'bold' has yet to be defined

the essence of communication must always contain the original intention otherwise there is really no reason to bother to communicate.

every word should reinforce the story, or why include that word?

and then there's the story you are writing and the story that i am writing.  every day, how do we know we are writing the same story?

we used to remember the collective story we were writing together, but that has gotten lost in our busy, complicated lives we think we have these days.

in the journey of personal relationships, we have to first establish that we are in relation.  because, the truth is, we are not.  in relationship, that is, unless we are consistent when expressing our thoughts towards one another.  quite simply, i can have a million relationships in my mind, and, trust me, i do, yet its the one's in reality that are the most important.

and the same on the collective relationship.  that's important.  what is your connection to the reality you experience every day?  how bold are you in creating reality, the entirety of the vision you see, you are responsible for?  most importantly, what are you doing about it in your life everyday?

anyway.  yeah, i'm lonely.

#more

it started on tumblr, but that was in my dream.

so, in the morning, of course it started in this spanish villa i found myself in the morning after ....

no one wants to know that part of the story.
everyone wants to use their own imagination, don't they?
why is it iany ore fascinating to know what goes on in anyone's mind if you have no idea what they are really doing?
or maybe you do, because it seems that everyone seems to have access to whatever information is being gathered and there are just so many ways to do that in a digital world and the structure is already in place and who exactly is your local #nsavoyeur and how the hell do you think you can trust him or her, because there are some seriously freakish stalking chikas out there too ......

whatever.

seriously lonely.
but not alone.
so pleasantly distracted if it matters.
would just so much rather be at the beck and call of #urpleasur
but, that's just me
#playing until
then because
what else is there to do
#containfukushima
no on listens to me anyway ....
just know your way out
is never through hyd
and seek its just
hard and wet
when i think
about it
that's
all
i
.
.
.

the day after

I received The Sunflower Card, everything was different.  It was as if the exchange on that small street so close to the beach was a secret handshake or something, and I just was unaware of the power of this small laminated Sunflower Card sitting next to my computer.

"We both know, that the harder we try, can't understand it, we're so caught up in the reasons why....  I realized it was just a game.  I had lost my faith long ago."

It was 1973, I would have been one year old at the time.  Who knew.

As the "Return to Prime 73"
there is a reason you can
only be a virgin once.
so you learn how
you learn best
growing in
the best
place
yet
!

twas the night before christmas

we all have one of those stories don't we.

this isn't what chrismas eve is supposed to be like, is it?

all alone.  whether you are literally all alone or in a room full of people, you are all alone.

what makes this story even more tragic, is you don't have to be all alone, but you make the choice to do so.

i know.

the truth is, what i thought it was, isn't what it is, so, yes i do have to be alone, until i find that which i am looking for.  i already committed to that, which is why i am alone.

and now ... i am going to have a dinner prepared by a bonafide French chef, and go and hang with my friends -- like i would just because we want to hang out.  so, then i'll be all alone with them, and they are the best people to be all alone with, especially on the night before christmas!

and then, the real truth is, that there are countless people who are all alone tonight because their circumstances and today is really just another day in the life of, and this is the first year where christmas is merely an excuse to have parties with my friends while my daughter is on vacation.

and there we go following along

until we realize we are merely just following along.
not because its a reality we wanted -- that one we dreamed of when we were children -- but it IS the one we moved to by finding the common space of Marginal Comfort, with just enough misery to make us feel alive.

and then *poof* you realize, if I so choose -- you know the point where you decide you are looking for something and not just for something different vis-a-vis what you have -- if we choose to abandon that part of our security that is a source of misery for the unknown, that quest found in the vision so long ago rendered in our mind's eye, renewing the search again to live out that misery born in Cosmic Boredom in its lament for The Partner, The Lover, A Good Fuq, An Intimate Conversation, A Cosmic Consort.

