Category Archives: Strange & Unusual

Me and my Rational Brain Debate. Todays Topic: Why There’s Vulva Eating in the Animal Kingdom

I’m watching the first episode of PeeWee’s Playhouse on Netflix just like any baby from the 80’s would do.

I worked for two hours today and now I’m delightfully enjoying my newly acquainted freedom.

Oh shit, Morpheus from the Matrix is playing a goofy cowboy and some animated fish just called a fat lady a whale.  The 80’s were wack.  They were wiggidy wiggidy wiggidy wack.

Melalecki high mecca high knee ho, wack.



I lost something very special to me a few days ago.  It was an epic blog post.

The above predilection of PeeWee’s Playhouse was all that I could salvage, and it’s the least epic part of the post.

It was a legendary debate between myself and my rational brain.  A superb, unequaled piece of art.  A post like that is hard to come by, at least on here it is, Melanie’s life online.

I almost decided never to write again.  Like losing a love that can not be replaced.  I can love no more.

But if you gave an immortal chimp a typewriter and told him to aimlessly punch the keys for infinity, it’s statistically proven that he’ll eventually write Hamlet word for word by random chance.

There’s many a possibility found in the great mystery.  You only need to find the right typewriter and by random chance, the words will come and eventually you’ll rip the horn off the unicorn to place it on your mantle.  Something that adds definition to your shining light.

You know that old saying, “if you want to be a good cook, you have to learn how to taste”?

No, of course you haven’t.  You haven’t heard of it because I just thought of it now.  But it sounds like it’s an old saying, right?

Know your secret spices, your ingredients.  You can’t be afraid of tasting just because you tasted something bad.  In this case, a lost blog post.

Too scared I’ll lose another and too tired of rewriting more of the same.  My taste buds become uninspired and acquiesce to the bland, safer flavors.

But man, I really miss that post….

It’s 10am on a blistery cold snowy day in February.

Here in New England, Connecticut to be precise, the temperature will rise next month by 10 degree’s.  In April they will rise again by another 10 degree’s.  It will keep rising by 10 degree’s until September when it starts going down by 10.  And it keeps going down by 10 until March.  Mathematicians who like symmetry would love living here.

One more month….

Brianna, my travel buddy, told me that female pigs can’t be placed in a pen together because the alpha female will eat the vulva’s of the other pigs.  I mean, they’d literally eat them – take a big bite out of them.  It made me sick to my stomach thinking about it.  The idea of it got me hating pigs.  They’re disgusting, vile creatures.


I told my parents about these nasty pigs over our exquisite Chinese buffet dinner and my dad told me that it’s not just pigs that do it, it’s a common occurrence in the animal kingdom.

My heart sank because according to my understanding that all pigs are vile, evil creatures, this means that ALL animals must be vile, evil creatures.  But this belief conflicts with my love of animals.  I can’t believe both at the same time.  Cripes, I even think the pigs pictured above are adorable.

“Maybe not all are vile….”  I thought to myself.

It’s just like it is with people.  Some are crazy, while others, not so much.

I have no interest in tearing a person down for personal gain, but I lived through and experienced what it’s like.  If you take down a threat, you’re awarded with power.  You feel distinguished by it.  And if you’re cunning enough, you can win over the hearts of others because of it.  This is why women gossip.  It’s another ploy at eating vulva’s.

I never thought of anybody as a threat.  That’s the thing.  There’s no need for me to eat vulva’s.  Just as it is with my natural inclination towards loving animals, I have a stubborn natural inclination to love myself.

Rational Brain – “How does loving yourself have anything to do with eating vulva’s?”

I don’t know, it just does.  I feel it’s correct, okay?

Rational Brain – “Don’t be lazy, think.  This is why I debate with you after-all.”

Okay okay, I’ll refer back to my ayahuasca teachings.  Give me a sec….

Rational Brain – “Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s about faith.  The one true most purest love you can have is synonymous with faith.

Rational Brain – “This sounds awfully familiar to me but please, go on.”

You rise above fear.  When there is no fear, there are no threats and when you don’t consider something a threat, compassion is born into the equation.  You lose your appetite for vulva’s.

Rational Brain – “Repeat it one more time only leaving out all your self-righteous bullshit.”

I know, I hate the way that bullshit sounds too.  I sound transfixed and crazy.  Okay, how’s this….

– By loving yourself, you eliminate your own demons, you eliminate eating your own vulva.

Rational Brain – “How though?  I need specifics.  Connect the freaking dots.  Not to mention how crazy that sounds!”

Give me a minute and I’ll tie it together.  This is a process, okay?  It ain’t easy.

Rational Brain – “What ev’s..”

We are naturally inclined towards survival, right?  Survival means adapting to something that ensure’s our own safety.  This is how we learn fear.  People who don’t venture out or follow their hearts, avoid people or things they consider a “threat”, they are in the end, eating their own vulva (or other people’s vulva’s as long as they’re cunning and manipulative enough).  They have fear and where there is fear, there is no faith in yourself.  You like things done a certain way in order to control this fear.  To do anything outside of your comfort level, brings about the obvious “discomfort”.  The more you like things done a certain way, the more fear you have.  You never leave your box and end up gaining power through judging others because you have none of your own.

Rational Brain – “That’s all well and good but how does loving yourself change all that?”

Because love is faith!

Rational Brain – “But how is it faith?!  We’re back at the beginning!”

Arg…When you love yourself in the purest form that ayahuasca described (we’re not spiritually evolved enough to understand this love, keep that in mind), you rise.  You rise light as a feather.  It’s like falling in love.

In my post that was sadly taken away from me, I wrote about what makes people fall in love.

Rational Brain – “I remember that.  It made my synapses bleed girly menstrual blood.”

Um, graphic much?….but anyway, in short, people fall in love because they get inspired.  And inspiration comes from asking the questions “why?” or “how?”

“How do they do that?”  “What made them that way?” or, “How can I do that too?”

The things that don’t belong anywhere in your current understanding, are what’s appealing.  Anything that makes you curious is considered fascinating and/or beautiful.

Like a daisy growing out of concrete, or a purple pebble amidst a sea of grey ones.  Anything outside your current level of experience (understanding), and you wish to learn more about it – are the things you fall in love with.

When you love yourself in the pure form, you find yourself being the daisy, or the purple rock.  Curious, full of mystery and potential too.

When we are interested in a person, they most often come off as mysterious.  And what that mystery really is, is potential.  In a way, it’s your potential.

Basically, when you love yourself, you fall in love with your own potential.  Your own imagination.  Having a muse in your life awakens your own self-love.

Most artists are wrongly accused of egocentricity and narcissism, while in fact the people making those allegations are only vulva eaters themselves.  Stealing power they didn’t earn.  The artist can drown in a sea of grey rocks while vying to better the world.

The contemplators in my head a few days ago were arguing back and forth about this world being built solely by our imaginations.  Imagination creates everything we see and nature provides the fruits of our labor to see it through.

If imagination is Godly, and I somehow linked imagination with the purest form of love (which is said to be God), than perhaps I’m on to something?

We love the people we want to get to know better.  If we love ourselves, we want to get to know ourselves better.  And the people we love inspires our own potential for growth.  Love breeds more love until it stagnates into fear.  Fear breeds more fear.

This is why I write.  I love myself in the purest form and I want to know myself better.  I consider myself that lonely purple rock amidst a sea of grey ones.  I want to stretch my potential and achieve my goals, I want to create.  And by creating, I influence and evolve the world – our sole reason for us being here is to evolve according to ayahuasca.


Rational Brain – “Did you forget that out of the billions of people inhabiting this world, only 2 actually read your blog?”

Shut up that’s not the point.  Maybe I can influence them in other ways.

