It is so nice to see rain.
This time of year, rain is absolutely beautiful to me. I could sleep the ages away. This week has otherwise been totally horrendous as far as the heat is concerned. It reminds me of that old Twilight Zone episode, The Midnight Sun. There is AC in some areas of my workplace, but not exactly in my area. Yesterday afternoon, I felt so crazy from the heat that I had this irrational panicky urge to rush home, drive like a madman, just to get under my fan. This stagnant humid air has been so oppressive that even breathing seems like a chore. I've had coughing fits that make me feel I'm drowning on dry land. I almost had to pull over on my way to work this morning for that happening when I was trying to drive. Mornings suck. Forcing myself to get up and go is hard enough without getting the daylights scared outta me by my own body. We are at the peak of the dog days or so I believe. About the middle of next month will hopefully bring some relief. Though I am dreading both mine and Marsha's birthdays. The former will be the first without her well wishes. The latter will be the first where I cannot call her to wish her well, to tell her I wish her birthday to be as awesome as she is. Life sucks without the people you love. When I close my eyes, I can see her, almost hear her voice in my head. What am I gonna do now, Sis? What am I gonna do now?
One way I do not fit into this modern world is my undying hatred for touchscreen technology. Maybe it works for people with teensy tiny fingers, but it sure sucks for the rest of us. I like buttons. Give me buttons. Their ability not to be pressed when one didn't press them is a good thing. Now that my employer has switched all the time clocks over to this touch crap, it takes me 3 or 4 attempts to put my correct number in. My phone is another headache, opening stuff I did not want because the screen gets brushed or bumped. Yep Yep, give me buttons, beautiful buttons. I am simply made for a different era. Born in the 1970s with a 1990s mindset. That's me, alright. The only good thing is that the internet is faster, but sadly with a lot of the cool pages from back then long gone. I want Web 1.0 with the speed of 2.0. It is a mixture of irony and sadness just how time gets away from us. I was young once, you know? And it does not seem to have been all that long ago. Middle age, old age might seem like a thousand years away when you're 20 or so, but trust me that it will happen far sooner than you might think. It's kind of a bummer if you ask me. I think life should have a practice run where we learn all the important lessons, with the real deal happening only when we truly know just how precious and fleeting youth, friendship, and those we love so very much truly are. It is the harshest cruelty to only find out the true depth of meaning and importance of moments and people after they are gone forever. To be blunt, it freaking hurts like hell, man.
I think we all have our demons. And if there are those who don't, well that must be a good thing and I'd envy them so much. Not one demon, not one gremlin, not one single regret? But I myself have quite the collection: Little demons, big demons, medium demons, tiny monsters and El Gigant-o demonzillas from outer freakin space. The little ones love to nibble on the nerves. They play solos on the strings. They play drums on the mind. Sorry, but little Johnny and that fiddle ain't got nothing on these guys. Granny, do the regrets bite? Yes they do. I have quite a laundry list myself. Now I probably need to clarify that I'm speaking figuratively not literally. These demons are of the metaphorical variety. Though I kinda picture them as devious, mischievous little gremlins. Maybe I'll name a few. How about I start with the spectre? I feel invisible a lot of the time. This is true in real life as it is out there on the binary seas. Maybe this is only my perception. Maybe it is true for a lot of people. I would have my serious doubts about being the only one. I may be crazy, but not quite to that degree. I know that this is really nobody's fault. If I were to place blame at all it would be placed at my own feet. But, really I cannot see being myself and doing very much differently than I already have. I am of the belief that going against one's own nature is only possible to a certain degree. Going beyond that degree is just too much stress, too much pain. You've gotta be as true as you can. That is the reason that the molds that society cast are indeed ill fitting and thus harmful in my little opinion. I once tried conforming to that mold and it truly drove me mad. I had to do something for the sake of my sanity, even if especially in this locality, It made me appear to have gone off the deep end. But I guess I've already alluded enough to that story, true though it may be. It is a really lonely feeling sometimes. I cannot really explain it. It can just be so empty at times. Grief is the next gremlin.
