Those few seeds I planted just the other day were wanting for water when I checked on them yesterday. It sure has been warm, suddenly warm and dry for the brand of winter we had for what seemed for so long. I'll have to be more attentive to temperature, fans and water in the greenhouse if I want anything to come of my efforts besides dry, stiff peat in melty black trays.
I'll be danged if yesterday wasn't a day of irrational reactions to stress and normal frustration for me. I felt as if I had to restrain myself within an emotional iron maiden all day, each instance of restraint increasing the pressure and angst within the spiked coffin wherein my passions were kept from the vulnerable world.
Sometimes I don't know why my sensibilities are so counterproductive to this very explicit society. Things are fairly predictable in their outcomes, people conventional in their actions and reactions in the public sphere, but my mind persists in seeking out the extraordinary, paranormal and undercurrent within the game we're all familiar with. And that from within the very sensitive and overtaxed psychological framework of my own mind.
I know that my terms are not realistic and have been adjusted much, and that I am continuing in that course. Nevertheless, my interior compass remains the same, and days like yesterday are hard to get through. The duality that I must practice in order to step into each new day can be a burden, but that's really what enables me to do what I have to do and still remain authentic to my inner voice.
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