Category: Stream of Thought

The amount of energy required
To sustain constant movement is
Greater than I have or am willing
To commit to by chasing own tail 
For fulfilling others’ expectations.

I am fascinated by life: the miracle of it is a blessing.
I am drawn to help regenerate it, like mother instinct.

But, keeping it alive once it’s born is a riddled puzzle:
Factors seen and unseen affect health and outcome.

Babies and adults will get into things, by curiousity;
Wild animals cross paths and impart viral oddities.

Animal husbandry is more complicated than easy –
Requiring hard work and continuous responsibility.

When humans impose, life for animals can be easier:
They do not need to fend for nor protect themselves.

When you remove the coddling, they’re vulnerable:
Predators arrive, killing them brutally for their food.

We had a gorgeous Copper Maran rooster outside
That recently met such a fate – feathers scattered.

He had wandered out from under cover of trees and
Was given what I’d call an honorable warrior’s death.

It was better than an ax to the neck or cock fighting,
But, I still feel as if I let him down by gifting freedom.

Like a body under attack from its own immune system, the earth is plagued by human disregulation.

Yet, unlike the body’s cells, humans can self individuate, taking pieces of the earth systems into themselves by nurturing philosophies, if not physically.

We can separate from these injured systems, holding places of isolated healing applications in sanctity, until such a day when we may rejoin and form a more nourishing collective of communities.

We are part of life’s system – yet, able to step outside of it. Because of this, we can gain perspectives other sentience might not be graced with.

Therefore, we are charged by inherency of such freedoms to act responsibility, and to make beneficial decisions.

We must do this for ourselves, for each other, and for Life itself, if we wish to have a better future.

It becomes clear to me that it does not matter what I invest in, if I do not ensure first and foremost, I will have me.

Solid. Independent. Thriving.

Until that day, no one may conscript me – except my children: they are the only ones who deserve my fealty.

Meanwhile, as seems my role in advocacy, I will share what I can, in passing.

We are the few, at whom others gaze with disbelief, wishing they were strong enough to speak their minds, wondering how they, too, might gain internal relief.

There is always a penalty – whether by external imposition, or the price you pay for turning against inside what you know to be right.

It’s just a matter of what we each think we are willing to bear, and in the end, I am left alone with my conscience.

I want it to be clean – for the world, and for me.

Our state government is now making it law that all healthcare workers must be vaccinated.

The issue is not that providers are spreading the virus, but that we are who they can force by law to “control” us. They can revoke our licenses.

This ruling removes any personal right to choose that I own, against my own health management reasons, and sets bad precedence,

This allows governance to begin forcing other laws onto workers in order to keep jobs, and makes my body their property instead of private domain.

Where does it stop, then? Does the government choose my birth control method, when and if I have children, what foods I eat, supplements I can and cannot take?

In order to work, do I conscript all rights of my individuality to become absorbed into a mindless mechanism squeezing my essence for its profit – am I just a unit, a throw away widget for the state’s dictates?

Because this strips me of my rights to govern over my own body, I feel the need to abdicate my position and not participate as a contributor to society – at least, no longer directly.

I have been delayed in getting my vaccination due to illness from which I’m still recovering. I have been waiting until my body is strong again, to help counter valid concerns of side effects from the vaccinations.

I have been advised by other health professionals to wait until I know my body can better handle this. I have been struggling, already, to figure out how to return to the profession and be there consistently for clients.

This state’s forcing compliance puts it to me strait: get vaccinated, or lose your license.

Ok. Thank you for making the choice clear to me.

I now realize I must seek another profession, at least temporarily. Forget making good money while helping people. Forget trying to get out of debt. Forget generating taxes for my state. Forget lending my helping hands to others.

I will do what you want me to do. I will abdicate my power to “authority.”

Here you go. Take It All. I will no longer participate. See you on the back end, after I am healthy enough to handle the vaccine. IF I choose it for myself – It will be MY choice to get it!

Because I AM NOT THE PROBLEM. It’s all those uneducated people refusing to follow PRP consistently who are crowding into other people’s spaces, going into public when they are sick and coughing, and not taking it seriously when they know they’ve been exposed to COVID.

I know, firsthand – for I live in such a community. You see the instant difference in more mature society if you travel North or South to better education. Yet, these people are not held accountable for their own in-public flaunting of belligerent noncompliance.

