YOU CAN SING

I thought I would read or otherwise entertain myself today, except that I am having a terrible time staying awake. The hours of sleep I’m getting each night were 2 hours a night for a week; they’ve gone up minimally to 3–4–5. During the days I have times when I go under to total exhaustion. I hoped writing might wake me up.

I tried outlining something on politics here. I hoped a good joke would occur to me. Of interest, there are several important elections and referendums going on. Everything from the surprise of Brexit to the ongoing battle for the US Presidency. What research I’ve been doing of the news the past few days didn’t seem anywhere near close enough to profound. How could I make concise statements with that sound of years of meaningful knowledge and political observation behind me?

The main feeling I have as a person is one of fear; too much fear to happily note down my alarmed impressions of the state of politics.

I then tried approaching this post with the question what do I actually write about? I had several different areas that occurred to me

Life’s Meaning? What I love in Life?

I looked back at all I’d written and know that it comes from a positive place. I love a certain amount of spiritual awareness — even a very limited telepathy is good. I have finally developed many creative interests and goals based on so much new in technology. Plans for new projects, soul mating with others participating on ideas in common or working towards the end of some conflict. Simple combat has never interested me. I think of all these possibilities because my situation now is stopping me on a practical level. I have to keep it flowing on into the future.

I thought today it was like never having been a singer, with most people around me being able to sing.

When 6 or 7 in Catholic school I was a member of a strong voiced little children’s choir. It may have been 10–15 children and both boys and girls. At that time I do remember singing well with the choir. We were carefully taught the hymns. I was so happy when we went into church to perform. Of course I thought one day that I saw the word “Requiem”. We sang for funerals of those in the church who had died.

I remember feeling joyous and solid in my knowledge of the songs. I knew we were appreciated; I just didn’t know why. When you think you can’t do something, you’ve probably already done it. In my case it was useful to the dead leaving us and their families, a time so profound that our small group sounded like a real church choir.