Someone tagged the rocks behind my house with “99”.
Supposedly today is an astrological portal because 9/9/2025 (2+2+5=9).
Maybe it means something, or nothing. It’s all in our mind’s eye.
Chaos in my dreams last night. A bad actor trying to harm me after lies and lies and lies.
Rain this morning like it’s a Washington hillside.
Onion seeds still hanging from the cabinet. Keep calm and keep cleaning.
I did a lot yesterday, and now I’m tired. Dora is sleeping in my lap, I want to join her.
HVAC finally getting finished today.
There’s always silver linings.
You can start over any time you decide.
You can’t unwrite history, but you can stop re-reading it.
The clouds are lifting, the sun has come.
Birds are singing.
What are you dwelling on?
Dora's dancing.
Have some fun!
Done with day 5 of Cerebrolysin. We're coming back online.
We're beyond magnetic.
Met and chatted with a new neighbor of mine. She has a business in manifestation, specifically designing living spaces. Fascinating.
Low blood sugar trying to hurry up and make a late breakfast meal. We’re fine, we’re stabilizing.
You learn to navigate the roads you live on.
That sentence isn’t about driving on highways.
I guess demons are fallen angels. So it would be apt to say, “a guardian angel of mine,” once told me about Egg Theory.
Have you heard about this one?
The Egg Theory is based on a short story by Andy Weir where a person dies and meets a god who explains that the universe is an egg, and the person will be reincarnated as every human who has ever lived or will live. The theory posits that all human experiences, both good and bad, are actually experienced by the same soul over time, fostering a sense of universal interconnectedness, empathy, and understanding, as hurting others is essentially hurting oneself. Once the soul has lived every human life, it grows and matures enough to become a god itself.
So you are me and I am you, technically speaking.
And we’re all just choosing different paths and perspectives to know all the possibilities.
Makes me much less angry at the baddies.
That same person chose to keep the book Lolita by Nabokov.
We’re not meant to all be the same, it turns out. Each unique perspective is one step closer to perfection.
It’s getting later, I should go get some hamburger.
Fill your cup up, it’s getting later.