One of the biggest lessons I learned this year is that I'm not as privy to my own thoughts and feelings as I think I am. They catch me off my guard in so many ways. Ever have a wound cut so deep that it hurts aspects of yourself you never before knew existed? Ever find yourself pleading in emptiness, come back, please don't go? The room is empty but it damned well shouldn't be. I dreamed about my baby sister again. Only this time she seemed to know why I was so upset. These dreams seem to come out of nowhere. The good dreams are the ones where I forget I lost her and its like days gone by, reliving happier times. The really bad one was where I knew and she didn't, and I couldn't tell her. This one, we both knew. I remember taking her hand and trying to speak, but all that I could say was no, no, no. It's almost like I am repeating that moment over and over again. I held her hand also on that terrible day. She was not conscious, but it seemed she squeezed my hand just once. I wonder if she knew I was there. And in my dream she was awake and alive and talking to me, though I can't remember a single word she was saying, only my own words instead, my words of No, no, no, don't go. It was like I couldn't be happy being around her because I knew I was losing her. I hate that I speak of this over and over again, but this is what occupies my mind and haunts my heart. I cannot separate these thoughts, this pain from everything else that goes on in my life. It is a part of me. I cannot begin a workweek in a positive state or with a smile on my face if I spent the previous night begging a treasured loved one to come back from the dead. I can't fake positivity, folks. I cannot express what I cannot feel. The next monster I will speak of is my own heavy thoughts that I have to fight against day after day. I never spell them out, but context does cast a light.
When it comes to certain things, if people are concerned at all, they're concerned about all the wrong things. They look for the wrong signs. If someone is sad, if they cannot fight the tears, they're still fighting something. They have not given up. They still care about the future, even if the present hurts so much. Be there for them by all means. Hold them, let them know they are loved somehow, some way. But.. They're still trying. Deep beneath the pain, deep within their soul, there is still a spark of hope. It is only when hope dies that you will see the change, relief and apathy going forward. There may be sadness still, but there is this disconnect. It's like they won't be facing it much longer. It means they have resolved to end the pain. They will not talk about it openly because they do not wish to be stopped. They have quit trying so desperately to hold on, they've stopped struggling, stopped fighting the undertow. Hope must be rekindled somehow. It is the only way to save them from those darkest depths. Sometimes all it takes is letting them know you love them, care for them, that they add meaning to the lives around them. To be needed is a need in itself. It truly is.
The next of those figurative demons, those metaphorical gremlins are the ones that like to point out things that make me feel so totally unworthy. I find myself wondering if they're right. It is true that I've never been perfect. It is also true that there are certain times in my past where I just want to go back and punch myself Tyson style, give myself a good Chuck Norris roundhouse kick. There were times I simply could have been a better person. I could have appreciated things more. I could have made a better effort to understand. Maybe I was young. Maybe I didn't know how to handle all the chaos within and without. But that is an excuse I cannot accept. So, yes I have regrets. I did some things right, but I too had many cringe worthy screw ups. And maybe due to changes and lessons learned, it's no longer me I'm talking about but somebody I was long ago. But regrets are my inheritance. The person is long gone and I'm all that's left. If I could go back and be the person I am today, I would do so many things differently. It wouldn't even take the slightest effort, just 2022 me acting naturally in 1990 or so. It's messed up that we rarely if ever get a chance to use the harsh lessons that we learned. Regrets are the meanest demons, the toughest gremlins in that hoard surrounding me. It's a courtroom where I am the accused, the prosecutor, and the judge. A very harsh and dire judge at that. We are always toughest on ourselves. The more painful the regret, the more powerful the lesson. And sometimes being this fallible mess of a human being is the toughest thing of all. Ignorance must truly be bliss because all too often it seems that to learn is to hurt. You can't be old and wise without being young and dumb first. The human condition in a nutshell, and no doubt the source of a few of my very own demons. Though I wish we could erase them and redo the past. Life has a lot of wasted lessons. What is the point if we cannot apply what we've learned?
