What does this animation have to do with what I’m about to say?
Nothing.
I’m in a really good space right now.
Why?
I was just in the best psychiatric care unit I’ve ever been in my life. It was Indiana University at Methodist Hospital. The place I was born ironically. I had to go because I was having heart palpitation and was not sleeping.
So there are many nightmarish posts in this blog because past experiences in psych wards and staff and psychiatrists and medicine were all scary haunted house experimental guinea pig in and paid for a ticket kind of experiences that let’s just not “keep telling out sad stories.”
The first thing that I noticed while waiting for a room upstairs was a lullaby over the loud speakers. I ask the ind nurse what that tune meant. She said it was a baby being born.
Was I being reborn. I had a feeling of death. Like your so tired you think you faint but you don’t but you can’t sleep. IT’s scary. They believed me when I said.
I hear things.
I feel more than I hear.
My right temporal lobe turns on sometimes & I feel you?
Beings touch me and heal me.
I have telepathy with some people.
I have a parallel universe relationship with a man I have never met.
I have prophetic dreams.
I feel people staring at me.
I can talk to dogs and cats.
I feel like I am in a movie but everyone knows it but me.
I think Jesus is here or I am Jesus but I don’t really want to be more like Jesus had kids related.
I have astral traveled. I was adjusted by aliens that looked like us.
Sometimes I have three heat beats. One is James, One is me and sometimes one is Eddie.
Or shall I say, Edward James Almost?
I’m not sure of these things at all because I can’t prove it quite 100% unless the others feel the same way. I am a scientist and that’s how i roll. I’m not crazy. Just open.
I got scared people didn’t lie me or my Quantum Entangled twin could be upset and the man next door is trying to torment is one reason why I was not sleeping, hospital. No police would help me. They are kicking me out and I am happy to go. I want only good things for m now
The hospital let me say these things without making me feel bad .No comments about giving me meds for my imagination. 🙂 hmmh?
They had art. The doctor listened to what meds did not work and what did, she gave them to me. There was a nurse outside my door at night. I felt loved. heard and healed. I can’t tell you how much I loved my psychiatrists. ME!? Really.
She was like a Mother figure. They even let me talk to a priest about the things i feel and how to understand God.
One night they let me look at this blog, my blog on a huge ass tv. I mean big. It blew my mind. Look at what I have done? I was so proud. A nurse came by and ask what I was doing and I showed her a video of you. Then I watched a few scenes from SC & RnR.
She loves that song. She wrote the site down and seemed interested. No psych nurse ever ask to see my art. I just sat there not wanting to write but to star at the colors the
décoration d'art
the way it looked, it looked like something that should be a film.
Then i said goodbye to friends and my family picked me up! My family!? We went to the head shop first thing. My 73 year old Mother looking at glass pipes and bongs. It was awesome. They told me to lunch and shopping for food which I didn’t have.
I’m on meds I can stand, I will just testify at how great
LITHIUM is….
At low does of course and a benzo. That’s all I ever really needed was those anti anxiety as needed when things spin faster in my head and heart I can stand. And if by any chance you are feeling the same thing darling…I”m happy to go for you too.
Thank you for everything IU Methodist C8 ward. God Bless you all.
And thank you for being there every night and when I would get scared you would go away.
And thank you Universe for being birthed there. and fro that star chaser and for being born again in the same place.
Well our “Govenor” Mike Pence passed a law that allows bigots to refuse service to people.
To People?
What if a UFO landed with Daleks from Dr. Who maybe? but seriously Mike Pence?
You really pissed me off today and I wrote this yesterday and after looking this film and the message of peace and violence I live in fraking state where A MAN would allow ignorance and prejudice to start sending people to the back of the bus again.
Why?
What is wrong?
Do you need a therapist?
Are you afraid of disagreeing with mean people?
Don’t you know one gay person?
Do you not believe some greater power is not watching the decisions you are making regarding how people are treated?
This is a joke right?
Seriously?
This is the Truman Show.
Please tell me I left Seattle to be with my family but I have to live among st this hatred old backward view of business.
What would John tell me to do? What would Yoko do.
Try to talk to you?
Would you listen?
WE NEED TO MAKE INDIANA’S GAY PRIDE PARADE BIGGER AND BIGGER.
INVADE INDIANAPOLIS WITH COLOR!