Rational Brain – “Only insecure people boast about themselves.”

I’m not boasting, I’m explaining.  It just sounds like boasting is all.

But because I feel this way about myself, I’m not afraid of a grey rock eating away at my vulva – it’s an impossibility.  And staying in my comfort zone, eating my own vulva for survival purposes, is not an issue.  That’s just gross people, come on.

Rational Brain – “Damn girl….”

If you scroll up to where I first mentioned vulva eating, I was going to talk about an entirely different topic.

Rational Brain – “What topic was that?”

Hold on and let me make sure this previous topic is closed.  I want to make sure I can clearly understand what I’m talking about.  Hold up.

Oh shit, I changed.

Rational Brain – “Waddya mean you changed?”

I changed over the years.  I didn’t have as much faith in myself as I do now.  I was on the same level as the grey rocks for a while.

I lived in fear because I was living in my comfort zone for far too long.  I was eating my own vulva – don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t always like that.  When I was 18 I tried out a plethora of jobs and applied myself.  I was young and well aware of my potential.  But as I got older and nothing changed, I slowly sank down to be with the grey rocks.  Aging makes you scared.  Scared of losing life, losing time.  You slip into your comfort zone (survival mode), and lose your love (curiosity, potential).  You escape by keeping yourself busy, or inebriated.  Usually both.  Clinging to those stronger than you but never coming to fruition yourself.  Being enabled.

I only started to rise again once I hit bottom.  Oddly enough, it helped that I didn’t have a stronger person to cling to that would enable me.

Rational Brain – “Kind of like the temperature rising and falling.”


Rational Brain – “With you hitting rock bottom and then rising up again.  It’s like New England’s monthly temp’s.”


Rational Brain – “I really hope you’re not bi-polar.”

Well if I am, I’m loving it.

I don’t know if any person reading this will understand any of it, but while you’re trying to comprehend it all, I’m laying here in bed and it feels like I’m stepping back to take in the view of what I’ve drawn after connecting all the dots.

It’s 11:16.  It taken me a little over an hour to write all that.  An immortal chimp clacking away at random keys is not needed.  I’ve found my own decent “Hamlet”.

Rational Brain – “So what was your original intention for mentioning the vulva eating pigs?”

Hold on, I haven’t read everything I’ve written yet.  Give me a sec.  There may be more on this topic.

Grey rocks are sociopaths.

Rational Brain – “Say what?”

If you’re living in fear as a grey rock, you become a narcissistic sociopath.  When I was working at Massage Envy, I started seeing this in myself and so I wrote about it and tried making a joke of it.

You can only understand the things you’ve experienced, so I’m thankful that I was a grey rock.  Understanding helps facilitate compassion.  Once you understand something, you no longer fear it.  And you can change your colors back to purple, or blue, or whatever your favorite color is.  A diamond perhaps?

Totally off topic, but I consulted the I-Ching asking it who I am and it said (exact quote) “Once I learn fear, I am safe from terror by outside influences.”

I-Ching is furrealz yo.  I believe in it 100%.  So much so that it freaks me out.

Damn, my client still wants to come in for his massage at 3:00.  I just emailed him NO.

Okay so anyway, my original intention for bringing up vulva eating pigs was to tell you about a dream I had last night, or this morning rather.

I dreamt a huge pig – the biggest fattest pig I’ve ever seen was chasing after me.  I thought it was one of those vulva eating pigs so I was terrified, naturally.  But when the pig caught up to me, he put my whole head in its mouth.  I was waiting for him to bite down, but he didn’t.  He slobbered all over my head before letting me go and nonchalantly walked away.  Everyone told me that it was the pig’s way of saying he liked me.

So anyway, back in my bathroom in real life, I went to my trusty dream dictionary authored by the great all-knowing Migene González-Wippler and looked up what it meant to dream of a pig.

Huge success in business is what it means.  HUGE gains.

I’m interviewing two independent contractors tomorrow for at-home massage visits.  I lose no money by hiring them and if it works out, it will be fair and lucrative for us both.

I have a free mini-micro current facial on Wednesday at 9am.  The woman who does them is insanely busy with clients and all she does is micro-current facials.  It’s inspiring me to want to add them to the menu at work, ergo, I’m falling in love with it’s potential.  Inspired for growth!

I received a coupon for a free micro-current facial during an open house at a yoga studio I attended a few months back.

And so I’m going on Wednesday to see what they’re like and to snoop around to see how she has everything set up.  Does she wear gloves?  Do I need a bright light to put in people’s faces like with dentists?  What brand of equipment does she use?

So much to do in 15 minutes…..

After I get a general idea of what I need, I’m going to set up my room similar to how she’s got it and post a job for an esthetician who has a micro-current facial certificate.  If they’re not certified, I’ll pay half of their tuition for the two day course as long as they’re willing to work at least 20 hours a week.  The total cost of the course is $450.  They get $17 an hour when they have a client and $10 for when they don’t.

I have to hold off on getting my machine because if I have to send an esthetician to school to get trained, I’ll be approved for the student discount (I already called and asked) and the $4,000 that the machine costs will be slightly less.

So it’s a wash for me if the esthetician is trained or not, either way I’ll save money.  I’ll save money on the machine with the student discount and if they’re already trained, I’ll save money by not needing to train them.

I’m not waiting a couple months until I save enough money.  I’m doing it all now.  The money will come.

In the meantime, my finances are in the red zone.  At least for three days they are.  The total amount of money in the bank is a meager $5,633.  But that’s after I paid rent, and before I bulk charged my member clients.  I’m also receiving a check for over $400 from the Record Journal, Groupon is sending me $3000 on the 20th for tripling the amount of groupons I sell, I’m still making a steady $100 a day with random services and gift certs as long as snow doesn’t screw things up.  This time next month I’ll be in good shape, at least, I won’t be negative than what I’ve started with this month.

Anyway, I think I’m done writing for today.  I’m worried about my client not responding to the email I sent him.  God I hope he doesn’t show up.

My brothers spa is closed today and he’s watching scary movies with his girlfriend on the couch.  I don’t feel bad not going in because if other places are closed, I’m closed too.

And now I shall retire for the rest of the day and play….DUN dun DUN;  South Park, the stick of truth.  It’s hilarious.  I’m sad to say that I’d rather stay in playing video games than go outside and take a fun refreshing ride on the snow mobile.  Kids today…..80’s babies are wiggedy wack.


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Remembering Henry

I wrote about my friend Henry a while ago.  He’s the poor guy who lived in a ramshackle apartment and had his mom bring him McDonalds for supper every night.

He was in a dire situation then, so it seemed.  Rock bottom from my perspective but no, not rock bottom.  Now he’s at rock bottom.  Or at least I hope it’s rock bottom this time.

He’s been living in the woods behind my house for the past 6 weeks!

I’m supposed to see him tomorrow.  It’s so weird how he’s back in my life now of all times – right after writing a post about how I’ll never help anyone who refuses to help themselves.  It figures of all times he picks now to call me.  It’s just his luck.

In the meantime, I have to prepare for my trip to Thailand.  Prepare my business and employee’s, train a new therapist, go to Minnesota to see an old friend for thanksgiving, pick up the slack from my employee who gave me a weeks notice and dropped 4 days off her schedule, and go to the Thai embassy in New York to apply for a visa.  I leave on December 6.  Well, technically it’s December 7 at 2 am when I start my travels.  Which gives me 11 days to do everything in.

I’m staying 6 days over the 30 day allowance they give visitors to Thailand.  I went on a Trip Advisor forum today and asked what I should do.  One guy told me I may not be able to leave the states if I’m staying over 30 days without a visa.

The closest embassy is in New York, an hour and 44 minutes away from my house….and processing time takes two days which means I’ll have to go back there.

