Seasonal Rollercoaster

 

It has been an absolutely beautiful day outside considering it's the day before Thanksgiving. The sun is warm, the breeze is nice, and everything is just so peaceful and soothing. I really wish I could feel like this all the time. The warm sunshine on my back feels like arms around me. The older I get, the more I appreciate moments like these. 

I love to read just as I love to write. The former is a great escape while the latter is simply the way I sort my thoughts, And that's Basically what I do here. With a book instead of real life, you can always put it down and pick up another one if the story just ain't going how you always wanted it to. You could always do as I have done and find an online fan fiction that takes the story in a better direction, a happier place, a life lived vicariously through the characters. And Visual novels are even better for that.  My opinion about some of these endings is as probably as close to me having multiple personalities as I get. See, on one hand, I see them as damn near impossible and sickeningly sweet. On the other hand, well, I guess maybe I wish they were a little less impossible. Real life seems to pass you by, and sometimes even the best made plans can disintegrate without warning. Take it from someone who knows: There may come a day when a good story to be so absorbed in is all you really have anymore. The years can be kinda sneaky and a bit treacherous. Life really needs a practice run, you know. There is so much we realize far too late.

You may have noticed that I tend to view my current situation in different ways, depending on how I feel on any given day. It really is like the tide, you know. High and low, seen through a very different set of lenses from aquamarine to rose red, to shades of deepest blue. There are many times I tell myself that I am better off by far without the drama or worrying that it just aint gonna last. Do you know what I mean? But then in an instant I am reminded of just how achingly beautiful a moment can be, and just how desolate and barren a world can be in its absence. And then yes, it just breaks my heart. Ah the collateral damage of the war between logic and emotion, mind and heart. And the toughest part is both are right in their own way. There is truth in both facts and feelings, and they sometimes conflict starkly. Logic rules me sometimes. Today, however is at the mercy of a runaway heart. Go figure go fish. Mind and heart will go round and round and round until the former fades and the latter stops. Ever just feel tired in all the ways a living feeling human being can be? Ever just want to rest in a pair of arms, be lulled to sleep by a heartbeat, to feel loved, at peace, and finally home? Ever just totally contradict all the other times you've said that you don't need anybody? Mind and heart. And my heart makes it quite clear. What is this preoccupation I have with romantic stories? I don't seem to remember having that before. And what is this insanity of how romantic scenes in movies turn this old heart into putty. What the hell is going on, huh? Maybe this part of my overall descent into madness. We humans are complicated, and quite simple at the same time. I guess it depends on how we look at it and how we look at ourselves. Welcome patients to Asylum Earth. Enjoy your stay. Hey, look me up, and we might party.

