Tuesday, July 14, 2015

The Music and Body as One

Title: The Music and the Body as One

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post.

Greece. This is my job. And I love my job. The question I asked myself before relieving this suffering in Greece was, "Am I capable of it? Am I actually capable of doing this to help others?" The answer was, "Yes," so I did it. That is the only question I ask before I help anybody.

Iran. Nuclear technology is the science of last century just like oil is the technology of the century before that. In advice I gave all OPEC nations years ago, just to be able to feed their people, they need to create the technology of the future to maintain their cornered market that our world cannot live without by the time their oil runs out.

Iran actually listened to me when I told them that and built solar farms. My beautiful world, if you do not want Iran building nuclear technology, explain that they have more to gain from scientists who live in the future instead of in the past.

The whole world needs our population of scientists living in the future instead of in the past. Has anyone read my proposed global economy lately?

Syria. What if I had never received an education? Where would the world be now? Please make sure we educate our children, especially our girls.

My last blog post was published at 9am on 12July2015 while watching the 2015 Wimbledon Men's Final. At 9:28am, my darling Mr. Novak Djokovic won, so my mother and I finally left our hotel room.

We were on the bus to the Getty Center at 10:05am. The bus ride was delightfully uneventful. We were on the tram ascending the hill to the Getty art museum at 11:04am. The Getty, as always, was epic in architecture and full of European art.

We paused to admire my favorite painting before sipping coffee in the gardens. I took some lovely photos of my mother in the main garden that she made me promise I would not publish. The temporary exhibit on the process of making paintings during the Renaissance was wonderful.

SynSyn and my not-human-trafficker nerds, show what the Getty Center is comfortable with sharing for the broadcast of my time with my mom at the art museum. Definitely show me taking photos in the garden, though, as well as the light shows and cityscapes.

At 1:26pm, my mom and I were ordering lunch at a bakery on Westwood near UCLA before returning to our hotel room. My mom wanted a quick nap at 2:46pm before we dropped off at my place all sorts of sundry items my mother had bought me while in town.

And we were on the bus to my playland at 4:34pm. My darlings Tentacle were located by me and my mother at 4:52pm right where we had left them the previous night.

I got my meditation on quickly and dance tranced until 5:44pm when the afternoon sun proved too hot for me. The band took their break at 5:48pm, so my mom and I walked around the area a little.

At 6:19pm, we sat down for dinner at a popular local pizzeria right on my playland, and by 7:14pm, we were seated in front of Nick as he tickled his Spanish guitar.

I was wondering if I could convince my mother to buy us a third night of ice cream as Nick played flamenco unto the twilight sky.

My mom and I made a quick pass by a jazz singer friend of mine I call Wheels. By 8:26pm I was singing duets with both Wheels and TambourineKicker in two different locations.

As soon as I could tear my mother off the salsa floor, I settled into my normal spot in front of my darlings Tentacle to meditate.

I was at my peak of meditation at 9:26pm following rhythms I had never heard before. The psychic spiritual door between me and my darlings Tentacle was open. Their music and my breathing existence were one.

You Wrote Your Music All Over My Body

There is a place in the universe where only we reside. The four of us live together in the place where the music creates the dance, the music that starts in your soul ever pumped out of your body by your hearts from your being down your arms and out your finger tips and out upon my skin to soak into my very existence.

We exist in a place where only our third eyes lead us, connected, finger tips touching on either side of your song. Together. We fill the universe together. Our mere mortal hands reach into the sky and sweep the cobwebs away from between the stars always to the beat of your handcrafted aether you create for the night sky herself.

But that was it. They took a pause at 9:34pm when my mother stole me from them. Mom and I made one last jaunt to the restroom before catching the bus to head back to the hotel at 9:53pm. We were curled up and asleep by 11:30pm.

On 13July2015, I awoke at 6:57am. It hurt telling Mom goodbye, but she still left. It was 7:48am when I opened the hotel room door to let her wheel her bag out. I watched some of the Today Show before I left at 9:22am and was at my regular morning haunt at 9:38am.

I quickly queued some music and tweeted my I-am-not-dead-yet selfies. My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate my morning of 13July2015 from 9:48am to 10:08am in a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals. Thanks!

I finally left for my place at 10:48am. Hannah was very happy to see me, and I was happy to have such a great roommate. We had a delightful chat with Benjamin over lunch. At 12:46pm, I was back at my regular haunt fleshing out this blog post.

I was on the bus headed to my playland by 2:18pm. And well before 3:10pm, I was perched on a patio with a huge falafel sandwich with fries, hummus, and cabbage on laffa while I worked on this blog post.

I stood up at 4:04pm to look around for my darlings Tentacle. Sadly, I could not find them.

