Freefall Winter

Good morning, Universe 

How goeth the planets and stars, the protons, neutrons, random electrons and such? Tell me, universe: Are there any alternate quantum realities I should know about? As for this reality and I, I appear to be alive, and one gathers that to be a good thing. Despite the days being long, time can be relentless. I spend so much of it simply focusing on getting through the day. It is only when I look up now and again that the gears of the universe have jumped far further than I realized. The gears jump, otherwise spin rapidly, and I find myself here. As the song goes, time keeps on slipping. Welcome to the freakin future. I have the weirdest milestones to go by (besides my age, which is bad enough) to compare with just how much time has elapsed. Let's just call them a few anniversaries of random things. What things? I wrote a song about it, like to hear it go! Talk about singing the blues, huh? My oldest virtual computers are a decade old. My one surviving cassette radio mix tape that lasted long enough to be digitized? 33 years old last June. Ditto for my oldest computer files, mostly WordStar text and GWBASIC programs. Last September, my oldest visual novels turned nine years old. Last October, my IllusionSoft games were downloaded ten years ago. In December, I started archiving my favorite webpages again in 2014, nine years ago. (I also have some even older pages from 2007, 17 years ago) On December 10th, my favorite computer game (Doom) turns 30. And I have been playing that game for almost as long. Thanks to recording demos, I can even watch younger versions of myself playing through the levels. In January (a month that I hate with a passion) Of that terrible year, 2022, I lost Marsha and started this blog for writing about my grief and of losing her two years ago. In February, my oldest M-Disks will be nine years old, and my mother would have turned 75. In March, I will have lost her two years ago. In June, My Star 98 Totally 80s Weekend recordings will turn 18 years old. Time sure can be treacherous. Some of this stuff doesn't seem so long ago, yet here we are. Getting old is one sneaky bastard. My soul feels quite old. I sometimes feel I've run this same gauntlet several times before. Yes, my soul feels old, and so does my body. But my mind is as young as it ever was. The looking glass is a damn liar in more ways than one. I feel totally bored with all the rides in this figurative amusement park. Not only have the rides gotten old, but the people who actually made them worthwhile have been leaving one by one. Yet I'm still here. You can always count on me still being here. It seems to be a constant of the universe, at least for me, that I'm still in it. I guess if it wasn't, I wouldn't be able to observe that fact. Oblivia's realm is outside of space and time. I guess for me to be aware of this universe, I've got to be a part of it. But the rides are getting dull. Pleasant surprises have gotten fewer and farther between, and have long ago fallen by the way as far as I know. And this one roller-coaster I've been on hasn't exactly what I would call fun. There are many levels of tired, and sometimes I think I'm resonating on every harmonic. And if I go and on about this, I'm just going to make myself feel bad. Soooo. How about another clean cup move down subject change? Stuffed shirts: You know I hate 'em, right? I feel about the same way about stuffed shirts as Beetlejuice feels about sandworms. And maybe they all should go to Saturn. Know what I mean? I bet even Lyds would back me up, wouldn't ya, babes? They just walk around looking important, getting astronomically larger paychecks, but doing none of the actual real work. Okay, if you don't hate 'em, I'll loathe them enough for both of us. It's enough to make my head spin. AHHHH! Donchya just hate it when that happens? Greedy freaking cheapskate bastards who have absolutely nothing better to do than to make the working poor even poorer. Nope, I can't say I'm a fan. Dead weight snappers. One of them certainly fits the weight requirement. Imagine if Jabba The Hutt and the Kool-aid man had a baby together, and it's all grown up now. Yep. I guess I can be a bit mean, but I assure you they deserve it. That one in particular is more two-faced than Harvey Dent. And Harvey at least has class and doesn't go around kissing up to superiors while messing with the working folk. In fact, for someone called Two Face, Harv is a fairly straightforward  guy I could definitely have respect for, unlike Kool-aid The Hut over there. After all, respect is earned, not just given. Friends, there are people who make me happy just by walking into the room. Then there are others who piss me off merely by being in the same building. Grrrr. Well, I went from a subject that made me sad to a subject that grinds the old gears. Let's start over again, huh? Clean cup move down? Safe topic? Maybe the weather. Speaking of which, someone's been messing with the outdoor thermostat again. Damn, I didn't expect it to be that cold. Meanwhile, I pulled the "Just five more minutes" prank on myself again this morning. I woke up with exactly 3 minutes to get ready for work if I were going to make it on time. I made it with one minute to spare. I didn't even get all the frost off my windshield until I was mostly down the dirt road. Every time I say I won't take the five more minutes, gamble again, I still do. I've never been late to work because of it, but those laws of averages are waiting in the weeds, You know, mornings would be so much lovelier if they didn't happen so darned early. And again, who's been messing with the outdoor thermostat? You've got that set a bit low, pal. I'm Balz Von Frozemov all over again. I had been holding off on running the heat (but I said to heck with that) at least until the 5th. That's the day when the new billing period starts.The electric bill is ridiculous enough without heat or AC. Late December till mid-February, I'll have no choice. Until then, I want to save whatever money I can, but I'm not going to freeze my butt off over a few dollars. Still, these cut hours and the cost of starting health insurance make it necessary for me to cut a few corners where I can. I try not to think of it too much, as it is one hell of a kickstart to anxiety and depression. Seriously, folks, I'm doing okay today. And while okay is not exactly breaking into a happy song, it is still good enough for me. In this life, you've just got to take what you can get. Wishing for anything beyond that will just make you sad. Keeping in mind that we still stumble across good fortune once in a while is about the only consolation I can think of. I know it's not much, but it's something to hold onto. I hate to be a Grinch, but I'll sure be glad when this whole Christmas season is over. I can be reasonably content, but I can't exactly be jolly these days. Then again, after this will be dreaded January, and I already seriously disliked that month with its gloomy overcast coldness, even before 2022, when it also became the month I lost my baby sister. After that, I grew to more than dislike it. I grew to hate it. No offense to any January fans out there, but I call it Suckuary. It's gloomy, it's cold, it's foreboding, and it took Marsha from me. Sorry folks, but damn January to hell. I miss my sister, the words echoing throughout this void in my heart. I have spoken them a thousand times. I have meant them every waking minute of every day that has passed. And even after all this time, there is a bit of my soul that refuses to believe she is gone. I miss my sister, and these words seem so empty despite the overwhelming feeling behind them. Maybe it is because they can never bring her back, that they can never grant me just one more conversation, grant me just one more day, bring back the person I once was before I knew how much another human being's presence defined me. I am the stunt double without the actress, the wonder without the twin. When I grieve my sister, I also grieve the self that could never be without her definition. January sucks. The fact that it took her from me makes me hate it even more. As I said, damn January to hell. If I could ever have wrath for a calendar page, it is that goddamn month. Let's fast forward both December and January. At least February is my mother's birth-month. She would have turned 75 if she were still here. So let's just skip Christmas and Suckuary so I can celebrate my mother's birthday and laugh about Valentine's Day, that lovely romantic holiday founded on somebody losing their head. Ah, the Romans. You can't beat them when it comes to inspiration. I'm not lion, harr dee harr harr. If I were lion, I would say, "Why hello there. I'm that big lovable lion you've all heard about. Roar. Oh, do settle down, sweetie. I promise I won't bite. Why, I'd certainly have to get to know you better first. Anywho, what do you think of my jungle? Oh, I know, soooo much green. I've been trying to redecorate, but it's oh soooo difficult getting good help out this far."  