I
went to see my spiritual healer yesterday. It sounds funny, spiritual healer. If I had a better word I'd use it. Some people go to church and some people go to temple, I go to a healer.
There’s a lot to heal with all the muck in the world.
The sessions are always the same. We’ll talk for about an hour and then we get down to business. She’ll lay me on
a table and I’ll have my doubts. I always have doubts. At first I don’t feel
any different, then, things get heavy without me realizing it. She’s a powerful
woman. When it was over I barely could stand. I was light headed. It’s hard to
explain, but my arms went numb, during the healing. I was sweating like a
racehorse. It was as though I ran a few miles. I was covered in sweat. It was
strong.
When
I left her place I drove over the hill on Coldwater Canyon. I was driving at a
safe speed when I noticed bright lights from a SUV right on my tail. I was
trying to be calm, but I found myself getting agitated. The SUV was messing up
my high. What’s the rush? I’m not sure why but there are a lot of morons in Los
Angeles. They can’t slow down. They’re desperate. At best they’ll get there a
few minutes faster and everybody knows that, but they can’t help themselves. It’s
dorky. It seemed there was a lot of bad drivers last night. There were cars
running stop signs. It was too much. You people need to get it together, and
fast, I mean slow down.
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