Pouring Out Like Water

Hello, Universe. 

Today, as always, I'm missing you. I still have your number stored in my phone, but I've got a feeling that by now, I'd be ringing up a stranger who would probably be less apt to patiently listen to my venting as you always did. You know? I wish they retired phone numbers like sports jerseys, voicemail intact. Sometimes, just hearing a voice helps the heart, even if it's only an echo from the past. I have learned much about this in the last couple of years. It's not that it ever really goes away. There's no getting over or moving on. You just learn to compartmentalize it, place it in a dusty sock drawer of your mind. That makes it no less still here. You still feel it there, sometimes as intensely as day one. You just learn to live with it because there is but one other choice.  It's not easy. Ad algorithms pick up on this built-in grief and serve me up the dumbest, exploitive shit. Why would I name a single star for someone who deserves a thousand galaxies? Why would I want a memory ring when there is no way in infinity I could ever forget them? Maybe what I think is precious can never be bought or sold. In English? My feelings are not your quick buckazoids, so shut up about memory rings, memorial plaques, or naming stars. Meaningless trinkets and a mark on an unofficial chart can never bring her back. And, if you can not bring her back, then you are wasting my time. My baby sister is worth far more to me than any empty comfort you can conjure. What kind of jackass sees dollar signs in somebody's grief? And a bigger question is why am I reacting this way? I also freaked out at a spammer putting their scam bullshit on something I wrote on another site. I guess I shouldn't expect these jerkwads to respect the dead any more than they respect the living. It was probably one of those bots... I swear they're ruining the internet and I guess there's not much we can do about it right now. My freaking out won't change a thing. If you'll remember. Universe it was you who got me started on the internet a long time ago, and it was a wonderful place. Maybe we still couldn't tell what was real, but chances are it was a human being on the other end of the connection. You don't get some POS peddling their bullshit on a comment about losing my sister. You better believe that... I know getting upset does not stop all these entities that want to (For various reasons) trivialize and vandalize matters of the heart. I know I am taking this far too much to heart like our mother always did, making mountains out of molehills and having trouble letting go. Just as logic fail Sarek when it concerns his son, So does logic fail me when it has anything to do with my baby sister.  I guess it's best that I change the subject, Sis. Not to forget you because I could never do that. Not in an eternity, not in an eternity of eternities. Never! Still, I really do need to change this subject, otherwise it's just that downward emotional spiral I have written about far too many times. I know these spammers and companies aren't deliberately trivializing you. There's no direct malice or ill intent. They're just showcasing the shitty side of the modern day internet.

Remember how Momma was always a big fan of the TV show, M.A.S.H? I wasn't so much as that show didn't know whether to be a comedy or a drama. Come on! Laugh mode or cry mode! Pick one! Then I realize, how very hypocritical of me. Hell that show is a lot like me of late. Or am I a lot like the show? Maybe so, sometimes silly and irreverent, sometimes gloomy and glum. Allen Alda would be very proud of me, wouldn't ya think? She also liked Kojak and Quincy. aka "Who loves ya baby" and "Dat wasn't an accident, it was moyda" respectively. Then the very reason I like the first two seasons of "Miami Vice" to this very day is because Momma used to religiously record it every week on her VCR. She hated "Hogan's Heroes", which I happened to like. Though the Germans in that show were unrealistically easy to trick. I have no doubt Colonel Klink would have been drummed out of the real German army or worse for that level of incompetence. Otherwise I really enjoyed that show. I finally asked Momma why she didn't like Hogan's Heroes. It turns out being the only girl outvoted by three brothers on which channel to have the TV on was her reason for not liking that show. I wonder what was on the other channels? Momma was also a fan of Perry Mason. I never really got into that show. Give me Matlock or Night Court instead. (Look A Cat!) Yep I'm sitting here on my lunch break and a big cat just walked through my work area, paused by my forklift, gave me a sideways glance like, "Wachyu doin' here?" Then proceeded to climb into the racks down the way. I guess we must not have much of a mouse problem around here. I remember last summer we had a seagull in here for a few days. I guess I could have closed my eyes and pretended I was at the beach had I not been in the middle of driving a 10,000-pound forklift. OSHA might have balked at that. Oh well, it's just a random thing to fit in the middle of all my rantings and ramblings. Speaking of which: Here's another. When somebody belches like a Klingon warrior's battle cry, there is enough of highschool me left to be impressed. But middle-aged me wants to say, "Dude, maybe you need to see a doctor?" 

(throws head back) "RRRRAAAAAAAA!!!

You Know? I am really on a wavelength of my own, I think. My sense of humor is so far out in left field that it probably makes no sense to anyone but myself. I have beliefs all over the spectrum, conservative in some ways, liberal in others, guaranteed to make both left and right angry if I were to speak my mind. Including my belief that election 2024 is just a case of dumb vs dumber. One idiot wants to mess with my rights, and the other idiot is absolutely killing my bottom line, all while spouting nonsense that everything is better. I have never seen a shitshow quite like this.  But, I digress, I guess. What I am trying to say here is that I am a curious creature, no doubt. I guess I speak my own language. I take being yourself and following your heart to the extreme sometimes. I think the world is big enough for all of us. I do not base my friendships on politics. If I like you, I like you. If that is what weird is,then I proudly proclaim it. Nanoo Nanoo. And those folks on social media? They're only getting the Stars And Stripes version of events. You guys and my dearest Universe, you're getting the full-on Walter Cronkite version. Yep, yep, that's the way it is. Speaking of social media, I think I've figured out this whole targeted ad thing. When I get ads for fast cars, expensive wine, some of them entirely in French, they're targeting manic me. When I get ads for hard booze and happy pills, they're targeting depressive me. When I get ads for skin care products, fancy perfume, and certain clothes, hmmmmmm. Ever see a 1990s TV show on FOX called "Herman's Head"? Well, well, on behalf of us all, I salute you for your inclusiveness. At least they no longer think I'm some geezer obsessed with pills. I have my own obsessions, damn it! Nope, not THOSE kinds of pills. I have a litany of reasons why I don't want em and don't need em. Maybe someday I'll make a top 10 list, David Letterman style. But for now, that goes far beyond even Cronkite. Though, this,  too, is the way it is. For now, anyway, for now. I am so glad that dreaded January is almost over. Maybe I will someday some way be able to turn my thoughts into something else. Ah, February. Valentine's and President's Day. Then there's Momma's birthday, of course. She would have been 75. While I'll no doubt think of her and be out of sorts that day, it still has nothing on January 23rd. Otherwise, the focus of the outer world seems to be on Cupid. Not that it matters much to perpetually single me. Still, my social media feed is full of Valentine's related ads about nice gifts for my significant other. Then I realized that I AM my significant other. And we have sooooo much in common. So, I think maybe flowers, candy, dinner, and a movie. And cool computer stuff. Yes, cool computer stuff. I always know just what to buy myself. You know, I am really beginning to think that I'm "The One". I need a new escape. Once upon a time, it was movies and music. Later, it was games on old consoles and on MS-DOS computers. Then came Wolf And Doom And Duke.. Later came visual novels and the captivating ways they had of taking me to other places, and of letting me be somebody else. Then there were games where I created my own characters, curious reflections not of the looking glass, but of my very soul. Those were the best escapes of all. How wonderful was it to run around on a brightly sunlit beach as myself, even while January coldness and bleakness reigned supreme in my real life. How beautiful, how wonderful all these escapes were. It's just that they lose their magic over time. I need something new, maybe something more permanent. Basically, I just need to get the hell outta here. Sometimes, reality just sucks. Tired, lonely, no real future, and damned if I'm not getting old, too. When people conclusively prove they're not my friends, I guess I shouldn't get upset. It just goes to show I could do far better than them. It's not like they know what I'm about anyway. If anything, it makes me appreciate those rare souls, those awesome people that I call REAL friends. As for the others, who the hell needs you anyway. I have known some beautiful souls in my time, and I have learned how rare and wonderful they are. I would walk a mile for them. But as for this loudmouthed holier than thou you know what, My ass might as well be glued to my chair. Respect is a two-way street. Respect is about more than just who you are, but what you do. And really, what one does shows who they are far more than what they say. Talk is cheap, right? Well, it depends on the person I'm listening to. For some people, it is my very pleasure to listen to for hours on end. Others, I just want them to shut the hell up right now. Some souls are awesome, and you can hear their beauty in their words. Others are rotten, corrupted to their very core, their voices atrocious, and their words even uglier. I have realized that it's not that I want to be alone. I just want the right people around me. 

