❧
"It's a mad, mad, mad, mad world. '-) The news from the mideast is astounding. Frankly, before all this rioting I had no clue these disposed leaders had been running these countries as dictatorships to the degree that has been revealed. The term "tribal" came up a lot.
Why these Arabs hate the Jews so much has always been a mystery to me. Apparently it comes down to tribalism. Not just the Jews and the Arabs, but all the Old World seems to base most of the wars they have there as tribal wars. I don't think the tribal life can last much longer, but whatta I know?
I must have gone back to insanity. I bought some KY Jelly and made silver colloids in it in the same way as I do with distilled water. It turned black. I smeared it on the sore spots on my hands to see if it was kill me. It hasn't yet, but I gotta feeling it's not going to get me the same results I got with Silverdene. For one thing, its not painful like Silverdene is.
It's not been a bad day. I just don't remember what I got up for. I'm drinking cheap burgundy, as usual, and kicking it off with an occasional swig of coconut flavored vodka. I haven't been drunk for years, but I may get there tonight.
❦
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.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
A Pearl Of Great Price
❧
It's a fact that I haven't been sleeping well lately. I think a lot of it has to do with exercising by walking a few miles with my youngest brother at night and getting myself so physically energized just before I go to bed. But, my brother has a family to attend to, and a business to run, presently he's the president of the local Rotary Club, and late at night is the only time he seems to have to do it. Walking with my brother is much more challenging than doing it alone as I have been. It's fueled by sibling rivalry for both of us, so I gratefully live with it.
Last night I stayed up to watch SNL. It was another rerun, and designed to appeal to a much younger crowd. I wasn't all that young when the show got started, and my watching it anymore is merely a habit, and my like of satellite or cable TV to provide other options.
The saying below is from the Gospel of Thomas. Surprisingly, the slack moderator of the group I subscribe to sent out the saying with several translations provided by a different group than before she took over by force, so I don't know the source. I just picked one and started writing about four in the morning. When I finished, I edited it a little bit, and hit the Send button. I got up around ten this morning and read what I'd written, for all practical purposes while I was half asleep and very tired. Jesus was speaking to his followers.
[GoT]
(76) Jesus said, "The kingdom of the father is like a merchant who had a consignment of merchandise and who discovered a pearl. That merchant was shrewd. He sold the merchandise and bought the pearl alone for himself. You too, seek his unfailing and enduring treasure where no moth comes near to devour and no worm destroys."
[My comments]
I discovered what I've been calling a pearl since 1970. Long before personal computers and anything like the internet came along. I thought that eventually I would meet some people who had found the same thing. I knew all along it wasn't something specific to me. There were other events that happened to me in the same manner I discovered the pearl, previous to the vision in which I realized that the pearl was me.
Nobody much believed me. I didn't realize how people would react to me telling what happened. Socially, it would have been better socially if I had been more discreet. What I didn't realize so much was that other people, in general, hadn't read about stuff like this happening to regular people. I did not grasp for a long time that I did much more reading than your average bear, and was therefore more familiar with what other people did from the many, many stories I read and kenned.
People shied away from me because they didn't comprehend how deeply life can be understood if they were brave enough to give up everything most people do understand, for topics that appeared, for the most part, well beyond their reach or interest. Some were flattered that I thought they could open themselves to something different than what their caretakers felt was socially correct.
The truth was that I didn't think they were exceptional as much as I thought everybody could and should break away to seek their own path with heart. This made them feel special around me, but not when they talked with others. When they acted the way they decided for themselves in front of their friends and acquaintances, their acquaintances questioned their judgment and asked them where they learned to act and think that way. When they found out it was from me, they were frequently warned to stay away from people like me because I was "not right". They figured they would be crazy to challenge the beliefs of their friends and family, and so I was crazy for doing that too. No blame.
People still protect people from me and my kind. They tell them something is wrong with me, and that they should stay away from people like me. Nothing has changed over the years. I used to get lonely because I couldn't return to some conventional way of regarding the world. A world I'd never really been a conventional part of since puberty.
