Duality Nullified and I'm No Longer a Skeptic

We've all heard the euphemisms:  Why Not?  You're only young once, Live to the fullest.  Don't look back.  Move forward.  Don't worry about the small stuff.  Then you simply can't forget about all the marketing sayings, logos, trademarks and copyrights that yack in the same manner.

I write in spurts, but tend to avoid a few topics.  No, I take that back.  I avoid talking about God because I've always been turned off from people cramming different opinion and ideology at me. God is personal, and I've always felt speaking about him should only be in the most concrete and sincere way possible, and I haven't been very concrete.  Even though I wasn't sure, not speaking about belief and how I felt began to bother me.  Where am I on this fence, I began to ask myself this question too many times to ignore.  Oh, I know exactly where I am now. I started another blog a couple weeks back, and I've decided to not separate this from my original blog.  When I started writing there, I had good intentions, but things have happened between the time I decided to write on this topic to now.  I am not church and state, I'm just me, so I think dividing the topic out of my blog isn't being who I am.  Now on reflection, it seems like I was giving in to the idea in duality, and I just can't.

I am passionate about this post and happy to write this here.  I am not on that fence anymore.  I am Christian.  Those of you that read my blog know I talk pretty much down to earth, and I have to just put it out there.  I have been searching, and the search is over people.  I had an experience that changed me, scared me, that ultimately saved me and I am still in awe of the power of Jesus Christ.

I am now in the process of learning more about the Lord and understanding his word and reeling from just how powerful God truly is.

I will probably write more in detail, and give a backdrop but I feel compelled to at least put it out there simply.  I am only now beginning to read the Bible, but the Lord our God is real.  Real and tangible, and listening for those who want his salvation.

*Huge Breath*

So inside I was restless and I had been researching for a long while on all things spiritual and how they collide with every day.  I looked up everything, on all kinds of topics, from science to history to paranormal.  I've watched, listened and read many books.  I wanted compelling truth about the world I was living in.  I listened to podcasts, watched YouTube, played with apps and followed different new age ideas, prayed, contemplated, visualized, you name it.  Then I decided to try a spirit box.  At first it seemed pretty harmless and then it started getting compelling.  So I recorded what was being said. Then it got detailed and then I realized where I was teetering.  I started praying.  I said the Our Father.  Things happened.  I even said out loud stop pushing my buttons; well, my computer went on and off from across the room. [scary]  I called on Jesus Christ.  Every hair on my body stood up.  I felt it.  It was that simple, yet that scary, all at the same time.  I listened to my recording and what I heard was still there, just like the feeling of Christ in my heart.

He's still here with me.  The world makes much more sense now, and I am relieved that God heard me in all my sincerity.  I have much to learn about his word, and stating my belief in Jesus Christ is that first step. I had to take this moment and share my good news.  Jesus loves me and I know it, because I felt the moment when question and fear change into conviction and reality.  It's liberating, this feeling of not being on the fence.  I've got a lot of work ahead of me, but somehow,  its all possible.

I was intent on finding truth, and the Lord gave me what I needed.  So in closing, I am still me, just brighter and happier because I found what I was looking for.  I pray those who are looking find their way too.  Just from one believer to the skeptic, don't dabble.

Enumerate leads to Point Lost - Trivial LIST

I illuminate lest I enumerate..MAKING Sans Serif appear IRATE, in hopes size CAN enunciate.  BOLD, ALL CAPS I shake my Sans Serif fist. Just for gist, yes I’m pissed, ‘list’ with an IT twist.  With no probate (claims this magistrate).. I DAMN using the word enumeration.Explanation? …desecration.. Lack of congregation ... sputtering flames of instigation..  Lists me on the PC. 

Helevetically! 

{Sadly Sans Serif wouldn't publish here you see.}

Yes this is a rant about computers and the enormity of my everyday mind, which on reflection, has no problem with four letter words.

LIST: FUCK THAT.

SIGH. Not really. Just on PCs scrolling the word endlessly .. almost nefarious. After listing some file name like:  {AOEMEopkeafmkpwoemepvrmpwoeficloewpmpoLiewontieont} in a folder inside a folder inside a folder.  AH HA!  Kind of Like Yzma's brilliant plan in Disney's The Emperor's New Groove. 

