Thinking ahead... A Precognative Nightmare
It blinks at me. The cursor... It blinks at me.
Who/what was I reading where the author was grateful that Their cursor just sat there with out making any demands of them to write something? I can't remember now.
I read so much in so many places over such a long time... Would you believe I could read before I could talk? Imagine how long I've been reading then.
And I never quite got a handle on crawling either... As a baby (as now) I jumped ahead. I went from scooting around on my stomach straight to running. Took me ages to learn to walk sedately.
I'm still having that problem with life.
I see everything Ahead of me. I see beyond the moment of Now, Tomorrow, Next Week, Next Year... I see well into where I will most likely be years from now. As I've always done.
As a child, I knew one day I would see Jim again. It took something like eight years, but he showed up again when Granny G died. At least he phoned then. Then almost eight years beyond that I saw him again... Personally this time. That was when I was 24... Let's see... We add 8 to that and we get... 34... Right? My basic math is a tad fuzzy. Give me advanced Geo any day. Meh. So anyway, that means... Hummm... *thinks* I'm how old now...? I forget. What's 2006 minus 1973? That's 33 right? So not this year but the next.
Sounds about right. But then 34 seems like it's going to be a big year for me anyway. I keep feeling it and seeing images of myself successful in a lot of the things I'm struggling with now. So most likely, I will be.
I seem to function on that odd level between faith and certainty. When I was living in the trailer, I dreamt of a house. An old house that called to me and then made me at home in it. Then it grew and called the people I loved to it because it felt my loneliness and it wanted me to stay and be happy. Soon it seemed to have turned into a town all of it's own because the people would be called but then They needed others to be happy and so on. It was a charmingly gothic old place with a constant air of being abandoned and unloved. Even when we took to being in love with it. It seemed to be of the mind that if it admitted it was cared for, it would lose it's charm.
I really loved that dream and had it often. Living in the trailer, it was the thing I clung to to survive the dementia that the trailer and its attachments seemed to create. Nothing would heal the place... Too much darkness and dark tortured souls seemed trapped there. For a time I feared I'd be one of them.
But then about two years before we moved into the Hermitage, I had the dream of the house again. And I felt it drift into reality and pull at me. I felt drawn and even went so far as to have Taz drive me around the country side looking for where it could be. It became almost a fever to find it after a time. I finally tried to put it out of my mind, believing myself drifting into insanity again.
Then... The Hermit came to me and asked if we would want his old place and an acre of land. Of course we jumped at it. The trailer was frightening when we were first there, but by the time we left, both of us had become fairly certain that something about it was killing me. Most likely there was black mold or something making it hard for me to breath.
Besides the fact that whatever I Feel translates into physical illness with me.
We got here... And I saw the house in spirit here. It was in the right area that I was drawn and it is very very decrepid and old. It Is the Hermitage after all. You can't get much more 'uncared for' than that.
Then time went by quickly and the Hermit (body and soul of the place) moved into its woods through another plane and died. I was shocked to discover that he had left the woods to me. Suddenly the dream began to take a practical form. Here was my house. The haunted little place that called to me and grumpily muttered that I didn't Have to stay... 'It's not like anybody gives a damn about me anyway.' It seems to say. And while any other using that tact would be ignored, I cuddle the place and whisper that it's ok to admit to being lonely. That it's ok to feel a need for something other than one's own thoughts for company. Like a doting great-grand neice, I mentally pat its heaving old shoulders gently and set about to find ways to make it feel more loved.
I know it will never admit that I've touched it. It's spirit is that of the old duffer that refuses help or charity of any kind but it grateful deep in its heart that somebody honestly cared about it. Of course it Has to be all under the guise of It helping You. But then what can you expect from an old timer? They have their pride you know. And it's not like the old place Demands or Whines about things. It never tells you that it needs a new roof, 'The old one will do just fine, thank you.' But you'll notice the need with out being told.
I'm sure people will say that's pretty obvious. But it goes deeper than Seeing the need. It's in the Feeling the need. And so, as time goes on, the house will get it's needs fulfilled but like a loving old timer, it will see that Our needs need filling too. Oh it wouldn't if we demanded or begged for it. That's how this works... You don't whine about how lonely you are because it's been alone for so much longer than you've even lived. It won't care or respect that you have needs too unless you can show that they Are needs and not just the whimpering demands of a bratty pup.