I had to believe in myself and my own vision. If I didn't believe in my visions, I couldn't go on discovering my true being. For many, that really wasn't possible. That seems to be my only choice. I could kill myself for not fitting in or just keep on keeping on. I had a problem killing myself. I don't see anything wrong with it. It just didn't work out. Something would happen to stop me from doing it even though I tried several times in different ways. Each time murdering myself didn't work, I blamed myself by thinking I hadn't really tried.
I try not to encourage people to seek for their own pearl anymore. I don't know what it takes for others to reach beyond what they've had to be to survive. I don't know what I did to get the visions I received, but whatever it was, it ain't always been pretty. It terrifies them to imagine giving up the identity that was provided for them as children.
There really is no blame for being afraid. When they tried to beat the odds (and most have at some point in their lives), they often became much afraid. They shut down and desperately reached with all their might to be the kind of person they were taught to be. Then, to compensate for showing interest, loudly denounced me, and claimed I'd hurt them and acted irresponsibly by letting them imitate me. Nobody's perfect. '-)
❦
It's a fact that I haven't been sleeping well lately. I think a lot of it has to do with exercising by walking a few miles with my youngest brother at night and getting myself so physically energized just before I go to bed. But, my brother has a family to attend to, and a business to run, presently he's the president of the local Rotary Club, and late at night is the only time he seems to have to do it. Walking with my brother is much more challenging than doing it alone as I have been. It's fueled by sibling rivalry for both of us, so I gratefully live with it.
Last night I stayed up to watch SNL. It was another rerun, and designed to appeal to a much younger crowd. I wasn't all that young when the show got started, and my watching it anymore is merely a habit, and my like of satellite or cable TV to provide other options.
The saying below is from the Gospel of Thomas. Surprisingly, the slack moderator of the group I subscribe to sent out the saying with several translations provided by a different group than before she took over by force, so I don't know the source. I just picked one and started writing about four in the morning. When I finished, I edited it a little bit, and hit the Send button. I got up around ten this morning and read what I'd written, for all practical purposes while I was half asleep and very tired. Jesus was speaking to his followers.
[GoT]
(76) Jesus said, "The kingdom of the father is like a merchant who had a consignment of merchandise and who discovered a pearl. That merchant was shrewd. He sold the merchandise and bought the pearl alone for himself. You too, seek his unfailing and enduring treasure where no moth comes near to devour and no worm destroys."
[My comments]
I discovered what I've been calling a pearl since 1970. Long before personal computers and anything like the internet came along. I thought that eventually I would meet some people who had found the same thing. I knew all along it wasn't something specific to me. There were other events that happened to me in the same manner I discovered the pearl, previous to the vision in which I realized that the pearl was me.
Nobody much believed me. I didn't realize how people would react to me telling what happened. Socially, it would have been better socially if I had been more discreet. What I didn't realize so much was that other people, in general, hadn't read about stuff like this happening to regular people. I did not grasp for a long time that I did much more reading than your average bear, and was therefore more familiar with what other people did from the many, many stories I read and kenned.
People shied away from me because they didn't comprehend how deeply life can be understood if they were brave enough to give up everything most people do understand, for topics that appeared, for the most part, well beyond their reach or interest. Some were flattered that I thought they could open themselves to something different than what their caretakers felt was socially correct.
The truth was that I didn't think they were exceptional as much as I thought everybody could and should break away to seek their own path with heart. This made them feel special around me, but not when they talked with others. When they acted the way they decided for themselves in front of their friends and acquaintances, their acquaintances questioned their judgment and asked them where they learned to act and think that way. When they found out it was from me, they were frequently warned to stay away from people like me because I was "not right". They figured they would be crazy to challenge the beliefs of their friends and family, and so I was crazy for doing that too. No blame.
People still protect people from me and my kind. They tell them something is wrong with me, and that they should stay away from people like me. Nothing has changed over the years. I used to get lonely because I couldn't return to some conventional way of regarding the world. A world I'd never really been a conventional part of since puberty.
I had to believe in myself and my own vision. If I didn't believe in my visions, I couldn't go on discovering my true being. For many, that really wasn't possible. That seems to be my only choice. I could kill myself for not fitting in or just keep on keeping on. I had a problem killing myself. I don't see anything wrong with it. It just didn't work out. Something would happen to stop me from doing it even though I tried several times in different ways. Each time murdering myself didn't work, I blamed myself by thinking I hadn't really tried.