Music for a Monday Morning

true story

all stories are true, except the one's which are fiction and then those can be manipulated to become the truth if someone is inspired to live the story someone else told because it was just so much more exciting than, say, their own life.

but what happens when the stories that are written get so far from the original truth that inspired the stories in the first place?

ta da, everything in your reality stops making sense.

what you thought was important turns out to be the things people use against you.  and everything of value and importance, gone, stolen really, in their version of your story, they exercise all the control over everything and they can do whatever they want.  those that manipulate stories to become reality, that is, they can do whatever they want because they know how to project out a story and then filling in the blanks with whatever happens to be there to fill in the story in the moment.

some stories are written with certain people in mind; others, well, they are written with a concept of a person in mind and then the storytellers manipulate the script to include their favorite of the moment to play that character for them.

the Best Story Tellers win in the end, usually.  not the actual best story teller, mind you, but the Best Story Tellers, the one's that have nothing to lose by telling the stories of their lives and how it all came to be.

http://youtu.be/9mzY-JgA338

living in hiding

The Algerians were coming, two vans full.
So, I ready the best I could and went to hide.
I am sure the party will be lovely but until the party
is lovely, its best to give them all the space
they need to find their comfort zone
in a space that is inherently hostile
to their mere existence, no
really its not just on the
surface -- a hostile
environment is
often just so
on the
face
of
it
=)

the room around you and the company one keeps

so if I were to write my story today I would begin waking up after sleeping through my alarm. I'm not one to usually even need alarm clock let alone sleep through it. But I did. Sue me.

I am finding it harder and harder to be patient. And, it's not that it's hard to be patient its just why do I still need to be patient?  At some point, people either get it or they don't you can't control whether people ever get it. The only thing I can control is whether I wait for them to get it.

so, I decided to create an arbitrary limit, if they're going to get it and I am to be a part of the reality they exist in, there has to be some indication that it's worth the effort to wait and be patient. I'm going to have to think about what that arbitrary indicator will be.

It's like an algorithm in real life.

so, i had this dream

I do not qualify my dreams as "dreams" vs. "nightmares", the truth be told both seem about the same to me, especially when i realize i am "in" the dream.  =)

i quit.  i quit everything.  i turned off my computer.  the next thing I knew I was looking down at one of those cel phones that can only make and receive phone calls, not even a text message; there was a tv in every room, they were all on 24-7, and I had a Volvo in the driveway, my daughter was asking me for the keys and my house looked like a Pottery Barn store.

and, i've done that before.  turned off the computer.  for years at a time, i have.  what i find interesting, is that life on the computer is just like life off the computer.  you can go away, those who are still your friends are always there, and thanks for spam mail to keep the latent mail boxes working after so many years.  maybe that's why i started that new blog on the eve of my choice to turn it all off again.

i looked at the volvo in the driveway while simultaneously listening to the 4 tvs I could hear tuned into their respective morning q's:   KTLA morning news, Mr. Rogers Neighborhood, The Price is Right, and some idiot on Fox reminding ME, of all people, that our government needs to change.

so, you choose, a prison with a yard or a jail that's constantly as cold as a house where the heater doesn't work.

and then you wake up and its all really just a game.  at least for most people, and when you are not a game player like that, you just are better off not playing at all.  so, that means, things need to change, except that which can't because how the fuck can you have any privacy on a place like this ... not even my accounts can be protected so that only me and the KNOWN watchers like the #NSA, #DHS, #FBI, #PSPD, #SHERIFFSNIFF, etc., are playing.  I just really want to know how someone can follow MY tweets when I did not approve them (besides, the #NowGenerallyAcceptedGovernmentVoyeurs)?  I mean, maybe I approved him by accident because I didn't, unless in a moment of indiscretion or oversight or I've completely forgotten the reality upon which I would have accepted his following my private twitter wtf?!) ... I do know that you have to CLOSELY watch those mobile app authorization things and I often get lost when that happens or someone who borrows my Tablet ... etc., etc., etc.

and then ...

you realize that no, that is not how your cosmic consort would be.
knowing what you do not want in a relationship is probably easier than ever know what you do want.
because the truth is, we have NO idea what we want except in relation to what we don't want.  just because we don't want a "man who is out of touch", we also want a man who we can be independent and detached from without ever feeling that way.  The inextricable need to have that person just "there" when you desire to connect (in whatever form that may take in any given moment in time), is the one that drags us down that co-dependent hole of self-destructive habits that breed zombies at an alarming rate.

connection is great.  Connection will drown you in your own selfish distraction of self-sacrifice to the other just so they will feel loved.  Sick really, if you think about it.  Who wants to feel loved?  I want to know I'm loved by having the timing of meaningful connection serendipitous with the desire rather than need, that when there's a purity that is based in positive vibrations.