That will blow minds, uh should I take this money or should I not?
Don’t boycott Indiana. Help us. Invade us with love, famous people and support.
We’re not all bigots.
I live here. 😀
Do you even read your state residents opinions.
Do you know the term
BRAIN DRAIN?
that’s when anyone of great mind leaves a place to go to a more evolved place.
they give up on their home towns.
I moved to Seattle 13 years ago
to get away from this backwards place..
and i only came back for family,
but I don’t leave my house.
This town is spiritually suffering, empty of art and nature and progress.
it’s a dead zone and today you make me sad for the people who live here like me that are different but have much to offer.
What if I sold a book or made a film someday and I became famous but had gay friends and I had more than one husband lets say, would I not be able to throw a let’s say
media event for peace or would people turn down my money cause I was liberal?
B O R I N G
I don’t want my grandson to grow up in a box of people with no love in their hearts for all humanity.
Behind hatred, is just suffering.
Your people are suffering give them something full of love
not a law to increase their hate
when all they are is bored to death.
Do something different.
Do something fun.
Change or be a zombie, it’s your soul.
You have to sleep at night.
Good luck with that.
Do you have a wife?
Is she mad at you for some reason
Maybe you just need to make some good love.
Live a little.
😀
Do you want ever smart person take their lives and business elsewhere and leave this poor state in a state of living like it was 100 years ago.
YOU ARE GOING THE WRONG WAY!
and I’ll frakin get off as many will too.
there is consequences when you don’t listen to citizens and let ignorance make you look ignorant.
im sure you are nice guy.
but you need to apologize to the people that will be hurt
and believe me, people will be publicly ridiculed.
is that the kinda town you want.
i know where you live.
i can stand outside on the corner with my grandbaby and protest
I’m mad as hell and I won’t take this anymore
but would you care?
would I be allowed even.
I’m not getting arrested for your ignorance
and what do I tell my grandson
We can’t eat here honey because your Auntie loves a woman
and the little boy would go why Nana
I don’t know, I would sadly say,
“perhaps because you were born in Indiana.”
😦
and if you won’t stop the train two things will happen.
People are going to the streets cause they are going to be mad.
They may not know peaceful demonstration techniques nor would they be allowed to even protest without police blindly defending separation of humans living a city together.
You should seriously watch Dr. Who.
You’ll like anyone that is at least human.
or Battlestar Galactica, watch that?
See what happens when we fight among-st ourselves and then some cyclon smarter being comes to live here and whose house will you run to then. A Gay couple perhaps might shelter you from destruction.
the TANGENT SIGN IS UP.
onward…to the point of peace.
Dear Yoko,
Come be with us. We need walking art.
So here is the story of peace I wrote before I found out the Gov. is a hater….
In 1969, I was seven years old.
On of my first memories was watching an Apple record, play inside this huge stereo that opened on the top with a turntable inside and the TV was on the outside. I would watch the green apple go round and round unless I turned it over and the Apple was cut in half. Either way, it was hours of simple great fun watching music spin.
I could feel the flower children in the air even though I lived 2000 miles away from San Francisco. I knew it from music. My Mother’s “Woodstock” album was the catalyst for this new awareness at such a young age. I felt something in the air. It did come from the music. I knew little of Vietnam war and my two Uncles who were there being traumatized. I knew war from the news, but the overwhelming feeling that the flower children were alive overwhelmed me more.
I remember the photograph of the naked concert goers in the pond bathing.
I realized naked was natural. I must have stared at the album cover over the years, well, I don’t know how many times. I still have my 45 rpm records in their furry pink record carrier. I recall hours of playing my Mother’s 45’s in the basement on a kids turn table that had to have two pennies taped to the arm to keep it on the record. Those were the wonder years. I often wished I was one of those young teenagers with flowers in my hair in a place called California. I became a hippy before I knew what they were. My Mother was a music lover. She was not a hippy. She was hip, but she was also a very young single Mother struggling to survive with two young daughters on her own. Funny, my Mom said she was never a Beatles fan. I don’t know how that was possible since she loved so much music, but that was ok.
I was born on the same day as Julian Lennon, same year. I feel kinda unique thinking that my parents made me around the same time Julian was conceived. I wonder, people born on the same day in the same year, are we a tribe of our own, souls that incarnated at almost the same time. A generation of babies, the younger flower children. Maybe we called ourselves “flower toddlers.”
