Reflections

I Think I’ve Been Trolled…

… but not necessarily in a good way. Lol! I mean, I’m almost always up for an enlightened discussion, but this felt like a stroll through the Twilight Zone.

I was contacted on Facebook messenger by a friend I haven’t really spoken to in years, who dropped the name of our only mutual friend to get my attention. It worked enough to get me to respond though I was quite surprised by the contact. And then it immediately went off the deep end. From links and questions about conspiracy theories to overt attempts to get me to declare my allegiances, my suspicions were aroused. I immediately asked if he was joking, though he assured me he was not. Still… so many links and stories supporting Trump and his evil cohorts, so many lies and misdirections, so many side trips down hate filled alleys… and all from a gay anti-religious male I once knew…

I had to laugh out loud. Literally…

Was I supposed to believe that I was really talking to my friend? When he refused to commit to any path or answer any question? Or am I to believe he’s still my “friend” if he is trying to entrap me as he is? From hinting at revolution to implying Trump is our savior? From promising relief from debt to threatening me about the coming changes? And when I told him I believed that we are more likely to reenact the fascist regimes of the past, with many joining in while others quietly sacrificed themselves in pursuit of something moral, the conversation stalled a bit. Until finally I asked if he was a man with moral standards and integrity or a supporter of the evil rulers? And the conversation petered out…

He would not answer that. Nor would he even respond to thoughts of an imaginary world free of predatory practices…

So, yeah… there’s that. And I think that I’ve been trolled. Question is, did I pass the test and pay my toll, so I may safely cross into another world? Or did I lose my way and play the game, and so ensure my captivity here?

Is it true that only time will tell?

Hmm…

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Reflections

Ch-ch-ch-changes…

Change is good. Change is necessary. Change is difficult. All true…

But not always, and not necessarily at the same time. The trick is knowing when to change, what to change, how to change, and perhaps most importantly, how to prioritize those changes…

Yeah, I’m Heidi-ing you all! Lol!

(I have a coworker who can speak seriously for several minutes on a topic of some concern to her, and when she’s done, you realize you have absolutely no idea what she was trying to say. Her name is Heidi. And when your name has been adopted as a verb where I work, your immortality is ensured; it’s kind of a back-handed compliment, an acknowledgement of legendary status.)

My problem is that change is upon me, but my brain can’t disentangle one change from another, leaving me feeling frustrated and confused. I had hoped that writing about change would help me sort it out, but I’m not saying anything helpful at all…

I’ve been speaking to change for the past week or so, and while I have accumulated quite a bit of it, I now resent the extra weight in my life. And still, the larger fortunes touch the lives of those around me, though it’s certainly closer to home (including my daughter and my roommate)…

Change is upon me at work, as well, one I’ve been waiting years to see happen. It seems to be progressing slowly now, but only because the need for such change has grown exponentially. And now that it might finally be happening, I’m not sure I want to see it through…

I’m trying to broaden my writing abilities by participating in these challenges. Fun at first, when I wrote like me, but not so much while I’m trying to write differently. The flash fiction challenge (blogbattles) is especially challenging. I have always been an “inspired” writer, meaning I take a simple idea, title or prompt of some sort and start typing to see where it goes. When it’s done, it’s done, except for copyediting to correct spelling and grammar, and perhaps smooth over some rough spots.

But now I have to let the whole story play out before writing a single word, then try to craft what I remember of it into something coherent and smooth. Working backwards from the end is frustrating, and boring, since I already know the whole story. So I’m struggling to maintain my interest in an effort to broaden my skills. I expect it to be difficult because it’s so different, but at what point do you simply give up?

One of the reasons (excuses?) I gave up on ever being published again (by self or other) is that I didn’t want to work that hard at it. Writing has always been my release, my comfort, and one of many paths I’ve found that lead to peace. Is it possible to maintain that love and passion when the effort becomes too strenuous? Can there be both pleasure writing and work writing co-existing in my heart and mind?