I have already proven myself. I’ve already made the supreme sacrifice as a health care provider when my ex-boss allowed someone into the office who had just recovered from COVID, but whose family members were still in quarantine.

I was not allowed the option to say, “Hey, I can’t work on this person because he smells sick.” I knew I would lose my job because my boss believed COVID to be a hoax and a way for government to interfere with how he ran his business.

So, the client was in my small, sealed room for 45 minutes, and I could tell his body was still fighting off something. The longer the massage went on, the more I became aware I was put in a precarious position. But, I couldn’t bring it up with my boss. It had been his authoritative decision.

I began getting sick the next week, and knew it wasn’t a normal cold – that is was heavier. I was due to work on a pregnant woman supposed to deliver her baby the next week. I said to my boss by text, “Hey, do you think I should take a couple days off to get tested and make sure I’m negative? He went off on me and fired me. For asking and advocating.

Then, he lied about firing me and got my unemployment benefits suspended. He told unemployment I voluntarily quit so he would not have to pay the benefits. I stand before you an excellent healthcare provider who went above and beyond my call of service, sacrificing my livelihood to preserve life – against the tide of willful ignorance.

Look at the damage one man with power over me was able to inflict. What do I have to show for this? No income, for sure – I lost work I’d finally gained of $4,000/month after years of poverty, and then I lost the meager $150/week of unemployment benefts. I have no trust in the system, now. I do not believe I can rely on employment.

I gave my all to the healthcare system and ensured clients were protected by my own strict adherence to PRP.. I was there for people when others walked away during the pandemic, and I stepped back when I felt I couldn’t guarantee their safety.

I am NOT the threat. I am NOT the reason COVID keeps spreading.

And I won’t be threatened – insult to injury. I will not be forced to abdicate my rights to choose how I’ll manage the health of my body because other people are destroying The Law of Our Commons.

I am not your average Time Walker,
For I like materializing on Earth’s planes.

But then, I get confused as I disappear again –
Never sure if I’m a part of, or separate from, reality.

I could do things, but
Without knowing why or

Having a greater reason, it
Deflects my need for meaning.

I feel there is a great wind sweeping off of the ocean, pushing inland, and that if I’m not careful, I will get sucked into its tow, redeposited far from my homeland.

I feel places calling to me from across the world, leading me eastward – and I hunker down, clinging to grip of a pick ax thrust into the ground, letting hunger’s currents flow through me.

I must remain free to decide where to go, and nothing as yet presents clear and viable.

I have a huge sense of honor
With judgment against self
For wrongs uncommitted.

In the art of obfuscation.

I knew I would be beaten
Before I played the game:

When saw the patterns,
I had to start over again.

Charge me, I’ll revive you
Until dawn’s day is new.

Detain me and drain me,
You’ll get nothing new.

We are a collective of
Conscious, collaborative cells

Communicating sensorily –
Conveying imagery.

Creating environments
Where good can happen.

I have been developing my own style,
Hesitant to try other methods, when

Any yoke has always been heavy –
And being whipped, unpleasant.

Without core strength, there is
Nothing to move forward from.

I was just texted by one I met quite a while ago.
He says he’s single now, and likes older women.

He says I’m sexy and wants to pursue me.
I told him thank you, please move onward

Because I personally don’t think that any
Love between two people is a light thing.

If I’d choose a younger man, it’s due to merit –
Not because I desire to have a younger man!

And Then,

He sent me his d*** pic…
It isn’t size that impresses.

Seeking one’s soul mate is a task for the outrageously insane – or the creatively inspired.

– Title ref to book by L. Ron Hubbard

My creativity is a vehicle, and I am its passenger. A symbiotic relationship where we feed and nourish each other.

We both have destinations in mind, and learn from while aiding each other.

Am I tthe host, or dependent upon it? Neither can exist, without the other.

Writing allows the mind the space to think more clearly, analyzing skeins of data, and considering larger to small picture meaning.

It also gives a chance to play out scenarios, and design them more to one’s liking – at least, with regards to what we’d prefer to say, if emotions and other reactions wouldn’t crowd into our way.

Perhaps in our conversations, we’d be more wise or witty.

We stood together briefly, off to the side, both having by chance attended the same event.

“You seem to be doing well for yourself, now,” he commented in a friendly greeting. “Yes. I knew somehow I would overcome,” I replied, giving away nothing I was feeling. Why did his presence irk me so much? And why did I want more of it?

