Cosmic Wie Returns To Space

Hello There! 

Universe Kenobi!!  You are a bold one.

Seriously, I miss you. I swear my mind is a totally strange place. How did I begin this? You are one with the universe. Therefore, you are the universe. The next added layer seems to be equating you to Obiwan? Well, he's a good Jedi, no doubt. But we're more like Anakin and Ahsoka, in my opinion. Oh, well. Another week, another rambling. Here I go again. Reality is a hell of a thing, especially when one spends most of their time in a daydream. I have a very sweet dream. Reality is the bitter aftertaste. It may be an all new round of mind vs. heart. Those inner conflicts are always quite the fun-house ride. I say to myself to follow your heart but use your brain. Fine advice. But, what do you do when each is pulling you in opposite directions? Yes, emotion vs. logic. The heart doesn't give a damn about the odds and cares even less for the situation. Sis, I think you would approve of her. The way our personalities go together like peanut butter and jelly, I think you would have been friends. But it's the situation and the circumstances. Both hers, and mine. I know I'm only dreaming, and I seriously doubt it's a two-way dream. Hearts hallucinate, as Jewel Kilcher sings. And mine might as well be Timothy Leary right now. My heart is tripping. My mind is, on the other hand, quite sober. It's just a Jedi mind trick that gets me through some lonely days. Nights, I can sleep away, but days are another matter. Once upon a time, I believed I could fix everything, just charge in and solve every problem. In my naivety, I truly believed I could. Maybe too many stories with happy endings filling my head, too many unlimited possibilities filling my heart. When in reality, I had several unsolved problems of my own. So, the logic being that if I can not fix everything of my own, there is no possibility of superhero-ing my way through someone else's. So, in the end, after so much tragedy, after so much heartache, I realized that I have only two powers: the power to listen and the power to care. They may not be superpowers, but I shall give them everything I've got. See, in this crazy, real world, nobody is the rescuer all the time. In this imperfect but deep reality, we tend to take turns rescuing one another. And maybe, this is how it should be. Nothing says I love you, nothing says I trust you, quite like "I'm not afraid to be human in your presence." I sometimes still wish I could be that hero, that knight, charging into your rescue with a flashy film star grin. It breaks my heart that I can't always be that. Yet it's kinda poetic that we rescue each other like that. And rescuer or rescued, You will always be a hero to me. I am generally not a jealous person, or at least that's what I would like to believe. With maybe this one exception: It kinda-sorta grinds my freaking gears to see those who show a clear lack of appreciation for what many of us out here on the perimeter would damn near sell our souls for. Do not curse your winning lottery ticket, your lucky break, or your significant other who brings so much more to the table than just themselves. They're like a dummy in the middle of a desert complaining about the water that sustains them. How did that song by Steely Dan go? "You wouldn't know a diamond if you held it in your hand, the things you think are precious, I don't understand." But, maybe I should also say I am done with this world and its stupid games. 

When I say to somebody I care about, "I want you to be happy." or "I hate to see you so sad." It isn't just an altruistic statement. See, it seems the stronger my caring, the more strongly I feel whatever they feel right along with them. I swear it's like a strong signal on an adjacent wavelength to my own crossing over and taking over. Believe me, it's no fun at all. And it's not like I do this on purpose. In fact, there have been times I wished I was like Commander Data from Star Trek. Who hasn't wished for an off switch? I always say follow your heart but use your brain, but it's kinda complicated when they each want to go in opposite directions. So much for this grandly designed life. Here I am, a soul in the hell of loneliness, finding an equally lonely soul that I wish I could be one for. Yet, since I genuinely care for her, I would rather things get better in her current life, even if that happening would leave me as empty as I ever was. She loves someone. I see that love and the hurt in her eyes. Damn it, I feel it in my heart. Damn this messed up brain and these feelings I can't help but have for this beautiful soul. Life has to be a punishment. And I have to say, it is uber effective. If some invisible sky guy really wants me in hell, well, it seems I am already there. I wish I could be the one to make her happy. But I know in my heart that if a certain somebody would get off their sorry ass and give her the love, appreciation, and belonging she damn well deserves, that would be best for her. I'll still be out here on the perimeter, cold and alone, but at least I would have only my own pain to feel and the thought of her happiness to maybe comfort me. Damn it. I hate this life. Okay, I admit it. I love her. That's one hell of a thing to say, given the circumstances, but there's no sense denying it. It has been many years, but I still know what it's like to love someone, to care for their feelings more than my own. Yet so many things are freaking impossible. Everything in my head may be a delusion for all I know, but my feelings are very much real. And just as a mature Philip J. Fry once said, "I want what's gonna make her happy, more than me." Yep. Life sucks and then you die. I don't know whether the latter is an added curse or a saving grace. Oh well, at least I still have the promise of Oblivia and her loving embrace. The beautiful goddess of oblivion will quite literally take away all of my pain. I have been thinking about it a lot, perhaps an unhealthy amount. I wonder if a hopeless desert is better without this taste of love and belonging without the dream of being held with love? Would no hope at all be better than this achingly beautiful dream of finally coming home to someone? I wonder as I wander through this life. I am tired. I am ready for either a change for the better or a merciful end. I am just so damn sick of everything. Look, I have to vent somewhere, and really, these days, this is the only place I can. This blog is the duct tape and gorilla glue for my mental health. It all comes out here instead of out in the world. It might not be a permanent cure, but it's all I have for now. 