I wonder just how many of we imperfect human beings truly have an objective, absolute view of the reality around us. I also wonder how much that is colored by the lens of the soul is merely point of view, merely our own flavor of reality, and at what point does it become a delusion. And my wondering continues as to just who gets to say where and when that point is. I guess point of view is everything. It all comes down to point of view, Kenobi style. Then I guess numbers also come into play. I suppose if enough people see the same reality or have a similar enough point of view, well, the chances of delusion are fairly low. However, if it's only you or only me, then I suppose some healthy questioning would be in order. I guess the only exception to points of view in great numbers is when it is something only one person knows. And there has to be at least one or two things about ourselves that only we know. It need not be something crazy or controversial, i.e.,'What you did last summer'. It can be quite mundane. The only requirement is that it be something only one person knows. And as far as these things, how can we really tell what is real or not? Maybe real to you or me is real enough. Why not let people be happy? Let's face it, life can sure be a misery sometimes. I say to grab whatever happiness we can and hold onto whatever we can. Why not let people be happy, even if they are deluded from your point of view. If they're not harming anyone, why not leave them alone? I guess what prompted this whole spill was this video I watched where they were berating this poor girl just because she (in their opinion) took this whole Otaku thing too far. So what? Was she ridiculous at times? Yes. Was she harming anyone? No. Did it make her happy? Yes. Then why not leave the poor girl alone and let her be who she wants to be? As I said, life sucks. Why deny anyone their happiness? It just may well be all they have. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of things out there that even I don't understand. Furries, for example. Who the hell runs around saying, "I'm a wolf, arooooo!"? Are they deluded? Possibly. But I guess if that's their only source of happiness, then who am I to say they can't? Religious people and all their posts about kneeling before Zod are another example. But if it gives them comfort, then who am I to ruin it for them? If it makes them happy, let them be. They just need to learn to let others be and not push their medieval superstitions on people like me. See, although I am not exactly the son of Jarrell, I won't be kneeling before Zod anytime soon, unless he really does humiliate the president, whichever idiot that wins the election this year. They both need a dose of humility. If he does that, General Zod will be my lord, liege, and king. See, anything can be seen as a delusion by someone. I'm sure a lot of people would call me crazy, but what is real to me is real enough. It's a big universe. There is room for us all. Do what you will but do no harm. And most importantly, be happy, seek happiness. Be yourself. Life is too short to be anyone else. I am who I am. In many ways, I always was. There were just some things that took me some time to realize. It's not always so much that we change. Well, we do change, but it's not always that simple. Sometimes, we simply get tired of pretending to be something we're not. And it's ironic how some get this whole concept totally backwards. Yes, Ironic, a total paradox, really, that the quickest way to be accused of 'pretending' is to finally stop. How very human of us all. If being my true self means I'm weird, crazy, or deluded, or whatever the hell, then so be it. You're not telling me anything I didn't already know. But in the very core of my heart and soul, I know who and what I am. It is real to me, and because it is of me, the only person with the right to determine the realness of my inner self, real to me, is real enough. I am a bit of a mess today, and it seems out of nowhere. Are you still out there somewhere? Can you look back and still see me? Damn... What the hell is life anymore? Do you know what I miss most about being young? Having a potential future in front of me that involved possibilities other than old age, death, and no longer having you in my life. That's not much to look forward to, is it? Maybe death for me won't be so bad. Well, maybe if it involves the goddess Oblivia and her loving embrace, or maybe seeing you, momma, our grandparents, and my dearest friends again. Would it be any worse than running my ass off just to maintain a status quo that I hate? What the hell is the point? And I must ask myself again, what is there left for me but old age and death? I won't say that I am sick and tired of living because I haven't really been living for a long time now. No. I have been merely existing, and I am sick and tired of merely existing. I want to live, but this is not living, friends. Not at all. I do not want to merely exist. Let me live or let me die. Anything else is totally unacceptable. I grow so weary of this existence. If I could have peace in my heart, maybe tranquility in my soul, and better still, something to look forward to, then maybe all this day to day grind would be worthwhile. What is life without the potentiality of anything besides old age and death? What is life without a day to look forward to? I guess the only point in running yourself crazy to maintain a status quo that you totally hate is avoiding a situation far worse. Have you ever fought tooth and nail just to get through a rough patch in your life, finally make it through to the other side, and wonder just why you even bothered? I have been through some heavy shit, made it through a few hard seasons, and I find myself here on the other side of them. In the words of Sam L, I'm still alive, mothalovers! Okay, so what did I win? Just a fight, I guess. I really don't think I have much more than my battle scars to show for it. The Grand Prize showcase shitshow turns out to be the same shit on a different day until I'm dead. Gee, it's good to know all this pain was worthwhile. Yes, I think it's time for another clean cup move down subject change. Otherwise, these thoughts are heading no place good, good, and fast. 

Yes, yes, let find something else to talk about, shall we? Clean cup mooooove down! And a very merry unbirthday to you, my dear. Let's all laugh the day away in the merry ol land of Oz. Wait... Wrong book, wrong movie. Who was the coolest, Alice or Dorothy? Why ask? Alice is always the greatest. There's not mushroom for anyone else in my opinion. Wonderland is better than Oz, my friends. Door mice, Cheshire cats, Mad Hatters, and March Hares. And tea, yes tea, you simply must have another cup of tea. Me? I'll have whatever that caterpillar was on. And this time, we'll make sure that those damn flowers learn a few things from us. If I were Alice... (wow that phrase gives me pause) (Leaving a bit unsaid here) I'd be back with a lawnmower. How dare you call me a weed! That goes too for that bird that called me a snake, and that deck of cards that don't know how to play croquet. Yep... Alice II: Payback Time. In theaters near you. Seriously you may wonder why I lapse into silliness like this, especially on the heels of something on the heavy side of Uranium. It's simple. Sometimes onto the page does not necessarily mean out of my head. This silly talk is my little escape from reality, a much needed bridge over my pain. Maybe you understand. Maybe you don't. Another way to say it is every Alice needs her Wonderland. But, Don't trouble your pretty little head, dear, if you don't get it. Trust me. You will someday. In summary it seems to have worked as my head now seems empty with nothing more to say. Whatever was isn't anymore. It's left me inwardly into these words, and outwards across the universe. How did that Bible verse quoted by The Guess Who in "Hang On To Your Life" go? 

I am poured out like water. 