Ok, so that's not a story, but its what I'm thinking may work given what I know I do not want.  =)

the earth was shaking

it could happen here in california, "the big one", I was thinking, but I knew this wasn't it.

it wasn't the earth shaking, it was just the old windows and doors of this mid-century desert house rattling so loud under the vibration of the blades of the military chopper which just so happened to be flying overhead.  I actually exclaimed to them, "you don't have to buzz by the residents and don't kill anyone today," the vibration was that of an intentional fly by than their routine taken out of their base of operations down the highway.

hmmmm ... maybe they were buzzing me, warning me.  I did, for about two seconds (one second longer than normal it seemed), have that feeling -- and I stopped in the hallway and waited and whispered in my head, "please don't kill me."  Knowing that the truth is, no one even knows I am here, well except for a handful of a few indulgent family and friends, and they care very little about anything I have to say let alone give it import.

I really do not think that anything I say should piss someone off to the point they want to drop a bomb on me.  I mean I just talk and say all kinds of things about things that interest me or, rather, pique my interest I will more accurately state.  Mostly, I think I read what is there, I make observations and then question the world until it makes sense to me.  And then I must remember, I also didn't think that I'd ever get thrown in jail because of things I wrote.  THANKFULLY, of course, my logical brain did kick in ... my letter, the one I read into #soundcloud and uploaded just before my loud guest arrived, had nothing to do with the war, the drones or anything like that, it was just about my daughter's school and the mess we have going on there.  Surely, there is no need to get the marines involved for that!

And I'm all good again until I go to record a reading of a poem i just penned -- oh, wait, can't say that -- typed, and *poof* that Soundcloud app I use to make and upload audio recordings ... gone.

Sigh, techies and their tweaking!  I am sure my recording option will be back soon just like the word count feature on WordPress.  =)

so u know

reality has a very strange way of presenting itself to each of us in its own magical way.
deciding which reality is real and which is ... oh, say virtual ... is the trick when we realize the games we *think* we need to play in order to achieve our purpose.
knowing purpose is paramount to know the process with which the experience of this 3d world brings together.  and in each phrase we purpose our reality to becoming the one we believe is what we vision based on what? ? ? a projection by our former self?  or just an imposition of the latest craze on the details of our own life?

painting.  #red .... random color choices of a #cosmicgirl.

Light No. 1: BRIGHT LIGHT

WARNING >>>

it doesn't even matter what color it is, its just BRIGHT!

close your eyes.  cover your eyes with your hands, this could hurt if you look into it.

AH, but YOU dared to do it and what did you see?

there it is ... that's the infinite me you caught
a glimpse of in that moment of your
moment you thought you were
The Light (as in Light #2
which allows minions
to play in my
shadow
free
2
do as
they please)
to bring the infinite you
more clearly in view in an unseparable
truth justified by deception that the reality which gives
us all life is just -- an illusion?  mother earth an illusion?  Fukushima is not a nuclear plant melting down?
....
.
.
.
.
.
.
gasp.
i dunno ... this infinite being is 3D
at the end of the day.  3D
holographics do not
this existence
make
...
.
<3nikiV
#fop

I Don't Know

Is the best answer to give when its the truth.
Its often the hardest answer to know if its the truth.
It is an answer that is often given as a lie and often the truth when what is spoken is a lie.

To raise awareness to the question that is asked
"what is your story today" ... and the answer is "I don't know"
Not that "I don't know what I did today," but "my own story"
right now
has so many
...
you know, ellipses.
[and not just to mess with #dhs #nsa or #anon or #wtfur]

because there is a constant context of plot lines any life script may take in the moment it is in, and until you get more and more experiences consistent with the same script, you can't really see the context of your story.  what you thought was the main plot line may just be the deep feed into the reality just beyond that one in that dream you could not remember upon waking this morning.

