You can’t prove it

What is most important, is that anything close to what I described happened, that everyone understand that it’s ok now, and it’s ok to talk about it. It really is. And that there is love. And the hurt can be replaced with what should be there, care. That’s what is most important.

Be careful what you pray for

I wanted to really engage with my city. My home town. And wow. Let’s just say it’s been engaging.

I meet people and I can help them so I do. Then I find myself praying for them. And every time, I realize, it’s me. I can answer my prayer! But it’s devastatingly hard.

The hardest thing to do is set a serious boundary. But sometimes that’s a meaningful answer to my prayer for someone. I wish they could find contentment. And you sort of have to force them to do it on their own sometimes.

Next is answer the phone when you really don’t want to. I always pray please please give me the right words. Next is have the conversation you don’t want to. Ohhhh. Challenge someone. It’s like facing a lion. Or a wolf.

It’s all about that language

I figured it out. It doesn’t take me long to figure things out. I used to have this one so well down, but I got tired of doing it. People will respect you if you speak their language. But it’s tiring constantly switching languages. I used to be really good at it. And some people noticed and would call me a shape shifter. It’s body language, vocabulary, slang, and speech patterns. As a kid I adopted a strategy of mimicking others language to fit in so I would be accepted. I noticed it in the last week with a few people I just had a lot of friction with. I was adamant about speaking my language, and these are people that won’t respect or really even consider people who don’t speak their language. I try to respect and consider people who don’t speak my language, but when someone doesn’t speak my language, hearing them is like scratching in my ears and everything inside says ewwwwww. Anyone who says bro, dude, uses slang, and doesn’t use higher level vocabulary, just irks me when they talk. I just want them to stop. It feels disrespectful to me. Language is the leader of the mind, and I want a clean, educated, resourceful mind. Nothing that isn’t fruitful or productive.

My language has become soft, listening, gentle, and warm. Most people do not speak that language. Many don’t even know they have a language. Their just stuck reacting, stuck in the language they were taught. They don’t even see what’s around them. Completely out of touch.

I used to want to be accepted by everyone. I tried hard. And it worked. Nowadays, I’m wiser. I don’t need everyone to accept me. I have found acceptance from God.

The plight of the social mediaist

You could make the most amazing social media campaign but then in three days everyone will have forgotten and be expecting more. What I do is leave the project for a day, meditate by focusing on not thinking about anything for an hour, get lost on a book for an hour, do a stream of consciousness writing for an hour and write everything that comes to mind about anything, then ride a bike hard for an hour. Then review my previous work with a fresh mind to see my blind spots. See through myself. What was I focused on? What are the deeper messages I am subconsciously portraying? Do I want to change those? What do I want to portray? Then talk to myself and ask if I can portray what I want to portray. Am I seeing the big picture?

Some girl took my car

When I picked her up from the hospital a month ago, the story was she had left her car in a certain spot. She had directed me to look for it. When it couldn’t be found, she seemed confident she could find it. This lead me to believe she was trying to make me her alibi. And I was right.

It turns out, she was arrested, they admitted her to the hospital, I now learned she has a mysterious court appearance and her car is the impound! That is what actually happened! I Kent her the impound money last time, and she paid me back. But I’m not lending it this time. She doesn’t want the car, but she can’t let go of because of it’s worth. She keeps trash in it and losing it. She shared it with her ex boyfriend who she hates. So, the car is being sold in a lien sale. Goodbye car. If she focuses on the next year, in a year the loss of the money invested in the car won’t matter. She is staying at her moms and I am keeping in contact with her to help her mentally process her situation. She seems nervous about losing her car and moving on but I remind her to trust in God. It will be fine.

She is still pretending that someone took her car and got arrested in it. Someone else! Haha! It’s kind of funny. There arrest documents with her picture on them. But it wasn’t her. I decided to go along with it. Oh I’m so sorry some girl took your car! That is just so strange and unbelievable!

Flour creations

Once I figured out the basics of flour, 5e possibilities were endles. There’s flour. And water. Maybe oil. baking soda and an acid to lighten things up. And egg to make it better. Who thought of putting an egg in flour? How on earth would you think that up?