Damn I just want to leave already.  11 days!

Tomorrow I have to pick up my malaria pills which are $120, get two photo ID’s taken at CVS, go to the bank to get $300 in thai money, massage a client, I’m supposed to see Henry, I really need to visit my friend who just had surgery and keeps texting me to visit her, have keys made for my new employee….Go to Stop & Shop for tissues and toilet paper for work.

I hate having stuff to do.  Why do people purposely stay busy?  Why?  It sucks!

I told my parents and my brother about Henry.  I asked them if Henry is stuck outside a homeless shelter with no beds left, can he crash here?  My mom said it’s up to my brother and my brother said no.

The sensor light attached to the shed in our backyard won’t turn off.  My mom thinks Henry is out there.  My brother went and locked the shed up for the first time ever today.  My mom thinks Henry is locked inside it.  That’s why the light won’t turn off.

Some guy I know gave me a matchbox…..

Him – “I want you to bring this to Thailand.”

He hands me a matchbox with no other instructions on what to do with it. I thought they were waterproof emergency matches.

Me – “What’s this?”

Him – “My dog.”

Me – “Ummm, your dog?  You mean his ashes?”

Him – “Yeah.”

Me – “You want me to spread your dogs ashes in Thailand?”

Him – “Yes.  Please.”

Me – “Why don’t you spread them in Alaska?”

Him – “I am.”

I shook the box and a bunch of ashes fell out of it.

I’m tempted to throw the box away.  I’m horrible.  But I hardly know the guy and I have different beliefs than he does.

I don’t care where the hell my ashes end up.  It be cool if they ended up in my hometowns water supply (before filtration of course), but other than that I don’t give a shit so why should I care about ashes from a dog I never met owned by a strange guy I hardly know?

I better catch some zzzz.  It’s late.

And the odyssey of my life continues…..


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There is no snake

A snake slithered into my dream the other night. He was violent, vicious. Without hesitation, I tried grabbing him by its head.  “It’s the only way,” I thought to myself, “for it to stop biting.”

But the more I grabbed for him, the harder he bit me. I physically felt the sting of his fangs.

I knew that if I didn’t capture him right then and there, I’d have to live in fear.  Anticipating his next move.  Not only that, but I was already bitten.  If he was poisonous, then I had nothing to lose – the poison was already in me. To stop now meant that all those previous bites served no purpose. To run now, expelling the poison, healing myself, only to get bit later on, will cause the process to happen again and again.  Attack.  Pain.  Heal.  Attack.  Pain.  Heal.

Walking away was not the strong choice, but the cowardice choice.  Choosing fear means to live with it.

And so I decided to capture him.  No matter how much it hurt, I chose courage over fear.

And I did end up catching him in the end.  I grabbed him by his head and watched his jaw unhinge baring watery fangs that shot poison at me like water guns.

I’m not sure if poison actually shoots out of fangs, but in my dream it did.

He flailed in my grasp.  The poison in me was gone.  The snake could no longer harm me.

I woke up and looked my hand over to make sure it had no bites on it.  No bites, but it felt sore.  I had a lingering ghost pain that was all in my head.

Damn my dreams….. Ever so vivid.  Blood, puncture wounds, real pain.  My brain is so damn powerful.

What does it mean?

Sometimes you can’t choose your battles.  Nobody chooses what snakes bite them.

“So basically your dream is telling you to seize your fears by their head, correct?”


“And by walking away is in fact, the weaker choice?”

Uh huh that’s right.

“Can’t you see that both choices are not actually choices at all?”

Please don’t over-think and complicate things. You know how seriously I take my dreams.

“Hear me out for a second, I think I’m on to something.”

What-ev buddy, it’s late and I need sleep.

“In both cases you’re letting fear govern your actions.  They’re not self-aware or realized choices – they are not awake choices.”

You’re not sounding like my normal snarky rational brain.  What’s with you tonight?

“It feels to me like it doesn’t matter.  Whether you walk away or you don’t, it doesn’t matter.  There will always be another snake, you know?  If you really want to grab fear by its head, you’ll have to grab fear itself, and not the thing you’re afraid of.  There is no snake.  There is no fear.”

I hate to do this to you, but I need sleep.  You’re not acting like your normal self.  We’ll talk more about it tomorrow.


Seriously though, you’re sounding crazy.

“Okay okay goodnight.”


It’s a couple days later and I’m laying in bed completely exhausted.  I want to hide away from the world.  Am I depressed or legitimately tired?  Tired.  Definitely tired.  And okay, maybe a little depressed.

I saw my tarot reader today, the Wise Woman.  She was at the Guilford Renaissance fair.  She told me that money will soon come and I’m better off than I think.

It’s just that…… I’M SO FREAKING TIRED!

I’m working a lot now so I won’t have to work anymore later, but I’m missing everything in the meantime.  I’m missing the here and now – my LIFE.  Those buckets I wrote about a few days ago – that’s all true.  Totally true.  Even when I’m here, or out in the world socializing, I’m not here exactly – you know?  It’s like I need more time.  Just a little more time for myself.

The tarot reader today told me that I needed a place to go to be alone.  But being alone won’t pay for my $4,000 in monthly bills.  Being alone won’t empty my buckets.  It’s not just about having time alone, it’s about finding contentment.

This is how everybody lives; First money, then love.  First fix your life to avoid worry, then find your passion, find your voice.  It can’t be found at the bottom of a worry bucket.

The Wise Woman also told me that I’m battling what’s important in life.  Love or money – the two cards intersected each other portraying a conflict of interest.

It’s only been three months since I decided to expand my business.  I’ve been open now for a little over a month.  But in those three months, I’ve done nothing but work, worry, and spend money.  I HATE spending money.  And where’s my blog in all this?  I need to write.  I don’t want to, I need to.  At least just a little. But I can’t (this post has taken me weeks to write).

There is only DO, not try, do.  And I’m choosing money over love.  Snakes everywhere.

Okay, I gotta go. Thanks for the chat.

“But what about our discussion about the snakes?  When I said there is no fear, there are no snakes?”

Oh yeah, about that…..


It’s a faith thing.  We fear because we worry and we worry because we lack faith.  Courageous people tackle their fears in order to rid them and in return, they gain confidence and faith in themselves.  It’s just that everybody either runs, or they forget everything.  They forget how amazing they are.  Plus, being that we’re all interconnected and can only evolve together, we’re stuck battling everyone else’s fears.  We’re entangled in everyone else’s shit until we wake the EFF up and make the connections.  Seeing the connections, how our fear meshes with other people’s, that’s when we wake up.

All of us have snakes because we all lack faith.  This is why we’re here, to learn faith.  It can’t be learned while running and forgetting.

“So you still believe then, that walking away is the cowards choice?”

Yes.  Absolutely.  Walking away, living in denial, any type of escape, to me, is cowardly.

“What about the power of letting go?  Ayahuasca made a huge stink about it, don’t you remember?  Or are you too stubborn and living in your own denial?”

Denial is not the same as letting go.  Finding ways to distract yourself is not the same as letting go.  Letting go can only happen with compassion, and most of the world is bereft of it.  If we felt compassionate towards the snake, if we understood him, we’ll have nothing to fear from him.  If he attacks, we’ll be able to understand his pain – his fear.  It’s the snakes fear, not our own, that causes us to run, to judge, to hate.

“So in a sense, we become the snake?”


“Alright, I have no more arguments. Only, how do you stop the pain from the attack?  Even if you are compassionate and understanding, how do you stop from bleeding?”