Hmm…

I’ve read many blog accounts of writing struggles, of how authors pore over every word, multiple times, tweaking, re-writing, agonizing… They sit with a piece for days or weeks, sometimes years (!) before calling a work finished and publishing it. That’s not me. I’m too lazy for that, especially since I started blogging; it’s far too easy to hit that publish button and be done with it. And while it’s certainly possible to go back later and update it, when I realize another word or approach might improve it, I rarely bother. I mean, if my followers receive my posts by email, then they only see my first published draft anyway. About the only time I make changes after publication is to correct spelling errors, and then, only because I’m too embarrassed to let them stand…

I wasn’t always so lazy about writing, of course, though my style has always been inspired. The difference is the technology. I used to write everything long hand, then make necessary changes when I typed it up. If I wanted a printed copy, more tweaks might occur before pressing that print button. If I then had someone translate it into a PDF type file for easier digital sharing, it would undergo more revisions. The reformatting process itself was the editing that most authors practice automatically. The work wasn’t complete until it was contained in a read only file somewhere…

But not anymore…

Things change. And so have I…

And now that you’ve been Lisa-d (assaulted with too many words of too little value, creating a sense of time wasted in pointless pursuit of nothing), only one question remains:

Do I press that publish button or let this moulder in my draft file with so many other pointless and/or unfinished works…?

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Poetry

Defiance…

When the Earth erupts in flame and fire

I shall stand and burn.

When the Earth is washed with deep flood waters

I shall stand and drown.

When the Earth is shaken to its core,

a trap of stone and rubble,

I shall stand and dance.

When the Earth is cleansed with winds of change,

cyclonic storms that rupture and rend,

I shall stand and breathe.

When all that I have ever known is gone and lost forever,

then…

and only then…

to the flow of Time I shall at last surrender

and still be Me…

whenever!

** Offered in response to the poetry challenge from Cafe Philos…

http://cafephilos.blog/2019/03/31/the-cafe-philos-poetry-prompt-for-them-that-be-wild-things-march-31-2019/

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Poetry, Reflections

Fractures…

Fractures…

Glaring defects in all we know.

Micro glitches in my CD, bringing dissonance to those soothing sounds.

Shattered lines and missing pieces in the mirror I hold, distorting every image it reflects.

Spider-web cracks spreading across the window glass, blocking every vision that might exist beyond the pane (pain)…

Simple lines bisecting bones, altering every relationship I hold with gravity on this Earth.

Eliminating any weight-bearing strength I might once have had…

Fractures…

Massive movement on a global scale.

As continental plates rub against one another, creating heat in friction,

threatening to overflow in melted stone and ash.

Shaking up this world in trembling anticipation of what is yet to come.

Ice shelves slipping gracefully into the sea, drowning out the sound of whispering winds,

roaring out a challenge and a warning, so remote it’s voice is barely heard.

Icy winds drive massive storms, burying the cities and the plains in blinding snow,

freezing every person, place or thing in time that moves without changing anything.

A sun that rises, strong and warm, driving out the chill,

Melting all the evidence of all that we’ve done wrong.

Water rising as clouds cry, and snow recedes,

washing away the memory of death breathing down our necks.

Almost…

Fractures…

In the dams that keep the floods at bay…

In the foundations that keep us standing up…

In the beliefs that kept us calm through so many of life’s storms…

In the hope that life will triumph over catastrophe next time…

Fractures…

In the rose-colored glasses and the ego-driven classes.

In the delusions and the promises and the trajectories of our time…

Not broken… Yet!

But soon enough we’ll see

the fractures running through each and every one of us.

Giving up and giving way

collapsing under our own weight

destruction of all we’ve made

creation of a whole new day…

*** *** ***

And with Day 8, One Truth made manifest,

the blinding Light chasing protective Shadows away,

leaving a Mind to crumble and cast about, seeking something solid to hang onto.

But there was Nothing left…

And so it fractured, and fell into a heap.

And tiny pieces trembled as they lifted themselves from the ruins of all-that-was,

seeking Wholeness,

seeking Peace.

“I am alone,” One thought.

And her Heart broke at that realization.

New fractures replacing old…

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Reflections

Truisms…

Love heals all wounds…

Not really, though I might be willing to concede that caring causes most…

Denial – not just a river in Egypt…

Funny. Ha ha! But not. At least not when it really matters…

Truth speaks for itself…

Perhaps the biggest lie of All, because it means nothing, if no one can actually hear it.