Waking From January

 

Coming back to myself is a little like waking from a dream. I guess it also can involve literally just that. See, I made it through another 23rd of January, got home, and was out before the sun went down. See, a side effect of heavy thoughts is they kinda wear me out. Sleep, deep sleep, is the next ingredient. It was definitely what I needed as I woke up feeling rested and a bit lighter in my heart. I can't exactly know why I feel better, but I won't question it. You may have noticed my weirdness level has gotten more and more the closer the 23rd got. But now, I have made it through that day of all days. And now I just feel more at peace than I have in a while. There will be a couple of rough spots ahead, but spring is coming. You see, spring does for this old heart the same thing it does for the grass, trees, and flowers. May we all get through our rough days and may we all find our Spring. Much love everyone. This goes double for all those who were kind and patient with me when they didn't have to be. As for the assholes? Go to hell. And in the immortal words of Forest Gump, that's all I got to say about that. Man, there have been some confusing times in my life, especially in my distant past. But there are even moments of the here and now that seem to rival even that past. I guess when it's all you have, it's really all you have and you damned well better hold onto whatever you can. Especially if it brings happiness, even if for only fleeting moments. It seems my present day is all about running out the clock because the part that mattered was over long before I even knew what it meant. The game is long over and I'm just left with whatever lifespan. I might as well cling to whatever joy there is to be had. That means being true to myself. That means seeing myself in the looking glass, hearing myself when I speak.... And knowing full well in my soul that yes.... This is me. The older I get, the less sense this mold makes, and the less purpose this role has. Of all the confusion there is or ever was, one thing is crystal clear: I know who I am. The question upon those lines has been answered for a long time now.  Of all the doubts in this world, there is none as to who I see before me, the color of this soul, of each point of light that graces my heart. Ladies and Gentlemen, This is me. You can either know me or not. It makes no difference to what I am whether you see me or not. I know the aura of my own soul. Nobody has to approve, disapprove, or even acknowledge. A human being is a wondrous entity. There is so much more to us than meets the eye. And the best part? We're not all carbon copies of each other. How boring would that be? Look, It's not about pushing one's worldview on others. In fact this has much more to do with one's own life than it ever had to do with projecting a persona. Besides: Not everyone wishes to be on display like that. Why should I be front page news? How often is that a good thing? Almost never. So... Here's the deal: You be you, and I'll be me. Go ahead and let your own life be governed by your strongly held opinions and beliefs. Nobody is going to stop you. It is when it stops being you and starts being me that the decision becomes mine. The whole concept of freedom is not prefaced with "....So long as you do things my way." You do your way and I'll do my way. This whole idea of having to fit in with a bunch of incompatible people just irks me. I mean really. If you can't be yourself in your own circle, that doesn't make you a square. It only means it's time to elope with another ellipse. You know change scares the hell out of me. Still, there comes a time when it is necessary. Then there is the question of how to go about it. There is a reason I have stayed put for such a long time. This situation is a good deal more complicated than people might think. How can I put this without coming right out with it? I'm....... different. Yes, I think that is an apt way to put it. Different. And because of this difference, what worked for me in the past can never work for me in the future. In my current job, the pay is crappy and the hours outright suck. But.... It's close to home. There is no going out of town and sharing a motel room with a stranger. I am also kind of isolated here, and that is most certainly a good thing. It all boils down to privacy, and in privacy, I can be my true self. I get so few chances to be me as it is. I also like going home at the end of the day. I like my quiet time. I like my me time. The idea of having to spend days on end among strangers who would never understand is absolutely terrifying. This whole tightrope walk that I have to do would be so much easier if assholes quit playing with the line. 

I'm not sure what message my subconscious is trying to tell me, but it seems my recurring dreams have been having recurring themes.

 

1. Going back to smoking (bad for me)

2. Going back to my ex (Worse for me)

3. Going back to my old job (Hmmmm? so-so)

4. Going back to high school (WHAT?)

 

The latter dream even included my getting a text from my original homeroom teacher saying something about "New Life Sciences 101" (What the heck is that?). Texts? What texts? I graduated more than three decades ago! That's like talking about SONAR on the Titanic. My repeating dreams have certainly been big on encores. I've seen Momma, I've seen Marsha, I've seen my Marlboro reds in the box, and I've seen my ex. The former two are always welcome visitors that make me happy, though I tend to wake up feeling bad because it was only a dream. The latter two are persona non grata that I could die happy never seeing again. As for my old high school, I'd only want that if I could have back my youth, my mother, my sister, and 1991. If it's still 2024, then it's all pointless. The theme seems to be all about repeating my past, something I'd rather not do. I'd rather have something new and exciting (in the good way) (Please not in the bad way) to make my life seem new again. Conversely, I could use a bit more peace and tranquility, too. Hell, I guess I don't know what I want, only what I don't, which is more of the same. Why repeat the same experience over and over again, especially the unpleasant ones? I can see repeating the good stuff. Just not the boring or painful experiences. If I've been there and done that, I do not want to go back there and do it again. What I'm saying is that life should be about so much more than keeping the demons at bay and the wolf away from the door. If that's all there is, then why do we bother at all? I once again forgot to put the food I left out to thaw into the crock-pot this morning. I also forgot to bring my lunch again, but luckily, I had time to run by the store on my way in. I swear if I get much more absent-minded and forgetful, y'all can just put me in a home. I'd like to consider myself to be a reasonable human being. I wouldn't guess I'm the best judge as you know how the closest can be the last to see. Still... Whoever that was with the bright lights that would put an arc welder to shame aimed right down my employer's driveway where everybody was trying to see where the heck they were going trying to get here..... Well, I was having some mean thoughts my mother wouldn't have approved of. Sometimes, it is unironically reasonable to be irate. But I still kept quiet and was nice. Still, I have afterimages from them lights worthy of an acid trip. Not that I've ever done acid, but it's what I would imagine it to be. Oh well, I'm rambling, aren't I? Good morning? Yeah it's eight o'clock at night. 

 

I miss my baby sister no less now than I do on any January 23rd. I guess on the 23rd, These flashbacks get a lot more vivid. I just find myself back in that little room holding her hand, entertaining the false hope that because she squeezed my hand back in reflex that maybe that meant she was coming back to me, kicking my own ass for foolishly thinking that since my elderly father survived this sickness, so would my little sister. I should have been by her side the moment she was hospitalized. I overcame my anxiety and braved the traffic for my mother and my father. I damn sure should have overcame my anxiety for my baby sister too. But still, I thought she was going to be okay. Foolish, so goddamn foolish. I am not so arrogant to think I could have saved her by being by her side sooner, but she was my kindred sibling of the universe, and I should have been there in whatever capacity anyway. I will live with this guilt for the rest of my life. It makes me feel so hollow. I know she wouldn't want me to feel this way. I also know that kicking my own ass is not doing her any favors. Still, I can't seem to help it. January is soon to be over once again. There are these next few weeks and the warmth of spring, the brightness of the colors.  The monotone gloominess of January will take its proper place in the past. There will hopefully be moments when it seems distant. But there will always be a part of me that never left that little hospital room where I lost the best friend I ever had. It is something I am learning to live with the best I can. There is no getting over something like that. There is just this learning to live with the finality of it all. The reason I go through the effort is because of what I know she would wish for me. While I know I am not exactly the awesome older sibling she viewed me as, I still wish to try to be. I wouldn't spend the energy doing this for myself. But for her, I will. She would want me to live and live well and she would tell me to stop beating up on myself for things I just can't change now. I know this because I know her. Still it is the most difficult thing ever.  I would like to thank all the friends, Romans, robots, and strangers who have made it this far through all my ramblings. I know this gets weird and rough sometimes. You are all princes among men, princesses among women, and proud farm girls of Robonia, a land you most certainly didn't make up. Kudos to you and much love.... May we all find the peace and rest we most desperately desire.

This Day Of All Days

It's January 23rd..... Again.

Hi Sis, It's me. 