I try not to encourage people to seek for their own pearl anymore. I don't know what it takes for others to reach beyond what they've had to be to survive. I don't know what I did to get the visions I received, but whatever it was, it ain't always been pretty. It terrifies them to imagine giving up the identity that was provided for them as children.
There really is no blame for being afraid. When they tried to beat the odds (and most have at some point in their lives), they often became much afraid. They shut down and desperately reached with all their might to be the kind of person they were taught to be. Then, to compensate for showing interest, loudly denounced me, and claimed I'd hurt them and acted irresponsibly by letting them imitate me. Nobody's perfect. '-)
❦
Saturday, February 19, 2011
My Assurance Cell Phone Now Works
❧
Eating crow is by definition not any fun at all. I guess I have to do that in relation to my rant about my new cell phone. I couldn't get it to work, and so I wrote some negative stuff about their intentions. Today I got a phone call on my regular house phone from them, and after going through the "Press One/Press Two" dealio, I talked to a nice lady from India who spoke excellent English compared to the previous agents.
After having to go through the process several times (because the battery on my phone was low and it kept rebooting itself), she talked me through the initiating process. We finally set things right, and it seems to work now.
This is the first cell phone or mobile phone I've ever had. The reasoning has nothing to do with not accepting new technology, I've got a phobia about using telephones of any sort. There is a learning curve I'll have to endure to get the idea of using cell phones down pat. For one thing, I'll have to learn about keeping the battery charged so it will do right when I try to use it.
Having a phone with me when I leave the house will surely be a completely different experience than I'm used to ere now. I plan to eventually get a smartphone that has GSP and internet capabilities, but this phone will do to get me over the hump with the mobility it offers.
It's another fairly warm day. Not as warm as yesterday when the temperature got up almost to 80° (2.667° C), but warm enough for me to lay out in the sun practically naked for an hour or so. That was nice.
The world seems to have gone crazy. Maybe it's the Sun flares. Who knows. Riots for all kinds of reasons, and I suspect it's gonna get worse. The six o'clock news reports about all the individual states declaring they are broke and have to lay off a bunch of teachers and state workers by the thousands.
They must be heart-broken. The security of a government job is why a lot of them aimed for the jobs they going to have to leave. There is a lot of hard feelings toward the politicians who seem to care less as long as they get their check. A check many of them don't need because they were already rich.
I was really surprised the last time I checked the program that keeps up with how many visitors I get on the site. In the last 3-4 months the subscriptions has quadrupled. Thanks!
❦
Eating crow is by definition not any fun at all. I guess I have to do that in relation to my rant about my new cell phone. I couldn't get it to work, and so I wrote some negative stuff about their intentions. Today I got a phone call on my regular house phone from them, and after going through the "Press One/Press Two" dealio, I talked to a nice lady from India who spoke excellent English compared to the previous agents.
After having to go through the process several times (because the battery on my phone was low and it kept rebooting itself), she talked me through the initiating process. We finally set things right, and it seems to work now.
This is the first cell phone or mobile phone I've ever had. The reasoning has nothing to do with not accepting new technology, I've got a phobia about using telephones of any sort. There is a learning curve I'll have to endure to get the idea of using cell phones down pat. For one thing, I'll have to learn about keeping the battery charged so it will do right when I try to use it.
Having a phone with me when I leave the house will surely be a completely different experience than I'm used to ere now. I plan to eventually get a smartphone that has GSP and internet capabilities, but this phone will do to get me over the hump with the mobility it offers.
It's another fairly warm day. Not as warm as yesterday when the temperature got up almost to 80° (2.667° C), but warm enough for me to lay out in the sun practically naked for an hour or so. That was nice.
The world seems to have gone crazy. Maybe it's the Sun flares. Who knows. Riots for all kinds of reasons, and I suspect it's gonna get worse. The six o'clock news reports about all the individual states declaring they are broke and have to lay off a bunch of teachers and state workers by the thousands.
