Of A.E.B And Snowcapped Television Majesty.

Hello Universe.

How goes everything and just where the hell was I just now? 

Around the galaxy in a foggy haze? 20,000 leagues on the green? Not so peaceful, peaceful Pines? Omicron Persia VIII? Ceti Alpha V? Ah, forget it! We'll do it live!  KHAAAAAN!!!!!!!!  Due to a combination of a lack of sleep and a few heavy thoughts, this week has been a bit on the trippy side. It seems to be as close to the mushroom kingdom as one can get without actually taking any mushrooms. Choop! Choop! Choop! Dudda dudda dudda. Please don't sue me for that sound effect, Nintendo. I know how A.R. those folks can be when it comes to copyright. That's why I keep all my games in an undisclosed location. Now, where was I? Oh yeah. I get off track very easily in this half out state of mine. I am a bit of a zombie today. I had to go in early, and I was up a bit late trying to save what I could of Marsha's Twitter. Big bad Elon decided he's gonna delete inactive accounts. I sometimes scroll through her Twitter because, well, I guess it is a part of my baby sister that is still here. Maybe it's crazy. Maybe I'm crazy. Still, I would hate to lose this digital realm where her presence remains. Just because an account is 'inactive' does not mean it is not important. Leave her alone, Elon. Hopefully, he means something actually accessible when he said he would 'archive' these accounts. If not, I would like a chance to download the whole thing. Nonetheless, to the best of my limited knowledge, I have saved what I can. I know I must seem a bit eccentric, irrational, illogical, yadda yadda Yoda.  I most likely am. I'll sum my feelings up with a fitting quote from Star Trek III:

"My logic is uncertain, where my son is concerned. " -Sarek Of Vulcan.

The same is true with me concerning my baby sister.

 To me, there is no such thing as moving on or getting over. There is only learning how to live in the new reality. There is only discovering this different person that I have become, the person left over when a part of said self was lost when the loss happened. There is only relearning how to find happiness, to be able to smile again, to laugh again, and not feel like a total jerk for doing so. See, feelings do not fade. And if grief is love with nowhere to go, well, it will always be, as I could never stop loving my mother, never stop loving Marsha. If my love never fades, then my grief never will either. I have had to learn to live with it. So, if I seem to regress now and again, please understand I am working on it. Although when you get down to it, understanding and caring are two different things. So, I don't exactly expect everyone to understand. But It sure does my heart good when they try. That, my friend, is caring. And caring means more to me than words could ever say. Just try.  Wrong, Yoda was. Try, there most certainly is, and matter to me, it does.

 <(- _ -)> 

Well, my sleep pattern has gone totally Nutso the Clown.  I had several nights of hardly any sleep, then one heavy crash that seemed like time travel when I realized it was Sunday afternoon. It was like somebody pressed the off button. I powered down like a battle droid. Roger roger! I mean I was totally out. It was mostly deep, dark unconsciousness with the vague memory of dreams. Marsha was there. I can't remember anything else about them, but my baby sister was there. Well, after sleeping past noon on Sunday, it was impossible to fall back asleep until the wee hours of Monday morning. That made me a total zombie at work. Then, insomnia came back again that night with a vengeance. I finally passed out for a solid 8 hours the next night. I feel some better, though the world is still a bit fuzzy wuzzy even today. I have had a lot on my mind. My Dad's health has not exactly been the best, and I worry about seeing the same things happen with him as did with my mother. I honestly wish I had been given the proper nerves and mental strength to deal with all of this. That or an easier life that would match these nerves. This is another reason besides the absurdity of the human body that I do not believe in a grand design. For if there were a grand designer, I'd have some serious words and an even more serious right hook. Why? Because this is bullshit, my friends. But how about I change the subject? Sure, sure. Clean cup move down. I take my tea with extra caffeine, deary.  But don't you trouble your pretty little head, dear. I'll get it. 

Yes, the world is fuzzy wuzzy like a bear, like an old style TV screen on an empty channel. Fuzzy wuzzy television snow. Focusing is a bit of a chore as it's fuzzy wuzzy in my mind today. I feel like I could fall asleep for a hundred years like the whole kingdom in Sleeping Beauty. How magnificently wonderful that would be. Let my long slumber be by an old rock wall in the garden. Let the birds and the gentle breeze be my lullaby. Let the warmth of the sun be my blanket. Take me to infinity. Take me for eternity. I've been waiting, Oblivia. I have been waiting for you for a very long time. Let this messed up world fade into television snow. Hold me, embrace me, show me the love that was always close enough to see, but in any other aspect, has always been a million miles away. What is such a sleep like? I wonder if it feels like falling, flying, or merely fading. Or is it like turning off an old style TV, with all reality reduced to a fading dot at the center of the screen? What is it like, I wonder? She would tell me if she could. Do you see why I don't need to miss so much sleep? My thoughts tend to break free from their moorings. The darkness of the waters they sail are a bit unnerving (even to me), to say the very least. How about another cup? Surely you have time for another spot O tea. Clean cup, move down! You gotta love these mad tea parties. Does anybody want to start a Mad Hatters club? Just a special club for Hatters, March Hares, Mice, Cheshire cats, and Queens in waiting. Bonus if you happen to be an Alice. Think of the fun kind of nuthouse. No psycho clowns allowed. I would say we only allow safe, non-threatening clowns of sound mind and true integrity, but there aren't any, my friends. No Nutso The Clowns permitted past this point. Take your creepy red grins elsewhere. Maybe the storm drains in Derry? Their brand of crazy is scary and no fun at all. 

