It seems to me that the what the whole ‘normal’ world is feeling now is what I have been feeling since I was at least three years old. It’s nuts. A mad pandemic. Of a nasty freakin’ Flu. Not even Ebola.
Welcome to my world, my consciousness, my day-to-day reality of mind. The only difference between us is that the reason for your angst is visible to the rest of the materially-oriented world. Now, it is. Now that there’s a visible pandemic. As opposed to the pandemic of lost attention and other issues that have been plaguing us as long as I can remember.
Those of us who are psychic have been feeling this angst for a long while. A different kind of pandemic, much worse than the Spanish Flu or the current financial predicaments forecast. Imagine that.
Live through this flu thing. Through this crazy, economic wildcard. Find your way, your purpose, your faith, your reality, your money. Go ahead. Try it. Grow up, stop hoarding, stop sniveling, find a truly useful and healthy way to earn a living, and wonder a bit about those of us who felt the illness the whole of our lives, and are still clinging, decades and painful decades, half a century of this anguish, later. Still trying to maintain a shred of integrity, of dignity, of sanity, through the madness of a world unhinged.
Isn’t it time to think about what’s really important? Death is not the worst thing that can happen to a person. Not by a long shot. Call me a Karen, ’cause I’m not a Boomer, but better yet, call me Sarah Connor, because I’m ready, and it’s not due to hoarding. I’m a badass, because I’m still alive and thriving in some semblance of style and confidence, and damn the invisible torpedoes that the rest of the sleeping world can FINALLY see.
And, by the way, after standing in line for 10 minutes at Costco for toilet paper 40 minutes before opening, as the photo above shows, I chose to leave and trust the same force that has kept me together for so long, for my needs.
After all, there is always the Japanese portable bidet. Or, ‘smooth stones’, like I heard on the radio. I find it so interesting that of all the things people could be hoarding (antibiotics, cough medicines, seeds, pet food, photos of loved ones,) the thing that humanity seems most worried about is how to wipe its own ass.
Maybe it’s a message from God that Somebody has been Consuming more than Nature is willing to abide, or provide for.
Normally I wouldn’t post this, but nobody reads what I fucking write so fucking hell. What’s the point anyway. If even my nearest dearest can’t be bothered to read a five minute blog post, what hope is there that anyone will read an entire book by me, which is what I’ve hinged my whole will to live on? (I only say this freely because I’m not going to tell them about this post, ergo, no guilt.) I send my occasional blog posts to my siblings, my closest friends, my spouse. Each and every one of these dear ones, bless their hearts, says, ‘I’m busy right now, but I promise to read it tomorrow!’
And surprise! They never (or rarely, to be fair) do, except on pain of embarrassment by followup. Oh, the bane of scattered attention. Of attention less available than toilet paper, than water, than anything that matters. The curse of the modern world, of no attention available for what is important. There is only enough attention for that which we ABSOLUTELY, ON PAIN OF SEVERE PAIN, MUST pay attention to.
Attention. Nothing is more important. It has never been more important than it is now. Do you see how your attention is being manipulated? Do you have the ability to control your own attention? Do you even know what you would apply it to, if you could choose?
I love you anyway. I understand. It’s not easy to see and mitigate that which conditions us.
The only exception is my dearest spiritual friend, Darlene. I love you Darlene. May you find enough toilet paper to fulfill your needs eternally, and all the rest too. Same for everyone else, even if you can’t find the time to do what is most important for the well-being of your beloveds.