They must be heart-broken. The security of a government job is why a lot of them aimed for the jobs they going to have to leave. There is a lot of hard feelings toward the politicians who seem to care less as long as they get their check. A check many of them don't need because they were already rich.
I was really surprised the last time I checked the program that keeps up with how many visitors I get on the site. In the last 3-4 months the subscriptions has quadrupled. Thanks!
❦
Friday, February 18, 2011
Why Am I Always The Last To Know?
❧
The old mattress pad on my bed finally give up the ghost when the foam it was made of ripped when I attempted to straighten it as I changed the sheets. I bought an expensive new one made of memory foam. I had a choice of two thicknesses. One was maybe two and a half inches (6.35 cm), which I bought, and four inches (10.16 cm), which I probably should hae bought.
Previous to my buying this mattress topper I had bought a pillow made of memory foam, and I was really impressed how it lived up to it's hype. That's why I bought the mattress pad of memory foam. After I had used it a few delightful nights I realized that the mattress pad raised the height of my mattress overall, and it compromised the changes I induced six months ago, I gotta change that for reasons I finally understand better.
The changes I made half a year ago were very primitive. If I lived with a woman they might not have been possible without spending a lotta money. The problem I remedied (my plan worked) was that the covers on my bed weighted too heavily on my toes, and they only got relief when I slept on my side or belly.
At the foot of my used bed (my oldest daughter's former in-laws bed that was replaced by a new bed their children bought them [such will never happen to me]), I cut a 3/4" piece of chip-wood board that set across the sideboards and it was designed to raise the covers of the bed higher than my toes when laying on my back.
Doing that meant that I had to put the covers at the foot of the bed over the top of the chip-wood board, and that meant I had to have a way to keep those covers in place without them falling down around my feet. This is the part where my project really looks crappy.
To keep the covers atop the chipboard I cut a two by four to the width of the bed and clamped the covers to the chip-wood with the two by four with wood clamps. It works, but I gotta come up with a better design. The wood clamps stick out about a foot or more and are easy to run into or get poked with.
The problem the new mattress pad introduced was that it caused my toes to be two and a half inches higher. The primary solution I have for this is to raise the chip-wood board the same amount, and then bolt it to the bedstead with wood screws. That will take care of the height of the covers above my toes and feet, but it doesn't get rid of the wood clamps that keep the two by four tight against the covers to hold them in place.
There is a better way to do this, but I'd have to buy longer bed covers. all that's needed is a sturdy piece of aluminum that would fit in between the mattress and innersprings with a 90 degree turn upward high enough to lift the bed covers up in the same manner my jury-rigged dealio does.
There is a huge reason for this. I didn't actually understand until I woke up early this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. I may not have psoriasis at all on my feet. The sores on my toes, especially on my second toe next to my big toe, might simply be fabric burns instead of psoriasis. Like the rug burns obtained by having sex on the floor. Literally that.
My second toes are longer than my big toes. On top, they stick up higher than the top of my big toes. When I toss and turn at night they get rubbed by the bed covers. Different fabric. Same result. I sorta realized I hadn't allowed for this buying shoes. So, instead of buying size 12 shoes, I bought size 13.
I went through all this early this morning in a semi-dream state to realize consciously for the first time why the sores on the top of my second and big toes did not react all bubbly to the hydrogen peroxide, and did to the prescription medicine Silverdene. The Silverdene is used mostly for burns.
The outlook for my general health might be a little better now. I got the flu shot yesterday. The silver colloids I'm using internally and externally seems to be doing some good also. The sores I had on my hands are all about dried up and seem to be disappearing altogether. I'm pretty sure I still haven't achieved immortality. I'm still gonna get sick of something and quite definitely croak eventually.
Yesterday seem to be a day for finding even more examples of how stress causes a lot of illnesses. A TV program about how the stress new mothers go through is probably the worst stress they will experience for the rest of their lives. Men get bald because of stress. I'm not sure I really know how I can consciously detect the stress my body is experiencing, but I'm figuring I damned sure better find out... and take steps!
