Back out to Full Size

“He is, or has been, in many ways a great man. But for this very reason he is odd. It is only petty men who seem normal.” ~ Umberto Eco

The very nicest thing about being a writer is that you can afford to indulge yourself endlessly with oddness, and nobody can really do anything about it, as long as you keep writing and kind of using it up, as it were. I am, this morning, endeavoring to persuade you to join me in my deluded world; it is a happy, irrational, rich world, full of fairies and ghosts and free electricity and dragons, and a world beyond all others fun to walk around in. All you have to do—and watch this carefully please–is keep writing. As long as you write it away regularly, nothing can really hurt you.”  ~ Shirley Jackson

“What art offers is space – a certain breathing room for the spirit.” ~ John Updike

Did you ever notice how Facebook messes with your head? Not intentionally, of course. And not the Russians. I don’t mean them – and while I’m at it, I still can’t get the image of Boris Badenov out of my head whenever I think of Russians. I’d like to keep it that way because it pays to retain at least one bright spot in such dark times. But back to Facebook. It’s not the platform as such. It is the algorithms. It’s easier to see what I am talking about if you look at YouTube, but . . . listen, these algorithms can narrow down your consciousness. Never mind why. I am simply not articulate enough to explain myself this morning, and the coffee ain’t helpin’ none. I mean no slight against the coffee. I love the stuff. But I am a little uneasy with the flat out fact that we live in a society that needs an upper just to get into the day. Lucky for me I enjoy this particular drug. ~ ~ ~ I just stepped outside between this paragraph and the previous paragraph. The stars are gone and the hues of lavender suffuse the air with mystery, and that mystery tends to fade as the Sun comes up full. And the ‘same old same old’ day begins. I say do not let the mystery fade. At least that’s what I say to myself. My first trip outside this morning, back around 3 AM, gifted me with a clear view of Ursa Major. Such a sight touches my soul. Yesterday was Beltane. A sacred day. I wasn’t feeling so sacred yesterday, and it saddened me to feel that way. Going to the laundromat, and actually doing my laundry, helped some. Psychotherapy at 4-5 PM helped even more. After that it was a puff and a pint, and then another. Not enough to make me forget the world, just enough to get the physical unit to calm the fuck down enough to hear the gentle pervasive hum of life. I’m kind of a Druid in that respect. The Music of the Spheres moves me in wordless ways. Yeh, I enjoy sharing my thoughts over coffee in the morning, when I sometimes attempt to put that music into words. And then sometimes I get all fantasy-like and talk about the bruja who antagonizes me, or how I died and came back to life with some weirdo story about a goddess and we are all connected and love is all you need and all is well so quit worrying. Sigh. I’m not drinking my two morning cups of coffee as fast as I used to. I am in no friggin hurry to get up to speed. And BTW, I don’t mean to call that stuff “fantasy” because it ain’t real – because it is. It just is. That having been said – – hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work I go. Of course, not until I go look at the Sacred Mountain first, and then a mindful cleansing shower. Yeh, a hot shower, mindfully embraced, causes the aura to contract. Ya wash it out real good and the shake it back out to full size. Oh, never mind.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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