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Monday, 27 August 2018

To the little green one

The treatment aI am subjected to is not sane. The contamination and destruction done to my apartment has not been sane, the medical treatment of me has not been sane, and the isolation of me is not sane. Ai believe today no-one can enter my apartment without me unconsciously having allowed it, which means the ones accompanying me without me sensing them must be specific people. It seems like my verandas and my small gardens are except, though, from being protected, since flowers are hampered with and ugliness appears. One thing is that on my veranda aI have a basket with many tea-lights, in three different shapes and sizes. And very often aI find a big one being forced together with a small one, content against content, so that aI must use a tool to get the two of them separated. And how will the not so well being react to that? How will the not so well being react to seeing aI don't keep the many tea-lights in my apartment fresh? Will the not so well being think something special if a specific tea light is burned out, and not changed with a new one?

Ai believe the not so well certainly will. And aI believe that the enforced togetherness of the big and small tea-light is covered with meaning, and that making it appear is not a voluntary act. Ai believe, though, that the not so well is bound up in a certain perspective. And whatever aI do, my actions will fit that perspective. So it is not so important if aI forget to change a burned out tea-light with a new one. Anyway, it will confirm. What matters, aI believe, is that aI am clear. And by being clear, to relate to.

This morning aI begun by exchanging all burned out tea-lights in my apartment with fresh ones. And aI took away a withered flower on my veranda, about to be, and aI took away some withered leaves on my yucca palm, and aI watered the little green one, and aI took away the garbage from the kitchen, and aI put on the dishwasher. And even more than this: Ai wrote this article.

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