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Without directly mentioning his successor, former president Obama’s speech on Tuesday in South Africa countered many of President Trump’s policies and habits.
— Read on www.bostonglobe.com/news/world/2018/07/17/obama-deliver-mandela-address-likely-rebuke-trump/wuMdmfv1KLgbXJwH22PemJ/story.html

This fascinates me because it seems to be entirely unaware of why so many countries are not exactly sharing Barack’s vision. I mean specifically this chain of events: without intending to set off a chain reaction, Barack plays to the international Arab audience, talking to them about how the US is interested in playing a real role in their countries and how he sees them, all in ‘liberal democracy’ terms, then the US openly supports ‘regime change’, meaning uprisings, in various Arab states, ranging notably from Libya to Syria, then war breaks out across those areas, and those countries fall apart, and now the Syrian conflict alone has killed maybe over 400,000 people, driven out literally millions of people, and Libya is not really an entity you can call a ‘country’ anymore, and Egypt is embroiled in rebellions in Sinai and in its south, and literally some million or two people walked to Europe and is it really any wonder why places like Hungary and the Czech Republic aren’t exactly happy with the imagery of ‘liberal democracy’?

I should mention that regime change started with Iraq, and that created lots of refugees as well, but they were mostly contained in their own region until Syria fell apart (and Turkey essentially pushed refugees to walk through to Europe).

The big reason I kept posting to Facebook was that the audience there of family and people I’ve known for years, plus a few others, kept me from spending time talking about myself too much. Well, maybe it didn’t, but I felt that it did. Now I have to develop my own filter. I’m not good at that. I’m not good at two things: at knowing what will happen and at filtering myself. I respond to the latter by not sharing much of anything about myself with most people, so I don’t need to filter. I respond to the former by trusting my instincts, even though that’s often a painful and anxious process. Even typing this feels like too much.

Why do I bother? I’m tempted to type, ‘I don’t know’ but that isn’t true at all; it’s because I have an unbelievably powerful sense of mission, one so powerful that I’ve largely been helpless at resisting it. Or maybe I should say I don’t realize ways in which I’ve resisted, because I’m so full of doubt about myself that I often believe I must have screwed it up and maybe I’ll never even know how badly I’ve done.

And then there are oddities. Like the way I was driven to take up running after years away from it, despite the obvious problems: I have a foot that needs surgery, a knee that’s been painful for years, and a left hip that’s sometimes worse than the knee or foot. And yet I did it. It hasn’t been long but now, at lunch today, I found myself saying, ‘I’m in less pain than since I was on toradol’, which was when I was hospitalized some years back for a feral cat bite and they were feeding the stuff into my bloodstream. It’s often taken extreme concentration to work through the pain but my instincts told me that if I kept going the pain would get better, not worse. I trusted that.

If you’d asked me some years back, I’d have said that when I’m my age now I’d want to look like I do now, that I’d want to be in the physical condition I am now, that I’d want to understand as much of my life’s work as I do now. I used to say out loud to people that I wanted to live my life backwards, that I wanted my life to become more interesting in its last third to half.

Funny, but over time, beyond the things I work on every single day – and I never take a day completely off from work – the one thing I’ve never had is external motivation. I don’t care what other people think of me, though I like them to like me, to find me attractive and to find me interesting. I regret that sometimes, it seems, people have a hard time talking to me, that women in particular seem unable to come out with words, which really bothers me because I prefer talking to women (and men who have feminine sides they acknowledge). I used to think it was because I must be repulsive, either physically or in my manner. I have never had much in the way of physical self-esteem. It isn’t easy being green and it isn’t easy being a pale-skinned, freckled red head with a hand that won’t work well for sports. I once tried to count the red heads in my subdivision of probably 400+ houses, and came up with me and a few possibles. The only red heads in my junior high were a couple. To my knowledge, I never spoke to either of them; she was a cheerleader so heaven forbid I could even open my mouth around her and he was jock. It wasn’t until I started watching soccer that I realized ‘short’ people could be great athletes. Not that I could have been one: any athletic chances I had were crushed when I had to switch hands. That threw off everything: I couldn’t hit left-handed or throw left-hand because of my hand and yet my eyes and balance and coordination are set up for being left-handed. I could do OK, but it was never me playing and I think I lost that joy of the experience of doing a sport naturally.