However, I promise you I'm totally not lion. Anyway, back to my point, I do my best to distract myself away from the heaviest of those heavy thoughts. I just wish all my hobbies and distractions still held the appeal they used to. There were my computer games where I could step outside of myself for a while. There was my computer stuff where I could be Cyber Merlin, with all those mystical powers. I guess it could still be that way if time and technology didn't have this way of having moved forward into the 21st century. So much for my godlike powers anymore. I know absolutely Jack about smartphones. I don't care to, either. There is so much more freedom on the PC, especially the PC of old. Even the internet has become bland and uninspiring, not to mention geared more and more for these damn phones. I miss the old internet. Well, except for the slow speed. It used to be an infinite universe of possibilities, with amateurish but awesomely crafted pages made by people who were in it for just the fun of it. The only limit was picking something to search for. These days, I am kind of hemmed into only a few places to go. There's a couple of places where I get levels for my favorite old games, Doom, Duke, and Wolf. I have also recently discovered that even Lemmings has an online community, and oh, the love-hate relationship I have with that game! Then there is the cool stuff I get from Twitter and Deviant Art. And then there is that one particular social media site that is not so much fun anymore. How out of touch are these supposedly targeted ads? They're trying to sell diamonds to my broke butt. Quick tip: For someone as financially challenged as I am, they need to also include ski masks and burglary tools while they're at it. Kidding! But, I couldn't even afford costume jewelry. No bobbles, bangles, or treasure for me. Nothing on the high seas for me that ain't digital, me hearties. I can't even afaaaard me rum! At least I have pirate speak down. That's me only consolation, mateys. It is 90 percent companies trying to sell you their crap and people trying to sell you their religion. And that's pretty much it. They really need to invent "Church Book" where they can hallelujah and amen all the live long day with like-minded people. Of course, if they did, I'm sure they would copy-paste and keep posting. How they confuse online social gatherings for a goddamn tent revival is beyond me. Besides all that spamming by companies and zealots alike, besides the data farming, the politics, and the obvious manipulation, this whole social media thing is an emotional sinkhole that will drain your mental health if you spend too much time on it. It's not healthy at all. So, all I really have is my game levels, maybe a few visual novels, and a smattering of pictures from DA, Twitter, and Yadda Yoda. Even this has gotten a bit redundant in these past few years. Most of the games and the game levels I acquire have never actually been played by me. That's weird, right? I may pick one or two here and there to set up and play, but the rest just winds up in my digital collection, untouched. Heck, I have more Doom levels than I could play in a lifetime, and I am not exaggerating either. I have been collecting them since the turn of the century. Yet, Im still getting more. To say I have 100 gigabytes of Doom levels would be a pretty close guess. And when you figure that the average file size is a few megabytes or even less, well, that's a lot of real estate in Hell. I really should start charging the devil rent since he seems to not be interested in making me any deals. And all this, all this has gotten a bit old, a bit stale to the point of my wondering whether I am truly still doing this for fun, or if I'm simply trying to distract myself from this life and things I'd rather not think about. It is pointless to a point and with a point, if that makes any sense. It's like the point is something other than one might expect. Really, save for my banking and bill paying, I could probably turn off my internet and start delving through the stuff I already have. It's sad that it just isn't really fun anymore. It used to be my escape, but it's been leading nowhere of late. For someone as introverted as I am, it's a really big deal. I guess I could count the outlet of this blog, my semi- invisible presence on the internet outside of social media. But this is far more self therapy than fun. Faking sanity in real life requires a lot of text, you know. Now, here, my friends, Romans, robots, and strangers, you get my genuine eccentricity, which is a far more eloquent way of saying insanity. Like I always say, if I am indeed insane, then I have earned it. Live this life of mine for a few decades, and you, too, can be as nutty as a fruitcake. Hey, at least those things are good on longevity, right? Though I don't exactly know if that transfers to me. I have made it quite a few years, But I seriously doubt I make it as far as my Grandpa did, though I have several more decades to find out, less so if I don't make it, right? My Grandpa was a one of a kind. Here's a bit of trivia: My first lesson in classical literature came from my Grandpa, although I didn't know it at the time. See, Grandpa very rarely cursed. Still, there'd be times when he'd hit his thumb with the hammer, or maybe a bolt would break, or something else like that, and he'd yell, "Dang it! The Devil and Tom Walker!" And it wasn't until high school that I learned it was the title of a short story by Washington Irving. And, speak of the devil, how about an impossible hypothetical scenario: A supernatural being appears. Poof! And this devil, angel, demon, genie, or whatever offers me immortality, no strings attached, what would my answer be? NO! It has taken me only a few decades to realize I don't want to live forever. That goes double if it would be an eternity living my current life. No way, Jose. At least on the eternal life bit. Now if they want to make me rich, or send me back about 30 years with my current knowledge, or make the looking glass match the soul, or make a certain beautiful woman fall hopelessly in love with me, then well, hey I'm game. I am superbowl sunday, baby. Make it happen. I bet I could do a lot better than Tom Walker ever dreamed of. But, since I don't really believe in anything like that, I guess I won't be going down to the crossroads anytime soon. I do think my hypothetical answers do go far in defining certain aspects of myself. And since this is partly an effort to understand myself better, I'll call it a worthy exercise. This is my mostly unfiltered self here. Mostly. There are still a couple things I wish I could disclose and talk about in depth, but I have not yet found the courage to come out and outright speak of. Let's just say I have one more impossible wish and leave it at that. At least for now. Until then, there is always my offline text. There, I do not mince words at all. It is roughly a three tiered system. I reveal more here than I do on social media and in real life, but not as much as I do in my personal text files. That may change in the future if I ever get the nerve. Meanwhile, you get a lot more of the real me here than you'd get anywhere else. There's a lot of me here. There really is. In almost two years, I have poured out a lot of my soul. Honestly, at this point, I can't really remember what I have and haven't said. Nearly two years and almost a megabyte of ASCII text would be a lot to sift through. Yes, there is a lot of me here, Perhaps more of myself than is even in my head. I have spent this time and text sorting through my feelings, and  they're darned complicated, man. This has been a firsthand account of working through grief and loss, of dealing with anxiety, depression, and a whole laundry list of things going on in my head. It has also been about dealing with stress both at work and at home. It has been about this crazy pendulum swing with being perfectly fine with my perpetual singledom or going crazy with loneliness. This has been about the struggle to know and be myself, all while fitting the mold that living in bible belt USA constrains and confines me to. This has been about my effort to keep above the waves of my darker thoughts. This has been about far more than I could ever name. It may be one hell of a jumbled mess of words, but a good bit of my soul is here. And I feel there is so much more that needs to be shared, so much more that needs to be said. Heart and soul, man, heart, and soul. Maybe nobody will ever see these words. If so, they still will have served the purpose for which I have written them. Far better for this heart of mine would be for them to find a kindred spirit, a decade, a century, or even a millennium from now. Now that my friends is yet another one of my many daydreams. Either way, I doubt if I will know if it ever happens. If not, I would hope that these letters find their way to you, Sis, one with the universe, of the universe, and to the universe. These have always been my letters to you. I miss our talks. I miss there being someone who understands. When it all gets down to the universal truth, I miss you. And with that, I'll again quote Gump by saying that's all I've got to say about that. Equally along those lines, I'm pretty tired. I think I'll go home now. 