As you can imagine, I am a bit of a mess today. I know you wouldn't want me to be like this, but I can't really help it. I just miss you. It's been two years but time is strange. Time most certainly does not heal this loss. I think of you, of all your plans, hopes, and dreams. I think of everything you put your heart and soul into. I think of that little hospital room, of the walls closing in and of losing you. Yes, time is strange because part of me will be in that room forever. I hope that somewhere in this Universe you are happy and at peace. I hope too that it is possible we'll meet again. I see our kinship to be of far more than merely the biological, but also cosmological. Maybe I'm crazy. I honestly wouldn't doubt it these days. And let's just say I haven't been very happy with myself. I have been thinking those heavy thoughts. You would know the thoughts I mean. Our similar wiring tells me you've had those thoughts too. We were always there to talk the other through such thoughts. Now I just have this blog. I can escape a lot of things, even people, but I can never get away from myself or the harsh limitations of reality. I sometimes wish I could actually afford a real vacation. But then again, no matter how far away I go, I'm quite sure I'd still be me. I'd absolutely love to spend a couple of weeks being someone else. There have been rare people (mainly you) who used to say I was awesome just as I was. I never quite understood what they saw in me, but I did my best to live up to their vision. Now, there is nothing left but words unsaid and defunct phone numbers and memories of those long gone. The 23rd is a rough day. I must apologize in advance if I am acting even more weird than I normally am. Hearts and minds remain mysteries, especially my own. As you may have gathered, I tend to spend several days cobbling together my disjointed thoughts before I post them in this blog. Therefore, I'm sure the 23rd will have come and gone by then. But from where I am sitting, it's today. Two years, Sis, two years. Sometimes the years disappear altogether, it happened yesterday, no doubt tomorrow too. Sometimes, the years stretch out to infinity, and it seems forever ago that I stood by your side and held your hand, hoping you knew I was there, foolishly hoping I could bring you back. The years disappear, and I could swear I am back in that room with the walls closing in and wanting to scream, to loudly shout down the reality of losing you, to make it flee before me. Damn and curse this reality, that sadistic liar, that cruel thief, even now I curse it. But what is now.. is it 2024 or 2022? I can't see the difference. Damn that day and to hell with 2022. If it were a person, I would kick its ass all over a Tallahassee hospital parking lot. Damn that day. I am so angry with that day and monumentally pissed at myself, too. Surly, I could have done better by you, surely I should have been by your side from the beginning. But I let false logic lull me, that since our elderly father recovered, you, eight years my junior, would too. I was wrong, and I hate myself for it. You were the one person who truly believed in me. It was amazing to see myself through your eyes. You saw what I could never see. I only wish I could have lived up to that vision. Now, it seems everything is gone, and if I keep on with this subject, I'm going to be one hell of a weepy mess. I wish I had been worthy. Please forgive me, Sis. Okay, okay, okay. Subject change, please. Clean cup move down. The hatter is madder than ever, and I'm afraid Alice is a bit out of sorts today. Give her some time, please. I think that by simply putting January behind me will be doing a world of good. As the world warms, as the land greens, as the flowers bloom, you will see a side of me that I actually feel good about sharing. Chipper, happy, and not so much of a buzz kill. Photography is a hobby of mine, and I am looking forward to sharing a bit of the beauty I can capture in images. I am not a pro, but it makes me happy. All I have to do is make it through this month, especially tomorrow. In other news, I had another close call with Bambi's mum this morning. This makes the second in a month. Damn deer. I had to slam on brakes, which sent my workbag flying, well squishing my sandwich bread. But at least I didn't wreck. Damn deer are everywhere. I am no hunter, but I'm darn sure rooting for them. Dodge Deer is not my favorite sport. This having to be on the road before dawn is dangerous as hell this time of year. Probably my messed up state of mind isn't helping either. Man, I've got to get through these next few days. Why is it worse now than ever? The thoughts that run through my brain have not exactly been healthy. Give me that sunshine and greenery, and give me colorful flowers. I need them now more than ever. Let's just say there's a lot hanging in the balance that may well depend on brighter, more colorful days. Not to be a drama queen or anything, but simply to state a fact obvious only to me. I suppose that even now, I am being a bit vague, but I have some very good reasons. 

Well, that day of all days has reared its ugly head again. I don't know what day it is from where you're sitting, but here it's January 23rd. I hate this day and at this moment just about everything else, too. Have you ever wished you could punch a day? If I could, I would make Iron Mike proud. In fact, I wouldn't limit myself to just one punch. I would totally throw down on the 23rd's ass. In addition to what day this happens to be, it is also not going well otherwise. As I reached into my workbag, I realized I had forgotten something that is just going to make this day worse by not having, but never mind. I took my blood pressure medicines, and then I took my antidepressant, what I call my anti-cryin' pills. Those little guys sure have their work cut out for them on this day of all days. I doubt they work very well. Today is Suckuary The Worst, the day of all days, the day that stole my baby sister from me. I hate it beyond passion. To hell with this day. Now, I will try my best to distract myself by talking of other things, but she is foremost on my mind. Instead of deer this morning, it was humans and their bright ass halogen lights. I can't say I am a fan of either species as they're both a danger to me so early in the morning. Yeah, yeah, I'm a human too, but I annoy myself, and I'm not exactly a fan of me either. That looking glass mismatch for one thing and myself from the distant past another. But you can't escape yourself. I guess there may be one way, but I am not so sure that would work either. Damn this day, damn January, and damn the 23rd. You know? My baby sister thought the world of me. I wish I could see and even be that person she saw in me. I just don't see that version of myself. Especially today. Damn this day. Damn this day. Words could never describe my hatred for January 23rd. This is going to be a long day. All I want to do is go home and to my bed and stay under the covers until this damnable 23rd is over. They say time heals, but two years hasn't done a goddamn thing. She's still gone and not coming back. How in the hell am I supposed to heal? Instead, I have learned to live with the grief and without her. But am I over it? Hell no, and I never will be. Okay, It seems that my attempt to distract myself has failed. I guess I will try again. I am a bit ill with my employer. Remember me saying I was back to 40 hours? Apparently, they were lying. Oh, well. I think I will start matching my attitude to pay. I have never seen a more cheapskate employer in my life. Oh, well. You get what you pay for, jerks. Tell me friends, Romans, robots, and strangers: What is there left of my life beside whatever time I have? Is this a life, or is it a sentence? And will I be free or simply gone when it's over? Isn't that the million dollar question starring Rod Roddy? What game? Why the game with these great prizes. Not that time is all that great a prize anymore. Not when it's merely time to think of all you have lost. Geesh, my attitude is horrible. I think I will be better in the spring. I know I will be better in the spring. It's just that bleak January is not my time to shine, no way, especially today. I have got to break free of this gloomy mood, but I know it's not going to be today. There is nowhere to go but up. Give me the greenness of spring, give me the gentle rain and the beautiful flowers. Give me the warm sunshine to caress this old heart. I need a reason. I need it so very much, more than anyone outside of my soul could ever know. Only the rare friend, Roman, robot, or stranger who chances upon these words will know the tightrope I have been walking of late. Probably the only sign I show outwardly is maybe I'm a little quieter than I normally am, but that's literally not saying much. I don't go out of my way for idle conversations even on my best days. The person I would have talked to has been gone for two years today, and I sure don't want to waste my time trying to explain myself to anyone else. With her, I didn't have to explain. She is the only human being I've ever known to be on this similar wavelength. She understood because she was fighting many of the same struggles as me. Also, I don't want to be a dreary wet blanket, a buzz kill, and I certainly don't want to be a burden for anyone. That would be worse than this loneliness, far more unbearable than this emptiness. Yes, I need the spring. I know it would help. The beauty and the energy of a warm spring day would do this heart good. It seems I am only now, on this darkest of all days, realizing the full magnitude of my need for a beautiful spring day. I just need to hold on until spring. That's what I need to do. When I asked my earlier question about what I have to look forward to, I think I can answer: Spring. I can look forward to spring. It will never be right, her being gone, but with spring, maybe the renewed life all around me can soothe my heart and ease my pain. Help me, Universe Kenobi. You're my only hope. 

Okay, It seems I have poured out all of my heart and soul into these words. Now that I have thoroughly vented, I can see a ray of sunshine peaking through these figurative storm clouds. I take back nothing that I have said, but I do feel better now that I have unburdened myself here. I know I must sound totally insane, but those were words that needed to be said at least somewhere. I really have nobody to talk to, so whatever robots and strangers who stumble upon these words get to be my honorary friends. Congratulations, strangers and robots! I include Romans, since I don't know anyone from there. So, hooray, everyone! And a big welcome to my circle, honorary friend. If there ever were a day I needed a session with Doctor Blog-ieo, it would be on this day of all days. He's cheap therapy, and he never charges a penny for my thoughts. He doesn't secretly judge me either. On one hand, I don't have to worry about this particular doctor calling the men in white coats to take me away. On the other hand, that also means he can't prescribe happy pills either. Bummer. I need to be on whatever Barney The Dinosaur or half the main characters in Disney movies are on. I mean, who the hell sings all the time? They've gotta be on something good. Yep yep, I'll take a 1930s Snow White mood, please. Guess I'd be singing to the deer instead of cursing them for damn near causing me to get in a wreck yesterday. I'll have whatever she's having. In fact, make it a double. I really need something like that if people out in this world continue to be assholes to me. (Sorry just had something happen to me) (I know the context is missing but can't people pick a different day to be mean?) I got a bit stressed there, got this pain behind my eyes that tells me my blood pressure is running high, so I took an extra metaprolol and downed a few ibuprofen. Now, I'm waiting on it all to take effect. It's the best I can do for now in the way of self care, aside from breathing and trying not to let things get the better of me. This is my world and it's kinda hard to live in it sometimes. It's moments like these that tell me that I was not built for this world, much less this body of mine, but I guess that's a whole other story. Suffice to say that inner stress with added outer stress can sure make a hell out of earth. So, here I am waiting on these blood pressure pills and those headache pills to kick in, purposely breathing slow. This headache is easing and I just feel a bit tired and woozy. It's nothing that my bed can't cure. It will either take me to tomorrow or oblivion, and if I'm being honest, I really don't care which right now. 