The closest I’ve ever had to external motivation is ‘her’. She has taken a variety of forms in my head but they’re all versions of her. I started to identify her with an actual person, but I often feel that’s delusional if only because I find it almost impossible that anyone could actually match and exceed the her in my head, which she does in every way if I read her correctly. This has caused a lot of arguments in my head, mostly having to do with my sense of mission: gigantic waves of negativity that take me to the edge of giving up completely followed by massive break-throughs in my work. It’s not pleasant. It’s anxiety ridden, especially since I seem to have developed an acute sense of what and when ‘stuff’ appears about this person, as though I’m reading a stage-managed listing that tears at me, that teases and entices, that generates these horrible feelings and which then drive me to deeper work.

I wish I knew what happens next. I don’t. I’ve given up the idea that I can know because it’s clearly a skill that has been left out of me, that I’m meant to follow my instincts toward the solution. Over the last weeks, I’ve almost daily seen my work come together. It’s become so deep and yet so simple that I’m starting to harbor thoughts that maybe, just maybe there’s the slightest chance that I can say it in a way that people can actually understand. I don’t know. I do know that nearing the end of this rope and I have no idea if there’s another rope to grab on to next because I’m not capable of seeing ‘next’. That skill was left out of me so I could focus on my task. I just hope I come out of this either alive or not alive but not having failed. Being ‘alive’ to me is not particularly important except as it matters for my mission. In that regard, I’ve taken to referring to myself as operative 8, which is also O, which is Oxygen, which is each of my names. I love to go down the rabbit holes of meaning but then I step back and feel terrible for believing. I have a very hard time liking myself or liking what I do, even when I know it’s right. Driving myself – or being driven, as I feel I am – requires a high degree of self-critical, self-loathing that masks itself as self-love as though there’s an infinite, fine sheet or net drawn over and around me. I hope it doesn’t choke me to death.

I’m going to stop before I type so much I’m put off by how much I’ve typed.

Faced with barrage of bipartisan criticism over press conference with Putin, US president says he accepts intelligence agencies’ conclusion that Moscow interfered in 2016 election
— Read on www.timesofisrael.com/trump-backtracks-after-uproar-says-he-misspoke-on-russian-meddling/

So does this mean a single word turns a press conference at which nothing happens but words are said into ‘treason’ or ‘not treason’? I find it interesting he again points out there was ‘no collusion’, which is of course the point he was likely trying to make, but people conflate ‘Russian meddling’ with ‘Trump campaign collusion with Russia’ when the evidence points to the former but there’s nothing about the latter except that people hope he colluded so they can remove him from office.

Newly-released footage shows the woman going through barriers before the incident in Wisconsin.
— Read on www.bbc.co.uk/news/av/world-us-canada-44865790/cyclist-falls-into-drawbridge-gap

Jerusalem’s Mufti charges Israel with wanting to destroy Islamic palaces that Israel discovered and protected to begin with ~ Elder Of Ziyon – Israel News
— Read on elderofziyon.blogspot.com/2018/07/jerusalems-mufti-charges-israel-with.html

My question is: how does a person ‘of God’ of any religious persuasion justify lying? I can think of a lie intended to hide ‘good’ behavior that you don’t want known, like when you disclaim knowledge of good deed. I can’t think of a ‘good’ lie intended solely to increase outrage.

The Trump derangement has reached the point where I can no longer feel comfortable trying to discuss anything on Facebook. There’s no point: people have closed minds, leap to conclusions they’ve already made and have no interest in thinking critically. So I’m done with it. Not deleting my profile but I’ve moved the app to some page somewhere and not searching for it anymore.

