no edit freezing post on pluto fire…

the thing is, i love everybody unconditionally.  this includes the men that buy little girls and boys and have sex with them, against their will.  i use that as an example to say, that i love the worst of the worst.  this does not mean, i don’t desire for them to go away and stop hurting people.  it does not mean that i wont do what is possible to stop the perpetrators.  but i still love them.  i remember feeling this growing up, and one day, i put away that love, out of fear of others judging me for it.  i love those who judge me for it. i love those who judge me for anything.  i may still desire for them to accept me.  i may sometimes desire to make them feel bad.  but i love them.  i just do.  love does not judge.  it’s not conditional.  where i get conditional is who i choose to be close to on a personal level.  i am very choosy and i have learned to cut good hearts out of my life, when they are only in it to feed from me.  i am not a selfless guru.  i am a woman on the path of love.  and discernment is  part of it the human game.  but i love everybody.  i love religious fanatics who are republican and own guns.  i love extremist right wing ignorant fear based people who take the wrong things way too serious.  i love the person who ruined my life for a while.  and boy did he do some damage.  i love him.  doesn’t mean i am not angry at him.  doesn’t mean he is isn’t responsible for what he did.  but i love him.  and i hope his soul is healing over there on the other-side.  the way i remember who i am on the other-side and on other dimensions can’t be explained, and i’ve no desire to explain, convince, or convert.  this is my experience though, so i live it.  and from this place of “being me” the love courses through.  it’s not an effort.  but there are my karmas too.  where love has been an effort.  and that would be toward one person mainly.  me.  it’s a western plague, so to speak.  i love myself though.  i have always loved myself, even when i hated parts of myself.  i never hated myself fully.  i longed to go home a lot.  still do.  but that will always be there.  some longings are a constant.  realizing lately, how scared i have been to speak my truth.  all this damn libra in the chart, i can be overly concerned about how others perceive me.  it’s not an attractive trait.  oh well.  isn’t it annoying the way this culture makes being attractive so damn important?  who cares!  i mean, i care.  i like to doll up sometimes, i am visual and enjoy the beauty of the physical…but i am not hung up on it, to the point where i deeply repress the unattractive aspects of myself.  cause we all have them.  everybody poops, farts, and is very annoying at times, mean at times, too this or too that, etc.  maybe it’s how the same principal manifests in the west as it does in the east.  like a twisted version of maslow’s hierarchy. like, once you have enough to eat, shelter, and basic needs met, you’ll just transfer your struggle to the next level.  which would be the psychological level.  inner suffering.  cause when you don’t have enough to eat, the suffering is on the outside, you need food and you don’t have it, and it doesn’t feel good.  just like those who have enough to eat, need love, and don’t have enough love, and it doesn’t feel good.  from this place in heart, of forgetting our potential and who we really are, all scarcity is invented.  lila is playing though, still.  i know how awful that sounds to say.  i don’t mean it that way, i don’t mean to minimize.  you just can’t explain yourself sometimes.  i needed to write tonight and let the mental steam blow.  my apartment is freezing from the anomaly cold front we’re having.  a little whisky warmed me up.  this is the second night i have had a whisky to warm up.  whisky is my man, i say.  both times, a tiny little bug hangs out with me, near my mouth, like its really trying to stress the message. feel like the bug is reminding me how powerful whisky is.  you should only have a little bit.  honor the poisons.  it’s a teeny little thing, that bug.  and i am growing to like it.  when i was six years old, i used to name flies and try to make them my pets.  think i used to name all of them fred.  reminds me of my nephew.  when he was around six, he named everything petunia.  everything.  from cars, to people, to fences…

back to the beginning, before this ramble tires…

i love everybody no matter how i feel about them…everybody, i love you.