Category: Stream of Thought

A cell’s job is to retain internal “homeostasis.”

It is designed to resist exiting and entrance.

It is not always guaranteed that its’ holding something within is either good for itself, or the contents.

(Title of multiple meanings)

A peer lost his family’s puppy to a sock and a loved one lost theirs to gut torsion.

Last week, our wolf tore her toenail, and today our hound dismantled her plastic cushion mat.

I am unsure if pieces are in her belly.

I have given – more than I should have been required to.

Because what I gave was not returned even halfway (and in fact, my “reward” ensured that I was devastated), I have no personal experience of a healthy partnership being a possibility for me.

I see and hear about it for others – but in this, my life has not been easy.

Doppelganger versions of my ex-fiance have been appearing in too close vicinities to me.

I find it hilarious – yet, not funny at all.

What is the intention here?

I am not interested.

I’m appalled!

Behind our home is an open meadow with trees that have seen many seasons.

For once, it would be wonderful if humans did not have to build over it.

In these brief moments, my time with you is real.

“What do you want from me?” she asked quietly.

“Everything,” he replied.

They get more clear when the fears settle and anxiety yields to love’s candor.

It comes to a point where my will must just push against internal and external resistance – rather than expecting to understand the reasons for it.

I did not realize how stand-offish Californians were until I moved away from there.

Still, it would be nice to again visit and feel a part of my life’s origin culture.

Pretenses that move into my sphere irk me when disingenuous – making me want nothing to do with them.

Some things are outdated and no longer apply in “old school. Yet, some values are still relevant and important to retain.

There were none in the other.

When putting on my black sneakers, I emptied one and found the end of a green bean from last night’s vegie baking.

I am beginning to hear it within my own sphere: individuals considering marriage where the married couple lives separately from each other.

A partnership relegated to distance and control- portioned intimacy. How is this different from just being friends?

Rather than purchasing the intestinal cleanse capsules containing cascara sagrada which was sure to harm her more sensitive system, she instead invested in triphala tincture, FOS, and Ojibwa tea.

Avoiding running around unnecessarily.

Dragged through, and then traveling through life, I have met Greats to littles – yet have remained my own anonymity.

No showing up early like a young spring chicken to feed for me!

Nope!

More of a wisened-hen look, “Are you kidding me?” as I slowly saunter.

Come to think of it, maybe I have always retained a bit of cinicism.

Where’s my “me in early teens standing behind a younger Jerry Brown” picture?

(I liked him, but have never trusted politics.)

Pending…

Adapting to light armor, rather than heavy metal slagging.

Tight legs; one hurt shoulder; one good shoulder; and an OMT appointment.

I can no longer access my stats on WordPress unless I download a certain program – which I refuse to do because I dislike being shuttled forward through doorways not of my own choosing.

There are fresh-baked and crisped-chewy peanut butter-infused oatmeal with walnuts and raisins cookies waiting for me in the kitchen.

“F*** The Past!”

(Quote from movie, Man Up)

Whatever it takes, I must remove the dragging, suppressing weight of the past from me.

I am haunted.

Stalked.

Like zombie-powered ghosts, these issues keep respawning in their attempts to consume me.

Enough already!

I no longer need care about my bachelors, further English training, nor money lawfully due to me!

I hack at thee, o tendrils of my maddening – ever reaching for me!

Be gone!

Be GONE!

I RENOUNCE Thee!

After so many efforts, correspondence with, and even court ruling in my favor, years later the unemployment final background processors went against all of the proper documentation and wrongly decreed I had not been twice terminated (due to Covid politics) – thereby refusing to disburse underpayment refunds and keeping my “income” to refuel their corrupted system. I wonder if they will also charge me for this as claim against my taxes., showing it as “income earned” with that lovely adage, “insult to injury?”

At this point, I do not know what I need to do or change to help my life work better.

But, maybe that’s what needs to end.

Maybe I need to stop picking at myself because I am not “the problem.”

I have always been a part of the solution.

There are too many variables and I am too burnt out to keep striving.

I gained the one English training, but have decided as of a few minutes ago that I am done trying to find space in my life to finish the next three modules.

This horse is just finished with plowing.

I was fretting about income, but then got a call to do two sessions today.

After completion and directly upon exiting out of my own acupuncture treatment which focused on trying to calm down my adrenal system, I got the emergency text.

The wolf had snagged and ripped a hind toenail in the porch – inital estimate of which was the amount I had just gained.

Twelve years before us; twelve years behind.

Growing exponentially to catch up in time.