Once you’re compassionate enough, the sting won’t hurt.  The snake loses his power to harm you.  That is of course, speaking metaphorically about the snake.  As long as you’re living in fear, the sharper the snakes fangs are to bite you with.  The only snakes that attack are the ones attracted to your fear (karma).  You can’t let go of your fear without confronting it.  And while you’re confronting it, it WILL bite the hell out of you.

“When does it stop biting and hurting you?”

When you find its truth.  When you make the connections, see the entanglement.  And in most cases, it lies in our weaknesses.  The strong understand and confront truth while the weak lash their fangs and defend.

“Which one are you Melanie?  You’re running from a future of work, you fear failure, being a loser, an embarrassment.  Do you think somehow that fear can transform you into greed?  Into becoming a snake yourself?”

I can’t say.  Telling myself that it won’t, may just be denial.  Adhering to any belief, narrows my perception in a way where I can’t see my own truth and if I can’t see my own truth, I’ll be bereft of self-compassion, bereft of compassion for others.

“A simple yes or no would’ve sufficed.”

I wanted to end this post long ago, nothing is ever simple for me.


It’s now about a week later.  I woke up today and checked my email to find yet another person asking me for a job.  I get a few a these emails a week, only this time it’s different.  This time, he’s a young guy.

Not only is he a young male, but also cute (I found him on Facebook).  Ironically his name just happens to be Adonis.

A young, attractive male therapist is a very hot commodity for any massage clinic.  I called him and left him a message on his voicemail.  I hope to hear back.

I have a long hefty list of To Do’s today and it’s already rolling into 4:30 and I still haven’t left the house.  My one day off, the only day I can get things done – the only day I have to rest and recoup is spent editing a blog post that pretty much nobody will understand while carrying these damn buckets of To Do lists and hoping Adonis will call and rescue me.

The notebook I use to write down blog idea’s is overflowing.  Nothing’s getting done, nothing’s getting written, nothing is escaping my brain to turn into pink permanent butterflies flittering on the inter-web never to be forgotten by me again.

I’m forgetting things, forgetting myself.  Well, I’m forgetting everything except for that looming $4,000 I have to pay every month.  Is hiring another employee really a good decision Mel?  You’re not a damn accountant.


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Filed under philosophy, random thoughts, Self help, Strange & Unusual

Melanie’s search for meaning continues

Electrons circle around the nucleus of an atom.  Heat causes stray particles to run rampant, colliding with those orbiting electrons encircling the nucleus.  The electrons become energized and raised to a higher orbital frequency furthering themselves away from their original orbital home.  In order for those electrons to stabilize and fall back into their regular orbit, they must discharge any unneeded energy they obtained during their collision with the stray heated particles.  And as they discharge this unwarranted energy, they create light.

Light is comprised of all the colors of the rainbow.  Depending on how much energy the electron needs to discharge for it to fall back into its orbit, correlates to the frequency (color) of the photon they create.

As of now, nothing that we know of exists that can travel faster than discharged energy escaping a hyped up electron, otherwise known as light.  Nothing.  Not even time itself.

Think about it.

I mean really.


The life of a photon, there is no life.  Not even an existence really.  Well, none that they’re aware of anyway.  Because for them, time stands still.

It completely blows my mind when I think about it.  I can’t grasp my thoughts for more than two seconds.  I’m not high if that’s what you’re thinking.

Okay, here’s why my mind is blown.  I’ll illustrate.

A star that is billions, trillions of light years away – that light emitted from the star has been traveling for billions, trillions of years just to reach us.  It traveled for nearly an infinite distance, overcoming all obstacles, not being blocked or absorbed by oncoming traffic, no.  For billions of years it flew fast and free while in the eyes of the photon, it has no awareness of the time it took for them to get here.  Because time stands still for them, their birth and death are instantaneous.  To them, they are born and absorbed into our retina’s at the same time.  Their only meaning, their one and only purpose for existence was for us to see the star.

When we look up them, the stars, the light that hits our eyes is almost as old as the universe itself.  Not only that, but the light that hits our eyes are alien.  It’s not of this world, but of another.  We are absorbing trillions of ancient alien photons (that were made from an ancient alien electron in an ancient alien atom) through our eyeballs every time we look at a star.  Particles that were made trillions upon trillions of miles across our galaxy, bypassed astroids, planets, cosmic dust, survived for millennia unperturbed all for its life to end instantaneous in our dilated pupils.

All starting with one electron, in one atom.  An atom who’s existence wouldn’t be known if its electrons hadn’t discharged extra energy for them to fall back into their regular orbit around a nucleus.

Discharge.  I hate that word, but that’s besides the point.

I’m discharging right now.  All over my blog.  I have to in order for me, myself, to fall back into my regular orbit.

To me, this is what we all do.  We discharge in order for us to go back into being “regular”.  Or at least, feeling like ourselves anyway.

Beauty isn’t found in the irregularities.  It’s found in our uniques ways to getting back to regular.

But light man, what a trip.  If time stands still for light, does it really exist?  Or does it only exist when we’re there to witness it?

It’s like that old koan about a tree falling in the woods and nobody is around to hear it.  If you sucked out all the air in those woods, than no, nothing can hear it fall.  Sound can only travel in a medium (such as air).  Sound can’t exist in a vacuum.  But light travels without air, which leads scientists to believe there’s a medium we’re not aware of.

Nobody has actually seen a light particle.  They exist in theory.  Nobody has seen a light wave.  Nobody know’s what light is exactly.  And how do our brains decipher these theoretical discharged photons?  How does it do that?  Why do our eyes decipher these photons as light?  And how the hell do our brains see the frequency (color) of those photons?!

And where does light get it’s energy to travel with anyway?

Think about it.

In order for something to move forward, it has to be propelled by something.  A trajectory.  But light being the fastest thing imaginable, has no mass (none that we know of), no time, no matter, cannot be bottled up or contained – what’s moving it?  If it’s true that light only exists when we see it, what if we’re the medium?  What if we’re the one’s who move it?  Not just us, but any consciousness.

In all the experiments that were created to measure light, all of them conclude that light exists in non-locality (in buddhism, this is experienced as emptiness).  They also claim that an observer – someone who witnesses the experiment – localizes the wave into single particles.  The energy of our consciousness effects the test results – how’s that for a medium?

If light is formed from an electrons discharge, than what is formed from the energy being discharged through our synapses?  Doesn’t that energy escape too?  And if so, is it possible that that conscious energy, also timeless, without weight, exists in non-local space-time, can travel just as fast, if not faster than light?  Therefore bypassing the time boundary and entering not just into the past, but a perpetual continuum of timeless non-local probabilities, only coming into existence when someone recognizes it.

If this is true, then every thought we ever had and will ever have has been predestined.  We are only receivers of them.  Which means that because our actions stem from thought, whether it be conscious or unconscious, everything we do and will ever do, has already been done.  As in, predestined for it to happen.

Ayahuasca told me that God is timeless and exists in all of us.  What if God is conscious thought that’s orchestrating life in order to facilitate our spiritual evolution?

All thought is from God, and God is us.  We are it.

Ayahuasca also told me that we have free will.  We can choose our paths.  Whatever we do, or not do, is meant to be.

When I experienced emptiness (an experience almost all buddhists have felt) for those fleeting 2 seconds, I saw pure potential.  I experienced my free will.  But at the same time, its an illusion because all that exists and all that will ever happen, is happening right now.  Our past, present, and future is happening simultaneously because our collective consciousness transverses space and time.  It’s all happening right now, but we’re unable to see, understand, or experience it because we lack the spiritual dimension.

It’s like we’re a prism.  We catch light rays and our consciousness refracts it into our own individual personalities (colors) in order for us to see the contrasts, experience them, and define ourselves.  Through definition, we grow.  But we all come from the same light.  A light that is spread in a wave of non-local possibilities until our conscious mind brings it into fruition.

