words that remind me

plasma - the milk of blood. the guts of it. plasma serves no metabolic nutritional purpose. but without it, we die. its what gives our blood volume. upon volume sails life. life -- this IS life. living. breathing. but not just that. its having awareness that i breathe. that my heart beats in step. that my blood flows. a true gift. living awareness. awareness that this life ... this existence ... does not define me. and i do not define it. rather, i serve as a vessel ... a conduit for the energy of existence. plasma reminds me that i do not own my existence ... i do not own my my life. my hunger ... my thirst ... my [rare] sexual urges ~ i own none of these. they all emanate from the very same source out of which the plasma flows ... the energy of life flows~that ultimate supernal source. yes ... plasma reminds me of all this.

weave - creating a complex pattern from a number of interconnected elements; creating fabric by interlacing long threads; taking evasive action. weave has at least 3 distinct meanings. however, each of these meanings shares the common thread of creating something complex from what's around - in the immediate environment. so - a weaver creates cohesive complexity from fragmented simplicity. this word weave reminds me that, as a human ... as a woman ... as a mother ... i have found myself, repeatedly weaving ... weaving ... weaving. and in so doing, adding another row of stitches to this grand matrix of existence that flows through, within and around me. the word weave speaks to me in this way.

another meme

*sigh* ... tagged by susan

1. i watched a man vomit blood to death once; it was the middle of the night in a small rural hospital~we had 20 patients, including 3 on heart monitors and anyone who came thru emergency and were the only 2 nurses for the entire building~the patient's bowel obstructed (he had metastatic cancer); and he died because the hospital's main supply room was locked and we could not get into it to retrieve the nasogastric tube we needed to decompress his vomitting gut.
2. i saw a dynamic hip screw (used to fix a fractured hip) pierce thru a lady's skin after she fell. she had fallen @ home and was waiting to have surgery to put the screw back where it belonged~she had to wait... @ least overnight with that screw dislodged and poking thru the skin ... before getting into surgery.
3. i have a tattoo - a green faery-goblim from brian froud's pressed faery book - its on my lumbar spine and we named him ~splat~
   
4. i see dead people/pets~spirits lurk about everywhere; just because U don't see 'em, doesn't mean they don't exist!
   
5. i dream things that come true and know things that i don't know how i know them.
   
6. i wear estee lauder pleasures intense perfume ... also pleasures exotic.
7. i hate asshole bosses that think they fucking own their employees, their lives and schedules. fuck that shit~as far as i'm concerned, you're fucking lucky i showed up at all! and if got a date ... or when the clock strikes 'end-of-shift' .... watch me walk out the fucking door. i don't work forced overtime, i'm no one's fucking borg and besides, they abolished slavery long ago. that attitude will not get me rich. however it will keep me sane and balance.
   
8. i am mixed; that means my mother is white and my father is brown. as a kid, i got called brown crayon and hated the colour of my skin. once a lady in the laundromat wouldn't let her kid play with me ... because it was obvious that i was mixed (i.e. more brown-skinned than white-skinned).
   
9. i despise loud noises and crowds of people ... also people that walk around or drive around talking on their cell phones - i recently saw a transit bus driver talking on his cell phone while driving the bus (i was on it - a trolley bus, standing room only, @ rush hour) - like - HELLO??? safety???
   
10. i hate call waiting and being put on hold; if you have call waiting and use it on me, i will hang up on you. that's my policy. oh, i hate the phone and typically won't answer it unless i recognize the number calling.
    

Rules Are:

* each blogger starts with eight - ten random facts/habits about themselves…* people who are tagged need to write posts in their own blog about the tag and post these rules…* at the end of your post, you need to choose people to get tagged and list their names… *

tagging: infinitesimal~c'mon girl! u r good @ this stuff ... chickory/k9~i know u hate these things, but indulge me, ok? ... not sure who else to tag ... so just DO IT, already!

the matrix of truth

do you want the red pill, or the blue pill?

like neo, we all must decide this for ourselves. its a lesson in matrix philosphy - the notion that the manner in which one seeks and views the truth colours the lenses through which s/he engages life. this question - about the red and blue pill - asks us about reality, truth and its pursuit. do we blindly accept whats been given us? what's been taught us? or do we want to press beyond ....? despite what we may find there ....?

for humanity its an eternal question.

the blue pill represents the status quo - the pressure to accept the currently held belief of truth, or risk the label renegade and the ensuing ostracism: "... many people are not ready to be unplugged, and many of them are so inured, so hopelessly dependent on the system that they will fight to protect it.”

the red pill represents pursuit of truth ... at all costs. it symbolizes the cliche: 'be careful what you wish for. you just might get it.' because once s/he beholds truth, one cannot retreat from it. to seek truth does not imply one will uncover reality that one can live with. yet, live with it, one must. therin lies the rub.

indeed, life goes on. its a gift - a breathing, responsive stream of energy that flows independently of our wants and desires and petty frustrations. living = experience + knowledge. existence = experience - knowledge. trinity said to neo, “the Matrix cannot tell you who you are.” so ... that's the question, then. 'who we are' versus the mere 'that we are.' do we feel satisfied sufficiently with the fact of our existence? or ... do we also need meaning to bring light to the painting? only you can answer that. just as only i can answer it.