“I can see you’ve taken a step forward in pursuing some of your own ambitions,” I said, nodding to a lovely woman. “Well, yes. Your words to me kind of put it to me bluntly. Funny how things happen, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I agreed. “In fact, some things are almost too predictable.” Awkward pause from him as he cleared his throat. “Any luck finding your soul mate?” He ventured. How I did love his gallantry.

“None, yet. But, I suspect sucess has something to do with ‘it only happens when you’re not looking,” or I haven’t done enough work on myself, yet, – or maybe he isn’t even here in this time, on this planet.”

“Hm,” he thought about it. But, before he could offer his insight, someone signalled he was needed elsewhere. He gave his apologies to me and turned to go.

On sudden impulse, I reached out to detain him a moment longer. “Hey, listen…I don’t know how or why, but I would like us to stay connected. It seems important. Is there a way we could?”

“Uh, I’m not sure that’s appropriate. I will have to think on it. If I think of something, I’ll let you know.” And the world of posh enlivery regathered him into its fold.

Elation when in
Higher realms.

Spiritual congruencies
Transcend limitations.

it is strange to be a unit
Outside system program

Trending currents that
Lead to understanding.

Many would argue we should not have saved the mouse, for mice are known for damaging crops, property, carrying fleas with disease, and more.

But, humans have been known for even greater destruction…any one representative of a species is not “destined” to be like the others.

There are other factors involved we don’t always see that cause extremes, and acts of kindness can help us find better answers.

It is to do with climbing performance. The longer the tail, the better the climber. Arboreal dwelling mice hence tend to have longer tails than those that inhabit grasslands.

Theguardian.com

Early this morning, my youngest called, “Hey Mom – there’s a mouse in the sink…”

“A bwah…whah?” my sleep-beleguered mind wrestled to comprehend what they were telling me, trying not to snap connection from REM.

“A mouse in the sink.”

“So? Get it out of there.” Feeble attempt to confer authourity.

“I can’t, it’s stuck.”

(Bwahuwah?)

Anyone who knows anything about mice knows that it’s near impossible for a mouse to get stuck in anything because their bones are beyond flexible. (Who’s dreaming, here?)

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumbled out to deflect the issue. (Do they know what they’re talking about?) My lucidly languid thought patterning quipped internally.

“It’s in the pipe, behind the grate,” they pressed, clearly wanting my help.

“Leave it alone, I’ll deal with it, later…Let me sleep.”

Maybe the issue would resolve itself. It had made its way there by mysterious mouse magic. Maybe it could find its own way out.

++++

Youngling’s account, in their words:

I heard weird splashing sounds coming from the drain, far-too erratic to be caused by a leaking faucet. Flicking on my phone’s flashlight, I gazed into the depths of the drain to see movement. A cluster of long white things crowded below the drain’s grate. What was that? Had a spider crawled inside? No, they were whiskers, and little rodent feet revealed the mysterious creature to be a mouse. It splashed around in backed-up pipe water, gazing up at me with beady black eyes.

I laughed. How on earth had it gotten there? More importantly, why? What had compelled this little mouse to crawl through our entire drainage system? And just how waterboarded had it gotten, by that point?

I chuckled and tried to wake mom, her half-asleep words calling in a confused tone. “Mouse? Mouse?? In the sink? Which sink? No more, deal with it tomorrow. Sleep.”

I checked back on the mouse to see it hanging from the sink’s grate by its teeth, its little nose peeking out of the drain. It hung there, staring at me. It seemed to be okay sleeping there for the night.

Of course, mom forgot about the mouse, and proceeded to waterboard it more the next morning, before we freed it.

++++

Around 9 am, I got up, used the toilet, and washed my hands, toweling them dry before shambling back to bed for more sleep.

Around 11:30 am, I resigned myself to get up, as I could hear my parents outside loading their caravan, preparing to leave soon.

I used the toilet and washed my hands. Then, I brushed my teeth, spit, flossed, brushed, and rinsed again, finishing with more spitting out any remnants. I dried my mouth, then went back to the sink and rinsed off my face once…twice…three times with the water still running.

I dried my face and curled my bangs, brushed my hair, and went in search of a hair tie to gather my hair with.

++++

2 pm

“Mom…did you get the mouse?”

“What mouse?”

“The one in the sink.”

“What mouse in the sink?”

And my youngest shows me where there’s been a mouse in the bathroom sink, which I now begin fuzzily remembering about – and to my dawning shame and horror, realize that I’ve been waterboarding it!