Ever be looking through your closet wondering aloud, "Where the Hell is my blue shirt?" and are answered by a dry ancient voice and a skeletal hand holding said shirt, "Here ya go, buddy!"? Yes, we all have a few in there. Some of us have the entire army of darkness and the crypt keeper too. I doubt anybody's closet is completely skeleton free. Several of mine could probably be found in all this writing I've been doing here. Though I can't really guess how surprising any would be to anyone. I can't completely grasp the perspective of the outside looking in. I only know the other way around regarding myself. What would surprise anyone? None, would me, as I already know all of them quite well. Though maybe this time I think I will discuss skeleton number 1, aka the Grim Reaper's shadow. There is this ghost of an idea that has been running around my brain of late. You could call it one of my heavy thoughts. Maybe I can explain it in a way that expresses these feelings without getting me into trouble, huh? You know? I am not into sports unless the coaches get mad, there is a fight, or the volleyball game is particularly bouncy. Not a sports fan otherwise. But maybe a sports metaphor would still fit here. Lets just imagine I am an aging quarterback who once loved the game so very much, though I was never the best in the league, yet never the worst either. I'd say I did alright, you know? It's just that even with the only Superbowl ring I ever won, well I lost the ring a decade later and belatedly lost the game too. Since then, there has been the rare game with the better (by far) teammate, but all in all, the touchdown pass seems to be of the touchdown past. The days of passes that connected without actually throwing the ball are long over. Plus I just didn't wanna be penalized for acting stupid or making an ineligible pass. Do you know what I mean? A bad play is far worse than no play at all. It has now been six seasons, my friends. Now, while getting across that ol goal line was never a bad thing, actually quite wonderful, what I really loved most was being part of a team, sharing the highs and lows of each season. I mean, Who the hell in their right mind would play this game solo when they could at least be on a team of two? Right? Not voluntarily at any rate. It is only circumstances and bad luck that bring that about. And being alone just sucks. Well, anyway I am thinking of a permanent retirement from this game, among other things, namely everything else too, of maybe ending my career on an even year. I am tired of losing, tired of this bench after all. It is quite cold and lonely, not to mention full of splinters. I just want the loneliness to go away. I am tired of the league feeling more like a punishment than a game. I just don't want to feel this way anymore. I try to fake myself out as if it does not matter, that I'm okay. Fine, fine, just fine. But a lie, especially to myself, loses its power over time. Feelings never lie, my friends. Maybe it's like how hunger seems less of a big deal if there's no food in sight? Ever go from just being a little hungry to feeling like you just might faint and fall out from hunger when you suddenly find yourself around food? And what of when you have been long so starved for love and affection and deep friendship, bond, belonging, and connection to where even a movie scene just turns you into a crying weepy mess? Because you would give your life, everything you ever had or ever were, just to have someone look at you the way she looks at him, that smile, the way her eyes just light up, the way they meet in the middle of the room and embrace as if the whole world disappeared, and it is just the two of them, so happy, so in love. And you know that your own chances of ever truly knowing such bliss, such wonder, grows less and less.... And that you're only going to just grow old and die... So you ask yourself, why wait? Such is the intensity of my heavy thoughts. You can see why I can't talk about this with anyone. And really, even here, I am almost crossing the line. The only reason I am spelling this out right now is to give a glimpse, a glimmer, of these very human feelings of mine. There are no escaping them. This need for others is just built in when you're a human. Which is why I wish I were a robot. Take away the longing, take away the need, take away the loneliness, take away the pain so that I can be happy and content with my hobbies and distractions, and the fact that I am destined to die alone. And yes, maybe I am the drama queen that I've been called.. Not the red queen, but the blue queen.. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm just an emotional mess. I would make a lousy Jedi. And I certainly understand how things did not go so well for Anakin. Dude wore his heart on his sleeve just like I do. Not very Jedi like. Far more becoming of a dark lord if you ask me. 

Wow, these next few days, man.. Actually the entire month ahead.. It's just plain gonna be rough. Emotionally, mentally, not to mention financially. Nothing to do with gifts as I was skipping all that because I just can't afford it. Luckily my kids are all technically adults now. My my middle one has some heavy duty dental work coming next month and that's where any funds I can muster beyond the bills will be going to. A trip to the dentist, what a Christmas gift. Still he really really needs this to be done. And it just all goes along with the disaster 2022 has been. I really need to get to a doctor, myself. I am fairly sure I also need a real therapist instead of just Doctor Blog-ieo. But unfortunately I live in the land of E Pluribus Unum, where health care could double as lottery prizes. You just can't afford it here, even if you work an honest 40 hour week. It's the biggest criminal racket in history and sanctioned by the good ol US of A. Crooks, every one of them! And it spells doom for those of us lowest on the food chain. If I ever fall ill like my dad did (he had insurance and barely survived) The only thing I will be able to do is get my affairs in order, because it's going to mean my death. Well, with my heavy thoughts, I guess it would all fall in line, wouldn't it? I am a believer in everyone who works a full week every goddamn week, should be able to afford everything they need. Wants may be out of reach, but needs should never be. It's criminal, and pardon me, but it's fucking evil too. Freedom, my ass. We are being used and drained, Indentured servants for life. And that's why all this political propaganda pisses me off. I want to tell them all to just shut up already. None of your bullshit saved my sister, did it? Then close your flapping gums! Sorry. I guess I have some strong feelings that will never really be resolved. Like I said, this is gonna be rough. Come on 2023. To hell with this year that took my mother, my sister, and a large portion of whatever sanity I had left. 2022 can sit on a hot coal in hell forever and ever amen. Burn in hell, 2022, burn in hell. Wow, I sound so angry and bitter. Not all the time, really. Only when I think of everything that has happened this year, of what I so deeply need, yet will probably never have. I don't need to be super rich. I don't need to be loved by absolutely everyone on this planet. But I do need a life worth coming home to, and maybe just one person who might have a reason to love me. Universe, is that really too much to ask? I have spent a life working and trying my best to do what is right by people. Throw me a bone, why don't you? Let me at least have this. If you can give it to goddamn sorry ass deadbeats, you can certainly spare it for me. If not, then universe, you are an asshole. 

