Ok so time to flip it. Ya boo đ». Though I am not in physical proximity to the panic switch – I know there exists an equivalent inside of me (since iâve added it to the draft-paper schematics of internal designs) ***message to headquarters : panic switch [OFF]***
Went to pilates last night, sweat out some demons, the clues still exist but the clues should only be assembled with oneâs head above water – so as to see [The Map] [Atlas] [AtlasX] clearly.
The songs that played on the radio went something along the lines of âItâs my game, I make the rulesâ so ima go with that. The warriors lost last night, I had been feeling the flashing signals of a minor internal coding error, a glitch in need of rewriting. Listening to the sportscasters I was reminded of the gal at the beach hostel who felt like they were speaking to her experience in the moment… haha Iâm not the only one!
âAnd tonight on The WRONG WAY weâll take a look at all the moments in the game where it took a left turn!â Hahahahahđ âAnd to all of our audience members out there out there at home, we know you are watching… you can text us if you wantâ [I would have added – on signal these days lol]
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I miss the glory days of last week when I didnât let the bullshit get to me. Walking tall in the streets of LA, even after getting my car stolen and being all ***what-the-fuck-ever you canât touch this crown đ *** sleeping in sheets that didnât bite my face off, being all posh & hanging out poolside on hotel rooftops, big Hollywood sunglasses, palm fronds and skyscrapers, watching the helicopters and drones buzz by over rainbow sherbet sunsets and laughing at the songs of the surroundings that seemed to be narrating my story in reel time.
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I think of the vendor in the fashion district who told me about his New Year’s Eve – âOh I watched some fireworks, saw some lights that looked like they were dancing, saw some stars… one of the stars was a helicopter…â i thought about my New Yearâs Eve, i was somewhere around bakersfield @ the time of the bewitching hour… Driving & jamming out to a fantastic galactic playlist, the red lights on the hills dancing to the rhythm of the beat.
I was having a damn good time of it, the art fueling me – making it fun and exciting in spite of an also-existing undercurrent of unease… wondering what was it that I was actually doing…. The camping renegade in the desert Iâd been invited to, idk I kinda had a feeling that was just to get me up and out, on a last flight (Last Flight was the headline on the magazine in the bathroom, the night I set out to follow the stars for a ride.)
***Amy Winehouse sings in my head âhe thinks, whatâs she running fromâ***
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I know I have to direct my mind. Have the map laid out in front of me, to look at the whole picture. Compass. Navigator. Check. Gonna keep implementing the little steps. Borax. Hypochlorous Acid. Yoga. Go outside. Map. Guide. ***âRide captain ride, upon your mystery shipâ*** tune floats in from a recent memory scene. Ride Sally Ride.