Thence ensued the following photos of rescuing what turned out to be a newly independent mouseling.

“I am determined that nothing but the very deepest love will induce me into matrimony.”

– Elizabeth Bennett, A&E’s Pride And Prejudice.

Last November, I had a dream, which was sparked by a dawning awareness, end of September to early October 2020.

I was watching a new movie and realized I had always loved one of the actors in it. From the moment I first saw him as a young man, and in brief glimpses in passing by things he worked on as he grew and developed over time, there’d always been something core inside me that Recognized him as, “Yes, that’s the one.”

I wasn’t in a good or safe place to process this realization being handed to me like a chiding slap in the face to wake up. In fact, it came right in the middle of experiencing the stabbing wound of my three year’s engagement being killed and smothered to death in front of me, while I visited my dearly betrothed for the last time.

What would I have done with the information, anyway? Even if in a perfect world with unlimited resources and no barriers to our communication? The actor was also younger than me – and, look how well this engagement with a younger man was going!

Still, as I got the chance at last to pray behind and to the right side of my beloved late at night, after the cool had finally broken the stuffling heat of the day, and the hijab his mother had affectionately bought for me was light in its soft, smooth cotton and comforting me like a blanket, I stared up at the planet Mars with the deepest yearning as tears welled slow and trickled heavily from my eyes, and my soul sought for and sent out its call for the return of love’s deep connection.

Only the silence of the great void greeted me in the vast expanse of untamed Egyptian sky. Only the warm, melodic cadence of the man I’d loved singing his prayers to Allah for me to hear, witness, and be embraced by as a parting gift of his love for me, in a last memory’s cherished lullaby.

++++

I don’t know if it’s true, because I cannot see behind the veil, but there is a sense that sometimes we get bumped up close to people, in time, that we normally would never have crossed paths with.

When this happens, it seems to be that there’s a purpose to it: something from one person gets “rubbed off” onto the other person, and they go forward on their track in life, a bit changed from who they were before.

++++

What was the dream – what happened? Well, I will tell you, but pay attention.

Because it isn’t in the details of what I’m telling you, it’s in the spaces in-between where the mystery beckons, where silence waits for our minds to be quiet and look for hidden information.

For me, it’s in having done a lifetime of soul searching, counseling, and trial-and-error testing in life’s physical plane of “functionality,” and extrapolative ponderations that would’ve given even the greatest philosophers a run for their money, that makes certain elements resonate in certain ways for me.

It was a simple dream with a few detailed parts. I called a character the actor had played, not knowing the actor played him. I asked him if he was available, and if he would like to spend some time with me. He said, yes – that he would be right over. There was a connection of mutual interest.

As I waited for him, I stepped outside the house where I was staying. A river came to meet me, and parted into streams around me, flowing easily and full on either side of me where I stood on solid, dry ground, and the cool, moist air from the water’s passage refreshed my senses. I gazed out to where the streams ran to meet the sea, and I wondered about eternity.

Here, I could tell you, “Oh, I am ‘The Water Bearer’ on cusp of Pisces.” Or I could say sagely, “All rivers eventually return to the sea.”

Point is, this moment was very symbolic for me because I could feel that what was happening was definitely a message, and the fact I called him – and then, he agreed and wanted to see me – was something neither of us would normally be doing, in reality.

I resolved to discover who the actor was who played that character, and was surprised to find he was the same person I’d seen in the movie’s viewing in Egypt. I was astonished at how the dream had gotten under my protective barriers and seemed to be telling me to contact him.

++++

I did try to reach out to the man and introduce myself to him, but I never had solid confirmation it was truly him with whom I was speaking.

My youngest went into surgery, and I wrote thoughts, poetry, desires, ambitions, fears, questions, and curiosities to the actor by text, just holding onto the contact, not sure what our connecting together could really mean.

Whomever was on the other side of the text feed, I knew I was likely overwhelming him. I felt pressed for time, driven to share as much creative info about my self as I could with him. I knew this was a rare chance to show him parts of me nobody else knew – and that might never be seen.

I told him I wanted him to know he was loved, for himself – as a human being. I wanted him to keep believing in goodness with every fiber of his being. I wanted him to know that I believed in him and knew he’d keep doing amazing things.

And then it happened. The portal snapped closed. The line was cut suddenly, and we floated off again, separately, into our own sides of time and space to resume independent patterning.