So when the Hermit left this plane and left the land in my care... I felt the house softly and quietly pat Me gently on the shoulders as if to say, 'I won't go saying thank ya or nothin' but there ya go... Some place to put all your young riffraff buddies. Now don't go gettin' mushy on me!'
I know that doesn't make sense to somebody outside my dreams and mind. There are other things that tell me I'm not totally insane... Yet.
Things like seeing sharon's stubborn refusal to let go of her rage becoming what it is now... A life lived in oblivion. Like knowing that certain people should be together when they don't see it or understand it. Like knowing what path is the right one to take when everything and everybody Else is yelling at you not to.
I've been ahead of the curve since close to birth. I've done things that people thought nobody could survive much less conquer. A lot of it before I was even into puberty. I've climbed Starved Rock and felt the sorrow there. I've heard the reeds talk amongst themselves in hushed gossipy whispers. I've felt the winds sigh when the day was done and the tree dance before them. I've seen the ancient ones walk by and glance in my direction knowing I could see them. I've played catch with the dead and shared secrets with those of the past. None of this is odd to me. None of it out of the normal in my day-to-day life.
Time is pretty pointless when it doesn't exist outside of other people's minds.
Oh I can keep appointments on time and what not. But in my Personal existence? Time is irrelevant. I will accomplish things as I always have... One step ahead of the game. But you won't know about it until Tomorrow or Next Year or Whenever you happen to catch up to where I was standing ages ago.
In my mind, I'm older than you. Not because I was born first but because I don't exist in the same time frame as you do. I exist in a time frame far ahead of where you are now. I've lived a number of years beyond where my body exists now. My Body is in your time frame; my Spirit, Mind and Soul are not.
It's an odd thing to have this condition. Does it exist beyond myself and stories like that of the Dragon Lance charac, Raistlyn? I don't know... How could know that? Why would I care? That's for those with time to fiddle out such tunes to think about.
Me... I have work to do. I just have to remember what it was Yester-Morrow is was so I can do it. That takes a lot of concentration you know... Muddling about trying to untangle what has been done in the future-past, what has been done in the past-future and what the devil each and all of those terms mean!
Busy busy busy... Follow the white rabbit but avoid the food and drink on your way through his maze of contradictions.
Peace within...
Your resident Mrs.Whatsit wolfy,
~(*~
Who/what was I reading where the author was grateful that Their cursor just sat there with out making any demands of them to write something? I can't remember now.
I read so much in so many places over such a long time... Would you believe I could read before I could talk? Imagine how long I've been reading then.
And I never quite got a handle on crawling either... As a baby (as now) I jumped ahead. I went from scooting around on my stomach straight to running. Took me ages to learn to walk sedately.
I'm still having that problem with life.
I see everything Ahead of me. I see beyond the moment of Now, Tomorrow, Next Week, Next Year... I see well into where I will most likely be years from now. As I've always done.
As a child, I knew one day I would see Jim again. It took something like eight years, but he showed up again when Granny G died. At least he phoned then. Then almost eight years beyond that I saw him again... Personally this time. That was when I was 24... Let's see... We add 8 to that and we get... 34... Right? My basic math is a tad fuzzy. Give me advanced Geo any day. Meh. So anyway, that means... Hummm... *thinks* I'm how old now...? I forget. What's 2006 minus 1973? That's 33 right? So not this year but the next.
Sounds about right. But then 34 seems like it's going to be a big year for me anyway. I keep feeling it and seeing images of myself successful in a lot of the things I'm struggling with now. So most likely, I will be.
I seem to function on that odd level between faith and certainty. When I was living in the trailer, I dreamt of a house. An old house that called to me and then made me at home in it. Then it grew and called the people I loved to it because it felt my loneliness and it wanted me to stay and be happy. Soon it seemed to have turned into a town all of it's own because the people would be called but then They needed others to be happy and so on. It was a charmingly gothic old place with a constant air of being abandoned and unloved. Even when we took to being in love with it. It seemed to be of the mind that if it admitted it was cared for, it would lose it's charm.
I really loved that dream and had it often. Living in the trailer, it was the thing I clung to to survive the dementia that the trailer and its attachments seemed to create. Nothing would heal the place... Too much darkness and dark tortured souls seemed trapped there. For a time I feared I'd be one of them.
But then about two years before we moved into the Hermitage, I had the dream of the house again. And I felt it drift into reality and pull at me. I felt drawn and even went so far as to have Taz drive me around the country side looking for where it could be. It became almost a fever to find it after a time. I finally tried to put it out of my mind, believing myself drifting into insanity again.
