Holiday Blues?

I like facing a blank page. The emptiness of a blank page begs to be filled with something useful, something nice. Great empires began on a blank page, like the US Constitution, the Carta Magna and the Lord of the Rings. So, when I feel weird, or stressed, I turn to a blank page and try to fill it with something useful, like the map above, which is, possibly, a map of my consciousness. 

A large part of my tooth fell out yesterday, and I have this jagged edge which is uncomfortable to the extreme. I was planning since a few days going to the dentist to fix it because I don't have to start until 1300 today, so it seems like a good idea. But I don't have the "strength" to do it. Not only the money, which is quite slow because of the downturn in car-rentals for the holiday season, but also the idea of sitting on a chair being tortured for a few hours, no matter how important it is to my bucal hygene. 

The last few weeks of November and the first few weeks of December I have been feeling the blues. It's this general unease of not feeling that I have a viable life-project, my ayahuasca dreams have seriously been put on hold, and it's not about the pandemic, it's about me. Something changed drastically when mom died. 

Duh.

But I am still trying to figure out what that change means. Fear. I think fear entered my heart for the first time. Fear of what? Death? Fear of not mattering? Fear of not being able to help my loved ones? I must admit my greatest fear is for Nanda, Rasa and my two cats. I could gladly go off into the woods to die, but then what of them? 

I have a chipped tooth since March of last year and I think I will be able to get these kids on a good path towards self-fulfillment? All of last year was spent helping mother die. HELPING MOTHER DIE. It's that a kind of murder? Never did we think she would recover. I told her over and over she was dying. It's like I killed her somehow. 

Leaving for Oregon, letting mom and sis on their own, that was the last nail on the coffin, and I placed it there because I didn't know what else to do. My plans to go into an ayahuasca farm-mode needed the approval and harmony of my mother and sister, and I was foolish to think I could get that. And yet, I was always the one everybody counted upon to get things done. TO buy food. Pay for the gas and the light. Pay the water-bill. 

It was all an illusion. All of it. 

So, what is the truth?

I got two flakey teens who want to leave me as soon as possible but don't have a way to do it yet. I got two cats who depend 100% on me keeping my shit together. I got an apartment that I keep by the skin of my teeth, working 6 days a week just to pay the rent. I have lost faith in my numerous projects. All my books are shit and don't sell. My YouTube channel is not going anywhere. Not being in Valle demolished my tarot business. And having ayahuasca retreats seems a far-away dream. Even my little stint as a DMT dealer went south.  I feel impotent. Worse yet, the folks who really depend on me to keep my shit together, Nanda and Rasa (and the 2 cats) don't really think I am all there. And mostly, they are right. I can't seem to motivate Nanda to get out of his room, and Ras.. She is a dreamer. An optimist. The most dangerous kind.

She is also my best hope. Her motivation, energy and sheer manic energy make me think she's be ok. She's going to school. She's working. She's trying everything... She is, more than anyone, like me. A younger, more energetic me. Full of dreams. Heart of fucking gold. Full of herself. She knows she is the alpha male of this household. Mostly, I drive her crazy. She can't stand me, and I don't blame her. She is literaly like the polar opposite. And exactly like me. Gods,  I love the little shit. 

I am so fucking worried for them. Both of them need to get good paying jobs and be independent. I need to figure out how to send Rasa to Europe. She needs to see something more than Valle, Iztapalapa and Bogota. Nanda is a wise old soul. He will have fun no matter what. 

And then there is the cats. Having two cats is like having a huge root-system, being firmly planeted in a single place, making sure that their feline-nesses have cat food and clean litter. All escape plans must be discarded. The fort must be defended at all costs. The cat litter must be cleaned daily.  It is amazing how stessful it is to worry about two cats. When them around, I just can't leave my job and go live in a cave. They would not have it. The kids would survive. But the cats?

Mawi 3D brought me back from a psilocibin OD because he was hungry and he licked my face until I fed him. Lucifer and Dementia are the same. They are keeping me away from the Hermit's cave because they need someone to clean their cat-litter, and in order to clean their cat-litter, I must keep working for Budget Rent-A-Car.  As absurd as that sounds, that is the actual truth. 

My soul, my life belong to two cats and two kids. And the younger of the cats is named Lucifer.

I can honestly say, with no limitations that my soul belongs to Lucifer. And Demencia.