Rambling Man AKA Roma Tomatoes, Feta Cheese, and Balsamic Vinegar

Every summer I die and swoon over garden tomatoes and balsamic vinegar. Gimmie gimmie acid to alkalize? I’m not sure what it is about this combination that makes me like an addict that can’t get enough, but here I am, again. Maybe I like to add in some bread, cheese, avocado, or wine now and then. Although, I’ve decided avocados are mucous producing (more than cheese even), so I’m avoiding them for now. I’m sort of even grossed out by them at the moment.

Ascension process post-fifth world:

Oh, so you thought you’d ascended did you little one? Ha! That was just a layer of the fucking onion.

Why, well, um, thanks?

As far as manifestation, in 2009, especially the second half of 2009, whatever your heart’s desire, BHAM! there it is! Paradise truly felt like paradise. Except for that whole pesky, “I’m going to get laid off at some point in the next few to several months” thing.

2010 felt mostly like either “I’m lost. Where are the damn maps!?! Where is the captain?” or “I’ve made a horrible, grave mistake.”

2011 was like “Holy mother-fucking shit balls!!!!!!!!”

2012 was like “I can’t take this anymore! Please oh please, please please please. Okay, um house? Check (finally about time!)” I also came to realize there’s this happy little place between the Pacific Ocean, Sacramento, Reno, and Medford/Bend that I really ought to stay in. I can go further south, but only if I’m in the mountains or desert. The San Joaquin Valley is freak out time. The Bay Area is to be avoided. East of the Mississippi lies hell. I need to stay put. I’m in love with the land. I don’t get it. That’s just the message. I’m in love with the man that came with the land. I’d abandon things I’d placed on my bucket list at age 4 (didn’t know you called it a bucket list back then) to come home to him.

2013, you realize that you are the navigator of the ship you’re on. You knew that before, but your partner, who you thought was the captain is actually only the chef. You are on a ship, alone in the cosmos with a navigator and a chef. You know where you are, or how to get where you think you are going anyhow and you have delightful food and drink along the way. Maybe you don’t need a captain if the war is over, and what do first mates do anyhow?

I’m really having a time right now of feeling secure because I feel like the majority of the planet is still where I was pre-2008 (or not even on the freaking map, staircase, etc.). Therefore, society finds me of little worth. Since I am not a producer or maker or robot or cog, I get nothing. Everything is still scarcity and lack. Since abundance is old hat, I’m disconnected. My faith is weak. I feel I am fighting still to keep the masses from sucking me under. The battles continue. I believe, but when everyone around me is NO NO NO NO NO, well… what that does to a being….


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