November 1 in Scott

  • Nov. 1, 2024, 9:01 p.m.
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  • Public

I was looking through some old photos yesterday. Tossing some out. Too many of 1 subject here and there. I was amused to see how I have changed. Shedding a mind skin so many times. The body would slowly change but the mind would have movement as-if shedding a skin and changing so much. I saw photos of me with my formerly nice wavy brown hair and slender muscular body. Drinking shots and beers. Now I am so different. White haired and bald on top. Fighting the battle of the belly bulge. No alcohol or drugs. Muscles slowly fading. Now saner than I have ever been. I think we all change with movement of consciousness. Ah this is a different me now! Look back and go oh how could I have been like THAT. How many mental skins have I shed in my lifetime? So many I feel but a part of that skin, the best of it has fortunately clung to me with the new.

Today I shredded all the old pay stubs from my former factory worker life. I looked at some books from my childhood and teens (over 50 years ago). The bindings on so many of them cracking and the pages yellowed. I wrote my name in many of them. Not like anyone would want to steal them. I have vague memories of ordering paperbacks directly from publishers. Carefully filling out an address from a paperback back or an order page. Feeling so adult getting a money order for it. Then waiting WEEKS for the parcel to arrive. It was such a big thing to me. To get a bag or box of books. My parents would have gone nuts taking me to bookstores so often. When I did go to a bookstore I would be in wonderland looking for books from a list. Or daring myself to try a new author. Now these last books of mine have a sentimental attachment but they are also books I will never read again. They are old brown and yellow paged stacks of paper. I once had many books then gave them away to charities. I will probably trash these someday. Just as someone would going through my effects after my death.

Sidewalk repair work in my neighborhood. I saw a machine parked on my lawn and went out and complained to a worker that he needed to move it because it was crushing the dead leaves on my lawn. He thought I was serious at first then laughed with me when he saw me laughing. Nice conversation afterward. As I had exited my house to go talk to him, he asked, “You come to work with us?” As soon as he said that, I bent my back, shuffled my feet and limped over to him and said no no I cannot work. He laughed. I told him about my many years in a factory. I felt he respected that.

I am not a superstitious person but old habit of a former lifetime make me feel a sense of dread when I read predictions of a Harris victory. Shhhhh! Do not jinx it! Y’all just shut-up and see what happens! LOGICALLY I believe Harris should because of what a monster trump is. Logically. Yet there are an amazing amount of stupid muthafuckas in the USA. It’s like religion: No matter how fucked-up it is, can’t change their cult minds about the idiot trump.

I dread November 5. I plan to keep myself from looking at the news sites for a day. Wait until I feel there is a clear winner after vote counts. If trump loses, all hell will break loose. If not, all hell will break loose with the demise of democracy in the USA. I feel I and millions of others are holding our collective breaths. Waiting and hoping for a miracle. IF Harris wins, there will be a mass exhalation of breath of relief. I cannot party but I will feel joy. If the idiot wins, I will have to change my life dramatically.


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