Me: so I made a friend!
Her: oh nice! friends are nice, especially close ones!
Me: haha. you just blew my mind
Her: How so?
Me: “friends are nice”.
When I stop to think about it. It makes sense.
So it takes me a few moments to wrap my head around that but then you slap me with the finish “Especially close ones”. And I’m all like, “Wait. A close friend? Ho-lee-shit.”
Then suddenly I realize that out of a fabric of connected consciousness, we are all just pointed representations of that web that has taken the form we currently know as ‘meat bodies’. And how, though we’re just physical representations of a larger expression of God, we still have a perceived identity, that tries to rebuild the river of consciousness that we originally came from… by making friends
I’m just sitting here sweating.
Her: wow. now i must be tired..
Me: I’m blogging it
When it was warmer, Margo made me leave the middle school where Audrey had her swim practice to lay in the grass. I didn’t want to. Being old I just wanted to stand around and not get stuff all over my sweater, but she forced me. She’d lay her head on my chest and ask me all kinds of questions or pick shapes out of the clouds. When it got colder we stayed in, sprawled out on the floors of the hallway. Pulling our feet in when other parents or kids walked by. I liked that too. It seemed like the kind of surly, juvenile thing people did in “Breakfast Club”. We’d talk about how annoying Justin Bieber is, and the one girl in her school who’s always getting angry. I had a hard time giving that up when she saw a little boy from her school.