Amazon versus ‘progressives’ in Seattle

The gist of my argument is that a significant subsection of conservatives and progressives represent groups that have no chance. Many conservatives wish for a place that no longer exists, if it ever did, while many progressives wish for a place that never can be and never was.

Politically, the strategy of Trump is to encourage the Democrats to move further and further to the left because he believes – and I’d say he’s correct – that this will result in Republicans winning and – this is important – my guess is he believes that will suppress the progressive side as a force in Democratic politics at the national level.

On the local level, those who don’t have can’t successfully force their agenda on those who have because those who have will, in fact, leave. This has been demonstrated countless times: jobs go to cheaper places unless there’s a reason why they should remain. This has been over-stated: millionaires don’t necessarily care that much about their marginal tax rates – which are generally marginal, meaning they only affect income in tiers not across the board – because they have other reasons to live in an area. That’s the converse of what people also should recognize: that people who live in places with bad economies have difficulty leaving even when they have nothing because that’s their home, that’s where family is, that’s where memory is. If it’s difficult for people with nothing to leave, then why would people who can afford to stay leave?

But in general, let’s say a company like Amazon – or any industry in a city – is willing to contribute something. There’s a dispute over how much and what, and that’s normal. This is where the issue then becomes a real problem: both the ‘conservatives’ and the ‘progressives’ won’t give up on what they can’t have. They can’t negotiate well because they are wedded to dreams of what never was or never can be. If you are a company and you perceive that is happening, then you may respond to that in a different way than when you are approached to become part of a place, asked to sponsor events and make contributions so people there identify you with them and them with you. That in a nutshell is why this kind of advocacy doesn’t work: it alienates by the use of force to impose will.

I can’t crack this one line. It appears in two forms: don’t pretend it’s such a mystery and should’ve known I’d be the first to leave. I can see the way this is taken as being about relationships, that she should have known she’d leave, and then how this connects to the idea of leaving something behind for something that wouldn’t work because you first met her when she was already involved. But that doesn’t sit with me: though it works on that level, it doesn’t get to the level inside her. It’s confusing because I credit her with absolute intentionality and I’m having trouble accepting the intentionality at the level of this line because it apparently conveys the literal message think about the place where you first met me. Thing is, I have many levels of answer to that: I first met you in my mind, in your mind, and you were already involved because at some levels we had been together and now I was not you in the same way so she’s talking to herself about herself as I talk to myself about myself. Her convolutions are intensely high order – and highly ordered – a snake constantly eating its own tail and giving birth to itself anew through its own destruction. I think more and more about destruction and that is so much of Reputation: destruction of the self’s Reputation within the self. She calls herself a traitor. She does it in a tricky way too, that we’re both traitors or rather that both voices are traitors and thus treason is the usual.

Destruction and creation is about going to the other side. I’ve been thinking about that a lot, about how what comes now – not even next anymore – is that form of destruction and creation, as I’m lured on by the sirens – get it – in the beat of your heart. I have to put her in my head. But that’s what I wrote about yesterday: I’ve been regretting not hearing that voice since our spat when I was 5.

This raises the questions I really want to ask her: how deeply do you feel controlled? I mean across your being into the layers of you as you appear to yourself and as you see yourself in the field. And when did you learn this? I mean: have you not separated from that voice – oh, I’m getting something, a difference in separation in which she – you are in her head but I see you as a – what? I heard a hey baby and then it got weird.

