Wipe it

Yet another day of discovery of Self and dodgy home habits. Why does tablecloth stink to high hell? As a promotional tool to keep wiping our tables clean...the Business of housekeeping lies in the delicate piece of square material, I find it really exciting to wrap left over bits of food from the counter and table top then proceed to chunk it in the sink. I am discovering profound conversations with my own self on how to refine the techniques of totally cleaning it out without leaving marks on the glassware. Am I boring you? Right that is my strategy.
Is it a preposterous notion to think that governments and scientist would go to the length of wrapping the truth in an otherwise benign looking science facility? After all, it is just a theory surrounding an operation and claiming a conspiracy, All out of a fiction book? Well, I have begun to rekindle the simple joys of looking feeling and touching through fresh eyes when reading a book. Especially when historical facts has become for grown up in the last 35 years- what it always was for kids - where it was like a beautiful place where you can mess about with things and shape shift them with the wizardry of your mind.
Thoughts, Words and Action whatever that you want to imprint your reality is within your control. Your emotions are part of your thoughts and emotions are powerful and raw energies. I realize that in the weekend when I had a little conflict with my mate over who gets to read a Paulo Coelho book first (like 5 year old kids) No complications just a charged argument that seem to swirl near to the Black of Hole of Bitches.
I have discovered my uncontrolled temperaments of nervous tension and going down to the deep end. Playing the scenes tirelessly in my mind's eye is so destructive that it forces me to Marks and Spencer's Extremely Chocolately Treats. Damm, My diet is ruin again! But this is about not about my girly concerns; this is about something that is greater than my calorie counting. Really it is, honest to God. I beared a full day and a half of being uncomfortable with the friend I had a fight with. Trying to sweep the dirt under the rug, grin my teeth and just bear it to save her and myself the troubles to confront a childish uncomfortable truth, we are childish fools. Kids, idiots. No. Not at all. We just did not know how to start communicating about something so elementary.
Then I opened my bouche and dished the dirt. We wiped it. We creamed each other. Oh yes, you are liking a catfight! Oh yes, the claws emerge from comments like, I did this and you didn’t and you did this and blah blah blah,
We cleaned each other out. Yes! One opening the dishwashing machine and bringing out the grime filth past that the other did not even know about. The mathematical precision of two gals ( Most like Venus and Serena) playing tennis and passing comments like a speeding bullet ball bouncing around the court. The most terrifying force in nature, Confrontation. I am so glad that we did the complex work and was uncomfortable honest. We wiped the slate clean. We were square, the stains that are annoying left by the stink of the old tablecloth is still there on the glassware. But now, I prefer to see it as characters and marks of a friendship transcendening, seeing its first fight. Re-solved and dissolved. What is the step necessary step taken to this conflict?
Wipe it with whatever you got. With your Blood , Sweat and tears... No matter how much you think it might dirty your perfectly manicured hands.