Early afternoon. You and Carol have been busy with Brennan though when he took an hour nap you did too. Carol read her book. Brennan has been fed and may be ready for another nap. If so you are off to Horseshoe Pond for an hour or so of reading for Carol and writing for yourself. Your blood pressure has been on the low average lately while glucose varies between 102, 125 with a high of 146 this morning. Your weight is in the 270's but you can't get below it without a starvation diet. Your last A1c (a couple of weeks ago) was 6.3.
1306 hours. I am ready to finish this section of The Dead. It is interesting. When I write it is like I have been in Merlyn's shoes, so to speak. Self-hypnosis, no doubt, and imaginary projection. I can sit here in the chair and visualize Merlyn's surroundings. The river between the trees, the blue bells to white daisies to red poppies. That's about it looking north. That's all I have in my head besides the hut (I conjure up a more rustic [no potbelly stove] Henry David Thoreau cabin. at Walden's Pond where we have seen the reconstruction.)
I notice too that Merlyn has a sun and water, so the second rebellion also took place; beginning at the time of Eisenhower's Farewell Speech.
Yes, the rebellion was over about the time you completed and self-published Merlyn's Mind. Post. - Amorella
1958 hours. I have completed the draft of "The Dead - 3".
So you have, and it fits the criteria to allow you to move on to "The Brothers - 3". Add and post. - Amorella
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The Dead - 3 ©2012 rho
The livingandead Merlyn stepped onto the slab of non-granite where he stationed his non-sitting stone, or throne, as he likes to call it; the non-home he once created for the etherial domain of his earthly spirit.
In HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither each spirit is allowed a private sanctuary of herorhis own rightful choosing. This is the primary reason the marsupial-humanoids chose to call this Place of the Dead, where Merlyn eventually found himself after physical death, HeavenOrHellBothOrNeither. The early twenty-first century earthly human spirits easily caught this linguistic flavor because the marsupial language has a function similar to the German -- the occasional verbal allowance concerned with a broader general definition of the noun. Here, among the Dead, one is not so empirical with the naming-of-things; at least one is no more empirical than one's own heartansoulanmind is. Science only goes so far. By definition the metaphysical world is too far.
The Place of the Dead uses the balanced spiritual sense of herorhis now realized full unconsciousness and consciousness to allow one's human spirit to decide the just worth and value of herorhis otherwise fragile and unearthly habitat. The gravity of one's judged self-worth and dignity holds the spiritual house balance together. Knowing one's self never had a deeper meaning. Balancing one's real self with who one was in life is not an easy matter. Many of the Dead, marsupial humanoids or earthlings, remain silent for good reason.
This fact provides a refreshing pause to the words "in the beginning" because physical death provides for an imaginative bodiless re-beginning for the 'human spirit' or the 'heartansoulanmind'. A few rules do apply. For instance, people know that in the physical universe nothing is free.
Keeping a spiritual balance has its price because in the metaphysical world nothing is free either. Everyone pays the Boatman, no matter who the spiritual entity is.
To the north of Merlyn's roughshod though comfortable wooden hut Merlyn sits on his smoothed stone chair. This throne rests on a well-laid granite slab to the immediate right of a large tall stately oak. Merlyn glances north into the entangled spiritual configuration of surrounding cloth, a securely woven cloth-like matrix to better dress the energetic and passionate backbone of Merlyn's heartansoulanmind.
To the northeast of his throne lie the moss-blotched two-foot high flagstone stage ruins on which he had first magically danced as a child. Around and beyond the stage are a continuation of Scottish meadow grass and flowers. Flower of color, a brush of bluebells and ox eyed white daisies to the left and a caress of white foxglove and red poppies to the stage ruin's right. To the further north a large stand of Scottish Pine grows grandly tall on a higher rising sloop.
On Merlyn's nearer right as he views north is a great bald granite dome. Skirting the granite mountain is a fence of purple heather. Watching the yellow sunrise over such a large and handsome dome of graveyard created stone is a continual reminder to Merlyn of how close in thought the physical universe lies. Merlyn thinks, 'this was once an unscalable scene by human and marsupial humanoid alike.'
The south of Merlyn's domain lies in a valley of thick forest scattered with hazel bushes and stands of birch. A small grove of apple trees delights his heart's eyes and stomach's mind. Further into southwest of Merlyn's druidic domain are two wild apple trees tapped on either side by red melancholy thistles.
To the west, not far from the hut and nearby granite slab on which Merlyn sits, he can see the slowly moving river slightly camouflaged by well-leafed young trees and bushes. Merlyn has one-man tanned leather and stick framed Celtic boat, a curragh, resting on the bank. On the other side of the fishable stream tall and more majestic oak stand.
Extremely satisfied with his ancient earthy projected surroundings, Merlyn glanced up beyond the blue and sun to see the faint outline of his basic chess-squared spirit threading his imagination and reasoning. Merlyn flashed on the reality of his entangled presence in the heartansoulanmind of present day Richard Greystone.
Glancing down at the reality of the stage ruins, Merlyn smirked slightly and thought of the Boatman who ultimately held the holistic awareness in all the higher consciousness of metaphysics and physics at bay. He grumbled, "my life continues in chapters." An astute Voice whispered in Merlyn's suddenly compromised spiritual ear, "You pay the Boatman just like everyone else, boy. No exceptions."
With that a fellow spirit appeared in his staged ruins. "Hello, Merlyn," said this human spirit once raised ancient Greek, "this is Sophia your friend and leader of the First Rebellion of the Dead."
Sophia begins to walk towards Merlyn and she stubs her right big toe on a rock in the meadow grass. She bends down to see what it is and puzzled she picks up a coal black marble ball from the rotted board side of the stage ruin.
Surprised, Merlyn first thinks, 'Sophia just stumbled onto the eight ball in my mind.' And, second, 'No need of mirrors here in the Place of the Dead.'
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