The withdrawal of the redness and sores on my hands in approximately two days seems a little miraculous, but not all that unusual. All I've ever wanted or prayed/preyed for is understanding, and if and when it arrives; shit happens, and thangs change. '-)
❦
The old mattress pad on my bed finally give up the ghost when the foam it was made of ripped when I attempted to straighten it as I changed the sheets. I bought an expensive new one made of memory foam. I had a choice of two thicknesses. One was maybe two and a half inches (6.35 cm), which I bought, and four inches (10.16 cm), which I probably should hae bought.
Previous to my buying this mattress topper I had bought a pillow made of memory foam, and I was really impressed how it lived up to it's hype. That's why I bought the mattress pad of memory foam. After I had used it a few delightful nights I realized that the mattress pad raised the height of my mattress overall, and it compromised the changes I induced six months ago, I gotta change that for reasons I finally understand better.
The changes I made half a year ago were very primitive. If I lived with a woman they might not have been possible without spending a lotta money. The problem I remedied (my plan worked) was that the covers on my bed weighted too heavily on my toes, and they only got relief when I slept on my side or belly.
At the foot of my used bed (my oldest daughter's former in-laws bed that was replaced by a new bed their children bought them [such will never happen to me]), I cut a 3/4" piece of chip-wood board that set across the sideboards and it was designed to raise the covers of the bed higher than my toes when laying on my back.
Doing that meant that I had to put the covers at the foot of the bed over the top of the chip-wood board, and that meant I had to have a way to keep those covers in place without them falling down around my feet. This is the part where my project really looks crappy.
To keep the covers atop the chipboard I cut a two by four to the width of the bed and clamped the covers to the chip-wood with the two by four with wood clamps. It works, but I gotta come up with a better design. The wood clamps stick out about a foot or more and are easy to run into or get poked with.
The problem the new mattress pad introduced was that it caused my toes to be two and a half inches higher. The primary solution I have for this is to raise the chip-wood board the same amount, and then bolt it to the bedstead with wood screws. That will take care of the height of the covers above my toes and feet, but it doesn't get rid of the wood clamps that keep the two by four tight against the covers to hold them in place.
There is a better way to do this, but I'd have to buy longer bed covers. all that's needed is a sturdy piece of aluminum that would fit in between the mattress and innersprings with a 90 degree turn upward high enough to lift the bed covers up in the same manner my jury-rigged dealio does.
There is a huge reason for this. I didn't actually understand until I woke up early this morning and couldn't go back to sleep. I may not have psoriasis at all on my feet. The sores on my toes, especially on my second toe next to my big toe, might simply be fabric burns instead of psoriasis. Like the rug burns obtained by having sex on the floor. Literally that.
My second toes are longer than my big toes. On top, they stick up higher than the top of my big toes. When I toss and turn at night they get rubbed by the bed covers. Different fabric. Same result. I sorta realized I hadn't allowed for this buying shoes. So, instead of buying size 12 shoes, I bought size 13.
I went through all this early this morning in a semi-dream state to realize consciously for the first time why the sores on the top of my second and big toes did not react all bubbly to the hydrogen peroxide, and did to the prescription medicine Silverdene. The Silverdene is used mostly for burns.
The outlook for my general health might be a little better now. I got the flu shot yesterday. The silver colloids I'm using internally and externally seems to be doing some good also. The sores I had on my hands are all about dried up and seem to be disappearing altogether. I'm pretty sure I still haven't achieved immortality. I'm still gonna get sick of something and quite definitely croak eventually.
Yesterday seem to be a day for finding even more examples of how stress causes a lot of illnesses. A TV program about how the stress new mothers go through is probably the worst stress they will experience for the rest of their lives. Men get bald because of stress. I'm not sure I really know how I can consciously detect the stress my body is experiencing, but I'm figuring I damned sure better find out... and take steps!
The withdrawal of the redness and sores on my hands in approximately two days seems a little miraculous, but not all that unusual. All I've ever wanted or prayed/preyed for is understanding, and if and when it arrives; shit happens, and thangs change. '-)
❦
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Baldness Is Caused By Stress?
❧
Slow, expensive day. I really needed some shoes I can use for walking with them hurting my feet. My Crocs are really comfortable for messing around not doing anything strenuous, but walking two or three miles, and now jogging part of it, is another matter altogether. I bought some I thought might get the job done, went walking and jogged a little bit, and they seem to be okay. Time will tell.