I started this post last night at 1AM.  I didn’t even attempt sleep until I literally couldn’t keep my eyes open.  And today I woke up early, trained a new employee to sit and answer phones and then I came here, to the Nissan dealership in Hartford for an oil change.

I’m sipping hot chocolate.  I’m exhausted.

To wrap up a rather confusing boring ass post, there IS no meaning.  None of what we do matters, only that we grow spiritually.  And according to my musings a few days ago, we learn through experience and we can only experience something through emotion.

So if emotions are the key to spiritual growth and awareness, by default, they are never meaningless.  No emotion is ever meaningless.

I believe that empaths can experience meaning behind all emotion, even when it’s not their own.  I had a very troublesome time training my new hire because of this.  I’ll save that for another post.

I got my brain back, but do I really want it back?  Shit keeps me up at night.  Plus explaining all of this to my family over Easter dinner makes me feel like a damn outcast.

And there’s still so much to write about….

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Filed under philosophy, random thoughts, Strange & Unusual

Melanie’s not so normal life online

An old woman started working in my office building around this time last year.  She wears the same khaki sweater everyday, and the same green felt pants.  The kind that easily attracts lint and fur.  When people greet her good morning, she nods her head and goes about her business without uttering a word.

Well, this woman knocked on my office door shortly after I noticed her working in my building.  I open the door and say, “hello” with an open face smiled.

Without hesitation, or any expression on her part, she starts hitting me repeatedly on top of my head with a rolled up newspaper.

“Hey!  W-what are you doing that for?”

She continued to hit me over the head with the newspaper, ignoring my question.

“What did I do?  Is there a reason why you’re hitting me?”

The woman stopped hitting me and quickly scampered up the stairs and out of site.

“What the hell was that about?”

I hesitantly sat back down at my desk.  “Seriously lady?”  I smoothed my hair after having it disheveled and felt confused for the remainder of the day.

The next day I walked into my office building and the old woman scuttled up to me and started hitting me again on top my head with a rolled up newspaper.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

The receptionist behind the desk shrugs her shoulders.

“Seriously, why are you doing this?”

The woman’s strikes were equally spaced out like a metronome.  Her face looked stern and determined.  At least three minutes went by while I stood there receiving a beating and asking her the same question only in different variations, “why are you doing this?”  Or, “I don’t understand, what did I do?”

The receptionist starts laughing.  I guess from an outsiders view, the situation was comical.  The bashing didn’t hurt, it only messed up my hair and annoyed me.

“If you don’t stop I’m going to call the cops.”

This made the receptionist laugh even louder.  The angrier I became, the more absurd things got.

I ran down the stairs, down the hall, and into my office.  The old woman couldn’t keep up and it looked like she struggled going down the stairs.  I felt sorry for her in a way.  Sorry that she wasn’t able to keep hitting me on the head with a rolled up newspaper.

I heard a knock on my office door minutes later.

“Go away!”  I shout.

“Is this the massage room?  I have a 12 o’clock appointment.”  A meek voice on the other side announced.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”  I opened the door and explained the situation.  She too thought it was funny.

“But I don’t know anything about the woman.  She doesn’t talk or explain herself.  Every time she see’s me, she starts whacking me over the head with a rolled up newspaper.

Again, the client laughs.

Once I completed my work day, I stepped out of my office and the old woman was there waiting for me.  And once again, she beat me over the head with a rolled up newspaper.

It went on like this for months.  She used the same newspaper, which became ratty and papers often flew from it.  There wasn’t much of it left.

I grew angrier with each passing day until I reached a breaking point and I pushed her down outside my office building after work.  She wasn’t surprised, angry, or upset in any way.  She merely accepted it as if it was part of her job of hitting me over the head with a newspaper.

She had trouble getting up.  I felt bad for her.  She was just a mortal old woman after all.  I bent down and helped her up and as soon as she was back on her feet, she started pelting me again with the newspaper.

I ran to my car and the old woman tried to keep up, but slipped on some ice.  She laid on the pavement for a few moments looking like an upturned turtle flailing her arms and legs about.  It was her second spill in less than two minutes.  I walked over to her and helped her up.  I made sure she was okay.  Once she was back on her feet, she started hitting me again with the newspaper.  I didn’t mind her hitting me because that meant she was okay.

As long as she was able to hit me, I knew she was okay, and so I let her hit me.  I grew to gain relief and satisfaction over it.  I resigned myself to it.  And I became increasingly troubled knowing that it would’t last forever.  That this old woman, who went out of her way to whack me over the head with a newspaper every day, would pass on.  Or even worse, the newspaper would lose its last page.

I wondered which would come first; her passing on, or the newspaper losing its last page.  I pondered which would be worse.

If she died before the newspaper lost its last page, she would die happy.  However, if she died after she was no longer able to hit me properly with the same newspaper, she would die miserable.

The thought overwhelms and saddens me.  I try not to think about it.


Filed under humor, Strange & Unusual

Au Revoir Farewell Auf Wiedersehen Good Bye Esmeralda

It’s just a car, it has no feelings.  It’s just a car, it has no feelings.

Esmeralda, my 95 Ford Escort, was given to me for free by an elderly woman who absolutely adored me.

She barely drove it, and when she did, she managed to ding in a few whiskey dents that added character and charm.  It was love at first sight.

As a reminder to never under-appreciate her gift, I kept the keychain that came with the car.  A small keychain that shown a picture of a bank in Rhode Island (she was from Rhode Island).

“For as long as I have this car, I will have this keychain.  Thank you Lorraine.”

I’m insanely superstitious.  Well, it’s not exactly superstition I have.  I don’t exactly know what I have to be honest.  But I get these sensations, you see.  Almost like premonitions.  I’m not bullshitting you here, or trying to make myself sound special – I swear!  But I get these….I don’t know, premonitions.  They come out of nowhere.

For example; many years ago two of my best closest friends bought me a bonsai tree for my birthday.  As soon as I seen it, I got a premonition that when that plant dies, so will our friendship.

I didn’t want to believe it, thought it was ridiculous, and as my way of showing how ridiculous it was, I purposely neglected the plant.  I left it in the care of the spa I worked at.  Out of site, out of mind.

Years go by and the plant stayed perfectly alive and healthy.  And I swear to you (again, total no-bullshit here), to the very day it died, guess what?  So did the friendships.  To the very day!

“What the fuck.  No fucking way. No no no.”  I said this as I held the discarded plant in my hands.  It died before I knew it was dying.  It died while I wasn’t there.  Someone seen it had died, removed it from the massage room, and left it near or in the sink in the back room where we do laundry.

Why didn’t they just throw it away?  And why, after weeks and months of not working there, did I agree to take a client on that particular day?  A day when my dead plant was there?

As soon as Lorraine handed me the keys to Esmeralda, I felt in my guts that the car will last as long as the keychain.

A few weeks ago the keychain broke off.

“No big deal, I’ll fix it.”

Then I lost the keychain entirely.  I searched everywhere.  A few days later, a deer ran into the side of ol’ Essie.  A week or two after that, my alternator stopped working and I nearly stopped dead in my tracks on a bridge on a major highway.

“No no no, please don’t stop now.  Please?”

By the grace of god, or the spirit of the car, the alternator kicked on and I made it safely home.

Then I get a major sinus infection that wouldn’t go away, I didn’t want it to go away.  I was too depressed to want it to go away.  I was depressed over my stupid plant dying (even though it was years ago), depressed for losing the keychain, depressed for having to give massages all day everyday – everything.  I was depressed about everything.  I was being hit from all sides – no matter how outlandish or insane those sides were, they hit me hard.

I replaced the battery and drove Esmeralda to work, not knowing it was the alternator.  Long story long, I ended up having to tow her (not her, it.  IT, Melanie).

