Well hello there reader(s), I’m rushed to report this morning, after a marathon analyzing session with mom on the phone this morning, covering everything from tyranny of the minority, Plato and Prime Order, “murky” elected officials, Hollywood propaganda, and the thinking person’s struggle to make it through the 12 steps. I have to get dressed soon to meet sponsor Shawn at Starbucks, where I am to make a gratitude list for the men in my life I resent the most. Happy Women’s Appreciation Month, or whatever it is called.
I cleaned up my workspace on mom’s dining room table very, very quickly yesterday. Trashed most of the stuff I had collected over the past four months. Oh well, off to the Columbus dump it goes. I’m actually pleased that my “journal” is now here online, I’m no longer keeping a written journal, which is good because all my others seem to have mysteriously disappeared over the years, save the one I wrote in 2017 and purposely chucked in mom’s Rumpke bin, hoping in psychotic delusion that it made its way to the Puppet Master or Primal Order (whichever moniker you prefer).
OK, up I go to get dressed. I’ll try to write more later. Just call me the maniac playing with the murky muck. Ta.
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OK I’m back from my meeting with Shawn, boy, it’s cold out today! I think temps are in the low 30s and it’s chilly in here. I decided to make a Chicken Noodle soup for dinner, this day just calls for soup, don’t you think? My mood is fairly good today, aided by an 11(!) hour sleep last night. I don’t remember my dreams, so I think that’s good. Nothing rattling to wake me up early, which is nice. Fetter told me that dreaming is “normal” people’s way of working through quasi-psychotic thoughts, and that’s something interesting to ponder, I think. If true, that means I took my subconscious into my reality when I was out wandering on the loose in my various psychotic adventures here in central Ohio. Interesting that I took to walking downtown, or driving through the ghettos. So alluring, I guess.
I hope to make it to my AA Meditation group tonight. It’s nice to get in a relaxed state before bed. I think I’m truly grateful that I am able to live a very, very low-stress life—it’s the cornerstone of my stability. I’d like to find some way to illustrate this in a mosaic if I can. Show how I took a shattered life and nervous system and rebuilt it into something stable and strong. Michael is getting the attic ready for me to work on my art there and maybe I will start with this mosaic. Funny, I’m going back to mosaics, yet I also like the trash I find too. Guess I try to blend shards of objects with trash (though actually that’s what I’ve been doing for the past four months).
Oh what does my art mean, how do you interpret it, who knows, it’s just me, here in an “Awakening” of sorts harkening back to Jonathan Edwards and my ancestors before him. Guess I thank the nuts on Wastebook for setting me off. When will my starship come back to earth? Oh well, enjoy the view now while you can. Keep writing, it’s good for you.
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