Live and let live is rarely encouraged by most holy people if they are given opportunity to have power over strangers. That puts me off.
Even so, when it comes down to it in my own life battles, I find the only place to turn in desperation is to something far inside and yet far outside myself. There has to be something which is a source, for want of a better word, which can clear the fog in me which inhibits productive action and peace of mind. It matters not whether it is real and tangible or not. One thing I know, and that is that all that is is not necessarily visible or detectable through the normal senses. Science backs me up on this. So does experience.
this is from a few years ago, my first time at the very left edge of the continent
I find it hard to justify by logical proof, yet certain experiences, and the fact I am still in this life, cause me to believe some thing or invisible entities have influenced matters in my life a time or two. It would be swell if they'd come fix me now.
And there is some fixing to do, I can tell you that. The stupid part is that I should be able to do the better part of it myself. It is like trying to drive with the parking brake firmly engaged. Why I have trouble releasing it is the question. And knowing it needs releasing, what's stopping me from doing it?
I'm trying to straighten out the trivia that clutters my environment, my mind and life, yet the brake is there in a way I feel. Like trying to keep your eyes open in a boring lecture and losing the battle. For motivation, I am attempting to convince myself that I can become more available to have a hot woman in my life. One who won't just bring drama and crazy trouble.
Already the drama and crazy trouble variety cross paths now and then, but I've learned to sting and run before becoming embroiled in all that. It is not the way to go.
Maybe I will never be better, good enough for what I want.
In the mean time I'll run political campaigns like an armchair quarterback, and try to avoid owning a handgun or lethal doses of morphine.
It seems trite to discuss spiritual aspects of life, claiming I'm not religious but I'm spiritual. What's that even mean? Maybe I'm not religious but I'm a desperado. And I'm sure angels like me. Despite myself, I'm sure something other dimensional and fairly powerful likes me because I'm unusually lucky in ways that I outwardly do not deserve. But, perhaps there are reasons which aren't all that visible which earn me the consideration I've received. Not to be immodest, but I suspect so.
Now, to exercise simple courtesy by taking care of the gifts I've received. That is the key, the problem, and the goal.
I still believe in elves and angels.