The Bigfoot Paradox

This universe and Bigfoot probably have a lot in common. Both are big. Both can be a bit scary. Both can be a bit lonely. Neither are very well understood. You know? People talk and talk about their circles, but how about ellipses, orbits? Because, really that's the truth of human interaction. See, while I can't reasonably expect to be the center of anyone's universe, maybe I can at least hope to be somewhere in their orbit. See orbits can be as elliptical as you want them to be, and the beauty of this is that even if they sometimes separate us by vast distances, they always come back around again, and even a moment of closeness and light is better than drifting between the stars with no light in sight. At the same time? Everybody has the space to be who they want to be. See? As big as this universe is, one would think we could each and every one, have our own little corner where everything makes sense. And what goes for me does not absolutely positively have to be what goes for you. See, since I am kinda old, let me tell you a story about the olden days. Once upon a time in an enchanted land of cookies, elves and magic, people could have different opinions and beliefs, yet still be close friends. Now I can hear folks asking, How were they able to pick a bubble to belong to? Well, you see, lads and lasses, back in my day, the only bubbles were Mr. Bubble for the bathtub, and the ones in those bottles you could send sailing into the breeze while watching the sunlight glint off them until they go 'pop!'. It was actually good clean fun. But that was long ago. So many things have changed. But not everything. None of this chaos is new. This world may be going insane, but it's not in the way a lot of folks think it is. There is nothing new under the sun. There is nothing new in the shadows, either. It has always been there. They have always been there. We have always been there. The only difference between now and then is what you can see. While I am sure there have been some genuine monsters under beds and in closets, There were also cases where it was the humans hiding in the shadows, under beds, and in closets from the real monsters outside. And these monsters didn't even realize they were monsters. Point of view is everything, and there is nothing quite as frightening as to be called out as a human being, to have your refuge ripped from you, to have your vulnerability exposed to the world, surrounded by monsters who think they are human. That was the insanity of the past. And depending on where you were in time, the crime of not thinking or being like all the others could indeed be severe. Yes, Yes, this world may be going to hell in a hand basket, but it's pretty much been at the very gates since the beginning of time. Do you know what my definition of good is? It is treating all of our fellow creatures with kindness. It is never wanting to inflict pain upon any living being that can feel it. It is about having compassion. It is about trying to find understanding when you can, and leaving in peace all that does no harm.  So what is evil? Evil is the closed minded belief that everybody should fit your world, your mold, and the role you want them to play, and (If they refuse) charging in with your righteous army because God wills it. After all, everything should be THIS way, and we are all commanded to never suffer witches or monsters to live. It is ironic to see those who comment on a situation they know absolutely nothing about, accusing others of 'pretending' while they're the ones with the imaginary friend. Irony is ironic when it doesn't even occur to the one being ironic. Geesh! Okay: Here is the deal: I won't ridicule your religion if you quit ridiculing your fellow human beings for trying to be themselves. Otherwise, let the laugh in begin! Happy Light Day, folks. No, there is nothing new under the sun. There's just been a lot of human beings in hiding. Could you really blame them? Yes, This universe and Bigfoot definitely have a lot in common. Both are big. Both can be a bit scary. Both can be a bit lonely. Neither are very well understood. This is true for me and a lot of other human beings as well. Clean cup, move down?