Then... The Hermit came to me and asked if we would want his old place and an acre of land. Of course we jumped at it. The trailer was frightening when we were first there, but by the time we left, both of us had become fairly certain that something about it was killing me. Most likely there was black mold or something making it hard for me to breath.
Besides the fact that whatever I Feel translates into physical illness with me.
We got here... And I saw the house in spirit here. It was in the right area that I was drawn and it is very very decrepid and old. It Is the Hermitage after all. You can't get much more 'uncared for' than that.
Then time went by quickly and the Hermit (body and soul of the place) moved into its woods through another plane and died. I was shocked to discover that he had left the woods to me. Suddenly the dream began to take a practical form. Here was my house. The haunted little place that called to me and grumpily muttered that I didn't Have to stay... 'It's not like anybody gives a damn about me anyway.' It seems to say. And while any other using that tact would be ignored, I cuddle the place and whisper that it's ok to admit to being lonely. That it's ok to feel a need for something other than one's own thoughts for company. Like a doting great-grand neice, I mentally pat its heaving old shoulders gently and set about to find ways to make it feel more loved.
I know it will never admit that I've touched it. It's spirit is that of the old duffer that refuses help or charity of any kind but it grateful deep in its heart that somebody honestly cared about it. Of course it Has to be all under the guise of It helping You. But then what can you expect from an old timer? They have their pride you know. And it's not like the old place Demands or Whines about things. It never tells you that it needs a new roof, 'The old one will do just fine, thank you.' But you'll notice the need with out being told.
I'm sure people will say that's pretty obvious. But it goes deeper than Seeing the need. It's in the Feeling the need. And so, as time goes on, the house will get it's needs fulfilled but like a loving old timer, it will see that Our needs need filling too. Oh it wouldn't if we demanded or begged for it. That's how this works... You don't whine about how lonely you are because it's been alone for so much longer than you've even lived. It won't care or respect that you have needs too unless you can show that they Are needs and not just the whimpering demands of a bratty pup.
So when the Hermit left this plane and left the land in my care... I felt the house softly and quietly pat Me gently on the shoulders as if to say, 'I won't go saying thank ya or nothin' but there ya go... Some place to put all your young riffraff buddies. Now don't go gettin' mushy on me!'
I know that doesn't make sense to somebody outside my dreams and mind. There are other things that tell me I'm not totally insane... Yet.
Things like seeing sharon's stubborn refusal to let go of her rage becoming what it is now... A life lived in oblivion. Like knowing that certain people should be together when they don't see it or understand it. Like knowing what path is the right one to take when everything and everybody Else is yelling at you not to.
I've been ahead of the curve since close to birth. I've done things that people thought nobody could survive much less conquer. A lot of it before I was even into puberty. I've climbed Starved Rock and felt the sorrow there. I've heard the reeds talk amongst themselves in hushed gossipy whispers. I've felt the winds sigh when the day was done and the tree dance before them. I've seen the ancient ones walk by and glance in my direction knowing I could see them. I've played catch with the dead and shared secrets with those of the past. None of this is odd to me. None of it out of the normal in my day-to-day life.
Time is pretty pointless when it doesn't exist outside of other people's minds.
Oh I can keep appointments on time and what not. But in my Personal existence? Time is irrelevant. I will accomplish things as I always have... One step ahead of the game. But you won't know about it until Tomorrow or Next Year or Whenever you happen to catch up to where I was standing ages ago.
In my mind, I'm older than you. Not because I was born first but because I don't exist in the same time frame as you do. I exist in a time frame far ahead of where you are now. I've lived a number of years beyond where my body exists now. My Body is in your time frame; my Spirit, Mind and Soul are not.
It's an odd thing to have this condition. Does it exist beyond myself and stories like that of the Dragon Lance charac, Raistlyn? I don't know... How could know that? Why would I care? That's for those with time to fiddle out such tunes to think about.
Me... I have work to do. I just have to remember what it was Yester-Morrow is was so I can do it. That takes a lot of concentration you know... Muddling about trying to untangle what has been done in the future-past, what has been done in the past-future and what the devil each and all of those terms mean!
Busy busy busy... Follow the white rabbit but avoid the food and drink on your way through his maze of contradictions.
Peace within...
Your resident Mrs.Whatsit wolfy,
~(*~