My messages either got through to him and made sense, or they didn’t, and last I heard, he’s living his life pleasantly.

++++

Celebrities cannot afford an easy-going Zoom call without worrying who else will see it. They cannot say whatever they’re thinking offhand because someone might misinterpret their meaning, misquote them, or even lie about such things. Celebrities cannot afford – for all their wealth – the luxury of being “free.”

We “own” them, in a sense. The public does.That’s exactly why I’d remained all my life hiding in the shadows of “obscurity.” I never again wanted to be controlled by anything censoring honesty, charity, or good will in creative expression.

But, our brief pass so close that possibly bridged our realities sparked courage in me to begin standing in the light with him.

And thinking he might have been there, truly listening, meant the world to me. Not because he was a celebrity, but because, even before he “Became Somebody,” he’d always been a man I’d admired.

When I was a child, I wanted to find the words. As I grew, they began coming to me. As I overcame, they danced with me. Today, I feel empty – and they are silent.

(A few months ago)

We are in the final days before our
Consciousness becomes aware.

There’s no stopping it, this time:
Even our planet is now primed.

The populations are too great
And resources too plundered:

The tipping point is maximized –
Poised for advanced civilization.

The next morning, after a night of huddling with little sleep in the cold on a nondescript park bench, I made it in time to the shelter before breakfast was over. A plain clothed older woman volunteer took my name and gave me a number, pointing to the trays and explained how the food line worked.

It was crowded and musty, with more than a hint of unwashed body odor, and I knew I didn’t belong there. But, I needed help, and no one would believe my story. I could only start with the basic facts, and rebuild myself from there – with a little luck and supportive guidance, hopefully from the agency.

After picking at the breakfast, a mixture of items that tasted like they’d come from long-term storage in musty church cupboards, I resolved to wait as long as it took for my number to be called. I made myself doze to avoid eye contact or awkward conversations with the other women of various ages and impoverished circumstances. It distressed me to be there.

Around 11:30 am my number was at last called, and a younger woman by the name of Kyra began my intake. The usual stuff: name, date of birth, address, phone number, place of employment, nearest relative, circumstances that brought me there today.

I gave my name and date of birth, and then jumped to, ” Look. I’ve found myself in a weird situation. Apparently, I’ve had amnesia. I know my name and birthdate, but is there a way you could help get my fingerprints run to find out where I’ve been – and where I belong?” I was determined to hold out hope I’d had some form of life in the past ten years. “I also don’t have ID, money, food, clothing – or a place to stay. Can you help me with this?”

Kyra’s look of mild surprise was followed by unsure belief, “Er…we’ve never had your kind of situation here before. Maybe you should go to the police?” “I thought of that,” I replied, ” but I’m worried about what circumstances brought me to this. I don’t know anyplace to go that is really Safe while I figure this out. I really need your help, Kyra. I don’t know who else to turn to.”

The concern in her bright blue eyes deepened and she somberly nodded her head, “Well, of course. I will see what we can do.” “Thank you so much,” I said, sagging back into the chair with relief. This action on my part seemed to strengthen her resolve, and she hurried out of the office to speak with a colleague.

After a few minutes, Kyra returned with a tall, older man with worry lines worn into his brow. “Hello, Miss. Kyra has explained your situation to me and it does seem more a matter for the police to handle. However, realizing you must be exhausted, confused, and in need of some support, we can get you a room and some counseling, as well as a visit with our confidential nurse. They’ll make an assessment as to what’s to be done from there. Sound good?” And he rose to lean across the table to give my hand a firm shake. “Welcome to The Women’s Sanctuary.”

++++

One thing I had not realized, but learned I could now count on, was that once you were admitted under the protective wing of The Women’s Sanctuary, no influences – police, or others – could find out you were there, and thus, could not gain access to you. It was kind of its own private society, bound by rules to uphold a woman’s safety, where man and society had before let her down. I resolved to discover how I could stay there – at least until I knew more about the external situation.

I was not naive, however, and realized I must still learn to trust noone. I must stay on my guard, be ever alert, and rely upon the kindness of those who seemed genuinely caring.

i learned that many women there came from harsher backgrounds. What’s the loss of the last ten years by some mind wiping compared to enforced prostitution, domestic violence, and childhood enslavery? There was a rumor going around that “spies” had infiltrated among them. Some women still shivered and cried at night, afraid someone would come to get them. But, it was better than being on the streets, and nobody complained. It was hard enough to get a warm bed – and keep it, with a staff that seemed genuinely sincere.