Universe, universe, universe. Please forgive me for the following confusion. Sometimes my mind speaks. Sometimes my heart talks. Just think of this as yet another storm of the mind, and just take anything from here on out with a grain of salt the size of the Empire State Building. Thank you. Now let us begin. My dear special friend, my beautiful special friend. My heart goes out to you. There is so much. I wish I could say. You are the island of light in my days. Did you know that? Today was maybe the first time I have truly laughed out loud in weeks. It was also the first time I saw your smile in a while. Everything is just better when you're around. What is it about you that brings me out of this gloominess simply by your presence? Am I in love? Is that the word for these feelings I have for you? Or is it that there's something that may be wrong with me? After all. I have been feeling quite down and lonely of late, and maybe it's just that you are the only person I know that can so easily chase those feelings away and fill me with such happiness just by being there? Hearts do hallucinate, man do they ever. Could it be me? The last thing I would ever want to do is ruin this good thing I seem to have going. Your friendship means a lot to me. You.... mean a lot to me. I would practically sell my soul just to be in the shoes of the one you love so much. I would know to appreciate everything you are, everything that you do. I would shower you with the love and respect I know you deserve. Maybe it really is just me, a mirage, a fever dream, but it seems my caring for you continues to strengthen every day. I guess I've got to live with these feelings. I could never call them wrong or misplaced. You deserve to be loved. And of course you are. It just happens to be by me. This is a picture of the thoughts that circle my brain. These are the things I manage not to say. I guess hiding love and affection is better than hiding hatred or malice, right? I will only actually say anything when and if it is ever appropriate. Social anxiety combined with having this intense crush is sure to make for smooth talking, right? Right? Right? I guess it doesn't matter anyway. Like I said, it's just a daydream. Friendship is important too, you know. And there are things we can't simply make happen. It's either there or it's not. I am not so far gone that I can't grasp this simple truth. A lot of this is just me in a lot of ways. I'm just Jedi mind tricking myself. That's all it is. Maybe if the fates and the gods and the spirits or whatever will someday have mercy on me. Either by granting me the love and belonging I need so much, or just by taking me out completely. It is getting to the point where I really don't care which. It's just so long as this ends. Either way, my main wish is happiness for my special friend. 

So it is simply time for Major Tom to come back to earth and to know my place in it. It can sometimes be an empty place indeed. This world is so full of people, but it often feels empty, lonely. I don't mind these long days, if I could simply come home each evening. This empty falling down house is just not a home to me. The only thing I can look forward to is sleep. But sleep unfortunately ends. I must wake up and go again. It would be okay if there were at least one human being who cared about my day, who might even look forward to seeing me again. I have spent so many years of my life trying to do what's right. It hasn't gotten me anywhere. Maybe I have three sons who care for me and appreciate that I was there for them as a parent should be. Once, I had a baby sister who believed in me more than I believed in myself, who didn't seem to mind that I'd go crying to her about this shit-show of a life. At least, I once had a best friend. Really, nobody could ever fill those shoes. It just would not be possible. You've gotta be wired similarly to me to really understand. And such a person just probably does not exist. I care for my friend very deeply, but I am probably in love with an ideal image that is only in my mind. And it would be most unfair for me to superimpose that image on a friend. I want this person to have what will make them happy, even if it is not an answer to my own dreams. That's what love is supposed to be about, caring for another more than ourselves. And this is why I must come down to earth. I have since considered deleting all this rambling above. But, I still want these letters to be the truth of my thoughts and feelings. And it seems, regardless of the situation, facts, possibilities, or the lack thereof, my feelings for this person run deep. Even if everything else is a delusion, my feelings are real. I just love this person, and I can't really change the way I feel. Maybe time will bring clarity as I try to get on with my life. Hearts hallucinate. Jewel was definitely right to say so. It seems my heart gets higher than Snoop Dogg, then falls to earth like Wile E Coyote. And it's nobody's damn fault but my own. Why do I keep doing this to myself. It's so stupid. It's like I set myself up to come crashing down. What am I, some kind of masochist? Really? Just what in the hell is wrong with me? I should really know better. Wait. I actually do know better. But it's the mind and heart thing. This battle between mind and heart is leaving the land in ruins, And I just so happen to be the land. And this heart could give a damn about logic, reason, or knowing better. I guess it's really no good to try and solve anything. I'm not a hero. I can't be Mister Fix-It for anybody else if I can't even get my own damn ducks in a row. Everything's just fucked and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. Who wants to feel helpless, hopeless, with no way out but one? What kind of an existence is this? Nothing. It is just nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing that will matter to anyone outside of this mind and heart. Nothing. Fucking impossible. I guess I might as well wait to rebuild myself after I fall apart. Because this is really all my own fault. The problem is that there are many situations far easier to fall into than fall out of. I guess that's why they call it falling. It is not so easy to escape while still having breath left. Damn it. Just what is wrong with me. I am so sick of everything. This has nothing to do with anyone else. Help me, Universe Kenobi. You are all the hope that ever was. Sometimes it seems like a choice: Do I want to read the news headlines to feel more depressed, or should I take it to a personal level and let the social media vortex suck the life-force out of me? Which way, human? Pick your poison. Which way do I wanna feel bad? Do I want to see the waste of a million human lives, or do I want to focus on the depressing facts about my own life? Which way, outwardly or inwardly? Friends, once you start down certain paths, there is no turning around. As Yoda might say, forever will they dominate your destiny. There is always the morning you leave home for the very last time, and I am not just talking physically. Home is not a geographical location alone. It is a place and time and the people you love. When the time and the loved ones are gone, you can never again come home. Sometimes there is no going back. Not now and not ever. You just don't always know when it is the last time, the final time. 