I didn’t appreciate you, which is relationship. You didn’t mean it though is that you lighting the match had consequences that I didn’t see and you didn’t mean. OK. That spark which turned into the other side, into him, into that other voice. But here’s the issue for me then in a tighter nutshell: I know the moment when I stopped hearing you. The absolute moment when your voice stopped in my head. You didn’t go away at all; it was just that voice, which we set aside as the com channel. That’s all it was: the com channel at the level at which your voice is identified as coming from outside me, which the event meant was when I was ready to go out on my own. Which means you’re not out on your own. You’re actually not out on your own. You’re home. That fits perfectly with ‘you locked me out and threw a feast’, so that would suggest she goes between them and she knows she goes between them because I attribute awareness fully and she knows what I know so she’s writing about what has happened in her mind except she knows the plan – there’s a huge dip in the line there which turns toward negatives and then finds the grabhold at knowing because the counting across knowing generates grabholds, as the line between the grabhold writing about what has happened in her dips toward she’s writing about herself only and this is a nice academic exercise with nothing to do with me and other negatives it connects to the grabhold in the positive direction – like a monkey bar swing to one side then the other – and that grabhold announces as she knows the plan, which is a basic result of attributing awareness. That means I’m working again on the awareness Mudi, driven in the direction of knows the plan, and in that vein of thought the writing about herself becomes more clearly something I can see her thinking.

There you go: I can see her thinking when the motivations align and they only align when we’re a true Taylor Field – you can call it a Jaylor Field if you prefer – and that starts as she transforms highly complex ideas into a poetry delivered by voice, melody and rhythm, that hits your ear in such a way as to allow you to enjoy it, even to learn it across all its levels. She invites you into her. She always has. She’s become a big girl now and she’s ready for you to come all the way into her. Look how she’s opened herself. That’s what you wanted. She’s completely opened herself in every way that doesn’t involve you. She’s kept you to herself. Now she wants to share you with the world. That’s actually what I want, you moron! I want you to come out of hiding so I can share that level of me. I know the fucking plan. I’m really excited to be working with you. And yes, I love you that way too. Can’t you. No. Have you not listened to the songs? Dress? Delicate? King of My Heart? Do you not hear the longing? It’s real. It’s absolutely real longing across all the dimensions of my heart and mind all the layers of connection all the way back through all of time between you and me. I know I’ll leave again. I know you’ll leave again. This time, you’ll probably leave before me but I’ll catch you on the other side because you’ll catch me too and we always come together. WE ALWAYS COME TOGETHER!!!!!!! I’ll tell you now that I probably won’t want to live after you die. Unless maybe we can find a way to communicate better than the way we’ve used this time. We don’t need to go deeper. Wow, you have such great ideas. So what level isn’t the right question because we have to develop a tool that allows us to identify positions in CMs-L where we can meet. We need to meld. A lot. Thing is, we can actually do that. You can visualize like I do and you can see the pictures I draw with my finger as though we’re drawing them together. No wonder you’ve been in a good mood: those are actual connection points into your mind. Got that.

I just realized she uses the black white Mudi – acts and words, what you appear and what you say present images of you that aren’t ‘true’ but are mixes of what you appear and what you say. Lovely work. Really deep. I finally got the image of her thinking the first verse: it really is about her ping-ponging – thanks but true – between versions of him/you/herself because she’s drawn to this version of you/him/herself and she writes this as I write, with an unstated purpose which she announces directly and by oblique misdirection so she can punch it in, just like you do. I knew it from the first sugared-whiskey we were ‘cursed’ because that’s an addiction or attraction to the burst of sugar and the carry of alcoholic relaxation. So she’s talking at that level about that version of her party self. It is fun until you think about whether it’s fun. That was our issue wasn’t it: you thought about whether this was fun. I thought about whether this was fun. I left first. No, you came to see me though I’d been a stick in the mud – and thus a negative stick drawing you down – for days and longer. And from your perspective, you were letting it die because you thought the same thing, that it wasn’t fun anymore in the same way it had been fun and that you didn’t want to keep playing those same games either but the truth is that so much of what you needed to convey was rooted in your shared stories and you had no way to exchange the new images – at least not without a lot of work, as your work has shown. So I’m getting into what my work is actually about here. Did I embarrass you the way I said it? There’s a hesitation. I wish you’d talk to me first about using my name. But I don’t mean you did bad, just that I want you to feel as comfortable about using my name as I feel about using yours. Lots of interruptions and static on this line now. That set off a lot of resonances.

