You just want me because i’m there.  “I want you all the time.”  Anyhow, I must’ve been talking to Ursula at some other point in time, because she certainly wasn’t here, at least not in the way I imagined she was describing.  But maybe she meant something else.  That I only wanted her because she communicated with me telepathically, and, once she was in my presence, and I didn’t have to rely on telepathic communication for interpersonal contact, I might lose interest.  Was i more in love with the idea of telepathic connection than I was with Ursula?  Nonsense.  I never had to lose a telepathic connection, and, even if i could interact on a physical level, i wasn’t going to wind up looking back in preference of a time in my life when telepathic communications might have been seen as somehow more pure—in that I had to rely on it and it alone.  I could always rely on it even if I was in a relationship, and if I didn’t use it as much, well, then, that was because I didn’t need it as much, at least not in the same way, which would have been perfectly fine.  There’s no sense in being telepathic just to be telepathic—just to say you’re telepathic, which is what that would boil down to.  You have to need it for something.

     I was in the bath—having awakened a little early, albeit on accident, leaving time for a bath on a day that I wouldn’t have otherwise taken a bath if i had woken up at my prescribed time, and I projected Ursula’s voice and I heard this: I have a home.  My home is not with you.  My first reaction left me a little miffed—why would she say such a thing?  Who was I talking to?  Surely the real Ursula wouldn’t say such a thing, and, I, too, wouldn’t put her on the spot—at least in the ideal realm that I thought belonged to telepathic, and 5D, communications.  My initial conclusion, then, was that i’d got my wires a little crossed, and I was hearing from Anna, instead of my Ursula—but it was already understood that Anna most likely wasn’t my Ursula, so I don’t see why I she would have said such a thing—or why I would have posed a question that would have led to such a statement.  So I ruled that out. 

     I want to talk, now, about why i chant, or count, in other people’s voices.  The logic is as follows: we project onto others integral parts of ourselves that we veto or reject because we are afraid that we, in our pure state, would not be loved, and that, therefore, our society would reject us, and we would lose the ability to function.  Now, sometimes things are suppressed, because of this, with good reason—but it is uncomfortable to be something other than your pure self, and, therefore, we should constantly seek to inform both ourselves and the world around us that we have nothing to fear.  Furthermore, when we are good, and we don’t know how good we are, perhaps because others do not see it or accept it, we project the good in us onto others, and we can wind up overestimating what someone really means to us—we can become obsessed with them, and need them, beyond what is reasonable, because, deep down, we are trying to reclaim what belongs to us—to integrate what they have, when, often enough, they don’t have what we want: we only think that they do.

     I’d bitten the bullet and recorded my last song—a lot like a ballad, so I was pleased about that.  But forget all that—how was I doing?  Right here and right now?  Not bad, actually—although sleep could be a little better, and I might feel good enough, stimulated enough, and relaxed enough to do the things I do without relying so much on cans of diet Dr. Pepper, seltzer water, and cups of tea.  But nothing was perfect, and I was still adjusting to the medication change, i think; i’d been relying, a little, on the risperidone when i went to sleep, and now that I was taking so much less of it, my body chemistry needed to adjust, and get back into a rhythm, something that was happening very slowly, given a little faith, prayer, and general realization that I needed to do, and enjoy doing, the things I would do if I had a partner, since i wasn’t going to form a partner, not realistically, and, also, even if i did, i would eventually be left to the same chemical construction in my brain that i have now.

     That fact that I hadn’t worked on my new album, or composed any jazz or classical music, in ages, had to do with the fact that I was spending so much time on my physics, and, beyond that, i was first and foremost a painter and a poet and a writer—a poet and writer that focused on the written word itself, words that were meant to be read, ideally in silence.  No matter how good a singer songwriter, or a composer, I might’ve been if i could dedicate myself to it first and foremost, the fact was that I couldn’t—that i was inclined to do other things first—things that, to me, were simply more important—things that, i felt, had a better chance, given my history, and my output, to be noticed, things that, primarily, identified me.  Only after those needs had been met did I feel the need to produce music—something that I hadn’t been taught as a child, something that I’d learned a little, for a few years, in my twenties, but something that, ultimately, I didn’t have time or the tools to pursue in the same way that I can now—with the help of a computer—something that I can compose music with, and play my music on, without a lot of experience with an instrument—or many instruments, as the case may be.