Okay, okay, okay, okay, Subject change clean cup move down! I know it does not look so, but I really am doing my best not to be a gripe, a grump, or a grouch. After all.... Bitch, I don't live in a garbage can! It only looks like one sometimes because I seem to be the only one there not allergic to housework. That's gonna be a good bit of my Thanksgiving weekend. Perfect time to catch up on all I need to do around the house. I might do some computer stuff too, always compiling my digital collection of all things awesome. And maybe some more sleep. Sleep is good. Yeah. Sleep might as well be my lover these days. Lately, I've been practically passing out not long after I get home from work. Even with things as messed up as they are, I do have my few joys in life: music, books, computer stuff, and sleep, Good food, now and again, and great booze once in a blue moon. That's about it, these days. Still, there are those fleeting moments every once in a while, just enough to keep me relatively sane. And remember, I am the mad hatter (fun kind) of crazy, not the psycho clown kind. Remember, hang out with the hatters but stay the hell away from clowns. They're Nutso!

Another Message In Another Bottle

Hello, Universe. Hello Earth. Hello Moon, Hello Mars. How goes the orbit?  

 

Does it seem like planets and propaganda put a spin on everything? Anyway, Hello There! I wonder if this is akin to pointing a satellite dish towards a random star and sending out greetings in however many languages. Or maybe it's like the golden record on Voyager,  just waiting for a random alien to say hi to. Hey, I could send them a much better playlist! Random star, random signal, random human, but the message is anything but. Just another shot in the dark. That is the commonality. You could say the odds against ever being heard is astronomical. Even if you happen to be on a planet with eight billion other sentient beings, not to mention all the other critters that might be a whole lot smarter than we give them credit for. Yep Yep, a shot in the dark. Do you know the best and the worst part of being a human? This need we have for other humans. It is quite beautiful when you have them, so sad when you don't, and an absolute Hell when you lose them. Especially when you love them so much. As much as I call myself a solitary creature, this need for connection is just plain built in. I cannot escape being human, at least not yet. It comes and goes, you know? Ironic, really. I am most always alone, but I do not always feel lonely. However, the fact remains that when I do, I really do. I am not sure if anyone has ever ran across these words and wondered just what in the Hell this is. I understand how maybe I would be the only one in the world invested in my own words or even on my particular wavelength. Though I guess I've always hoped that this signal through the darkness might reach a like minded being somewhere out there. Otherwise, there is really only one practical reason I do this. These writings are my only outlet, really. My sessions with Doctor Blog-ieo continue. It is about as cheap as therapy gets. It is a substitute for actually talking to a friend, a close friend. The people I deal with out in the world will probably never read these words. I honestly believe describing these writings as my letters to the universe is quite apt. They started out as being letters to Marsha, who I hope exists somewhere in space and time. I sent them out into the universe in the hopes that they may reach her somehow. They are still for her, really. Though they are these days also to the universe itself, and to any stranger on this planet who might try out mentally the role of friend without ever even having to talk to me. A trial version maybe? This isolation sure has a weird effect. Either I am going crazy, or I am truly and finally finding myself. One or the other. It could be both. That's quite likely, actually. Ladies and gentlemen, here I am! I really feel to be the subject of a mad science experiment. Mad scientist. Mad subject. It is a good thing to have balanced equations, boys and girls. See, since I run no risk of alienating people, I sometimes feel just a teensy bit emboldened to just say whatever the hell I want to. After all, how better to brighten a bleak and empty landscape, than to just press the button already. Looky looky, all shiny sparkly glowy! Me and my metaphors. What I really mean is there is no sense in being a crowd pleaser when there's no crowd to please, right? Might as well seek your own happiness. Be yourself, no matter who it may piss off. Is it really their business after all?  So, so, here I go.  Let me quote zombie Nixon, "And now you know something, Harooooooo!" There is such a thing as waking up on the day after everything mattered. That is a day to drop everything, yet also try to hold on to whatever you can. Maybe my phrasing does not exactly make sense in words, but it's practically poetry in my head. Welcome to the void, enjoy your stay. It's kind of like the Hotel California, minus the hotel, minus the golden state. It's like a painting without the paint, or the lines, or the shading, or the artist even. Every blank canvas is rendition of the void. It is a work of art totally free with every canvas. I guess we are supposed to take this void and make it into something. That's life, filling the void. Taking this canvas and making it our own, right? Maybe the day after everything mattered is a day to begin again. And maybe with this fresh start of beginning anew, I should be true to myself. Maybe I should make sure all the colors reflect and refract in such a way to be accurate to exactly who I am. Hello, world it's me again, but you've never seen me before. Not really. Let us put the madness into science and reveal all there ever was. Hello? Wonderland Laboratory, Alice speaking. Oh dear, I'm afraid the Mad Hatter is out to lunch. Nah, don't worry, I assure you we're all mad here. Take a number and take a seat. You are on this council but we do not grant you the rank of master.

