Mountain Air

God has peace of mind (not piece of)

I went for my morning constitutional, just got back, and it was glorious, aside from the mental illness difficulties (I usually have), such as the voice, head shocks, and occasional chest pain.

To recap: 1)chirping, twittering, flapping, fluttering, calling, clamoring birds out and about, flying and fussing with their morning activities. gliding and swooping. 2) cool mountain air to fill the lungs with a sense of clean and fresh. 3)the scent of bay (leaves), which I have always loved. 4)the smell of the earth 5)the give of the soil. 6)the crunch of gravel underfoot. 7) the payoff of vitality that an unstressful, yet not too leisurely pace, walk up the mountain provides. 8) the feel of sunlight on skin. 9) the stimulation of an internal dialog, uninterrupted, with the ability to talk to myself/whoever without appearing crazy. 10) the pairing of sense of place with a meta-awareness of the flow of my thoughts, and seeing how they fit.

My mind goes in unexpected directions, as I see a pine cone and think coney island, new york, hot dogs and york peppermint patties, and from pat to Path, (http://www.path.org/) (Program for Appropriate Technology in Health), the Bill and Melinda Gates foundation, Patrick Hennessy, and drdpat (the elements of a hiking plan: destination, route, dates and times, permission granted, activities along the way, and transportation), which sounds a bit like dirt path. That was something I taught cubscouts way back in the day, as a teenager. Also, I think of needles and what my nurse calls a "drill bit" and puncture points of pain, in addition to heroin. There are yellow reflectors, a yellow car, and a yellow line on the road. I thought of yelling ow, in the context of a young virgo virgin girl, whose hymen had broken, according to some string of associations I forget now. I thought of hymen as "hi men" and young saplings and goodly tall trees. I'm sure it's all relevant to someone. Regarding number 10, I smelled a fireplace as I walked by a house, and I thought to myself the Pink Floyd song, 'Breathe in the air, don't be afraid to care, and when at last you're home and tired, it's good to rest your bones beside the fire'...and then I was next to an (empty) firewood shed. Maybe I'm somehow (organically, or programmed to be) programming space itself for the shed owner to purchase for themselves some firewood? It's all very interesting. Or boring, I choose interesting.

Today I talked to myself with a British accent. It was fun, although I felt like I was being judged by the Brits, or somehow disapproved of, in the flow of thoughts, whether it be timing, diction, or whatever. I have fun, even while feeling simultaneously oppressed, monitored, and unfree.

To explain, I always feel like there's someone in my head. I claim sovereignty over my own mind, jurisdiction over my own body, and as landlord over my brain, expel any and all unwanted tenants, if you want to get all crazy legalistic. There is definitely a criminal element out there, to my view, even if they are technically legally permitted to enter my headspace and poke around in there. But basically, I think none of us really has privacy, even though we supposedly have a right to it. I really don't give a damn what purpose the intruder(s) might have, even if it makes a "better" world, or even a world I want. It makes my world worse, and that's not a price I'm willing to accept. Call me selfish. I really don't care if you think of this reality as "holy spirit" or even "God." Stay the fuck out.