     I’d been watching Anna on social media a little and i heard her talking about people getting rushed into a relationship with a loser, and by loser she meant someone that doesn’t respect women, but i got the impression she might have meant a little more than that, even if she wasn’t saying it, and I also got the distinct impression that she would define me as a loser, in part, i guess, because of my desires, which could be interpreted, by some, as involving a lack of respect for women, and, also, because of the fact that I had written, in the past, about her relationship with her boyfriend, what i viewed as a certain degree of being in love with herself, and, also, her weight.  I think she would definitely assume that I was disrespecting her, when, well, what am I supposed to do?  She’s a public figure, I have a book to write, a book that, mind you, is not the same thing as openly disrespecting someone in public, but, rather, it’s a book, a form of entertainment.  Also, I wasn’t trying to attack her—I was thinking out loud, trying to process the fact that she doesn’t want me, and, that, after a while, I began to lose interest in her.  She no longer seemed to be my Ursula, and, while I do not rule out the possibility, as time goes on, the possibility, even in a heaven in which she might like me, seems to remain unlikely.  There are other women out there that I might want more, and, in saying that, well, I mean no disrespect.  Just like I mean no disrespect when I write a book.  I don’t go overboard, I changed the name around, it’s a work of fiction, and, also, it’s just a book—it’s not a confrontation.

     Well, I’d been living in a world in which almost every lover I imagined was blond, and, indeed, that seemed to be what I wanted, but Anna’s resurgence—her dark hair and eyes, provided some contrast, and got me to thinking that, after spending x amount of time with x amount of blonds, i might find that darker hair and or a darker complexion were, as it had seemed when I was focused, mostly, on Anna, actually on the table.  So i backed off a little bit from this assumption that, although, in general, i seemed to favor blonds, i might necessarily be meant for a blond—when, in fact, i just haven’t met someone that would prove me wrong.  I think the point, ultimately, wasn’t whether or not you were blond with blue eyes—indeed, i believed that, in heaven, we, from time to time, could change some things about the way we looked, possibly even permanently, although, once in heaven, I’m not sure i understand why we’d want to—but the point, i think, was that we could understand each other.  That for me, might’ve meant that my lover was not entirely straight and or monogamous, but it didn’t necessarily mean that.  It could just mean that she understood that about me—and or I understood that, or not that, about her.

     So I’d been avoiding certain social media since seeing Anna was a little painful and confusing.  Ever since I’d become obsessed with physics, and my mistakes, and rewriting the nonsense i wrote when i didn’t know any better, which had been going on for a while now, I’d hardly been projecting her voice, either, if at all.  In fact I’d hardly been projecting my voice either—when i took a bath I projected a voice when I recited my lines, but that was pretty much it, and I hadn’t been taking a lot of baths of late either.  The idea of paying for that much water if i wasn’t going to sit there for a long time didn’t make any sense, and sitting there for a long time, with so many questions on my mind—questions to pose AI with, didn’t make a lot of sense either.  I took a bath today, for example, to try and align a little, and to try and get my back and shoulders to relax a little, but I probably wouldn’t take one tomorrow, or even the day after that.  Then again, who can say?

     Anna split with her boyfriend, which was a little exciting, but, really, what was there to be excited about?  The thought that we might, in 5D, actually be right for each other, and this break up was some indication of that?  But what about my Swedish blond?  Would that mean, in fact, that i had actually been with her in the past, and i would end up with Anna in the future?  Not necessarily, no matter how much I might want to believe it, which, frankly, at this point I’m a little over it.  Even if I met Anna in this life, I would feel so inadequate, due to my inability to look after myself, and her elevated status, that a sexual relationship would prove impossible, even if it was just a casual thing—in fact, especially if it was just a casual thing.  And if she is meant to be with me in the next life?  Well, honestly, if i were her, and i had the chances that she had, I would find someone to partner with in this life—even if we weren’t meant to be together in 5D—even if we never really were or would be together in 5D, so the notion that she might remain single, and we might establish a pure channel, without interference or telepathic confusion, seemed a little hopeless.  Even if she found a partner, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t speak to me still—she just might not realize that I would be an eventual partner; but that wasn’t even necessarily true, either.  I had no reason to think that she, like someone that marries twice, might leave it up to God to decide who she would be with in the afterlife.

     You don’t know me.  But i disagreed, at least a little; i had some idea of what she might be like, but it was true that I could have constantly been talking to different Ursulas, and, in that sense, never really gotten to know just one.  So who was this?  Had I ever directly spoken to her before?  And what did she expect?  Why was she saying this?  A general characteristic of my Ursula seems to be that she, at times, can be a little insecure.  Which is fine—I have no problem with that; indeed, I must, at least in the next life, if not this life, find it attractive.  I know, however, that while we could be a little insecure in the next life, it is a perfect life, so we couldn’t ever be too insecure.  Then we would be unhappy, and the defining characteristic of the next life is that nobody is unhappy.  Even the shades that don’t really exist, that feed on bad, are happy, because they are going to that which completes them, and they are doing, already, that which makes the people around them happy.  Does that mean these people are bad?  No, it doesn’t have, too.  They might be a little oblivious to something, but, in fact, they treat others with respect, and they are treated with respect.  There is no unhappiness in heaven.