The articles I read today about the new cure for baldness was extremely interesting to me. What I understood the research to say is that baldness is caused by stress. That was today. Yesterday an MD told me that the psoriasis is caused by stress, and maybe even arthritis.
Oddly, one of the first images that came to mind was the Transcendental Meditation guy, Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, who had a beautiful head of hair. I just Googled him up and Wikipedia stated that he died in February of 2006 at the age of 94. I had no idea he was dead or that he lived that long. It might be interesting to find out if his bald adherents grew hair.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maharishi_Mahesh_Yogi
The temperature was in the mid-70s (20°-25° C) today. It's supposed to be as warm again tomorrow, but by the weekend it's dropping back down toward normal winter temperatures. Exciting... eh? I really don't have much to write about today. The news tonight was terrible. All the State budgets are going to hell and people are getting fired left and right.
Obama hasn't got us out of those stupid wars. I'm disappointed, but not surprised. He struts around like Mussolini, and he's a Leo. Apparently a conflicted Leo. Not good news for the country.
Yeah, I know. I did vote for him. I don't really regret it yet, but what worries me is realizing the U.S.Army runs the United States. The Commander-in-Chief is not in charge. This does not bode well for the home of the brave and the land of the free. This does not make me less tense. I have to get unstressed so that my hair will grow back. '-)
❦
Slow, expensive day. I really needed some shoes I can use for walking with them hurting my feet. My Crocs are really comfortable for messing around not doing anything strenuous, but walking two or three miles, and now jogging part of it, is another matter altogether. I bought some I thought might get the job done, went walking and jogged a little bit, and they seem to be okay. Time will tell.
The articles I read today about the new cure for baldness was extremely interesting to me. What I understood the research to say is that baldness is caused by stress. That was today. Yesterday an MD told me that the psoriasis is caused by stress, and maybe even arthritis.
Oddly, one of the first images that came to mind was the Transcendental Meditation guy, Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, who had a beautiful head of hair. I just Googled him up and Wikipedia stated that he died in February of 2006 at the age of 94. I had no idea he was dead or that he lived that long. It might be interesting to find out if his bald adherents grew hair.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maharishi_Mahesh_Yogi
The temperature was in the mid-70s (20°-25° C) today. It's supposed to be as warm again tomorrow, but by the weekend it's dropping back down toward normal winter temperatures. Exciting... eh? I really don't have much to write about today. The news tonight was terrible. All the State budgets are going to hell and people are getting fired left and right.
Obama hasn't got us out of those stupid wars. I'm disappointed, but not surprised. He struts around like Mussolini, and he's a Leo. Apparently a conflicted Leo. Not good news for the country.
Yeah, I know. I did vote for him. I don't really regret it yet, but what worries me is realizing the U.S.Army runs the United States. The Commander-in-Chief is not in charge. This does not bode well for the home of the brave and the land of the free. This does not make me less tense. I have to get unstressed so that my hair will grow back. '-)
❦
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Cognitive Dissonance And Dancing Music
❧
Yesterday I received a response to a post I sent out to addresses in my Address.app that I haven't exchanged e-mail with for a while. I sent a photo of myself with the beard I removed soon after, and announced that i wasn't dead yet. Every person I sent my greeting to replied. That's pretty good in my opinion. I've had lots of e-mail addresses that are not active anymore. The only one that's active now is the gmail one.
The response I received yesterday was from this MD in Europe who has a website that uses Dutch for it's language. I don't know what his nationality is. Some people speak Flemish. Some speak French. Some speak German. Practically all of them are literate in English. I only have English. I'm probably lucky to have that.
My correspondent came right out and said that psoriasis is a result of cognitive resonance and isn't a real disease at all. Just a way of trying to armor myself with the crusted pustules that explode from my fingers and toes in the same manner as volcanoes. Psoriasis is a psychological condition caused by stress. That's very disturbing. At least I can give up attempting to get treatment from the medicos.
The silver colloids I'm using to deal with the sores may be working like i want them to, but it's hard to tell. I have a sample spot I'm checking it out on. It's a spot on the calve of my leg that a friend informed me was concerous. Three different MDs have told me not to worry about it, but it's there, and I worry about it.