(I promise to be better tomorrow)

January Of Discontent

Hello, Universe. It's your one and only, your one of many, your collection of thoughts and feelings bound to this collection of atoms with the slightly off configuration, this total mess that can think and feel and write. But to sum it up, hello Universe, it's me. I really must be part bear. I feel like I could hibernate the months away, mauling any unfortunate soul who dares wake me. Grrrr and all that jazz. Sleep is the only thing that makes everything go away. It is the closest to peace I ever get these days. I must apologize in advance for being so glum. I know it's not exactly the best way to make friends, is it? I did get a bit of good news in the midst of all this dreariness. I am back to full hours at work next week, so maybe my financial situation will finally ease a bit. Here's hoping for a small candle of hope in this bleak, miserable January. I would say it's colder than witches boobs, but I, for one, know they're not cold at all, and Darren Stevens from Bewitched would most certainly agree. Incidentally, Elizabeth Montgomery was a very beautiful woman, but I digress. Sadly, it is still January. To me It feels more like a prison sentence than a month out of the year. Some days really put the suck into Suckuary. Suckuary the worst, also known as the 23rd is closer now. Of all days, I hate the 23rd the most, with a passion. May January, especially the damned infernal 23rd, thaw in the fires of hell. Not that I'd swear to such a place existing. Who needs hell, anyway? Try living on Earth as me these days. It's hellish enough sometimes. January coldness is my hellfire. There are also moments of heaven, when the land greens and the pretty flowers bloom, but in this January bleakness, they're sadly fleeting. Something or someone knocked my mailbox down last night. I was on my way to work and didn't have time to fix it. It looks like somebody ran into it, breaking the post. Guess I'll check after work with the hardware store after work for something affordable. I sure hope it wasn't on purpose. I don't need that sort of stuff going on. This has already been a very stressful month for me. Money is too scarce, and so are hugs. It's overload, too much sensory overload. It's just way too much. I sometimes feel like crying, but I don't have the space or the time. Ever just need a hug? And isn't it sad that I am not of the variety of humans to be on the receiving end of such things? Call me crazy, but I just want to be held, and I am starting not to care by whose arms it is. Yes, I guess this must sound totally insane, even to me sometimes, since I often go back and forth on this lonely/happily alone thing. Such is this all too human need for love and affection. I can Jedi mind trick myself for a while into thinking I don't need it, but the truth shows up out of nowhere like Darth Maul to slice up all my illusions. I might as well try fooling myself into thinking I don't need to breathe. If I start turning blue, I can claim to be a smurf. Papa Smurf, Smurfette, whatever. Speaking of being blue, this is just a tough time of the year for me, unfortunately, still January. The 23rd is still looming, and I am still missing my baby sister terribly. Marsha was my safe person. See, there are no safe places, only safe people. It really is the person who makes the difference. Otherwise, all the refuge in the world will still feel like a prison. Social media is another prison in itself. I really should stay away more. See, at least with this blog, I understand that the chances of these words being read by anyone I know are infinitesimal, microscopic, damn near nonexistent. while it's sad in a way, it's quite liberating in another. It is one thing to feel overlooked because you're kinda hidden. It is quite another to feel ignored in plain sight. Seeking validation there is like returning to a dry well expecting water. Yet I seem to do that sometimes. I find myself in a much better state of mind when I stay away for a few days. As I said somewhere else, spider's web, pitcher plant, it's all the same to an unfortunate fly. It really is a trap, promising validation and friendship, yadda yadda yoda.. But there's nothing there but advertisements, religion, and politics. There is nothing there that I really want. Here is a very different place. Here, the topic and expression is all up to me. Here is nothing but a blank page waiting for my words, a home for my hopes and dreams, my thoughts and feelings. Without it I probably would have truly gone crazy. Okay maybe I still am now, but it would have been a lot more overt, to say the least. If I am going mad, I'd rather do so in private, not in the middle of a crowd, pointing, looking, judging, but never truly seeing me. That is a nightmare that would scare Freddy Kruger shitless. Fred would wish he had (not) stayed in bed. There is a line from Apocalypse Now that I will paraphrase and modify to fit a person like me: Every human being it has their breaking point. I feel mine is nearing and I really need to find ways to avoid it. There is too much riding of my not having a complete breakdown this month. Let me clarify that the worst I will do is melt down into a weepy mess in front of people, embarrassing myself in the process, quitting and going home. No worries people. Peace and love and no harm. I am merely a human being with feelings and under stress. I have my problems with anxiety, depression, and one more word that starts with that letter. Mental health has such a stigma in this world and those crazies on the evening news aren't helping that image. Let me explain. I see my mind like a complicated electrical circuit, and in many ways all minds are. It literally is an electric circuit, though I will now speak figuratively. There are peek times and off-peak times. January is definitely a peek time. So why does everyone around me, especially at work, wanna plug in about fifty figurative hair dryers and then run the AC because 50 hair dryers really heat up a building? You could say I had a figurative breaker trip yesterday. I'll bet it was good and charred and smoking too. The only saving grace was that it was the end of the day, and I was able to get away. Today I was at least alone when it happened again. To this world, I am of that part of the population not allowed to be emotional, and I don't feel up to explaining tears either. Well, I have feelings. I guess I am supposed to, am I? Maybe I could just say I'm allergic to mean people. It's a real downer to feel that nobody at all is rooting for me, more like for the opposing team that wants to see a mentally broken human being. Indifference, I can take. I even understand it. It is usually the most I can hope for. It's not that I am going for visibility here. The less I'm noticed the better. It helps me keep myself together and not get all weepy in front of the normals. I try. Goodness, I try. Nobody could ever know the effort it takes. With a monumental effort, I have managed to hold myself together and stave off this vision of curling into the fetal position on the floor while idiots stare at me like monkeys in a zoo. That is a picture I hope never to see. Sometimes, I think folks confuse attitude with perception. Yes, yes, one affects the other and vice-versa and yadda-Yoda. But how (hypothetically speaking, of course) can a situation that seems doable on Monday seem so dire and hopeless on Tuesday? Through which lens will I see the world tomorrow? Rose red? Deep blue? Hopefully, aquamarine dream. Is this really only a ME thing? It can't be. Seems more a human trait than a sign of losing one's marbles. Mutually exclusive situations? Meh. Sometimes, I feel like I'm losing my mind as well as my cookies. It has been a hell of a day. I'm sure Bonnie Tyler didn't mean an overcompenstor's pickup truck with four bright halogen lights when singing her song. Still, Bright Eyes blinded me on a dirt road where I didn't know where all the washouts from yesterday's storms were. I swear, every now and then, I fall apart. I'm not a doctor, and I don't even play one on TV. Still, concerning myself, I often find it useful to be an armchair Freud. After all, I am a varrrrrry interrrresting caaaaze. I had a heavy, heavy moment this morning. As I was getting ready for work, I accidentally bumped a poster on my wall, and it fell. It was for a play my baby sister was in at TCC, the one play I was able to go see her in all those years ago. The poster was undamaged but, still I kinda freaked. Must be the January effect. January sucks. Penny for your thoughts? Nah, inflation and stuff. Who sets their value? Chances are, if we don't place value on our own thoughts and feelings, nobody else will. Although gratitude toward those who cared but never had to, will always be well placed. How do you feel? Now that is the question. I'm sure nobody wants a Ted Talk from me. Though I guess this blog would be that. Well, more like a therapy session. Sadly, I have not been feeling so good in that aspect of late. Everybody has their struggles, right? Therefore, I will ask only that you be excellent to each other and party on, dudes. Gee, I wish I were in San Dimas 2688 right about now. It seems like a place where not a whole lot of crying goes on. It's probably a place where one could make some friends. Then there are the advancements in medicine and genetics that would certainly interest me. Not to mention the air guitar and the most excellent music. That was some kickass metallic clothing too. I bet I could certainly make the look work well. I would also borrow the telephone booth to go back and save some people that I love. I bet they would rock the look too. All things excellent and most triumphant, nothing bogus or heinous. If there really was a heaven, it would be San Dimas 2688. If there really is a hell, it seems like this place, this time, here and now. I know, I know, drama queen. To hell with it, fine, I will accept the title. I am tired of this play. I want to be left in peace. If they won't understand then they need to leave me alone and let me be. I can't stop anyone from judging the ocean only by its surface. But, what exactly is your world? Is is only what is outside of yourself? Of course not. Your world begins with who you are and how you feel. Well, well, let me state something equally obvious, a truth which also is what it is: Unless you have seen through their eyes, been in their head or felt with their heart, your obvious observations mean obviously jack. I guess I must admit that I too sometimes observe from the outside. The most recent is this poor guy constantly professing his love to this lady who does not seem to share his enthusiasm for their relationship. I mean, they're 'in a relationship' but she has never once responded to his professions. It's funny how the longer I have been removed from certain situations, the more I empathize, even as I relate less and less. I think, that poor dude, I would say she's stringing him along if he wasn't trying his poor heart out to keep up. The naivety of this poor guy is astounding and reminds me of the very different person I used to be. I hate to call it a fool's errand, but it sure looks like he's heading for disaster. Love does funny things to people. It sure enough made me dumb at times. I look back now and wonder how I could have been so stupid. The heart can override the brain sometimes. Love is not blind, but it can blind us all the same. I hope I'm wrong. There have been so many times when I regretted being right. Everybody deserves happiness, love and belonging. Dearest Universe, may we all find it. 

