Feeling for eachother-email and occasional meets' has been posted as> follows:http://omaha.craigslist.org/msr/1589923037.html (miscellaneous - Bugs,4025949009@mms.uscc.net
I had a dream recently. I was on the sidewalk in front of the sideyard of 128 Cambridge (13210) with some people who were traveling to some destination with me. From out of the bushes, seemingly from no-where, came alien looking riders on large steeds. They appeard to be warriors by their dress and arms. They came out of those bushes, across the lawn,onto the driveway and then the sidewalk where we were standing. They just ignored us as if we were invisible. We could have been in another cognitive dimension for the way that they acted, though I remember one looking me straight in the eyes before reigning his horse down the sidewalk. That spetacle from what was a rabbit-hole to another world is unlike the spectacles in which we engage. We have our trappings-sensuous, sensual, or just visceral to enthrall us to attractions. Our trappings are just nuanced and subtle derivations for the sake of social propriety of what we crassly seek in circuses, horror houses,and wax museums. ...
Focused Emotional Intensity How you feel about something is the crucial determinant, than what you think about something. 'The What' can always be modified. 'The How' is the guiding inspiration, motivation, and premises for what you think. It is the organic and visceral articulator of your intent. There have been too many times I was ignorant to logically wrong. Because I had a genuine integrity of conviction for what I was doing 'things fortuitously happened'. Many times they were forebodings and warning. But there were as many, if not more times when significant serendipitous or synchronistic interventions turned what was a miserable prospect into a marvelous outlook, if not opportunity. If you have read me prior to this, then you know of the genesis of this in January 1960 as a safety patrol on a blustery winter's pre-noon day at the corner of E. Genesee and Westcott Streets. I was out their sulking resentfully in the misery of missing who would become ...
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