The Homecoming

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“Twenty-five years and my life is still
Trying to get up that great big hill of hope
For a destination…”

– What’s Up?, 4NonBlondes

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I don’t think I’ve fully recovered yet from Homecoming Weekend.  I think I was drunk for four entire days.  My voice is hoarse and I sound like a villain in a horror movie;  I’ve been leaving around a trail of tissues since getting this massive cold; and my body malaise has lingered around despite having two massages already.

Of course, it was fun getting in touch with all the girls I grew up with.  We all had our own stories to tell.  Most have been divorced/annulled or are in the process of getting one, often because they got cheated on by their husbands.  Heck, even the lone lesbian in the group, the very butch one, got cheated on by her girlfriend. Others were still in loving marriages although had their share of husband bashing.  Very few, like me, have remained single, although all of us would have rather we didn’t.

But all of them seemed financially set, except for me.  They had their own houses, cars with drivers, businesses, investments.  They could afford to go on trips on their own steam.  And I think, more than being forlorn, this is what got to me the most.  Because even if I was single, being abundantly wealthy, would have taken the sting out of that.  Although no one was outrightly judgemental about my situation, I could feel how they segregated me when they talked about other stuff.

The most successful one in our batch, IMHO, is a dermatologist with a very lucrative practice.  She’s got A-list clients left and right.  And I can’t even afford her services, except for the very basic ones.  She was talking about this mystic who gave out Millenium Healings for A-list people.  When I asked how much the service cost, expressing interest in the matter, she was hesitant to tell me.  Actually, I felt that she was even discouraging me from it because it was well beyond my price range.  That stung.

I was interested because I wanted to know if I “needed” the service, given that I’m an activated starseed indigo with powers of my own.  And after perusing what the service was about, heck, I can even provide the service to others myself, and whatnot, except that I don’t because that takes an exceptional amount of energy and more than being a “healer”, I am primarily an anchor for higher frequency energies which is taxing in itself.  In other words, I’d serve the Universe better by “mass broadcasting” instead of just focusing on the humans one at a time.  It’s a pretty cool job.  I don’t have to do much, just be myself.  However, it does have its drawbacks.  One, I don’t get to monetize it like those who do specific healings or readings which, again, I understand because that would detract me from having an energy reign in my vicinity; and two, the dispensing karma part of my divine nature is the one that gives me much pain and suffering because most of the humans I dispense the tests to fail miserably and hurt me in the process.

But, again, I understand.  The consequences of their failings have to be lived out by me too in this 3D world, even if they are excruciatingly slow in manifesting, despite being immediate in the other dimensions.  It sucks, but then again, that’s the way it works.

During the festivities, even though I was in a celebratory mood, I realized that I am more pensive and quiet than most.  There was this girl there, however, that was simply loud and annoying.  It was like standing next to a megaphone that she liked to hog.  No, I didn’t like her at all.  I’ve pegged her as a vexation to the spirit, like a mosquito that keeps buzzing nearby that you can’t seem to swat. She does have her funny moments, but more often than not, she makes me feel like playing whack-a-mole.  And she’d be the mole.

Anyway, even if I’d like nothing more than to just chill and sleep off my congested chest and nose, I have to get to work.

 

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