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Hunger, Music, Mayhem

I'm hungry.  I want serenity and joy.  And I can hear the music in the rustling of the tree leaves, feel the ease in the wind and I imagine the serenity at the beach this weekend, the feel of sand.

And yet, I create madness over and over again.  I realize that I am the instrument of darkness that I fear the most.

Honestly.

It is I who fear that the worst is about to happen.  It is I who put the "but" in the sentence stating all that's good.  And it really is all good and taken care of beyond my petty ideas about what "taken care of" means.  I really do have a "God" complex, and the trouble is, as I've heard it told, God has a bigger ego than I do.  Go along with Her program or get dragged.

Reminds me of when I crossed the street on my own as a 2 1/2 year old.  I'm just born defiant and charmingly so.  So, I'm learning to play in the orchestra of life and stop screeching for attention.  While at the same time allowing myself to be me: which is just so darn messy sometimes.  And petulant, and bullyish, and all those yummy things that make me me. 

As someone told me today, sometimes when I shake my duster, I forget to notice if there's someone on the storey below.

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