Please note this content belongs to Walt Disney and is not my property.

Thank you.

For all you still reading:  I had to look up Helevetica, and I believe my trivia filter blew a gasket.  A sans serif typeface that has a 2007 film documenting its 50th anniversary.  It's funny, but I'm snarky about the linguistics and logic of so many everyday forces in my life.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helvetica

Finding Time

I'm finding it difficult these days to find time.  That statement as it stands is ludicrous.  Time being an illusion and everything.  I like this blog,  There are so many posts.  I find that it likes to crash on me.  I don't like going incognito to simply write.  I'm no expert on blog design, but I like my writing.  I don't know how to make it work.  I wish I could break it apart like Lego blocks, because that seems much simpler a concept to work with.

Part of me wants to start over, but how to move all this stuff.  Like I said, I like my blog.  I enjoy writing.  The thing is, I don't think this is the place for my blog to be settled in.  I don't know.  It's hard to get the right answers these days.

I have a lot to say.  However, its changing, the things I want to say.  Anyway.  I'll figure it out.  I do eventually.

It's 2:22

It's 2:22.
Enough of you.
I'm through.
with the bad taste
of talking
spew.

Chew.

Remember it's Only a Sandwich.
*hit!

Hush.
I must brush.
Sweater spew.
Stinks.
Phew.

Toothbrush renew.
To-
Morrow.

Intentions Make All the Difference

I don't believe in luck.  I know I've said that before. I think luck belongs to those who can't believe they participate in statistics.  I don't proclaim I understand statistical equations, but I know the formulas are out there and somewhere, all the time, I get plugged into those equations.

That said, and digging deeper, I do believe in things outside that mindset because neither luck nor statistics explain everything I experience in life. I've been on a quest of sorts.  Looking around, seeing the world for what it is, and how best to interpret the loads of information heaped upon my questioning inquisitive mind.  It's difficult to find truth these days.  For a time, not having answers weighed heavily.  I didn't even know what I was looking for, so I stopped wondering about that part.

I'm glad I let the concrete go, which means, I just kept educating myself. After much inner turmoil,  I reached out to someone.  I didn't have lofty expectations of anything (at least I told myself).  So when I received a response, I froze up.  It was so difficult to take in, someone was actually nice.  Nice for no reason or agenda. [This is different from the post: I Called Romania because I reached out for me, not a cell phone]  I'm not going to go into detail, it's not the point.  I asked a complete stranger for help of sorts, and this person answered back, comforted me by listening, but didn't try to solve any dilemma, give biased advice, nor attempt to convince me of any opinion they held.  I had a conversation with a person, who by just being nice, uplifted me.  I thanked this person profusely, and I think I probably made her day better with the thank you.  Being nice is so easy, and yet truly nice people are an enigma unto themselves. I wanted to mention this experience because it was a ripple in the pond that made a difference for me.  I am grateful for that person I reached out to, and uplifted in how kind and empathetically they reacted: directly, right then, because they wanted to. Isn't that beautiful to think upon?

It's the little things truly, that deep down, we all yearn for.  Someone to see us, someone to be kind; more important, to be honest because they want to be.  People treat others with honesty and kindness help us find the goodness in ourselves; and can help us see the subtlety of intention. Intention influences so much of our lives and the impact can be profound. I looked up the word intention at Merriam-Webster, and I love the definition.

I use many words and leave much out, but those details are not the reason I share my life blogging lately.  I used to get caught up on those snags of detail and my intentions were lost in erroneous detail.  I'm writing with the intent of inspiring others to think of their own experiences and how intent affects them.

Think about intention when you are online or chatting.  Ask yourself who you are and then compare that to what you intend to do or say.  Are they the same?  Do you think you are a good person?  Do you intend to be a good person?  It's a deep subject because your intentions say much about who you truly are, and they make a difference every day.  Good or bad.

I keep discovering wonderful people.  Statistics and luck be damned, I like the intention in looking for the honest truth that kind people make the biggest difference, one person at a time.

