I’m sure they have no idea what to make of me–the people in the small town I live in.
I was joking with MoonPluto that I live in the same town as in What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?” I’ll cop to about 15% of that assessment taking dramatic poetic license, but that’s a generous estimate. I once sat in this town waiting for my daughters band concert to start while I listened to a conversation between large men in overalls on how to properly retrieve and prepare roadkill.
At least, I think they were large men in overalls. I make it a point to have minimal eye contact when I am having an out-of-body experience.
The local grocery store here in the land of cornstalks-and-good-ol’-boys starting carrying prayer candles. They don’t cost much and I like the spiritual, heavenly theme, so I get them to burn during readings and rituals. I think religious-themed items can carry the energy of the archetypes. Like tapping that vein from the collective unconscious. So I buy a bunch of them. Repeatedly.
I know townsfolk already look at me weird. Some more friendly than others. Don’t know if bulk prayer candle consumption adds or distracts from my mystique as that crazy, pink haired Tarot reader lady. I have no idea what they make of me, period.
But you know what? I prefer it that way. If you figure it out, I don’t want to know! I’d rather leave it in the fog and not have to bother. I’ll be over here ============>> living in my magic fairy world. It’s beautiful here!
Anybody else feel like the town “color”?