Recently, my life has fallen into such a hyper-mundane phase that it is hard to say anything about it. Setting the tone for a day of laziness and apathy, is my morning ritual of writing in my “ESP” journal, in which I write down some of the colors & shapes that are floating in the air around me- along with my best guess at their meaning- until I get too exhausted & find myself scrolling through facebook instead. I have been doing this for a few months now and am on my 4th notebook.
Aside from a couple things I learned “from the ethers” which sent me into a state of shock that has taken me about 2 months to recover, the funny thing about my ESP journal is how hyper-mundane it is. No mystic secrets of the pyramids, but an endless stream of details mostly about my husband’s life and business transactions. Why that? Why not winning lottery numbers or perhaps useful information pertaining to my own life? I don’t know. I guess I haven’t yet learned how to adjust the frequency of my antennae.
One rule of ESP seems to be- the more a person wants to keep something hidden or even push it out of their own mind, the more it shows up highlighted and spotlighted in the invisible realms. Same with lies. It is as though there is a siren and a strobe light attached to them. Which has made me incredibly annoying to my husband, like a nightmare wife. Whatever little details of his day he would most like to forget, whatever tiny thorns are lodged in his side, are the first things to show up in my pictures.
The unrelenting trivia of it and the fact that most of the trivia is related to other people (usually husband, but not always), does leave my wondering what the point is. (Yeah, I was drinking straight lemon juice, SO WHAT!?!)
And since I was too in shock, for a while, to follow my normal routines, I have also spent a lot of time indulging in languid and miscellaneous interests, usually involving either planets or colors. One day, for example, I lay in front of a green lamp to see what would happen. Being a practical sort of person, I hoped it would make me rich. Instead, it overstimulated my brain so much that it was impossible to sleep that night. In the place of sleep were red lights which flashed inside my body, each one lighting up a horrible image of catastrophes that could befall either myself or a loved one. I became painfully aware of how little I was doing in real life to stop these bad things from happening. I swore to myself that from then on, I would be a different person, living by the book, and dutifully following the advice of experts in every field. When morning finally came, though, my limbs were so weak I could barely move. By the time I regained my strength, the feeling of eminent death and disaster had faded, so I ate 2 king sized bags of M&Ms to celebrate & let my dog have her favorite dinner- spaghetti.