“Have you thought about what it means to be a god?” asked the man. He had a beard and a baseball cap. “It means you give up your mortal existence to become a meme: something that lives forever in people’s minds, like the tune of a nursery rhyme. It means that everyone gets to re-create you in their own minds. You barely have your own identity any more. Instead, you’re a thousand aspects of what people need you to be. And everyone wants something different from you. Nothing is fixed, nothing is stable.” ~ Neil Gaiman, American Gods
Just a little perspective bump for you. Take a look at the mountain in today’s opening photo here at EyeYotee blog. That friggin thing is one mile high, from valley floor to summit. One mile. It’s big; that’s what I’m sayin’. It’s fun to have that mountain in view each and every day. Sometimes it makes me think – and sometimes it stops me from doing so. I just started the second pot of coffee. It’s going to be a long day. Rosie the cat is at my side. She’s sleeping now but just fifteen minutes ago she was washing the top of her head, and I thought it was one of the cutest things I have ever seen. I’m feeling not so clear this morning, and beer is the culprit; last night. This too shall pass. It’s nice and cool this morning at 58º Fahrenheit. It has been too darned hot lately. I just haven’t gotten used to Summer yet. All I want to do is stay inside this low-light room and pass the time. But . . . I have to do laundry today. There’s no putting it off any longer. And I have a psychotherapy appointment at 11 AM. There’s a lot to say there because my state of mind of late has been pretty rough and ragged. Mental illness sucks. Let me make that clear. The past few days have been a cavalcade of obstacles, or so it seems. I’m just edgy and pessimistic these days. I’ve handled the obstacles like a champ, and there’s a lot to be said for that, but in my current state of mind it doesn’t look like that, it doesn’t look like I am a champ at all. So what, right? Hey, I’m going to take a break from writing this for a few minutes, go out to look at the mountain and the light coming up from behind it. The sun rises way north this time of year. Pretty stuff. Then I’ll pour a cup of fresh coffee and start writing again. Something to do.
The sun has yet to rise but the preceding light is wondrous. Two rabbits were sitting out in the gravel driveway just before I came back inside. I opened the chicken coop door on the way back in and smiled to watch the girls come marching chaotically out. Oscar the turkey is still on top of the coop as I write this. I love that bird. I’m feeling sort of philosophical this morning. I think it has to do, in part, with following the Presidential campaign, Friggin Trump. Between him and Brexit the world seems to be seething in hatred and intolerance. Trump seems like a bad dream while hatred seems all too real. Let’s work on that, k? Thanks, yer a pal. But for now I am hungry and so is the cat. I’ll feed her and then give her daily insulin injection. It will be a struggle to make myself eat. Such is depression. Don’t want to do much of anything. But I will. Discipline, that French woman with the history of severe head trauma told me last week. I agree with her. Laundry, breakfast, therapy – I will make it happen but it will take some doing. I’ll work on my beleaguered cognition on the way. Sounds like a productive way to spend the day. Oh! And an afternoon nap. Last night’s sleep was fraught with anxiety dreams, my hair is a mess as a result, and . . . whatever. Seems like a pretty good day is in store.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.