This Morning (updated)

I saw news for the first time in awhile. Sort of loosely following Ghadafi stuff as well as other news while trying to pull things together and stay calm with regard to my son's abduction and hostage situation.

Now that I have enough information for calling a spade a spade and squaring with the facts, I am not going to refer to the CPS 'case' as a case anymore. I have a lawful and reasonable right to refer to the situation as a hostage situation.

My son was literally abducted from me and I was too traumatized to even understand how many laws were being violated at the time. The only thing I could think about was my son's emotional state, and then I was kept in a state of PTSD and out of work, money, and housing so I was completely unable to grasp the magnitude of the cover up of a very real crime.

I don't care how some in the U.S. have spent millions to put a gloss of "legality" over crime. My son was kidnapped and is currently held hostage, period.

I do not accept anything less than a criminal investigation for public corruption.

So now that my mind is finally clear enough (and I've had time to research a little) to grasp what the reality is and has been, I am also following some other things too.

I saw the breaking news with Obama this morning, where I saw the news about the earthquake. It was on the channel with Diane Sawyer. Really incredible but it was just a short clip so I looked up more of the news online.

I listened to some worship on Pandora which has been good. One song I love that I haven't heard a long time is "Praise the Lord" by The Imperials. Debby Boone also sings a version of this I think. I had forgotten all about The Imperials!

When I heard the song "I Can Only Imagine" by Mercyme this morning, I allowed my imagination to be free and saw ice skating routine. First I imagined this ice skating routine and then diving.
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I had an intermission here. Ran out of computer time and then had to wait 40 minutes and then I got on and it wasn't allowing me to search for a long time.

I wanted to finish my thought!

I saw a whole skating routine and then I saw diving. At first I imagined something (not an impression--a choosing to imagine) of someone turning in the air with a straight body but arms to the side or folded in. Then I imagined plunging into the water, but as one person dove in with all the air bubbles and stream I imagined those funnels coming up from both right and left, having divided from the first source. Then coming up and insecting like shoe laces or a DNA spiral or jet stream but then winding back and forth, up through the water and then on parallel sides, becoming figures holding torches. Who then, each of them, first had the torch in one hand torward eachother and then opening the arm out to the other side like unlocking a gate and a tree budding into this space, or the boughs and everything leafing out and filling the space newly created with the void made when the torches were moved to the side.

Just imagery. Apropo maybe for a song like I can only imagine.

With the skating, I pictured full movements individual and between two (partner skating) and at one point, facing eachother and holding hands and swinging their joined hands back and forth for a moment like rocking a child. I imagined several ideas for skating. Too bad I'm not a good skater myself. And one part where it is an embrace to the heart and loses all technical skating everything but becomes only this, an emotion.
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Last night I had a short waking dream about shoes.

I went to a clothing closet or second hand place or vintage store, whatever, and was told I could take whatever I wanted. But I looked and I didn't like any of the styles and none of the sizes fit. Even if they had fit, I didn't care enough for any of the styles. Then I found a pair I thought might be okay and when I picked them up I saw they were not the high heels I thought they were. They were a child's size. They were a little girl's shoes and I looked at them and thought they were cute and wondered about little girls wearing high heels. They were black and had full on heels, not just small platforms, but they were like for a child that is elementary school age, not even pre-teen. I think they were black suede or something. They were not smooth leather or material, there was a texture to them. They were the only ones I picked up and then when I saw they were child's shoes I left and didn't take anything at all. There were people waiting for me outside but I don't know who they were supposed to be. And it was sunny outside and a clear day.

I forgot all about this clip of a dream until I was at the gym and watching CNN with Obama, in the ladies dressing room. This girl came in with worn out "Dorothy" shoes, the maryjanes covered with red sequins and I said to her that I liked them and it reminded me of this little girl I had once babysat who had shoes just like this. And then as I commented about her shoes, I recalled I'd had a dream about shoes this morning.
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Then I woke up with one of these homeless women trying out their psychic testing on me.

Haha, which, after waking up with 6 or so different women staring at me in the middle of the night...I wondered if guys or women in military bunks ever have this experience.

Do some of the military ever wake up repeatedly at night, only to find different people sitting up staring at them in the middle of the night?

And I wondered if some of the sniper type are more predisposed to wake up and be aware of this, somehow, subconsciously or if it happens to other types too.

(for some reason...good energy right now)...4:27 p.m.

So something else has happened again, with these women. A few days ago, several of them did this again but not in the middle of the night. I was sleeping in a little, with the blanket over my head because the lights had already been turned on, and as they went out the door, I found myself pulling the covers off whenever one was staring at me before they went out. I think I did some of it sleeping and some of it while awake but resting.

