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.