Nearly noon. Just returned from a Kroger run. Out of sorts – assume it is the combination of medicines with the steroid for poison ivy. Quite warm and you are dreading mowing the grass with the ivy – too much perspiration does not mix well with the itchy red blotchy rash now on both arms and face.
Last night I thought about “Chapter 19” of Moby Dick. I always take the point of view of Ishmael not Elijah. I do not think I ‘saw’ a Form – I had a glimpse of something (almost unconsciously). I still think it was between the ages of four and seven. It was something ‘Real’ that could not exist. I remember mentioning this to the psychologist during the hypnosis sessions in the eighties. He listened but dismissed it (I think) as a childhood fantasy – too much imagination. This diagnosis appears quite reasonable but for my inner stubbornness that whatever it was, was real to me. Perhaps it is nothing more than the need of a validation of a self-branding for the sake of individual growth as a child, and now as an older adult. I have no trouble accepting such.
Still, you find it necessary to write.
It is nothing more than a mark that, fiction or not, I exist at present. Rather childish, silly and arrogant all at once. The truth though is that ‘Reality’ is a sincere personal interest. There is more to this world than we have discovered, much more, and to ourselves as a species, I am sure of it. This presents a personal challenge to me as I have a lot of time on my hands and like to think and feel on it. Sometimes when I close my eyes I see the faces of people I do not know. They do not see me observing them. People from all walks of life from all around the world – individual human characters with individual facial characteristics. I see their eyes up close at times as if I were the mirror of their humanity and I realize it is the other way, they are the mirror of my own humanity. The key is in our humanity. I am interested in that key, mostly, I imagine, for my own self-interest.
These books take you beyond the mirror, old man. Alice has nothing on you. Relax. We will work with Merlyn a bit later. Post.- Amorella.
Almost dusk. The grass is mowed but a bit on the back and sides which you’ll do tomorrow. In about an hour you will be off the within a half mile of Kings Island to watch the fireworks, which are doubled in length tonight and tomorrow night. Fireworks every night at King’s Island. Nice, when Kim was young, on a whim, over you’d go. You bought summer passes back then, and used them.
My arms have moved into a deeper purple where the bright red blotches were this morning. They itch and burn but the tide is turning, the ivy will be gone by the end of the week. I waited until the shade of the house covered the front yard, it was hot but without the direct sunlight, it was better. Shades of the Grand Canyon won’t leave me in this lifetime. Who would have thought two days stuck in the bottoms of the Grand Canyon in June, 1960 would change one’s body chemistry for a lifetime, but it sure has.
Almost twenty-hundred hours. Post. – Amorella.
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