I spray the colloids on my hands and toes and that one spot on my calf. Just for the hell of it I spray it on a birthmark on my forearm that's been there forever. I drink a little of it about everyday too. The only real sign anything is going on is that it makes me burp pretty good.
I slept late this morning, went out to lunch, came back and crawled in the bed again. I guess I took a four hour nap. If the reason I have these medical problems is due to stress, then I need to get rid of the stress.
It's warm today, and supposed to be even warmer tomorrow. I'm sitting here with the outside door wide open in my underpants and a t-shirt, and I'm not uncomfortable. I intend to start taking my walks barefooted. I haven't got any comfortable shoes. Before I spend the money to get some I'm gonna try reverting back to my childhood.
The route my brother and I take for walking is mostly dirt. We walk for about a hundred yards on the paved road, but the most of it is a sandy two-lane farm road and the driveway to our houses. I don't know how long it will take for my feets to toughen up, but they have to feel better than wearing ill-fitting shoes. I love my Crocs, but they just ain't getting it as far as walking two or three miles.
❦
Yesterday I received a response to a post I sent out to addresses in my Address.app that I haven't exchanged e-mail with for a while. I sent a photo of myself with the beard I removed soon after, and announced that i wasn't dead yet. Every person I sent my greeting to replied. That's pretty good in my opinion. I've had lots of e-mail addresses that are not active anymore. The only one that's active now is the gmail one.
The response I received yesterday was from this MD in Europe who has a website that uses Dutch for it's language. I don't know what his nationality is. Some people speak Flemish. Some speak French. Some speak German. Practically all of them are literate in English. I only have English. I'm probably lucky to have that.
My correspondent came right out and said that psoriasis is a result of cognitive resonance and isn't a real disease at all. Just a way of trying to armor myself with the crusted pustules that explode from my fingers and toes in the same manner as volcanoes. Psoriasis is a psychological condition caused by stress. That's very disturbing. At least I can give up attempting to get treatment from the medicos.
The silver colloids I'm using to deal with the sores may be working like i want them to, but it's hard to tell. I have a sample spot I'm checking it out on. It's a spot on the calve of my leg that a friend informed me was concerous. Three different MDs have told me not to worry about it, but it's there, and I worry about it.
I spray the colloids on my hands and toes and that one spot on my calf. Just for the hell of it I spray it on a birthmark on my forearm that's been there forever. I drink a little of it about everyday too. The only real sign anything is going on is that it makes me burp pretty good.
I slept late this morning, went out to lunch, came back and crawled in the bed again. I guess I took a four hour nap. If the reason I have these medical problems is due to stress, then I need to get rid of the stress.
It's warm today, and supposed to be even warmer tomorrow. I'm sitting here with the outside door wide open in my underpants and a t-shirt, and I'm not uncomfortable. I intend to start taking my walks barefooted. I haven't got any comfortable shoes. Before I spend the money to get some I'm gonna try reverting back to my childhood.
The route my brother and I take for walking is mostly dirt. We walk for about a hundred yards on the paved road, but the most of it is a sandy two-lane farm road and the driveway to our houses. I don't know how long it will take for my feets to toughen up, but they have to feel better than wearing ill-fitting shoes. I love my Crocs, but they just ain't getting it as far as walking two or three miles.
❦
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Love Lifteth Me Not
❧
In Oaxaca
there is warmth
and fresh grown
coffee and chokolat
It's there I sot
my unromantic
sights,
to never
make a morning pot
from second-hand
grounds
Why I fixate on Oaxaca I guess I'll never know. I've never been there. I'll probably never go. The closest I ever came to being there is Mexico City. I wrote the verse above this morning in response to a woman I once thought I knew. As usual I inflated her true worth to something she couldn't live up to and she imploded.
It is painful to realize she only used me to get to this point she has been to many times. I became just another fool to blame it on. This transmigration of her soul allows her to implode in order to abandon all the illusion she created to be something she is not nor could be. It's too late now to be beautiful and slim and a front page suffragette for false causes.
