Category: Stream of Thought

“Why put off today what you’ll put off tomorrow?”

🤣

Arriving at our lodging, some working men are drunk or high motormouthing at each other in constant slurred frequency, talking over each other with “f-ing this” and “f-ing that” loud enougg to penetrate my car.

Their inane noise pierces pain-hazed thinly-remaining barriers and drive me into over agitation because they don’t stop for breath while I am trying to chill in my car.

I do not like being around this kind of influence. Summer is over, and these are the digging-in regulars. The complications in finding this year’s housing requires us to keep enduring.

Some things seem like they should be easy to know. But since I have been trained to serve humanity, it is hard for me to realize – and then advocate – for what I need.

It is now officially official. So official that I am officially stating that I shall no longer – maybe EVER – let anyone do passive stretching to my neck.No one works out the kinks, first, so all they are doing is pulling on and retriggering trauma – thus setting alight my demon migraines!

I get so wound up at times from the performance pressure I naturally feel getting tangled with my desire to be able to please him that I get overwhelemed at the details of every day moments that could be involved. Why does everything have to seem to conceptually overcomplicated?!

Have you ever been so excited about an upcoming event that your body locks up just thinking about getting through everything to make it to it?

I have been stumbling over myself all morning!

The man I love is with someone else.

Of course, I think that I am the better match for him – but such things are complicated.

I think it is quite common that people in love who cannot be with their One feel similarly.

I go from panic to just giving up and grinning at myself, the situation – and then capitalizing upon my own experiences in maturity.

Her personality is the type to eventually wreck him. It has no real, solid substance of its own and is dependent – thus prone to be manipulative.

I am sure I have my own flaws and weaknesses, but I am solid as a rock where everything counts.

I guess comparisons in situations as this are difficult to avoid.

However, to divert myself from being terribly upset about this, I just looked at myself in the mirror, made a choice – and started laughing ruefully at the whole set up.

I am trying to be delicate – but I am just becoming this warrioress BEAST!

I found a new lift exercise on a dynamic weight machine last night, and my body just rose to the challenge!

What is becoming of me?

Who the FECK am I???

I have my propensities.

“I wanna smoke that sh**!”

What I hear as I enter the hall…

They could reach for each other any time, any place.

It did not matter who they were with, or what they were doing.

In a pause’s breath, they shared connection.

They called me a whore, raping me to destroy my sanctity.

They beat my body and hurt my head, attempting to wipe out my memory.

They stripped me from every comfort: no community will accept me, and I can only trust briefly.

But over time, the rage of truth has spilled out – and it burns the soul’s purpose clear of others’ transgressions.

I may be a product of my society, bent like you to the will of megalomaniacs intent on reaping everything and leaving our Earth barren and empty – even to the point of eventually getting humans to consume ourselves in the name of “survival.”

How they must be laughing at our continued ignorance!

But, when it is all said and done, what matters is our spirit’s integrity.

Without it, this war cannot be won.

Maybe I won’t finish my Bachelors and go onto a Master’s in film making and a PhD evolving deep philosophies.

Maybe we won’t get a home and we will just keep paying more than “the average bear,” thus staying stuck in continuous poverty.

Maybe I won’t be united with the man of my dreams who bursts my soul into flame, giving every thing I’ve striven for its true reasoning.

I have done this all for Him, you see. I wanted to prove myself to Him – and to uncover my identity.

I am doing this for Us. For our children. For our Legacy of the Earth’s healing.

This is God’s purpose, you know…we must grow up as a species, stop denial’s breeding, and vanquish our demons to rule wisely.

Believe it or not, I am crying. Truth is not easy, and our hearts must be set free to Sing.

I am not here due to alcohol, drugs, or anything I need to change about myself…

I just keep going and overcoming, despite what others think or have done.

I took myself to a movie, will get my youngling to work, then go rotate my earrings to stop the top hole swelling.

The severe neck pain finally backed down after four generic naproxin, a small handfull of chewable papaya, and some Subway meatballs were chased by a nice hot cup of chamomile tea, placed between my thighs to where the heat almost burned and brought the “fever” down.

