As I sit here typing my house is vibrating from the bulldozers working on the new airport runway the city/county government stole from my family. It was just the latest intrusion into what used to look a little like a national park. My father's pride and joy. On some other land to the northeast of my house are other bulldozers working on some private project the members of the airport authority privately own, as I understand it. Eminent domain, then privatization?
A person needs strong ideals taught to them when they are children. Strong enough hopefully for a lifetime. Strong enough to overcome the actual reality of the world. Your money or your life. Even for the people who administer the universality of it's truth. Your money or your life. The government will even help you get some money so they can take it away from you again with interest.
That's the hell of aging. It's how you're helped to die by your supposed saviors so they can pick your bones clean. I've written about how the County water department is ripping me off. A couple of days ago my brother sent me a link to an article where a 99 year old women was being taken to the cleaners by the DC water department. Apparently, it's an old government trick to rob retirees. They slowly steal them blind so they can dump them into death houses, where they can use you to drain your family dry.
I wrote yesterday about a heat stroke I had in my early teens that made more vulnerable to heat strokes, but being vulnerable also made me cautious to some extreme about how to survive in hot weather. I described the symptoms of the onset of what could lead to a heat stroke as being like having a wide headband around my skull such that I can easily locate the parameters of brain inside the skull. There is the ol' familiar refrains of the music of the spheres that grows in intensity as I get tired toward the end of the day.
When I woefully claim that "they're coming to get me, and haul me away", these days, I literally mean they're gonna take the house and property I live on away from me by eminent domain and bring in the heavy equipment and transform my borrowed property to borrowed time. My entire life has been seriously involved with the institutions I sought to escape from. I've known this a long time. It's the "why" I've tried to escape when it's obviously impossible for even the most vaingloriously of us is a mystery that has embraced me, indeed, swallowed me up.
It first truly appeared to me as a golden amorphous blob of moving light at the foot of my bed on the other side of town in the re-worked house on my father's first farm. I know exactly how it was turned into a crumbling tenant shack into a home for a family of seven on wit, grit, and my father's modest teacher's salary.
I remember this scenario as happening to me while I was alone, but that would probably have been impossible considering how the rooms and sleeping arrangements were laid out at the time. I was in a regular size double bed, and my two younger brothers slept in bunk beds one over the other in the corner of the room to the left of my head. My younger brother is four and a half years younger than me, and my youngest brother is eight years younger than me. They were dead to the world, as children are, when this golden blob appeared at the foot of my bed.
It was a "don't ask, don't tell" situation. I dove under the covers from sleep, and then peeked out, and there it was. I didn't ask it anything. I was struck dumb with terror. I pulled the covers back over my head. "It", the yellowish gold thang, didn't have a constant enough shape for me to make it into anything in particular to be afraid of. I think I was scared of watching myself become afraid without option, and that's the part of it that terrified me.
My head was under the quilt covers that had been in my parents families for a long time. They smelled like moth balls. They were heavy. If it got cold enough that you needed several of them to stave of the cold, the weight of them could give me night mares that I was getting crushed. Some of them were real scratchy because the cloth they were pieced together from come from flour sacks or even commercial chicken feed sacks.
You might think as a child or young teen that quilts this tough would even keep out ghosts or spirits that glowed in the dark. You'd be wrong about that in my opinion. My families ancient hand-me-down quilts were no match for the golden blob to stretch itself out flat above me, and then lowered itself over and around me and consumed me like I was a speck of food being eaten by an amoeba.
This was another case in which terror of the most extreme kind paralyzed me, and held me in it's grip until I embraced it without reserve. I used to say I understand this sort of being terrified, but more completely now that it's happened consciously more than once. What's particular or peculiar about this experience is that I can only keen that it's "terror" after the fact.
Before this golden glob/blob settled down over me and enveloped me within itself I was a typical teenaged kid with all the angst and nervous energy a young person of this age usually has, but after this goldenness enveloped me inside of itself, all that fear and nervousness dropped away, and I consciously and individually experienced total ecstasy for the second time in my young life. In this state of being that appeared to co-me from an external source
My situation went from being aware of my absolute terror at the very appearance of this "thing" in itself, and my relationship with it changed from complete terror to complete ecstasy in one fell swoop. Sometime I think I've spent the rest of my life attempting to cause that situation to repeat itself. I don't expect much now. Recently I've realized that most of the really profound experiences I've had with spirit only happen once and no mas. In other words, it's not up to me, but I don't feel like a victim.
I've been contemplating a weird thought that been on the back burner for a while. It concerns my personal study and use of astrology. Just two incidences that impress me. The zodiacal abode of the planet Saturn and the aspects it has with the other planets and signs and houses indicated that my biggest health problem would concern my skeletal structure, and I've been diagnosed with two different types of arthritis and osteoporoses in the last year.
Another configuration involving the Moon being in the Seventh House along with it's aspects indicate that I'd have all female children. i already had one female child with my first wife, and that was before I ever studied astrology. Then, after I started studying astrology and making lots of natal charts my second wife had two more female children.
I wonder what would have happened if I never studied astrology, but I have mastered other systems, and they could have and probably did affect the way life has gone for me as easily and/or just as well, if you can fancy that?
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.
