Mask- no mask, conspiracy-no conspiracy, fear-love, benevolent universe-hostile universe. In this time of polar opposites pulling on one another in a chaotic grand finale of duality, sometimes all one can do in a human body to stay sane is to scream at the top of one’s lungs. It is a primal scream that says, “What the Fuck!!!!! There is NO way through, No way out, No way in, There is NO Path that I can find here like a wolf that jumps and nips at the air when it has lost the scent of its next meal. This is what it feels like to be on planet Earth right now inside of my human skin. And it feels good to articulate this not because there is any resolution to any of it but just because naming the cluster fuck of conflicting emotions is actually therapeutic. It is amid the complete insanity that I find a piece of sanity. I don’t really think I even have more to say. Maybe this will be a very short blog post, the kind you write in the waiting room, waiting for something. I know not what. Jason, is the train really coming or are we just descending into endless hell. I wonder. And my video program upon which I have invested so much time into a project has just decided to malfunction holding the fate of my project in its hands. I am having to find work arounds to try and get my project finished. But maybe the universe is giving me a message. Maybe I am off track investing my mind’s energy into anything. And yet, I seem unable to just let everything go. Can’t I have anything except nothing. This great nothingness that seems to come for me again and again and tell me that my feet belong on its ground…. Come on! Don’t I get to use my mental hands for anything? I have given up so much, again and again, I drop everything thing for her when she tells me I must. I was living under the illusion that there was still something left for me to plan for, to create on this Earth that could serve my community and bring a flow of money. Do you not now that that is what I need at this time, something to focus on creating. If not this, then what? My life is always in your hands. I know there is a larger arc that determines my every move, but can’t you give me something meaningful to myself to participate as you move the bigger galactic and planetary chess pieces? And the video program takes its time to coallate all the files of video and audio. So I have more time to flow out thoughts and words to ask, “Why?” Why why why. This game is getting sooo old, like old stinky socks. I don’t want to play anymore. Fires and drought and extinction and death and human trafficking and people pitting themselves against people in their minds eclipsing the great heart that is our truth as one humanity. This world of the great forgetting is really bumming me out as of late. I am so grateful for unemployment checks and yet, life feels so absolutely futile and purposeless. I am feeling intense rage at everything that made this place. I want to go home where unity reigns supreme and all is in its benevolent oneness outpressing like a sweet symphony of ease and grace. I am mentally fatigued beyond a level that I can even begin to describe. What a ride. Are we there yet? And could it be that I have stayed awake long enough in the darkness that I might actually be feeling sleep calling me, the sleep that never called all night as I layed their in total protest. Never again will I persist being horizontal when there is no sleep to be had. I will rise and do something, anything but not attempt the futile goal of doing the opposite of what the body is asking for. I ended that sentence with a preposition. Mom is hunched over can’t walk. I bought here that great product but she won’t take it til she has her blood work done. Sam has to get his hand smashed once a year just to do the art of his music. What a fucking hell hole! When Frank and I get stuck in our heads and lose the connection to our hearts love, it feels just horrible, more horrible now than I have ever remembered in all our nearly 24 years together. Jason, is the train really coming? What the fuck. The video is still not done, and now I feel my colon ready to let go of a wee bit of shit… So constipated lately. Sylvie doesn’t talk to me on the phone just an isolated snippet of text or voice… doesn’t respond to me when I call out in longing. It is like frozen bridge between us that she won’t cross. I am tired of trying and Brad has dropped off the face of the Earth. What gives?
Sarah Hope Adams 