I am a Survivor…I guess there’s not much else to be known or found.

What I mean is, I need to stop thinking this has all somehow been my fault.

From the beginning, I never wanted a crown – I just wanted to love and be loved strong and sound.

I hungrily consume the whipped cream on top of my double blended “Pink Drink” (Starbucks TM) with heavy liquid whipping cream blended 1/2 to 1/2 with coconut milk in tge shake-like matrix.

Premise of strawberries provides vitamin C and the cream content helps toward soothing inflamed nerve synapses. A large water with extra ice packed into it accompanies on standby.

Migraines: BE GONE!

Names, dates, places: they swirled in patterns across her mind, forming a greater sense of importance – rather than cementing establishments.

Increasion: the action of increasing,

🤣

Being among the rich, but not rich.

Being among the poor – keep struggling for more.

I never fit in with a home; am set more apart without one.

Identity cannot afford to attach to anything…

Especially to the feeling of disassociation.

I did not relax when sick. I kept fighting it internally.

But, I did go to a couple of shows when I began recovery, and I walked alot downtown just window shopping.

I think that I got to catch up with myself.

They say that if you find yourself in similar situations over time that ultimately it comes down to the outcomes being “your fault.”

But, having been mindful along my journeying, I notice these patterns are actually from trends of other peoples’ lack of personal accountability.

Therefore, the messaging is something that I no longer need to head because, like so many other outdated belief systems, it no lonver pertains to my reality.

I suppose that I am supposed to be content with fighting the resistance to my success, no matter how much the resistance pushes me back.

Show up to the gym, on this day, in different pain at most to reach for maintain.

Show up to work where there is work – and work to get work when there is no work.

When the mind fails, lead with the heart.

And when the heart can no longer feel, keep walking onward.

We had a close chance this last week: we thought we had found our new place.

It is on a piece of land (another biome) but this time, nestled within a neighborhood instead of on the edge.

As soon as we set foot on the property, nature in the backyard welcomed us. There was space for everything we care for, and it had a creative “hobbit hole” feel to it.

The low ceilings and extremely sloping floors from over 100 years standing would need getting used to, and I was a little irritated by the prospect at first.

But, it had two refrigerators, a gas stove, and a gas-heating fireplace. Most importantly, the landlord was chill and would allow our pets.

But, it sounds like he will be giving it to a family friend in need, instead of to us.

It’s frustrating to feel what it is like to have a bird in one’s hand – only to have its magic fly away again.

“If you think that I am just going to keep holding out, waiting for you to come home – you are mad and delirious!”

Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe she had made a terrible mistake by going through the portal early.

Things just seem disjointed, and she was often experiencing major disruption to her life’s flow.

Alot of Start-Stop-Go’s made the meaning of her life’s purpose confusing.

And he was out there, ignoring their bond, still pursuing other women.

She began to doubt the validity of their original union, for certainly, she was not being shown its redemption.

We went back to the shop and found a string of rounded fluorite orbs of varied deep-hued, colored depths that I can use as prayer beads and/or just carry around to give me visual and tactile happiness.

Sometimes my life just has too much “grit” and “mossy bits” in it.

Normally, I am brave.

Normally, I will muster.

But, I expected a normal MRI.

Not an invasive procedure where they stick first the numbing needle – and then the needle with the dye into the front hip joints.

Joints.

Plural.

They would have done both.

Not having been warned, the moment they told me, I knew I had reached my limit.

“No.”

“I cannot let you go there where I am vulnerable.”

Hind brain’s declaration of truth – and rather binding.

I got so far as to the several swabs of preparation on the upper right thigh attachment and the first inserted, transgressing needle.

My body said, “WE CAN’T DO THIS.”

Nope.

Nope-Nope-Nope-Nope Nopety-Nope-Nope-Nope!

“Thank you for your time.”

“Sorry to have wasted it.”

“I have to leave, now.”

Exit, stage left – I mean right – up and out of the catacombs.

