I’ve been blathering here for nearly half an hour, and nothing even remotely coherent has come forth.
I’m not stopped up. I’m just…quiet.
I do not have the time that I want. I do not have the freedom that I want. I do things I don’t care about. And, I’m progressing at a moderate pace in all directions that I care about — all the directions that, eighty years from now, I will feel sharp remorse for not pursuing; Michael, wife, book, health, in no particular order. Or the order changes with the time and need.
*pause*
Something is most assuredly happening to me, or has happened. I am not normally this “clear”, in a strictly Scientologist sense of the word. Hrm.
As an aside, does anyone have a link to the practice of Australian aboriniginal hunting parties to take on four distinct roles, those being Warrior, Leader, Mystic, and Clown?
So I’ll sit quietly and companionably with you. Reading Vacuum Flowers again, hmm?
Nope, explaining the tetrad to Michael.