Gilligan and Quantum Entanglement

IMG_3031 - 2008-06-30 at 06-31-18

“Perhaps there is more sense in our nonsense and more nonsense in our ‘sense’ than we would care to believe.” ~ David Bohm

It took me a full hour to get around to making my first cup of coffee. That doesn’t seem right to me. Some kind of self abuse? Likely so.  Yesterday’s blog post never came to be as well. What is it all about? I’m tired and just about to, on a grand scale, crawl out of the nutshell I have been living in for the past eight months. That’s a good explanation but I can’t, as far as I know, clarify it much. The ending of a nearly seven year relationship smacked me two steps this side of danger. Self abuse is only a part of it, part of the shriveled feeling I have known in the interim, in the time since the breakup. Ouch. I’m fine when at work at the animal shelter. At my previous job I was not even close to fine; too much solitude. Too much solitude, too much wrangled habitual thought. I can’t get much clearer than that.

“I went to the doctor, I went to the mountains
I looked to the children, I drank from the fountain
There’s more than one answer to these questions
pointing me in crooked line
The less I seek my source for some definitive
The closer I am to fine.” ~ the Indigo Girls

Today’s weather is sweet, an emotional balm that was not even needed until it was, which happened when I noticed that I felt better in some nondescript way. The air feels thick but that is an illusion, with the humidity at only 22%. And the chill in the air is also an illusion. That’s two illusions with which to start the day. I like illusions as much as the next guy, it’s just that I feel no fear this time, and I suspect that a transition is brewing these deceptive feelings. In addition to that is the sensation brought on by a dour feeling hovering close, and trying to step up to the helm of this metaphorical  boat. The boat is being guided by Gilligan. The Skipper is not in sight, and the Professor is tied up below, wallowing in the brig, incarcerated for being too rational on an annoyingly steady basis. Where’s Mary Ann? Yer just a dreamin’ there sailor. Curiously, there are dark clouds to the west. Go figure. How’s that for a nice addition from the special effects department. Thanks guys, yer all pals. Make note of that. I don’t say it that enough.

I’ve got an appointment with a new therapist on Monday; new to me. Finally I will go straight to the trauma from my nearly deadly bicycle accident back in ’84. I’ve since carried the idea that most all of my restive behavior since then has been a continuation of how I have been all of my life. This view sucks in that it cannot be true. I’ve been in denial since ’84, regardless of the fact that my chosen cover story was a pretty danged good one, well crafted, and malleable in that it changes with the times. The perfect foil.

There’s no going long today. I feel a deep sadness, and have noticed that tears have been sporadically gracing my eyes lately, as welcome messengers whispering of things to come. That mysterious feeling of prescience, I know, is because of quantum entanglement, from myself to myself, across a short chunk of time. Is it happiness coming down the pike. No can tell. I feel something. That’s all I know. Just the fact that I am now beginning to look at conscious evolution as a realm of study in preparing myself to grow, perhaps in spurts, but growth is to be encouraged, now and forever. I’ll get there, but right now I need to embrace the sadness that has me anchored just off shore. I got Gilligan to cease his shenanigans. That’s a good start.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.



2 thoughts on “Gilligan and Quantum Entanglement

  1. Today is a new moon – and I like how you are planting seeds for some feelin’ better thing even if your not sure what these seeds are meant to look like when they get growing. 🙂

  2. Thanks for the head’s up on the new moon, and for the kind words. The future I can see is an array of filaments, all emerging from my third chakra and fourth. Different colors and intensities of illumination. Very much like Don Juan’s “assemblage point. My superego is saying like dude what if you choose the wrong one? And I say like chill, dude.

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