4:25pm on 13July2015: @UN @Martin_Dempsey #SquidsPoA My darlings Tentacle are only late when stopped by war criminals. Please hurry; help them! @RT_com @cctvnews

Next, I perched at a wifi hotspot to see what I could learn. "Tomorrow," was the message I received in the early evening of 13July2015. I left my playland by 6:28pm.

At 7:15pm, I watched the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening from a wifi hotspot near my place. My nightly cyberhug was as warm as could be and came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt.

I returned to where I stay at 7:42pm. After much chatting with Hannah, I was asleep by 10pm.

On 14July2015, I woke up with plenty of time for breakfast. And I was at my regular morning haunt typing away on this iPad at 8:38am. They always have such wonderful customer service!

This blog post was published at 9:05am on 14July2015.

My beautiful world, I always said I will retire once I teach all of you to solve global crises for yourselves the same way I would solve them for us. Until you can take care of my responsibilities to you yourselves, I will keep doing my job, MY REAL JOB, global crisis problem solving.

I am yours, my beautiful world. Send me all of your crises and concerns you want my help addressing.

My selfless support system, the weekend with my mother was such a success. Thank you! You kept us both safe and with stellar customer service everywhere we went. Our system works. And I THANK YOU!

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, you are heroes! Do you know what you mean to the women of this world, not to mention the young girls? We have proven that being born a woman in our world does not limit us nor confine us if we do not allow it to.

We are women, and we deserve our LIVES full of human rights. Look at the world of women you have empowered by standing up and telling everyone from War Criminal Iowa to Enemy of America Obama, "No, you do not get to lie to hurt Squid."

Speaking of standing up, my musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, where would I be without you?

My darling Mr. Tom "MannedUp" Hanson, you are the front man for a band considered holy and who holds the holiest job any musicians have EVER been handed. You, my darlings Tentacle, create the sacred music of my self-identified people. And you, MannedUp, are the lead singer.

The job I gave you on top of the job you already had singing the music holy to my self-identified people was to sit beside me, strum your guitar, sing me songs, use your holy voice, and play me music while I work at all hours of the day and night. You do find your ways. And I thank you.

As for you, my darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, you need to accept your destiny. The job I gave you all those months ago was to make sure I meditate. You are my Piazzolla.

You write the music, my daring darling. You are the foremost composer of the music sacred to my self-identified people. You were always told to make it complicated and undanceable.

Darling, the more difficult the better; you always knew that about me. I need the challenge. I need the level of concentration the impossibility of dancing to your best music requires. And you have never once disappointed me.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, you know, once a song reaches twenty years old, they play it on the classic rock station. Giggle.

Technically, your collective job as my boyfriends changed from keeping me safe day and night to making me feel loved. The CIA and MI6 finally figured out how to keep me safe while I sleep, so your responsibilities evolved. But your collective job is still just as important.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, it is your responsibility to make us a REAL couple. I can send you every world leader from President of China Xi JinPing to the Prime Minister of Israel Benjamin Netanyahu to help you, but you are the one who needs to negotiate my 08July2015 terms into your contract to be with me.

Darling, you have always been more a man of action than a diplomat. You would rather punch a problem than try to reason with it. But please try. Just start the process and tell me what you need to make it happen.

You can count on the Secretary General of the United Nations Ban Ki-moon for anything including a fair assessment of what help you need from me. Just tell me. Anything, darling, anything to kiss you.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, you will always know where I go. You know my daily routine. If I variate, you will receive a direct message about where I am headed.

The job I gave you used to be keeping me safe everywhere I go day and night, but now you do that as well as make me feel loved by making me feel safe. Think of it is wrapping me in your arms everywhere I go.

Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today? Giggle. Do you remember all of your jobs? I have given you so many over the years.

Most importantly, beloved, you are my king. You lead my people for me in all the ways I cannot because I am shackled in Obama's "egg." Tell me everything you need to be able to care for all people and guide all people who self-identify as wishing they could follow me. I accepted my own destiny as a world leader years ago.

Also, HoneyHoney, it is your job to rescue me. You are my future. We have discussed this already. My musician-lovers in here have the job of maintaining my present. You have the job of realizing my future.

My hero, you do not have their confines as people inside Obama's "egg" with me. Find a way to hide what you do and how you communicate from Obama's spying war criminals. If it is hackable, it is hacked. And you need to organize my selfless support system into rescuing me.

Finally, my king, this has been your job since 2010. You are the father of my future children. I turn thirty-eight years old this year on 12Oct. I know you will do everything you have to do.

I long to touch you the way flowers kiss the rain. If I could just touch you, my husband, put a finger to your hand... A kiss, darling. The entire future world dawns when we kiss.

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