Days pass

This morning I woke up to the sound of rain, therefore I pulled the covers way up over my ears and went back to sleep. At 8:30, I got up and said, “Good Morning, Freddie.”

Made the bed; put on the same clothes from yesterday and wantered into the kitchen. I made my honey and vinegar water; heated it for a minute and sat down to drink same. Yesterday I had decided to start my blogging habits over with a new Why I Blog post. Also, I wanted to read post from those faithful friends who have remained with me even though I never read anything they wrote, or very little. I was immersed in my own world and forgot to remember that many things were going on in their world as well. How could I have forgotten that the world did not revolve around me?  Their support was invaluable to me through these last 2 dark years and I thank them.

Then I found that I could not login from my iPhone for whatever reason. Blogs in the Reader were strange; friends blogs were not there; I do not know where they may be, perhaps there and not here.

Here is where I am most days but there is where I might be other days. There I find many people wandering around with blank stares seeing what I cannot see. I wonder if that is the same expression on my face. Some days when there, people are weeping; I do not speak to anyone there and decide to return to here.

Knowing that the phone will not ring; no one is coming and I have only the one call to make each day, I settle into the couch to think, sometimes to write, watch the birds and squirrels and wish I knew why for so many reasons.

Why are people trying to change our here? If they do not like it here, why not go back to there, wherever their there might be and stop trying to change our here? They come and wave unknown flags. Is our flag not good enough? If not, go back to wherever the flag is from and wave the flag there, not here. We have our own flag. It reminds me of when I was in Paris and the natives thought I knew their language because of my last name, but I did not know many words in French because I am from here, not there.

The above there is not my there. When I go there, it is an invisible there I have created to escape from my here. Sometimes my here hurts to much.



6 thoughts on “Days pass

  1. I don’t understand the contradictions of people. They hate it here but we should let millions come here who carry their flag to live here where it’s terrible to live because it’s a better place to live? Huh? I think all these contradicting people don’t know who they are.

    “Here” hurts for everyone at some point. The perceived duality of this world is surely a challenging experience. I’m finding it challenging just to get through this “after-Christmas” stretch of winter.

    Warm hugs.

    Liked by 1 person

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