It's okay, even preferred, to always strive to grow and to improve. However, there are certain brick walls that even the best of us butt heads against, and we're not exactly Mario, are we? Nope. No coins. The only stars are the ones circling our heads. Ow, that's a-painful! See, no human being is perfect at absolutely everything. We all have our strengths and weaknesses. In civilized society, we complement each other, our individual strengths helping others where they're not so strong as they do the same for us in areas where they are strong. Each of us still contributes to the whole. Friends, It is oh so exhausting, so draining to constantly wish you were more than you are. There will always be certain things out of my reach. I change, and I grow, but nothing is going to get rid of my imperfect humanity.  Would you prefer a robot? How about Mr. Data instead? Tasha Yar certainly approves. Or would you prefer Spock or Sarek? You see, I'm afraid that only a mere human being stands before you, a bundle of emotion and nerves. And, if that was not enough to scare you away, I am not exactly logical. Sometimes, I let my heart take the wheel, leading me on a crazy course. The Spock side of my brain's objections have been dutifully noted in the ship's log. Now, we'll ignore them: Warp Nine Engage! I think that's a lot of our problem. We're a bunch of irrational human beings trying to be rational enough to fit in what we believe to be a rational world. Now, if this world is made of human beings, then it's never going to be rational. It is a waste of effort to try to rationalize an irrational world. I guess the object of this messed-up game is to seek happiness in whatever way you can. I see no point in anything else. Life is just too damn short to spend in misery. Speaking of misery, I was watching this news report about how the Surgeon General was saying loneliness was as bad for our health as smoking. Well, I quit one of those, but I am not sure how I am supposed to quit the other. Loneliness is just life, really. I was abandoned nearly 15 years ago by my wife. I lost my baby sister and best friend. Then I lost my mother. All of that happened last year. My kids are about grown and are rarely around. My days consist of work and home, of seeking refuge in a digital realm. How could I not be lonely? Then the big paradox is that I also don't really enjoy being around crowds of people. I am so different that it's kind of hard to relate. I could never be happy not being myself, and it just takes too much energy to fake being someone I'm not. Plus, this social anxiety turns any mole hill into Mt. Everest. I am so thoroughly screwed in the figurative sense that it equates to that of a porn star in the physical sense. This just seems like an unsolvable puzzle. And now they say it's as bad as being on cigarettes? Go figure, Go Fish. Even the facts these days sound like the ravings of a lunatic. If the universe were an ocean, I am adrift upon it. I seem to be going wherever the water and the wind take me. I ask myself if it even matters. I answer myself that it probably doesn't. Not anymore. I should just let the game play out. I get the feeling that there are fewer years ahead than behind me. As I said, I'm just running out the clock, slowly killing time as it slowly kills me. I am so sorry for being so damn bleak. I am sure there are still quite a few moments of happiness ahead, if only for something as simple as a beautiful sunset. My emotions are like the tide, ebb, and flow,  high and low. I can quote Armhold Musclehuggah and say I'll be back. It's just that I'm not here, not yet. I can't hold back this depression any more than I could hold back the tide or the tears. All I can do is hunker down and take shelter, like from any other storm or rain. I have learned that the rain is inevitable. But so is the sunshine. That is the saving grace in a world of not so grand design. Maybe what remains of all this can truly be mine. Still, happiness is one elusive bastard. Sometimes, I equate the search for happiness with the hunt for Bigfoot. And we don't even get a blurry picture to show for it. Oh, by the way, what do you get when you cross a leopard with Bigfoot? I'm not sure, but he'll probably be spotted. Wocka wocka wocka. Clean Cup move down. It's definitely time to talk about something else. I don't know much about shoes or ships or sealing wax, nor do I know much about cabbages and kings. Except, of course, that the UK now officially has a new one of those. Though he looks about as new as I feel, as in not at all. As a descendant of those who overthrew George III, I suppose it shouldn't matter to me, though I always liked the late Queen Elizabeth II. She seemed like a nice lady. Anyone who talks to fuzzy wuzzy teddy bears can't be all that bad.

As you might infer from this crazy text, my thoughts have been anything but clear of late. I feel caught on a crazy ride I had no chance to prepare for. The rocket sled roller-coaster has taken off, and I am half in, half out, hanging on white knuckled for dear life. Just like Buh-buh-Buzz Lightyear, I am not flying but falling with style. Lack of sleep is one hell of a drug. To think people spend their hard earned money to feel the way I already do. It is quite amazingly ironic. I'd give almost anything to feel clear-headed with all faculties intact. There is nothing cool about feeling out of it, detached, and generally not yourself. It is good to know where you are and who you are at all times. It is good to be able to walk and talk and think. Funny, how in the day and age that I realize this most of all, also happens in a day and age where this heavy fatigue has got me feeling as if I were indeed on something. I don't even need to drink at all to wake up feeling hungover. It just comes naturally these days. It is a sure sign of the times how fixated on sleep I have been, as if it were magical and could solve everything. Well, I can't very well dwell on my problems when I'm out cold, can I? It is not a permanent fix, but it sure does the job for a few hours. I could go for a longer term, but it sure didn't help Charlton Heston or Khan Noonien Singh. 

I guess I have said all I could say. At least for now, anyway. If any of this is making sense, then I feel for you. If it doesn't, then you are quite fortunate, and furthermore, I wish I were you. And, in either case, I wish you well.