Uncensored

Much
I see the mass of people and I know I do not want to be like them. Mindless, bubbleheaded, Empty, carefree and striding to the nearest billboard to find out what they want and who they are. Hands full of empty straws. Unable to touch each other, for fear they might have to feel and think for themselves. Often, it really appears, that they are nothing but a surface, minor reflection of who someone told them they are.
 I fill with pity for they. As I plumb my depths with hook, line, sinker, flashlights and prods.
What I want, you cannot buy.
Who I am, you cannot fathom.
Water, ether, fire, rain, sky, clouds over
Been interesting.
Calmed down much after mon therapy. Not sure why, how that works, anyway.
Took a dollar bill and ripped it up, metaphorically, visually, I get discouraged this time of year, watching the race for pacifying baubles...if you loved me, you'd buy me....this. As if....
Word searching. Lost the internal censor whereby I would play, run through words to say before Id say them. I'm living on a new edge.
It was a trap, the censor, made to question, doubt, second-guess, what's in my heart, (taps chest) and in my head (taps forehead lightly). Lack of self-confidence, a closed heart and handfuls of family fed doubts, taught me to misbelieve in Meself.
Tons of internal energy, light moving, opening, touching dark recesses, filling long-empty voids.
 It's felt ok to just spout, say whatever, without forethought. It be strange, and i watch the faces to see if my words are in line with a semblance of normal. Feels ok. Looks ok. Feels strange, not having to have my own permission to speak. Not doubting myself...new.
 Yup, words are some what disarrayed now. Makes sense, they flow now...instead of stopping to be filtered through a few times. Times...many times...not sure what to say. Silence, gaps, not awkward.
Sometimes no answer. Ha, other times words raw, irreverent, lots of funny, harsh...all from the new revealing.
 I know. Me write funny:) I could either take my time and try and write like others...or, I can write how it sounds in my head, which I prefer. I prefer my way, what feels right to me, than trying to ft in and do it your way so you feel good and don't beat me.
 I can repeat things if I want. I don't necessarily need to work so hard to mentally track every conversation I had ever had.
 Writing keeps being interspersed with images....hands examining keys....
That's funny, I have my retainer in, so in my inner voice, that I'm dictating from, I hear me "talking" with my wicked retainer lisp. That also explains why I write different now.
So much has transpired. Much I cannot share, put words to, really.
I do get quite....frustrated, sad, at the overt consumerism, materialism, choke full ads and needy greedy babies, and what is actually important......what gets lst under the pretty paper and the bows....people just need other people to care. Children are starving, men are homeless, women beaten in shelters, animals cold, hungry and homeless....it's so thoughtless, what the tv and radio and newspapers are promoting. So empty. It's like a disease....I want this and I want that and I need to buy uncle this and auntie has to have that.....so empty (head down sad).
Just smile at someone, just talk nice polite respectful. Put money in the red can with bells. Care about someone other than yourself. Bake a cookie. Give an impish wink. Buy a toy, donate. You see someone in need, help. Be nice. There needs to be more of that. Stop wanting what you don't need to try and fill the emptiness. You just need more love, attention, self care, friends, spirit.
Unfiltered, I seem more like myself. It's okay to say what's in your heart (gently touches chest).....it's okay:)