#sleeptym

i suppose it is time to go to sleep?! a message i typed to no one in particular except that particular you that you are and because that doesn't make sense to anyone but you, you do indeed know who you are. and if you are reading this and do not think you know who you are, or at least you are curious to know what i think about who you are, i wonder exactly who that is. because the TRUTH is, i know nothing about you and you do not care to share with me anymore than you do so .... i care only to share with whomever it is who will find this writing one day in context with all the rest and whenever that maybe is and all ways can only b you as the u u r u r on u r on i u r on me coming exactly how you know you would when you could do what you wanted in the moment you finally realized the truth in this reality that never before existed that you too could make pornography you would want in your tumblr feed and one that would turn you on every day no matter ur mood =)

making public comment

in a little back room of some government building that is now irrelevant because it is irrelevant they've got nuregs now that take human life and calculate its worth to be less than you guessed it less than b4 . . . . nuRegs redesigned with the NWO, u know, humanized to the point of survival one love is a n o t h e r way of saying it, isn't it? lol -- i had several favorite speakers at today's NRC's #publiccomment on #wasteconfidence: first ... mad props to #jeremyofMitsubishi OKUPI! and then there was my favorite kind of public comment -- the genius! He was probably like the guy in red converse high tops that attends every city council meeting, but perhaps with a different name and maybe this one calling into the NRC is taller, but they echo the same chorus. He voiced something I know, yet had not given it a real thoughtful thought: a meteorite landing in a nuclear cooling pool. I am glad that I wasn't the one who had to have that dream to even give voice to that potential reality we face every moment. WOW! What a chemical reaction THAT would be!

which script

is running through your head? how much of the script is autobiographical? realize the moment is never scripted until someone chooses the words first.

The Fiction U Cre8

in ur life is ur business. what i choose to write about are the things that either threaten or pleasure me most. because security is the only thing that prevents anyone from experiencing only pleasure in any breath you take on this amazing planet that exists only to give us life and we are so intent on what? killing ourselves? hoarding only for ourselves? why do we not all need to know about #fukushima? its threat to our reality. usually its just best to .... #fuqdah8rs! and work on cre8ing the reality u want 2 experience knowing what u need and allowing urself to provide 4 urownneeds first, until u know what urwants even r . =) possibilities abound in every moment love the one urwith is sometimes good enough but most of the time being with the one u want is the best of all. u should do that as often as u desire otherwise YRU breathing on planet earth ? ? ? ? keep breathing . . . . because?

What Am I Still Curious About?

after all the people are gone. all the phones are quiet. there's not even a soul online ... well, except that chick who's always there because she's like me and hates to be alone too, and then there's always the men here too, those are always available though. but really we are alone because its really just a digital reality i could choose to live in day after day. of course, i do not. i have lived my life deliberately unplugged for over a decade now, experiencing and interacting in the world that is manifest -- that same world that has a nuclear power plant on uncontained meltdown, the escalation of this World War 3 we are in the middle of and we want to go nuclear on that as well, not to mention GMOs and the Suicide Gene and Common Core Curriculum and .... on and on and on the list can go! i've been unplugged long enough to know that a digital reality is nothing but a game that has no ending and while it can be intriguing and fascinating, it only can be so relevant to my everyday reality. what would be best is the combination of the two that ... you know, never ends. and preferably that we can take to different dimensions if we can somehow figure all of that out together. and spend a lot of time being curious about all kinds of things, nature, old ancient stuff, simple things. so, engaging in the real world with the digital world with safe distances through the lines of communication that seem to be formed around the very thoughts i create, i wait for nothing as i know nothing is all i can expect because in this moment that is all there is. following that path will lead me to tomorrow where i just may find what i was looking for all along.

visualize 'nothing'

One would have to understand Not just in the context of one But in the voice of many That which was just revealed Because one voiced their thoughts. Be in truth in the moment Fulfill each desire A habit of ur Momentum Clashes With The Truth That you Cannot touch Hold feel penetrate Time 2 never b alone again It is supposed 2 b that ez

it doesn't matter

Listen to the html. Sometimes it tells a different story sometimes ur happens and sometimes its supposed to do that.

some days

it isn't that today was a bad day.  it was one of those days when, you know, things come to a head.  and, as the universe would have it, no one else would facilitate what everyone knew was a firestorm that had been brewing for months.