How many times must I tow the line which wishes only to be buried – yet, demonic torments keep reanimating?

It becomes apparent how dependent we are upon the continuity of certain patterns and life rhythms once any base to which we have clung to for solid footing has been taken from us – and its replacement continually eluding being found.

Replays of past stressors infiltrate one’s actions, in the present.

No,..I will not look back on these times with fondness, and a sparkle of mirth in my eyes.

And then, having checked for curbs around my parking spot – and seeing none – I proceed forward to find that where I had parked had the only one, as the car bumps up and lands onto the bottom engine plate.

Yeah.. whose looking out for me as I look out for others? I swear, the thematics I experience get ridiculous…but, I don’t see any oil leaking, yet.

I have been feeling melancholy.

I was so excited and – I cannot think of the word! – when the flourite beads on a string shined their light bright at me from a distance, beckoning me to come get them.

The child inside of me felt so blessed and loved to be singled out and to have crystals “talking” to me again, without my trying or seeking.

When I later learned that the little girl turned seven on this same day, I remembered when I had turned seven, and how it was a new chance for me. My mom was getting married, I was to have a new daddy, and he was into plays and everything.

My life didn’t turn out how it was presented for my buy-in, and the overwhelming disappointment and consequences I suffered became just more layers of negative messaging.

People did not love me and prize me for my efforts – nor for simply being just me.

I reflected on this as the shy one went onto the stage, trusting her mama’s coaxing, and I thought to myself, “Was I really so young and as vulnerable, then?”

I knew it was the right thing to give her the necklace brimming with overstuffed hearts, filled with shades of purple to green in clear colors – and likely bursting with rainbows in the sun.

I had so recently bought them that I had not yet gotten the chance to gaze into the stones and explore their delightful reveries.

Childhood is meant to be more than just a promise. It should be filled with wonder and Guarantees that everything good is coming.

Therefore, I presented them to her as a caring “elder,” telling her how brave she was and giving it to her so that the fluorites’ loving, playful, energetic generosity would impart to her proof that she deserves the best life has to offer her.

But, personally, why do I now have this ache inside? I had had it at the shop, not realizing until the beads had signalled me.

I saw her later that evening wearing the necklace around her neck as its weight swung jauntily over her upper chest, protecting and fascilitating heart to voice transferring – and this was rightly gratifying and satisfying.

But what about my own heartaches? What about my own needs for receiving loving, proud-of-my-efforts acknowledgements and gaurantees of a happy life’s future tailored for me?

If I can give to others, how can I give to me?

As the singer brought her daughter up on stage to sing a custom-tailored Happy Birthday to her, the love that passed between a 7 year old and her mother was evident as the little girl would reach out for her mother, and her mother would brush the little girl’s bangs tenderly from over her eyes.

When they finished, the round-hearted flourite beads I’d had flash at me earlier in the crystal shop that day and then had made into a choker necklace brimmed with so much energy around my neck that I just had to gift to the little girl this present to ensure she would be guaranteed a wonderful future.

I dislike not knowing where to begin while throwing myself into multiple directions.

When I am sick, the process becomes a requisite shoving me nose-to-nose with all of the negative messaging being carried in my body that I have been trying to avoid.

I began experiencing a breakdown in my barriers when we moved into a larger house back in 2007 and our master bedroom did not have enclosed walls.

It was on the upper floor and the rest of the house had no carpeting, so the sound from everywhere traveled up to where we were resting.

I could never get a “reset,” and thus stress began compounding while I was experiencing the relationship’s downsliding.

Ultimately, there was nothing I could do to stop its destruction and save the union because the issue was never about me.

Since then, I have only regained a thin veneer barrier that is shakey at best in tolerance.

Heats as it elevates blood pressure’s temperature, helping to burn out viruses and false prophets’ messages.

To squeeze myself into the limited sized-boxes of other people’s dreams is just not going to be enough for me!

I am trying to no longer look at the numbers – or rather, no longer look them up. Chasing them around adds too much mental freneticism.

I have already investigated so many of the many times certain sets repear so that I pretty much know the overall messaging that I am looking for.