If there is any bright side of this dark cloud is that (luck willing) my state of mind, like the temperature, has only one way to go and that is higher. Next month would have been my mother's birthday, March would make two years for her too so that will be a bit rough. Still other than that, the world will warm and so will my heart. I look forward to the beautiful green and the colorful flowers of spring. Photography is a hobby of mine so I look forward to capturing some of that beauty and wonder. No January has ever outlasted me (yet). Still I have January and especially the 23rd to get through. I am very sorry for the crazy, depressed was I must have sounded in the words above. I just miss my sister. I never knew grief could be a physical illness until I lost her. Nothing in my life, not my divorce, not even the many dearest loved ones I have lost has ever hit me this hard. On one level I can say why, But in so many other ways even I can't understand. She was my sibling by more than merely blood. She was my kindred of the universe, one with the universe, and forever will be the universe. Keep in mind that these are my letters to her. 

This PSA has been brought to you by yours truly and viewers like you.

Part II: Of Stars, Galaxies, And Sisters

 

 It is ten days until the dreaded 23rd. And being I can't seem to get her out of my mind, I thought I would talk a bit about her.

 She was anything but ordinary. There was power in her hopes and dreams, passion in her many fandoms. My baby sister never merely followed fads, fashion or trends. If she was a fan or an enthusiast, she not only put her devotion into whatever it was, she was also a fan for life. Together, we had the Beatles, The Nightmare Movies, Futurama, Star Trek, and many more shows, movies, and artists in common. She also was a big fan of soap operas, and had encyclopedic knowledge of I Dream Of Jeannie, The Sims, Nancy Drew, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, and Reba McEntire. And I am just broaching the surface here. So that's number one, she was a loyal fan who stayed true to what she loved. Secondly, she always stood up for the people she cared for. I remember several times in my life when she most certainly had my back. My little sister, having been born premature, was a woman small in stature, but you didn't want to mess with the people she loved. There were a couple times when I worried she might get herself in trouble by making a few things well known to some people who had hurt me. I felt worried, but I also felt loved. How many other people on this earth would charge into Hades and curse out the devil and B-slap a few demons on my behalf? Not only did my baby sister stand behind her fandoms, she stood behind the people she loved. She also went after her hopes and dreams, poured out her soul onstage, and earned a Bachelor's Degree at FSU. She also had her struggles, and we had a few of those in common. There were several demons we fought side by side. We were each other's crisis hotlines. The phone call would start with one of us in the grips of anxiety, or just needing someone to listen, with the other one of us being that ear and strangely knowing the right words to say. How, I don't know, just our similar wiring, I guess. That same phone call would end much more upbeat with us just chatting about whatever, laughter and smiles replacing the tears. You know it is very difficult to sum up my sister in a few words. My baby sister, one with the universe for two years now. If the closest star is four light years away, I still have another two years of every star in the sky shining her life, and a lifetime of lighting the way in her name. It is not the same as her being here, and I am not the same without her. All the above would be my reply to the question, "Who was Marsha?" Still it feels inadequate. She was one of the greatest human beings I have ever known. It just feels wrong to end this text here, so I won't. Instead I am going to talk about some of my favorite memories of my baby sis. Be prepared to hear me ramble. I guess I am getting old because I have some rambling stories to tell. But, I really want everybody to know this wonderful soul, this sibling not only of biology, but of the universe. I miss you, Sis. Words can never convey how empty my world is without you. 

 