See this little brown 5ing? It came out of the chickens butt. Sometimes we cook the. And eat them. I wonder what happens if you whip it up and mix it with flour? Who would conceive of that? It’s like mixing ground beef with flour. Wait a second…

Or tomatoes with flour. I wonder what that does. I now know the tomaotoe will react with baking soda and make bubbles like yeast would.

Or lard and flour…mmmmmmm

Egg cooked in mashed potatoes? Is that a thing yet? Gnocchi?

Egg and chocolate and flour? Someone must have been sitting around brainstorming.

Paddle in

Last night I went to the symphony. They played theme songs from movies. John Williams. Jurassic Park. Et. Star Wars. And that other movie. It was good. It brought back a lot of feeling from childhood that has slowly been buried. I went alone. It was best that way. It brought a lot of tears. Jurassic Park. That song kills me. It holds this promise of hope to me.

Last night I remembered junior guards. Paddling in. This is my life. Putting back together all these fragments. And I’m good at it. All I did as a kid was take things apart and put them back together. It was the last week of junior guards and as a special treat we got to paddle in from the wharf. It was epic. On boogie boards. They had thousands of boogie boards. I was afraid of the deep water. So our baby sitters boyfriend offered to come with me. Eden. Cissa and eden. Her real name was Ramayana. She was from Brazil. I really liked the paddle in. It was cold. We usually didn’t spend that much time in the water. I couldn’t stand being out there so I kept paddling and paddling. The other kids wanted to stop and play. Eden didn’t understand this and got embarrassed. So he stopped and played with the kids. It made me jealous and envious. I never knew how to play. Especially not fantasy. My friends would walk their little figurines around and talk for them. I thought it was stupid. But it’s beginning to have some merit now. I think it’s a method of processing external reality.

Clear out!

I talk to the WRONG people. I tell them things and it’s gets turned inside out. Ouch! I need out of this! Why can’t anyone just look at themselves? There’s this whole culture that has no vision, no hope, no desire for change. I thought they might want to do better! Is it me?

Anyway, life is progressing. I am being ripped apart inside. Finding forgiveness and mercy for myself and others. But also letting go of fantasy and non-realistic views. It’s funny, I’ve popped out of this gooey mess. And seeing everyone else who’s in it. And it’s like, wow. That’s most of the world. I thought I was climbing up into this better world … Where everyone is. The truth is, few people are climbing. I climbed up out of the world! And we all should!

What’s most important was Stacey did the right thing. She always does. Regardless, it’s her choice to do what she wants, as long as it is within her own moral code. She and any company or person have the right to use the judicial system for whatever purpose necessary. She talked to me first, then talked to my superiors, they all gave me time and warning, and then they talked to the courts. That is the correct way to deal with things. And it was right and just. Everything is fine. She is a model for correctly living in a society. I am codependent so I don’t ever stand up for myself. But I am praying that will change. My burden is way too great. I have too many people severely mistreating me. I am going to figure out how to stop this. Maybe I’ll ask them if they need to discuss something with me they don’t like. If so they are free to approach me about anything real.

Roll out

How do you market without selling out? I mean without giving in to appealing to the big lusts of the world. So much marketing is high energy and made to appeal to carnal senses, so how can you compete with a more balanced, sustainable, and ultimately authentic approach?

Next week

This week I had white rice. And next week I, getting brown rice. And all I can think is, what’s it going to taste like? And I’ll get some more eggs to go with my beans. And another $1 can of coconut milk. Where are coconuts breasts? I don’t know but the milk is good. All those little guys hanging sucking the milk out of their mom.

I rode around this morning. This city is kind of weird. I mean the cement ship? I was brought up here and we always sort of idolized the cement ship like everyone else. But now, it’s just kind of weird. I used to have a keep Santa Cruz weird sticker. Weird was cool. But the ship is really just garbage. That’s what it is. And I realize now why all the out of towners trash our beaches. Because the whole city looks like trash to them. Tk us, it’s natural treasure. But coming from a concrete city it looks like trash! That’s what it is. It’s so funny. It has taken me years to get it.