Now, it seems, she is like the love interest in the Forrest Gump movie. But, with no child to find a father for before she pays the ultimate price for her intentional sins. There is no joy in Muddville. Love did not lift her up.
Love has never really lifted me up either. Either that or it has lifted me to unrealistic heights at which even a fool like me can't measure up to his own expectations. Love has not filled me with some sublime ardor that forced me to be dependable as a proper mate. Love has never lifted me up to unselfishness, and allowed me to put others before myself.
"but, love is the one thing
I can't give away.
I can give of my body,
and the wealth of my mind
for the one thing
you're seeking to find.
But, the thing
that you're seeking
ain't found in no
answer...
and the questions
you ask...
are just the time of the day.
I can only imagine not being ultimately selfish after all is said and done. It may have been some insane, childish goal of mine to live an impoverished life and to die a miserable, unenvied death that leaves a bad taste in my nemeses' mouths. No matter what lies I tell myself and others to the contrary.
Yet, despite my noblest intentions, I never actually follow through and concede the direction of my life to another person for long. I still let them think that such a feat is possible, but only to see where they would take it unimpeded. I've let many a person knowingly play me for the fool they'd be if they were me. They're not. Maybe that's all they really need from me. To discover with no uncertainty that I'm not who they make me into for their sake.
Sometime I imagine myself to be the oak tree the poet lashed the lunatic to in G.K.Chesterton's tour de force, The Poet And The Lunatic, in order to prove to him that he was not God.
http://www.amazon.com/Poet-Lunatics-G-K-Chesterton/dp/0755100204
For a while after I read this insightful story, I thought I was the poet that would save the world from lunatics like me. Now I know that's not my place. I am is the immovable, but perishable object that forces people who think they have nothing to reconsider.
❦
In Oaxaca
there is warmth
and fresh grown
coffee and chokolat
It's there I sot
my unromantic
sights,
to never
make a morning pot
from second-hand
grounds
Why I fixate on Oaxaca I guess I'll never know. I've never been there. I'll probably never go. The closest I ever came to being there is Mexico City. I wrote the verse above this morning in response to a woman I once thought I knew. As usual I inflated her true worth to something she couldn't live up to and she imploded.
It is painful to realize she only used me to get to this point she has been to many times. I became just another fool to blame it on. This transmigration of her soul allows her to implode in order to abandon all the illusion she created to be something she is not nor could be. It's too late now to be beautiful and slim and a front page suffragette for false causes.
Now, it seems, she is like the love interest in the Forrest Gump movie. But, with no child to find a father for before she pays the ultimate price for her intentional sins. There is no joy in Muddville. Love did not lift her up.
Love has never really lifted me up either. Either that or it has lifted me to unrealistic heights at which even a fool like me can't measure up to his own expectations. Love has not filled me with some sublime ardor that forced me to be dependable as a proper mate. Love has never lifted me up to unselfishness, and allowed me to put others before myself.
"but, love is the one thing
I can't give away.
I can give of my body,
and the wealth of my mind
for the one thing
you're seeking to find.
But, the thing
that you're seeking
ain't found in no
answer...
and the questions
you ask...
are just the time of the day.
I can only imagine not being ultimately selfish after all is said and done. It may have been some insane, childish goal of mine to live an impoverished life and to die a miserable, unenvied death that leaves a bad taste in my nemeses' mouths. No matter what lies I tell myself and others to the contrary.
Yet, despite my noblest intentions, I never actually follow through and concede the direction of my life to another person for long. I still let them think that such a feat is possible, but only to see where they would take it unimpeded. I've let many a person knowingly play me for the fool they'd be if they were me. They're not. Maybe that's all they really need from me. To discover with no uncertainty that I'm not who they make me into for their sake.
Sometime I imagine myself to be the oak tree the poet lashed the lunatic to in G.K.Chesterton's tour de force, The Poet And The Lunatic, in order to prove to him that he was not God.
http://www.amazon.com/Poet-Lunatics-G-K-Chesterton/dp/0755100204
For a while after I read this insightful story, I thought I was the poet that would save the world from lunatics like me. Now I know that's not my place. I am is the immovable, but perishable object that forces people who think they have nothing to reconsider.
❦
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