Category: Stream of Thought

They say that demand increases when there is less of a supply.

But it really depends upon trends in current perceived values.

Because I can’t, I keep doing anyway.

If I calculate love expressed and lost, the odds either increase in favor of repeating – or they brim on the verge of tipping into success.

If “no one of worth would want the true me,”
If a suitable person does, are they worthy?

(Title play with words)

Being blocked from giving healing therapies is making me realize how much of my heart and mind’s soul that I have been giving to people.

Sometimes I chortle to myself over my creations.

(Title quote from Movie Jurassic Park)

(Title play with words)

Very carefully, friendships are cultivated.

I need to avoid people who could turn on me.

One thing about wild magic is the difficulty of knowing which elements of talent to awaken and set free into expressing.

I hate to admit it, but my need for withdrawal from general society is getting more extreme.

Which is opposite from the actuality of daily activitues.

adjective

1. engaged in, involving, or reflecting deep or serious thought.”a pensive mood”

Oxford

Is not meant to be “used.”

It is not a “means to an end.”

Love.

Survival.

I need to be doing things that are innovative and cutting-edge – otherwise, there is no grist in them for me.

If I gave everything and more in my youth’s years to a marriage and was discarded, what faith is there for me to have that I would receive better treatment from a man in my maturity?

Implies “educated” understanding – and the ability to “educate” / “teach” this understanding.

I do not like when my kind and generous nature is taken advantage of by others.

I understood when I was caught up in the process, although I did not know how to change behaviors then.

I do not need to also experience similar scenarios from other perspectives.

I think the attraction for thirties-aged men to me is that I seem caring and approachable.

RAARGH!

(Jumping out with a wild look of claws showing and teeth grinning)

I thought that I felt bad after the accident, but as therapy “makes progress,” new levels of pain, inflammation, and nerve weakness reveal.

I try to turn adversity into opportunities.

Somewhere in all of this, there must be room for me.

I don’t want to talk about it, anymore.

No more intakes, explanations, triangulations.

I’m just a creative looking for her sense of purpose.

I had been proud that I was recovering my poise and smooth gait.

Summer’s sun was baking color back into my skin, honing me like the Grecian goddess I have been named after.

Fall comes now, and I am injured again, hobbling around like a fifties-year-old stereotype –

Cringing as winter will again soon enough set in.

Set the goal/level and stick up for it.

When I eat raw fruit or vegetables, I will often place the seeds I find in a bowl(s) to dry for later.

I may never plant them, but gathering them makes me feel a sense of connected contentment.

Not the usual recipe for “job security.”

Being a parent is a lifetime investment.

Injury to hip and leg overshadows loosened reinforcement soft tissue zones.

Limited benefits all around pressure miracles of speedy recovering.

This last month has been just about overcoming the chop.

Barely now can I think about how I am doing and “where” I “should be” going.

If not so engaged in just surviving, what would I explore and discover?

The philosophical tomes of ancestors?

Physics String Theory as it pertains to harmony?

I would write the script geared toward humanity, knowing it gives guidance to other intelligences.

How do I design my recovery so that my life is fulfilling, eclectically?

How I identify and quantify stability is not the same as standard assessments.

I just need patterns of consistency interwoven throughout my life’s path(s) so I feel that I am making progress.

I drove my blue dragon again today and got a very clear sense that I can only keep it temporarily.

It is supposed to move onward, without me.

I feel as if my life is a mess – although in some ways, it is quite orderly.

I’ve been disrupted so many times, I just get used to stepping up onto another platform.

Without handrails, as it is lifting away from stability.

Get me off of these things!

I am beginning to have lunch with new people I meet who seem to share some form of kinship.

At some point, ya gotta just nestle in again for the long haul.

I am beginning to suspect that my leg and/or hip may have been fractured in the accident.

Raising younglings is not easy.

I know my own path – and will find it.

(Title play with words)

The promises given at start of relationship were not fulfilled, yet conscription wove insideous objectifications.

(Title play with words)

Ignorance is not bliss.

But knowing the truth is not always better.

“Wait for iiiiiit…”

What use are any of my efforts?

It isn’t Empty Nest Syndrome, although to others, it might seem like it.

Rather, I’m fighting to overcome many incidents reinforcing self suppression in exchange for survival.

I have been listening for my soul’s inspiration to answer my call.

I can barely hear it at all.

I have hit a wall that I am trying to scale or go around.

Much change has already happened and it is disorienting.

My track has been disrupted.

I guess I am at a new beginning.

But, it feels like I am just again trying to pick up scattered pieces.

I am trying to “integrate,” but I do not trust the process.

What is causing me to feel unloved and uncherished – when clearly, I am being provided for?

I was funneled toward and slipped into the roles too easily.

Not the same kind of dream as tout-publicized, but one that I still find is worthy.

A self-propagating internal sludge difficult to counteract once takes hold – for it builds its case upon projected “if-only’s” that may or may not have any basis in “reality.”