November 22, 2017 (4)

The snot that I just blew out of my nose landed on my blanket, but I don’t mind. The red fleece blanket which I carry in my car and the one spread below me now. On the grass by the pond, by the field, by the house, beside the cat. The cat that was petted after realizing she is there. 

…the first line was true; I do not mind. Yet also is allegorical, because it relates to my last blog post:

The snot is my truth. 

The blanket is the world. 

The world does not appreciate dirty snot. 

Though the relief of snot is natural and relieving to the individual. 

The aim was not to dirty the world, but to expel the toxic entity from within. 

The blanket can still be washed, therefore I do not care. The world may be cleansed in the same fashion. 

Now that freedom has been given — health may prevail. 

The escape from little kids just occurred and now deje vu is occurring and it bothers me to realize this. Is this a time which I should change course and go back to play with kids or remain in seclusion to write my thoughts? The escape haunted throughout the last few lines of allegory, but the deja vu only occurred when thinking of my destination of retreat. 

…the questions that follow are to the effect of:

  • Was that meant to occur?
  • Is the hasteful retreat too sudden with too little explanation to the children?
  • I feel like an asshole. 
  • I feel like I did the proper thing. 
  • I feel I didn’t do it properly. 
  • What should I do now?
  • If I’m now just going to mull over the things that I avoid, is it worth avoiding?
  • I yanked the blanket to topple a kid, but not too hard to hurt.
  • Should I apologize to the kids or just explain that I need alone time to recover?
  • I already explained that I was doing classwork; as if I’m in school but that is not true enough for their ears. 

Then looking back on life as to what I would likely do brings the idea that maybe I should do the opposite of the past. To right the habits of the past, but which thing is proper to correct. I forgive and forget because I’d have forgotten anyway; or would I still remember my persecutors if I did not forgive; or are the memories still trapped behind the wall that was built to protect my inner being? Do I remain hiding away, packing my thoughts into my head? — yet, I release them here again as I once did to an individual who helped me forgive the assholes from my past. I have forgiven them all, early in the path where I now find myself walking. Limping at times or skipping with joy. The release of my forgiveness happened on one day, where I vividly recall the story. The vivid details of my own, not of the surroundings or buildings or non-essential details for they did not matter. The only matter was the forgiveness and a realization. 

…so in that, should I continue on that journey? Or allow the world to determine my reasons to do, or flow with my own reasoning and follow my path that leads to the unknown but a more related unknown to my skeptical mind? To embrace the ideas of all, looking within — not just looking without, the external answers that never completely answer all the details. 

Okay, the deja vu is such a crazy sensation that I, now will go with my gut as it occurs. Which is to stop the moment it occurs…stop whatever I am doing to look up, around, and within to see if perhaps the deja vu is a warning or a fork that sits in the path. 

…I picked up the fork and looked at it. Decided to set it down and examine it. To think of why it appeared and what did it mean? Did someone else drop it or is it actually mine and I have been down this path once before without realizing? 

…The action to pick it up, place it in your pocket, and continue down your path; only to give it to someone later as a token of musing is the normal one. 

……but to ever examine what exactly was the reason for the placement of the fork is the tricky route. Who would you even ask to gain a clue, if the path is ancient and unridden—often. Then who initially dropped it. 

As for now, the whole incident has changed my reality in that I have no clue where my mind was headed before the instant that the whirl in my head occurred; the whirl of my soul perhaps. 

I shall return to the house and likely play with kids a bit. All will be well, but all is still in the air and unknown. Yet it will be well as I will continue to attempt to make it well. 


Wednesday, the night before Thanksgiving 

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