I have a favorite wallpaper, An image of deep space known as the Hubble Deep Field. I use it as the background of all of my homegrown HTML. Almost every point of light in that image is not a single star, but whole galaxies, Billions of light years away. Before I even talk about the distances, there is the thought that many of those galaxies are just as big as this one, containing countless stars, probably innumerable planets... What would the law of averages tell you about the possibilities of life? Even so, so far away that we could never possibly know about it. But besides all of that. Do you know what I think about the most when I look at that image? I think about that photon leaving that galaxy so long ago, traversing across the vastness.. Billions of years. However, it is my understanding that time does not move for that photon. At the speed of light, The universe has the pause button pressed, so to speak. I mean I am not a scientist. I drive a forklift for a living. Still, science has always been a hobby. I do not really claim to know anything, as I am just basing things on what I've read. And, from that I get this picture of that little photon... Well Is light a particle or a wave? I guess by observing we collapse the wave and get the particle... Aka the photon.. In a pure instantaneous journey, many normal lives have come and gone. Species and empires have risen and fallen. Stars were born and stars have exploded. Yet from that point of light, not even a split second had passed until it slammed into that lens or whatever. Then kaboom... Billions of years. Now that was not the last photon to leave that galaxy.. I would guess there has been a steady stream of them since that particular star in that particular galaxy was born. There are many on the way.. And for them everything was nothing at all... Countless points of light that will certainly find me long gone, probably long forgotten too. Maybe some of them will never strike any objects and continue onward for darned near forever... Stretched by space, red shifting more and more, Frequencies lowering to infrared and then microwaves.. Still going... For so long that even all of eternity was nothing at all.  Nothing at all. These are the thoughts I sometimes have... And yeah, maybe my thought process is weird. Maybe? Come on! Let's be honest here.  It certainly is weird because, hey! So am I. I know I have said this before, But since the closest star is 4 light years away, All starlight I see is from a time when my baby sister was still alive. All the stars therefore shine in her name, and will so for at least 2 years more. And it is comforting in a strange sort of way... All of this (Even death) is nothing from a certain point of view. And I haven't even gotten into what I have read about the effect of motion on time. On how now is yesterday from a certain point of view, on how now is far into the future from another point of view. And... If you flip the dimensions just right, now is forever and ever. (Or never ever). Cut across the universe a certain way, and she is eternal. Of course all of this is theory that we normal human beings can never really experience for ourselves, at least in this life.. Maybe none of this matters. But I'll say that when the day to day continues to be on the soul crushing edge of the spectrum, It can be a comfort... That one can, at least in a mental realm, consider the many examples where none of this matters at all. It is a bit like stepping out of time without being able to step out of time.

Time and change. Isn't that what living long enough is all about? Distance can be measured in both space and time. I think I have moved much farther in time than I have in space. For example, I live less than a quarter mile from where I grew up, But that place is surely a long distance away in time.  If that's not enough, then so is the person I once was. Long gone, faded into that distance. We are not the same. I am truly someone else. Not a good person turning "Evil" or anything like that. Although several of my core beliefs of the past have done a complete 180, reversed, And maybe I've learned to let go of a few concepts that I nowadays see as flawed, misguided, and totally wrong. Well, I guess Chancellor Palpatine did say good is a point of view. So, maybe judging by those standards, past me, blind me, ignorant me, might consider me to be. More likely, looking back, remembering that tired old thought process I used to have, I would probably see someone like my current self as being silly or crazy. Funny thing about silly and crazy. It's not so silly and not so crazy when it becomes you and you find yourself standing in a place where you never thought you'd be.  That age old question "How the Hell did I get here?" rarely bodes well.  Though I guess mentally would be better than physically. Fortunately with me it is the former.  But the thing is that an open mind is a mind in motion.  If you don't hold fast to what can be disproved by experience, If you allow the possibility for change, Then it is inevitable. Sometimes small changes. Sometimes epic and major. It's gonna move. Maybe a little. Maybe a lot.  The pursuit of knowledge is a series of discoveries, one leading to another, to another and yet another..  You start out in this limited dimension - Limited by preconceptions, and not only your own but from those of others. As you discover the world around and as you discover yourself, barriers and blinds fall away. Realizations are kind of like dominoes: One can remove the barriers to more. The blinders fall and you begin to see. Step by step by step, You get to know the world without and the soul within. This has nothing to do with religion or the lack thereof. Soul means the true self, the one you come to know over time.   For me, it all started with a simple one dimensional truth. That was the core. With time and understanding, layers were added and the number of aspects grew. What began as a simple feeling became truth.  Believe me when I say there is nothing else that it could be. This wasn't something that just happened overnight. It took many of those realizations and baby steps to get to where I am right now. It is not every day one reaches an epiphany that challenges their very core of being.  What was I to do? It was my idea at the time to either prove or disprove this truth that became so obvious. So I began to test that truth by going back over certain events of my life, Certain aspects of my self and soul.  Instead of disproving that truth, each journey has lead to discovery, of different points of view of different harmonics that resonate in the same way, it's like going through all these equations and coming up with the exact same answer. Not just most of the time, but all of them.  Can you even imagine? Every single time!  If there was a small part of me that wanted to prove them wrong, then I have failed. However, I have never known failure to bring such levels of joy to my heart. Such joy, such hope, such longing, Yet also fear and dread... For any way forward I might to decide to take. With option one, as in the status quo, I know I could never be happy. I feel like I am following a script that somebody else wrote. It was one thing back when I was ignorant of the truth. After all, I knew something was simply not jiving, but did not know exactly what or why.  Funny how I look back now and I see the many obvious clues that were all around me. But anyway, since that epiphany I had in the spring of 2019, Ignorance has not been an option. You see, knowledge is far more than power. Knowledge mixed with inaction can be a trap, a prison, a total HELL, because it means you must actually do something about it.  And so... in what lead to this bit of status quo, I took a lot of small steps. Minor things, maybe a moderate one or two depending on point of view. Sure, I could continue to present that same old false image to the world and the people around me. But to tell the same lie to myself? I couldn't do that anymore. So I have done my best to at least be true to myself, and maybe just maybe, project a bit of that truth outward, even if it was so subtle that few would ever get what it is or (for that matter) what I am about. But the problem is that the more time passes, the less patience and tolerance for that subtlety I have. So what was once subtle has become less and less so. It is a wonder it's not so obvious as a neon sign above me by now. Who knows? Maybe it actually is. It's like the sun rising. We do not go from night to day in a single second. The light increases gradually and you just look around and suddenly realize it's daytime. Still, I could be a heck of a lot more obvious.  Small steps were good at first. These days, they're not enough. Therein lies my problem. Maybe skydiving would be a good metaphor. I am standing at the door of that perfectly good airplane. I am miserable on that plane. I know I'd be much happier if I were free of it. But I am scared to death to take that one step that I can't walk back. Once out can't I get back on that aircraft.  What's more is that even when the chute opens and I slowly drift down, people will be able to look up and see, that yes it is me.  And as they say, minds and parachutes work much better when open. And even if the latter does what it is supposed to, what about the former?  In other words this is one Hell of a big step. And both options of taking it or not taking it scare me for different reasons. Inaction when you know is a hell of its own. The uncertainty of maybe making the biggest splash of your life? Serenity, peace, and maybe a moment in time. I don't think it is too much to ask or any less than what I deserve. The alarm goes off and I drag myself out of my warm and comfortable bed. I get up, I get ready, and I go. I do most of the things I am expected to do. I play the role that life has given me, Even when I am not exactly comfortable or happy with it. This doesn't matter if the end of each day might could make up for it. All I am asking is just a little bit of time to be at peace, to be myself, in the sanctuary that is my home. Nobody has to understand. I'll jump through all these crazy hoops the world requires of me. I'll face the day, Even though it is so hard to do sometimes. Just make that beautiful sunset at the end of the day be my beacon, my joy, my chance to be who I know I am. I am not out to make any purposeful splash, rock the boat, upset the apple cart, or whatever. I am not out to butt in, change anyone's mind, or force my core beliefs on anyone else. I only ask that I be left in that same sort of peace.

