An old fart's Declaration of Independence? I talk to trees.

    Something at Poetic Outlaws yesterday, about exodus-ing the slings and arrows and madness of living on this world, aroused me to respond. It got a bit more exciting around the middle part...

An old fart's Declaration of Independence?

I wake up each morning sort of wishing I am not still here. Yet here I am, so there must be more for me to experience. What I resent about heading toward 82, is parts of my body don't work as well as they once did. One part has not worked right since 1969, when it suddenly stopped working like it was supposed to, and it has given me a very hard time ever since. I sort of learned to cope with it, after medicine proved unable to help, and herbs, meditation, visualizing, health clinics and different kinds of healers proved unable. I spent a lot of money for nothing. I realized it was intelligent when some things I tried seemed to be helping and it punished me horribly. I concluded it was karma, for something. My messed up shitter was joined by the other elimination system, when I was diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2020, and had radiation therapy early in the Covid-19 shut down, and that was the adios for any romance I might have hoped might not come my way, again. My toes, feet and legs are numb and coldish up to the knees, but I can still walk, I can drive to the grocery store and wherever. My mind still seems pretty sharp, if I ignore increasing difficulty with life-long dyslexia and the vertigo spell an ear doctor fixed with what he called "the log roll" exercise. And, I seem to forget things I'm supposed to do, more frequently. I'm taking a med and Prevagen and an herb for that. Otherwise, I take no meds and my pulse, blood pressure and oxygen efficiency baffle my doctors. No way I'm headed toward 82. I can't swing a golf club any more, without throwing out my low back and ending up in a wheelchair maybe for the rest of my life. My L-4 and L-5 decided to fuse naturally, X-ray and Cat scan showed. The real kicker was the MRI didn't reveal a brain, and that's when the Government was called in. Also influencing, I was claiming to be in steady communion with angels known in the Bible ever since a life-changing jolting event one night in early 1987, which convinced me 100 percent that God exists, which, of course, I can't prove, any more than the Government can disprove it. What most seems to perplex the Government is not that I don't have a brain, but I seem able to think and speak and get around without a brain. I keep trying to convince the Government that angels needed my brain for something top secret they would not explain to me, and, they jerry-rigged my spine so that it became a substitute brain. That was really interesting, because an ET race had to be brought in, which had learned how to do that kind of procedure. Of course, I didn't tell the Government about the ET thing, because that's a sure way to get locked up with the ETs the government already captured and stuffed in cages in Area 51, or somewhere nobody who knows about Area 51 ever heard of. For all I know, I'm in an underground cavern under the South Pole. So, how I am I able to let you know about this? I can project myself anywhere I want to be, unless the angels don't allow it. Right now, I'm sitting on the sofa in the living room of my apartment in a gentrified apartment building in Birmingham, Alabama. I have lived here two other times. This is where I end up after I quit running away from home, again. What most distresses me about getting old and decrepit is, humanity has not yet figured out that it loves its pets- dogs, cats, whatever- more than it loves its elders. This is evidenced by humans take their old, ailing pets to veterinarians, who kindly exodus their pets out of their misery. While old farts like me are expected to live until the Lord takes me, no matter how much I am suffering. Of course, there is a good explanation for that. The longer I live, the more money the medical profession, hospitals, physical therapists, pharmacies, pharmaceutical companies, assisted living facilities, nursing homes and hospices stand to make. That's the deal. Well, I need to stop now, because I hear my minders walking toward my cell in the Government's top secret black site. I don't want to freak them out by not being here when they get here. They would never figure that out and probably one of them would get blamed for it and end up in my cell.

    Something else in the same Poetic Outlaws offering caused this to come out of me today.

I talk to trees 

The apartment building in which I live is across the street from a public park, which is much more lush than when I lived in this building in 2000 and left on adventures I could not have possibly fathomed beforehand. The park has a community garden, and I was able to get myself a small plot where I grow edible leafy greens and herbs. The trees in this park are much larger than when I lived here before. New trees were planted that grew fast. When the trees have leaves, they are quite spectacular. Also, the ground shrubs were left to grow wild and they went really brambly and lovely. There are a few benches in the park, and from time to time I sit on a bench and stare up into the massive trees of different species. Sometimes I take a small pillow and put it on the bench rail and lie down and stare at the massive trees. I talk to the trees, and to Mother Nature. I asked them one day, why don't they take charge and rid the planet of the invasive species that is destroying it? I went into an altered state that lasted about an hour. I was not really on this planet, but I was very much on it. I really can't describe it with words. It felt wonderful. I was dizzy. I was fully awake, aware. I thought it might be like being on some kind of drug, but I had not even brought a bottle of water to drink. After that, I found if I sat long enough in that park, with my eyes open or shut, something came over me and off to somewhere else I went, but I was still here. It was like getting an ethereal massage, but what kind of hands were doing it? I've been a mystic for a long time, so I am familiar with other-world sensations. Yet, what happens in the park seems somewhat different. I think I will go there today. Perhaps the pair of owls that hung out in the park for three years, then went elsewhere, will be there. Perhaps I will see the peregrine falcon that tried to snatch the owls' baby will show up and not risk being driven away with all due speed by the mother owl, which I witnessed. Of course, I viewed the owls as a "sign." Just as I viewed their departure as a "sign".

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