I have long used writing to try and sort out all of these thoughts and feelings. However, I will never make the claim my writings are not just as irrational as my feelings are. When I say Cosmic Wie's going to space, It means I have taken off on another one of my tangents. You, my dearest friends, Romans, Robots, and strangers can come along on these great adventures. Just be sure to sign the waiver before you climb aboard. I am a mess. Social anxiety, general anxiety, depression, and the serious flaw of wearing my heart on my sleeve, and my emotions on my face. I try to channel as much as I can into these words so i don't make a total fool of myself out in the world. But I guess I've got to do this somewhere, so here I am. Even if something is supposedly only in my mind, that's where my heart lives. I do my best to see things though other eyes, but that's only my best guess. My entire world is my mind, or at least seen and felt through the lens of my thoughts and feelings. Like I said, my feelings are quite real. If I could dismiss them too, as a delusion, maybe I would be better off. But I simply can't. They're a part of me that if taken out of me, would leave behind a totally different person. My feelings are real because I am real. And there is really no right or wrong in our feelings, just in what we do with them. I try to channel them into these words to maybe sort out later, and generally to get them out of my head, if I can. What I can't channel here, I do my best to channel out in the world in a positive way. If I love somebody I try to help them in anyway I can. If I have empathy and compassion, I try to do something that maybe shows those feelings. I keep a close watch on myself to make sure I don't start gushing or blubbering like an idiot. (Out in the world, mind you) (I know I have done that here already in my above ramblings)  (Gotta do this somewhere) Sometimes I think the only way to stay sane (relatively speaking) is to go crazy once in a while. It's not the only paradox I have encountered in my life. It's a paradox, not a pair of Docs putting me in a weird jacket. Though if the professionals ever read through this stuff, they just might. Kidding! (At least I hope I am). (I am Napoleon and I demand a room with a view). Actually, this is how I keep my head together. Once I come back from my little journeys here, I am relatively back to my old self. Good 'ol Doctor Blog-ieo. You sure can't beat his prices, can you? 

A Galactic Star Pilot's Return To Earth.

Good Morning, Universe.

