we act out the same behaviors and injustices perpetuated against us. These patterns can be offset by the cultivation of an awareness of the relevant cycles coupled with a decided intent to transcend them.
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I could be a helper while I grow up.
Diet Sunkist is the only soda that will be touching these lips. Have you had it? It doesn't taste like diet.
I could be a healer while I grow up.
Have you ever had almond milk? Oh my goodness, you have to try it. If you like Almond Joy, you'll love almond milk! Almond milk tastes just like Almond Joy.
I could be a liberated soul when I grow up.

In our neighborhood (retention) pond, there came to live a pair of geese this past winter.

This pair of geese then had three baby geese. This pair of geese then raised their three baby geese in our neighborhood throughout the spring and by mid summer, there resided in our community, a family of five fully grown geese.

Over the course of these few short seasons, we had come to know, love, and fully support this geese family. We all took turns offering food assistance and there was an understood (gentleman’s) agreement that this particular family of geese was to be considered residents of the Lakeside Townhomes subdivision–all rights hereto appertaining and homeowner association fees waived–until they could get on their little webbed feet. All this kindness why? Well, for no reason other than (having intimately observed and coexisted with them in their little geese world over time) this neighborhood came to freek’n adore that particular family of geese.

Well, long story short, on July 16th, 2010, our worlds were turned upside down by the unprecedented sighting of not one, but two, families of exactly five geese wobbling the mean streets of Misty View…and it gets worse…

There was absolutely no way to distinguish our dearly beloved family from the new kids on the block- the alien from the understood- the foreign from the familiar- the unknown from the well known. We were, as a community, overcome by feelings of resentment, confusion, and doubt.

Our choice, however discomforting, was (ultimately) simple and straightforward enough. We could either extend equal love and consideration for both families–knowing full well that one of these geese families was brand new on our block and in our tiny little worlds (in other words, without ever knowing for certain which we had shared the original two seasons worth of memories with)–OR we could continue on by treating both with that same (initial) sense of distance, distrust, and suspicion we had wanted to greet the intruders with.

Well, needless to say, there are currently two families of five geese residing in the Lakeside Townhomes subdivision free of charge and until further notice.

In hindsight, I’m pleased to report the whole process of Othering the new kids on the block was, in fact, unnecessarily taxing and without just cause. A little time and logic later revealed the only most rational choice to have ever made was to love both families of geese–and all of creation, for that matter– equally.

I learned a new concept today: doppleganger.

A doppleganger represents the ghostly evil clone of a normal (usually good) character.

Marebear is what close friends and loved ones call me when I quote unquote Act more Bear, than Mare.

That being said, Marebear started off as an  innocent nickname or label of sorts for less than innocent behavior I have been known to display in certain contexts. However, it has (arguably) become increasingly clear that Marebear displays qualities indicative of her own independent, uniquely evolving entity.

Consider the following:

Marebear is, in most regards, considerably less friendly or kind-hearted and (certainly) more competitive than Mary. She thinks its funny to trash things others care about, put them down for being who they are, beat them at things they think they’re good at, and make tasteless jokes (usually) at the expense of others.

This has lead me to conclude the possibility exists that Marebear is none other than Mary’s doppleganger. Now, labels are funny things though, and this conclusion may lead others to conclude Mary is none other than a schizophrenic-that is, Marebear qua Doppleganger is simultaneous with Mary qua Schizo.

So a lesson of this aside (a momentary trailing off of some lonely series of ostensibly disorganized thoughts):

Words are labels are signposts with multifarious subjective connotations and qualitative representations. Let us not take any of them too seriously, less we create more problems than laughs.

2010.07.07

"Every wave on the sea has the opportunity to embrace within itself as great an amount of water at its base as it likes. The whole ocean could be drawn in a single wave; it is possible that one wave could draw upon the strength of the entire ocean and rise with infinite power."
-H.H. Maharishi Mahesh Yogi
We have no idea what we are capable of--what we can accomplish with the mind alone.
You could move that pencil on the table with your intent alone. I really believe that.
Like we come to realize countless times along the way, our limitations are largely self-imposed.

Koala Facts

2010.07.07

If you didn’t know this, you need to know this.

Koalas are, hands down, the coolest animals roaming our grand, green Earth if and only if (as I have been told):

Eucalyptus leaves, their primary source of nutrition, affects their little koala brains in a manner analogous to the effects of cannabis consumption on the human brain.

The leading cause of death among Koalas is due to simply falling out of trees–because, when they’re as high as kites, they pretty much just decide to let go– all as a result of their diet. That’s right folks, they just let go…

In (only semi-) related news, squirrels are big pot fans. This animal fun-fact, unlike my koala point, is entirely unsurprising to me–and anyone that has ever taken to observing a squirrel, I believe, would concur. Squirrels are f***ed up little creatures. Plain and simple.

Hunter S. Thompson

2010.07.07

There will be a day I’ll want it, somewhere down the road. Stability and routine. The routinization of my day, my life. That is what my problem is:  I don’t want any of that right now.

Sean and I were at Mellow Mushroom enjoying lunch after a beach day excursion. I saw a mural with a picture of a gentleman Sean identified as Hunter S. Thompson. I had heard his name several times in passing but had never really tuned into his story. As Sean recounted the life and way of being of this cat, I listened. Enamored. Wide-eyed. What a character! What a hopelessly free, insane genius creating his own little niche on his own grand terms.

I have my whole life to fall into comfortable habits, patterns, routines, structure. Now is not that time for me (painfully clear) and it’s going to have to be balls to the wall soon. I just know it. I’ll make use of the time–but I do need that time–quite a while and away from social structure. My own niche, create my own vision of the good life– so I’ll at least have a better idea of what I’m chasing after when I reintegrate. I don’t think I’m asking for a lot or anything I’m not entitled to and yet it is out of some obscure concerns over appearing selfish or irresponsible (as opposed to odd, which I concern myself much less with these days) that I have yet to act.

Hobbies

2010.07.02

Creating novel and aesthetically pleasing lifescapes for various reality frames

Mirror

2010.07.01

Sensitive-
is still a young girl.
Overweight,
extremely shy.
Truly--deathly shy.
Dark- complected,
insecure in her own skin,
grossly aware of her own skin.
Overlooked, under appreciated,
often taken for granted.
Abandoned,  numerous times.
Sexualized.
Oppressed.
Guilt-ridden.
Constrained.
I still see her sometimes--although she is fading.
I tell her I'm sorry and she is lovely and perfectly good.
She cries.
She's still sensitive.