What shall I write about today ? First of all, ever since discovering that little button that enables full screen writing, I have been using it by choice and am delighting in it. All that glorious white space. Nothing between the title and the first paragraph. It is just totally great.
What shall I write about today? I could write about things I don’t like. I could write about the hangups of people in my face. I could write about the Pharisees and their rigid peabrains creating problems for society unawares.
But I prefer the bliss of this white blank space, and scrolling through postaday2011 posts. In other words, I prefer to count my blessings. I knew about WordPress years ago. But I heard how much work it was to set it up, so I went to the website and then left it. So I am very lucky I can join today, things are so much more simplified and visual. At least I can get a typing already. I just might give the website stuff a shot, the html, css sql stuffs. Hmm. Let’s just do this But I still have to get to the photo part of WP first. My blog is still image deprived.
Before I die, let me set up my own website with all the cool stuff in it. According to the MagBook that I bought about building websites, it is doable and preferable due to the amount of control that one has over it.
Before I die, let me write one hit song, along with making the music on it with let’s say GarageBand. That means I will have a lot of music learning to do, and the tech stuff of garageband and how to put things together. Am I making a bucket list ? Seems so.
The death of Amy Winehouse taught me one thing. As I pieced together her life and understood her from there, she was just a girl who loves singing and making music, writing songs from who she is, where she is. She enjoyed hanging out with bands and like people creating in exploration her art. She enjoyed collaborating with other musicians. She enjoyed her little world and like any regular girl enjoys the drinks afterwards at pubs (being Brit). If in New York and other major cities, probably out clubbing.) And drinking till she falls down the stairs becomes a story for a laugh, like stories of comparisons of battle scars.
She didn’t care about being important. She didn’t care about being in ‘who’s who’s company. She didn’t care much about the empire of gold that got thrown her way, it wasn’t her main goal. She didn’t care to be anyone different when she got hit big.
Which unfortunately, because she wasn’t prepared for it, had no inkling of what it was like realistically past the point of being appreciated and heard for her music and getting great money in the process. Her fame became her downfall. The chemistry of her fame with the person that she was, became her downfall. Away from her little work hard, party hard world, she got swept into the big commercial world where everybody takes over her life and even little buggers hanging on to her as husbands and boyfriends. The game had changed. But she had not. The game plan needed changing, but everything was moving too fast for her. She did not realize it. She thought she was in control. But not. The fame whisked her away and she never could swim back. She wanted to remain the same, she actually did. But she didn’t realize that, by just her externals changing , everything toward her would have changed, and that would affect her, force a change on her and her experiences .which she died from. She actually needed to change with it, to stay on top and in command, instead of being swept away.
Well anyway, what’s this got to do with me? It is about life decisions for me to ponder. If I am happy the way I do things and don’t seem to tolerate peabrains for example. Really, big time. (I seem to be still peeved at a peashot directed at me today. Really really tiny peashot but still irritates my figurative skin) Then making it big time into the public arena may not be a particularly good idea unless I have backup options available.
I enjoy discovering processes. I enjoy affecting people in a deep transforming way. Nothing gives me the juice and the high than to see destinies changing, of the individual and family and all those who come after them, because of them.Well, only for those who have ears to hear.
So yes, back to counting my blessings.
The amazing gifts I have been given. The talents that get to mature. The ecstatic joy that they bring me.
Oh, if I am bestowed the gifts and talents, then it would be really arrogant of me to call the peabrained, peabrains, right ?
This is huge. This calls on me to mature as well. Wow. Let me sit on this awhile.
Peabrains call for patience, understanding, compassion and if possible, education. Not for me to throw back a splat of pea puree.
Did I just still call them peabrains ? Well, what would you politically correctly call them then ? Whatever nice names you give them their characteristics remain the same don’t they ? Peabrain remains peabrain till the brain is no longer a peabrain. Then the noun is irrelevant!
A fresh new blessing joined this post !
This post is written by a brain allowed to roam for it.