A lot of things thraveled trough my mind . ding wow. They continue to do so like cars whizzing by me as I drive on the shoulder of the road. Each car matches my speed, looks at me, and is a story. The cars may be spectacuar in some way, but befor…
I stop. I was trying to say
wait, what. What line is this? Is this the line for the Orange Jeff blog about all his hopes and dreams? Why am I blowing my distraction on how pretty he cars are wizzing by me in my throw away anaolgy imagry. I am trying to do better. Today was what I needed it to be. The imaginary ape standing atop my objective mountain, throwing what might be beer barrels or whisky barrels. I mean right? I can’t think of anything that would be at a factory in whsikey barrels except whisky. Interesting.
I got extra high. ha. I laugh even as I say that. There is no doubt I am now not able to . ding. Ended.
I went over the top and scared away a possible … companion. The thoughts are either memories of the now from an hour ago. I look at the clock at 4pm and then it’s 7. Then it’s 8 and the room mate returns in my real world and my process of guilt starts a reverse count down, but that i her purpose. I accidentally created a relationship that almost works. A home with another person that is happier not sharing ot talking, but complins like a tenant and is mastered at showing the emotions that precisely injur me with emotional wounds that I secretly still work to reverse.
One of my very earliest lessons down this path as assimilating as one of them.
Sometimes the excitement of a BAM idea is lost so fast, that even as I’m typing, I can’t switch because the line I’m typing was a winner too.
I’m not doing well with my analogies tonight. I lmost talked about throwing two babies at you to catch.
SO many ideas… oh yeah, transcribed in chat.
My Universe has decided I should write tonight. I’m getting close to that moment in my timeline when I’ve leaked it at a speed that is more like the water hose off the side of the house than my stream. My phone has become too hard to record to. ding. No. I redact that… no. I regret it and retell that I’ve secretly hoped to find a fan in my hints. I had a revelation about reruns that I lost.
Ok… the night.