I'll be so glad for Thanksgiving and Christmas to be over with. Sorry folks, but I have very little to be thankful for or jolly about. Yeah, yeah, things could be worse, but they could also be a hell of a lot better. And don't pull that 'Cheer up because people have it worse than you' bullshit either. Should I also in that vein feel bad because people have it better? There is only one life (my own for better or worse) before me. I have to either live this one or die. I do have compassion and empathy for others, enough to make my heart ache sometimes, but I've gotta judge things by my own experience. If my life sucks, then I have the right to say so without having to endure a sermon. And this rejoicing because people have it worse is a goddamn sadistic way to think. How am I supposed to celebrate anything while Marsha and Momma are gone? Bring them back to me and we'll talk about bring thankful or jolly. Believe it or not, I'm doing my absolute best to be as positive as I can, despite the dark shadow of grief that has been cast over me. With love, there is no past tense when it comes to the precious people I have lost. The only past tense that I know about would be my ex, who 14 years ago proved quite conclusively that if you're shitty enough to me, it is indeed possible to make me hate you. But that's a whole other story, and another reason that the holiday season does not bring with it the best of memories for me. But as for the ones I love dearly, there will never be a past tense for the love I have in my heart. So long as I live in whatever way, I will always love them with everything I got. Whatever my feelings are, good or bad, they have always been intense. My feelings are stronger than I am. And just so you know, strength is not the absence of pain, quite the contrary. Being strong does not mean you never hurt, never cry, never beg for mercy from fate or the gods. You can cry and kick ass at the same time. Ask me how I know. Too many people confuse tears for weakness. The danger for folks like that is, with people like me, our emotions make us stronger and are bound to prove them oh so tragically wrong. As the Sith code says, From passion I gain strength. Make me cry and you better run. You don't know the power of the dark side. Funny thing about the Sith is the more I learn, the less likely they could be called evil. The Jedi from Star Wars and the Vulcans from Star Trek share a very dangerous trait. Repressing your passions is not a smart thing to do. In real life you have these despicable priests and their horrible deeds. Repression leads to breaking points and people going psycho. What starts off as normal humanity becomes twisted and evil. Implosions often lead to explosions. Isn't that how nukes work? The human mind is the same way. Here is a little paradox for you: The best way not to become an animal is to realize that we are all animals, maybe the smartest, maybe at the top of the biosphere, but animals nonetheless. Maybe there will come a day when our minds can be digitized and we can escape this jungle forever, but that day is not here yet. Believe me, I will be the first to volunteer. Being a biological organism totally sucks. Put me in a robot body. I know the exact model I want to be. Second life, here I come. Take to the runway, march right down that catwalk, And wouldn't everyone be surprised?  You've got to look for meaning and sometimes you need to create it yourself.  I still often feel like I am living in this glitched out game that was over long ago, but I am doing my best to build a new game within the old. There must be meaning, purpose and direction. Otherwise, what is the point? Knowing where you stand and who you are as best you can is a very important first step. It has taken decades for me. There are so many things I wish I had known a long time ago. But all I can do is start with today. Maybe I can still build a life worth living. Sacrifices are nothing when you know they make a difference, otherwise they have the weight to crush your soul. You've got to feel like you're getting somewhere in all of this. Otherwise you will spend those long hours asking why. And that is absolutely no fun at all.