The next critters I will talk about are anxiety and depression. These gremlins have been with me so long that I can only guess what a life without them would be like. They've been around since my childhood and there's no sign of them leaving me anytime soon. Another little monster I'd like to mention has a first name of Identity and a last name of crisis. Though this critter, in a nod to the CEO of Hell Corp, has many names too. Ever get tired of images and reflections that either hide the truth or even outright lie? Yeah, me too. Very little I can do about that, either. As Cronkite would say, That's the way it is. So there you are: All the dwarfs to my Snow White... Well, most of them anyway. But there are a hell of a lot more than seven and they sure ain't bringing home any diamonds. High ho high ho.... Hey, didn't the gremlins absolutely love Snow White? Hey, I'm several dwarfs rolled in to one, certainly grumpy and sleepy. And I too, hate goodbye.
Why can't life be as chipper as an old Disney movie like that one? Then again, I would have to ask myself just when would I feel like breaking into song? The only deer I see are the ones that jump out in front of my car on the way to work. There's no birdies landing on my shoulder, no squirrels running up to my feet. Though I did see one in the warehouse at my job the other day. Yep, I was nuts to be there too. Plus they don't exactly help with housework either. Disney, you raised my expectations to a dangerous height. Shame, shame. Those rootin tootin raggin fraggin varmits won't even wash a single dish. Oooooh, I hates those critters! I hope you read that in Yosemite Sam's voice. Yep I don't exactly think the old Warner Brothers characters would fit into the Disney movies very well. Though they would make them a lot more interesting. Yosemite Sam and Elmer Fudd in the enchanted forest. Wow, boy have I ever jumped the ship of topic! Be a pal and throw me a raft. Row row row your boat and watch watch watch for sharks. Duh duh.... Duh duh duhduh. What kind of a cruise is this?! More like the HMS Bounty than the Love Boat. Let's just hope I fare better than those guys did.
I guess I have made half the circle in this blog, starting on the direst, coldest part of winter and finding myself in the hottest part of the summer. Only the feelings stay the same. The losses still weigh heavily on my heart. As I said at the beginning of this long rambling, next month is birthday month in my family. Mine, my father's, and both my sisters. Marsha's is exactly one week after mine. It's going to be lonely, depressing, and just plain tough. My first birthday without my mother and my baby Sis. Her first birthday that I cannot call her, speak to her, tell her that I think she's totally awesome. Just an empty day, a couple of empty days just one week apart. Words fail at expressing this emptiness, of describing this void. I lost her in January, but it seems I lose her every day, every morning when I awake to this new reality. Words fail so much, fall so short. I have another day to make it through, and I must find a way. It has been mainly this, but so many more things that have put me into a sort of mental Limbo. I feel like a wandering, tormented soul whose body happens to still be alive. I had my problems before losing my sister, but they have been both magnified and overshadowed by her loss. See, she kinda kept me grounded. Our phone numbers were each other's crisis hotlines. She was there when I needed somebody to talk to, and I made it a point to be there for her in the same way. We looked after each other mentally. It is tough to describe. We had several demons in common and we we're each other's backup to fight them. The two of us together like Klingon Warriors would kick some demonic ass all over the lot. Now, I must fight these monsters alone, without my guardian sister by my side. Those figurative little monsters seem all the more ferocious, all the more bold and brash, now that it's only me. But even though she is gone, this is still for my little sister, and I will make sure any victory over me is gonna cost them severely. In short, I promise her I will not go down without a fight.