  

Mushrooms Have it Better

Mushrooms have it better I believe.  They used to have this bad reputation, being a fungus.  Nobody used to like them, not the people I grew up with anyway.  I couldn't order pizza with mushrooms because back in the day, people just didn't like them.  Mushrooms are my daughter's favorite vegetable. Ironic isn't it?  She will eat them in any form, raw, fried, baked or grilled.  Smart daughter.  I've had friends say mushrooms have no nutritional value. Now mushrooms are trendy and you find them in foods everywhere.  From lotions, to soup they've grown in popularity.  Now everyone's a gourmet.

What's my point, humm?  I guess maybe I wanna make a comeback like that.  Like mushrooms.  Ever considered the thought?  Only thrive in the worst conditions and get nutrients from detritus?

What do you know about mushrooms?  Most top answers would be: Some are dangerous.  Some are good to eat.  Others take you on a trip that could make you see things from a different perspective.  That about sums up public thoughts on mushrooms.

Mushrooms fascinate me because they only grow under certain conditions.  They only thrive when the environment becomes optimal for them to grow.  Until then, they just stay in spore form, waiting.

Then they just pop out of the ground, in all shapes and sizes. They grow everywhere mysterious ... practically overnight.

I found a great article on mushrooms, which puts them in a great light. How they can save the world.  Pretty deep shit, no pun intended.

How Mushrooms Could Save the World

So why do I think they have it better?  Mushrooms are survivors.  They are unique and beautiful, and even if sometimes deadly, well they get that respect.

So I believe I'm going to change my perspective on that old saying about them. Maybe its not so bad comparing my knowledge of things on that level.  I know I've said how I hated being a mushroom; being in the dark and fed bullshit.

You know, it takes the right conditions for mushrooms to thrive.  No matter what kind of mushroom it/we/I/us are, we thrive.  I like that. 

All the pictures of mushrooms on this page were pictures I took in my yard in one day.  Pretty amazing the variety, huh?  They were so pretty, I had to photograph them.  I don't know the names, so nope, they weren't eaten or picked.  I ran across them in my many photos and they inspired me to write, as I am wrestling with inner thoughts late at night.

So in between, I am attempting to see the beauty in fungus; and applying that notion to family.  They can be dangerous, but beautiful, ugly but edible, even seem to have no intrinsic value, and yet they do.

I suppose to think one is a mushroom is not a bad thought.

Al: Movie

I  just finished  watching  Avengers : Age of Ultron. I guess  you  just can't  unlearn  things. The  movie  gave me chill bumps.  A I deciding the fate  of  the  world. I got the chills.

Relevant  to this day and  age.

I Called Romania

The title definitely reels a person in, huh?  I called Romania.  Actually I called my cell phone provider and BAM, I found personality on the other end of the phone.  I had an amazing conversation that encompassed everything from family, society, beliefs and of course, cell phones.

This picture was clipped from Google Maps.

This person really did make me realize how crucial one conversation can be, no matter how the chance arises.  Crucial?  I know it sounds weird, but I needed something that made the world shiny in terms of good people. This person exceptionally was exactly that: a good person.  I have a happy heart with a better outlook than I did yesterday.  As incredulous as it seems, I am a believer in everyday happiness being a choice, but people Do and Can enhance the experience.

For a little while, the concept of global networking came together and didn't seem so damnable or nefarious in purpose.  Experiencing the bright and shiny and knowing it wasn't a veneer gives me hope.  I'm not some strange bug.  I'm not the normal, but not the strange either.  That felt very nice and comfortable.  It felt Happy.

It doesn't take much to turn the mundane into profound.  I hope I hear from Romania again, but if I don't, I'm still grateful for the soul food.

Readers, if you're wondering about the small points, I chose to leave out which cell phone carrier, whether the person was male/female and conversation snippets.  The point isn't about those things.

Googling Romania at 3:00 am with a big smile is the point.  

Static Cling of Nosiness

I have not written deep relevant thoughts and I need to just admit I know why for my own reasons.  Analytics and Twitter reveal some static cling and this bothers me to an extent.

OK, that was a huge lie, it offends every little particle of my being, and too many immature ideas have been flying around inside my head.  It is so hard to not break down and just start letting my inner asshole take over to compensate for a silence I have too long held.