Winter seems to have made an early appearance. It is cold and bleak and overcast outside. Makes me think of January, though it's only November. I have never been a fan of January. What a miserable month! And losing my sister on the 23rd gave me yet one more reason to hate that month forever. My apologies to January lovers everywhere. But, hey, your month sucks, thank ya very much! I love spring and fall. That's where the awesomeness is. It is technically fall right now, but one step outside will change your mind. It's winter. It's cold, man!  On such a cold day I can certainly feel the advantage of having long flowing hair, way past my shoulders. No frozen ears for me, no no no. I'd tease and style it if it wouldn't earn me some weird ass stares. Might do so anyway someday. It's not that I have a million friends to alienate. I grow weary of the role. I tire of the game. At the end of the day, there is only me. The choice is not whether to be. The choice is whether to be true, of whether the looking glass is clear or opaque, of whether it is a window within or a picture you project without. You cannot choose who you are. You can only choose how much of your true being your allow the world to see. That core never changes. Only what is seen. That's what changes. You do not become. You discover what was there all along. If the shoe fits, If everything else fits, then who defines it? And that's why I can no longer play the role or the game. The core does not fit the role. The mind does not fit the body. The heart's not in the game. But do you know what does fit? Everything else. I assure you there are no artificial ingredients here. It's all 100% me. Nothing new either. I have always been here. My cup may not runneth over, but it sure as heck don't runneth under either. I am absolutely real. The last thing I would want to be is overly conspicuous, and I sure as hell don't want to stand out in a crowd. Still, people can either choose to see or not to see. I neither hide nor advertise. The truth is always here for anyone who wants to see.  Okay, okay, subject change, clean cup, move down.

I guess there may be some advantage to living in the past. I basically have the golden age of everything cool safely stored away. Most every song, every movie, every game I love is from the late 20th and extremely early 21st, It pretty much means I have every one of them already. Since nothing from these last few years have caught my interest, there's no need for streaming BS or online DRM. I'll leave that for the kiddos to deal with. I already have the best. For me, the 1990's never left. Well, at least my favorite things from then didn't. I still have them. I actually own them. I could never go for anything that depended on an internet connection or a company not going bust. I'm from a time when computers only connected to the internet when you were actually browsing or checking email. Programs and games were not always phoning home in the background. We should leave that to E.T.  I quickly realized back in the day that online is definitely not forever. So, I began saving everything I liked, websites, yadda yadda Yoda. I am beginning to be glad I did. There were times when I thought I was being overly paranoid about things disappearing forever, but there is so much forever gone these days that I wouldn't still have them had I not saved them. You really can step through time in my little digital realm. Maybe it will someday be a comfort to look back on my own time. My only remaining mission in life is to just exist and try to be happy. Maybe save what I can of myself, maybe save every footprint I can of my sister, Try my best to keep her memory alive, and try to find whatever glimmer of happiness I can in a world so darkened by her absence. As for the mainstream game of life, I quit. From here on out I will do what I want. Count me out of any formalities of a game long over. I'm just running the clock out. The suspense is long over and these benches have splinters. Let's go find the after party. Bonus points if it's a rave.