In my 30’s I thought, I was born ten years too late. I would have wanted to take that fantasy bus trip to California and smoke pot and put flowers in my hair and loved people. But now, I’m glad, I was born when I was as every child is a flower child, but my soul must have wanted to come in at this time. The Beatles played our little State Fair coliseum in Indiana when I was but a baby. I hear stories about locals who were moved by them and their kindness.
Now I’m 51, soon to be 52. I have an infant Grandson. My sister recently gave me the fuzzy record holder with more than 100 45’s in it. I took my two favorite records, and hung them on the wall. The one to the left was the Green Apple side of “Give Peace A Chance” by the Plastic Ono Band. (with my sister’s name, Kris, written in red marker. You had to do that back then, mark your records with your name on them so if loaned out, you would know whose it was. I suspected I choose the record but later my sister put her name on it instead. No matter. We played it over and over and over like kids do when they love something so much.) We were peace activists then and didn’t even know there was not peace.) The other record on my wall is John’s “Whatever Get’s You Through The Night.”
As I hold “Give Peace A Chance” now and as I just watched the film again and as I typed this I went to my wall to look at this record again, the record label reads. Never really took the time to read the label. How meaningful it is right now, there are no words for it.
Recorded in room 1742, Hotel La Reine Elizabeth, Montreal.
(funny for years, I thought they did the Bed In….in Amsterdam…don’t know why)
It’s almost like I’m traveling in time on more than one dimension as I write this, remembering those times so long ago and holding this precious record, I had no idea then how much more it means to me now and why it was recorded when I use to listen to it. I didn’t know about the Bed In at that age….and well Thank God, I still have the treasure…..
So now it’s 2015 and I’m about to tell you about another flower child who is moved by this record, which he has not even heard yet. When my Grandson was only about six months, (he’s 1 now) ….every time his parents would bring him to my house, the first thing his eyes would catch was those two records hanging on the wall. They hang outside a framed photo of another of my favorite musicians, Eddie Vedder.
I contributed his obsession with looking at them as, well, maybe they are two black circles with a square in the middle and he is noticing shapes, but as the months pasted and he started to point towards things he wanted to know about, he would swing his hand toward the record on the left. I would say, “That’s a record.” Pronounced the British way. reCORD. He would reach for it and I would take that one off the wall. He always looked at the second one, but needed to hold the first.
Do babies know things adults have forgotten. You bet your sweet ass they do! That baby’s soul memory must know from his Father’s soul memory that came from my soul memory that this round item was something special. We have a turn table, but are waiting just a bit to actually put the record on and play it. Delaying and savoring the time when we can talk to him and tell him, this is music. This is how music used to be played and this is how it should be preserved. Technology has killed the record album and 45’s with their amazing artwork. Some musicians, like the one I mentioned above, continue this vinyl legacy and I hope it continues forever. There is nothing more wonderous to a child to discover music that is palpable. Something you can hold, not an MP3 file inside a machine. I’m thankful for that machine because if it were not for you lap top I could not write about this. I wish you could have a pop out turn table, but at least I’m putting this into your memory. and I thank technology for the ability to view this film about Bed Peace by John Lennon and Yoko Ono.
It’s so strange how time flies and how the issues of peace are still if not more relevant today. I’m sad when all the flower children finally get old and pass on, yet, if we tell this story to all young children, heck this film should be shown high school as a requirement for social studies or whatever they call that now.
John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s love is palpable in this film. Love is such a driving force for change. It causes people to be creative in ways that make us stand up and pay attention to what’s important. I so wish another famous loving couple such as this would do this again. Maybe like John said, it would not solve everything, but what other place is more peaceful than one’s bed, especially with someone you love deeply. This time round, while watching it, I did not focus on what happened to John later and let that violence take away the peace of the film. Yes, the irony of his death, is almost too much to handle, yet I know God had a purpose for John on the other side and perhaps he is stronger there and bringing peace from that place to us still and when Yoko finally joins her love in that world, maybe that reuniting will explode into the cosmos and speed up what happened in 1969. With today’s media and social networking, can you imagine the peace rallies that could happen simultaneously if there were another bed in? It would be extraordinary. I don’t feel someone redoing their bed in breaks the purity of their idea, I think it would spark a movement to demonstrate all the ways we miss peace….