I have finally arrived. How? Well, over on Twitter I am now being followed by fake Elon Musk. (If he were real, I'd be like, "Hey, Elon, buddy oh pal, could I borrow a few million dollars?") Sorta related but not really: There is a line (Not really a line because it's true) and it goes something like this: "Whatever it is about you that makes me forget my troubles, laugh and cut up, grin like an idiot, and feel like I do not have a care in this world, if I could bottle it, I'd be richer than Elon. Then maybe we could get out of this place, huh?" It may not be as creative as falling angels or space pants or forgetting my phone number and needing to borrow yours, but hey, it's not all that bad, is it?  Ah, but really maybe I am not awake yet.  Attention, Ground Control to Major Tom, It's time to return to Earth. I hope the weather's pretty today. It would seem a bit therapeutic to just get lost in a beautiful spring day. Of course, a rainy day can be beautiful, the sound of falling rain is like a soothing lullaby. I guess I can be happy with either. Have you ever stood right on the edge, feeling the slow caress of the breeze, staring deeply into the distance, trying to make out the distant shapes on the other side? Have you ever felt so alive as you did that day? I am not sure why or how or even what it was, but I woke up this morning feeling better than I have in days. I guess I needed that, whatever it was. It feels like some sort of poison was finally cleansed from my body. I feel almost human again. I hope this trend continues. When I'm energetic and confident, I can handle whatever comes my way, and will fear the unknown a bit less, when I feel I have the strength and the agency to face it. Life is full of firsts and lasts, some good, some bad, some light, others heavy on my shoulders. The last time I saw you, the first day of all my remaining days without you. There are no happy endings, only beginnings, middles, and memories. I think about you every single day. The only last I can predict is that my final thought of you will coincide with my last breath. The lesson, if anything, is that it's not enough to know how much you treasure the most loved people in your life. You've gotta understand that there are no promises for tomorrow. Make that phone call. Make that trip. Make some plans. Tell them how much you love them. Tell them often. It is far better than saying these words silently to yourself years later. I know I said these things, but I feel I could have said them a lot more.

Anyway, after that six hour food foraging mission, I didn't do anything but sleep the rest of that day, and a good part of the next day, too. I guess I just had run on empty for too long and simply had no choice but to pass out. Now, because of this, I find myself behind on all the things I need to do. Today, after work, I hope to do some catching up. Once again, it's like my off button got inadvertently pressed. I honestly feel old and tired, and I feel like I could sleep forever. Speaking of this, I heard some very outlandish claims in a YouTube video the other day. Live another ten years, and you'll live forever. First of all, that's crazy. I seriously doubt technology in the 21st century is going that far. Secondly, if it does, there will be many years such technology will only be in reach for the super rich fat cats. People like me will continue to keel over. Thirdly, I am not sure I want to live forever. I don't want to cry every day for a thousand years, much less a billion, much less an eternity. Oblivia, that beautiful, merciful goddess of oblivion awaits me, and she's going to rescue me someday. I will not spend eternity watching my world slowly disintegrate, in a body that constantly betrays me. I will not spend eternity in loneliness, pining, begging for what I know can never be. I will not spend forever being denied the basic right to be my true self. I can resign myself to a few more years, even decades, but not forever. Not unless a multitude of things drastically change. Give me strength, power, and the agency to change these things that have been torturing my soul for so long. And more importantly, give me myself to the point where I will never feel compelled to hide away again. Otherwise, no thanks. I'll take my chances with oblivion. I'm sick of this hopelessness and futility, of loneliness and this cold emptiness. I am sick of merely existing and not actually living. I want to feel alive, loved, wanted, even needed. Such feelings could transform eternity from a grim sentence to a wonderful, beautiful gift. What would it be like to dwell in such joy, such happiness, such love and belonging? I wish I could know such rapture. Sadly, it is beyond my vision beyond my reach. Help me, Oblivia One Kenobi. You're my only hope. Rescue me. Save me. Take me away from this place of insanity. Yes, this re-entry from cloud 9 is pretty damn rough. It is the kick I give myself for my own good. Still, it hurts. Damn, does it hurt. I guess it's a less painful, more controlled fall to earth when I initiate it myself. It could have been worse had my bubble burst on its own. It hurts like hell, but it's better this way. It will save me from making a total fool out of myself. At least this way, it's all internal, invisible, impossible for others to see. My words here will be the only window to this storm in my soul. Nobody else will know. Nobody else can ever know. The elements, the chaos, and this storm can only be in my mind, only for me. I guess to be figuratively invisible isn't always a bad thing. It can be a good thing if the would-be attention is negative. The kid in school would prefer to be invisible to the bully. The soldier in the field would prefer to be invisible to the enemy. And in some workplaces, the least visible you are, the better off you will be. And if toxic people are all blind to you, I would count that as a blessing. But to feel as if nobody notices you, never sees the real you, well, that's a damn lonely feeling. Not that you'd expect to be foremost in the thoughts of others, nor the center of their universe, just merely wishing they spare you a thought or two, and maybe see you, if only briefly. Life is chaotic and busy, I know. Just like everything, invisibility is both a curse and a blessing. Do you know what else is rough? This figurative return to earth I must do now and again. This having to kick myself out of my own daydreams is not a very enjoyable experience. Reality can be quite the shock. I still strongly feel that saying, "Feel better because people have it worse than you" is about as dumb as saying, "Feel bad because people have it better than you." Either way, comparison will get you nowhere, fast. Yes, everything is relative. You've got to have a reference point. But my reference is still me, just yesterday, the day before, two years ago, fifteen years ago. And compared to some of my worst chapters, I guess I'm doing quite well. Everyone's talking about their circle. Me I've got almost enough true friends and loved ones to form a nice hexagon. There is this Jedi mind trick I must be using on myself. Maybe I do this just to forget the way things really are, if only for a moment. Just to forget. There is hopelessness and futility, and it can weigh so heavily on the heart. I guess it's good to dream sometimes. It makes for a nice escape. The problem is that sometimes one can get so involved in a dream they can forget they're dreaming. And when that happens, it makes waking up to reality that much more painful. I wish there room in this life for hope and second chances. I swear this is the hardest thing, just to realize it is just too late, far too late. To have been glitched out of the game for so long, you can never come back, never have that chance. There are emotions I can barely glance in the periphery, just enough to fill me with an empty longing. I know that it is beyond my reach, but I just don't want to believe it. To believe it means just plain giving up on so much. And tell me, friend, Roman, stranger, whoever, just what makes the struggle of being alive worthwhile? Just what makes one strong enough to stand and watch their world fall apart, yet be okay? There is something to be said for not being alone. Yes, yes, I do go back and forth on this, but lately I have really been maybe thinking of this more than I used to. There is something to be said about having a hand to hold. Then I'll scold myself for such thoughts. I'll tell myself that it's only going to drag you down into the depths of depression to think such thoughts. No, you should focus on the little things that make you happy, your photography, your computer games, music and all those things. Most of the time, they do offer sufficient distraction. But it is moments like these in the darkness of night that they offer hollow comfort at best.

