Oh God, it hurts to move even a finger, but a man gotta do. That's why I went ahead and played the major and minor scales on my digital keyboard. If it hurts to do the everyday banal stuff like wiping my ass, then I might as well receive the joy of paying the scales even if it hurts.
I spent more money than i should have on booze yesterday. I bought about a gallon of burgundy to restock my supply while I was at the grocery store, and then went to the liquor store to buy some vodka for mouthwash. I didn't buy the vodka, but instead bought a liter of pomegranate liqueur for $25. It doesn't have much booze in it,17%, but pomegranates and I go back a long way to when I was twelve years old. We lived at 205 Park Avenue for a while and there were some pomegranate trees/bushes planted along the driveway between where we lived and the landlord, a Mister Britt, lived. It was Mister Britt who introduced me to the joys of pomegranates. RIP
It was a few weeks ago I found out the State liquor store carried this odd liqueur. One of the guys who work there asked me if I'd ever tried it. I told him I hadn't, but mentioned my experience with Mister Britt, and decided to buy a mini bottle of it. The result was that when I went back yesterday I bought the large bottle. Not only does pomegranates have a history with me, but the liqueur is very tasty, and I don't have to deal with all those seeds.
Ben brought me that article from the newspaper about Vitamin D yesterday. The article was in a question and answer form. The question was from some old guy like me who also suffers the trials and tribulations of arthritis. He stated that his personal doctor had recommended that he take 50,000 IUs of Vitamin D twice a week. It seemed excessive, so he wanted to know what the author thought about taking that much Vitamin D.
That much Vitamin D startled me too. I have been reading up on this, mostly through the articles posted on the web by the American Cancer Society. They suggested 40,000 IUs was an overdose, so the 50,000 IUs seemed excessive. That's why I was surprised to read the author say he took that much himself. This guy and his wife have a show on PBS called The People's Pharmacy, so I figured he had probably did his homework before he tried it.
Yesterday, after I read the article, and under the encouragement from Ben, I took about 35,000 IUs before I went to bed to see what sort of reaction I might get. Nothing much. I woke up early in considerable pain, but it was the same pain in my joints I've been suffering from for a good while now. I've already taken 10,000 IUs this morning, and plan on taking another 40,000 IUs before I go to bed tonight.
My Aquarian friend Ben has a habit of memorizing famous quotes and stale jokes. '-) What Aquarian doesn't? It fascinates me a little then, that I've started associating the state-of-being I go to in order to read palms, with this saying I learned from Ben. God know who he learned it from. It goes, "I don't have to know where I am to be there."
If you've read my journal for any length of time, you can't not be aware that i write to find out what's going on in that off-the-wall world I access when I read palms or read... anything. It presents me with a time-honored dilemma. I can't know what I'm doing for that to happen. I am totally unconscious of the world from which I speak. I have no perception of it. I don't have the slightest IDEA of what I'm referencing, and yet, at times, people start going wild-eyed and asking me how I know what I told them. I don't. Sounds crazy, doesn't it?
I had to practice doing this and risk being thought of and treated like a nincompoop and a deluded fool. Less enticingly, I had to come up with the courage to do it again and again after having my efforts received in this derogatory manner for years and years. I actually didn't know what I was actively doing other than satisfying an alien urge, and it stayed an alien urge until I finally figured out that urge was the real me. I acted like what forced me to follow through on my suspicions about what IS real, was something else than what I'd been led to believe I am was.
Yesterday, I wrote about when I "saw" that field of crystals. It only happened once, as many of these odd experiences do. The fact that once was all I really needed just to gnow that it was there. Gnosis. I definitely wanted (I lusted with all my heart) to experience "being" in that revered field of crystals again. I wanted to build a home there and settle down, and spend eternity experiencing each and every crystal, but that wasn't the point, and still isn't. All I needed was the subjective proof it was there for me, and that it contains all I could possibly need to comprehend wot's sot before me in real time.