This is the part where I am asking myself to breathe in and out and just be calm.  Oh Fuck that.  There is something so wrong with the world, yes, indeed so wrong with the world that when it affects the spin of mine, I get mad.  That's the deal, I literally have paced the walls of my inner self and I see things that I can not change.  Then I see the glaring things that bother me because I can do something. What does all this mean? One more item checked off the definition of Grown Up.  I make one huge self discovery that I wish I could take back.  Part of being mature and grown up is knowing this:  Hey, I get hurt a bunch. Ouch. That's scary.  Maybe I shouldn't be so.. me. Ouch, That's scary.  I like me.  Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

More Internal Monologue:
This is my blog.  I write here.  I don't have to worry about people's feelings here.  Shit I totally have.  I have a bunch of noteworthy life events to write about and I didn't type ANYTHING.  I was afraid of WRITING, Shit! Letting that soak in really Blows!  I need to slap myself or at least check my own pulse.  Who cares about the people that see this or find it.  Is this for them? NO.  That said, those who read my blog and find me interesting, thanks.  For those keeping tabs, here's my acknowledgement.  Whether good or bad, a 'hello' or 'fuck you' would have been food for thought or expansion.  All my own thoughts stay mostly under my cap, but its a slippery slope.  I guess I could change things, but I don't want to, other than to point out it's kind of tacky.  On the flip side of this seeming rant, I would be happy to say hello, long time, no see... I also would give me a lot of joy, because lighting candles that get blown out is exhausting.

I know that the above seems rather touchy and cryptic.  It's my life.  I can say it however... but I don't always feel the same at any given time.  The only thing that gets under my skin is the big NOTHING.

Say something, say hello and figure out what it is you want to know or ask.  Get to your point.  Let me get to my pointiness and round out my edges.  Don't get defensive.

Don't get defensive, hum, a couple of years ago, probably 100% true about me.  These days, I'm thinking.. territorial with a bit of defensiveness .. old mechanisms are difficult to put aside.

Then again, I'm the same and different.  Are you?

(The teal print is me being lazy about punctuation and inner monologuing)

Hold Up: Time Out

Has anyone else noticed a few things that call for an official time out? I'm talking about the kind of time out with whistles, hand signals and where people should actually freeze because a distraction like breathing could end the world? Yeah, did you at least slow down if you were walking?

Nope I didn't either.  Mostly because I don't watch sports, and couldn't reproduce all the hoopla involved with a time-out.  I don't know what a first down actually involves other than football.  I know too many people are wincing because I openly admit this lack of knowledge .. or information I refuse to remember.

Where was I going with this?

Time-Out.  I thought the idea was to have a lifetime to contemplate the meaning of it all.  Lifetime meaning:  I live a long time and then die.  I am supposed to have menopause first.  Hold up people.  I know the truth hurts, but my head?  Chop Chop!?

I didn't even know this ride was here.  Are we there yet?

Hello, I'd like to ask for a moment to ask myself:  What do I believe?

The Truth of Me: Searching for Answers

The Internet caught me by surprise, in the most visceral way.  You see, I have this character flaw I must somehow overcome.  In times of emotional crisis I tend to ignore the safety guidelines and punch the OFF button, instead of shutdown.  It has taken me awhile to realize how I rationalize what I'm doing.  I am rationalizing being afraid.  Instead of finding a different way to deal with life, I shut off things that hurt too much.  Then sit back and let my fear and imagination run away with me. Then when the agony of curiosity is too much to bear, I switch it all back on and endure the bombardment of everything I missed all at once.  It's not a great system, and I should stop it.  Somehow hitting that off button is so much easier than seeing it day to day.

Wow that sounds great in writing. Actually, the above paragraph doesn't even cover it. Each sentence actually contains a dizzying amount of buried anger, hurt, shame, fear, loneliness, love, hate, laughter, concern, self righteousness, vanity, courage, lies, sarcasm, wishes, dreams, loathing, desire, dreams all wanting a way to express actual truth.  The truth of me.

The truth of me. I ponder whether I will ever find this fully.  I have researched incessantly how to find this.  I already know I'm my own worst enemy.  My own mind will try to keep me from knowing.  The rest of the world is there to ensure that I accept I'll never know.  It is everywhere.  A trickle down process all designed for me to feel utterly helpless and alone and ignorant.

