Outlet
Power
Factory
Reptile
No broad sweeps, brushes perhaps, dust-trap hounds, little bits of Flow, that’s where it is, isn’t it, in the movement of Particles, the transfer of energy, making sure things don’t slip into the cracks, into the Ether, out of usable condition.
Lizards are good for that, but again, that’s what they enjoy doing.
There’s no bacon on the stove to sizzle, no eggs to pop in the fat left over from the bacon.
What more needs to be said, than what has already been said, and that which is going to be said? Far more and, as it seems, to me, far less. Nothing deep about that, I wish everyone to have the chance to say something they immediately want to take back, that’s power, seeing the change of someone’s face at the power of Your words. The repercussions are the price you pay for such a moment, turning the Reality of experience mailable for that moment, becoming a Shaper. Now I also wish no one to have to suffer from such an act, that they might not say anything that they don’t want to voice, but, well, somethings need to be said.
Sale, aisle three, muskrats, no, those arn’t muskrats.
Transportation of spirit, that shiver that moves up one side of your spine and just as you thought it gone, shoots down the other, leaving you somewhere else for the briefest of seconds, a flash in the mind’s-eye, soaring over a valley with a lake so clear that the sky checks itself in it.
I’d like to think I’m creating something here, a map perhaps, to link one place in my mind with another. I’d like to think that it’s working. I’d like to think that the small ache behind my right temple is me forging a bridge over a troubled waterway. And in liking to think, I find myself liking to think.
So, with all that introduction out of the way, where shall I start?
I went to sleep last night and woke up feeling wonderful, the one-eighty of the night before that. I have a few people to thank for that. I’ve put myself into a bit of quiet chaos the past few weeks, away from the structure of a schedule, and now it seems to giving a dividend that made it worth it. It wasn’t worth it in the interim, more than one of those days wholly sucked. Things are good, getting better, it seems. I wait for calls to let me work, being at the mercy of the phone is not new, was how I ran most of my massage business, but the difference is that I don’t have a group of folks to just pull in and practice on teaching English. So I want more work, to get more practice, to feel better about it, I have an urge for experience.
This is a good start to the day. I sometimes don’t think I have anything to ramble about, but it often seems that I have more than my share to things to talk about, even if at length they don’t make a great deal of sense.
So, let’s see just how many days I can update this, mornings if I’m not teaching, or if I’m up early enough, then too.
May the day hold an insight, and you be still dreaming enough to see it.
K.
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