***. ***. ***

And in the end, what does it really matter? We will do what we will do, regardless of love, awareness or truth. We will believe what we want to believe, regardless of what wisdom, experience or knowledge we possess. We will trust ourselves before all others, even when we know that we are wrong…

Why?

I have no real idea other than the fact that truisms stand by themselves. Static little moments in a dynamic, ever-changing reality. Anchors in a stormy sea of unrelenting tides and passions…

Hope springs eternal…

Though only in a world where time is irrelevant.

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Dreams, Reflections

The Labyrinth

Trapped in the labyrinth in last night’s dreams

being tested, repeatedly.

All different scenarios, but with the same goals:

to get me to own my own shit.

I tried to engage the people I met

to recruit them toward helping me.

But every one turned their backs on me…

After all… it wasn’t their shit!

The “answer” was always the same –

some version of “letting go”

or “moving on”

and leaving them on their own…

Until every twist and turn within

became almost predictable.

With me saying, “yep, yep, yep…”

And starting to speed up my steps.

One of the advantages, I suppose

of so many years getting to know

My self…

And then I woke, relieved at first

that the tests were temporarily shelved.

Only to roll out of bed to intense physical pain,

brought on by the questionable weather?

“What the hell is this about?!,”

I thought to ask myself.

“So much progress made today,

and this is the thanks I get?!”

***

So much I’ve learned in lifetimes here, but one truth remains elusive: how to find real relief living in a 3D shell residing in a 3D hell…

I mean, truthfully, every day here is like every other, as predictable as the dream itself. I wake, quite often feeling physical pain, just to prove it’s not a dream. Drink coffee. Clean myself (maybe) or have breakfast (maybe), but those are the only variables with which to play. Dress myself and head to work, to “earn” my way in this world…

Then it’s off to visit friends sometimes, or maybe a trip to the store, to buy those necessities a 3D body requires (like coffee, and food, and clothes). Then home (at last!) to see my cat, who’s waiting eagerly for his treats. More coffee, and a chance to sit (finally!), to catch up on some emails, read some blogs, or maybe watch tv…

Until I’m sleeping where I sit, struggling to stay awake. Why? I have no real idea. Maybe because to sleep resets the day, so I can go through it all again…

And once a week work offers me a check, a “thank you for showing up” gesture that I appreciate. So one night a week includes a trip to the bank, to put my UOMe into a talking machine. But there is nothing owed to me, when all the math is done, as I am just a temporary holding station. For two days later, I guarantee, I’ll be on the internet, paying bills, all honestly owed. And my IOThem’s are always more than UOMe’s, you know.

So it’s back up for another day, another round of all this stuff. And I can find no real escape! Trapped here in this vicious cycle, monotony day by day. Predictable as the labyrinth within my dream, but without a clear path to follow. Not even the offer of a dead end path, down which I might willingly wander. If only for the change of pace…

My mind is free to wander, of course, and it very often does. But the body remains trapped here, unable to “move on.” And while I realize that I have much here to be grateful for, and perhaps more than I deserve, the truth that haunts the background here is, “who wants to live in a cage?”

***

“Why is this?! It makes no rational sense!,” I scream in my frustration.

“There is no logical, reasonable, spiritual explanation that even remotely justifies it!”

For if reality is my own creation (and I believe it is),

and if I am capable of manifesting miracles here (which I believe I’ve done),

then there is no way I should be physically trapped here in this place!

The body is just a vessel, nothing more, nothing less. Is there any wonder why I’m often self-destructive? I know I’ve earned every pain, every ache, with the bad decisions I’ve made. But seriously, self, this is the worst “joke” I’ve ever played upon myself!

And no, I’m not looking for outside help or explanations here; I “get” what the labyrinth expects: my shit, my problem, my dilemma to work out. I’m only writing here to record the steps I’ve taken, leaving breadcrumbs to mark my way. Taking note of all the other scratches, marks, and indicators of the many times I’ve passed this way. This one part of the puzzle has me stymied, to be sure, but I’m certain (absolutely certain!) that there must be a way!

Every other test I’ve faced has involved letting go, or moving on, so how do they apply? Other than the obvious which would be to simply die? But even that solution is not available to me, at least not at this time. But with time now proven to be irrelevant…

“Damn! And I’m right back where I started!” Once again…

And the labyrinth chalks up yet another win…

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