It happened when my dad was following behind me to drop Esmeralda off at his friends garage.

When the tow truck driver tilted the front end to get her up on the truck, all the gas that I just put in her, fell out.  It fell from her guts in nauseating splashes.

Me – “Oh noooo.”

I said with a pouty face.

Dad – “How did you ever drive like that?  How long did you have that leak?”

Me – “Um…not long.”

It’s been three years.

I couldn’t get rid of the car.  It meant too much to me to even fathom getting rid of it.  It was given to me by a woman who is now dead.  It was given to me at a time in my life when I felt utterly hopeless.

The car ride home with my dad was the worst.

Dad – “You need to buy yourself a new car.  It’s not worth fixing.”

Me – “What if someone says that about me?”

I heard myself and scowled.  A car is not a person.  It’s a thing.  It has no feelings.

Over and over my dad would repeat himself, “It’s time to bite the bullet and find a new one.”

Me – “No way.  It’s a waste of money.  And this is the first time she gave me trouble.”

And on and on it went for the entire ride home.  I got angry at him and I never get angry.

My dad was annoying me, so his flaws were more pronounced.  Like, “why does it sound like he’s talking with a numb tongue?  Do old people not feel their tongues anymore?  Oh no, my dad is getting old.  He sounds old.  I love him so much.  I love my car so much.”

Today after coming home from work, dad gave me the sad sad news.

Alternator is broke

Brake lines are rusted

Shocks are shot

Needs new gas tank

New gas pump

on and on he went.

Me – “I’ll fix it.  I’ll do what needs to be done.  It’s cheaper to fix it than to buy another clunker.”

I was in denial.  Just as I was in denial while watching Esmeralda getting towed.  The tow truck’s flashing lights reminded me of a dance club, so I played Lady Gaga’s Just Dance on my iPhone and started dancing.

Dad – “Why are you happy?  Your car is being towed.”

Me – “I’ll fix it no problem.  Just dance.  Doopy doodie just dance.  Dance, da da da da, dance.”

I abide by logic and reason, and right now it’s starting to feel more logical to get a new car.  I just can’t believe it happened after losing the keychain.  I didn’t fix it in time.  Just like I didn’t fix the plant in time.

“That’s the opposite of logic and reason.”

But my premonitions always come true.  You know that.

“Yeah, that is weird.  I can’t deny it.  But it’s not logical.”

So what is?

“Common sense.”

Nothing makes sense to me anymore.

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Filed under All about me, journal, Strange & Unusual

Let the truth be told by the length of your fingers and the crypts in your eyes

I love science.  Anthropology, psychology, physics, biology, chemistry – all of these fields existing as proof that we don’t own our own minds.

Hold on a tick and I’ll tell you some interesting little factoids that I stumbled upon.  But first I want to tell you how sick I am (because I’m a whiny baby).

Since I started using an electronic cigarette, I’ve gotten sick more times in the past two years than I have in my entire life combined.  I’m now fully literate of the cold virus language.

First stage is exhaustion accompanied by sore throat (but you can still go out and function in this stage), shortly thereafter your nose starts to drip light watery stuff.  You may be able to pass it off as allergies.

But once you sleep that off, it doesn’t end there.  After you’ve slept off the initial exhaustion and sore throat, then comes the mucus stage.  Your coughs become loud boisterous gurgles and the light watery discharge from your nose is replaced with globulous mucus demons escaping your every orifice (ears too).

As for me, the mucus stage isn’t accompanied by exhaustion.  I’m able to venture off into the cold world spewing venomous demon guts all over unsuspecting New Englanders.

I’m just now entering the mucus stage, so I’m still homebound with exhaustion.  And because I’m homebound, I do online searches for odd things like, “does eye color effect IQ?”  Or, “what does dp stand for?”

I stumbled on an article about a psychologist who studies the human eye the same way scientists studied skulls in phrenology.  Matching physical attributes to psychological attributes (I effing love science).

I color and IQ

“Left: A smoothly textured iris with no crypts (gaps) between the fibers. Center: A loosely textured iris with a 
large number of crypts. Right: Arrows indicate a contraction furrow extending part way around the iris.”

Source:  Hub Pages

According to the study, people with smooth textured iris’s are more warm, stable, and trustworthy while the people with loosely textured iris’s are unstable and impulsive.

This is where science becomes a deadly slippery slope.  If evidence proves that all criminals share the same loosely textured iris’s, the Fox News team will be first to report that we should never trust a person with loosely textured iris’s because they WILL rape our daughters and rob us blind.

“Legislation passed a new bill today that ceases the sale of guns and gun ownership to anyone showing what looks to be loosely textured iris’s.  Anyone with loosely textured iris’s must report all guns and hand them over to local authorities.  Also you should stop having babies.”

People believe what they hear, and will become what they hear.  Especially when others share that belief.

(Stupid Law of Fives, I hate it.)

But I don’t care, I still love science.  I’m one of the smooth textured people, so of course there’s no disputing over here on my end.  Evidence is evidence folks.

What came first?  The eye or the behavior?

After writing my post about pedophiles, I found a website that claims pedophilia to be an inborn sexual orientation – like being gay.  As much as we don’t want to believe it, these pedophilia studies seem valid and accurate.

Science is the study of physical matter, and the chemical / hormonal makeup of a pedophile is in fact different from that of a regular person (just like when Dexter scanned his killing brain.)

What came first?  The brain or the pedophile?

The article also postulates that “pedophiles are shorter, on average, and are three times more likely to be left-handed or ambidextrous. Their IQs are about 10 to 15 points lower, and they are more prone to childhood head injuries, a characteristic Cantor attributes to an inborn clumsiness.”  You can read the full article here.

Again, we are engaging in the danger zone.  It’s no different than white supremacy.  But at the same time, alleviates blame and judgement assigned to these people because they just “can’t help themselves”.

After researching eye color, I was led to an article about finger length.  Supposedly our index finger in relation to our ring finger can tell us our personality traits and sexual orientation. (That article is here).

index finger and ring finger <
It’s called the 2D:4D finger ratio.  The crazy thing is, I read an article years ago about people with shorter index fingers getting too much testosterone while in utero and this can lead to polycystic ovarian syndrome in women.  After reading the article, I noticed a short index finger on one of my clients and me being the curious sort that I am, blatantly asked if she had POS.

“Yes, how did you know?”

Me – “Because your index finger is shorter than your ring finger.  I read an article that said people with shorter index fingers got too much testosterone in the mothers womb and it can cause POS.”

“Wow I never heard that!”

I asked this question to none-other than a stereotypical butch lesbian.  I then examined my mothers fingers because she too has POS and yup, her index finger is predominantly shorter.

Which can only mean that my mother is gay – it would explain a lot (she’s homophobic).

Maybe I’m being absurd, subjective, judgmental, and even a bit selfish somehow – not to mention buying into everything that I read.  Yes, I’m all these things, who am I fooling?

Only, it’s hard not to buy into it when the stupid law of fives is hard at work showing me things that I want to prove as real.  Things I want to believe so I can make my life a little easier to understand and handle.

My brother and his new girlfriend came home really late last night and now it’s noontime and I hear someone hurling in the toilet.

So anyways, how we are genetically hardwired, interlopes with our personalities (you can kiss your free will goodbye).  Our personalities infer with how we treat our bodies, how we treat our bodies is in exact accordance with how we treat and feel about our selves (our mind, character etc..).

The things you do physically, are the same things you do mentally.

I’m a picker of cuticles.  I pick pick, twing, twang – just as I pick and twang my thoughts until they fall off and get masticated by my teeth.

