The Marble Cake Disorder—(Pardon my occasional bad cell "French!")
They never die. They leave their “shit” among us in our cells, our DNA, and spread like diarrhea depending on the percentage of positive or negative cells.
We grieve their bacteria-ridden skin and put marble stones atop their rotting graves (forgive me), but they are still here. Beware of where "they" have been and still are in your mental and physical body.
I am no psychics
professor, but can you imagine the equation for generations of shit? Cells left behind. Good and bad, however, the bad
seem to carry a heavier, louder weight. Say it with a megaphone. Of course,
meekness is not a good cornerstone, yet it is preferred. We mentally paint a pretty
picture of what we want to see, but the other side of the picture is reality. Some call that black and/or white swirling
together like the marble cake mixture of the mind. Impossible. Keep blending it until the black and white levels out and one cannot
take over the other. Hard, I know. Not really if good is chosen, but then, as I
said, the bad dead cells live on, and depending on their strength, their weight can
overtake. So can the good, but the challenge is the rather.
Identify the genes/cells' reproductive shit that is NOT in the grave, rather dancing within you and yours. Kick out the ones that do no good and teach your people the same. (Easy for me to say) The more you “rid,” as in lice, yourself and yours on a continual basis of either the good or bad, they eventually die out and the stronger remains. That is a war that never ends. "The Marble Cake" lives on.
My reference to lice was referring to the immense difficulty in their removal. The product Rid is only the beginning. Each teeny, tiny, minuscule nit (baby) must be picked out by hand, usually more than once. No different than our grandma's generational cells. At least we can see lice!! Grandma left us an invisible challenge.
Religion
calls it good or evil with a Supreme God at the middle in charge of your generational
cake mixture. They say, "Praise and
worship him, and the off-balance marble cake has no power." That works for many to keep the bad cells
from taking over. Balance has never been
easy. Physically or mentally. Balancing dead ancestors is the key to life. Because they are not dead. Grandma’s shit is in your bones, and you better
not forget it.
We busy our
minds. Keep mental rooms with locked doors. When our mental doors are locked, we feel safe and cannot see what is coming. Mentally
or physically until it hits us in the head or knocks us down completely. Like a child hiding under the covers. Yet it's all still there, coming at us or in us. Stop running. Thus, the words. Face your fears or simply
face your generational issues. Or face your
GREATNESS.
It's all in "The Marble Cake."
We all have MPD or MCD to some degree. Multiple
Personality Disorder. Marble Cake Disorder.
You only can
manage and balance your generational Marble Cake.
Taint easy.
The old “He
Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother” (or Grandmother etc.) is not true.
Linley C. Morrison—Grandfather
Grandmother and Great-Grandmother My great-great-grandfather is on the left. Harry Morrison-Me age 4


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