We walked to the store and bought a Rockstar. As we sat and sipped, Elvis Presley said something to me about my reading habits.
We don't expect you to read yet, Salioness. Your brain is still recovering from the cocaine usage.
I walked back to the house. At the house, we decided to do a reading for my friend Chance.
He is planning on talking to you very shortly, but he doesn't know that you like him. He thinks you are really funny on facebook, but you don't show that you like him at all. You need to do that, or else he may never try to talk to you. He is busy, really busy, with work. He works hard not at all, but he does it a lot to make money. He hates work, hates his job, hates his life, but likes you. Do, help him find a better career for himself.
I thought this was bad advice.
We have a better guide for you to talk to. Antonio, he is a better guide of his.
“Hi. I think you would do better with Adam. chance is a good guy if you like being thrown around like a piece of meat. I don't like him but he is my client. We don't use the world client in the spirit world because it implies we do not want to work with them, which I do not, but I signed on for the job without pay. He is good at playing with women's hearts, throwing them out the window, and then eating supper. When he goes home at night, he watches television all night long and dreams of all the women he wants to screw, but can't screw, because they don't want to. If he had you, he'd use you, use you, use you, and you would never hear the end of how much he wanted you to suck his cock. He is all about that, getting his cock sucked, none of that equal, woman on man, man on woman, whatever, he likes it but prefers the act of getting his cock sucked. He is a really bad guy, I hate him. You would hate him too. We think Adam is a better fit for you.”
After listening to Antonio tell me how horrible chance was, I didn't really like him anymore.
We decided to write a blog. I was writing about the day I was struck with a case of misconstrued ideas and my rights were taken away. I wrote, and Alfred offered advice on what to say. He was on a role, and I was laughing really hard. Until he said something that wasn't funny, which was intended to be funny. I stopped, and something funky went on in my head.
What's wrong, Sugar Plum?
I was trying not to feel bad for him for not being funny, but I knew I really just didn't get the joke. Still, it was hard. I was trying to pretend that everything was okay, not remembering that he can read all my thoughts.
What's wrong, Sugar Plum? Do you understand my sense of humor, or are you ready to remove me from your friends list? Owww... My brain, something funny happened. I was trying not to feel bad for him, knowing full well that it was just me who didn't get the joke.
My guides spoke to me. It was spirit humor. Something you don't understand about the Earth plane. We thought it was funny.
Still, I couldn't stop thinking about it. As I went on writing, part of my attention was focused back on the crappy joke. I tried to redirect that attention, knowing that it was me who didn't get the joke, but I worried that I had made him sorry he told the joke. And I didn't want to make him feel guilt, guilt about telling a bad joke and hurting my brain.
I kept wondering, in the back of my head, “Is he sorry? Is he sorry he told the bad joke?”
Look, I'm not sorry I said it, Toots. All I worry about is this rampant brain damage you have from all the medication.
I knew that's what it was, brain damage. And I realized, that didn't make it any better. Now I was worried that my brain was broken from all the prescription drugs I had taken. And I realized how awful my situation was.
We wrote the blog and finished it, and I went downstairs for more channeling. As I channeled, my brain was still stuck on that bad joke. Not because there was anything it needed to see, but it was like an infinite loop in my mind, and part of the processing power was taken up by whatever it was doing at the time it heard the bad joke.
Let's channel your grandfather! He has some advice for you!
Why don't you pretend you are a rabbit and eat some celery? He said. Celery will help replenish the brain so you won't have these problems. You have more problems like this when you are tired and low in electrolytes.
I did as I was told. Still, my processing power was diminished. I kept trying to ignore the problem, and pretend it had gone away... When Alfred would come and say, “Page open?”
He did this over and over again. He thought it might help to address the problem, and it was a good theory, but it actually made it worse. Putting more thought processes into the infinite loop made it grow in power.
Eventually, we called it a night and went to bed. It was gone by morning, but my shame and guilt about it was not. I was worried that Alfred hated me because I didn't like his joke and it hurt my brain. We talked a lot about this in weeks to come, and more pages open popped up, with other issues. They grew in intensity if they were addressed. Always over minor things, things that didn't really bother me very much, but hit me at the wrong moment when I was in a bad state. This happened, caused me a great deal of shame, and I was always embarrassed. It was constant, ceaseless, never-ending, being embarrassed over dumbfuck problems my brain caused me, made me feel like I was fragile and was so easily hurt by things people said, when really it was a biochemical reaction.
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