They say she's beautiful. And she is indeed. Still anyone can state the obvious, what anyone with eyes can see, what I have always known. And while I would imagine it is just as wonderful to hear as it is true, there is so much more, so much beyond what meets the eye. There are hopes, dreams, passions, and a beautiful soul. I would hope that time and effort would be taken to see what I can see. When you look with more than just your eyes, you can see so very clearly, a genuineness, a realness, a depth, so much more than some projection or persona. And I hate to see sadness in those eyes. I wish I could be the one. I wish I could be the better that you deserve. Making you happy is what would make me happy. I know I can not fix absolutely everything, but I would sure love to try. If wishes were horses, there would be a stampede, a western, and the Kentucky Derby all rolled into one. And the first place winner at the Fast-track of my thoughts is unspoken at least as far as social media is concerned. Anyone who believes I share too much there should see the things I keep to myself. There's level one surface then there's two leagues beyond Captain Nemo, the Nautilus, and the deep blue sea. I wish. I wish I could be. I wish I could be that one. Okay, Okay. Let's whoh a bit. I think it's time to wake up again. Yep Yep, wakey wakey! Time to check your surroundings, John Wayne. Well, pilgrims, this appears to be a wagon train of one. Reckon the 910 to Yuma will be along any minute. Funny though. It doesn't exactly stop here. So lets all put on our rocket powered roller skates, cause we're going over the moon and to points northward. 3, 2, 1, Blastoff! Wakey, Wakey!
 

To think your flying (figuratively speaking)

But you're actually falling (figuratively speaking)

Don't feel like the lone faller

For we are falling together in formation

(Figuratively speaking)

And nothing quite hurts (Literally speaking)

Like a hard landing on Earth (figuratively speaking)

Today's rain is gentle and peaceful. I think I could lose myself in that wonderful lullaby, just fade, disappear into myself. There are just too many unsettled factors, too many things up in the air. If only this quiet rain were a dimension all on its own, I could find a safe place to rest for a while. As it is, it has only been with these words I can find refuge. I will graciously thank any friend, Roman, robot, or stranger that has been along with me for my journey. If even only the imaginings of a fever dream, just the thought has made this worthwhile.    

A Cloud In A Crowd

Hello, Universe. It is good to talk to you again.

It seems I always have my head in the clouds, either the light fluffy clouds of a daydream, or the dark heavy storm-clouds of stress and anxiety. Sometimes it's a weird mix. I'll probably never figure myself out, but all these walls of text do count as an attempt: Carry on. Anxiety is a storm of the mind. And like most storms, you've gotta just hunker down and ride it out. One can't exactly evacuate from a storm of the mind, can they? Just take slow, deep breaths, close your eyes, and say, "I'm okay." It is all going to be okay. We'll handle whatever happens. I'm okay, we're all okay. I am not sure if it jives with any professional's advice, but stigma and finances have often led many of us to figure stuff like this out on our own. Some ignorant people will tell you to tough it out and call you a buttercup. But you and I both know there is nobody tougher than one who has had to teach themselves. Nobody lonelier either. Nobody less judgmental of those who must fight the same battles, face the same jerks who don't understand. If it helps at all, I am one fellow human being who understands what it's like. It is not sympathy that most people seek, just a bit of understanding. Even a winning battle can feel hollow if nobody seems to get what you are going through.