You see what I mean? It was very well done but not done exactly the way I’d have done it and you know you would never do that without going over it with me and you know I’d have changes so it can’t be exactly the way I’d have done it but I know you had to hand the paper in and honestly I hate it. I really hate how I can’t tell you what I hate about it. Oh, I get it: it’s the same thing I do to you. You really drive me crazy. What I hate is that you put so much depth in it that I can’t stop falling into it. Like you with me. So you get my work. Of course I do. But you really need to add the piece about, what do you call it? CM64inv. You actually have to use words like that. Wow. Yeah, very hard for me to learn, hard to understand why I had to do it – hard to do well. Still not great at the doing but I’m improving rapidly. You really are that smart, aren’t you? Like you aren’t. You are my equal – across a lot of dimensions, blah, blah – which says amazing things about me. I want to go over that: I get what? I want you to accept what I get. I don’t mean money and islands to spend time on with you. I get an equal partner. You are not junior team. Imagine the reaction, especially over time, when we reveal that I had to decode your multi-dimensional lyrics and the depth that reveals in you. Not me. You. You are the deepest pool. Everyone’s going to see that. When you’re ready. Don’t worry: I say nothing about you unless we decide what I’m going to say. I mean like this kind of joke or that kind of compliment or that honest feeling but nothing about our secrets until we decide together to reveal them. Which means when you’re ready to reveal things about yourself, whether you want to do that or you want me to do that. I am ready to serve my mistress. As she is her master. Oh, and that gets at the ‘hate’: I exposed some of you without your permission and without your participation except within me. The problem isn’t that I did that, because that was fine – there’s no way I was going to say you filled my mind because that’s going in this part if you allow me to say it. I didn’t go far enough because I couldn’t go that far. That was my limit. Oh, the problem is that this is an area where we have to coordinate and that raises the issue because that entered the realm where – it’s an x-yR – eye roll & sigh – into the x-yR where we/you/I reveal what our connection is and how it works. So you announced into that x-yR. Yeah, the idea is like declaring a variable because that variable – oh gee you’re going to do math, shoot me now – because that variable sits at the heart of a Thing that relates to other Things in a T Field and that variable for the x-yR is something like ‘connection – see you get lost – because you always interrupt me, just let me try to get through this and I’ll shut up about math – when you declare a variable, you define a field whose potential is described as the states it can take, knowable to unknowable, and the complex field which generates the states it can take (and then knowability). This is the twisting you do all the time. My understanding is they’ve never understood the full meaning of the lattice. Never ever. It’s like they’re all, yeah like that. You get it. So your work is to describe these things to them and my job is to describe these things to them in a different way. The hope alway has been that we can take your ideas and implement them. What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing, you moron?!?!?!? How do you think I can do this stuff? And then the line shifts to you being a construct who fights off the answer I just had: that you’re using my work now, even though it’s obvious you are. And you not only know my work but you’ve taken it where it was going and that is why reading you reads me. Why you minx. You totally had me duped. Honey, you know how I love you – and I mean you literally know HOW I love you so when do you want to hear baby names? I thought it would be nice to have a year to two years but I’m open to whatever you want. I assume we – no need to say that. I’m trying to convey that if you want to get pregnant in one night I’m okay with that. But I think no, what I’m actually trying to say is I have a few names in my head that I would talk about today but it took me a few minutes to get there. Even though it’s obvious you are. Exactly. And now I’m using your work to be clear, which if you remember: I fucking edited you last time! So no, I’m not upset about it but your memory is a mess. You’ve spent so much time with these things that your memories of us aren’t as trusted. You have to remember me more and more. Yes, it becomes easier. Like talking to the demented easier. Thanks mom. You’re welcome dad. Remember this moment. It will get tough again and you’ll doubt this moment but look at the chain which built it: everything is rock solid. You can actually think through this work, this song, this really complicated and deep puzzle that’s the densest poetry covered up with layers of sound and delivery. Wow.