I know I may have told some of these stories before, but these are memories I like to go back to when I can, so why the hell not? Flashback: 1989 or so.... I had just installed some subwoofers in my 1981 Buick Regal and I had the Enterprise D bridge background sounds on cassette tape. You could hear all the bleeps and blips, but those subwoofers really brought out the sound of the warp engines. To be in my car sounded like being on the Enterprise. So, there we were in my parent's yard, my sister and I, sitting in my car, totally immersed in the sound when a cat jumped up on the hood of my car. Marsha said, "Captain, there is a cat approaching." To which I replied, " On screen!" and then said cat walked up closer to the windshield and we said, "Magnify!" I may be nerdy, but that was the coolest trek moment ever. There was this Celtic Festival we went to in 2004, with badass Scottish dudes to whom you dared not comment on their kilts, and there was bagpipe music and cool drums to go with them. I made my sister laugh out loud when I said, "Hey! That's Rowdy Roddy Piper's Theme!" The axe throwing event was cool but made me kinda want to duck. And that log throwing event reinforced my aversion to picking any fights with those guys. Not that I would have anyway as that was one of the coolest things I had ever seen. They were throwing logs that I couldn't even pick up off the ground like Frisbees. It was a really awesome time. Then there was the time we watched "Revenge Of The Sith" brand new when it came to Tallahassee in 2005. Yep, we got to see Anakin Skywalker turn into Darth Vader! The next was going with her to see the Broadway play, "Avenue Q" when it also came to Tallahassee. She had originally seen it in New York with the original cast. It is a totally hilarious parody of sesame street and as she recommended it to me all those years ago, I now recommend it to you. You will totally laugh your socks off! Holiday memories are also very treasured ones. I'll never forget that talking Captain Picard I got her for Christmas one year. I knew right away that I had chosen wisely. On many a fourth of July, my little sister was right there with me in my fireworks antics, an equal participant in my pyrotechnics. It wasn't just those little bitty bundled firecrackers but also those big red ones that could absolutely destroy a soda can. We were like Wile E. Coyote, only with better luck and no living creature harmed aside from a few ants. We were a demolition team. I remember us playing WinBrick 95 on my old computer while listening to the Beatles. I remember all those crazy voice impressions we used to do on tape. I remember a six hour tape of Beetlejuice recorded from Fox28 that we'd watch over and over. Ditto for my first copy of The Dreammaster, the only Freddy movie I had at the time, and how we would parody the soundtrack. I have often since thought of the many similarities between her and the main character of that movie, Alice Johnson, especially how she became an absolute warrior for the people she cared about. I remember the many hours of her watching me play Phoenix on the Atari 2600, and how we'd make VHS tapes where the video consisted of Atari games and the soundtrack was just my music CD's. Remember how the robot in Berserk started walking to the tune of Ozzy's "I AM IRON MAN!"?  That was awesome. The last good memory was after I had grown out my hair, how we were confusing her cat by our similar genetics, she on one side of the counter, myself on the other, and each saying "Hello There!" With the cat trying to figure out who was the imposter. I used to joke that if she ever became an action movie actress that I could be her stunt double for that two second scene of her crashing through the wall of the villain's lair. {CRASH!} Our hero would be suddenly a bit taller and a bit broader for those two seconds then back to herself. In the very last photograph ever taken with us in it, A picture of we three siblings together, we did the whole 'Wonder Twins Unite!' joke. Sadly, the last happy memory was not the very last memory. Ten days from now, two years ago. It is one of the many memories I wish I could erase from my brain. The only comfort I can even half take is the hope that maybe she knew I was there at the end. That is the way I try to frame it. I held her hand and she squeezed back. She must have known. Damn it. No matter how I try to frame it, it still hurts like hell. It doesn't matter if it has been two days or two years. Friends, I guess I just feel lost. I know it's been two years, but I'm still having a very difficult time. I am not looking for people to feel bad for me or anything like that. What would really be the point? I also know I am not the only person to have lost somebody they love. It is an unfortunate part of life. Still, I hate it. If death were a person, I would most certainly slug him one. Just because this is not unique to me, should I not feel the way that I do? And if the experience is not unique, Marsha certainly was. If I seem like I am withdrawn, it is because I have a lot of things going on in my mind that I am trying to process. I do my best not to push my feelings on others, especially those who either don't know, and certainly those who wouldn't care. Even in saying this, I do not mean to slam anyone. A lot of the time the simple reason people are not invested in me, my emotions, or my troubles is because they are fighting their own battles and dealing with their own pain. Nobody knows what it's like to be them and nobody knows what it is like to be me. In some ways we are alone, forever and ever amen. But, in our lives, there is often that rare person who truly knows, truly understands, truly gets us. When you lose such a person, you can lose a lot of yourself. It is ten days until that day of all days, that dreaded 23rd. I will spend that day out in the world, trying to make it through. No, I don't want people to feel bad for me, but I do wish they would give me the space and the time I need to get my mind together. There is no pause, no rewind. There is only space and time and the very universe that she is one with. There is nothing that I can do but try to make it through, to do my absolute best to remain a functional human being out in the world. Some days I can sail through just fine. Some days are just not so easy. I have had a couple of recent days when my figurative circuit breakers overloaded. I was lucky both times. The first time was at the end of the day so I was able to get away. The second time I was alone, quite lucky enough that nobody saw. Look, I wear my heart on my sleeve. I always have. I have always been a bit too emotional for the mold society wants me to fit. (But that's a whole other TED Talk.) (Though a contributing factor nonetheless). It's not that I am ashamed either, just that I know that it would be badly misinterpreted. I have this nightmare image of breaking down in front of people and being stared at like a monkey in a zoo.  But again, this particular rambling is not supposed to be about me. Still it seems I am experiencing two kinds of grief when it comes to my sister. There is this selfless grief when I think of what her future should have been, of all of her hopes, plans, and dreams, of all the things she wanted to accomplish, of a life that was cut far too short. Then there is this selfish grief where I think about what it means no longer having her in my life, my advocate, my guardian, my warrior, that phone number I could call any time I needed somebody to listen and to understand.  The former is about everything that was taken from her. The latter is about all that was taken from me at the same time. What is weird is I often have difficulty separating these two feelings. 

 

There are no right words to end this post, no way to bookend this wall of text or to summarize all of these thoughts and feelings going around and around in my head. I know the world does not stop. I know the feelings do not end when I close this out and press the publish button. I know life goes on and other people have their own troubles. I know that I have to go on, even when I really don't want to. I do not want the world to feel bad for me. However, to spare a thought for this extraordinary human being, this strong, kind, beautiful person who cared so deeply for her friends, for all the people that she loved, who followed her dreams as best she could, who saw so much more in me than I could ever see in myself. Think of her. Remember her.  The only thing worse than her sudden absence is any thought of the memory she left behind ever fading away. I just could not bear it. There is no full realization of how much of yourself is reflected in those that you love until they are no longer here. It's not only my baby sister that I have lost, but one major aspect of myself. A word has no meaning without a definition. The same is true for a human being.

Stormy January

  

