Reality and miracles.

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Miracle class last night. I'm a regular. I'm devoted. Is it helping? I don't know- but I like the feeling when I'm there. So far the most miraculous thing is the price of the course. It's cheap or even free-if you don't have the cash, that is. That is a miracle in LA, my friends. Plus, when I'm there, I get sparkly feelings. Ever had those? Well, they're nice, I tell you and people have paid a lot more and risked their health for a dose of sparkles. Maybe they spike the water with something. I don't know. Who cares? I feel a little bit like John Cusack in 'Being John Malkovich' when he finds the strange business allowing you into the world of John Malkovich. It's not a 'proper' business for 'proper' people. It's off the charts, behind the lanes, between the atoms of reality. It's exciting to be a part of it precisely because it is not what everyone else is doing. You can't look it up in the phone book or make online reservations. I like that. Plus I'm learning things, listening to people and getting a few small miracles myself. I'm hoping its helping me on the journey. Final destination: proper person. Maybe if I start talking in a lower voice? Ahem.
Proper person snapshot: I was dressed in a beautiful red dress, drinking coffee from a silver pot as I ate a full cooked breakfast this morning, overlooking the LA city skyline, floating in the clouds whilst talking to a man who'd survived a heart-attack - an angel? I could have been in heaven. Then the check arrived. "Oh dear", my voice squeaked. Do proper people have to pay that much too? Perhaps I should have stayed in miracle class. You can't sleep over though. You've got to go back out into the world and deal with it. Miraculously, though, the bill WAS paid. "It's working! It's working!" I cried. "The miracle workshops are working!" Well, my boyfriend's credit card was. But miracles come in all shapes and sizes - everybody knows that.