 Well, that big solar eclipse wasn't total in my part of the world. Still, it was cool to see the TV footage from elsewhere. If I can live another 21 years, 4 months, my area will be at the exact center. Who knows if I will live that long or will still have my strength or my mind. I tell you this, folks: I don't want to go out the way my beloved elders did and are. If I have to go, I want it to be all at once and without any fear or pain. I do not wish to lose myself by bits and pieces. I wish either to live or die, no half-assed existing, depending on others to take care of my basic needs. No way. I want to live with dignity and go out the same way. It has been one hell of a crazy ride, my friends. I have had my highs and lows. I want to wrap this up on the highest of highs. There are no hangovers in the arms of Oblivia. It would be an understatement to say things have not gone according to plan. It's like the main event was a no-show. Expectations vs. reality is the bought of the century where none of the combatants get hurt. Only the poor soul having the former, yet facing the latter. I think a big puzzle piece in this, the human condition, is that while we think we know what we want, we really don't. Not really. Well, maybe we do in general, but as they say, the devil is in the details. So many situations in life are a package deal. The Pros are lovely, but there are Cons. And there is no getting the best of both while casting aside the downsides. In for a Penny, In for a Pound. And so, one has to decide which is better overall. And the truth is, my friends, I really don't know. There are pros and cons in my current situation. There were pros and cons in my previous situation. Currently, I am (mostly) happy. It may simply be the most I can hope for. Still, despite all the brave talk, we humans make for lousy hermits. Though, if it is my destiny, I plan on being the coolest mysterious recluse ever. Hawking knew it, and so did Einstein. Deep down, Newton knew it too, but in some ways, that dude was always in denial. Logic and reason tend to be better than ancient superstitions when it comes to getting down to the facts of the universe. I hate to break hearts, but the old fables just don't cut it anymore. I think beyond overcoming the vast distances of the cosmos, beyond perfecting nuclear fusion and its wonderful implications in such a way that doesn't create a miniature sun on earth, beyond perfecting robotics and AI in a way to give all humans the life of leisure that only the super rich enjoy today, Beyond conquering all the possibilities of the universe, I think we must first overcome ourselves and our outdated superstitions. The bright side? While human nature isn't perfect, there is beauty in those little quirks and quarks, for they are what makes us real. It is all the little flaws, those bits of roughness around the edges that give real substance to our existence. I am one hell of a mess, but I am real. I am not a computer generation projection of what somebody wishes to be. Although painting a clearer picture of my soul would be quite validating. Oh well, that's reality for ya. I may not understand completely, but I do care. And as far as understanding, I do try. There are some things I could never see, so much that I could never know. In the end, and for varying reasons, there are some roads we must walk alone, with struggles along the way we must face alone. That meme that is shared all over this place, "Be kind for everyone is facing their own battle." I wonder how many people are aware of its true meaning and depth. Nobody else can ever see firsthand what your eyes have seen. Nobody else can ever feel what is in your heart. The depth, the emotion, and the memory you wish would have the mercy to fade. And I would be the last one here to claim that anything is right. When it all comes down to it, nothing is ever 'only in your mind' because the mind is the very place everything lives. I far from know, but I do care. I do not completely understand, but I will try. 

About 12 years ago, I finally had enough of intrusive ads, making the internet unusable. The final straw was when I was browsing for software on a certain website of the seven seas, and suddenly, a large animated ad featuring full-on (Rhymes with ducking) going on. I had to quickly cover the screen because I wasn't the only person in the room, and I sure as hell didn't want to have to explain certain things yet. Look, I don't mind something respectful on a top or side banner, but anything that interrupts my reading or viewing is gonna straight up piss me off. I certainly won't be buying shit from whoever interrupts me. And so long as they try to, I will use blockers. And when they try to force me not to? Most times, I haf vays of accessing the content anyway. Many have tried, and many have failed. I tend to see it as a challenge, and I'm not going to lose.The way I see it is that life is short, my time is precious, and I don't have time for bullshit. Besides, after all these years, there's very little I need to go online for. Of course, I am still collecting Doom levels, but really, I have more levels than time to play through them. As for anything else, there's not much I want that I don't already have. See, I am from the days when computers were not constantly connected to the internet. You'd dial in, check your email, browse a bit, then log off. I will not pay for anything that can not be stored locally or can not be accessed without phoning home. If that makes me a relic, so be it. I think the world is way too connected these days. If it brought people closer together, I would be all for it, but it doesn't. I think it alienates us even more. I miss those early days, but we can never have that again. It's a different world from where I started. Some changes are awesome. Others, less so. I don't miss paper checks or having to run by the bank every time I got one, but I sure hate how everything is so connected that there are assholes all around the world trying to figure ways to steal from me. As for social media, you've probably already seen my rant, so I will spare you this time. The world is a different but not necessarily better place. I have seen a lot of changes. I sure miss handwritten letters on pretty stationery. I miss there being people who liked me enough to send them. I guess I miss many things my current self would appreciate oh so much more than the one who was there at the time.

