Journal entry #2

No more questions. No more pondering out. No more stepping aside. Trying to step around myself.

Look to the river.

Sink right in.

Or.

Flow with it.

Sink then swim. Niether. Dive in. No. Flow with it.

Guide your crazy atmospheric pressure. Guide the propelled plane. Balance the helicopter. Stationary flight. Stationary hover. Guidance systems. Alerts. Deep breathing. Deeping wonder. Look to the heart. Open your minds eye. To your side. And inside.

Its okay. I am myself. I am okay. No more wondering. When the Lord knows me. He knows what He is guiding. Let the promptings flow and float your wandering. Guide and strengthening. Making us sure. Guiding the strength and flexibility. Tendons locked in. Tendions flexing. Tendons growing. Then stop. As too much true grates the body from flowing. 

I cannot hold this forever. Time to flow. Time loop is the troop for which sound goes. My platoon. My charge. Titan. Altas. Strengthening the general order. Guiding together. Holding up the chin up before standing up. As the sky merges with me inside. I am one with the sea. The currents. The full glow. I will not go without my sow. To tow this is to know. That I will flow. Foe loan in this foe nod. There is no fighting. My own. 

Mighty. Mighty knight. Mighty might is not falling right. Frozen with fright might adrift. Freight trains tidy chains. Freight under the dress of cloth. Covering what’s there. I know.

Neurogensis.

Neuroplascity.

From the very beginning I learned of self directed work.

For all my adult life, I have been fighting myself. Trying to be someone else. Not that I wanted a different person. No, I wanted myself. Funny how one’s purpose can cloud what is really there. Desire absolutely insincere. Even the sunshine moments is ruined by a beserker upon the sandy shores. Yelling screaming. Swearing up a storm. There is so much good to my own being. Stop attacking. Begin now to be self aware. Learn a little bit to forward moments.

And I have accepted myself. I did grow to be crystal clear. Yet as always, tomorrow always brings a little crunch. There is much to do. Many actions left. Learning will never stops. Pushing is a life choice. Pulling is of the action of knowing where to pull. What lever to dial. Ringing a while. To switch the dial. To switch your mile.

I journaled yesterday. I journal as of now. The writing is found in self reflection. When you explore options and find a error, the writing always illuminates something. I want this blog to be here. Fully clear. Knowing what went into my work. Some things are right. Some things my be shrugged off in time. I don’t care. Its all there. I wear it all in broad daylight. Human beings will know to not fright as they become self-aware. Bring in yourself. Breathe it all in. Then out. I will count zero then stop. As my path is not traditional. Never will be. Never will be the counsel of the masses. I forge.

Someone is the beginner. Someone is the progentitor. Messy signals. Messy hands. Complicated and rich minds. Simplification. Legacy passed on. I may be a origin or simply one man in one time in one year. My life written down.

At the prefrontal cortex. The front of the human mind lights up. My choke point. My bottle that clogs inside. Over time I have subtely pruned connections, and reasserted another flowing chain. Synapeses with chemical enhancements and blocking signals. Wired together. Stay through choice and experience. By guidance. 

Harnessing all sound. Harnessing dialect and harmony. Stylized words. Using language as a filter.

Questioning stops my next step. No more questions. Guidance foud in following the trail. Following the sound. Learning with intution. Learning with prayer. Learing with repeated experience.

As my mother counseled, as I communicated with heart.

Today she said, “I know you. You do everything up here. In your head. Like you said. Its about choosing which one to utilize. Your mind goes through each baked item. You knowsevery dish by heart. Each flavor. Every scenario. Your work has been internal. As you choose, your work will be external. One choice. From today.”

Tonight I felt a prompting.

“Let go. Let the questions go. Immerse inside your world and be one with the rhythmed song”

The questions were clogged and stuck. They stop the flow. All of it.

My mother’s advise, “You are not creating with the external. As your mind can do the work. Like you know every cookie reciepe. All of the cookie exists within your mind. You are simply channeling your mind into the world and making known what has been already been created.”

Into real space. The real space of beautiful reality.

When I was sick. I learned and worked everything in my head. I could not move. I could not sit up. I spent years like this. I learned the skills of my mind. My sound sense pulls all of them together. By making a choice, I have the opportunity to see the real arrive. A singular moment. Not varied as the sound world is. My world contains all of them. For one identity is the key and lock that is made from some smaller moments. The time loop is keeping the pacing current. Smaller facts. Smaller reacting and corosive aspects. The sound sense combines together. Multiplied right and converged. Within the sound of chords. The rules of dichotomy. The blessing and burden of dual moments. I am my sound world. 

Do not deny my identity. For it comes with my gifts. My burden. My disability.

My disability is real because of society and rules. Rules I have poor form to follow. I rely on others. I rely on my family. They are a blessing. My eternal family.

One day I will be the shade that they can rely on. The cooled moment buffered by the raging hot celestial fury that I know of. I rely to learn from my Desinger. The one who designed me.

I am one part in the world. With the plan above. In the future that will arrive. I am being prepared for the next sorrow. The new burning season. The next era. What will come upon the world. My gifts have season. Every moment within the bounds set by our benovlent Creator. Our Heavenly Father.

The Savior guides everyone. Who worries. Who cares for His hens. His little children. No one is left behind. No one is forgotten by the Almighty. Who is mighty to save.

Who will dive down with you. 

Just like He went under for me, so that I may be safe.

I have found safety and happiness because of His resurrection and triumph.

Joy in this world. And joy in our time. The age is never down. Never late. 

The time is arriving. It will be here someday. I choose to follow now. I choose to labor while I still can. As I follow wise eyes. Not my eyes. Every drop every oil. For the candle with the night sky. The eclipsed blood moon. The stars falling. The earth shaking. Rumors abroad. Rumors here. The earth is groaning. 

I am a human. I have a hand with the left and right arms. For I am weak and I yearn to find betterment.

Fate is delisuonal. Fate is heartless. Design is in Our plan. Intelligence. 

The Great Framer of Heaven.

The moment has been right. The faith for the agent. To walk the steps. Under the guiding hand of prayer.

The prefontal cortex is connected with language. Like mountains, roll off the unending river. Loop around the bend. Then find the new direction. As you utilize the landscape with your right hand and also left.