People lack logic and reason because they’re unable see themselves.  They can’t understand themselves.  They don’t want to understand because ego tells them that there’s nothing TO understand.

But then science pops its annoying head in and says stuff like, “hey there!  You like softball so much because you’re an aggressor who likes competition.  Look how short your index finger is!  Did you know that enhances your throw?  I bet you like chess too.”

The world is strange, the universe is strange, but when I was under ayahuasca, she said that everything fits together and that science is a way of showing us how everything fits together. There is no free will because we are bound by ego, and ego is interlaced with the physical world which separates us from spirit so it can manifest itself into the one fear that activates all others – the fear of death.

The fear of death = the birth of ego

Because we view ourselves as physical entities (having no belief in God), ego will continue to rule our minds so we can succumb to the physical attributes that were prescribed to us in utero.  If we became aware of ourselves (of God) when we were still monkeys, we wouldn’t have evolved into humanoids – we’d still be monkeys and this world would be the planet of the apes.

We cannot bypass science because we are made from science (physical matter).

We are here to evolve ourselves closer to the duality and until that duality combines into complete awareness, we will continue to evolve.  And trust me, we’re not there yet.  I’m not there yet, you’re not there yet – there is not one person alive today that exists in this duality.  Why?  Because people don’t realize that God is in them.

It’s crazy how I intellectually know this, experienced it, and believe it – but I’m still blocked.  I’m still lacking strength, faith, and belief in myself.  I’m just as fearful as everyone else.

In the meantime while we’re progressing, let’s just be what we are – animals.  Nature will take it’s course.

Oh and dp stands for depersonalization.  Not the other thing you were thinking (I’m no saint, but gross!).

Sorry I went off on one of my spiritual religious tangents.  Just ignore me when that happens.

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Filed under humor, philosophy, random thoughts, Self help, Strange & Unusual

Me, Myself & My Strange Addiction

“The world is a strange place and I’m the harbinger of strange.”


Oh yeah that’s right, I quoted myself.

If you really understood the nuts and bolts of the universe, you’d see that it’s more strange than you or I can possibly imagine.  Shit blows my mind!

It’s crazy because everyone’s running in the opposite direction while I’m staring directly at the sun.

My rods and cones are still hypersensitive because of a bad decision I made before owning my first pair of sunglasses.

But I’m still staring (metaphorically speaking) into the sun.

Am I being self-absorbed by thinking I’m the only one who does this?

But what is it exactly, that I’m doing?

God is the strangeness of the universe and religion is the comfort that holds us away from the strangeness.  We only embrace the parts we can understand and agree with.

I’m talking about the stuff we don’t understand or agree with.  I’m talking about curiosity.  The curiosity that spurs us into gazing at the sun.

That’s what I like to do in my free time.

I’m probably not the only person who does this so okay, I was being self-absorbed.  I write a freaking blog what do you expect?

I’m watching a show called My Strange Addiction.  Everyone has addictions, not just these toilet paper munching thumb suckers you see here on tv.  We all crave comfort and security, but we each have our own unique way of acquiring it.

Money, power, love without compassion (validation), cravings, longings, sentiments.

Everyone’s addicted to something and it’s to escape the strange.  You want to know my unique way?

“I’m not in the mood tonight, but go ahead, what is it?”

Logic and reason.

“What’s that you say bonehead?”

Logic and reason.  Yes, there I said it.

“You do realize that in order for you to possess logic and reason, you have to retain the mind of a child?”

Oh I have that!  Most of my friends stopped talking to me because they say I’m a child!

“That’s something different, no.  I mean you have to be fascinated, curious, and be able to push your ego aside.  Not all children have a child’s mind.  If you feel entitled, or attention deprived, that is not the child’s mind I speak of.”

Well, my ego is totally shattered.  Totes my goats it’s shattered.

“It’s totes magotes, and that’s good.  Once the ego is pushed aside, you become wise enough to know that you don’t know.  Fascination and curiosity ensues.”

Okay, so what’s on the agenda for tonight?

“I don’t know.  I feel like we talked about everything already.  We’re almost up to 700 posts.”

Did you know that the average blog lasts an average of 3 years?

“I guess we made it over the hump then, huh?”

So it seems.

“Do you have any strange addictions?  Be honest now or it won’t count.”

Okay hold on I’m thinking….

I always turn on the portable heater in my bathroom whenever I go.

“Why does everything always lead to shit with you?”

No it doesn’t.

“That’s not an addiction.  It’s a habit.  It would be an addiction if you carried the heater around with you all day.  Try again.”

I log into my online banking account everyday.

“That’s playing it safe by making sure nobody hacked into your account.  Try again.”

I swear, the only thing I can think of is logic and reason.  That’s what I’m addicted to!

“You’re so full of shit.”

Let me turn on the heater.

“Here’s a topic; what’s the difference between habit and addiction?”

Habits are unaware.  Like thinking patterns, picking at your cuticles, or sniffing your fingers.

“Gross, you sniff your fingers?”

What?!  No.

Addictions are a need that can’t be changed or modified, but habits can be altered.  You can let go of a bad habit, but you can’t let go of a need.

“This isn’t interesting enough for me.”

Yeah, I know, me neither.

“Are you seriously too lazy to think tonight?  Come on Mel, you never get bored.”

I know it’s insanity!  So this is what bored people feel like?  No wonder why everyone keeps busy.  It feels isolating.

“Why does boredom feel isolating while writing vivaciously in your blog doesn’t?  They are essentially both isolating.  Expand on that.”

Okay…, well, because when I write, I’m enough for myself.  I don’t need anything to fill the void because I’m doing it all myself.

“But you’re still escaping the strangeness.  You’re still latching on to something that comforts you.  What you’re doing is no different than what others do when they keep themselves busy.”

But I hate being busy!

“You hate being busy because you already are busy.  You’re busy with your stupid logic and reason meanderings.  Can’t you see that everything’s relative?  And your so-called logic comes from your ego because you can’t escape the fear.  What you’re doing is self-defeating.  Where there is fear, there is no logic.”

But being aware of the fear – is!  Logic is awareness.  Haven’t I already wrote about that?

“None of this makes any sense and you’re talking in circles.”

I shouldn’t publish this post, should I?


Let’s try to redeem!  Let me say something brilliant before deleting this mess.

“Okay, out with it then.”



I’m going to have to sleep on it.

“You do that.”

Hey now they can’t all be winners.  Pobody’s nerfect.


It’s now the next day.  I slept on it, but still no dice.

Okay, how about this….

Everybody believes they have free will, right?

Not so fast there bucko.  We are never truly free to make our own choices so long as we are governed by the great almighty ego princess.  I call her the ego princess because she feels entitled to her thrown.  Without her thrown, she is nothing.  She is nothing because she has nothing.

“Nothing” is that great big void I keep referring to.  Just about everyone deny’s the existence of it, and because we deny it, we deny ourselves.  We are the void.

So how do we confront the void?  By facing our truest (cruelest) intensions, that’s how.

The truth is never complicated, but emotions are.  The more you align yourself with truth, logic and reason, the more you simplify your emotions.  You abrade your emotions down until there’s nothing left of them but pure intention.

This is the way of living through and from your heart.  By wearing it on your sleeve.  You don’t hide behind manipulations, power struggles, or fear – you hand over your power willingly to avoid struggle.

This is compassion.  And mostly everyone’s bereft of it.  They’re bereft of it because people don’t trust enough to let go.  They have no faith in themselves.

It’s so crazy that I see all this happening around me.  Like I’m peering into a looking glass where people believe they have full control, but they’re holding on too tightly to the things that define them because they can’t define themselves.

The ego princess.

Anyway, I’m sick.  I was hopped up on NyQuil last night because my stupid electronic cigarette got me sick again.  I really need to stop using it.

