Batter Take your Base!

 The Time is March 3, 2021 at 3:30am - (finished at 9 am )

Playing with the big boys and girls.

as I always do in each day and moment . I sit here trying to take into perspective why and what is happening to me? I sit here asking questions only to myself. Why is the devil after me? Why am I dealing with satanic people who are in actual belief of a satanic world. Am I really just deep in something that I can't explain? Deep in a cult, or an organized crime business? Its not what I thought it would be. 

 

 "BATTER TAKE YOUR BASE

." I hear from the landlord. He readies himself to pitch the ball. Can I really handle this; the ball, the pitch? Again thinking to myself.  Am I ready to step up to this base and take a swing. Feeling this sentence, halfway through my swing. its got to be a foul ball I think to myself but yet I haven't finished the swing yet. submerged upside down and in pre-thought.

    Time stops in mid motion. I can't help but feel as though, {AM I IN TOO DEEP!?} Deep in way; of; where, when, and how this future and past are going to play out. 

Judgement day is upon me.

 "Who is judging me?", I feel? Is it the guy down the street picking his nose and eating it? Could it be the guy standing in front of his television watching me dance like a fool in search of its identity and existence having no clue that its a show or a study.  I guess I fear the future and past as if its an unknown creature preying on me in search of a hot meal. It is; the unknown, the waters, the current, and this sentence that I am fearing the most. Things have become more and more aggressive.  

  

 Crunch time only leads with the best player of the game, coming forward and taking their stance on the field, readying themselves to kick the ball ⚽ into the goal. Doing nothing but that and not allowing their opponent to get in the way. I stand here tall and unafraid for I am that opponent. The opponent they are trying to knock down and bring into submission and defeat. 

    

That bridge we are crossing, well its not Abrahams' bridge to free the Jews. Its that bridge that is over troubled waters somewhere in the future of space and time, its a war zone, a conflict, a battle,  its dodging bullets left and right with no freedom laying at the end of this bridge … a life of solitude and possibly happiness may lay at the end. but one could only hope! and thats just it, ONE COULD ONLY HOPE! 

AND THATS JUST IT, ONE COULD ONLY HOPE!

 

  It came in and it out like a breeze, Boston has halfway houses that I could apply for as my {plan B.} I feel a little relieved and less retarded that if shit hits the fan and I am out of a living space I could always apply to gain residency at a Boston halfway house. my friend Anthony Michael has been doing this kind of thing  for the past 10 or so years after his mother died. 

BUT WHY??

Why but why? Do I write these blogs? Posting them on the computer and then uploading them to the internet. The answer came to me pretty quickly . I like editing and writing things . I like to be heard even if it is only myself. I like tapping into my brain trying to articulate these feelings of mine that seem to be retarded in a sense without any sense at all. I like hearing my own voice in my head as I read ,write, and re-write on the internet. Going back and fourth inside of me as if my words are magically knitting a sweater of creativity and passion. I live for the words not my paintbrush 🖌 but my words. I have a lot of time on my hands and here I sit, not in motion physically but mentally (metaphysical). my body isn't moving but mind is... with all this TIME ON, AND IN, MY HANDS, I just need a creative outlet. These blogs seems to carry me out with a justice of self gratitude. its a selfish justice. and its selfish of me. to think this is okay.  it has nothing to do with whats outside of my door and head. carefully weaving a web inside of my head that only leads deeper inside of myself with a losing light 🚦 flickering a code that makes no sense to me.

 

 These retarded feelings of mine needed to be heard and understood even if it is only myself stuck in thought.