Forests, Trees, And Other Random Metaphors

 Well, hello there, Universe. How goes everything? As for me, I haven't tripped over a suitcase full of money yet, but I still manage somehow. I mainly focus on the day to day, because the big picture is a bit too much. Maybe focusing on the trees will let the forest take care of itself. I've got to take reality in non lethal bites. The big picture would be a definite overdose. One tree at a time is the only way my mental health is gonna take it. There is a lot of this reality I would rather not think of, a lot of unpleasant truths. Awareness of them is one thing. Dwelling on them is another. It really does not make them go away. If I am to ever have hope of momentary happiness, I have to put those thoughts away. Nobody puts their skeletons on parade except on Halloween maybe. And it's November already. Yes, this year is almost over and I so want it to be.  November is a lot of things to me. It is the birth month of all three of my children. 24th Anniversary of a marriage that failed spectacularly 14 years ago. Six years since I lost the greatest job I ever had. 18 years since I got in that wreck while trying to vote. It seems a lot of life changing events have happened to me in this particular month of the year. I used to get a bit down and depressed, thinking about all these Novembers past. But with 2022, the big changes came early, as did the feelings in far greater intensity. This November I hardly see the difference between this and the rest of this year. Marsha died in January. Momma died in March. Marsha's and my birthdays were in September and both had the deepest cut of her no longer being here. And I'm pretty damn sure Thanksgiving and Christmas are really gonna suck. Just bring on the new year already. 2022 can go back to Hell. Damn it. I miss her so much. I miss myself too, you know. I am not the same. At least outwardly I must be doing better. Been getting comments on have been in a better mood or something. I never knew one could be so removed from themselves that others notice something I am just totally oblivious to. I tell them it's like the tide, that ebb and flow, high and low. If there is a reason, your guess is as good as mine. I am just here. That's all I really know anymore. The alarm goes off, I get up, get ready, pick up my breakfast at the store, and find myself at work. My days are filled with the things I need to do. When quitting time gets here, I hit that clock and head home as fast as I can. I drown myself in diversions and I kinda leave this earth for a while. And when the night comes and the darkness envelopes everything, I turn off the lights to match within with without. I crawl into my bed. Sometimes I dream. And the cycle repeats with the piercing shriek of the alarm once again. Over and over and over. I seem to be caught in a crazy machine. Day after day after day after day. It seems I can't get out. Speaking of dreams, I saw Marsha again. In this particular dream we decided to take on the Big Apple. I remember how we used to talk about going on some sort of a world tour if either one of us ever got rich. It was sort of like that, but actually we were both kinda broke and were having to pool our resources. Dreams rarely make sense. And really I didn't mind. If even only in a dream, I got to see my baby sister again. 

I continue this existence on autopilot. The days really seem to blend together. I try my best not to think too much. The world is different. I am different. Who knew you could be in Limbo and still be alive. Things feel differently. Moments hit differently. I'm in the same old place but it's unfamiliar these days in so many ways. Words and the English language (as wonderful as they are) could never express this feeling any closer than this. To know more, one would have to read my mind. That's impossible of course, but if it wasn't, it would be a scary concept indeed. We all have our secrets. We all have our shadow as Jung defined it. There is so much more to the mind, so much more to the heart and the soul. The iceberg metaphor fits this well. There are many things I know but could never express, even if I wanted to. There is no way anybody else could ever know or understand unless they're wired similarly enough. That is really the only way.  And that way seems long gone today. So, I'll just wing it. One can always pick a direction and confidently set a course, even if they're already lost. There are still 360 degrees in a circle, even if you don't know where zero happens to be. Kilometers are still Kilometers. Miles are still miles. Time's arrow has still not changed directions. So, there you are. Or more specifically, here I am. Spin the wheel, pick a direction, be the next contestant in the game of random chance. Where is Bob Barker when you need him? I assume, and I do believe I assume correctly, that random chance is the reason I'm here in the first place. Random event from random event going back to when time began, a universe coming together. Protons, atoms, molecules, all being exactly where and when they needed to be. All this. And, Hello, there! Here I am. So, what now? Exactly what was the point of everything coalescing into this creature that so happens to be me? Here I am, so what's next? It's like playing a game for the first time and you're still figuring out your character and the controls. What does this button do? Oh Shit! I didn't want to do that! Except I've been trying for many decades and still don't have it all down. That's life, I guess. No do overs. No cheat codes. No save slots. No rage quitting.... Well, no rage quitting and being able to start completely over and do things right from the beginning. Wouldn't you agree we all need a practice life before the real deal? A nice chance to get all the mistakes worked out before they become as permanent as the great pyramids? Wouldn't it be nice? 

