I probably shouldn’t be blogging right now. My mind is threatening a meltdown. The upcoming concerts I’m anticipating are wreaking havoc on my ability to remain calm. My thoughts are running at warp speed, so there’s little chance I’ll stay on topic today. If glimpsing someone else’s mindmap in raw form disturbs you, this is your signal to bail. You’re welcome. 🙃
I wish people would add links to their blog on their WordPress profiles. I can’t believe I’m going to be in the same space as Beyoncè and Jay Z. Damn. My hands are shaking again. What the hell? I can sense my mom’s spirit scolding me for being a fangirl. (It still stings.) I used to get in trouble for loving people too eagerly. Is it weird I so rarely relate to others on a physical level? Survey says, duh. (+10 for consistency.)
If there were an awards ceremony for being weird, I’d be getting lifetime achievement props (while grinning at the wrong camera via satellite.) Dammit. 😁 Be good at whatever you do. My dad told me that when I was bawling because the neighbor kids told me I don’t play right. After that, I took pride in how well I organized all the Barbie accessories; (/acceptance speech).
I heard a cutoff bit of commercial by
Autism $peaks yesterday. I equate the organization to a bumper sticker that reads; Your kids’ autism paid for my kids’ education, rehab, and bail! Sigh. People are very human. Regardless of how holier than thou, we believe ourselves to be, we still opt to be naughty whenever the opportunity presents. Most of us merely restrict our behaviors to that which we’re confident we can commit without consequence or shame. (It’s just that some don’t seem to feel shame at all.)
The naughty gene is universally present in warmbloods, it seems. At least those I’ve managed to observe. We despise this in others despite possessing it ourselves. Human and hypocrite are synonyms. Society determines the threshold of tolerance in all instances. We reset every time we awaken. No wonder it’s so arduous for me to see people. They continuously change before my eyes. I haven’t trusted vision since I was 11.
A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin continues to dominate my reading time. I purchased the first seven seasons of the HBO series recently, and I’m reading and watching daily. When the series strayed from the novels, I got out of sync, and am now much further ahead with the books than the series. Reading is much more intense for me. Yay. I learned how to marvel at the FX when things get all stabby, instead of getting triggered. (I’m pretty sure I long-blinked through the beheading scenes, though.)
There’s an underlying theme to the characters resembling a priest who broke faith before ever taking vows. Reading of the human condition in such varied and well-developed imaginings tickle me all the way through. George R. R. Martin sees people very well. My mom’s spirit is already scolding me for fangirling over it. I want to scream; it’s impossible not to love people when you honestly see them! Hello! And on top of everything, Fleetwood Mac is coming to Sioux Falls! Those seven words are playing on a non-stop loop in my head in Stevie Nicks’ voice. Yes. There’s a dance to go with it. 💜 I’m off to beat my drums with sticks. ✌🏽