I find the whole concept repugnant.  There are books.  There is the Internet.  People can help.  There have to be resources, right?  Truthful places.  Yes.  There are, but none that tell the truth of me.  God is supposed to know.

I ask him about that a lot.  His silence helps further self doubt agendas.

I think God is silent because maybe I haven't asked the right question.  Or quite possibly the idea that he has been here the whole time is true, except I have grown numb to things outside of sight and sound.

I have had dreams. Epic dreams and I know somehow God is the source of them (Some of them at least).  He has my truth, safe and sound.  The reason I can't figure it out with my waking rational mind is simply because he finds that part of me so tiresome.

Hey, it's all I can come up with.  Dreams are where I'll find the answer.  Not because of some mystic mumbo-jumbo, but because I let God be real in there.  It makes so much sense that I want to cry.  Talking to God and knowing myself is as simple as taking a nap, or going to bed on time.  The thing is, I think I remember more of my dreams because I watch less TV.  The moment I allow myself to stay up all night I don't remember dreaming.

Maybe I'm alone in thinking like this.  So many things in this world says God is there when you invite him in.  I believe he's there and he stays when the rest of the world is prevented from shutting your abilities to hear and believe.

The true me?  She dreams at night.  She sees the day and lately it scares her.  It has become so real that it blots out sleeping.  Why?  So I can't get back to knowing right and wrong, real and fake and numb and cold.

The value of giving 20

I have had a long weekend.  I thought I saved something.  I thought I was doing a good job.  I don't know anymore. I was driving around ruminating over depression and loneliness...

 

What I do know is how cold it was this weekend. I had to wait till later to drive that day.  I was running an errand and dwelling on the previous night when I saw the sign.

 

Retired Veteran.  Will work and do anything. God Bless.

 

I took off my sunglasses and smiled at him.  The light turned green, but I put my car in park.  I waved him over.  There were lanes of traffic, but with a smile and tip of his hat he braved crossing in front of a guy already racing to make the light.  I rolled the window down and fumbled for my wallet, knowing I had a couple of bucks.

 

I had two dollar bills and one twenty, I thought I was broke...  In a split second, I pulled out that twenty and handed it out the window.

 

We never had a chance to smile at each other again because the world around us was impatient at me for holding up traffic and being in the middle lane, and of course, damning the man for not having a job and being so... poor. 

 

I hope he realized how happy his sign made me.  That was a good investment.  I smiled all day, God Bless I had twenty dollars.

 

It made the rest of life seem a bit stupid.

 

Some people just use me.  On purpose.  This guy simply had hope someone would allow him to ask.

Dollar Shave Club Inspires Memories of How It Should Have Been

Wow.  I identify with both parties in this commercial.  The guy wanting to know what he is refused access from the local pharmacy shaving ATM makes me empathize the most, but I have been buying razors long enough to not wait hopelessly at the box and stare at it. Nor do I get mad at the employee without clearance to the sacred keys...  BUT what the commercial reminded me of the painful days of toddler activities.....but I confess my days of gymnastics with toddlers and supermoms brought forth thoughts of socks and duct tape for certain moms... and a dart gun.

OK, OK before people shout out 'You hypocritical hater!' (I know, without details its very scandalous).  Let me fill in the blanks.  The duct tape is to be applied to any self proclaimed SuperMom multitasker (that can't park an Escalade.. it's creepy... Monster trucks seem to be the common mode of mammal movement these days); where was I... DUCT TAPING Mentally the Super's hand, to that God-awful screaming, drooling/oozing from every orifice CHILD I saw at least ten other women strangle with their eyes.  Meanwhile I'm wanting to simply lay hands upon their kid for neglect..it's VILE ...because LIKE a cartwheel into the vending area is so cool ten damned times (OH hell no sweetie, sit the fuck down DUCT TAPE).  The socks are for ... for .. that SuperMom I knew could swallow a pair of socks and STILL be heard bitching on the phone in the corner (acoustics people)... the dart gun... one for the teacher that made my daughter hate dance... a special WAKE up for the shit head supposedly teaching..  in my dream I have an arsenal of darts that I keep in my Batmobile.. or my Buick.. Betty.  I like to call them my 'sentials.  These tools are ESSENTIAL to me, the sentinel (I'm Batman)*

Seriously, I signed up for this.  Being a Mother and the Shave Club... bata bing. What a great company and super idea.  One for me and One for Him.  Delivered.  Razorblades delivered to my door.  Cool. Check it out.

https://www.dollarshaveclub.com/

*Please please visit the Channel HISHE on YouTube
https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCHCph-_jLba_9atyCZJPLQQ




Or their website:  http://www.howitshouldhaveended.com

What is the Message Sent Twice? One Eye.

