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I love a good free-for-all. The recall election in California could only flag the beginning of the race to de-throne the rest of the political world. Bush's recall petition arrived in the email today. No surprises here. But I don't sign it. Why? Still afraid they are watching. Still content to observe. Hurricanes brew in the Atlantic and the Pacific. We are surrounded. Mental disturbance on both fronts. Panoramic reflection of where we are. Now, where are we going? Ride the wind. Recall the president, the governor, the police chief, the clerk at the corner store. Let the games begin.
Never forget that the computer is a box, nicely contained in a binary world of black and white. How tragic: I am NOT. I have forgotten and YOU insist on one and zero. I cannot produce the information. I have forgotten the damned password. I established this account based on bogus information that I FORGOT. I told you this. You ask: What is your pet's name? I tell you but I STILL don't remember the birth date I used. You are a box. Inferior. I am flesh and blood with the ability to forget. I have forgotten. Deal with it!
Went to the city today. Tramped around the Strip District for a couple of hours. Delightful. But it is beyond me why a city whose movement is totally dependent on bridges and tunnels would close or repair so many of them at once. Send all the crews to Washington Crossing and be done with it. Not complaining. Just wondering how these things are decided. Committee, no doubt. Oh for the benevolent dictator with a decent head on her shoulders. Sometimes less is more. The water is high everywhere. At least there ARE bridges. Even though half of them are closed.
Dreamed I was taking a walk with Tom Cruise last night. Don't know why. I was giving him a message from some young kid who was his co-star in a movie that I dreamed about earlier. I love it. A dream within a dream. It's WHERE we walked that has me wondering. The last time I walked THERE Susan was giving me Billy's diagnosis. AIDS. Prognosis? Dismal. Then in dawns on me that today is the anniversary of that walk. Twelve years. Geez! And he is gone eleven. How much better to walk with Tom. Alive. And healthy. I hope!
There's nothing better than coming home from a carefree day, only to find a message from your lawyer. A reprimand for feeling free? Or a punishment for being happy? Is it a slap in the face for daring to forget there are people who hate you and want to blame you for all the shit they've brought onto themselves? And when are we going to eliminate the word ‘ex-husband.' He's just another person on the planet with whom you have nothing to do. Stranger. Non-relative. Space occupier. To be an ex- implies history and sometimes history must be obliterated. Right?
Forgive me for not caring properly, but I can't get into the [
figure it out
] thing. Saw the interview yesterday. Something about that face screams ‘beat me with a baseball bat'. Don't know why. They say that the ‘victims' of this life were often ‘victimizers' in another life. Is that what I see? Just desserts, the balancing of soul accounts? Or maybe it's the way they hid her identity. Could I ever get away with THAT? Never. Don't care to even know her name. I don't have room for it. Why bother. She's paying her karma and I'm paying mine.
Bought our first DVD player this evening. Why am I sad? All I can think of is Phil and all the Sundays we drop in and sit around on the floor watching music DVDs. We don't need you anymore Phil. Is that what I am feeling? It IS true that with every gain there is a loss. After all, we can just as easily sit at home now and watch the same thing. Gonna have to make sure it doesn't happen. HECK, Phil's the only one who OWNS any DVDs that interest us. Gotta GO there to BORROW, eh? Whew!
Ready? Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM Om om oM OM …Drat! …Still here…
I find it somewhat satisfying to realize that the main discontent… problem… in my life is money. I HAVE the rest. And I am realizing that empty pockets are a gift in that for all the years of my life, I have never been able to ask the deities or whoever it is that grants wishes, for money without feeling desperate, greedy, and attached. Today, I GET it. The genie will only grant the wish when the riddle of the question is solved. Gimme? Inappropriate. Please? Nope. But, forget the cash and go for fulfillment? You've really GOT something there!!!
