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I've written one blog entry today for felixperegrino.com, and I still got the urge to express myself. God knows why. I seem to be doing less scheduled events than ever. At least I'm done for a while. I may have an appointment in a couple of months, but that's it for now. The appointments I keep are a big deal. I sorta have to keep them or I lose out on free stuff that could cost me more than I'm willing to pay. Not that it matters.
The lottery tickets I've been faithfully checking were not valid. October 4th was the last date they were. That's how it's been going with me as far as time is concerned. It flies when I'm having fun. I must have been having a lotta fun. I was checking the numbers on tickets that were dead and I didn't even notice. I remedied that by buying some more.
Buying lottery tickets is something I do by habit. I got a method, but it's apparently not a winning way. I buy the same numbers for ten sequential drawings. It costs me $10. Recently, the State Lottery added the MegaMillions lottery to the PowerBall lottery. Now it costs me $20 every five weeks to play both lotteries. Presently, I got numbers for both lotteries. The PowerBall is 250 million, and the MegaMillions is at 48 million. As long as I got legitimate numbers, there IS a chance in hell that I could win. '-)
The anthropologist Margaret Mead was a popular read when I was young. Her writings allowed me to convince myself that humans of the masculine gender are born gamblers. Personally, I don't think gambling is exclusively masculine. Getting pregnant appears to be just as much a gamble as betting the farm on a roll of the dice is.
Being born a miser has always placed limitations upon any inherent penchant for gambling that has popped up on occasion. There were unnecessary complications involved with this dynamic because I didn't know my chief feature was avarice back then. I've only been aware of that possibility for a decade now. When I became aware via intuition that this was definitely the case it changed everything for my contemplations of self.
The behavior patterns I exhibit when some deep understanding opens in consciousness for me are recognizable now, but they haven't always been. I became aware of what a "chief feature" was and what mine probably is in one fell swoop, back when I was out driving a semi, and the reason I know the intuition was gospel for me was that I didn't drive semi trucks for long after that. I got what I needed from that deluded endeavor, and hit the road from hitting the road.
I mean to indicate by the phrase "hitting the road from hitting the road" an away sort of thing. In fact, I meant to indicate that I came home and have been here since. Driving that truck was the last time I lived on the road. It's probably not coincidental that the Sun in my natal chart progressed into Cancer, the sign of the home. I'm taking a vacation from my life as a vacation.
Staying at home presents problems for me. Maybe the biggest one is how I relate to other people who have been here the whole time I was out and about. I have a tendency to treat people like I probably won't know them long. I treat them like they're gonna stay a stranger, but only because I have had itchy feet, in the past. What's the point of getting too intimate with people that are usually here today, but gone tomorrow.
People who have stayed in the same place and grew where they were planted are admirable to me in certain ways. It's like, when I grow up I wanna be just like them. The thing is that here I am seventy-two years old and counting... and I still feel the same way.
The people I admired for being domesticated grew out of it, and they don't know how to not treat people like they are strangers who won't be around forever. I'm not telling. I told them suckers they'd come around before the cows came home, but they called me a fool. My reaction was to shut my mouth so they wouldn't know it, and so they still don't. No blame.
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