I haven't been anywhere in two months, but every place.  I feel brittle.  Then the no-nonsensical me remembers what kind of world I truly live in.  So I crack every bone, sit and hone my smile, hide that voice. Don't be so inconvenient!  Seriously..

Yes we see.

Do we care?

Of Course!

that is,

(brilliantly)

Of Couture?

You?

'Umm Honey.  That foot sez ta me.... Paleeeze....Tattoo them for yo mid' life crisis!'

Can we get back to two eyes?

Not one.

A world of cyclops.

Knitting Sweaters

I should be upstairs.
knitting

If I follow that thread
I end up in bed

very warm.

That nettles (needles) knitting gnashing
thread by thread
sweaters.

I shed.
Down the stairs.
In my chair.

Fingers clatter, oh NOT to knit
finding

oh
well

Shit.




The answers are still the same.

1. My favorite channel is OFF
2. My right foot is not older than my left, as I cannot rearrange the space time
like Q...
3.  I have more fun with complete strangers.
4.  No Net.
5.  Mercy is actually an idiot's typo. Mer Ci
6. Yeah, I forgot, Hate me. it's fair. I hate you. Whoever you are.

Sisters and Life

I take too much for granted in this life I have.  Things that seem insurmountable to me would be a daydream for someone else to have.  I'm emotional at the moment dwelling on my sister, whom I admire profusely down to the very acidity of her struggles.  

She shrugged off my admission of admiration, and I can't take offense because I know why.  Believing in something makes a person vulnerable.  That's what my sister is, vulnerable.. and I can't stand the fact I am powerless to ease her hurts. God how I want to.

One thing I can do is put these words out there.  I admire my sister because:

1.  She happens to be an amazing mother.

2.  She is thrifty.

3.  She is brave.

4.  She has dreams.

5.  She improvises.

6.  She sings.

7.  She gives.

8.  She loves.

9.  She cries.

10.  Her children are her heart.

11.  She loves her family.

12.  She has grown up.

13.  She tries hard.

14.  She doesn't give up.

15.  She is funny.

16.  She is proud.

I could go on and on but I'm so glad enough time has gone by that we have become close friends.  I can't imagine not knowing her or needing her, because she is always there.

Lionel Richie: Find a Way to see Him in Concert

Before I back up the title of this blog topic, I want to put a question out there.  Do you realize how quickly we are moving through an age of the most brilliant and influential musicians of our time?  WE are.  'Elvis: The King Lives On' doesn't phase people these days because that's all they care to know about an American Icon.  I live to love music.  And the more history I learn, the harder I find myself scrambling for tickets to see these legends; people simply have forgotten the beauty of our roots in the glaring lights of Pop Culture and Reality shows.  PAY ATTENTION and enjoy, but remember too.  Whitney Houston is GONE and I never saw her in concert, oh how I wished I had... and Michael Jackson too.  Appreciate live music for what it is.  To me, a band live most of the time has more raw artistic sweaty galvanizing clarity and passion than what the radio or social media put out there.  Its personal.

On July 4th at almost midnight I found SALE tickets for Lionel Richie for $20 each.  I was SO grateful I didn't miss this chance to hear the man whose songs I know by heart.  My radio dial stops immediately of its OWN volition when I'm in my car "Dancing on the Ceiling" singing as loud as I can not giving a rat's ass who is eyeballing the Buick with the crazy woman shifting gears in time to the beat .. and "jamming in the street" at stop lights.

The above clip is blurry, but its short and beautiful..All music belongs to Lionel Richie, thanks.