Been toying with the idea of boycott. Yea, verily, the power of boycott. Like refusing to allow ourselves to believe in Hollywood anymore. Just NOT go to Nic's new movie. Or what would happen if we all agreed to drop our health insurance at once and refuse to pick it up again? Insurance companies fails. Nobody to pay the doctors. The doctors drop their prices. We WIN! Actually, it'd be a total mess, but just think of how it could end. Affordable health care…
corporate gouging. Or better yet, let everyone refuse to file their taxes next April. Imagine…
These are two olive trees, the two lamp stands that stand before the Lord of the earth. Now, the beast will attack them, and overpower and kill them. They will lie in the street of the great city.… But a breath of life from God will enter them, and they will stand on their feet again, striking awe in all who see them. Revelation 11
The reason Black Beauty is a classic is because everyone can identity with it. Who HASN'T been treated like Tony the Pony at one time or another and yet inside he just KNOWS that he is something great! At least he USED to be. And what about the sense of relief at being re-discovered by the stable hand who remembers your glory years. Put me to pasture under THOSE conditions if to pasture I must go. Or better yet, restore me to my former greatness. Dress me up and take me out on the town, head held high and proud.
I wish I could get my mind to slow down. Too much going on. It is not that things are going badly. On the contrary… things are finally going WELL. I am excited about it. Overwhelmed. I am on this continual high. Something has changed in my life. Even Zee says I seem lighter. Could it be that the dark night of my soul has passed and I am on my way? I feel like my destiny is now pursuing ME. Like mad lovers we rush in slow motion toward each other on a black and white beach. Pure excitement!
Today I went to the flea market. I always get a kick out of what people refuse to throw away. Why does one person's plastic plate go in the garbage while the same plastic plate ends up on someone else's sale table? I saw the same thing this summer when I met a friend at a local restaurant. Some would have called for a doggie bag, but she sent over half of the meal off to the garbage. Interesting… the difference. Is this the same thing that makes some people stay in hostile relationships while others head for safety? Thrift?
I can't believe we have stooped so low as a society, that we no longer make toilet paper that can pull it's own weight. I think we should all boycott wimpy toilet paper. The ‘see though' kind that rips at the corners when you try to pull it down. The kind that you have to physically unroll it because it has no strength of its own. That single ply stuff. I think we should all boycott places that use the darn stuff. This is America. If we are known by the quality of our toilet paper we are a disgrace.
So we go to this bar and we tell the guy we'd like to play there sometime and he says blues don't go too well here and we look at his schedule and sure enough he has not one not two but three blues band booked there in September alone and we leave him our stuff and walk away shaking our heads and wondering what's wrong with these guys that they can't figure out what kind of bands they want and we both know there is no answer to the question except that booking is wasted on the wrong people.
ISABEL: "I have to wonder about the guy who says he's going to sit in his houseboat while my winds rage and if the moors break, he hopes to run aground and step off somewhere. I mean… it's POSSIBLE that in the 21st century, there are people who have never seen post-hurricane footage. MAYBE he's never seen interviews of the once-defiant sniveling with REGRET. Maybe, the word ‘EVACUATE' is not in his vocabulary. And MAYBE, he doesn't realize what hurricanes can do. Perhaps he's got the inside scoop on his own immortality. But then again, MAYBE he's just plain STUPID!"
I am sick as a dog today. Is there a tune you could play me to make me well? "In the old civilizations, they didn't have diseases as we know them. It would be incredible if you could produce music so perfect that it would filter through you like rays and ultimately cure." – Jimi Hendrix (Interview with Bob Partridge, Record Mirror, September 1970.) Are we any way nearer than we were? We are energy and intelligence. Music is energy and intelligence. Send us the key, Jimi. Send us the cure. R.I.P. This was your day of departure. September 18, 1970
If you were a canvas I would paint you blue. Not a sad blue but the blue of brilliant skies. Clear and shining. I would paint you red for passion. Green for growth, and yellow for daisies small. I would paint you full of resolution and satisfaction. Problems solved. I would turn you inside out and underneath where grubs and worms dig airy tunnels to feed the roots of all things. I would paint you dark as a gift to the light. Mud out of which the lotus grows. May I introduce you. Brothers and friends. Na myoho renge kyo.
Can I help it if I don't like being left out? That you are always first with my ideas? That I am ok when it's you and me, but when we add the outer world I disintegrate? Can I help it if the memory of all my losses hides …barely …waiting for the slightest trigger? Can I help it if your independent ways remind me of the fact that I am dispensable, unneeded, or convenient? Can I help it if I wish you would see me when you look at me? You trigger this paralysis and live happily on …oblivious.
