I’m still lucking out
No matter what the circumstance I am still lucking out.
Been near death a few times and been near the edge of the universe and no matter what happens I have always been able to find my way back. I know it wasn’t just me through all of these journeys and adventures. I know Annie Cosmic was right there through it all. I remember the day she showed up. I had been run over by the black GTO full of junkies and Satan worshipers. She was wearing a beautiful yellow sundress with sunglasses on. I was sold right there and then on whatever she was here to sell me. Apparently she was here to sell me my life back. To give me back my refurbished soul.
That was the day that reality and fiction melded into one and it has not changed since.
There have been too many times when I have been comatose, lost to both elements of the infinite universe, drifting in and out and never knowing what was real and what was fabrication and still having trouble figuring out if some of it wasn’t real.
Scattered on the lawn were all of her baby dolls. She had crucified them all and left them in the puddles that had come from the torrential rains and winds. There were large branches all over the yard and two trees had fallen down, one into the garage.
The tornadoes came right down Main Street. It was two of them and they tore a line of destruction through our little town like nothing anyone had ever seen.
Somehow the crucified dolls survived and were waiting for the next adventure that they would go on.
The Angels have been there with me for a long, long time and they protected my family and me though a tremendous amount of ups and downs either brought on by my actions or by some other misadventure.
They Angels now move between my first wife, my daughter, my grandson, my daughter’s wife, my mom, my two brothers who have nothing to do with me, (just because they are being asses at this moment doesn’t mean that they are not protected) and of course my youngest brother, dear brother, his two boys, my brother’s wife and her family.
There are others from as small as pea to as large as a city.
We had a world there on Middle Pike with farm animals and horses and implements of work and toil and sometimes destruction. It seemed one of the Amish dad’s was always flipping an Allis Chalmers over on top of them or a bull got angry and gored to death someone or some poor bastard just fell off of or through or down something and was damaged or dead.
You learn about death quickly on a farm. You don’t kill individually. You run your cattle or pigs up ramps where they are shot in the head and taken to be butchered.
Your sheep you first shave off all of their wool then you kill them for their mutton.
Cattle have a tendency sometimes to get stuck in their own shit and will stand in the heat and sun until they actually swell up and die and when you hook up to them with a tractor and wench to move them they simply come apart and explode.
Is there anyone who really believes that, if, there really was a God, one Supreme Being in charge and responsible for all of this that he she or it would be doing these things that are going on?
We have lost our way Jeb O Devine. We are wandering nomads in our minds and the third eye that allows us to see your world has been covered with a veil for many centuries’ moons because we were unfaithful to loves when it was opened the last time. Oh yes we used to be able to move between these worlds and intersect and interact with the residents of each universe but just as we have proven on the planet that they put us on we are a destructive species of creatures. It seems that we act like a virus where our direction and purpose is to merely feed, breed and destroy.
Slow Saturday.
Weather is hell.
Locked inside like criminals.
Our only crime was living to high.
We just wanted everything life had to offer.
Who know there was an idiot savant in charge checking it all out?
Who exactly is on first?
Of course he was disappointed. It’s like he’s being punished for something. Maybe not being the best brother possible. I just don’t know and I don’t know how to approach it because, well when family is involved it’s just a journey through the matrix with nothing but your dick in your hand.
When dealing with one’s family there are just nothing but negative energy and emotions going in a hundred directions and none of those directions are leading to a good answer so you look for the best possible answer but also know that the best possible answer does not satisfy the ultimate conclusion to the problem and the problem is now completely understood. The light at the end of the tunnel is in your face. The whole thing comes down to communication. There is no possible way of communicating effectively with family when all ideas and ideals, philosophies and badges of honor and dishonor have already been given. When the one member has finally taken his family back to the hills and doesn’t give a damn what the rest think. It makes the rest of us angry and we want to blame his wife when we know it’s a group fuck up.
Of course I am avoiding the real issue here. I am not in a position to lose any more of my support group.
Just let me slither back under my rock here and I will shed tear to moisten my shell and eventually I will sleep.
I cannot be trusted to be left to my own devices a hundred percent. At least seventy five percent of the time I am doing wonderfully well. That other twenty five percent is where I am a psychotic addict who has absolutely no regard for my safety and wellbeing.
This is where I need my guardian angels.
Yea, yea... Been a good day. Not as bad as I thought it was going... thinking of dad and a picture mom had of him standing in front of his Texico in West Jefferson. He looked so much like a man that would work at Texico in the picture. He was standing tall and smiling. Factory offered more money. Couldn't just ignore the possibilities. Third shift was calling him. The widow maker shift.
I should know
I ended up working it for ten years and it left me dead and useless.
Anyway, yea here we go…
I think about dad at strange times. It’s like a memory will just pop up out of nowhere like, I remember the old man and Ed cutting wood. We cut wood with a John Deere tractor with a long belt hooked to a saw blade that was unbelievably tall. Usually it was a John Deere A.
The A had some ass to it so the blade really whizzed, well actually it was a deep hum, or no, buzz, yea a deep buzz. It was a frightening sound.
My complaining just meant dad would over load me with broken bales or some other catastrophe that wasn’t anything near that so I wasn’t keeping up with Paul either. Paul was always on the other end. Paul wool get a second order of food and place it next to him to make sure he had sufficient ass kissing goodies. Paul was always proving himself as a better farmer then I was. I didn’t want to be a farmer. Too bad my teachers were louses and drunks. I think I would have really got into faming. I feel it’s too late now
I don’t know to this day why one of us didn’t like cut off fingers, or hand, arm, cut completely in half! Dad and Ed were always drunk. That is why they put me and Paul up on the belt close to the blade. Every time a piece of wood would go through with a knot in it the blade would cease up and eventually shut down the John Deere or snap the belt or the bade itself woud start to roll in a direction until something stops it. Most of the time when the blade came lose it would just fly off and parts were flying everywhere. This is when people got hurt.
I’m sick of this place and I may have to stay a while longer while home health gets all of their ducks in a row. The assisted living takes as long as in home health so why would I do assisted living and then home health. By the time I get to home health I should be doing ok on the assisted living stuff and be ready for a place of my own,
I suppose I can handle this for a little while longer. Just find ways of occupying my time.
cool peace
hippy mike
love
spirit
groovy