Category: Stream of Thought

External output keeps being more than ease of returns.

Being a single parent in survival mode has blocked doors inside that would open to me.

I had invested in a life as middle class, but was relegated to continuous, grinding poverty.

At least I make my own decisions in how to proceed, but repressed creativity haunts me.

I am not going to apply for a career job because I cannot depend upon a career job.

Out of gas, out of ink, out of patience.

“We are going to send this document to you by mail that takes several days to arrive, yet if you do not respond within 5 days of the date we printed this notice, your benefits will be denied.”

A way to move from one paradigm into another is to cultivate the characteristics within yourself that you wish to bring into being.

Mine are not the correct proportions until I accidentally overflow the machine.

I have not figured out if I need a bigger blender – or if this is just my nature.

Today’s Special: mango nectar, 1 1/2 cups whole milk yogurt, 1 cup walnuts, 2-3 Tablespoons molasses, 3 bananas, and 1 cup of blueberries.

So rich and yummy!

Seems like “everyone” is on it, but engages in “blasphemy.”

I cannot recommend it, and have exited.

I have now begun a round of antibiotics where two a day for two weeks is the regime.

I must be careful what I eat and when around taking them, and they inflame my system.

I am hoping they will target a possible years’ long hidden internal infection, which I only recently realized could be the reason I have felt so poorly – despite determined positivity.

Tomorrow, I meet with a trainer whom I hope will mentor me and also receive a physical therapy session to begin rehabilitating my left shoulder.

I am trying to make space for my own recovery and rebuild cherished longevity, now that we are where there are resources.

The work I have been doing with clients ends up unwinding spiral tension patterns.

This evening while praying, I felt it begin to happen to me.

I did not realize comprehension could affect the healer.

Tides are shifting.

I must be ready.

I have decided that I am not going to apply to local career jobs except for my health industry – and only to those that remain fluid and flexible.

Where there are gaps in income, perhaps I will apply for temporary positions.

The point being, I need to be available for my dream opportunities – and survive while aspiring

I asked that the blade tip broken off in my heart be removed – that it work its way up and out of my system.

Then, when others rage and project at me, the metal will no longer be there to heat and ignite me.

Then, I will no longer quiver in pain as it tears at me, and I will no longer be afraid to lead.

Then, the fresh memory of once beloveds hurting and/or leaving me can fade – as I expand into my self’s infinity.

I went again this evening.

I cannot remember if I have been since we’ve moved here – that’s how disjointed everything has been.

I went and I prayed to Allah.

That’s right.

Because Allah is the same God as in Christianity and Judaism.

It is just that in Islam, I am already different.

I don’t have to pretend that I “belong.”

I’m a hybrid and will sing my inclusive song.

There is none – not when forces conspire to prevent it.

Therefore, choose wisely when to do what is important.

It is amazing that people feel the need to project negatively onto each other, when between us we find the answers.

I need a coach to support my goals so that I may overcome my own weaknesses.

I checked out some gyms today and have realized a new wave of reactivism may be coming. It is not a good time to be boxed in with numbers of other people.

I need to get back to working on my abs.

(Title of dual meanings)

There are those wanting to cause strife, despite better solutions.

Belonging to a group is an innate human need, but we should not sacrifice sanctity to gain it.

When danger signals are jangled, I listen deep and analyze carefully.

Some have mitigating and/or disastrous consequences.

When politics and personal motives get mixed into power plays.

I guess I have been searching for it all of my life.

What makes humans bend and break to where they are mere fragments, acting out on remnant and corrupted programming – and how do we help mend these rifts?

But, I no longer want to be so close to the action of it. I need conscious and willing functioning that avoids reinfection.

Understanding enough about the self and others to be able to make fine-line decisions – where if slipped would have consequences, but in executing well, has great benefits.

A well-rounded, fully developing human being.

Women are denied freedom, unless they ascribe to presets in society – whereas men are still allowed to get away with the worst obscenities.

My main calling card.

Coupled with will power, erupts into action.

First, pulling inward – then catalyst added.

I managed six minutes of chasing the ball around, looking like a dork, because my focus was not on looking graceful, but on getting my left arm to extend from its shoulder and respond as it used to.

(Title implies self judgement, as well as venue.)

I do not need trauma bonding.

I need an exit from Hell.

Reading the surface veneer of people is something I have become able to do.

“Smiling back” on a dating app invites people to become attached to you.

However, we are taught that it is impolite and disheartening to another if you do not want to.

I speak out loud to myself to connect thought to vocal.

I am powerful without you, and I do not need your glory –
But, if we joined forces, it would make a wonderful story!

(Title has multiple meanings)

Oi vey!

Welcome to men too “old” for me and incompatible with my personality!

They are weird and wonderful.

I find her reckless abandon liberating, intoxicating, and alluring – and it calls to something within that has become restless.

Thinking one can handle temptation, when they have reached critical mass.

Being confined by others’ projections.

When one has been in long term pain, at some point they yearn to embrace the darkness to find a way through to the light of day.

The belief that the self can never have where they long to be.

As I passed by, I misread the name of a dispensary called “The Green Room” as “The Groan Room.”

When words do not make sense by current spelling, I default to logic: judgment = judgement.

I do not know everything about you because I do not want assumptions to cloud my judgement.

I could destroy, but choose not to.

It wasn’t just how he left me – but that everything I’d worked for was taken, and how we now looked to society.

I began writing so that the madness would let go of me.