Now since I'm confessing all, THE COMMODORES?  Lionel Richie sang 'BRICK HOUSE' last night.  I shook my winning hand shamelessly in glee because I really wanted him to sing it, but didn't think he would.  Amazing.

The concert began at 7:30 with CeLo Green, who impressed me more live than he does on the Voice.  He was vibrant in song, which is a quality I love.  My husband didn't even know he was the opening act and he was so appreciative of the date we had planned entirely by me.

The rest of the night, well, Lionel Richie blew us away.  US being the entire crowd.  I hugged my John close and turned around and the audience was beautiful.  They were hugging, loving, smiling and world peace felt achievable right in the middle of Hello while looking at all the faces.

Do your life a favor if you can.  Go listen.  Take it all in.  The sounds. The music.  The crowd.  If you have never heard Lyle Lovett live, you are missing out on Magic.  Willie Nelson, not seeing him is just wrong.  These are some of the ground breakers, they are the greats.  Seize your partner and be amazed.  And SING!

And well, I wished I had my camera out for one memorable moment of the night.  Watching a guy eat a corndog.  After that I kept looking for corndogs, but alas, there were no hungry males.  *sigh* It was hilarious!!

Calling Simple

I forgot what you sound like.
You're getting more distant than..........................................

Maybe getting to talk to you
Should be some string
tied between two cans.

You CAN _______________________ CAN I?

Say Hello? ------------------------------------ Hello?

"Operator, I need an exit"

"OK, Go upstairs, open the door, turn right, go through three doors, it will be ringing.."

[oh yeah, not the matrix] 

A friend inspired this thought.
I need them.

Lost:Dictionary Definition with Commentary

Merriam-Webster’s

Definition of the word:  LOST

lost adjective \ˈlȯst\ : unable to be found for I am a daily endlessness whose compliance dulls the mind.  Into the background I am everywhere: camouflaged of heart.

: not knowing where you are or how to get to where you want to go : unable to find your way And I so believed Dr. Seuss’ Oh the Places You’ll Go.

: no longer held, owned, or possessed Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord.. my soul to keep..because sadly I can’t give the best parts of me away.

Full Definition of LOST

1:  not made use of, won, or claimed I want to belong in a way I think exists in my head.

2 a :  no longer possessed with the passion that burns within..

   b :  no longer known to share the glory of dreams.

3 :  ruined or destroyed physically or morally :  desperate to not show how true feelings are raw and desperate to find courage

4 a :  taken away or beyond reach or attainment :  denied I only know what I want in life is for me to find on my own, help is a liar

   b :  insensible, hardened I need therefore I chase my own tail...

5 a :  unable to find the way How can I trust anyone?

   b :  no longer visible because I am a housewife, the world is too busy, be content with mediocre.

   c :  lacking assurance or self-confidence :  helpless because I am afraid, not of being fucking amazing or sexy, but of just talking about my ideas.

6 :  rapt, absorbed I light little candles and hope I am not settling, and more time passes and the candle flickers..

7 :  not appreciated or understood :  wasted I have so much to share with the world, if the world will merely give me inspiration and galvanize me in some way.

8:  obscured or overlooked during a process or activity I still do not know what happened and why no one opened their mouth to defend our family honor.  And it is a goal of mine to gather my courage to do just that.

9:  hopelessly unattainable:  futile the realization no one around me has seen my true potential to make a difference.  It makes the word lost sad because when I reach this, they might miss it.

So, are you lost? Can you be found? Will you see, if I look.  I run with lighted candle. Tears abound at memories of feeling so lost I screamed... was there a sound?  Or did the reverie catch up with you?

Should you be lost.. and I find ... you ... will you be?

Ah yes,

Blind.

To be by Choice

Choices

That's what people always say you have.

Choices are questions.

Choices are ultimatums.

Choices are verbalized cop outs by those around you.

When you're by yourself, that's supposed to be a choice too.

I didn't choose this.

I don't even want it.

It's not my language.

Talking is my language.

Hugging is my language.

Words are my language.

Words spoke out loud.

I love you. I need you. I want you.

Those aren't choices to me.

They are statements. In my language.

Bridge the gap.  Get out of your boat and float in words.

Maybe then I'll choose.

Because then I have more than what everyone else has.

Your silence is deafening.