Wednesday, March 18, 2015


No Internet? No problem! Actually, it is a problem. It's a problem because I want to communicate with you without seeing you. But I also want to see you. I want and need to see people in whatever this is we call "real life." For now, however, it is far more convenient to reach out via online sources. And how can I do this without the ability to be online? No man or woman or dog with a blog will ever be able to answer this question.

So I am writing/typing (there is a difference -- you choose which one I'm doing) this on March 18, 2050. Jay Kay! Our planet will be gone by 2050. It's just 2015. "Just." 2015: NBD. It is a Wednesday morning and I am waiting for water to boil so I can not drink some tea. I am boiling water as a sort of holy ritual, I suppose. I will want to drink the tea immediately upon it's required 3-5 minute steeping because I'm greedy like that. Impatient. Desirous. But I won't. I will use my rapidly disappearing will power to not drink all of the tea because in one hour I must get more iron infused into these prominent veins of mine. This means that I will be sitting. For over an hour. With no chance to pee out the tea. "Doc! Bring a bedpan! Stat!" I don't want to yell that. So, tea, you are a nice routine, but for this Wednesday morning in not-2050, I will indulge in only your heat.

Indulge! That is one thing I feel as if I have consistently been doing lately. Indulging in all sorts of abnormal behavior for me, namely eating. It is kinda dreary that indulgence for me is eating a small breakfast. Indulgence for me is eating a protein bar and, hell, even a banana in my warm car during my 10-minute break. With indulgence, however, comes the ever-persistent guilt. It hides in the shadows with patience, precision. It knows when to strike, when to step out and take over. I'm over it. That is not true. I want to be over it. I want to be over the what feels like inevitable guilt more than I want this hot tea in my mouth. I want to give myself over to good things, to the nourishment which has always been waiting for me. The nourishment doesn't wait in the shadows. It isn't chummy with guilt. It doesn't hate guilt by any means; it feels sympathy for it. Nourishment understands that guilt is just a misguided attempt at self-preservation. Nourishment knows what I need and it knows that I know what I need if only I'd listen more closely.

It is time for me to listen. It is time for me to stop destroying what I work to build up. Why build castles with blocks if I just kick them over out of fear that the castles are too grand, too beautiful? I deserve the grand, I deserve the beautiful. I have an intuition which has always served me well and will continue to serve me well so long as I don't keep it tucked away in the dark corners. I need to do some soul sweeping. Get those cobwebs out of there. Open some windows and get some sunshine in this place.

Well, half of the tea is now gone. I couldn't help myself. It was perfectly cinnamony today. I gave in to this little piece of sunshine in a mug. The sun is cinnamon. The moon is whole. I bow down to both.

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