It's like a hand rental....

So I have always been openly skeptical about psychics. 
Not that I don't believe that the possibility that there are forces, (or people who could tap into them), but more the dingy room profiting and playing on others hopes and wishes. 
Or the grand-standing and shameless cheating and manipulating of large venue money making shows like Crossing Over etc.   I think there is a special hell for those evil people.

So today I am driving by, and I think " I should get my palm read." 

I have no desire to know the future.  I couldn't care less about what anyone would have to "tell" me about the past.

However, I realized the thought behind the thought was pretty simple. 
                It's a great way to pay someone to hold hands with you without it being weird.

Then I became aware of how much I miss holding Lori's hand. I have reached for her subconsciously many times, then felt silly.         But up until that point, I never really objectively qualified the amount of time that we spent connected in that way.

It was a lot.  Like all the time.  More, I think, then what I see others do.
                I wonder if others thought we were weird?

I don't know how it started, but I am pretty sure that every single time we were together we held hands when we said grace before eating.

I would very often wake up beside Lori in the morning, and be holding hands . Often they  were almost sweaty, so I can only assume we must have been doing it for a period of time.

If she wasn't knitting, we held hands in the car. For hundreds of miles. 

She reached for my hand when we walked. On planes. In airports. In movies. In meetings.

It felt good. 

There were many nuances and messages. A slight squeeze and a subtle redirection of a finger to point out an odd person in the crowd. I knew when she liked a song or agreed with a point someone said. A warning twitch when I was putting my foot in my mouth, or being harsh.  A double tap when everyone was wading through the "where to eat" options, and she wanted help to sway the kid jury. A triple squeeze to let me know she was loving me. And yes, the dirty messages she would write with her finger, one letter at a time onto my palm, while I was supposedly paying serious attention to something else.

I'm sure this all adds into that "disconnected" feeling.

Maybe,

.... at some point the care bus comes around again. I hope it brings color back with it.

It is tiring...

It's like being on duty all the time. 
You are the only guard in this prison camp.
Villigence is the key word. Never let your guard down.

The prisoners must walk the plank.
Straight on. One in front of the other. Heel toe heel toe.
March straight on, and no one gets hurt.
And everything seems fine.
The warden and public are happy.

But drop your guard or let your attention waver one little bit,
And you"ll see just how narrow that plank is.
The thoughts, so tightly controlled, will start to wander
slipping off to the sides,
And you'll be over the edge in an instant.

One sodden failed mass.

No worries ......

I find it slightly disturbing that every time I pick up a gun, the thought

                                 "I'm coming, honey"

goes through my mind.

The chipmunks like the fact the scope is a blurry...

A hug was an event

This has been on my mind for the last couple of days

I am thankful for the memories of each of the countless times that Lori would suddenly just stop what she was doing, put it aside, and walk over and give me a hug.

                 ***** For no good reason.******

A book would be turned face down. 

Knitting set aside on the floor.  

The mixer left running and flour all over the counter.

My hugs were often more if I was passing by. 

               ---- She made hers an event-----

Not a lot of talk, no conditions, just an event that made you special

My advise:

Regardless what today was like, or last week, or even last year, stop the very important thing you are doing, ( like hanging out online ), get up and go find your Significant one and give them a heartfelt hug. 

You have better things to be doing. Do them now.

Strange days indeed....

Not sure why, but did not have it together yesterday. I think the worst day yet.

Oddly, I was productive, sat in the office and did all the things I meant to get done, which were lots of the things I hate.

Never got on top of it, spent a lot of the day with swimmy vision. Went back to bed 4 times.

Finally had a fire in the fire pit and tried to read, but the mosquitos came out. Lit some fireworks to smoke up the area, but the reality, of course,  is its better to have your best friend sitting by the fire with you.
.
.
.
Not really sure of the point of writing this either. Maybe it helps to get it out. Lori sure believed in a journal.

Waiting for the point that I stop dreading there is a tomorrow

I Just Realized I'm Homeless.....

I live at a house in Milford. 

When I reference that place, I find myself saying "I'm going to the house", or "I'm at the house".

I don't think, "I'm going home",  when I leave to go there.

I fully blame Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros for this.  It's that song of his called Home. 

We really felt it to be true, that home is wherever I'm alone with you.

I guess I will just be a street person.

                                 But I look forward to going home......

Honey

http://youtu.be/59BZxgohr9g

Exit stage left - June 8th, 2013

Olivia has left the building.

Not so cool with that. 

It's a new world, 

             but not a brave new world.

" everything is definitely not the same babylove "

                  Time to re-read Liseys Story

Wanna take a bath?

Day after day, love turns grey Like the skin of a dying man And night after night we pretend it's all right But I have grown older and You have grown colder and Nothing is very much fun any more. And I can feel one of my turns coming on. I feel cold as a razor blade Tight as a tourniquet Dry as a funeral drum Run to the bedroom, in the suitcase on the left You'll find my favourite axe Don't look so frightened This is just a passing phase Just one of my bad days Would you like to watch T.V. ? Or get between the sheets Or contemplate the silent freeway ? Would you like something to eat ? Would you like to learn to fly ? Would you ? Would you like to see me try ? Oh I don't know Would you like to call the cops ? Do you think it's time I stopped ? Why are you running away ?                           Pink Floyd -One of my Turns