The numbers “tell me” that I am loved and that good energies have my back; that my soul mate/twin flame is on his way, ready to interact; and that I am about to gain rewards and abundance for all of my past and present hard work efforts.

You know, the usual desired “basics” that we want and need to have confirmed – but may or may not be about to happen.

Religious doctrines would give reasons for all suffering, but I find these reasons so outdated and unsatisfying.

I mean – really? Nothing has been upgraded? Just the same old rules over the same old paradigmical thinking is still seen as acceptable?

To me, if God has been silent for so long, it just seems that “He” has given us enough tools to fashion our own better tools for expanding to a better series of equational interactions.

Humans are not supposed to become passive and stagnate – and we are certainly not supposed to allow ourselves to regress. We are supposed to grow and evolve our capabilities.

She had been there, among them, but her mother was a renegade refuting class structure and status – and she got pulled along, behind her.

He hailed me as his energy burst into the sunlight, eager to help me get set up and established and inquiring with animation on how it was going.

I can’t explain how his energy affects me, except to say that it is the right frequency that answers the question to Everything – as if I have been waiting for him.

She was there with him in the dark, broad antechamber.

She could be, because her background met all of the “right” qualifications.

I believe this is what they call “priveledge.”

A free pass, not based upon integrity.

A mourning dove cooed outside in the front yard.

My ego, pride, and drive cannot stand that I am this position – again.

Some say introversion is due to being shy, timid, or unsure.

But, I remember a time when I was very young that I ran around bold under the hot sun, bare feet pounding over scorching pebbled concrete, without my shirt on.

I felt at one with the planet, stars, and moon. I was a wildling born to rule – and it was the sun’s job to bake me and heat my bones, making me stronger.

Nature was there to guide and teach me. The orchards were full of the plumpest, sweetest, juice-flowing fruits to nourish me.

Then, darkness descended, ruled by a shadow man who infiltrated and puppeted those grown too weak in their psychology by broken diligence.

I became silent because I was told that if I spoke, someone would hurt me. Trying to break the habit released terror into the bloodstream.

Don’t move. Don’t breath. “Don’t speak a word to me.” Freezing up was a way of survival from when Man hunted me.

The way of the wolf – alone in solitude’s contemplation – has provided sanctuary. I learned how to fashion my own life and rules outside of captivity.

And now, that bright child inside and the strong woman that I have become want to emerge fully into this reality.

I reached out this morning to a success coach at my university because I have this deadline approaching to complete a course I put on hold from last Fall (due in December) – and there is no way that I can meet it with my current life circumstances’ mental-emotional programming set in motion, dancing to the tune of my hind brain’s freaked out gibberring.

There is this messaging imbedded somewhere that when life circumstances are hard – or when I have children, or when I am in a relationship – that I am “not allowed” to be who I truly am and want to be in my natural expression, and I am “not allowed” to pursue activities I want in order to improve my skill sets and/or just enjoy myself and have fun “playing.”

This is where being by nature a devoted, loving, and obedient human being has worked directly against me: wanting to honor others (as well as trying to avoid past erraticly harsh judgements and punishments pummelled onto me) put me in a state of constant self-contorting and denial of my own needs to where now, deep in my psychology, it has come to the dictate that caring for my self expression is “harmful and irresponsible” if I truly care for others.

It’s part of a pre-programmed self-condemnation system from past parental and authority-type figures having done their best to suppress and top-down me.

I am “allowed” to choose others over myself – but not myself over others. And if I choose myself in any way, I am a horrible, selfish, and definitely unworthy-of-appreciation, love, or affection person that should be kicked to the streets.

Thus explains why I am sufferring so much in this situation of being without a home. “It all came true,” you see? I chose to be Good to others as well as care for myself, instead of what they tried to make me be – and here is my reward.

“I belong on the streets.”

From abuse, neglect, direct violence – or even others’ arbitrary decisions – it is hard for a soul to not become stamped by resultant impingement on their confidence when it has become the target or recipient of others’ such propagations.