A Scattering Of Reasons

Hello, Universe,

It's me again, yours truly. Here, it is almost the end of 2023 already. It's hard to believe so much time has passed, yet the heavy reminders of 2022 persist. Life is short, you know. Moments lost are moments that we'll never get back again. If you love someone, please tell them, even if you already know that they already know. Sometimes, it does the heart good to hear it anyway. Human beings are messes. I know because I am one of them, quite an outstanding example of being a mess, if I do say so myself. Perfection never needs forgiveness and would be so much easier to love. We humans, especially those who are trying? Well, it's not so easy, but it is well worthwhile. Anyway, how goes everything? Me, I'm out of it, under the weather, and dreading yet another holiday without my mother, without my baby sister. It's within a couple of months of having been two years, and I still find myself in no mood to be festive. This disconnect seems to continue, that old feeling of going through the motions. I feel like a soul glitched out of time. Speaking of stepping out of time, I got insulted by mail yesterday. It was a plain envelope with only my name and address. What was inside? Junk mail for hearing aids! You know? AARP junk mail was bad enough. What's next? A brochure for Restful Pines? Maybe a pamphlet for headstones? I need no extra reminders I'm getting older. But I ain't THAT old, and I'm not dead yet. And believe you me, I ain't going quietly. I'll be fighting like Rocky "Rambo" Balboa every step of the way. "Hey yo, Reaper, I'm your worst nightmare!" Besides, I've got beef with that boneheaded affront to fashion for taking my loved ones. Ding ding ding, let's get ready to rumble! However, I will admit I am old enough to be a fish out of water in so many ways. Most of my pop culture references are from the 20th century. I am a cyber Merlin with old computers and quite dumb with smartphones. I don't exactly fit in well with the present day. Indeed, I am a relic living in the past. Therefore, I call this the future. For me, the present is somewhere around 1997. And what a disappointment the future is. No flying cars. No cool robots, only the lame ones destroying the chances of meeting real humans online and the spamenators that call your phone. Welcome to the world of tomorrow! Welcome to the future, human sukahs! Science Damn it! I'm so sick of the freaking future! (I love that Southpark episode) Give me the late 1980s or early 1990s over this 2020s bullshit any day. I bet none of these young folks even know how to play the check game, when you could write a check 2 or even 3 days before payday depending on the place, so long as you had the money there before that check cleared your bank. Nowadays, it hits the bank before you can even leave the store. I was damned good at it. I never had a single check bounce from playing the check game. Though I sure as hell don't dare it in 2023. I guess I don't miss having to go by the bank every payday to deposit a paper paycheck, but there was always the night deposit. I rarely write checks these days either, just one a month to the bug man. Everything else is done online. The old check game really worked well when paying bills, with both the postal service and the banking system creating a nice buffer zone. I guess there have been changes, both good and bad. I want the internet from the 1990s and early 2000s but with the speed of today. I want the wisdom but not the age. I want automatic deposit and the easy online way to pay bills, but with that nice delay for the check game. I want the lessons I've learned without the price I've paid. I want the wisdom and maturity I have now without the guilt of knowing I wasn't always that way. I want my youth without the stupidity that went along with it. And most importantly? I want my loved ones back. Finally, I want to actually feel healthy for once. I honestly want to believe that life is its own reward. But a morning after three nights of broken sleep because you're apparently getting sick (again) makes such a notion ridiculous. Well, at least it's not the same thing as I had last month. But damn it, I can't say I'm deriving very much pleasure from being alive at this very moment in time. Life sucks enough without all this added bull. One of the many proofs of the glorious grand design being total bullshit is when we get sick. This divinely designed human body sure responds quite stupidly. Hey, I need a lot of rest to fight this crud. I know! I'll close off an airway so I can't breathe worth a shit and therefore can't sleep. What a load, man! Then, there are viruses that only exist for causing misery. Was this on purpose? If so, what an evil thing to do! Was it on accident? If so, he's not so great, is he? George Carlin was right. This has got to be the biggest scam ever! Random chance be praised. I can't even get the one eight hour escape from reality that I'm supposedly allowed. And even if I were feeling all rested and healthy, I'd probably be going on and on about how lonely I am. And yes, you're absolutely right. That's not the way I should be thinking. I guess the human soul, or maybe this particular human soul, will always find a reason to be unhappy. I want to break free from this mindset. I am open-minded enough to realize that some of this is due to my own nature. And I certainly don't want to be like my ex. I swear, you could drop her in the middle of paradise, every want and need at her fingertips, and she'd still find fault with it. I don't want to be like that. So, I try asking myself exactly what it would take for me to be happy. Just what do I want? So, in these next words, I will try to answer myself, Despite not always knowing exactly what that is. I don't need to be super rich, or even to the point of not having to work at all, as we've all got to fill our days with something. But I would like to have enough to cover all my needs and maybe a few wants too. I don't need a fancy mansion resembling a castle, moat, drawbridge, and all. But I wish I lived in a house where everything worked and nothing was falling apart, and maybe a bit more remote. I don't need to be loved and admired by the entire world. I just want somebody to come home to, someone to be close to, someone to give all my love to, a very special friend, so to speak, a warmth and a heartbeat to be my lullaby. I am not asking for the moon and stars. The moon is a dusty, airless void. Starlight, however beautiful, is too faint and far to warm my soul. I am not asking for the moon and stars. I am asking for so much more. Of course, wishing without a genie does not get us too far, does it? Wishing for that one in eight billion who would dream of this just like I do seems just as futile. How can a world becoming more and more overcrowded each day be so damned lonely at the same time? It is highly illogical, as Spock would say. It makes absolutely no sense at all. Such is the human condition and the mess that I am. And for additional confusion, there is also the fact of the many days when being alone isn't so bad. It is not the loneliest thing in the world. It is far more lonely to be in a bad relationship than to actually be alone. I know this because I was there once. When the one person you've forsaken all others for, the one person from whom you are allowed seek love, belonging, refuge, becomes, cold, distant, even cruel, there is absolutely nothing worse than that. There is no shelter when you've been left out in the cold like that. Still, I dream of what it could be with the right one. An equal partnership with mutual respect, truly wanting happiness for the other, giving, taking, loving, to hold and be held, to each be what the other needs, those moments beyond words, that heartbeat lullaby. But, even without that, there are other areas my life could improve that would keep me fairly content most of the time. Just having my basic needs covered a bit better would certainly go far towards that end. Why must the human experience be so crappy for some of us? Right about here is where someone might point out that people have and have had it way worse than me. Is this supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn't. Of course, my heart goes out to anyone in a bad situation. Still, there is something very flawed about comparing one's life to others, better off or worse off. I have a self-help audiobook that, instead of offering any practical advice, goes on and on about this poor soul that got sent to a very bad place by a certain evil World War II regime. I honestly feel bad for everyone who has suffered at the hands of evil, but am I supposed to jump up and down singing a happy song because I'm not in that dire situation? This makes absolutely zero sense to me. Besides, wouldn't it be immoral to derive happiness from the fact other human beings were doomed to a hell on earth by those evil uniformed demons who walked the earth, those poor men, women, and children? Wouldn't that be wrong? I say yes. And for another example from history, there was a time when unless you were a king or a queen, a lord or a lady, a duke or a duchess, a baron or a baroness, well... Being alive just plain sucked. Serfdom was a miserable existence. Slavery was even worse. There are people all throughout history, and even at this very moment experiencing horrors that I can't even imagine. There are billions of human beings who've lived or are now living a far worse life than mine. I get it. But should I be rejoicing? No! They all deserve / deserved better. No human being should ever be treated that way. And yes, I know I'm lucky in some ways. Even if it's falling apart and I can't afford the repairs, I do have a place to live. Still, I'm not exactly living high on the hill, myself. My wages are literally below the poverty level. And yes, I looked that up. This inflation of these past few years has made it worse, and it seems my pay is the only thing not going up in price. I work for a place that takes all it can from me and gives as little as possible in return. A living wage? You can forget such a thing in my part of the US of A. And yes, maybe I should be looking for something else. Still, it is close to home, familiar, and not really a bad job in itself. Anxiety is a hell of a thing, you know. It is far more hellish when you can't afford to treat it. Despite all my internal problems, I remain a functional gear in the machinery of society. Though I think I could do far better with a little help. I'm pretty sure I'm not insane per se. But, I'm not exactly normal either. It is not normal to be terrified of driving in unfamiliar areas or in high traffic. It is not normal to be afraid of new people and new situations. It is not normal to place so many limits on myself just because panic attacks suck. It is not normal to continuously worry that bad things are going to happen for fear of not being able to deal with them. The only reason I bring all of this up is to show why I have stayed where I am for so long. If I could throw this anxiety off, I would, for a freedom I have longed for all my life. I would run to that freedom like an escaped prisoner. I would, in fact, rejoice. But, as it is, I just do my best to remain functional enough to do right by my kids, to do right for my family. Yes, I know my life is not the worst life ever lived. Yes, I know I should be grateful for what I have. But I also have the right to feel the way I do. The suffering of other human beings brings no joy to me, and neither does it better my situation. And what if we reverse this situation? Should I be angry that people who have it better than me? Not all of them, anyway. Now, the cheapskate executives, shareholders, and CEOs are pocketing some of the living wage that should be going to my coworkers and myself? Damned right, I'm angry! Ditto for the crooks that sell a 50-cent bandaid for 10 dollars, a three dollar pill for 500 dollars, or charge 19,000 dollars for a two day stay in a hospital involving no surgery. To hell with those bastards! And anyone, anyone who profits more from the working poor than the workers themselves do can all go to hell too, just as everyone who benefits through the exploitation of others. But is this true of everyone? Of course not. I could never hate anyone simply because they have things better than me. Maybe I am a bit jealous sometimes of those who have meaningful relationships and don't have to worry so much about paying the bills. But, I am still happy for them. Their happiness does not add to my misery, just as the misery of those less fortunate adds nothing to my happiness. And I want us all to win. Comparing one's life to others never leads anywhere good. That's the thing about social media these days. And so much of what one sees there is an illusion. I have seen the most lovey-dovey couples with the most cringy posts, split in a most spectacular manner that would even make Uranium jealous. And it turns out they were cheating on each other with multiple partners all the while. So much for the prince and the princess, huh? They're going to need Maury (and probably a doctor, too) to do some testing. And I don't mean science class either. And while it is very tempting to laugh at these fools (Muhahahaha!), that is not the point I'm trying to make. Comparing yourself to an illusion is a path to the dark side, not to mention a very dark place, too. Don't go there. It is nowhere you want to be. This is a note to myself just as much as it is to anybody else. It is far too easy to fall in that trap. It is something I have to be mindful of myself. Social media is the worst. It boosts their profit to pull more and more people in. They are the Venus flytrap, they are the pitcher plant, they are the figurative spider on the literal web. And while I can never close my accounts as that would sever my connections to my dear sister's and my dear mother's accounts, there have been many times I have stayed away when I find my mental health to be flagging. Guess where I go? Right here! Well, not always. In either case, it seems I most always feel better after a week or so. Social media is mental poison as far as I am concerned, keeping up with the Jones' brought to a new digital age. Comparison is never worth it, especially when you can't be sure it's even real. Nobody is as rich, as happy, or as in love as they appear to be. I have been out of the loop for a long time, but I think I'd be expressing all of my love and affection to the one person I hold such feelings for. It would be for them and only for them. Some things are really none of social media's business. I, and my feelings would belong to them, not to the world. And how wonderful would that be? Wonderfully wonderful. I admit, I put a lot of myself out there in these words here, but that's a bit different. How or why may be up for debate, but the short answer is a question: Where else can the real me exist? Not on social media, and nowhere else that I can think of either. I vent here so I can be 'normal' elsewhere. I am myself here so I can fit the mold and the role elsewhere. If Shakespeare said all the world's a stage, then this is backstage and behind the curtain. Here you have the person, while the rest of the world gets the persona. You, dear universe, and you, dear reader, my friends, my Romans, robots, and strangers are privy to a lot of things that nobody in my real world knows. It is sort of our little secret. It's like fight club, but we're not fighting. Let's be friends! Cool? Cool. Friendship is a wonderful thing. Do you remember when you could be friends with people with different religious and political beliefs? Prepperidge Farms remembers, and so do I. Nowadays, few are courageous enough to venture out of their bubbles. It's sad, too, as with being economically conservative and socially liberal, I have no bubble to call home. I'd piss off both ends of the spectrum. And... From all the religious posts I'm bombarded with on social media proves I'm in the minority in that area, too. I am a live and let live sort of soul, with 'to each their own' being my motto. So long as they're not hurting anyone or butting in the business of others, more power to them. Don't preach to me, and I won't preach to you. But know the only preacher that makes any sense to me is the Reverend Dan Barker. Look him up, and you'll know why. Logic and reason will get a hallelujah from me every time. I sometimes wonder if we could all live in peace if religion and politics did not exist. Maybe more of us, but I doubt all of us. So long as space and resources are limited, there will be conflict somewhere. It will probably be that way for a long time. I would hope we would someday find more places out in the universe to call home. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we all could live in many lands of plenty? Maybe we will manage it before we destroy ourselves in the many ways we could. Either way, I'll be long gone by then. I wonder if I'll be remembered if even in a small way. Actually, I would much rather she be remembered than me. This is one of the reasons I am so overprotective of my digital collection because it includes her files, too. And if you remember my sister, you are remembering me. I want someday for her countenance, her words, and her voice to be stored in the onboard computer on a spaceship heading to Proxima Centauri and to points in every conceivable direction, Make it so, Warp 9, Engage. 

