Dissonance

           There is a certain amount of dissonance in what is to be written tonight. A certain lack of clarity.
           Elder Andersen just delivered a fireside. Yesterday I went skiing with Elizabeth. This week I had lunch with a blonde ENFP, and I tasted fresh coconut for the first time. Facts. Objective.
            Looking in the mirror is like a reminder of what other people perceive. Grounding me away from what I see all the time. Of all the angles I look at myself, what I see in the mirror is never one of them. It is more chiseled. Less kind. It carries more sunshine and less moon. I am viewed brighter than perhaps I think I am. A lot less reflected from other sources. Opinions. Subjective.

            Combined

            Elder Andersen delivered a good fireside, but I was a poor audience. Yesterday I had fun skiing with Elizabeth, but felt so drained afterwords. All smiles with no limbs. This week I carried out a plan to buy lunch for the  stubborn blonde ENFP, and felt quite satisfied with my short-lived secret success. The coconut tasted bitter with a sweet aftertaste. In the mirror I see one fourth of me. Unquantifiable facts. Subjective facts. Subjective objects.

            "I'm waiting for the coin to land on its edge"

                                        Music emits feeling.

            One million things on my mind. Dissonance. The bitter sweet symphony of my skull, whose movements we learned about in Cranial Sacral this week. Our body ebbs and flows with a pulse, a breath, and then a rhythm that most never feel. All in your head; and so, all over your body. But not in the mirror. We can't see it in the mirror. In the mirror we see an object. A quantifiable object, and we remind ourselves how it looks to smile.