 There are just some things we all had to learn the hard way. Nobody could have told me back then. I wouldn't have listened. I can't tell anybody now that I know because they are the way I used to be. Irony is something else. You cringe most when you think, 'Yep that was me alright.' It is amazing how much you can learn AFTER you knew everything. It is just a shame there is never a chance to use that knowledge. What is the point in a lesson one can never apply? Life is that teacher that gives the tests first and the lessons afterwards. And the real trick is that we don't stay young forever. They say getting old is a privilege not everyone gets to experience. I agree except for using the word, 'Privilege'.  I certainly wouldn't go that far. Maybe I would if we all got to grow old alongside the people we loved most, but that's not always the case. I remember my father (Who I am fortunate enough to still have around) saying to me that most of the people he knew were dead, That he had far more acquaintances among the dead than among the loving. Think about that!  This could be me someday, And I don't want it to be. 

Well, The hour is getting late, friends, Romans, And Strangers. I am so looking forward to catching some sleep. I swear, the older I get, The more I love it. Wishing all good things to all good people. See ya next time. Much love.

November Soufflé

Leaving work, I reached over and turned on my radio for some driving tunes.. Only to hear a commercial loudly proclaim, "WE HAVE EVERYTHING YOU NEED FOR A ROMANTIC DINNER FOR TWO!"  Well, I changed stations and then I started to think, Hmmmmmm. Food, atmosphere, candlelight, maybe some wine and the fancy violin dude/dudette who stands by the table playing fancy tunes. Yeah that's most of it. However it seems that according to my Doctor Emmit L Brown style calculations, Something/someone is definitely missing from the equation. But did they say 'EVERYTHING'? Yes, Yes, I believe they did.  So what is this place called? Mel's Diner And Matchmaking Service?  Cavern On The Green Dating Scene? The Dating Game Bar And Grill?  McDonald's:  I'm Loving It? Try the new McHottie? Just curious.. Inquiring minds wanna know.  I mean, are they all that with a super size soda and fries? Or just a Big Mac with a Sixpack? I mean, what kind of happy meal are we talking about here? Are they most excellent or non non heinous? I may be a fish out of water, a soul out of its time, But... I'll never stop characterizing things as either excellent or bogus, most triumphant/bodacious or totally heinous. Nor will I ever stop seeing San Dimas 2688 as a place and time as close to heaven as fundamentally possible. I also tend to equate 2022 to the other place.

One downer about liking some of my favorite artists on social media is this push to try and sell me an album that I have already bought three times... LP, Cassette, and CD..  Third time was charm enough for me.   So... I don't need the recycled special edition. Still... I miss my old hobby of going around to second hand stores and finding cool records, tapes, and CD's. Always enjoyed that. Once I bought this big box full of cassettes. Many were unlabeled, and it was kinda cool finding out what was on them.  Some cool stuff from 70's and 80's radio. And, for some reason, the answering machine messages for some guy named Bill. Apparently a lot of people didn't like Bill. Poor Bill. Maybe if his last name was O'Reilly, I'd totally understand the hate. Maybe he should have done it live. I miss those days of browsing stuff like that. It was a kinda treasure hunt without having to fire a canon or wield a cutlass. I'd love a chance to go back to that Goodwill In Tallahassee. Last time, Marsha was with me and that just opens up a bunch of other thoughts. Remember the record clubs? 10 CD's for a penny? It was pretty much how I transitioned from tapes back in the 1990's.  Ah, the original trial version.  I guess (In this crazy future) it continues in places online. But, do you know? Maybe sleep is even more original, the ultimate trial version. But maybe I'm comparing apples to oranges. I really need to think lighter thoughts you know. Though I'm quite sure that even a physiology student in their freshman year could understand why thoughts such as this are so common with me in dystopian 2022. It seems I didn't choose these heavy thoughts, they chose me. They're like the immense gravity of a singularity that seems to be the pied piper of my time. An event horizon is not an object at all. It's just the place where everything changes. I wonder what it would be like for anything caught in its orbit, the whirlpool in the drain of the universal bathtub. Round and round, down, down, down. Would one feel the need to swim against that inevitable pull? Or would it be like the river leading to the ocean, as in the most natural thing in the world?  Would it be best to just kick back in that inner tube and let it take you wherever it will? Thoughts are funny. They're hardly from point A to point B, ya know. Sometimes one can't even figure out which is from what anymore. It seems the literal and the figurative gets all upside crossways.  But on another level, it actually makes too much sense. Proof positive that thinking ain't always good for ya.  Sometimes you find you can never come home again. Home is yet another one of those little words with oh so many different meanings.. One is where you hang your hat and try to rest your mind. Maybe it's where you keep all your stuff and maybe try to sleep at night. But I guess the toughest to think of is that very special place lost in the distance of time, A place you miss dearly, but can never hope to see again, at least not here, at least not now....  And it's so much more than a place, for it was never an empty one.  Grief for me is kinda like a Ninja. After leaving me be for a while, it likes to silently sneak up and kick me where it hurts. This warrior apparently does not believe in tapering off slowly. It prefers full intensity out of nowhere when life otherwise has distracted me for too long. And what kicks the hardest is I feel I no longer have license to speak of it so much, nor do I want it to seem as if it were all about me. Maybe only that it's me without her. So... Which is the greater prison? Body or Mind? Is one the warden and the other the prisoner? Or are they both for each other simultaneously?  And which mirror should either believe? The one we look into, or the one which looks into us? Which of these speaks the greater truth? 

