Bingo Gas Station Motel Cheeseburger and You’ll Be Gary Indiana

I am breaking my posting fast to remind you gently that time is fleeting and life is so much more than shapes on screens. We are in various degrees and flavors of a sick trance. We have been conditioned over generations to behave contrary to human nature.

We are in crazy times, and fear is king, quite by design. Don’t let it move your lips or your fingers. Don’t be a slave, a host, a robot. Acting from a place of love, of self and of others, is the only sane choice in any situation, virtual or otherwise. 

We get overwhelmed by our lives, especially now in this constant state of fight-or-flight. We like to pretend we are the pawns of an indifferent fate or the chosen ones put here to show the “right” way to those we judge as ignorant. It feels good to push the pain onto someone else, for a split second, but every sound echoes.

Remember who you were as a child, before you let the world take it from you. You are still in there, and the love you need and cry out for can come from your very own heart, but you have to leave the game that drains your power. You want to be a chosen one? Choose yourself.

We are part of an incredible world, but not one of us is above it all. We are one species, on one planet, in one galaxy of a teeming astonishing universe full of splendor we can barely comprehend. Our senses give us only slivers of reality, which we then shrink and distort through calcified habitual thinking and slides of our childhood traumas. We all have so much to learn, and to un-learn.

We live in terror of death and afterlife, yet we avoid running our precious lives authentically, and Heaven and Hell are made here and now, by us, the children of God, with our choices, words, and deeds. The Word is what makes us what we are. How foolish we are when we use it to hurt. We all stand guilty, and we can all be redeemed with the will to change.

I left the daily use of Facebook because it’s shiny and sugary and tacky and nasty. I goof around on the others while there’s still a sense of play. The sales pitch for social media in general is connection, but the reality is too much pretense and too much mudslinging. I don’t blame anybody for getting or staying hooked because it’s designed to hijack our neurotransmitters and emotional wiring, but I’m gonna ask you to consider if it takes more than you get from it.

Criticism hurts the wielder as much as the recipient and does nothing to improve the world. The “others” are not yours to fix. Compulsion to control is a toxic dead end. We are only in dominion over ourselves. No one changes until they’re ready. No one understands the depths of another well enough to pass accurate judgment. We throw darts to distract ourselves from our own self-crucifixion and pretend no blood flows at the other end, even as the streets run with it.

We are the puppets of our pendulums, haunted with a thousand ghosts, until we turn to witness them and remember that these shadows and parasitic thought forms are not who we are. We are so afraid to see ourselves in the light of truth, and so committed to our characters. We build the illusions and armor up over a lifetime, a hundred miles thick yet as fragile as a cobweb. So long as we live under this spell we are soldiers, slaves, cattle, batteries, but never quite human.

We are made to be individuals and to revel in the novelty we can bring each other, not divide until no two can share a room without a war. Don’t let the machinery transform you. Resist the call of the hive. You, and me, and everyone would do well to heed the ancient warning:


The Greeks carved it in stone for a reason. Life is a gift, a gift that is wasted on competition and comparison. The meaning of life? It’s no mystery. The meaning of life is to find out who we really are. And once known, and once accepted, and one loved, how could we indulge in such pointless cruelty?

I leave you with that question, and one suggestion: reduce your psychic footprint in the anti-social media. It is a graveyard of the spirit, and the people who built it are literally trying to control your mind. They have patents and prototypes. They’re getting it done, and they are not stopping.

I love you, stranger or ally. Please love yourself enough to leave the shadowplay behind. Somewhere inside each of us are wounds we hide, wounds that threaten to leak poison and bind our hearts with scar tissue if we ignore them and our reactive behaviors. Abandon the verbal hologram and stop participating in all the emotional violence that has been normalized. As the old song goes, “don’t help them to bury the light.”

Remember the world where we actually spoke from the heart, with truth and love. It’s still there, but if you can’t find it, build it.

That’s it.