Hmm? Oh, right.

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Such strange dreams, again.  As an analogy, imagine walking into an aviary at night, while all are asleep.  Mkay?  Then dropping your flashlight, both making noise and triggering from spot to daylight-like lantern mode.  Mkay?  The cacophony that could erupt?  That... you... I am causing, then sensing, a disturbance in the force.  At times, I infuriate women.  Other times it is men.  Sometimes it is both.  Sometimes I loose them, one sex, or even individual, upon the others.  I... don't do, with intent, I'll remind you, I just... do.  Or, at this time.  I really did this time.  I am receiving a flood of conflicting spots of dreams and thoughts.  I touched a nerve (bundle), or dozen, on every side.  War has been loosed.  You ought to see when I try.  The truth will set you free.


Oddly, I sometimes forget you are out there.  I am not sure why some of you, most of you, remain.  This has become a part of my mind.  When you visit, you do not receive the courtesy of forebearance one might expect in public civil discourse.  You get raw think-feel.  Why do you visit, if you disagree to the point of hatred?  I forgive, if you can request.  Heck, request it of God...  He'll spot for us.  But... why subject yourself to truth if you are too weak to look into the sun?  Oh, your dreams betray you.  Check.  And mate.

Feel welcome.  Don't think I hate.  Don't worry.  I just don't always understand.  I would truly like to understand why some would gather so close to the fires of truth while attempting to deny the truth and the pain.  I am here because I truly sought.  And God gives what is rightly asked.  Even, perhaps especially, if it hurts.  The truth hurts like nothing else, but is the only path to ascension.  If you don't believe, why burn?  Was it Saint Ambrose who suggested, at one time, "Give me chastity, and sobriety, just not yet."?  Perhaps... as with whichever Saint, you are biding your time.  Hurry the fuck up.  Amen.

Partly cloudy, but still pretty hot.  I am hoping to do more.  One more window to sand.  I hate making noise on the Lord's day, but due to my conditions and situation, my ass is in a hole.  I either work when I can, must, or don't work.  I am pretty sure He knows I have months of Sundays, so any day must be whatever day it must be.  He went through that when Becoming.  Time and space are gifts.  Becoming, but without those comforts, allowed Him to take pity upon us, to give us structures within which to form. I... have seen the hole He was in.

Anyway, if it cools enough, I hope to get to indoor and outdoor work.   Good day.