This morning’s vision about taking pictures of a car that didn’t belong on the Newtonian Garden’s Apartments complex was interesting. In the vision I was taking the picks from my kitchen window and amazed they came out so well, complete with license plate numbers and everything. The dark brown car struck me as a Mercedes sedan.
It was around 3:30 PM in this vision. It was overcast, cold and damp outside; me feeling this through my open kitchen window.
Somehow, I get the sense when I reflect on this dream that my inner witch is telling me to keep an eye out for people in my environment who do not belong. “I’m not vigilant enough already?”
I ran a two-hour meditation this afternoon that I just didn’t want to end. The charge running through my body felt really good and I was super relaxed. But one can’t stay in that state forever.
I talked with my nephew here in Jersey for a while yesterday about the dad situation. He and I seem to be on the same page as to what I should do with regard to Slick Willy. Ignore communications and let things ride for now. So, that’s what I’m going to do.
Legally, I can’t do anything that will truly stick as of yet and most current available options are simply a waste of energy. Part of me feels like my self-entitled father will open the door for me to take legal action against him at some point. But, for now, “We wait and see.”
Neither Mom nor Dad were really followers of rules, even though they expected us to. “How did I turn out normal?”
Oh well. Dad will just have to find someone else to help him in future. I’m done being used. If there’s really an ethical problem with ignoring the man’s existence going forward, I’m sure I’ll be informed of it soon enough. “It’s all good!”
I’ve been cruising along with converting The Live’s of The Mayfair Witch’s book series to MP3 files for my own personal archive. I’ve got maybe one more night’s worth of work to do on it, then I’ll be done.
I also want to get an SD card from Amazon to keep a local copy of my cloud files, too. This way I still have everything if I run into financial trouble and have to drop services or go to live in a tent for a while. “Is it really homelessness if you choose to capitalize on the situation?”
It was nice of Ellen to offer me the decorative Christmas sled my mother made and gave her years ago. I understand her reasoning behind it; Mom having passed on and all. But Mom gave it to Ellen and wanted her to have it. So, I politely declined.
I guess it’s strange to people that I don’t worry about keepsakes so much. If someone wants me to have something they can give it to me while they are still alive. Otherwise… Stuff is just stuff.
This business of fighting over wills and things just doesn’t interest me. I really don’t want anything from my parents’ estate when they are both gone because there’s simply too much bullshit surrounding it. Besides, I’ve got a pretty clear understanding of how they acquired what they have and none of it sits well with me. “Give it to charity!”
It would seem to me from what Dad has begun telling me these days that their so-called estate and intentions as to what he and Mom both wanted to do with it has all been one big lie anyway. So, now I’m working to reconcile with myself the fact that there’s a good chance that both of my parents are, and always have been, liars.
Maybe when all of us are finally dead and in hell we’ll have a family reunion. I’ll be sure to stop by and pay my brother a visit when I get down there, too. He shouldn’t be too hard to find as I imagine he’s probably hanging out with Michael Jackson touching Satan’s kid.
Anyhow, it is what it is, right? I’m sure as hell not going to lose any sleep over what “may” happen next.