language

Sometimes I wonder if the whole game here of the psyop is to drive those of us with our eyes open absolutely insane. Everything is on it's head. But my life looked that way before. Before the invisible headless monsters came to town.

I had established a tough boundary and paid a very dear price for doing so.

The work I had to do to keep from submerging was constant and intense. As heavy objects were hurled at me in a wave so large I could hardly identify it as such.

It seems I am an excellent swimmer. Of this I had no doubt, but also no real understanding.

From what I have come through I have found that I need tough boundaries. Some surprise me beautifully in their ability to do their own work, understanding what is their's to hold and not mine.

Some rip their claws through my flesh leaving me a bit bloodied for awhile. Mostly I experience backs turned and a coldness and shunning that is hard to describe. I would think it was gentle as it is completely silent. But I have come to learn that something silent can be deafening in it's brutality.

I had stepped out of an old life not consciously realizing the wave was still sweeping over me and there would be more heavy objects thrown my way. When I came to this place.

I was feeling brave and ready to step into the unknown and let myself find out who I was outside of what had turned into a very toxic bubble of marriage.

And then the headless monsters came to town and all opportunities were lost.

I just woke from a nap and found myself, not unusually, bereft. I made my way downstairs as the sun was coming through a western window and bathing me in it's warmth, as it made it's way down before the light here began to dim.

It is so peaceful here, so quiet. I can get happily immersed in the way a particular insect crawls across my window screen. Noticing it's stillness, then how incredibly slowly it can move. One day I noticed this particular insect was moving more quickly as it was caught between the screen and the glass of the window. It seemed to be looking for a way out. It seemed to be experiencing anxiety. I opened the window and caught it with a small container and a stiff piece of paper and took it outside.

The porcupine has become more relaxed. Stretches up onto it's back legs, scratches it's belly and then strips a raspberry stalk of it's goodness. Sometimes it does a full body shake.

I am a quiet witness, happily feeling somewhat inconsequential. My human existence becomes more simple here, still, quiet.

Wandering out into the world of other humans, sometimes masked, sometimes not, likely jabbed, possibly not, I am friendly. Talking to whoever crosses my path. Wondering later will these same folks die of hemorrhagic fever? Or something slower? Or am I the one being played in an elaborate attempt to drive me insane, in this upside down world, this massive psyop?

Feeling inconsequential in this quiet place gives me solace. I am simply part of this and nothing more. I did have a quiet conversation with a beautiful muscular white cat that visits me from time to time and seems to have rid my house of it's mouse population.

I spoke gently to it on the other side of my closed window as we sat looking at each other for the longest time.

I felt that familiar feeling calling within me, 'please don't leave me, please come back.'

The cat had disappeared for many months and I had found clumps of stiff white fur tinged with pink over the winter. So I thought it might have met it's end. Maybe in a brawl with something larger. To see this cat again was a beautiful surprise tinged with panic.

I wonder if I will ever understand the conversation of the words unspoken beneath the torrent of words said. Or the words never spoken for the language is something else altogether.

Will my boundaries soften and my being feel a little more consistently whole. Will my heartache ease some.

Or will just knowing I am part of and not supreme commander come more and more into my being so I can hear the conversation I have always heard that get lost under the torrent of words or the backs turned in a deafening silence.