Extrapolates from the “real” and “farfetched,”
Weaving a pattern toward hope’s prosperity.

“Write what you know.”

They call them “tasps” because they tap into your neurology and can induce pleasure – but, that’s for the addicts to go on about.

They were created in an attempt to help those with difficulties bridge synaptic gaps by use of pinpoint select energy currents, rather than continued use of synthetic drugs (by 2097, we all knew their use was barbaric).

But, something happened – “went wrong” one day when they hooked up one patient to the program. Her name was Paula, a Latina woman, and according to her psychologist, she’d been progressing well in the therapy.

++++

A middle-aged woman with glasses, gives content to images sequencing on a movie screen to a large assembly of educators, field specialists, news crews, university students, and corporate representatives.

“The ‘Arc Effect’ or ‘Leap’ occurs when currents of energy bridge across muscle and bone to join with neural currents within the brain’s matrix.

Theories suggest electrochemical charges within this matrix rely on attraction and parallelism, where combinations of chemicals are formed and regulated within the brain, creating a continuum of operant cooperation – usually trending to benefit human daily functionality.

However, if needed charges are missing, or an irregular, nonbeneficial current gets established in the charged system, interventions are necessary – whether by somehow adjusting the internal regulation system, or by externally giving a push toward the better direction for internal self-correction.

Here is where the Transference Adaptive Specialization Program (TASP) can do wonders.

We have run thousands of scans, mapping brain wave frequencies of high-functioning individuals. Then we have analyzed these along the light wavelength spectrum and created a general model of a healthy, dynamic brain.

When we scan an individual’s brain who is suffering from depression, for example, we see what spectral frquencies it is missing, compared to the model.

Once we find the wavelengths that need strengthening, we calibrate the machine to provide those these in the therapy’s treatment.”

A hand raises in the presentation room.

“Yes?”

A young man stands up and asks, ” What if a patient has too much of a wavelength type. What do you do, then?”

“Ah. Excellent question. We counter by adding a wavelength which will turn the overage toward a new balance – much like when mixing colors on a palette, as when mixing red and blue makes purple.”

Another hand raises, from a young woman in a lab coat. “Isn’t there a danger of causing an imbalance to the patient’s natural internal regulatory system? The brain governs all of the human system’s functioning. Isn’t is a grave risk you are taking with this energetic application?”

The presenter nods her head, but says with confidence, “We are already seeing amazing results in our clinical trials, and taking every precaution ‘deemed appropriate.’

Treatments are in small exposure amounts and times, and post observation is consistent. So far, there seem to be no negative side effects!”

++++

“Always keep the pressure right here,” instructed the lab technician.

“Press your forehead, here, and rest your chin, here,” as he helps Paula’s positioning in the sitting up face cradle.

“If you feel any heat or discomfort, you’re to let me know immediately, ok?”

Paula nods in agreement.

“It’s particularily important that you keep your eyes focused on the changing color patterns in front of you, on the screen.

Don’t close your eyes for more than a blink, or the connection’s progress will be lost. Do you understand?”

Paula nods again and nervously licks her lips.

++++

What is thought, but a synaptic intention?
What is reality, but our mind’s inventions?

We assign “consciousness” to beast or human,
Secure in limitations of base comprehension.

But, what if it’s more than we give credit for –
And awaits our curiosity to engage with it?

The door swooshed open, and Mancy was there – her eyes filled with angry tears of betrayal. “You stupid git!” She angled at me, ” I stood up for you, tried to protect you!”

Chaz’s quick hand side chop silenced anything further she has to say, as Terrence caught her body, easing her limp unconsciousness gently to the floor. Then, the team surrounded me as we fled through the store with Chaz leading, heading for the side exit.

Escape, first. Questions later.

“I like you better now as a brunette than a blond,” Chaz tossed back at me to get my attention. This snapped me out of being distracted by Mancy, and the team could move more quickly with me focused.