I will say again that the fable of the fox and the grapes was a good lesson to prepare us for adulthood when we were kids. No wonder foxes were depicted as crafty and wise in these stories. Sour grapes? Figuratively speaking? Who needs em? Be mindful of any figurative gateways in life. Do not step through if you can not truly see where they lead. Outside appearances can be deceptive. Mario didn't turn out to be the better choice, did he? Loved his mushrooms more than he loved you, did he? Oh, but hey, he was rich and very flashy, right? Silly girl, didn't you know that star only lasts a little while? Just a Goomba in disguise. And now your prince is in another castle. Duh. Or should I say dudda dudda dudda? Two turtle birds and partridge in a biting tree. Everyone goes for the glitter and the glamor. Everybody mines the fools gold. All for the glitter and never for the real. And yadda yadda Yoda, that is why you fail. Your prince is in another castle. All the while my special friend has returned and she is more real than you could ever be. It was never about being nice. It was always about being real, knowing the time, the place and the moment, knowing when and why. That never made me less, never diluted me, but still here when the star ran out of flash, still real and still me. Now that the glitter no longer dazes you, I stand here clearly silhouetted against the sky, very clear but no longer within your reach. Maybe if you ask nicely, Luigi will be your friend. Of course, he's just Mario 2. And as for me, I'm movin' on.

Hello, my dear friend. It is so good to see you again. How have you been? Me? A lot bored and a bit lonely. In short, I have really missed our talks. You always had a way of bringing me out of the gloom just enough so the rest didn't weigh me down at all. I am not sure how or what it is about you, But if I could bottle whatever it is, I'd be richer than Elon. I can't exactly describe it in so many words... Hmmmm. Your presence makes me happy? Yes. Close enough. Maybe even right on the money. Even if this all that will ever be, I shall still treasure this forever. In reality, I appreciate whatever I can have, and take my joy from the little moments of life. You are indeed a brightness for every room you walk into. There is beauty in simple friendship. It brightens my days and so do you. I can be happy without the expectations of going further. It is enough to stand in the sunshine, the warmth caressing my shoulders. I can be happy. I know I can. Surely I can. Can't I? I'm like Anakin Skywalker. I want more but I know I shouldn't. Then again, why not? Just what makes me unworthy of such love and belonging? Maybe it's that it's just too late for me. And such are the circles of thoughts that run through my mind. I am a grown rational human being. Still, I wished upon a solar eclipse, and here we are again. There are moments I wish I believed in magic, that planets align, that the deepest hopes, the most wonderful dreams can come true for only the asking. I wish it were true, that whatever spirits, whatever gods heard my wish and sent you back to me. What a lovely story. I wish I could believe in it. Sadly, I cannot live my life in a delusion. Reality is like a wolf at the door. Half the battle is at least acknowledging its existence. It is wonderful to dream, but there's a bit of myself that must forever dwell in the waking world. Daydreams, love, infatuation paint a picture of loveliness, of a place I could lose myself in happiness. But it's not real. Nor would it be right of me to compare you to some idealized illusion. I know this world, its time, and my place. I dream to take the edge off the emptiness. I pretend there is no void, no empty darkness, pulling me in like the supermassive black hole at the center of this whirlpool galaxy. It's damn difficult to pretend to never be lonely. It's damn harder to pretend I don't wish for more. In this imperfect, not so grandly designed universe, not every question has an answer, and not every soul has a mate. That's the sad truth about random chance. If I could believe in magic or miracles or wishes coming true, I would be waiting for the day I found myself in your loving embrace. Still, there's Oblivia. Still, there's eternity. Still, they're both waiting for me. In a world without magic, it's the best I can hope for. I can count the many ways dreams and wishes are just not possible for me. I know this. So, why do I still dream? I know it's impossible, out of time, out of my league. I am a rational human being after all. And if I can at least have friendship, I can live with that. It is just not my place, nor is it my time. Still, it saddens me, makes me wonder if there is anything left to live for. This beautiful, sweet, super smart, awesomely cool daydream. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I am under a spell. But I guess that just being beautiful and having a great personality just has that effect. No, I will not ruin our friendship by taking a step too far. I would be kicking myself for the rest of my life. Of course, she's not dumb. Heck, that's one of the many things I like about her. She's got an intelligence about her. She is also hard working, determined, and is a very interesting soul. A deep thinker, too. That's not very common these days. Who wouldn't want a friend like that? I guess I really need to get my head out of the clouds. Though, daydreaming is how I get through a lot of my days. Things can feel barren and glum without them. I guess it is okay to dream, so long as one remembers what reality is and can separate one from the other. I am not some crazy stalker here. Just a dreamer. As Alice Johnson once said, when dreams are all you have, you kinda become an expert. 