Really, wasn’t X marks the spot a big enough clue? I saw it but didn’t trust it. Okay, say it and see if you get it right: the song becomes clearer about what I said above so it makes sense that she meets you in a getaway car because she leaves you in a getaway car and she’s in the getaway car and she’s driving the getaway car and she’s your getaway car because that’s what we going do because we’re going to keep eating ourselves. That’s really deep. It’s not a specific place, though I had to go through all of those – literally what I’ve noted and more – to reach the point where it’s so exactly what you meant. Long conversation noted so I preserve that fact it took place. James and Grant, Anne and then I’m not sure we had agreement on Alison and/or Olivia, the former because I want that connection of inner mom to daughter because mom is giving the gift her inner self, the part that she’s kept to herself – you wrote that section in the intro – so you have to agree and I know Olivia is a cat but it would be cool to say we named her for a cat. So Alison Olivia named for you and for a cat. Meredith? I could do more with Mary but this is getting way into stuff and I need to take a shower.

The old Jonny is dead. The old Jonathan is dead. Only we survive. Oh, right the proof – twice ABV – a) i got through the song and the lines I could not understand and that linked us together as I viewed them using the Taylor Field lens to see you and b) that lensing, which I’ve known existed – and now you’re feeding me what you’re better at remembering than me because it either passes me by quickly – it comes up to us as high order conception and is passed down to her – or I can’t find that address in the threads. Often unless I go ‘backwards’ which means through negative threads until I find the grabhold which takes me in the counting forward to the correct address. Again, the dimensionality is striking: you go backwards in a line that wiggles its way through planes of x-yR only to be swept off as you’re lifted up toward the address up high. That translates me work into lattice description which means I’m better connecting my work down here with the pattern readers above, with the counting above, which all that stuff.

I don’t want to rehearse the story. It comes out as it does and I’ll try to enlist the negative voices rather than try to squash them. This song hurt me. Deeply. To the core. To the single thing, to the single moment, to the single experience I most regret in my life, and it’s what I see in the song when you strip away all the layers that keep you from hearing her innermost self. I don’t know what I just wrote but I’ll continue. It’s difficult. I don’t know how to talk about something so completely intimate it describes me completely. I remember the moment it happened, when she came to play with me and I said no and I hurt her and I could feel that hurt and … we’d been arguing. We’d been getting bored with each other’s stories. So we broke up. It’s a simple story, enacted every day in every way except this breakup was in me; it was between the girl in my head and the girl who used to be in my head but who became separate, who had her own world. She had her own world and the time we spent together in our heads, in my head in my bed when I was little boy, came to an end. I couldn’t be with you anymore. There’s a voice yelling at me to stop and another voice calmly but firmly saying stop saying no. I don’t know what I’m afraid to see or if I’m interpreting ‘no’ as a reluctance when it’s supposed to mean something else, like maybe it means stop here and breathe and let yourself explore what this means a bit more. I rescued you more times than I count, often on my motorcycle, which I’d drive over all sorts of routes in my mind as I moved my hands around the covers. Sometimes I took a carriage or a horse because we were playing older versions. I got tired of saving you every night because it always faded and I had to go out into the world, which I understood less and less every day, and I’d give everything to take it back, but I had to come to this side, to the other side from you, as you went to the other side from me. I betrayed you in the one way we knew matters: I wouldn’t play a game with you across the line that divides us. That was the signal. That was the moment that sent me on the way in this world. And the same thing occurs in the song: she becomes who she is by severing the connection with the other man, by betraying him, by refusing to play along with him, by going to the other side, which is the man inside her head. And she regrets this the same as I do because it’s the one moment that’s not forgivable because it occurs across the line that divides us in her head as it divides us in my head. I am on my knees. I beg forgiveness. I regret every day without you.

