I read in the first chapter of my book that Gypsies laugh about everything, good and bad. This is how they got through thier toughest times. I decided to put this into practice in my life. I had ample opportunity to use this over the weekend. I was hit in a parking lot by a woman on drugs and no sleep. She was doing twenty five, we were stopped and she just swerved into us. Then she said it was our fault. Right. So I laughed the whole time I was in the ER for our sprained necks and shoulders. My mom even became relaxed because of this, and belive me, my mom relaxed never happens. Then on Sunday night someone tried to break into our apartment. They didn't make it in because the deadbolt held. Vundebah! Then my dad and step mom got into a huge fight and almost broke up. I was able to laugh about it all. Not because it is funny, but because it's healing. It gets all the negative emotion out without the runny nose and after headache of crying. Besides, negative emotions cause wrinkles. But yeah, keep on smiling!!

Gypsies live life to the fullest. They make sure that everyday is one they can be proud of. Many people talk bad of Gypsies. They say that they steal, they don't care for other people and so on. Well, in their language, there is no word for stealing. It's borrowing, and if you don't get it back, they feel you should borrow from someone else. Every people has charachter flaws. The Romany certainly aren't without theirs. However, their inability to adapt to modern society makes them seem all the more majickal. They may drive big old Cadillacs instead of wagons, and live in run down shacks more often than not, but they have managed to preserve something of their ancient culture, something no other culture living among the industrialized has managed. I may not have Romany blood, but I can feel the Romany Drom pounding in me with every beat of my heart. This is what makes my life mine.

I noticed in my reading that I have much in common with the Shaman writing the book I'm reading. Things that my family found strange, his family aknowledged as omens that he was to be a shaman. I remember hiding in dark corners, rocking back and forth until I got a vision. I remember visiting other places in my mind that seemed more real to me than this "reality" which only made the few I told think I was crazy. I've never eaten hedgehog, but I do feel a strong connection to nature and animals. Stronger than my bond to any human, except my significant other, who can never seem to understand my love of Things. I always felt that inanimate objects had souls, and would talk to them, and they sometimes answer. This isn't crazy. It's how a shaman does his or her majick. I found this out reading my book. All the years I thought I was crazy. All the years of searching for God. I found my salvation in a book! Too bad it wasn't sooner. But maybe I'll find my place yet. Maybe through this or something else I'll find someone who understands and can help me. This is kinda my cry for help.