'so a classic mess ... but the driver only made me pay 50 cents for the ride home.  iPod is dead but the couple in the back of the bus are amusing enuff.  too many thoughts that i may need to forget to have because reality is what it is and there's not much any of us can do about it except for whatever we think about doing in the moment. 

do your best, be impeccable with your word .... 

it is simply amazing how many peeps are on this bus ... and serious chronic behind me.  you know there's a revolution when you can light on up and pass it on the bus.  Adam was cute, a model, out doing an event ... invitations you just have to respond to after all, what if that's the party?'

it is merely just another day i woke up breathing on planet earth and maybe i did something good.

it is hard

that is really what you wanted to write in that message, didn't you?

to write how hard it is .....

i realize that not everything i write needs a response but you could have told me how you felt ........

all of which means nothing because there is no context to any of this communication.

Zero Choices

On the Western Side of the Slope, morning always comes a bit later.  The sun doesn't really feel like it exists, let alone will dominate the day like it will, until 9:26ish.  So, why get out of bed before then?

After all, we already know that the End of the World is coming, and since no one else seems to care (amongst those who make decisions -- the true hallmark of a human, the "Deciders" are those who exercise their free will, seemingly to the detriment of even themselves), then there is no thing a simple human being like me can do to arrest or stop the demise of the planet, so we truly are YOLOing it back into infinity. 

Sometimes it sucks being on yet another recycling planet during its more destructive phases of its cycle of existence.  But, Ms. Kempton, I came to talk about Ms. Kempton, aka The Third Grade Teacher.  The one that taught me the "First Real Secret of Life" when she confirmed that the world lies about the simplest things if it will suit its agenda.  And, sometimes, agendas are not those we script but the one of the confluence of energies that happen to coalesce in a space and time with a vibration to even portend to manifest into something real that isn't in that cycle of destruction of the revolution but seeded in the construction of the creation of that which comes when the dust settles.  How many nuclear weapons are we talking about exactly?

Right.  Mrs. Kempton, was the one that gave me the fear of nuclear weapons during one of those drills.  You remember them, where you KNEW your desk would protect you from a nuclear mushroom cloud that killed how many human beings?  Usually, as she had done the same drill every three of four months for however long she was an elementary teacher, Ms. Kempton was always posed and stern when the alarms went off, "just in case it wasn't just another drill," but not that day.  Something had shook her to her very core and she was really scared.  So was I.  But we lived through it, it was just another drill.

Come to find out she was scared about something completely unrelated to the Russians or any nuclear weapon, but those are the kinds of things you find out after you go to a class reunion or catch up with classmates after all these years.  But, like many people of my generation, my fear of nuclear weapons is still real.

Until recently, it was such a huge problem we did not even know how to solve it.  But, today, there is actually a plan to solve the threat of nuclear weapons, for our children we can do it.  Or not.  We choose.  You choose.  If you do not, don't worry,The Deciders will continue doing the choosing.

Kicking frustration

Playing Jinx In Love

When was it, I wonder, when we were all programmed to be so self-effacing?  And, really, we are not, but we pretend to be in order to hide what we really want.  I suppose if we just all went after what we wanted instead of feigning a self-worthlessness that manipulates only the weakest of minds for cheap emotional payoffs, we would all be pigs.  And, not those kinds of pigs that are of the cute, e.b. white variety.

I got an eNote from a relatively new friend the other day, who indicated, "I don't want to jinx it [a new relationship]."  That made me disappointed, as I thought he was a man.

What kind of real relationship would anyone get involved

where that is a thought a grown man would have?

 What kind of relationship could ever result from a beginning such as this?  To be honest, I never even had that kind of relationship in high school.

There is a difference between being a nice person who is an adult, knows what they want, knows what they don't want, knows the qualities of a relationship for empowerment.  Then there's the nice person who is always looking for someone to treat them badly so they have an excuse for not succeeding in the life they desire to live.  Working to impress someone is a distraction for people who are unable to receive love.  And, if you look around on planet earth right now, there are many people currently afflicted with that psychosis. 


What I am finding, as I journey out on this path once again stepping into the realm of inter-personal relationships with an eye to relationship, I realize the lessons I learned from my first marriage are profound and I am so grateful for that experience.  But, I love being a pig and know that in relationships, if you are insecure ever, you will be insecure always.