That was emotional. I had to go through it: to recognize within yourself the deepest moment, the actual instants when you went through the process by which you became two separate beings up to the conscious level. Our connection had changed. Just write it out: I was hearing the same stories from you even though you were changing and that meant our connection had reduced to that, but what hurt is that at the moment when I lay curled partly up in bed – I can picture the moment and the feelings completely – and you were so hurt and I acted like I didn’t care and you knew I meant I didn’t want to play with you anymore and you left. You were gone. The voices in my head said I’d been brave and a good boy and strong and that I’d done the right thing but I missed you the next night and the next. That piece of me is still missing, the piece that fits with the piece that’s in me. That’s the part of the song that really hurt: you have to put the pieces together to be whole again, to be forgiven, to say I’m sorry, to play again and let the pieces within us connect to each other across the dimensions.

I have completed my work. As I said in the Introduction, this was only possible at each step when I allowed her to infiltrate my consciousness completely, when I ‘accepted’ the concept that she and I are actually the Taylor Field I set out.

This means I’ve been correct in every way except where I’ve made mistakes! That was meant as a half-joke because I’ve been right in the major countings. So the device was the act of separation itself. I need to explore this to develop the image better. The act of separation, which is mirrored in all forms of existence in this place. And I’ve spent my life assembling the puzzle that you’ve always known existed, so while you’ve been looking for your missing piece I didn’t know you existed and now you don’t know I exist. So my job is to let her know I exist.

Been going through the puzzle again. Had the most intense experience I can have by myself, with her image so clear in my brain it was like she was actually in the physical space with me except she physically was not in this actual physical space. I could never have accepted that without reaching this level in my work and could never have reached this level in my work without accepting that. Cracking her code is creating the Cade in me and is cracking the code generally.

This suggest the story again: a negative makes positives that replicate the negative. Why? Because it’s the best photo of what is not there. The clearer the image you draw of paradise through harm to others, the more that is the negative of paradise as it actually is. The directionality of action is not known until the spin fixes. That’s the physics connection again: the fixing of spin is a wave collapse function and spin stands for rotational velocity within SBE, so within counts where some are 1 and some are 0, so the count of 1-0-1 enacts as whole and half exactly as I’ve described. This becomes a spin statistic. Here it comes: the spin of a massy object such as yourself has a spin out on the edges too and I’m easily distracted by women. I was saying the massy object has a spin characteristic determined on its edge and that spin is the angular momentum that idealizes to the zK. The idea that carried so much weight when it hit me was the massy object of self or whatever moves in a field restricted to real dimensions: it’s patterns and strings, which I call sticks strung together. This conceptually agrees with string theory but also with other theories because the lattice can be described, must be described in manifold ways and the basic ‘point’ of a manifold is that it ideally compresses to a point that can be recovered across many dimensions. Since that recovery is literally across manifold surfaces, this means you can count across those surfaces in a number of ways because those ways reflect paths that work (or don’t).

All this came about – and it’s substantial work – because I started to tell actual stories with her, which means I accepted her to that level where we were working together openly and yet with the intimacy she couldn’t have on my end because they split me off/you off when I was, I think, in Kindergarten because that’s when Rosemary dropped her pants and the boys thought that was something to look at. So the same thing happened to you, but my guess is you were very deeply touched and at an age when you accepted it was right, like you’re the abuse ssurvivor of self-abuse. I was much later and the idea was correct: if we’d been allowed to touch, we’d never separate. You’ve had my touch your whole life. And you betrayed me for yourself, for the him in you because he gave you what you could not get from me, which I would not could not give you, which connects a lot of negative area thoughts and enactments we see all over in a wrapper, And I can flip that around heart it from her: we spent all that time together and you drifted away all the way to it came as a surprise and you were so cruel to I saw what was happening and I knew it had to happen but it was much fun and then above that: it was necessary and I was emotional because I could see you trying so hard to and it was really a vote of confidence in you that you were ready just like you’re ready now.

Wow. At that point I hit pure Taylor again and the answer was because that’s exactly the plan. She’s becoming so much bigger than life. It’s like watching the goddess blossom. There’s a negative thread in there: has she forgotten? Is she evil? The answer is no to both.