One thing I have been trying to do to get my mind straight is to get back into some of my old hobbies. I started building my DOS games menu more than a couple of decades ago. It has evolved over the years and I hope there will be others besides just my kids who will enjoy it someday. It combines a lot of levels, demos, mods, even a few of my own creations, all set up with batch files that run all the right commands to launch them, making it all basically point and click. There are more levels than I could play in a lifetime, but I just keep adding more. I guess my hobby is more in getting stuff to work, rather than playing them. It's like building a world where I am able to get my creative self rockin. It also distracts me from a lot of those heavy thoughts. There are a few of the level authors who are no longer with us. I guess that happens when a gaming community has been around for almost 29 years. I want to make sure people will get to enjoy their awesome creations in the original way, and maybe on a smaller scale that people enjoy my collection of what I believe to be the absolute best. Back in the 1990s and early 2000s, a lot of these authors hosted their levels on very creative webpages, and I also try to save and preserve what I can of them. To me, that era was a very special time. I really want people to know and see what it was like. There is a certain duke Nukem mod I found that just screams the 90's. When you have Southpark, Primus, and The Presidents Of The United States Of America, yep.. The 90s. It was a time of my own personal life when everything still seemed possible. It was also when I made a series of bad decisions that cast the die for everything to follow. Part of me will be forever stuck in the 20th century and I guess it shows in my taste for movies, music, and games. It might be why I try to keep the 90s alive in my little collection of digital stuff. It's more than nostalgia, really. I'd honestly go back if I could. Loved ones to cherish, mistakes to erase, levels and game pages to grab off the 90's web. I would practically sell my soul of I could just to go back. You see, there is a singularity, a focus, when it comes to desperation. There are just so many things I would do differently, such as never answering my phone that day in the summer of '98. I should have ignored the call and continued working on my games. Hindsight is sometimes too clear. It's like watching a horror movie when those dummies say, "Hey, lets split up!" and I say, "Don't do it!". Yep.. Just like that. Except its a younger version of me being the dummy.
I know I've already said this, but I love the sound of the rain. It is so very beautiful to me. I think of fading television snow, washing everything away. In a world that plays lead guitar on my last nerves, the rain is one of the few things that soothes me. It's like a lullaby. I almost feel okay. These are moments I need so much. It just seems like everything's gone to hell since just before that damn hurricane hit us back in 2018. Nothing's ever really been right since then. Then this damnable year happened, took so much away from me. So these little moments are all I really have, A nice rainy day, television snow, fading, fading away... Washing away the anxiety, the regret, and the pain. Giving me a pocket universe of tranquility until the moment is gone and I must go on. I know I don't deal as a normal person would. I simply can't. I have to find my own way. It may seem crazy. Maybe it is. Maybe I am, but it really is the only way left to me. I have been thinking of so many things. There's just been too many things that have happened for me not to think some deep and heavy thoughts. I really wish there were such a thing as truly starting over. No, not in this time, but back then. I have learned so much since. I was just not ready. Just one more go, just one second chance. I wouldn't need a third. I know exactly what I would do, as well as the how and when. That is the true cruelty of time. You can't go back. Yet I still fruitlessly think a lot about what I would do if I could, a part of myself that argues with what is and just can't accept the waste and the loss and the unfairness of it all, not just to me but for Marsha who deserved so much better. It is the reality but I cannot reconcile to it, I hate it with every fiber of my being. It is just not right and it will never be right. The only right is in the rain, in that soothing sound that makes me feel a part of the universe, even if I often wonder why it seems to hate me so much. My dealings with said universe are a bit too reminiscent of the dealings between Wile E Coyote and the ACME Corporation. Now that's a damned negative way to think, a rut I have tried so hard to stay out of. But it's a persistent little devil. I'll grant it that much, though I make every effort to fight against it in any way I can. It really seems this year, this day and age find me changed, ever so different, never again to be the same. It seems I've only begun, and I have to wonder if even I will ever truly understand. If it is such a tall order for myself, then how could I ever expect others to decode the mess that I am, the person I have come to be? I couldn't and I won't. And maybe a lot of this doesn't really matter anyway. What was it that the Martian said at the end of that 1980 TV miniseries? So long as you see your world and I see mine? Yeah, something like that. It's your world. It's my world. And we'll each see our own. And maybe that is the meaning to glean from all the chaos.
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