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I go to the fancy restaurant on the beach once in a while. I almost never order anything beyond a sandwich or a salad, but it's the ONLY place I don't feel I'm being poisoned and the view is amazing and the bartender there is literally the only person here with whom I can converse and be understood. He's usually too busy to talk much, but I like his energy anyway, and I wanted to stave off the grocery store and get out of the muddle of my own atmosphere.
Nobody was there. VERY slow night. He asked how I'm doing. I told him I'm worried I'm being euthanized. He popped off on a rant about Codex Alimentarius and cancer cures and Tesla and Chinese medicine and psychic energy and IQ and not being able to stand to stop studying except to go to work and have I ever heard of the Nephilim and harmonics and the unified field and idiots with NO understanding ....
This is the guy who sang SORRY that night a couple years ago so pretty it made me cry. I'm always wanting to go on tromps with him and figure out everything in the world... because he has the energy... the ability to get there... go there... communicate.
I think he finally groks that I'm not after his body. He's bringing me a book tomorrow. Thanksgiving.
I just got an email from the tribe, wishing me a happy Thanksgiving.
Whut?
Commemorate those hungry ghost pilgrims? Columbus invading America? I rather think not.
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