today to taste the bitter reality of a fruit given so freely, a fruit ripe with the passion of disgust and hate.

standing there she looked at me with thoughts of seeking every atom in my body to blow away and be destroyed.

she considers herself to be a trainer of mules but she is better at raising goats and cows. she really likes cows.

I was there to apologize for a something very important to me, something which happened years ago and in my head only seconds ago.

It is understandable to be hated for actions designed to harm or inflict injury to the hater. Wars between nations, religions, families, are often the results of such injury.

To be hated for love is the worst pain of all. Jesus understood this and now i do. So, because i am not Jesus, far from it i do not have the capability of accepting the pain with an open heart, thus i will now accept the new side of this shell I’m forced to wear.

I will now become the perfect illusion of whatever emotion is appropriate for humans to stop killing my trees, to stop the horrible looks of hate and disgust. I will be a chameleon until the time for this shell expires. And then I will be very glad to visit a world where love is real.

“ratta ratta ratta trat…”

standing near to where a tree grew up

Tall and proud,

firm of hip

pointed hands to the sky filled with wind music

and sighs.

Water, a precious gift

there and there again

cascading droplets…

soothing…

In patterns of knowledge there is a layer atop layers upon layers of ‘knowing’.

Some people believe they have power such as Trump and being a ‘powerful’ president.

The knowledge to be a shapeshifter sounds impossible until one that controls the shapeshifters by making them ‘think’ that it was their choice.

Lead by a power of knowledge where the price of accepting means total obedience…Ha! Amazing how blind the knowing powers are.

Layers atop layer upon layers of ‘knowing’.

Players:

1. Dimensional awareness and the ability to alter time/physical substance/magic if one prefers the moniker.
2. Alien identity filled with knowledge of sorts reserved for those gifted in such ability.
3. Spiritual knowledge of something such as God, god, gods, or actually being one of such.
4. Biological life of the simplest single cell to the vast array of a living planet. Each and all filled with the basic knowledge of what they might be, could be, or are.

Just four of countless layers. And layers. And, shit, layers remind me of cake! I love cake.

In a story some know as the Garden of Eden, it was not by accident that Adam and Eve discovered they were naked and tried to hide from God. So too are the most knowledgeable full of their greatest weakness…pride.

To walk naked and be spat upon, tortured, ridiculed, mocked, hated… and smile in return while seeking only peace for those ignorant enough to think they ‘know’ power, this is the ultimate knowledge that takes only the true ability to realize what lives inside everything on every layer atop layer upon layers of ‘knowing’.

Peace

or is it 555?

Maybe 111, 222, 333, 666, 777. or the joy of painting?

Made it 7 seven days, a record, and utterly failed in changing the thoughts…

shit.

damn.

Keep the brush moving or it will stop.

Take the almighty brush and swirl.

Avoid a pattern.

Alive.

Little things happening.

Everywhere.

Don’t take it out, mix it up, stir it up.

and that’s how a crayon picture clinging to life with a magnet on a refrigerator comes to life.

So load it up.

Load up the paint.

Let the paint play in the sky.