Friday at long last! I replied to one of my old, buried "pending" e-mails to a friend, and still have two to go. The weekend is slowly sliding all the way to us. Hope it will just last as long as it took to arrive. Sweet Hyne, this one has taken so long to arrive! Work has me currently in a mental deadlock as I'm trying to figure out something. Ah, you know, maths. I feel all borged* up trying to find the point where numbers would yield to me and make things clear again. If brains were a muscle, I'm sure mine would be all firm and bulging. Then again, due to the stiff deadlock I'm into right now, I could be joining Tennessee Ernie Ford singing Sixteen Tons, or in my version "Sixteen TB's".
But not everything is work, work and more work. Yesterday my friend Al and I went to have our now customary Thrusday Tea. Weather was leaning towards rainy, but that wasn't so bad as the exceptionally bad traffic. My originally planned route was blocked because TRUCKS were snail speeding at bridge. Then self-entitled morons drove around like the road wasn't wet, nor were it packed with other cars. I would say than one day they'll have a crash and see the wrong of their way, but I know one too many imbecillic drivers to be so naive about their perception of the world. Costa Rica is the only place in the world where imbecillic drivers and incompentent local governments seem to dare each other about who can drive the rest of the population to stay out of the streets, as gaping, deep holes (including manholes with no covers) creep on you just like morons with Captain America complex. (I've seen outrageous bad driving in other places too, but there streets are usually drivable.)
After dodging the raging, motorized stupidity on the streets, I managed to get to the Post Office to drop a letter for a hopefully new penpal, then met with my friend for tea. Haven't gone out postcard hunting, so I'll have to leave that for the weekend, so I can flood later on my friends' mailboxes with them.
My friend Al was looking exceptional. After hitting a rough patch for some time, now she has picked up herself and whatever she's doing, she's looking fiiiiiine. New purpose in life and strenght that flows again through her like a goddess through her chosen oracles, reflect upon her with inner light setting on her beautiful, porcelain features, and her clothes, fitting and confident, show the change in the way she now sees herself. No more neglect, no more looking at herself as some sort of posession of someone else. Now she's her own person, fighting for a just and personal cause, realizing that yes, she deserves respect, happiness and opportunities, that's she's not to pay for the "priviledge" of being trampled over by others, who delight in abusing of her and using her to pin on her their own wrongs.
In the mean time I'm still flying high in the wings of limitless love. My lips itch... I want to kiss, kiss the world. My throat trembles as I want to laugh hard and sing at the same time. Borged up or not, as the thunder rushed through the sky and hits down in loud claps, lightning finds echo in my heart, as that whole energy seems to have be caught in a universal web of love and energy, part Earth, part lightning, part rain, part wind and I am the web and part of the web, and as strings cross through me, I'm conneted in and out of the world. With nature, with people, with energy, with spirits, ideas, concepts, books, maths... and love.
Isn't it... fabulous? Like an energetical bondage of love and energy.
*Borged: stupid reference to Borgs, from Star Trek. What I mean to say is that you get thinking all mathematics, in blocks, with no emotions, in a tight deadlock with numbers, while the rest of the world is feeling in emotions - cheap and valuable, fake and authentic - sighing in the throws of feelings and other human components.
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