Always living in multiple worlds. More experiential than existential. A caveman in a previous life, my genes still hear the call of the wind, sky, water. Kill to eat only, hope to be buried in dirt so I can contribute in kind. Love to be in others' worlds, they all know so much, so much to learn and do and be, so I can remember who I am. I'm better at doing nothing than most. Reality is your own movie; as producer, director, writer and star, if you aren't getting a five star production then for heaven's sake lower your expectations. Having a daughter at forty triggered a getting real meltdown after years of comfortably numb. Now it is about moments on the edge; flourishing ideas, love, and expressing it all as some spiritual device compells me. Now if I can get through this without flaming out in a red convertable: just another tragic mid-life crisis, then I may get to move to the next level. At least I'm playing the game at near max. difficulty, scuz' me while I kiss the sky. There are some very lovable and loving people out there, amazing that our baser instincts, greed jealousy, hate win out. I'm out to change that, I've had quite enough. There is magic in all of God's pieces connecting and realizing consciously that that is what we are, weird and wonderful. Time to push the envelope; time has begun this crazy speedwarp of change so very rapid that it whirls like Wonka's boat ride. Expressing love averts meltdown, evolves us past this developmental crisis of a species where we stand poised on an abyss of mutually assured self-destruction, but enough about me...
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