Wind

I'm hearing the wind thrash outside and my tummy is blah blahing with it. I think my stomach is saying that May is here and it's time to create some babies in my tummy. What a strange sensation. The spring of the woman's uterus. Ohhhh the saints go marching out.

I'm tempted to go to Cartel, or recreate yesterday. It feels like that is what I am good at. Attempting to recreate yesterday. Following the yellow brick road back to the place where my house landed and trying to dance on the feet of the witch it landed on. Why not venture out? Do something different? This is where creativity is spawned, in the spontaneous.

Also, my anger over being walked over with Michael, or more than that, it is the knowledge that he tried to do a one over on me, using my photos as if I didn't kNOW he was going to use them...and then coercing me into letting him by having me offer...UGH it makes me sick. The manipulation, childishness, evading, non-confrontational way he did that. It reminds me of myself and when I do things like babysit to get a boy to like me. It never works people! Just be up front about it! Let it go! Do what you will but don't think that manipulation is going to get you anywhere except for lying and feeling awful about yourself.

I guess I should go ahead and confess that. Yes, Lord, please forgive me for sinning. I have tried to manipulate you into doing my bidding rather than allowing you to be God. All that does is hinder me from getting anywhere, and I desire to get somewhere. But then that brings up the unlivable reality that I am desiring to be better than you, higher than you, bigger than you. Please forgive me for that too. And the desire to kill others to win, and to envy others and adulterate myself just because I want to live in the pleasure of the moment. Please teach me to live in the pleasure of faith and hope rather than flesh.

Let's hope this wind doesn't kill anyone. Do I want to go out in it? It's the very last of the cool air I fear. It's up to the 90's after this...and we all know what that means. Sweaty farmer's markets. Yep, that's what that means.

The wind is almost knocking my picture of the black and white Eiffel Tower base down. It's creaking like an old house. Should I be freaked out by the fact that it sounds like it's haunted??