I get a kick out of reading that Albert Einstein was not wanted by his teachers or would-be colleagues because he was argumentative and disliked authority. Thank our lucky STARS that he WAS! Where would we be if he was compliant and gave in to the powers that be? They say the stars have lined up as they were from 1962-1969. Should be interesting to see that Shiva dance of rebellion and creativity. Maybe we'll GET somewhere now. It is not that authority is bad or unnecessary. It is just that a benevolent authority would ALLOW you to surpass it.
If it is true that the only way to kill a vampire is to drive a stake through his heart while he sleeps, then this is what I choose to do. To NOT do so is to risk being your meal again. I would hope I have more self-respect than that. Duped… for so many years. What was that line Karen read to me? "…I mistook your pity for kindness and your cynicism for wit…" Here! Here! Now I get it. If I can learn this one lesson you shall have been my greatest teacher. The Count himself. You… ex.
I have experienced life. And life has experienced me. I am angel. I am human. I have lived and with that life I fuel the fire of who I will be. I am what I have been. I have been what I am. What I was is, is gone, and is again. That which was, is. That which is, was. Take, eat, this is my body given for you. This is my blood, shed for you. Drink. I live so that you might be. "The last for which the first was made. Trust God, see all, nor be afraid." LIVE!
So Chuck has befriended a chipmunk. I guess he began by talking to him through the screen door. Scolded him for eating through a garbage bag. Then offered him some boiled peanuts in the shell that we bought at the flea market. I guess Chip liked them. Kept coming back for more. Finally a day comes when Chuck looks out and notices that the little guy has brought him a gift in return. Laid it right there where the peanuts had been. A flower bulb. A gift. An exchange. Intentional. Keeps happening. Peanuts for bulbs. Our drummer's reaction… "INTENSE, man!"
How nice that there is a NO CALL list going into effect. No more feeling compelled to advise telemarketers they are worth MORE than this job. "Have some self-respect," I say. "QUIT!"
Now what about bulk mail? Has anyone figured out yet that the price of postage has gone up in order to support the grand sport of advertising.
And what about billboards, scarring up the landscape. Are we so stupid about our own needs that we need to be reminded at every turn?
And when will they fire up the NO SPAM list? That's the one I'm waiting for!
Today, I threw away all the beef in my freezer. Just can't hack it anymore. Chicken has just begun to weird me out. Also, I used to eat a lot of frozen veggies and can't stand them anymore. I crave FRESH. I do brown rice and fresh veggies and am into peppers as a veggie or a spice. Have just started eating salad again but not iceberg lettuce. Boring. I prefer the fresh baby spinach or fresh baby greens. I am digging the soy milk products lately. All this from a former meat and potatoes with cheese girl.
Brother, son, nephew, uncle, friend, human, earthling, Milky Way inhabitant. GONE. On this day in the year of our laugh 1992. ELEVEN years ago. And yet BORN, into a greater reality, the parallel universe, our twin planet, abode of the gods which we are. Do I grieve today? Nope. Birth begets birth and his begat mine, right? We live, we die, and yet we live, only fuller and more awake! Bizarre twist, embedded gift. I remember what you were, how you were, who you were. And I honor what you are, who you continue to be. Nothing is lost...
Can anyone tell me why, when you try to throw SOME things into the wastebasket, they just very nicely float off to the side and onto the floor? Is there some sort of vapor in there? Some kind of air pressure pushing things up and away? And why can that same something be dropped from the same height and in the same manner over the open floor with nary a wastebasket in sight, and that item will fall true and straight as an arrow? I do not mean to be difficult, nor to complain. I merely wonder about such things.
I have discovered that most of the troubles I have encountered in the past six to nine months can be traced directly to my insistence on rescuing somebody. And not just acting impulsively either, but in acting RATIONALLY. Put one and one together and two is the result. Right? WRONG! Not everything that gets broken needs fixed. At least, not by ME. Especially if it breaks me just as badly in the process. Remember the double drowning. Sometimes a ride over the Falls and into the next dimension is required. For THEM! Am I wrong if I choose to live?
Harry took a long drag on the last cigarette in the pack. He wadded up the package and tossed it into the street; something he wouldn't normally have done. He pondered the insidious news he would soon be sharing with his client. She had trusted him and he had let her down. He conjured up the image of her disappointment. The horror of it all. He stood up for a moment, contemplating fleeing the scene before its enactment. But changed his mind. How was he going to tell her?… her prize porcupine was dead.
TO BE CONTINUED…
(don't count on it!)
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