Candid Corvid Productions

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Religious doctrines would give reasons for all suffering, but I find these reasons so outdated and unsatisfying.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

It has always been confusing and disappointing that the great love I feel inside of me is not often reflected in the world around me.

They say things like “Be the change you wish to see in the world…” This is one heck of a responsibility when taken seriously!

I am so done with this.

So done with investing in people who are not following through on their end.

I’ve gotta streamline these efforts, somehow.

I can’t just keep burning up my own candle without return’s replenishment.

Sometimes, taking wild leaps is necessary…

It seems crazy to me that I find myself at the same place as the people here trying to just climb out from being on the darker streets.

As I also network for more employment like the grungy younger man leaning against a bike rack, interviewing on the phone with a cigarette, how do we converge at the same intersection?

My education is greater; I have achieved more professional and competance mastery; and, I have already weathered and overcome previous homelessness.

So why am I back here now? How again by the hands of others’ arbitrary decisions?

It is a wonder that I can even cling to any self acclaim, given the negative psychological impact of the trials I continue experiencing.

It does not help me to read what is outdated, of past lessons I have already gleaned the truth from.

What I need is current applications and wisdom for the day – not “wishful thinkmuth.”

I need to feel a sense of God imbued in every tree.

I need to feel like I belong – instead of trapped and losing.

(Quote is an Eddie Izzard reference)

Maintaining a balance when the tidal forces pull from multiple directions is next to impossible.

It comes down to pushing ahead and making sacrifices – cutting off things invested in and valued in exchange for mere survival.

“Selling out” is what they call it.

If one can hedge and at least thrust such actions still into a positive forward motion, perhaps one can still view this as successful.

I am not sure in times such as these that having high standards is a mental-emotional benefit.

The perceived losses at values and gains unmet can feel soul crushing to the point of self labeling as a “failure.”