Insecurity defeats the purpose of being in relationship.

house work reality

I am seriously impatient with reality that borrows time from a frozen maple tree.  And, since bi-dimensional realities have yet to be seriously considered mainstream, I suppose I shall sit here and write my story today.  Which is really quite boring, being one of the most common nature:  Housework.

"Housework is evil and must be stopped."  (fridge magnet)

So, in writing my own story, I'd write that part of this day out of the story.  And, instead . . . .

Still, no message.  All the usually tricks had not worked.  No message.

"He's either really going through it, or he's just mean like that."  That "or ...." was insecurity or was it.  The truth, on so many levels, we are still strangers.  But, if I learned anything in jail was, 'remember the last thing communicated and just remember that and do not create something only in your own head until you have another experience.  Realize and know the patterns.'  That last part always can be tricky to accept.

I have decided to accept the ones that do not make me impatient.  In other words, second time around, if things make you trip, they are friends.  If they take care for the things that make you trip, take it one day at a time.

After all, I am an absolute bitch.  Ask anyone who knows me really well.  I don't try to be, I just am -- one of those natural things that happens when I'm impatient+frustrated+angry=bitch.  These are my known-to-work solutions.

If I am being a bitch and I am right, an immediate acknowledgment of that and any required action or remedy is immediately taken, if I'm not right or being unreasonable or you don't understand a word I said, ask me if I'm hungry.  If yes is my answer, remind me I just told you I was hungry and that I said THAT is more important than talking right now.  If that doesn't make me laugh, "make love not war" (mlnw) is the only solution that comes to mind and be persistent and take no for an answer because my anger comes from something you nor I could be responsible for, so while we do our work let's make love as often as possible.

Beneath it all, truly, we are all happy living the life we are living.  If we were not, we would do something to change it, and that is "far more difficult than the 1st step in any revolution"  For the inspiration for this blog, for these words, for these feelings, for these acknowledgements, I owe much gratitude to all my intimates in all dimensions and those I do not even know yet.

So, sigh, housework, with my daughter, teaching her things my mom taught me.  Her spoon might be silver, but she's going to know how to polish it like a Dutch girl.

Home Again

When she met him, he was living at his parents.  Like so many stories, his had brought him full circle.  The struggle to be himself was an on-going battle in that scene.  She watched him challenged by that knowing how hard it is to be one's self when that "self" has no resemblance to the child that lived there so many years ago.  It seemed, to her, he was looking for the perfect role to play but could not help but be himself -- somewhere between the child he was supposed to play at home and the man he had become.  He simply did not realize how charming that was.

Or maybe he did, and the act was all for her benefit.  She did not discard that possibility, she was, after all, a social media artist -- every angle of every story was possible.

The ancient patterns of childhood always come crashing into the reality which tries to rewrite and change everything one has become while growing into one's self.  Those old habits of relationships and beliefs now so out of place seemingly to be easily discarded as out-dated, but yet they remain ingrained in the timing and rhythm of the original family.  Time will tell if the rub of the new relationship would be enough to slough off the dead patterns and whether that may be the only purpose of the relationship.

She was a mess all by herself, she thought. "Why would anyone want to be in a relationship with me?"  She wondered out loud.

"me, distracting myself becuz i cannot feel u."

That was the last line of the instant message and it was sent before she thought again, and then she drew in a sharp breath.  Just an honest statement of fact, really.  But, it was no longer just in her mind.  Then, consistent with her own rule, she deleted the conversation.

"What do you need from me?"  Was his instant response.

"just b."

"I can do that."

'Life is merely another form of self-imposition' came to mind, and she dared to seed her next thought, "what i want ...."

His text was equally responsive.  It was then when I decided he was a very responsive human being after all; when he was being responsive, that is.  Considering him as a human consort just got more intriguing.   Curiosity is, after all, the highest path in human evolution, but it is not without its hazards.

an idea

based on a seed
based on a dot
based on a moment
based on reality's curiosity
based on indulgence of possibility
based on absolutely no thing at all.  "do u know
ur beautiful" because u r.  u r.
ignore what you have
become, you can
take it out and
let it die
again
and then
it can become
whatever Story You Write.
i just know it is fun to do it with u.