How are you, and is God dead?

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It’s not destiny. There isn’t a PUPPET master up there, toying with the delicate balance of 7 billion human lives +however-many-billion more of nonhuman lives.

It’s energy. We are all energy. Energy attracts and repels, is neither created nor destroyed blah blah, etc. Energy is our makeup.

I’m not experiencing déjà vu on this doorstep because of some master getting his kicks for his illustrious plan. I’m not tingling with the magnetism of been-there-done-that because of capital-D-destiny or a glitch in the Matrix.
Each choice we make branches a different path – a parallel universe, and déjà vu is the shiver of familiarity when 2 or more of my Selves experience the exact same moment across universes.

We don’t find ourselves in these Moments Of Commonality – often surrounded by the same souls, hence the tingle – because it’s Destiny, or Planned, or Meant To Be. We all end up there because our energies attract. Because we jive. Our Selves, on an elemental level, vibrate at similar frequencies, and we pulled each other in as Close and Personal as it gets. We Connected, if only for a moment.

Déjà Vu is a shared experience along all the millions of versions of you, reminding you that, at your core, you are You, true, honest, and raw, and that You is whom you need to listen to.

Instinct. Energy. Magnetism. That’s what life is.

Trust it. Trust You.

War in a post-war building.

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Last night around midnight, my lovely neighbor-to-the-north decided it was the best time to declare war on her dusties. So she plugged in the vacuum and scraped it across her floor (read: my ceiling) for 45 minutes.

If you’ve never been in this lucky position, it sounds like someone is taking a saw to your piping while simultaneously scratching nails on all the chalkboards. I’d gone to bed at nine, knowing I’d have to be awake at the ungodly hour of 7o’clock, and you can imagine how frustrated I was at this.

So, naturally, I did what any rational adult would do and stomped and banged on the walls and screamed “shut the fuck up; I’ll kill you.” until I was satisfied that she’d heard me.

Maybe I’ll put a sign on the front door…

mixed tape

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If I could travel back to 1993, I would make myself a mixed tape. A gift to 25 y/o me. On it, written in fine-point sharpie over white spike tape, it would read “for your anxiety. Slay Your Dragons.” with a heart.

 

Mixed Tape: This is my jam 2014

“Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons
“Sail” by AWOLNATION
“Tainted Love” by Marilyn Manson
“So What” by P!nk
“Gangham Style” by Psy
“#Selfie” by The Chainsmokers
“I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” by The Proclaimers
“Clint Eastwood” by The Gorillaz
“We are Young” by Fun.
“Wild Cats of Kilkenny” by The Pogues
“Ricky Ricardo” by KAPTN
“Wake Me Up” by Avicii
“Clavicle” by Alkaline Trio
“Shoulder to the Wheel” by Saves the Day
“Again I go Unnoticed” by Dashboard Confessional
“Hands Down” by Dashboard Confessional
“This Bitter Pill” by Dashboard Confessional
“Drags and Squares” by Sloppy Meateaters
“Send Me (On My Way)” by Rusted Root
“You Oughta Know” by Alanis Morisette
“Because You Loved Me” by Celine Dion
“The Wind Beneath Your Wings” by Bette Midler
“I believe / You’ll Never Walk Alone” by Barbra Streisand

Plugging my ears with earbuds after sliding my shades over my nose bridge is a transformative moment for me. Every. Single. Time. New York morphs into a much more manageable city, catering to my whim, as the people blend into the environment, becoming nothing more than a cooperative piece in that which is the soundtrack of my life.

We all have our devices for how we cope with the world. We create our own realities, form it around our own neuroses, and weave it so thoroughly that some of us don’t even recognize the difference anymore.

 

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