May all the cosmos remember her name.

Dreams And Delusions

Hello Universe. Have you got a minute or three? 

I feel I just may have a bit to say. It is not unusual that I've had a lot of things on my mind. I've been thinking some heavy thoughts. None of this isn't normal for me, but of course I am not exactly normal, myself. I never was. Maybe Turanga Leela said it best: Okay, okay I'm crazy, but I'm still sane enough to know it. With me it's the same old two on one, no holds barred, steel cage challenge, The heavyweight tag team champions of the world, anxiety and depression vs me, the undiagnosed ghost with the most. "Donchya just hate it when that happens?" It seems I've got a million things I can't do anything about. The financial stress of damn near everything from food to gasoline getting less and less affordable, no raise in a very long time, and my hours being cut, man I swear it's like they're tightening the vise. I know my kids are grown, But I still wish I could help them more. It's mainly different medical stuff they need, and as if medical bills weren't astronomical before, you know they're gonna be way worse now. And there's just no way. I'm barely keeping the lights on, and food in the fridge, not to mention a way of getting my butt back and forth to work. It has been all I can do of late just to be barely making it. So there's that part: Finances. As for another, it's the stress of things around me falling apart both figuratively and literally, and simply not having the money or the know how to fix it. And this is just some of the external stuff. And ironically, I guess it is far more an internal thing than anything else, Anxiety and depression kicking my ass in the ring, not to mention a few other things of a similar nature. Some I have spoken of, Some I have not. Sometimes I wonder if it would be healthier for me to just shout everything from the rooftops. It would certainly make me feel better for a minute or two, until Mr Anxiety would remind me of all the fallout and the consequences. More on that later. Facing up to reality and the things I have to do is something I must constantly make myself do. I have this tendency to retreat into my mind when it all gets to be too much. That only compounds the problem. The best strategy is to face everything head on, to charge in like a warrior. Still, a strategic retreat at least a couple times a day is something I honestly need. Sleep is a good escape, too. It's strange how all these things infiltrate my dreams. Whatever symbology there is is lost in the haze. Too bad, Doctor blog-ieo doesn't analyze dreams, huh? Freud, he is not. As I have no doubt said somewhere before, I have the craziest dreams. My latest greatest had me working at a desk like my old job, but with my current boss. My currently cut hours, too. I was supposed to forward an email to said boss before I left that day, but my computer got in this strange foreign language mode and kept belting out phrases in several languages, except for English, of course. It was starting to get late and dark, and apparently, my office building moonlights as a restaurant after dark. So I am trying to figure out my computer problems amid a loud and rowdy crowd of customers. Apparently, I can not operate technology in my dreams. It's like I'm another person. I have also recently had the "Didn't finish school and have to go back" dream. In real life, I graduated, but apparently not in dreamland. In my dream, I had to redo my junior and senior years of high school. What the hell? Then there is the "Unknowingly joined the military" dream where I'm suddenly supposed to show up for boot camp I can't remember signing up for. No, I'm way too old and not exactly the military type. Looking and acting like everyone else has to be my worst nightmare. Then I had this one dream I was still living with my parents, cleaning up the house for when they came home. It ended when I saw the headlights of that old Ford Ranger pulling into the driveway. Real life? I've been moved out for almost 30 years now, and my father is all I have left. Like I said, I have the craziest dreams. I have carried on whole conversations with my sister. I have been pestered by my mother saying I haven't been getting enough food, insisting that I take the food from her plate, with me arguing back that I'm alright and would pick up something on my way home. It really is a strange world that I fall asleep to, where anything is possible, but everything is scrambled like a fun house mirror. My subconscious could be a Hollywood writer. Oh well, enough of dreams. How about reality? Well, in the waking world, there is this phenomenon known as the daydream. Facing up to reality requires me keeping my head out of the clouds and not live in my head so much. Old habits are hard to break. This has been me all my life. I used to get in trouble in the first grade for spacing out so much. I just didn't find the reality they were preparing me for to be all that appealing. I still don't, to tell you the truth, aside from some wonderful moments long lost to time, also requiring me to space out to truly remember. Despite all else, I remember when I was young and life was new, when it seemed I had an ocean of possibility in front of me. What do I really have now? A run-down house and a bit of land. A job that is very iffy on longevity. Three grown-up kids. My father and the one sister I have left. I have my digital stuff that I hope lives far longer than me. There is no real chance of me stumbling over a romantic relationship despite a particular lady haunting my daydreams these days. She's like a dream I almost remember, a memory that never occurred, a vision that words could never describe. Well, maybe the ones so overused in song (You Know) beautiful, lovely, poetry, so hard on the heart, yet so easy on the eyes. Yes, that's her, alright. A vision to be sure, a dream to be certain, sadly beyond the realm of possibility, and for so many reasons. And I am only kicking myself by wishing what could be. This is yet something else I will never speak of anywhere but here, so only you, Dear Universe, Dear Sister, Dear Reader, Friends, Romans, robots and strangers, will ever know. I mean, it's not really all that scandalous anyway. She's got grown-up kids about the same age as my grown-up kids, so she can't be a whole lot younger than me. One never asks a lady her age, right? Or that was the way I was brought up, to never ask. So, it's not so much scandal that holds me back. First of all, she's taken, and I would never wish to be responsible for breaking anybody up. As someone who found themselves on the other end of that equation long ago, I would never, could never be such a scumbag, the same kind of jerkwad who did that to me so long ago. She's with the dude, obviously, because she loves him. I can reasonably assume that he's with her because he loves her too. Never could I allow myself to be the instrument of betrayal and destruction of what, for all I know, could be something beautiful. Never. I know what it feels to be discarded, like an empty Pepsi can in a store parking lot. I will never become the same kind of creature that I have grown to hate so much. Secondly, I am not even sure she'd feel the same way about me as I feel about her. I'm not that damn suave in the first place. As I've said before, I'm no Don Juan, no Casanova, no supernova, and I'd probably be a lousy Chevy Nova, too. This is most likely an illusion, a mirage, a delusion on my part, a daydream fantasy that could never come true. Story of my life, man. Thirdly, it has to do with all that other stuff I never exactly talk about that would complicate things, even if she were to swoon and fall into my arms. (What a lovely mental picture that makes!) And the most damning reason of all? I have begun to value our friendship a lot. Even if this is all I'll ever have, it would still break my heart to lose it. It has been oh so long since I've had somebody to talk to about even half the things on my mind. In short, I like her a lot, but it's never going to happen. But, damn is she beautiful, poetry in motion as the old song goes. I'm like Ted upon seeing those medieval princesses, turning to Bill and saying, "I'm in love, dude." "Put them in the Iron Maiden." "Iron Maiden?" "EXCELLENT!" "Execute them!" "BOGUS!" That would about be my luck, dudes, and dudettes. Okay, enough going on about this. There is so much in reality that I must deal with, despite how lovely a distraction she is. Even with my daydreams and infatuations, I know what reality is. Speaking of which, I think the best way to add appeal to anything is to simply place it out of reach, make it impossible. I remember something from my childhood, the fable of the fox and the grapes. After many valiant attempts to reach the grapes, the fox just says to hell with it. "They're probably sour anyway." I wonder if the moral of the story is to just give up? Or that, from afar, distant vision adds glimmer and glitter to a mirage. Oh well, just a thought, grapes and foxes and everything in between. There is a bit of fatalism in that philosophy. It jives quite well with feeling like I have glitched out of the game, a perfect harmonic of feeling old, like a relic of a long lost time. It makes me wonder a lot of things. I ask myself just what goal actually within reach would make these latter years worthwhile, just what could distract me from daydreaming of dearest Oblivia in her shining armor, charging to my rescue from this pointless life. And, without a future, without a goal within sight, pointless is exactly what my life is. So, I need a goal. I need a reason. And I kinda need to hurry up with getting this old brain in gear to figure out what to do. We all need something to work toward, something to look forward to. It is the very genesis of purpose and meaning. And that is something we need if we're going to truly live. And I want to live, not just occupy space and time. Simply existing, just plain sucks. There are simply better places to be in the cosmos, if that's all I will ever be again. Sane or insane, who the hell would want such a mournful existence? Not me, Jack. Not in a trillion years. To be perfectly blunt, I find it not only boring but terribly uninspiring. If this were a book or a movie, I would have long ago found myself skipping chapters or holding down the fast-forward button. If it were a video game, I would have long ago restored a save file from the last century or had quit altogether. It is way too damned glitchy anyway. I've been in the void for a long time now, with rules and reasons being as far beyond my reach as I am from theirs. It's like interstellar space for the human soul, wondering just how in the hell they got so far from the warmth and the glow of that bright center. Now, it might as well be one star among infinity. Wow, it looks like I've led myself to a dark place again. I honestly try to be a bit more positive than that, and what you must understand, dear reader, is that this is where I vent my darker thoughts. So, therefore, in theory, I can be more positive in all other aspects of my life. I'll have to get back to you on whether or not it's working. There is so much beyond my control, and it seems I'm just along for this crazy ride. There are so many days that I wonder why. And keep in mind that I share things here that I do not share elsewhere. These are not thoughts I share with friends. These are not thoughts I share with family, since I lost my baby sister anyway. I used to tell her most everything. And there are also things I have never shared anywhere. As a consequence, there is a bit of missing context here. Someday, I might just get the courage to tell all. (But, until then) Suffice to say, I was having some particularly heavy thoughts a few years ago. I truly felt I had nothing to look forward to anymore. I found myself narrowing down the timing and even the way. (It scares the hell out of me nowadays) But, back then, it was honestly hard fighting my way through my days, only to either cry myself to sleep or just stare blankly at the ceiling, disconnected, longing for some other reality. Then, I finally decided to listen to a part of my soul that I had long ignored. I began to take steps to actually listen. And suddenly, I had something to look forward to again. Call it insanity. Call it a delusion. All I can say for sure is that it helped me for a long time. And what I believe in my heart has not changed, not even now. I know myself far better than anybody else can. It has never been a question of what is true, only a question of how much should I lie. For the lie fits the mold, the lie fits the role, and the lie fits normality. How much should I compromise in order to be left in peace? That has been the question all along. Nobody wants to be a joke. As I have said, It stops being silly. It stops being funny when it starts being you. See, I know. I was once on the sidelines outside of the situation and would have probably participated in the laugh fest myself. I guess nothing makes you learn, grow, and become a better human being than a new perspective. And peace (or the lack thereof) is a double-edged blade. Too much compromise will never lead me to peace. That's was what led me into that abyss those years ago. And too little? Well, that's on the other side of that all too familiar precipice and unknown. That figurative cliff marks the point of no return. I have indeed come a long way, but this is the end, unless I am willing to accept the consequences of baring my soul to the world. It is either the end or it is the point of compromise. And it seems I am drawn in two different directions. These forces seem to be in perfect balance as they keep me steady with one foot on that figurative edge. It is a tug of war with different aspects of myself on either end. I guess I've already spoken a lot of this situation earlier in these ramblings. It's crazy. Maybe I'm crazy too. But if I can't be honest about my feelings here, then where? Some things need to be said before one can move on from them. They don't necessarily need to be heard, but they at least be spoken of, even if I'm just shouting into the void. I guess I've sort have done this already. In my personal text files is a little something where I get a whole hell of a lot more specific. It is signed with a name I have never used elsewhere, but it was most definitely written by me. The title is a play on Al Gore's movie, except it has absolutely nothing to do with climate change. Well, except how my societal climate would certainly change if were to broadcast it to the world. Maybe I will someday integrate it back in these writings. I would now, but for the sake of sanity and peace. The mind and the heart, the mind and the body, how I wish they jived better than this. Life could have made so much more sense that way. But it seems we've got only the cards we were dealt in the beginning to do the best we can. In some games, the best we can realistically hope for is a draw. There is no such thing as saying it's only in your mind. For that mind is the lens in which we experience our world. The mind is everything, really. And you can't really understand unless you have stood in those same shoes. In a reasonable compromise with reality, I have done my best to fill the role and fit the mold. A cursory glance from the outside would certainly appear so. A closer look would reveal so much that is rarely seen. If one looks closely, they can see the truth. Maybe it's all illusion, or maybe it's 90 percent illusion. What is reality anyway? Work and bills and the many flavors of loneliness, despite themselves being the building blocks of my delusions. Fatigue, both short-term and long-term, I guess they're real too. If not love and belonging itself, then certainly my need for it is real. Physical or emotionally I am fairly certain my pain is real. A mind tripping on tiredness, and a heart hallucinating a ghost of a chance. I guess we're all strangers when it comes right down to it. With the story of others written as much in my mind as is built from actual encounters. I have spent so many damn years hiding in my own thoughts, I wonder the point of surfacing now that I have long ago glitched out of the game. I think I'd prefer a Wonderland, even if it's never gonna be real at all. Just what is real? And does it matter anymore? What is so wrong with a sweet dream? Even reality has to end sometime. Oh, Oblivia, my goddess, my angel, how I eagerly await my knight in her shining armor, beautiful and courageous, my hero. She'll save me someday from all of this. And if I'm wrong about oblivion, if spirits survive into the universe maybe I'll see my loved ones again. In the loving arms of Oblivia, or in the arms of those whom I love, both will mean the same thing. Endings do not necessarily require beginnings. Although I would much prefer the latter. Please don't get me wrong. As I have said, my darker thoughts are channeled here so they don't appear so much in the rest of my interactions with the world. You know, out of my head and on to the page. Doctor Blog-ieo is the cheapest therapy I have ever known. I know how dark I often sound here. But rest assured, I am not S-word-al. I am not purposely being fatalistic or negative, and I'm trying my damnedest not to be a cynic. I guess I sound like I'm speaking with forked tongues here, and maybe I am. My logic and my emotions have never really been on the same page (except here of course) and I guess they will always be going in different directions. I am being honest when I say I would love to have a number of happy years here too, just a few million moments of bliss before I get too freaking old. Actually I am completely honest all the time when it comes to my writings. It's just sometimes my heart speaks, and sometimes my mind has different things to say. But I think that both heart and mind truly desire to live life and not just merely survive. I mean where is the joy in that? I'm not asking for the moon. I am not expecting somebody else to do it all for me either. Just tell me what to do, Universe. I'm listening. And to quote Gump, that's all I've got to say about that. 