I don't have to possess consciousness within that field of crystals each time I reference it. I don't have to know where I am to be there. Nobody does. You gnow what I mean. I just have to know some part of me is there. The dilemma is that I can only tell I'm in the flow by the feedback I get from what I say to the person whose palm I'm reading. It takes two bowls. Something inside them knows when they oughta be listening to what I don't know I'm saying, and their eyes show it whether they comprehend it's immediate importance to them or not.
It's all I got, but it's all I need. I been around a while. Occasionally, I know when enough is enow, but it's necessarily dark and quiet in the cave. I can't sensorially perceive anything I describe to the other upon my visit there. My senses are and must be ignored from within. I describe what I envision there to the chosen one sitting outside the cave, who thereby receives what I call out from the depths, for their own edification. It's just a trick of the shame man (shaman) that survived the bejinning.
I bought a fifty pound (22.67 kg) bag of fertilizer a week or so ago to use on the plants around my house. I don't hae a clue about how much to put out to what kind of plant. It sort of insults me that the plants would need this additional stuff. It's like having to buy a virus checker in addition to buying Windows. Granted, it's not their fault I live on sandy land that used to be covered by the ocean. I live fifty miles (80.5 km) as the crow flies inland from the Atlantic Ocean, on the swampy coastal plains, and it's only about 100 feet (30.5 M) above sea level. That's why I don't concern myself with global warming. The ocean used to be at least 100 feet higher than it is now, and people were alive then.
When we pearls finally got around to making homo sapiens, we felt like we had really done something. We made ourselves into everything else, and then some, before we came up with what it took to produce a conscious being. The amazing part is how fast things went when we finally created a one-cell self-sustaining entity. After that, it was a cakewalk.
This is what the database that got installed or pre-existed my remembering vision is composed of. The living memory of everything I had ever made myself into since I came to Earth as a pearl-like, radiant point of integrity, with volition. There was already a bunch of pearls here when I got here. I don't know anything about them. My remembering vision was of just me.
As far as the other pearls were concerned, the strongest thing that happened between us was that we imitated each other in the process of making ourselves into the various and sundry entities that now and then populate the Earth. It's what we do. The most intriguing aspect of us pearls imitating each other when we made ourselves into the things of the earth was that since we existed in a persistent state of mimicry we appeared to be a lot alike in the various phases of be-co-me-ing.
Another aspect of planet-building us pearls seem to share is that once we make ourselves into something, it's like we stick around trying to refine it so that it will perform the tasks we want it to without the conscious awareness of what that goal is. Probably based on the contemporary premise that we'll know what we're after when we see it. That's why we make so many things to perceive, and you'll notice, dear reader, that we weren't satisfied with just "seeing" with our creations either. We had to make them not only have eyes to see with, but with ears to hear. There seems to still be some controversy as to whether all the entities we created, and eventually abandoned, actually have the ears to hear certain things.
Maybe what we pearls are doing here is trying to make something that will become immortal. Obviously, it's not working, but I'm beginning to suspect that's what we're doing here, and other places too. Anywhere we can. It's just something to do. A diversion, a trite nothingness that makes eternity seem like it is something.
There I go again. Trying to make ti-me (the-tie-to-me) into something immortal. It's very much like a computer program that just goes on and on like a one-trick pony. Is it truly possible that us pearls have a one-track mind. We only "do" one thing. We go around trying to make something immortal pretty much the same way a scientist tries to win a Nobel Prize? Have you read of the literal bragging contests our kinsmen used to have? Is Earth merely a bragging contest for docetic entities who are filled to the brim with boredom and ennui? Is "life" just their way of playing patty cake?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pat-a-cake,_pat-a-cake,_baker's_man
I disclaim knowing the truth about anything. I make this crap up to amuse myself by exploring how far I can take the ridiculous past the sublime. I disclaim what you make of it to suit yourself. Why would I not?
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