As the side door banged open from Chaz’s force, I could see a helicptor had touched down before us with blades still rotating. I was tossed unceremoniously up into the cargo bay like a lumpy sack ofmiscanieous and the team clambered in to distant sirens approaching quickly while wailing. The pilot took us up into air as we hastily distanced from the building, shouting back to Chaz, “We’ve been monitoring the waves for any activity – glad to have you back with us, buddy!” Chaz clapped him affably on the shoulder and the chopper’s noise muffled his heartfelt return…

Which brings me back to the restaurant years later: how did I come through all of that – to wind up here, until now, with no recollection? From a glance by Chaz, my rediscovered grandparents ushered me back into the kitchen. Chaz played off my reaction to him in front of the Russians as some past known schoolgirl fantasy. “Small world, i guess!” As he ruefully shook his head, and after a pause, considering, they laughed with him at his expense in cajolery

I felt embarrassed and confused as my grandparents tried to shush and divert me. Small world indeed. I had a bone to pick with him about my memory!

Two hours later, rumpled and distraught, Chaz grabs me by themy upler arms and starts firmly shaking me. “I told you to forget about all of that – to forget about me!” Dazed, and in shock, I replied, “Oh yeah? What did you do to my memory?!” He dropped my arms instantly, taking a step back from me. “What do you mean?” He asked warily, eying me as if I had some trick up my sleeve. “I mean, I didn’t remember any of this until just this evening!”

“Impossible!” He said, shaking his head in denial, then looking at me quizzically. “Then why were you at the range, today – watching me?” “You saw me? I thought I was being casual about it. I have no idea why, or how I got there. Just…I was there…and watching you. Like in a dream.” His raked a hand through his short,curled in agitation, looking down – then up at me.

“What the f—…?” His voice trailing off as he absorbed my reply. “Well, stranger things have happened,” he grudgingly reflected. I remembered he was right and blankly nodded, unsure of my standing with him – or in this reality!

***

We arrived on top of an unmarked building, the chopper pilot giving a thumbs up to the team as swung away after we dismounted. Once through the large metal clanking door, we trotted several flights of stairs down and entered through a quieter door into a long corridor. Numbers passed by on fog-glass doors with no other markings. There was no clue as to for whom the team was working.

when we reached the end of the hall, Olivia took my arm, guiding me into the nearest room. “You know she’ll have to be debriefed in ‘Processing.”” Chaz paused, and then nodded his assent as he and the rest of the team returned down the hall to the stairs and disappeared.

+++

“That’s the last thing I can remember,” I stated, squinting as I tried to think clearly. “Sh–!” He muttered. “They must have wiped you, then sent you wandering. They do that sometimes with incidental ‘casualties.'”

“Ok, but how did that get me to watching you – and to here? I countered. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But, I don’t trust it. Someone’s trying to counter my game.”

“But, what if my memory was coming back, and I knew how to find you? What else could anyone have to gain? I clearly mean nothing to you.” He flinched at my remark, which surprised me.

“Listen,” he said earnestly, this time taking me by the arms more gently. “You don’t belong in all of this. You belong somewhere far from here – safe, happy, and Free!” I couldn’t make sense of his words. Everything was just happening so quickly, and his kinder touch threw off my internal balance.

“Let go of me!” And as he did, I backed away hastilly. “Well, where would I go – who would I be? This idea of yours doesn’t seem to have worked the first time!” I leaned backwards against a counter, reached for, and shakily sipped some grown-cold herbal tea.

He gave me a wan smile and quipped, “That’s something I’ve always liked about you: you could always keep up with me.” “Liked,” not “loved” – and there we had it. I’d always cared more for him, than him caring for me. (Get it through your head, girl. Look what not doing so has brought you to. I know, right? Get a life, get a brain – get a new Destiny!)

Suddenly, my posture sagged in weariness. “Can I just be done with this, already?” “I’m sorry, but for the time being, you’ll need to stay here with your grandparents. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble, and we need to make them feel they’re succeeding.”

(Isn’t this cliche?)

I thought about it all for a minute, wanting to break out – just burst through the veil. No matter what normal path I could choose, I would be trapped. There was no love here – and certainly, no future.

“No. I won’t be a pawn in this,” I said as I put down the cup of tea, firmly. I grabbed the coat I’d been wearing earlier, and since I had no money or ID, headed off to find the nearest woman’s shelter.

Chaz didn’t follow me. He seemed surprised I was leaving, and probably thought I’d be back after my “head cooled off.”

To care for others as we can;
To defend where we’ll stand.

To make huge mistakes
And then fall from Grace –

To get back up
And try again.

Everyone has Potential – but,
Are they willing to invest in it?

“There Was The Word…”
Consciousness was born.

My heart is ever on them 😉

Interesting things happen when
You let a garden go its own way:
Nature shares secrets with you.