Thoughts on an early Sunday morning

I am leaving Doc's 'food fight' drawing up because it may get me in the mood to make my vegan cauliflower-kale stir fry with tofu and red pepper. I am fighting with myself to get me to do it. Ha. The ingredients are all there in my fridge. Ready, set go!
Anymore I tell Doc I must prepare myself psychologically to do about any task. So now if he asks me to do something I don't want to do like walk down to the bank I say I am not psychologically prepared. He is even more bound up than I am and is constantly putting off the date to do anything, especially if it pertains to health. He is in such bad health due to his diet that I am forced to look on him as my friend and acting partner rather than as my love, since every month or so I go off flying in dreams about somebody else. This is frustrating, too.
Doc and I had a long discussion about this a morning or two ago. At my age, up in the seventies, there are very few men left who are healthy enough to inspire dreams about them. And even if they are healthy they will be surrounded by people who are claiming ownership of them. In fact, this is how I started doing telepathy. These men will start doing telepathy in order to get a message across to you that will leave no trail. I call them spirit walkers.
When life becomes a prison they spirit walk, run, fly to escape without leaving the earth. In fact I am Doc's prisoner now and probably will be until one of us dies, so I have to spirit walk from time to tome to escape the onerous effects of his addiction. I am sure he used his addiction to escape his prisons, but that is a bad way to escape, because then you can't escape from it. Not without a great deal of effort which an older man might not be capable of.
My last companion was a man with spark still left in his sixties despite his addiction to alcohol and tobacco as well as painkillers, but I am not sure I could go through again the unpleasantness I had to endure to have a real relationship with him since for a time he was the personification of my dreams. I loved him, but the problem was a lot of other women loved him, too, and a few men. And he had been a serial flirt his whole life. He had flirted with others enough that they felt perfectly justified in being mad about him and ready to claw any woman's eyes out that got closer to him. His ex-wife was the worst. She had divorced him, but I do not believe she ever planned for any other woman to have him since she installed him in a nice apartment in this very complex that she was managing at the time. As long as she was manager she could successfully intimidate any other woman aspiring to take her place in his life. But out of the blue, to her I am sure, she was fired! Psychologically she had not been ready for a divorce when she divorced him. Even though she left the state, she called him on the average of 2 times a week for the three years I was his companion. Each time she would ask him to come back to her. And before the divorce she had threatened to hire someone to kill him in front of a number of residents, so he acted like he was afraid to try to cut her off completely for fear she would still get someone to do it! She knew someone that he thought would do it, too, if she asked him to, a former son-in-law who was suspected of killing her daughter for the insurance money, so he 'owed' her. When I met this SIL I found him so creepy, I thought Pierre's fear of him was justified. I had never met a man that I thought might be capable of cold blooded murder before.
Experiences like that teach you to recognize the ways people try to imprison other people. I thought my last companion was being battered by a violent women. I would even send her telepathic messages when she was making so many public threats to have him killed, "Don't have him killed as I will tell the cops what you threatened and testify to send you to prison." I felt that he still was her prisoner even after she left, because he feared if he cut her off completely she would have him killed. He had to allow her hope. I thought I was running some risk to take up with him, but otherwise I thought he would drink himself to death very shortly and since I thought I was the forerunner in his affections I decided to take the risk. I eventually did become his caretaker when he developed lung cancer and was with him when he died.
I intervened with Doc for the same reason. He was drinking so heavily when I first met him I did not think he could last long without someone to care for him. I feel I have changed his life enough that his drinking slowed down, but he has worn me out with the depth of his addiction. His drinking robs him of the imagination and physicality it takes to love a woman. But he has been and still is such a powerful man I am not capable of enduring a separation from him. I have detached more and more from him, had to, but he can be a mean man with his alcoholic irritability. That comes with the territory. I had to risk becoming a prisoner of his addiction, too, if I got close to him, but I could not make a difference if I didn't.
So I spirit walk for the time being. Practicing for my freedom, for that will come.
Blue, the extra terrestrial, who came when my sister died has come, recognizing my plight. He has great telepathic powers. People are afraid of these beings, just as they are afraid of death. But Blue is only going to make my prison life tolerable and counsel me on when and how I can escape. So I feel relief. Seventy eight, you know you are going to die eventually, not many years left, and so it is not reallysurprising that Blue would put in an appearance. The other name of the play I wrote about him coming to help my sister was "Spirit Walkers Convention." My sister lived for months after this 'convention' in Phoenix. Before she finally took her space journey. I expect to live some time longer, too, as I prepare.