And then this morning something weird happened.

I turned and rolled over to stare at this woman who was holding up a pen in her hand, right before she was intentionally dropping it onto the ground. I don't know what the heck she was doing..waiting to see if I would turn? but I did, almost like I anticipated the pen was going to fall for some reason, but I didn't think about it and just turned knowing she was focusing eyes or attention on me and then she did this.


Then, here is how unconsciously I do some of this stuff, on a little separate note...last night a man came in the door and it was just one person to seat and he hadn't said anything. Someone said to me, "Can you take 1?" and I said, "Yes" and joked to him that I hoped he didn't mind but it was just going to be me and him at "The Round Table" and I'd try to make it exciting for him. So he started joking back, in a frickin' English accent. I seated him at my only table left, which was for 5 people and it was this round table and then I went back to get his rolls and wondered, "Was he just joking back with the English accent? or was that really a British accent?" and then I found out it was and I said to him, "How weird. That makes it even funnier." I think after I found out he was really with an English accent, I lost my relaxed mode and walked in this daze in the back of the kitchen thinking, "Am I a mutant?"

And then I thought about this guy who had been at the bookstore before I got to work who did something to indicate to me he was psychic and reading something about me. I thought, "Why does he want me to know?" and then I started thinking of a book idea, of these children raised to be psychics, in terrible conditions (with secret unshared stories and wishes for liberation but conflicting feelings because of the way they were groomed into what they are), or some of them naturally, or adults who discover they have these odd gifts and unconsciously seek out "their kind" even if some are from opposing sides.

I really wanted a typewriter last night. If only I had a typewriter and a room of my own.

However, I feel it is better to be with a lot of people right now because there is more than one witness and testimony as to my sanity and I'm not stuck with just one person who may be someone who wants to work against me or say things that are not true. If I don't know the person already, from my youth, I don't have time to discover if they are a trustworthy roommate/housemate or not.

The night before or so, I sort of did the same thing, where this guy said, when I said I hadn't caught what he was saying, he said, "Oh I was just talking to myself" and I joked back, "Oh okay! then I know you don't need a translator." And the next thing I know, as they are staring me down--all of them quiet all at once, one of the guys at their table DID need a translator and this woman next to him was trying to help him understand the menu and translating to me. I had no idea and I don't know why the quip about translation came to mind before I even knew there was someone there who needed a translator.

I thought it was so funny (when I was back around the corner).

Still this sense of praying or good energy and it's now 5:05 p.m.

It sort of made me think about all these times when I've said or done something and it affects someone and I don't know why. Sometimes they've asked, 'why did you just say that?" or when I've given something to someone, I don't know what it meant but it must have meant something to them bc he sort of freaked out and then asked why i had handed him that book. I said, "I don't know, something to look at?"

I decided to get a little more time at the computer and looked up 'psychic children' and then trauma of child psychics (will study some other time). I found a link to an article by 'thespiritofmaat.com' called 'super psychic children' by drunvalo. Some kind of distinction between 'indigo children' and 'super psychic children' and government reports referred to.

Yesterday I read some poems, one called "The Garden" by Andrew Marvel and thought, at the part about stumbling across melons and pulling on the fruit, I pictured Charlie Sheen acting this out in a dramatized way, sort of goofy like drunk on the fruits of the vine. I had the idea more SNL style. Read some different poems because they're short and I can fit them in, like magazine or online articles and they're complete. I don't feel like I have time to read a novel right now and i like reading books mainly all at once. I also read Tennyson 'The Road Less Traveled" which is still one of my favorites. I first loved it in school, from a poster on the wall and I get new meaning from it now. Also liked this one about the child...A short poem about "falling out" and then kissing above the grave of a child" and it refers to the child of the newness of their love. Also read the locus eaters. And I read Blake's Tiger and laughed at the line comparing the tiger to the lamb. Which was weird because on the way to work this song 'baby got back' was bursting from a store.

This man on the bus last night had ears just like mine. I barely made the bus. I didn't plan it and don't know what got into me, but I thought I had missed the bus and then I saw it! across the road and I sprinted across the road but it was ahead of me so I raced and the doors were already closed and it was leaving and I ran alongside it, and swung my bag up against the window next to this man sitting them. WHAM! and he looked at me and I didn't even think about how I had probably scared the life out of him and waved and smiled and he asked the driver to stop.

I used my left hand and threw my side into it and I had this burning sensation like I'd torn a ligament and thought 'oh no, all for a bus". but I was fine and it went away.

I am almost out of time now...library is closing.