The only way to overcome is to beat back the accusations by declaring what I would have/could have done had I been given the real data – instead of it being masked and hidden from me.

Was it by the jeweler’s will or energy dug up from the wrong hill which cursed the lustrous gem and targeted the innocent who donned it?

(Title of multiple meanings)

She reached for the shining, white-rainbowed spectrolite, knowing it was not meant for her but wondering what she would see.

She was met by her youth being drained before her reflectioned eyes by a spirit that was angry and filled with envy.

I suspect that mirrors are not the best mirrors for me.

It happened right when I first returned home from Egypt in 2017.

We both saw my image become distorted suddenly.

Whatever was in that pendant I tried on was not friendly.

Or maybe whatever it was lept from it, and now flits between mirrors – harrassing.

What do I do with the space of silence?

How ought I strive to be?

(Hee hee!)

I write and post in order to define and evaluate my inner workings.

It is a way for me to reconnect with myself, process, and grieve.

Part of my healing process is to declare lost faith while seeking strength again to believe.

This is my forum to announce intentions and promote joy for others to receive.

I will state my truths so that I can be properly perceived.

A New Revolution casting aside pretenses so who we are truly as individuals can be tended to and nourished positively. Maybe then, we can end atrocities and killing – for they are unnecessary.

How do I gain confidence in self when what I will commit to for me personally is constantly renegotiable – being erased from the screen in response to daily life tending?

What can I rely on? Who do I want to be? What talents ought I to be further developing.

It seems to just comes down to I evolve to meet emergencies: what is left of me is confused and trembling because there are no reboot defaults to rely upon in my core, anymore.

Much of whar I see gets filtered through a preset of “how will this best serve my family?”

Not a bad thing – in fact, highly necessary.

But, the process makes me continually break apart and grind down any potential for frivolity.

If any interest that I have cannot be picked up in a moment, continued briefly, and then put down again until the next time I get to it and still be able to advance in progressing, then how can it hold relevancy and benefit me?

This nomadic type of lifestyle has infiltrated my programming of what a “normal life” would be.

Now, quite frankly, I get restless if I am for too long slowing down for rebooting energy!

My heart feels like it is expanding with Lifeforce that wants to expand and go exploring.

How do I tend to home needs and yet be allowed to go wandering?

Maybe that’s it: I need more positive experiences to better choose my new directions.

Angel number 1200 is a message from your angels to stop and take a look at the bigger picture. There’s no need to panic, stress out, or worry – things will be ok… Your mind needs time to rest and relax so you can gather new creative thoughts.

ministryofnumerology.com/angel-number-1200-biblical-meaning-symbolism-love-significance/#:~:text=Angel%20Number%201200%20%E2%80%93%20The%20Hidden,can%20gather%20new%20creative%20thoughts.

(This is exactly what I needed to hear today!)

Speaking of my insecurities and where I feel the weakest, the average onlooker would not know this about me – for I have become competant in external navigating.

I had a saxophone that I named my golden goose, but I sold it because I was afraid to play it for lack of privacy.

I used to tinker at the school’s lesson piano, but then realized that my peers whom I wanted to impress might be disuaded.

Singing is something I do passionately when the moment takes me – but then, in public, my throat closes to clenching.

I am too deep of an accomodator – an empath afraid to go further down on her luck.

There is a thin veneer that I rely upon, having had my barriers infiltrated and burned through.

But, if I had a man that believed in me, I wonder if there would even be limits to what I could do!

For I belirve it comes down to insecurity from not having solid ground to stand on.

When it is just me advocating for my dreams, it is safer to chameleonize and keep moving on.

It’s Spring Break!

No wonder energies have scattered!

Gold and blue flames casting heat in their glow, I and the hound and the wolf shared a small bowlfull of canned, reduced-salt peas for the first time this evening.

One by one, pea by pea, they each gently sucked the green tartness from my pinched fingertips and either promptly, delicately chewed and swallowed – or rooted about on the floor after dropping them.

It is moments like these that must be made room for and then partaken of in order to create new patterns of trust between each other, and within our new surroundings.

It all feels like the same to me – just ten years+ later, more worn as reclaiming scattered pieces.

I have no real reason to think that love will happen “again” for me. Afterall, I never really had it from a partner.

Oh sure, they made some noises and professed some things – which soon after seemed easily forgotten.

No…I am the one who rallied and strove, while they just chose to not leave sooner.

It isn’t the same.

How to care for another human has always seemed more accessible than figuring out what I need. How does one give their self nourishment beyond what I have been doing?