Where Emotions Hit You, Visualized

http://gizmodo.com/where-emotions-hit-you-visualized-1492142190

Very interesting.  I would like to see a wider range of individuals from different backgrounds.

Yet look at Love and Happiness.  To me, those seem to have the biggest impact on the majority of the body.

Dear Universe,

Whatever karmic debt I had going on, consider it paid in full.  Now leave me the fuck alone.

Sincerely,
Kaycee

Lights

I haven’t hooped in a very looooong time.  So I decided that this past weekend, I needed to.

I’ve got some major life changes coming up.  I’m scared.  I’m anxious.  I’m heartbroken.

I thought to myself that maybe a little blindfolded meditation would help me tap into myself.

It’s what was needed.

Well, I didn’t have a blindfold with me this weekend. So I just shut my eyes.  Real tight.

And hooped.

Nothing fancy.  Just around and around my core.  Breathing in.  Breathing out.  Becoming aware.

I took notice of every point the hoop made contact with my body, and my body’s reaction to the connections.  The give and take of every moment shared between the hoop and I.

I breathed.  I felt.  I listened.

At the center of all this….I found me.
Scared.   Anxious.  Sad.

I connected with that part of myself……and that familiar voice….those familiar words came…

“You will be ok.”

And I knew this to be true. 

At my very core.  I knew this to be true.  Despite all the fear.  The self doubt.

I allowed myself to be in that moment.  To feel those feels.  To cry those tears and just be.
Because I will be ok.

I may still feel scared.  I still may feel anxious and sad.  I still have no idea of what to do with all the hurt,  but my infinite being knows that it will all be ok.   And that’s pretty reassuring to the part of me that is stuck in the muck.

At least some part of my being is able to be the sound of reasoning.

Alien Dreaming

I’m back in my old childhood bedroom.  I’m “sleeping”, laying in bed, and my ex husband is there with me.  I don’t see him right away, but I feel him laying next to me.  My eyes are closed, and I start to drift into that state of waking.  Something feels weird.  Suddenly I’m fully aware that something is going to happen. 

I FEEL as though “they” are about to come.

And as soon as that thought goes through my head, that feeling that some shit is about to go down…..3 quick bright green flashes go off in my head accompanied by 3 loud clapping noises.

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!

They are here.

I can’t move.  I can’t scream.  I can’t wake up.  I can’t wake up in my dream, and I can’t wake up for real.  I’m stuck.

I often have had bouts of sleep paralysis, but this was really….weird.

The flashes.  The sense that there was someone…or something there.

I tried to call out to my ex husband in the dream, but again, I couldn’t move.  I couldn’t make my voice heard. 

Then I was up and above our sleeping bodies. I could see him.  Laying there.
I tried again to call out his name and to help me.  Nothing. No sound.
I didn’t want to go with them.

Then the presence of what felt like a woman was there.  She was talking to me.  Telling me things.  What, now I can’t recall.  But it suddenly hit me that whoever she was, was an alien.

Then I woke up.

Now…I have all kinds of “explanations” to this dream.  I just finished up the second season of American Horror Story, and if you’ve seen it, then you know what I am referring to.
I am also reading Communion by Whitley Streiber.  Personally, I think so far the whole story is a crock of shit….I mean, he wrote the Wolfen for Christs sake….not to mention the Hunger.
You can’t expect me to believe that this is a true story.

Setting all that aside, I’ve always been freaked out by the possibility of alien life.  Especially the stories about Tall Greys.  Up until a few months ago, I couldn’t pick up this book….all due to the creepy scene in the movie where an alien head peers back at Christopher Walken as he tries to make out what the fuck is moving about in his doorway.  (Actually…I’m kinda of getting a tid bit freaked out now….as I type this up in a dark room with nothing but the glow of the screen…..*gulp* )

Or maybe this dream is just another peek into my subconscious….a place where I feel trapped and scared, and there is no one there to help me.  No great protector.  My husband once was that for me.  Hence why his appearance in the dream.  A symbol of safety. The “aliens” if that’s what they were, a change that is occurring in my waking life, that has me feeling unsettled and uneasy. 
I dunno. 

But what of the flashes?  The claps?

I seriously hope I wasn’t abducted.

Fucking weird man.

An Open Letter to Shitty Husbands, Vol. 4

Maybe instead of lurking around and trolling those skanks, you should be placing those energies and attention on the one person who has given you her heart and put up with all the crap.

Just saying.

Mo Money…..Mo Math.

I had my meeting with a counselor at the local college to talk about what I need to do about going back, and what all I have to do to began my path into social work.

(Yes.  I am that insane.)

Seems I’m not all that far away from obtaining an associates…which doesn’t mean shit really….but it helps for when I transfer to a 4 year school that actually offers a BA in my chosen field.
So, if everything goes well, I should have my Associates by end of summer 2014 and I can move on to a 4 year university.

There are just two things that worry me.

The 1st is, well…money.  I have no idea of how I am going to pay for all this.  I’ve just been going along all willy nilly like it’s not an issue….but it is.
I obviously will have to apply for financial aid, and the deadline is fast approaching if I want to get my butt in the door for spring semester.  (Which doesn’t start in spring….more like begining of winter…as in january.which if you ask me….is not anywhere near spring.)
I was told that I need to petition an appeal for Financial aide, due to my poor academic standing from previous terms I had attended…. Back in early 2000’s I had attempted to go back, and well, I had a nervous breakdown of sorts.  If I was more than 5 mins late to a class I would freak out and start having panic attacks.  The thought of having to walk into a room and people looking at me, ensued panic attacks.  Getting out of my car to attend class …..would ensue panic attacks.  So I just stopped going.  I didn’t withdrawl from the classes.  I just didn’t go back.  It would be a few months later, when I started therapy, that I learned that I was suffering from depression and agoraphobia.  In hindsight….I should have withdrawn from the classes, but I was so freaked out by people.   Large groups of people.

I’d try again a semester later and did pretty well, with the help of therapy and medication.  Then I lost my job, and that was that.  I think that time it was too late to withdraw from some of the classes.
Both times I wasn’t receiving any financial aid per se.  I did get involved with a program that was designed to help those with disabilities, and since my depression was considered as such, I was able to go to school those two semesters.  Again, having to drop out towards the end of the one due to the programs restrictions of either helping to go to school, or helping to find a job.  Since I lost my job, paying the rent became the priority.  They found me a job and closed my case.

I would go back again in 2005, this time, paying for it myself once again.  That semester I did very well.

Even though my grades were a big improvement from previous years, it wasn’t enough to squeak me past the title of Poor academic standing.

So I need to show documentation of any kind of medical treatment I was receiving during the early 2000’s.  Problem is, is that the center I was going to, doesn’t seem to exist anymore.  The therapist I was seeing….I can’t get a hold of her.  If it’s her.  Nor do I have the time to chase this woman down by driving 45 miles out of my way to where I think her office may be.

Soooooooo…..I dunno.  I’m not sure how this part will play out.  I don’t really want to start taking out loans….but if I have to….I guess I have to.  Uggghhhhhhh.

My second obstacle is….Algebra.
Fuck you algebra.  With your enigmatic varibles and fancy letters.  I don’t
Want to find your x….she probably hates your guts as much as I do and doesn’t want you to find her.
Creepy stalker.

Algebra just really frustrates me.  In the sense that I think over the years, mathemeticians have just complicated it more than it needs to be, to make themselves feel all smarty pants and high and mighty.  To me a number is a number.  It represents a value.  That’s it.  There is no need to confuse numbers as integers, absolute values, bastard numbers…whatever.
And no matter how many times I am shown how to do said equations….and no matter how to a T I follow said equations…my shit is always wrong.  Somewhere along my calculations, I am thwarted by the evil demons of algebra.
Not to mention when it comes to word problems, the shit on the test is never worded the way it was in class or in the dumb homework.
Algebra and I…..nemisies forever.
Yet I need a stupid math class in order to obtain my associates.  Let me clarify this….I need a level 1100 math class….so any math class before that 1100 does not count towards my degree.  It doesn’t count towards anything….and with the way things are between algebra and I….I should probably start at the 4th grade level.

So that could prove to be a hinderence in obtaining said associates by the end of summer.

Hopefully though (as I am a hopeless…hoper.) All will go accordingly.  The gods of school funding will smile down upon me and feel me worthy and I will smite algebra in it’s ugly twat face .

“Think About Your Troubles”

A little reminder.  This is all greater than me.  I will be ok. 

The world misses you Harry.

It’s for Your Future.

I’ve been absolutely miserable as far as my whole job/career thing has been going.  I’ve been really struggling to figure out what path to take as far as this whole debacle is concerned.

I’ve never really had a clear vision as to what it is that I would like to do.  Growing up I wanted to be a myriad of things ranging from Barbarian to teacher. 

I just never felt “called” to one particular area.  Well. . .that’s not true.  The area’s I did feel called to, do not exist.  Or don’t pay the bills.  Is there a market for a Sorceress tree whispering author? I think that market may be over saturated if I am not mistaken.

I’ve just always been lost.

Or math has gotten in the way.   Fucking math.

What usual happens is that I will start down towards a direction of what I think I might find interesting and then half way through discover that it’s not what I really want to be a part of.

And again, the things I did enjoy doing. . . not paying the rent.

Fucking rent.

Anyways, so yes.  In a rut.  Big time. 

I can’t even find another gig to get away from the shitty and oppressive gig I am at now.  I’ve sent out numerous resumes to various places, and haven’t heard a thing back.

Lately I’ve been wondering if the reason why I am not hearing anything back is because I need to do something incredibly drastic with my life. . . like going back to school.

I have been toying with this thought for quite some time, but the fact that I don’t know what I want to do exactly has always squashed the idea.   That or again, the areas that I would be interested in going into, are very cut throat and I would end up owing more in school loans than what I would make should I even get a job in those fields.

However, working the schlub jobs I have been working, don’t leave me feeling all that satisfied either.

The thought of going into a specific line of work has been creeping more and more to the forefront of my mind. 

So I decided one day to seek out an acquaintance of mine and get their take on it.  After all, they themselves work in this area. . not the specific genre that I think I would like to pursue, but they would know about the path in regards to obtaining a degree in this field.  And if it would be worth it.

I don’t know this person terribly well.  We see each other randomly, and when we do, we usually chit chat about music, as we both have the same love and zeal for obscure artists and bands.

That’s pretty much what our conversations have been about.

So when I approached them with what their thoughts were about the whole business, they immediately looked at me a bit skeptical and asked if I was that crazy.

Not a good start.

However, as I yapped on about how I have always thought about going into this field, but always felt deterred by the lack of pay, the scarcity of jobs and the politics involved, I also revealed what an impact one of these people had on me when I was a kid.

This person listened intently and then suggested that perhaps what I could do was just to make an appointment with a counselor at the local college and just see what I would have to do in regards to following this route.  To get a clearer picture of what exactly I would have to do.  They also pointed out that even if I found later that it wasn’t something I really wanted to go into, it was at least a start.  A start to getting up off my ass and doing something “productive.” Something that would help me feel as though I was letting life just pass me by.

All of which I have been dragging my feet on.

However, I took their advice and set up an appointment.

I sent them an email thanking them for their time, and that in a way I did sort of feel better about things.  That I didn’t feel as “stuck”  I do have options.

So a few weeks go by.  My appointment isn’t for some time, and in a way, it falls wayside to the back of my head. 

So a few days ago, as I walked out to my car for my break on a cold and dismal day. . . feeling quite lethargic and ho hum from my mind numbing work morning. . . I see this message waiting for me from said acquaintance.

Every breath you take, from now on, It’s for your future.”

It caught me quite off guard.  I sat in my car a few minutes feeling my eyes swell with tears.  It was exactly that small glimmer of hope and encouragement that I needed that day.  And everyday after that.

It also caught me off guard because it was from someone that I don’t have everyday contact with. This isn’t someone who is privy to the goings ons of my life.  

The fact that they took those few seconds out of their day……that they thought of me….thought about how I am struggling with my path. . . . and chose to send me those words. . .that reminder to keep pushing forward….well. . . Let’s just say, it does restore some sort of faith I lack in humanity.  I was incredibly touched.

The smallest gestures people.  I am telling you.

And because I love to be all serendipitous about life and it’s “hidden” agendas and meanings. . I like to look at this as the universe’s way of letting me know, that I am finally. . .getting back on track.

I hope.

 

 

Catchin up

I have so much that I want to post and yap about, though lack of time and resources have been a major factor as to why I haven’t.

I don’t have a computer these days, so the past several posts of mine have been hurridly thrown together and typed up on my phone. 

I used to be able to jot stuff down here and there at my old gig and then just copy and paste, or email to myself to be posted at a later time.  But not this new gig.  They monitor EVEYTHING.  Every key stroke.  And even if I could jot here and there, there would be no way I could save what I’ve written.  Or email it to myself.  Cause that is considered a big no no as well.  So as of late, I have been writing.  Like actual pen to paper.  So there are quite a few subjects, rants and other retardness that I have been thinking about . . . I just need to get them all on here. 

Problem is, I just don’t feel like it once 5 o’clock hits.  I just want to go home and not think. And not spend the next 3 hours typing on my phone. 

God that place sucks the soul out of me.

I have tried regurgitating a few posts during my lunch. . .sitting in my cold ass car for the half hour that is alotted to me. . . but like I sad, I feel rushed.  So most of what has been posted here feels to me, to be all gobbley dee gunk and not put together well, thought wise.

I can tell you that my life as of late has become quite sedative and uneventful.  I haven’t hooped in god knows how long.  It’s sad.  I haven’t done yoga in god knows long.  In fact I haven’t done anything really to nurture my being.  Why?  because I have been so bogged down by this stupid ass job, and trying to get the fuck out of it, which has been proving to be quite difficult.

All I know is that I need to do something with myself.  And soon.  The fact that I am growing older isn’t sitting well with me either.  And while yes, I am young compared to some. . . in my head, there is this constant anxiety that this will all go by so fast and then what?

I just don’t feel there is much time left.

I have no idea where this anxiety is stemming from.  Or why it came about.  But here it is.