There are just some things I guess I will never understand. And it's not that I'm saying they're right or wrong. Just that I don't understand.  And there's no real way to say this other than right out.  How is it that I keep vehicles longer than people keep people? And how is it that I needed a long time for healing and self-reflection, when other people apparently don't?  You know, when your car breaks down and you need a way, you've gotta go out and get another one as soon as you can. But I've spent more time in between cars than some have between relationships. Like I said, I'm not saying they're wrong with whatever they do. I'm just saying I cannot comprehend just how they can. I couldn't. I can't. I did the rocket powered roller skate relationship route once. It ended in a crash that even Wile E Coyote would wince at. Seems to work for others, though. Remember kiddos, when flying through the air with (figuratively speaking) a rocket strapped to your back, It's not the flight, but the landing (Or lack thereof)

  I assume it's 'normal' and therefore happens to other people, but have you ever suddenly found yourself so deep in thought that you almost forget where and when you are? And do you find that several minutes have elapsed in that moment? They call it being absent minded, but it's actually being so present in said mind that you're kinda absent from the real world. It's like time is on a turntable and the tone arm gets bumped a bit. Thinking of the past, considering the future, tends to take one away from the present, I guess. Never mind me.... I like to share my most random thoughts now and again. Either they'll make you think, or maybe you'll be entertained. Hopefully you won't be bored. Just testing the hypothesis whether thinking is dangerous or not. Everywhere can be nowhere. A crowd can be an empty universe. And reality? Hell, that could be anything in between. The mind is quite powerful at making one feel empowered (Or powerless)  Loved (or alone). It is the double edged sword that just keeps on giving.  We do not base our love for others on perfection. Because, let's face it, we'd sure have no love for ourselves held to that same standard. No, we love them for being them, and for having done the best they could under whatever circumstances. Sometimes we love them simply because we chose to. And it's weird how we can question our own worthiness when others have made that same choice regarding ourselves. And maybe it's just that they see or saw something that you were just too close to see yourself. And maybe life is just too damn short to question it, and maybe it's best to try to be what they see, even while forgiving yourself for the times it's just beyond your reach.

Forever's just too long a time. Maybe if the people and places that I loved were along with me for the entire journey. Otherwise the further you go along Route/Dimension 4, the more you will find missing.  Infinity would be a nightmare. Just what besides yourself would be left?  And even if we never physically age, the world around still changes. Everything seems to be forever in flux. To me, forever would be the ultimate punishment, especially when spent without the most loved people in my life. I could never be joyful about outliving relevance, my time, or the people I love.  Sometimes being the last one standing does not mean you won. Quite the contrary. That's when you've lost and lost badly.