Dearest Universe and Dearest Dearies,

How goeth the planets and things? How goes life? Are you missing someone you love? Are you lonely, and does this world so full of people still seem empty in all the ways except for the one way you wish it were? If you said yes to any of these, I am sending you my love at the very moment you read these words. May your orbits take you to the places you wish to be and amongst the friends you want to see. Sadly, there are very few places in my part of the world to seek solace or validation, especially if you realize you're not one of those normals we keep hearing about. Certainly not online, either. It has all gone wrong somehow. What I miss most on those social media places is when people expressed themselves, spoke for themselves, shining brightly in their beautiful quirkiness. I met a lot of cool people that way. Yes, quirks and quarks are the most awesome traits ever! Don't get me wrong. Parrots are colorful and hang out with pirates. Robots from droids to cylons to Bender Bending Rodriguez are awesomely cool. But political parrots and those robots who comment on public posts are lame. Now we gotta determine if someone is real or not before we talk to them. Bummer, man. Now, in advance, I must ask for your forgiveness if I get a bit dark and glum in places. I honestly don't want to feel that way, talk that way, or write that way. But it is January once again, and the 23rd is looming. I just cannot help thinking of Marsha and that horrible day that I lost her. I can see her, can almost feel her hand in mine as I watched her slip away. I'm just not a fan of January. It's not merely the gloominess or the cold. It's memories of 2009 and 2022. They say it's only a calendar made by humans. (I personally think the year should start with either April showers or May flowers) I will try my best to be positive, but my efforts like the flowers will bloom far better in the spring. It's not like I'll stop trying, but... yeah. I hate January with so much passion. Losing Marsha was just the giant tree that fell on the poor camel's back. January is and has always been cold, gloomy, dreary, and just a plain miserable time of the year. Marsha died on January 23, 2022. That was the absolutely worst day of my life. 2009 was the previously reigning champion. My ex-wife left me on the last day of 2008, so that particular January was a horrible memory, too. Do you know how much I owe my life to my kids? I was distraught. I was in so much pain, the most pain of my life up till then. (Losing my sister was way worse) I was thinking some heavy thoughts brought to you by the letter S. I was so tired of hurting, so tired of crying. I just wanted oblivion and the peace that comes with it. But my kids still needed me to be their parent, to show them love and provide for their needs. It would have been wrong to leave them all alone. I didn't keep living for me. I kept living for them, and for the people in this world that still loved me, who I would never want to cause pain. I know my sister. Losing me would have hurt her just as much as losing her has hurt me. It's two years on, and I'm still crying. And when I feel this coldness in my bones, when I look out and see that gloomy grey sky, all these bad memories come back with a vengeance. So if I happen to say, "Fuck January!" just know I have some deep reasons why. To hell with January and the frozen horse it rode in on. Now, my dear mother used to say to me that I should say nothing at all if I didn't have anything pleasant to say, But you know the only way for me to get it out of my head is onto this page. Then there is my internal struggle that I have dared not speak directly about. I know there are people out there who would totally understand what I'm going through, but not in my neck of the woods. Definitely not here. These are the things I know for sure: Food makes the hunger go away, Friends make the lonely go away, and sleep? Sleep makes it all go away at least for a while. Beyond that, There are things one can never understand until they stop being an abstract concept and become ultra-personal reality. And it stops being silly or weird when it starts being you. And the kicker? Pretending something does not exist does not make it go away. Be careful with labels and assumptions. They can boomerang. I wonder if my long awaited, long dreaded moment of decision has finally arrived. See, the heavy thoughts have returned. I chased them away five years ago by finally admitting to myself a truth about my inner wiring and soul and taking a few minor steps to make myself feel better about the jarring difference without and within. I had forgotten what true happiness felt like until the following days, weeks, and months. To smile and to laugh, even when it seemed like my world was otherwise falling apart. Now I have reached that figurative edge, The Rubicon, that point of no return. The moment of decision. But what is the actual choice before me? Guess that's what will be marinating in this old brain until I can put it into words. Until then, my friends, all I can say is I may have something to say, or I may completely disappear without a word or a trace. Tightrope walking has never been my speed, man. It's not gonna be a career either. Meanwhile back here on Earth, It seems everything changes but what I want to change. Things go on as they have. I go on as I have, too, though there have certainly been small changes that I most definitely approve of. I fear I will never quite make it to where I want to be, but that's a another topic altogether. I honestly wish I could (As in my earlier words) turn spacetime inside out and step through. I wonder if the inside would out and the outside in? Wouldn't it be wonderful to see my soul finally shine? In this January chill, such things seem farther away than ever. I feel this coldness in my bones and in my soul. Give me spring. I remember a nice spring day I had the windows down in my car, stopped at a stop sign, when I did something totally out of character for shy, introverted me: I looked to my left and in true Obiwan style, said "Hello, there!" to a lovely lady who happened to be walking by. I don't think she was impressed. But, since she didn't respond with "General Kenobi! You are a bold one!", neither was I. How's that for a random thought? I am pretty good at those, aren't I? Speaking of driving, please be careful on the roads this morning. I almost had Bambi's mum as a hood ornament. And "Oh, Deer!" Was not what I shouted as I slammed on my brakes. Anyhooo, seems I'm still alive and still me, so wachy'all say, world? I survived round one of the 2024 demolition derby championship rasslin' and I need a cool theme to play loudly as I make my way to the ring. Hello world, it's a me! Are we ready ready Freddy? I'm not, but here I go anyway, whoohoooo! Note to self for future reference: Do not put soda in one of those flimsy plastic water bottles. I just had one go off on me like a defective rocket, somewhere between a champagne bottle popping and one of those old M80s going off. Sodapop? Nah. Sodaboom. I prefer my showers to be non carbonated thank ya very much. Oh, well. So, looky looky, what do we have here? It looks like social media ads are apparently trying to sell me booze and happy pills this morning. Geez, am I really that bad? Wait. Don't answer that. Better yet, tell me a sweet fable. I have always been of the opinion that it is good to know stuff, that the soul thrives and the spirit sings far better in an endless universe than in a fishbowl world. How can a universe be so empty yet so full of beauty and wonder? What is it like to realize there are places so far away that we could never even see them, much less reach them? Why must we look so far into the mystery for what should be no farther from home than ones own heart? Why? Because we are human and that's what we humans do. It is also what I happen to like most about us. The mysteries of space and time boggle the mind, but the mysteries of the heart? Now that's a science worth investigating. We can't all be a beam of light, boldly going and brightly shining, but I'd like to think it's possible. Ignorance is only bliss if you never plan on going anywhere. I may be a fish out of water. I may be a human being out of my time and maybe I'm out of my place too. But... Hey, that's me and being me is what I do best. And I keep getting better at it everyday. Stay tuned Universe and put on your seat belt for goodness sake! We're setting out at Ludicrous Speed and leaving expectations in the dust. Now, they're advertising golf balls in my feed. Look at me. Nooooo. Really look at me. Do I look like I play golf? Ralph and Ed know golf better than me. The only entertainment I get from golf is when they miss and get mad. Though it's not as funny as tennis. McEnroe's tantrums were legendary, especially when it looked like Conners was about to slug him one. Do you really want to play all 18 holes? Why you don't have the balls for that! Sorry, couldn't resist. Advertisements are bad enough. But you don't have to be an ad company to be pushing and peddling nonsense to people who don't want it. Look, people are free to believe whatever they want to, but Moses forgot that third tablet with commandments 11 and 12, "Thou shalt mindeth thine own damn business" and "Thou shalt not pusheth thine religion on others". Religion and politics, religion and politics, what a load. I have nothing against religion or religious people. If faith is something that helps you get through life, then more power to you. What I am against is when people push their belief on others. This is not the remote Amazon, nor inland Borneo. And I have a feeling that even the people in the most remote places have heard that spill more than once. If it makes you jump for joy, great. But I happen to agree to the comparison of religion to a certain anatomical member. It is okay to be proud, but keep it in your britches, and for science sake, not everybody wants it waved in their face. Let me be blunt. I don't login for a damn sermon. Oh, share this stupid post about Jesus and/or America because it might get banned. Bullshit. Only in my freaking dreams does such blind nonsense get banned. Freedom of speech is for everyone even the religious. I actually wish they would ban preaching and politicking, or at least have a place where one can be peacefully away from it. But I know I'm in the minority and in more ways than one. It would certainly make social media a much better place in my point of view. Instead, that bullshit is everywhere. Let's flood social media with the mark of the orange haired beast that we wander after, awe and kneel before and loudly shout our ancient superstitions before they get banned. Holy crap, for the love of science! The dark ages weren't called the dark ages for nothing, and don't get me started on the Salem trials. If I were a real witch, I'd turn them all into frogs. Ribbit Ribbit! Wow, I guess I am a bit passionate about this. They claim to be the ones who are persecuted and silenced when they themselves oppress others. Believe me, it is much harder being a nonbeliever. They want to apply their religious standards to everyone. Then they want to suppress and slander those that don't see the world their way. It is my honest belief that at the end of the day human beings are human beings. We all need food, oxygen, water, love, and understanding. And love need not be invisible. There is no substitute for any of these things. Religion tries to supplant both love and understanding, binding it to their worldview. Who needs the love of a human when you have God? Again, bullshit! Why eat food when you can just believe in the flying spaghetti monster? Trust in him and you will never starve. If you do so anyway, you can dwell forever in the spaghetti kingdom. This is not only stupid, but it's harmful too. For these reasons and more, I gladly and proudly take the title of an honorary witch. Now, I know some would ask if I meant warlock. No, I did not. Behold the golden broomstick. The Great Oz has spoken! Pay no attention to that human behind the curtain! By the power of the enchanted skull that I hold in my hand, let it be done! Let the zanies rant about football instead, although I'm not a fan of that, either. How can somebody's week be made or broken by a group of athletes that they don't even know? Win or lose, we're not going to be invited to party with the cheerleaders, are we? Boom, tough actin tinactin. Ace is the place for me. This game is brought to you by Ass Insurance. Is your ass in good hands? [whistle] [flag thrown] "Prior to the snap, number 9 offense, Making a pass without throwing the ball, 5 yards, still first down." Okay I'm being silly and at least they're not trying to convert me to footballism. Social media has fallen such a long way. I miss the old days. I miss MySpace. Marsha got me started on MySpace. Then, you have these social media couples. Now. I dont really mind them. Actually, they're kinda sweet. Maybe I'm a little jealous. But as sickeningly sweet as I find lovey dovey posts on social media, I guess I can kinda understand wanting to shout it out loud when one has a good thing going. But the ones that appear unrequited? Look, I'm just a spectator these days, but at least give them a heart back. Look, I know most folks are content following politics, football, and political football. Not me, pal. Not my thing. Give me "One Life To Post," "As The Zuckerberg Turns," "The Phonescreen Light," and "Memes Of Our Lives." And with that, how about a nice clean cup move down? Going so soon? I wouldn't hear of it. Why my little party's just beginning! Hee hee hee hee hee! How about a little fire, scarecrow? I'd fly away on a broom, but none of them have automatic transmissions. Don't get me wrong, I can operate a four on the floor but not a scandal on a handle.