….there were tears for me at the end. Sweet tears. When they were hugging and laying together and being one in front of the camera, my heart hurt. I would so love to know that kind of love in real life. To love another so much, to become one for a cause of love and good, it does make me a bit sad to go to bed alone tonight, yet I’m not really alone am I?
none of us are because we are all connected. We always will be, Even after death. We never stop loving. It’s love that holds the Universe together and I think the human race is slowly getting it together because of events and people such as John and Yoko. I can’t believe how beautiful they both are. John, well he has that Jesus look going on and I will admit, I’m a sucker for a man who looks like Jesus. John with the old fashioned hair dryer on his head…well, his sense of the absurd and whimsical humor is why he was my favorite of the four. They all were wonderful, but John, well, if I had been a teenage girl back then, I would have fallen in love with that heart of his. What a lucky man he was to have Yoko and how lucky we all are she still speaks this same message at 82. I hope she lives a very long life, having her around is like having John still around.
It’s no coincidence the Double Fantasy album is on my nightstand near my bed. My life’s memories are becoming real life puzzle pieces from my own museum and make me feel like that flower child. All the wonderful people who appeared in the film, even the ones who wanted to oppose, they were still there, listening…wanting to know, asking questions and having dialog on how to become a peaceful world. That in itself is a blessing and perhaps we can see another huge peace even in this century that is as extraordinary as this event was.
I wish this for all children. For our own inner children who remember what it was like before we understood violence.
Yoko, I believe it was she who said in the film, something I thought of a long time ago when it came to the areas in strife. If both sides would come out with their children into a common neutral area with music and balloons and color and lights and food and water and happiness while speaking out against violence by holding our children in our arms, we would see there are no enemies, only the ones we have created in our minds, because maybe, if everyone held their children in their arms, we would all see ourselves as parents and grandparents and all guns would be laid down on the ground. It may seem crazy to take your children to a peace rally, but police would not fire upon children. It’s the children’s flowery fragrance that would put away the fears, it’s the children who will change the world. We were all born naked and pure. Even those we consider our enemies. We all came in the same. We need to remember this when we look upon “an enemy.” Often an enemy is just a wounded adult child. Everyone has potential for love and compassion. Everyone.
It’s a message we should never stop teaching, even when peace is close, even when it becomes the way of humans, we will never stop saying..
All We Are Saying Is, Give Peace a Chance….again and again.
and always remember love…..
don’t forget to turn the record over darling…..
I Love You.
Time travel with me now and re experience this one of kind film.
It’s been six months since I impulsively did not get back on the airplane to return me to my home in Seattle. I had lost my Grandmother in January and having no money to return for memorial I was homesick for Indiana. I lived here for forty years before I moved to Seattle in 2002. In Feb 2013 my friend bought me a ticket to come back home for a visit, but when I got back, I had a nervous breakdown and knew I could not go back to a town where I hardly knew anyone. Although I knew the seals and orcas and trees and the ferns.
Little did I know, this move might be regretted.
When I got back to Indiana, I got to visit with my twenty year old son. My friends came out of the woodwork. It felt good not being alone. I was so alone in Seattle after my domestic partner of 13 years and I broke up. I spent two years in a big city with one busy friend. I lived on disability and was being influenced to take anti psychotics for my depression. Terrible things happened in Seattle when it comes to my mental health. I saw trauma from trying to escape trauma. But nature didn’t do that to me. Somehow now I have been here six month, those old friends have gone back into the woodwork. It feels like the ugly part of being alone in Seattle and the general depressive atmosphere in the winter.
But that is not what this post is about. It’s about now I know my son is grown and has his own life. He can’t entertain me and he does not need me to take daily care of him and I left for ten years anyway, to this day I think has caused my bad karma for how my life is now. I feel like I’m being punished losing Seattle. I waited years to go there. It became my home and I had a partner. When he left, I fell out of a nest like a baby bird and lived on the ground for awhile, til my friend flew me back here to Indiana. It’s my hometown. but I dislike it very much. There is no nature here. None at all in the city. It’s strip mall after shopping mall. If someone from out of town came to visit, I would rather not take them around. It’s all materialism here.
