Discombobulation Over Uttering

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We have liftoff! All the wheatgrass we planted is now getting mature enough to put in the juicer. It's working out that if I use the scissors and snip the top blades of the wheatgrass of half a tray it's about the amount I need for one serving. I don't really know what I'm aiming for here. I figure to let the diet teach me what I need.

The original idea was to explore juicing wheatgrass. My sister-in-law got me cranked up about it. I was thinking real seriously about what the low carb diet I was on for the last couple of years was doing to me. I'm pretty sure it brought on the health crisis that preceded the diagnosis of rheumatoid arthritis, but I was under a lotta stress at that time too.

I was married to this woman with whom I had two kids. When the kids were 3 and 5 years old this woman took them to California and divorced me because my part of the marriage was done. Men are expendable. This development was not to my liking. For one thing it proved how helpless I am to make life into what somebody else thinks it oughta be.

The reason I was under such stress was that my oldest daughter of my second marriage invited me and the members of my natal family to her second wedding. I hadn't laid my eyes on any of them for twenty-seven years. I was about to be shown that whatever control over my life I might have fooled myself into thinking I'd salvaged was not true.

Usually I can hide behind my extreme poverty to get outta doing anything I don't really wanna do. My miserliness is not only my savior, but my nemesis to boot. I didn't want to go to that wedding. I did not want to ever see those people again. We hadn't seen each other for nearly three decades. Why rattle the cage doors I'd built to live behind?

My youngest brother had no intention of letting me get out of confronting these women. The woman is sixty years old. Her daughters are both in their thirties now. He told me that he and his wife were going to the wedding. He would make all the logistical arrangements, and loan me the money to go if I was short on cash. When he put it that way my argument folded. Maybe it would bring some closure. I did want to see what they grew up to look like.

Seeing them again did change how I thought about them all. I think I got played. It doesn't surprise me much. Trying to find out how charismatics can so easily use me and abuse me has literally been my lifelong quest. They want me to think I'm human like they are, but I know I'm not.

I used to think I was a human being, and maybe I really was for a while. It's that Pinocchio metaphor that gets me every time. It's greed pure and simple. I'm a docetic creature who wants to be a real little boy instead of a puppet. That's what having visions will do to a docetic. It makes them have foolish dreams of becoming the image of themselves they invented. I-am-is... is not my body... it is me.

I never read Thomas Wolfe's book entitled You Can't Go Home Again:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/You_Can't_Go_Home_Again

Why would I bother? The title sez it all. What need? I use the line of that title to goof on at times. Most recently I have discovered again that I can't go home again because I can't dismiss the remembering vision I had forty years ago. If you've read my blog enough it's easy to see I'm obsessed with it.

I didn't realize my remembering vision is what I was obsessed about. I didn't realize until the last few years that's why I suddenly started studying the occult from one end of it to the other. I kinda did know it was at the root of me jumping off that cliff in Yosemite. Well, after the fact I did.

I wrote in an e-mail post today that I had used the I Ching as a way to ask myself ten thousand questions. I'm the only one who knows whether that true or not. To me it's simple even if I do it by the numbers. I used the Wilhelm/Baynes translation of the Emperor's Yellow Book multiple times each day for over thirty years.

It wasn't unusual for me to form a question, write it down properly, toss the coins to obtain a Hexagram, study it intently as if I would truly find the answer to my written question for a while, then ask another question implying doubt that my first question wasn't answered. I learned over time that was a mistake. I might perform this ritual ten times or more a day. Eventually I was told in a dream to stop doing that. I did.

I have an obsessive personality. I oughta know. I created it by adopting existing rules of conscience. Not consciousness, but conscience. I adopted those rules of conscience to remind me to do what it took or takes to imitate the behavior of some other or others who appeared to get what I wanted by acting the way the did. I didn't know I was doing that until recently either.

To be-co-me what other people represent to me I had to abandon I meant to myself first. Not just once either, but each and every time I wanted to become someone else via mimicry I had to devalue what I had previously taught myself to hold in high esteem. Nice work if you can get it.

Especially when I realized that I couldn't save those others I followed. I found out I wasn't responsible for their behavior and the results it brought them. Their results were not the results I wanted or got. I thought they were getting the results I wanted for myself by acting the way I thought they did, only they didn't agree with me. No blame.

Nothingness has been on my mind lately. It's a perfect match.

"Nothing still ain't nothing, but it's free."

~ Kris Kristofferson, from Me and Bobbi Magee

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