Worlds And Shoulders

I am well aware that I can't carry this whole world on my shoulders. There are so many things that are simply beyond my control. Even my own responsibilities can seem overwhelming, stifling, like walls closing in on me. It takes everything that I am just to meet them. And it just seems to be getting more difficult, financially, physically, spiritually, and mentally. Prices keep rising, my wages are stagnant, and now my hours are being cut. I worry about how much longer I can keep this together. I can only hope that my lifetime experience of having to do more with less will serve me well in these rough times. There are so many things I'd like to change, so many people I wish I could help. But it seems it's taking all I got to simply take care of myself. Life can seem so thankless in times like these. I'm down, depressed, worried about the future, and worst of all, It seems I am lonely. No matter how much I would deny feeling this way outside of these words. You, dear reader, are the only one in on this particular secret. I seem to go back and forth on that, and wow, do I ever! I am like a damn ping-pong ball. And none of this is exactly a conscious choice. Well, maybe at surface level, but it goes far deeper than that. How deep? Marianas Trench deep, my friends, far beyond even my own understanding.  My best guess is that I am mostly reacting consciously to my subconscious actions, if that makes sense. I often wonder if we all are so much more then even we ourselves believe. The mind is a complicated thing, yet human needs can often be basic. Whirl them around in a conscious swirl and see just how simple they remain? The short answer? Not simple at all.

People used to tell me I was smart, rightly or wrongly, but the truth is I'm intelligent in some ways and pretty darned dumb in others. Computers, especially old ones? I'm Cyber Freakin Merlin, a Jedi Master in a galaxy of 1's and 0's. Interpersonal relationships? "I'm not a smaaaaat man, but I know what love is." As far as figuring out this government health insurance, I'm short bus special. Nothing (besides maybe my one marriage) has ever made me feel so stupid. I've got a little while to figure it out, but I'm already getting one hell of a headache. Further complicating my situation is my hours being cut at work. That is not a good sign. I have already been struggling financially as it is. Things are only going to get worse unless I can figure out what to do. Man, life sucks. And I sure as hell ain't getting any younger. There is no time for a midlife crisis. Besides, I can't afford a new sports car. I can't afford a new and uncharacteristic wardrobe. I've got nobody to run around with (or on for that matter). So tell me, Google, how do we do this midlife crisis thing on a budget? Meanwhile, a minor thought: Just because I'm talking to her does not mean I'm chatting her up for a date. I'm not going all Don Juan, Casanova, Supernova, or even Chevy Nova. It could be that I enjoy our conversations. Please don't scare the poor gal off by making her think I'm over the moon. Can't a human being, especially perpetually single human being, have friends? On the other side of that coin, it doesn't mean that I'm not. Still, and for the record and to (Nixon style haroooo) make this perfectly clear, no, I'm not. Just because she's beautiful, intellectually stimulating, funny, and yadda yadda Yoda does not mean I'm head over heels for her. However, speaking of falling, I'm not into pickup lines, so here you go with one: Tell her she's like that first cup of coffee. Looks good, smells wonderful, and how you'd absolutely love to wake up to her every morning for the rest of your life. Yes, I like her, but life circumstances, yadda yadda yoda. And speaking of coffee, or maybe tea, how about another clean cup move down, subject change? Yeah. Good idea. I don't need to be daydreaming here.

The differences between being a literal space cadet and a figurative space cadet aka an astronaut vs a daydreamer are probably many. However, I can point out one similarity: For both, reentry is going to be rough and will bring you way down. As they said in airplane 1 or was it 2? Flying low is a very important part of landing. And we can't all have the luck of Major Nelson. And how I went from "Airplane" to "I Dream Of Jeannie" is anybody's guess.  There is a line from a Jewel Kilcher song that I can well relate to. Actually, friends, if people knew of all the songs I can relate to, they'd probably wonder about me, but still... Jewel sings about how a heart can hallucinate, when the lack of love is so overwhelming... And it makes you see things so differently. Perception can be everything, especially when you're starved for affection. I know this ideal vision in my mind can't exactly be real. It's like not knowing how hungry you are until you pass by a restaurant. It is sensory overload, and you feel as if you might wilt away and be taken away by the wind, empty with no meaning or substance. In other words, not cool, dudes. It has been a very long time. It's quite probable to be forever. I must find a way to live with that fact of living without. That's what it's like, having glitched out of the game. And, paradoxically, it is these ideal glimpses of what could be, what could have been, that really bring me down to the lowest low, the bluest blues, to this gloomy abyss of loneliness and self-pity. Damn it. Just what in the hell am I doing? Well, in a sense, the same thing I've always done. I chide myself for being silly, for keeping my head in the clouds, for being so damned unrealistic. I might quote Alice. Her words are so apt, for I give myself some very good advice, yet seldom ever follow it. Friends, that's me in more ways than anyone can ever know or realize. Believe me, this is the very core of my being. And how I idealize, fantasize, and daydream my life away. I spend so much time in my own little world. I know this can't exactly be a healthy coping mechanism, but I can't exactly stop. I guess it's healthier than booze, gambling, or drugs, but nowhere near the health of facing up to reality. And the more I dream, the more I see this rose colored vision of the ways things could be, the less I want to be here and now. Those are the darkest moments when I think literally nothing would be better. Not nothing but nothingness, the void, oblivion. And that is how I scare the daylights out of myself. I literally frighten myself with such thoughts. So I purposely go in the other extreme, magnifying glimmers of hope to blinding idealistic light. So much so that I can see angel wings on imperfect human beings. And that would simply be unfair to them, to put them on a pedestal so high, believing in figurative wings to bear them up. That would be expecting too much of them. We're all only human, right? We're all too human. And if there could be someday an equivalent to this daydream of love and belonging, It would be loving someone, flaws and all, a partnership on even ground so we can each be accessible, reachable to the other. An alliance, not worship, not ruling or being ruled. Just loving and working together to build something meaningful. It's probably not in the cards, but I guess that's why I dream. There are actually some days I am actually fine with the way things are. It's difficult to believe, especially by me in moments like this, but it's true. Yes, there are actually times when I feel I need only myself to know just who and what I am. Now is not one of those times. You might have even seen my fluctuations in these writings. It seems I am a different person depending on the times. I guess I am always of the belief that I do not need to be completed, but what exactly does that mean? It is not completion that I seek from another. More like love, belonging, and home. Yes, I am complete as I am, but even completion can feel lonely sometimes. It really is a hell of a thing. Remember my quote about what Bigfoot and the universe have in common? Big, a bit scary, and kinda lonely. Me, I'm average size, hopefully non threatening, but yep, still lonely. It's kind of developed into this permanent state. Well, maybe not, but it might as well be. I mean, ice is technically only frozen temporarily, but tell that to the deepest ice at the south pole. A million years is only temporary, but it might as well be forever to we mortal human beings. We human beings simply run out of time, and I am no exception to this rule. Love or oblivion, it's always going to be a question of one or both, and it takes no genius to figure out the order. And do you want to know the silliest, dumbest thing about this whole daydream? While the underlying reality of the situation never changes, the most ridiculous things can bring me way up or have me crashing down, feeling like crying. And it's so damn illogical, having absolutely nothing to do with the facts. It's a stupid roller-coaster ride, I know it is, Yet I can't seem to exit it. It's so ridiculous, and by letting these feelings lead me around, I am ridiculous. I know this intellectually, yet there is so much of my being that throws logic out of the window. One can't let their feelings overshadow their rational mind. It is most unbecoming of adulthood, especially middle-aged adulthood. I can almost hear my dear departed mother telling me to act my age. And it's true, she would be right (as she often was).  I am way too old for this shit. I know this, but this old heart will not listen.  And so goes the conundrum I find myself in. And with that, I think I'll order a nice clean cup move down. 