Today is food day. It began at about a half past three this morning when I left the house for the first food giveaway. Now it's about half past seven, and I'm waiting in the second. After this, it's to the grocery store to buy anything I still need. I've been cooking for my Dad as well as for my boys of late and the cupboard is sorta bare. I work full-time, but still need all the help I can get. After everything else, I've got to get gas, and then I'll finally be heading back to the old Ponderosa. The bug man will be dropping by on Tuesday, so I really need to catch up on my housework after putting up the groceries. Then I need to mow the lawn. After that, I plan on hibernating for the rest of the day. I am oh so sleepy bo peepy. I am not unlike your typical zombie, staggering around in a daze, looking for food. Luckily for my fellow humans, not hungry for brains. Food for thought, or would that be thought for food? Brainzzz! Hopefully this long line will start moving soon. I got a lot of stuff to do, and I want to relax and enjoy my afternoon later. Anyway I guess I have rambled long enough for this time. Sending wishes of beauty, happiness, awesomeness, love and belonging from my soul to yours. 

Much love and all the best. 

A Universe By Any Other Name

 Dearest Universe,

I am hopefully soon to begin fulfilling a promise I made to you. If not exactly to you, it was a promise, at least about you. See, if you love somebody, truly care for them as I care for you, then everything they poured their heart and soul into becomes something to cherish as you cherish them. Why? Because a bit of that heart and soul remains in all that meant so much to them. And maybe I want to safeguard whatever I can, even as my heart breaks for all I couldn't. If it meant something to you, then it means something to me. If I am to truly honor your memory, then I will honor your likes, loves, passions, hopes, and dreams, safeguard them as I would my own. Even in everyday conversation, I still speak of you, for there is so much in every day that reminds me. I seem to keep an image, an impression, an echo that I can never allow to fade. But, you are so much more than an echo to me. 

What ruins all time travel stories is that planet Earth isn't just sittin' pretty in space. The Earth orbits the sun. The entire solar system orbits the center of our galaxy, which is also in motion through space. Sadly, 1985 is not just a when, but also a where. So, our 1981 DeLorean DMC-12 needs to also be an NCC-1701. I wonder just how far through space I have traveled since I was born. Long long ago, in an empty space where a planet used to be. Of course, how far is meaningless without a point of reference, and there is really no such thing as a fixed point in space without references. Relative to earth, I've gone nowhere. Pick a random galaxy, however, and I've been at Ludicrous Speed all the while. Ah, science be praised. No fixed points in space, nor in time. It bends and twists and can even turn inside out. I really wish I could go back in time. Though if alternate universes don't exist, I have already seen the future. And friends, I am sick of this future. I really hope the possibilities out there are endless enough that I may see you again. Could there be a rewind? At least Pause? Life needs time-outs. You know, like if things get to be too much, we each get three time-outs. And maybe there are days we can just call due to rain. Don't get me wrong. I've been rockin' and reelin' non-stop for decades now. Still, a moment to get my head together would sure be nice. Man, I'm tired. This world has no real plans for giving me a break. And it also seems I can't be satisfied with anything. I want to be left alone, yet I complain about being lonely. Does that make any sense at all? It would seem my only reason left for living is so a certain scumbag ex-spouse won't get a chance to live off of my corpse. I could also add one positive reason to live: keeping my sister's memory alive. But otherwise, it seems there's just no longer any point in this bullshit. And if I am looking for validation, absolution, yadda yadda Yoda, then that deep dark vortex of social media is certainly not the answer. A wall of politics. A wall of dogma. A wall of materialism. A big declaration of "Hey, look at what I've got!" The great wall of everything wrong with this world. A wall of strangers, brick by brick, block by block, a mighty tower of the obvious reasons I could never belong. We are not sheep to be herded. We are not wallets to be picked. We are not talking points to be spread. We are not boxes to be checked. We are not data to be collected. We are not numbers. I've got a name. And no politician, no pundit, no data junky, is going to tell me who or what I am. Suffice to say, I am a human being. Anything beyond that is none of their business. I'm just tired, that's all. I really could use a break. Not very likely, though. If this world didn't stop for me in 2022, it most certainly won't now. Ah, the not so subtle signs that one just might need a minor vacation from reality. And The also not so subtle reality that such ain't happening soon. Life is a spinning wheel that stops for no one. One's just got to get a good running start and hope they land in a safe, dignified position. It's like roulette, but we're the ball. Place your bets and good luck.

Oh, the thoughts an old song can conjure, the highs and the lows of that long ago roller-coaster, the crash of an illusion like the waves to the rocks. