Sometimes, I feel like a collection of straws in a jar. Other times, I feel more like a bundle, or a cable, a sleek thing made of the universe, tightly bound, whippy and effective.
If things are very good, I feel like electricity in a conducting medium, in fluid that connects all things, and I can reach all parts of everything at once, and there is no time or system pressure; I can evaluate things as they affect the whole, and I can sense where I am needed and when, for the benefit of the whole.
When I feel like straws in a jar, I get to choose what to focus on; however one also feels like an ant in the long grass. It can be difficult to see exactly how one thing affects all of the other things. One must keep moving, or have no perspective.
I think a lot of people feel like straws in a jar, and most of them respond by picking one, and making camp. They choose their role, you know, and play it forever. It’s tedious.
After decades of observing the ground people stake out, and the straws that they cling to, I now completely avoid the Victims (Victims are easily identified; just pay attention to the first story they tell you about themselves) the Oppressors, the Martyrs, the Predators, the After-lifers, Politicians and the Lazy, but when I see a Brilliant Mover, I attempt to board their vessel. I want to knock past their defenses (which can’t possibly apply to me anyway, I rationalize, as I want nothing from them and therefore cannot harm them) and I get next to them, so I can see them properly. Naturally then the goal is to convert into a fluid state, and mind-meld.
It’s a heady way of being. Two of the things I’ve stopped apologizing for in life, because there is no way for me to stop doing them, are disregarding people who don’t want to do the slightest work and falling in love with the extraordinary.
For the protection of the people who live in fragile constructions of reality, I could probably devise a simple three-question test that people could take to decide on their own whether or not interacting with me would be helpful or disruptive to them.
Questions like “Would you rather play Candy Crush Saga or lick opium-laced honey off of David Bowie’s sweaty neck while solving a mindpuzzle?”
If anyone gets hung up on the details of the question and cannot immediately choose option B, or if they value a mythical version of an Afterlife more than their present actual life here on Terra, they should exercise caution when contemplating dealing with me, as I will fail to provide workarounds for them.
I can’t (and I won’t) be more (or less) helpful than that.