A long time ago, I worked with
other human beings. I considered the
animals in my way and along with me, to be part of what makes up my life. I eventually realized that ‘In My Way’ is
also ‘Along With Me.’ I, also,
eventually understood that there are chemicals such as silicon and oxygen that
make up the fluorides and aluminum nitrates that shape up, make up, and
sometimes shake up the sandstones that direct and sometimes dictate my walking
and keeps me from some ways. I am not
the only one who does this. I have
friends that realize microwave transmissions are parts of their breathes and
radioactive ionic walls make up their thoughts and particles of words. There are so many friends out there. They may like me. They may hate me. They may not even notice me, made up or
not. But any one, thing, nothing living
with me is a friend. I have to tell
myself.
These days, the people I work with
act friendly towards me when we walk into each other in the hall or ask where
they are on projects that we both work on.
I act friendly towards them when I attempt to park in the company’s
parking lot and when our boss introduces new finishes we need to do or directs
us on how to respond to possible and not possible customers.
People, I’ve got to keep telling
myself, my friends are not me. But then,
I am not my friends. We are
individuals. We do not know what our
friends want or need or feel. But then,
I don’t really understand all my wants.
I cannot interpret and react livingly to my feelings. We all have thoughts and wants and do deeds.
Back when I was growing up, I had
to act friendly towards fellow students. Fellow students riding their bicycles,
because I wore my patrol boy belt and kept track of the stop sign, cars in the
streets. A bunch of fellow students
walked the sidewalks to learn at school.
When I was growing up other students acted friendly towards me, well
when we had to walk through the aisles to pay attention in our classes and when
them and me had to sit at the same table as a bunch of mes, such as when we
were told to eat our lunches.
To myself, I looked at them and
disbelieved, but I had my own thoughts, words, and interests. I had to learn that they had their own
thoughts, words, and intentions too.
They, all of them, individually of them, they looked, smelled, and
emotionally reacted to heat, smoothness, and interactions according to what
their own electron communicating areas of their, each our own, brains, bodies,
and what we called and call now “THOUGHTS”.
My mind began calling my
neighbors, my fellow students, my teachers, even my parents, ANIMALS. My realizations came that squirrels keep
scratching around my back door. Rabbits
hopped along the yard, slowing up and digging where I had my chair or where I
walked. I looked at spiders but did and
still do not despise them. I hit rolled
up newspapers on mosquitoes. I cached
flies in my hands and fed them to my turtles.
All that stuff is alive and has feelings and thoughts and none of us are
the same. Even the modules in the
waters, cells growing in puddles. Each
and every one of us things are things, even if we are parts of other
things. We have to exist with each other
we do not feel, see, or understand what any of us others thought, worded, done,
do, will do. That must be my will
because I think I do it. I think you
think too but I cannot think as you think.
My down the street neighbor said
there’s a possible new planet in our solar system. In my feeling, from the heat and bumps coming
out of my mind, I sense there is no new planet in our solar system. And that tells me that your solar system is
not the same one as my solar system, but was I told by words? Systems are as systems don’t. Do drawings hold up to my eyes? Is sleepiness the cuddling of what I think is
my head?
When I was in the grocery store
the other day, I was buying my weekly and low current amounts at home of
different items. I looked at oranges but
I no longer like them because my blood has too much sugar. I really do like them but I tell myself I do
not like them. I bought white bread
because my brain does not like it when my tongue likes cinnamon swirl bread
with all that good tasting sweetness in it.
Finally, once when I was watching TV,
I realized that I liked old time shows.
But did I like them or dislike the newer ones? I asked myself, “Am I really watching these
shows or is my mind making up what I tell myself is funny or interesting and
some sense of myself is telling me that that is what I heard or saw?” Do
you smell TV? Does your neighbor feel
the magnetic waves of their favorite radio show?
Life went on as I walked to school
when my neighbor third grader flew his multi dimensional space copter to his
classroom. I ran my chalky finger on the
black board to answer questions that my toes observed from the Salt Stalactites
that Stalagmite have their own individual brains, but I don’t think they are
individuals, or is oxygen doing the thinking for me, and forcing me to claim it
is my mind because of what they do to us
who claim we are living beings. What Might Might but this existence is
full of Mites.
Bee me here and Bee my hair
because my heirs heard me before the Ice Glaciers herded me. You might have
seen the rain but with my slight, I’ve seen me reign. Then, again, compared to
my Sun, I’m not too bright. And if you go ultra, violence or violet, my tooth
is bright.
Be my neighbor as she sheds some
music to my ears, when she thinks she is painting a wall mural. The electrons in my joint muscles distract
and disobey the magenta of the local police.
Magna Cart Me Off. It is their
policy, not my polished Ice, See. And
when you Sea it again, it will bee another Ice Berge.
I hope you have a good year I hope you like reading this I hope you will read some of THESE
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