I left all my possessions in Seattle. A friend sold furniture but some of my precious things are in storage at a church friends house. I don’t even have enough on disability to feed myself through the month let alone ship some of these photos and precious memories back. The Buddhist feel we should let go. I have let go because I feel I am falling down a well.
When I was without money or a friend to talk to in Seattle, I would walk to the beach. See orcas and seals and parents playing with children collecting rocks on the beach. I would walk through my familiar forests and imagine my imagined life. I was still terribly lonely and sometimes pondered suicide bit it was only from the anti psychotics. It seems from the time I was “diagnosed” with Bi Polar and put on pills my life went down hill. I slept in a zombie state for ten years. How will I get a job now with a ten year gap on my resume. I did volunteer at two children’s charities for 4 years but that makes no difference getting a real job. A writer is the only job that won’t judge me.
And my dream of being a writer, grows darker everyday. Who wants to read about a woman with a unique personality being diagnosed and her personality drown while she imagines imaginary men who watch over her in her dreams and in her life.
In Seattle, angels came out of hiding. There was art. Music. Open minds and trees taller than buildings. When I was crying from loneliness I would go walking.
Now in this terrible conservative and crime ridden town, I walk around a poor apartment complex because since I got sick they disabled me. I walk around a man made lake with garbage that the Mexican children throw at the geese because they know no better and the Burmese women I pass with children have nothing to say to me. As if she is a butterfly and I’m a screen door.
I wake up to nothing but the hope that each morning with a bit of cannabis I can find something interesting to say in this blog, but today I choose to write down my whining wishes anyway.
I don’t know how to get a job when the public transportation here is limited and dangerous. I know where I can go try to work again, but I have no car to get there. In Seattle you didn’t need a car. Here, your a poor person walking along a road with no side walks and people honk at you for making them move over.
Why did I come here? Was this my fate no matter what? Being alone. Seattle. Indianapolis. No matter. The only free person that I can call is my Mother and she is like calling the police to complain I can’t find weed. She hates my emotions. She is cruel to me when I need to talk about being lonely. My mother said when I was young and depressed, to get me to stop crying she would scream “I’ll give you something to cry about!” and scared the shit out of me to shut up instead of cuddling her daughter when she was afraid. Now my mom is my only transportation. I can’t get a car on social security. They won’t give you a loan and my credit is so bad from medical debt over years and years that I’m basically worth nothing to society. I’m a college educated out of date book.
The only other hope is that I will meet someone to take me away from this pain, but I can scarcely say the men in my neighborhood are drunks and uneducated. I’m not being a snob, but I don’t need someone to take care of me financially, I need someone to love my mind. One can’t do that if one is not of higher breeding in open mindedness and doesn’t call people “niggers.”
I feel like once I was middle class and now shrinks have turned me into a label that domino effects everything in my life. What do I tell a perspective date about what I have been doing for ten years? “Oh yea, I volunteered myself into mental institutions.” That will get me another date I’m sure.
God, I’m still waiting for you to show up. I keep working out at least my body. Please hear my prayer. Send me to the place I’m suppose to be. Where are my people or was I stupid and left my people out west. I should have moved to Portland.
Then there is the dream of this blog/book/film. There are two stories in this blog. One of my real life of depression and injustice in the psychiatric industry and inside that are my imaginary things and people that I love to keep me going. To help me remember being a child and of magic.
I try and wish to get producers and people with influence to notice me. Hoping someone beyond hope will say “she is really talented and has great ideas.”
I don’t know where the things I say come from. It’s almost as if they are given by a force that moves my hands on the keyboard. I would not say today is one of them.
Seattle held more inspiration for me. I may suck as a writer but I need it…. for the stories I need to tell are all I have left to save me from poverty and loneliness and a feeling that I was always a waste of time on this Earth. I made my son and I’m grateful, but he can’t take care of my need to be an influential writer..sometimes, for weeks and months I feel magic happening. A Telepathy if you will, then I get drugged and it goes away as if it was there in the first place.
Now I wake up in a dreary apartment complex in a town where cannabis is illegal, where the Colts football team is all the rage and no one calls and no once hardly comes over and there is no one to call to just talk…..
What does this animation have to do with what I’m about to say? 
Science Goes On - A Blind Date With God 
You must be logged in to post a comment.