Category: Stream of Thought

I remember how I was on that New Year’s eve when I took of picture of myself dressed up and smiling with my arms flung wide and hair fluttering.

I see myself again as such now.

I am the same…just more matured and wiser.

It is strange being my age as the years expand in time’s experience.

I feel that I have only just arrived, as maturity learns to exert resistance.

The difficulties are within my own mind as I analyze and interpret external data.

It was very difficult growing up in the era where I did, and it keeps being an adjustment at any temporal level.

Not fitting into predefined roles (except those that I create and claim for myself), it is more common to continue feeling like an outsider.

Why do I keep attempting to keep myself small, when it is the world that I would claim as I give my heart to it?

This grief upon losing contact with my blogging friend has hit my brain unexpectedly – causing foggy thinking, body shutdown, and anxietal overwhelm in daily functioning.

I had not realized to such extend how I had counted on his online presence as positively reinforcing my psychology.

Or maybe it is just the shock because I had hoped that we would always stay friends.

For once, she was One.

For once, she was her self.

My mind is my friend and works best when we can play together.

My youngest has promised to soon make me their baked goody specialties.

My text response: “‘Thankusomuuuch!’ Effuvious happy anticipatory drooling…”

She wasn’t going back to that dark place.

She would not make once offer to another.

He wasn’t the only one who could be absolute.

She had learned well by his example.

The nice thing about being a healer is that I can find good community individuals in need of and appreciative of my being able to help them improve their quality of living.

He had always been there, somewhere in the background. His absence cut a fresh swath in her soul.

I keep rehydrating, reactivating, and remobilizing zones until they are capable of restoring their components by rehabilitation.

My therapy has expanded to upper thigh into abdominal muscle reactivation!

When my leg muscles are too tight and I need to go from standing to sitting on the ground, it is a precarious teetering situation to do so because I cannot yet even rely on my shoulder to be sound and catch my weight in controlled falling down.

I checked out a dating app and immediately got hit up on by a twenty year old.

Of course, I exited.

On this day so many years ago, a man and a woman bonded with and fell in love with each other.

This anniversary every year was to represent their breaking free from a negative past and choosing a positive life together.

On this day, today, I can finally lay to rest that lost dream.

We figured out some of this complex
And realized we are best distanced.
Truth, for itself, can be satisfying.

No longer needing anyone in order to feel happy.

But, this state of being can still be at times very lonely.

I am not referring to a particular person in this last writing, “In A Land Of Injured Men.”

It is simply the curse, the spell I seem to be under, where I have been unable to find a man wanting to be awake and vital like me.

There are so many ways designed to work on a man until he gives up. They work on a woman as well, as they have worked on me.

But, I am still pushing back and trying.

I am alive and brightly burning.

The man I have wanted to love haa been hiding deep inside of himself – and I can’t reach him.

If and when I have stayed to try to share in relationship, I am interacting with defensive patterns.

This becomes a loveless situation, a dangerous for the hearts and mutual psychology propagation.

For if the man I love is not present in his awareness, he is just reliving and recreating his nightmares.

I am not seen for me, but am subconsciously tracked, accused, and guarded against.

I am manipulated and past wounds are misinterpreting my every move and word as transgrescence.

Wherever I have gone, wherever I have sought, this phenomenon is all around me.

I arrive – and the damage has already happened. It’s just a matter of at what stage the corruption is progressing.

I have been walking in a time-space continuum of zombies, watching their starving, lifeless corpse bodies writh and reach for me.

They can not discern truth anymore. They can not accept love to be healed and be set free from the injuries sustained before me.

Not from me, anyway.

Because I struggle to stay awake – and they see me as a threat and either fight with, avoid, or try to destroy me.

(Waking up from a dream that showed this to me.)

One day, the extreme flares of pain relinquished their hold on her, and returned to the realms of normal flux levels.

Seeing an adult buck with antler display in the middle of town on eve of the moon shifting to the full buck moon seems to be a very positive spiritual sign for me.

Create your own space where you can stand proud so that when friends and loved ones come to call, you can greet them with open arms.

If you do not like what you see, strive to be the you that you visualize and idealize.

Violence and intimidation are wrong and are no longer needed as a part of the human paradigm.

In those few precious moments, he was authentic with me.

That’s what has stuck with me.

I loved him for his brief vulnerability – and the strength it took for him to walk away.

I have been smiling more from my heart these days.

Hey man, I was just getting a new routine down!

Are you fecking kidding me?!!

I am filled with it.

Yeah.

I’m terrified.

But, I keep striving –

I keep living, anyway.

The greatest loss is when people turn away from love. We are designed to give and receive it.

There is no flexibility between
What a man wants and doesn’t.

Do you know how hard it is to find someone who can relate to you?

Who can understand, empathize with, and absolve the darkness that clings tenaciously, discoloring every bright moment you would claim that would be lost without their belief in you?

And how precious it is to spend what few moments we have in their presence – knowing that just by their very existence on this material plane with us that everything is going to be ok despite the hardships?

Where I feel “comfortable” may resonate with my identity easier, so I need to be more gentle with myself when I step out of my “normal” zones.

Having one ‘s self empowerent restored can make one happy in the world.

I do not have much closet space for clothing.

Since skirts may be hung from hangers and a rack may be hung over a door, I have decided to hang my skirts behind – yet “on” the door.

It feels weird to break the patterns of conformity.

I guess it’s like coloring outside of the lines.