I’m in work waiting for my next client whom should be here in two hours.

I’m spent on writing for today, so I’m going to lay on my massage table with the lights on low, candles lit, and listen to an audiobook.

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Filed under humor, journal, philosophy, random thoughts, Strange & Unusual

Expressionate is NOT a word!

I’m 800 words into writing chapter five of my book.  It’s nearing midnight, but I’m still cleaning up and adding to it.  I told myself an hour ago to cool my jets for the night, but that hour flew by in minutes.  Well, technically an hour is made up of minutes, but those minutes felt like…uh…minutes?

My brain is toast and I have a long work day ahead of me tomorrow.

I just wanted to tell you guys that the word “expressionate” is not a word.  I mean, holy crap, right?  I feel like I’m in the twilight zone right now.

My whole life I used it and now I’m being told that it never even existed?  What else do I not know?  And worse of all, most everybody already know’s it’s not a word.

This gotta be the twilight zone.  What about the Law of Fives?  When the Law of Fives fails to work, there’s gotta be an interstellar glitch in the matrix somewhere.


Filed under humor, journal, random thoughts, Strange & Unusual

The Intergalactic Supersonic Weirdness of Coincidence

Ready Player One

Ready Player One (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Holy shit!  Okay, this is nuts, completely off the wall NUTS!  I know I should be focusing on my book right now, but I can’t pass up writing about this.

First off, I went to a renaissance fair earlier today.  One that I haven’t been to before.  It was a gorgeous day and stellar people accompanied me, one of whom pointed out that my favorite tarot reader was there.

I only went to see this woman once, two years ago, but it effected the entire course of my life.  What she told me two years ago, was mostly negative (if not all).  She said I will be faced with being the odd-man out (hanging man card), I will succumb to my addictions if I don’t face them, and I have to confront my fear of not feeling loved by others. She basically predicted everything, all my suffering, telling me that the next few years will be hard.

She also told me the answer, the one thing that can cure my suffering:  “To find enlightenment in knowing that Love and Acceptance are at my core being.”

(I wrote about this day here.  That’s how I remember what she said.)

She must have used the word enlightenment because back then, that wasn’t used in my everyday vocabulary.  And I remember thinking, “how the hell am I going to pull that one off?”

I had no experience of feeling or believing in this elusory core containing all that I need.  I couldn’t fathom it.  And here I am two years later, and I embody it almost completely.  Or, somewhat embody it at least.

Two freaking years ago!  When I think back on it, how everything ties in, I want to poop my pants.  I have evolved and became stronger.

I was very nervous this time around because I knew she was the real deal.  I sat across from her and twirled the clock back two years ago.  The setting was the same, same decor and tapestries.  She wore the same outfit and pirate hat.

I don’t want to spend too much time writing about my new reading, only to say that it was spectacular.  Every card – EVERY CARD!  Was positive and immense.  I studied tarot reading about a year and a half ago, and I still remember to this very day what the cards mean.  I was secretly reading them along with her.

Even The Wise Woman, the tarot reader, was astounded at all the positive cards coming up.  There was no Devil, no falling tower, no hanging man, none of that what-so-ever.

In tarot cards, there are many negative cards (of course any knowledgeable reader will tell you that even negative cards have a silver lining) and the chances of a few popping up are very high when using the law of probability and chance.  They should pop up.  But no, not this time.

“You have a great set of cards here.”  She said as she stared down at them halfway through the reading.  “A great foundation to build from.”

I already knew that.  When she laid down a card from her oily 15-year-old deck, I knew what it meant and then I listened to her own depiction of it.

“Yes, that makes sense.”  I’d say after she intuited what I already knew about the card and how it pertained to me.

My heart was bursting.  I wanted so badly to hear something about my book.

She let me videotape the session which lasted a little over 10 minutes.  That’s why I’m not worried about recording every last detail here in my blog – I have it all on video.  I didn’t ask permission if I could include it in my blog, however, so to be a good mindful person, I’ll leave it out.

I WILL watch it over and over just to let it all sink in.

Anyway, so yeah, that happened….

After the fair, I immediately drove home to work on my book.  On my ride home, I listened to an audiobook called “Ready Player One” by Ernest Cline.  It’s awesome to say the least.  All about video games and the 1980’s culture.

So when I finally got home after an hour drive, I couldn’t stop listening to the book.  I was hooked.  I burned some incense that I purchased at the fair, ate some eggs, and laid in bed listening to the book.

“This will help me become a better writer.”  I thought.  “I’m having fun, relaxing and I’m still being productive towards my goal.”  Was my logic, and still is.

The main idea of the book is a virtual reality game system used by everyone worldwide.  The virtual game system is called Oasis, although, I’m not 100% sure of the spelling because it’s an audiobook.

I paused the book and Googled “Oasis” to see if people are working on a similar gaming system in real life.  I love the idea of it.  It’s World of Warcraft in 3D.

Anyway, this is where the intergalactic, supersonic weirdness happens.  I typed in Oasis, hit the search button, and right there on the first page was my hometown.

“Huh, that’s weird.  Maybe they mean Cheshire, England?  Or the Cheshire cat from Alice in wonderland?”

I clicked the link.

Okay, now I HAVE to check this out.  I have no choice.  I mean come on now, what are the chances?  Out of all the continents, out of all the countries, states, towns, and churches, it lands in my hometown.  If it landed in any other town, even if it was only one town away, let’s say Meriden, I wouldn’t care.  I wouldn’t be impressed or amazed and I wouldn’t bother checking it out.  I’d just say, “huh that’s really cool.  What are the chances?”  And then go about my business as if nothing happened.

But I mean, this is just weird.  Isn’t it?  And even in the book itself, it mentions Cheshire several times.  Only, not as a town, but to describe a boys face.  “He has a Cheshire cat smile.”  At least twice I heard it mentioned in the book.

A similar thing happened when I was looking up ayahuasca retreats.  I clicked on the first link that stood out, and booked my trip that same day with the first and only retreat I looked up and was on a plane weeks later to Colombia, South America.  A trip that changed my life.  A trip I couldn’t monetarily afford.  A trip containing a group of people that will remain in my life forever.


Yep.  I’m going to check it out and see what it’s about.  It’s no coincidence that it’s here in my town, just like it was no coincidence that I chose that particular ayahuasca retreat.  I’ve been wanting to attend church anyway for the longest time, I just had nothing kicking me in the ass to do it.

Am I making a big deal out of nothing?  Maybe.  I don’t know.  It probably sounds like it on your end.

Anyway, back to the tarot reader.  After the reading was over, she asked if I had any questions and so I asked her about my book.  If it will be published.

“You’ll have to self-publish.  That would be best for you.”

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love this lady, but some of her decipherings were a little off.  All the cards have multiple meanings, and I watched her pull up her knowledge in remembering the meanings of certain cards, but it wasn’t always accurate.  I squinted in my head thinking, “Oh she’s so close.”

I understood her train of thought and why she read them as she did.  And she really is the real deal – she even mentioned how overly sentimental I am!  She told me not to get too caught up and wallow in it.  It’s not being in the flow of water, but in a stagnant part of the pool.

“You’re so right!”

(In this post I wrote a few weeks back about how insanely sentimental I am.)

She also described the guy I’m seeing.  He was clearly in the cards without question.

She hit the head so many times, but wavered on some.  And the times she wavered, I knew why.

So maybe this is one of the times she wavered?  About having to self-publish my book?  She did have to think about it.  I could tell the difference between intuiting answers and thinking about them.  The odd’s are always in favor of having to self-publish.  She know’s that, everybody know’s that.

I need to get back to my audiobook.  This post is a hellova lot longer than I expected and I didn’t even feel like writing in the first place.

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