Blogs and such will become less and less as I chug along like another cogwheel in the workforce to help pay down my bills (or at least get a grip and a life for once after being laid-off since June 2007). This means learning how to go shopping for ‘professional’ clothes of the itchy materials– rayon and polyester (yuch) for next week’s cross-training with strangers that would sign off on my weekly time-sheet.
Tomorrow is attending morning Catholic mass with my bio-units. I plan to mail off my spare Orgonites to ‘Chris’ but have yet to respond to his PM in kind for over a week. Then there is this ‘Bluu’ person that I may PM for his interest in the ‘etheric wand’. But letting go of my precious stuff is difficult because I get possessive at times. It’s time to spread my purchase around.
‘Ducats’ is a new word, which sounds archaic to my modern hearing. As a fan-base, orgonite groupie, I’ve learned this word over the course of reading articles online. If I had more ducats to spare, this would be donated by the giving without hesitation as per that one blog. You know who you are and I’ve not forgotten to say: ‘You’re welcome. There is more to come surely.’
It’s my ‘super’-ego — the altruistic behavior of giving than receiving. Like sharing orgonite, I will admit to learn that whatever is given won’t be returned (per that Twit at the dining table during today’s Thanksgiving lunch). And my painful lesson is to take care of myself (whenever) as my own (I hate to say, deserving) kind by giving whatever abundance happens (if ever) comes my way.
For over seven years, I’ve participated in what I think is the biggest and hardest personal experience in this lifetime via ‘Liars Production’. I’ve waited too long to know that TPTB owes me frigging big time, in case you folks didn’t take a hint from my prior blogs and poems. My personal sacrifice is quite evident and is building up dust. I may soon clean up the mess the ‘hard way’ if the critical mass of my anger towards these entities is not tempered with patience and resolve of positive thinking.
But that should not the reason for my overall bitterness — the taste of wealth I would never come to know and the empty feeling left by the knowledge that others are not (or used to be) living the life of luxury. Once again, my memory foam mattress, home cooking by Maw and the ever present figure head of Paw all are blessings despite my undisclosed hardship to them. I am living a lie.
Hardships are not meant to be made public but when there is not enough ‘to survive’ this indicates a wake up call that something is not right and that help is needed. No amount of pride could be made worse than asking for something that didn’t come from one’s own hard work or was forced into a predicament not to one’s own choosing.
I remember telling a church lady (sitting across from me) on one day while my bio-units and I ate breakfast at the local McDonalds after church that: Love is unconditional. There is no ‘re-payment’. I blurted those sentences out and without thinking because I know this is true. Some people say whatever is based on their opinions or borrowed somewhere else by others’ creative thoughts and experiences.
These church folks pray too much repetitious stuff that my distracted mind would bleed from out my ear holes. But I sat and listened as my current place would dictate among the geriatrics of Filipinos who talk about how poor folks would make dire their situations in order to ask for handouts or how younger generations are more selfish and uncaring about traditions that won’t allow survival in today’s fast-paced environment.
Adaptation as a key to survival has been the theme. The survival of the fittest — where the weakest are weeded out to ‘strengthen the herd’ and where those who fall behind are left behind — I do not agree, though. I sincerely believe the divine is always present or the quarks for the more scientific minds. And that intervention by intent is always possible or by prayers to the unseen — this means having faith too.
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