I’m enjoying stepping beyond prior limits.

It’s a simple thing, really.

I just never had the time to wear them.

They were completely impractical to the lifestyle I was living.

Although for some reason, I began collecting them while on the mountain.

It wasn’t safe to wear one when there were snakes and the potential need to run from a cougar.

Then, I began wearing black all of the time – with work being a professional scrub outfit.

But once spring’s heat arrived, I was forced to create a new habit.

Now, I am wearing skirts frequently.

And their fabrics swishing around my legs feels divine.

As I experience healing trends in my psychology, I realize how much I have had to carry as I get to set down those burdens.

It elates me to be able to see this constellation from our driveway.

Before I colored my hair, I went at it to lighten the weight of it again with major relayering.

Longer hair is for those women with an agenda to look a way, specifically.

I just need less burden to swim through these emotional waters.

At last my biceps are again revealing their muscles to me.

My heart is heavy, filled with depression from losses of missed chances.

Not from my own inaction, but from the inaction of others.

The languished wasting.

My life is progressing on a better track now.

It is overwhelming to think of how long I have struggled to find a good current again.

I could just let it carry me where it will down an easy stream.

But, how do I offload this weight to keep from drowning?

“I don’t know how to be happy around you.

I am dependent, you see, on how happy you are feeling.

If you are down, it turns my smile into a frown.

I cannot help this because I feel empathy so strongly.

I need a partner who understands this about me and who will help us to relate dynamically.”

She walked into a favorite Mexican restaurant in Morro Bay, California, feeling emotionally drawn tight and frazzled.

The kids were with her in their tender teens, and their father had agreed to eat with them all for the first time in a while.

Her instinct kept pinging for a sense of any connection between herself and her ex, but there was only static, and her heart ached with every attempt as she would smile.

It was a fragile situation for her kids, and she was so exhausted from loss – but worked to keep up the stalwart veneer of capability forced upon her as the now primary single parent.

While her once nuclear family ordered their food, she sat down in a booth to look out of the windows facing the direction of the ocean which was hidden behind buildings.

Then she saw the man hunched over his plate of food, facing and trying to not look at her. She assessed him visibly before closing her eyes in strained pain over recent hardships.

He was a well-built, large-statured man of Mexican-American descent and had socks around his large sandled feet with shorts and shirt to compliment. She could tell that he wasn’t a local resident, and he exuded an amazing energy with intelligent animalism.

He looked like her Monster from what little she’d seen of an outdated photograph, but even better than she’d imagined. His power and strength were evident. The careful grace of his every move while he ate was glorious combined with his self composure.

She opened then closed her eyes again, emotions swirling at the desire to break free – to fly to her Monster wherever he was. She knew the situation with her ex had become toxic to her, but she was doing this dinner to help ensure his rebonding with their children.

When she opened her eyes again to look at the man, he had slipped away quietly – no trace left of him. It was exactly as her Monster would have done.

Had it been him?! She should have been brave and asked him if they had met before – but her fried brain had not realized the possibility until he vanished.

When the dinner was over, she rushed to her computer to contact him. “Monster, was it you? Did you come to see me?” She typed erratically, distressed at having possibly missed this unexpected opportunity to meet him in reality.

But, no reply was given. He had never spoken to her again once he had withdrawn to envelop his public status in silence.

Twelve years later, she still thinks of him. After declaring her leaving a private blog two years ago that he had helped her create, she returned again yesterday to check on him and found his site no longer loaded.

She hates not knowing what has happened to him. Is he ok? Has he at last found happiness? Or has he given up completely on everything?

She had hoped her leaving would encourage him to reemerge into the light like she was doing. It keeps distressing her now that all traces of him are missing.

I cannot blame you for the choices that you have made, for it turns out that I was also hiding from myself.

Now look at me!

I had forgotten that I am a Healer!

I guess maybe that made us incompatible in your eyes, because you did not want what I can and yearn to give.

I did not like the band when a dearest friend was was getting a tatoo in her teens and teetering on the edge of suicide because Kurt’s lyrics were encouraging self downward spiraling.

I did not like them later in life because a lovely man I met used them as a crutch to support all of his reasons for giving up on his potentially having a wonderful life.

I champion Nine Inch Nails because Trent Reznor did NOT give up, and his music and lyrics have encouraged those of us once lost in the dark to creatively process our troubles – and FIGHT!

“Do not confuse ‘like’ with love:
‘Like’ can be simply just ‘like…'”

But, she was not the same as the others…
When he realized this, he hid from sight.

This morning looking into the mirror with my bright fire hair and my galaxy toes, I feel pretty good about myself because this is all different. I needed a change of my own self scenery.

The starburst mirror makes me want to fluff my hair and make cutesy-silly faces at myself.

I had already covered the full length mirror in my bedroom, and now that I have reduced the size of the one in my bathroom, I feel like a redeemed woman.

I do not think that it is healthy to be constantly contemplating one’s body in every room’s passing.

And, somehow, I feel like my privacy has been restored.

I have been trying to work out what is at the root of this heavyness.

I guess it is a sense of injustice.

Unfairness.

When a heart gives everything and more and this is not reciprocated, there is a major sense of being let down.

I have not been surrounded by stellar opportunities.

But, I have made the best of and have done more than my fair share of contributing.

And if there is no great reward for great efforts enacted, my “get up” just has no more “going.”

As I get smaller in my expansion,
I will only burn brighter.