As I have always said to my kids, as I have always said to myself, as I've probably said here a few times, We're not like a still pond, always at the same level. No, we're more like the tide, high and low and high and low. And while I do understand this intellectually, there is another part of me that wishes the lows wouldn't last so long. Even if I know they're not forever, I have seen my share of mini-forevers when there is just as much night before me as ahead of me, When all is still, when all is quiet, save for my thoughts. I know I'm not the only one. I'm sure this is just a part of the human experience. If you've got a heartbeat, you're going to have those highs and lows. Like I said before, It's never a question of what, but of how. And it's the particular lens we see the world through that determines how I see it: positivity or negativity, possibility, or hopeless aspirations. It's rose colored glasses or shades of the deepest blue, And it's kinda a roll of the dice on which I will find when I reach for my glasses in the morning. It's rarely an event or a person that makes or breaks my day. In the end, It's only me. The one good thing about fall back is that it makes it much easier to call it an early night. Sleep really is the great escape, you know? Like I also said, it's nothing out of the ordinary, just life and the human condition and yadda yadda <(- _ -)> It's nowhere anyone else hasn't been at one time or another. High tide, low tide, so long as we stay above the waves. We human beings can't exactly escape being humans, can we? We are what we are whether or not all the aspects jive together. I wish they did, though. I wish I could truly be myself for once. I am so tired of this role. It's not me, and it never has been. Mind and body can both prove to be inescapable prisons. Life circumstances can be another. Figuratively speaking, it seems I am behind three walls. What's worse is that it seems I am on one of my lonely kicks. I can go days or even weeks without it bothering me, and then be drowning in this feeling for days and weeks more. And I'm not even sure what brings this on. Well, maybe I actually do this time. My own fault, I guess. It seems the mind and the heart are never on the same page. What do you do when you outlive hope and glitch out of the game? What do you do when anticipation loses its energy, becomes still, cold, a frozen block of ice? What do you do when you realize you will forever be removed from all the world and its beauty, always at arms length, beauty you will never be able to touch? And there is no worse feeling than seeing everything around you crumbling down and you can't do a damn thing about it. Oh well, this is certainly leading me no place good. It's definitely time for a subject change: Clean cup move down

Okay, okay, okay. What now? Or more to the point, What should I do now? I think taking a second job would be the best option if (and that is one hell of a word) if this company I work for is not going to shut down on me. I guess a second job could be anything, flipping burgers, stocking shelves, things I've certainly done before, even if it's been a long time. I actually like my current job, and I'd hate to leave it, especially if things pick up after a while. I spent 13 years in the land surveying business, and what I certainly learned there is that it all depends on the crew you find yourself on. Some crews work together well and get along well. It's almost like a group of friends that just happen to have a job to do. Some crews, however, do not get along and do not work together well. I remember one crew where I thought there was going to be a fistfight, and I sure didn't want to be caught in the crossfire (Cross fist?). There was another where the party chief and the instrument man were each scheming to get the other fired. So, it's really a roll of the dice. Nonetheless, I know a place that would hire me if I really wanted to go that route. I wonder if asking the boss how his crews get along with one another would give away my apprehension? That is not my first choice. See, outdoor jobs are lovely in the spring and fall, but absolutely suck in high summer and bleak winter. I like working indoors these days. Especially since I quit smoking or vaping. I have no reason to be out in the cold. Indoor work is just fine and dandy with me. I'd much rather stick with driving a forklift. It's a job I know well and I certainly like, except for the low pay and crappy benefits, and now they're cutting my hours too. There is just no mercy or even understanding for we minions. A living wage should not be too much to ask. 

Help Me Universe Kenobi (You're my only hope)

Dearest Universe, Dearest Sister,

One way I know you're never far from my thoughts are these quiet moments when I'm reminded you're always there. When others close their eyes to find only darkness, it is your face I see. I couldn't forget you, even if I wanted to, and I don't. Is it you? Could it be you? Or is it just the memory of this all too human being? I don't know what to believe, only what I want to and choose to believe. And only just how much I miss you, even now, even for the rest of my life. My dear sister, what has become of this world? What has become of me? 

As someone who believes in being in it for the long haul or not at all, unfortunately defaulting to the latter, and therefore not claiming to be perfect myself by any means... I just don't understand how people can change significant others like rich folks trade in for a new car every so often. This is not a statement of hate, but of simply not understanding. See, I have a difficult time changing how I feel. When my marriage went to hell 15 years ago, I took way too long to get beyond it, far longer than I am willing to admit. I'm fine now, but it was a long process. So, I have to wonder how one can just suddenly stop loving another and replace them. It's like Micky D's firing a cook and hiring another one. Would you like fries with that? See, If I love you, I love you. It takes a lot to change that, and I certainly can't. Though there was one who successfully rose to the challenge long ago, and even that took years. As I said, it's not hate or envy or any other of the seven. It is only me trying to understand something I simply can't grasp. With me, it's rarely a question of what I want, but how exactly, and sometimes even why. There are lively debates in the Mentalic Senate, aka my mind, to these very questions. But, rarely what. There are some things I just know, even if the particulars, the how's, and even the why's remain uncertain. I very well know who I am and what I'd like to see happen. I only live in one mind, this one. And I can't exactly not know how it feels to be me. It's like something I recently said to someone: While empathy and understanding of others is important, never discount your own feelings. They are valid, they are real, and so are you. 

While the solstice is a month and a half away, I dare say that today is the first day of winter in my part of the world. Man, it's cold! But 3 shirts, a light jacket, and a heavy jacket, I'm good to go. Bahz von Frozemov. It's that time again. No snuggles for me, but I've got two comforters and a blanket, and it was damn tough getting out of bed this morning. I was nice and warm and didn't want to give that up, but gotta chase that almighty dollar because everybody thinks I'm rich. Welcome to reality. Damn. Ain't life wonderful? It is sure full of ironic moments. Case in point: She's beautiful, and I kinda like her. There are even moments when I get the feeling that maybe she likes me too. Of course this may be a daydream off course, wishful thinking out of bounds. Still. If I take it out of real life and just make it a hypothetical question, then what do I think? Well, as I said, she's beautiful, and I quite enjoy our conversations. And life just gets so damn lonely sometimes. But, would I be who or what she needed? Maybe if I had a nice home to welcome her into. Maybe if I hadn't been single these past 15 years, and so out of practice when it comes to a relationship, and maybe a bit messed up by the one I did have. If I truly love someone, care for them deeply, then I'd want to be everything they ever needed. And I'm just too much of a mess right now. Too many uncertainties, too many loose ends, too many what if's. If I ever started something up, I would want to do it right. And the sad reality is that by the time I'd ever be ready, I'd just be too damned old. I am only lonely sometimes. Some days I'm okay. But, nothing cuts deeper then the times when I'm not okay at all. It is a basic human need that not every human being can hope to have fulfilled. Damn, I just made myself profoundly sad. Geesh, who needs other people to bring me down when I do so well bringing myself down? Well, like I said, I would want to be as good for sombody as they would be for me. It's only fair, right. To give and take, to hold and be held, to love and to be love. This is one hell of a hypothetical. Damn. I do believe it is time for another clean cup move down.

Well, today is my youngest son's birthday, and my middle had a birthday two days ago. All my kids are now in their 20s, not a teenager to be found. It's kinda hard to believe. A lot has changed since they were 5, 7, and 9. That's when my journey of single parenthood began. It simultaneously seems like not so long ago, and forever ago. I managed to somehow raise them the rest of the way. My parents were a lot of help as well. The 14th would have been 25 years since I married their mother, but as it is now, 10 years married, 15 years divorced. Life can be unpredictable. But, right now I just don't have the heart or the nerves to think about all that went down back then. I guess some things will just be with me forever. I made one of the most serious mistakes of my life 25 years ago, but I wouldn't have my three grown kids had I not made it. And those three? They were meant to be, and never but never, have they ever been a mistake. That's what I've always told them. Though I sometimes wish they had a different mother, or that I made them in a lab, or something like that. Every child deserves two committed parents. Mine have really only had me, and I've always been a mess, especially after their mother left us. Still, I must have done a few things right, for here they are. Somehow I got them raised. They're not criminals or druggies, and they're always here when I need them. They are good men and I am most certainly proud. They're not always perfect, but then again, neither am I.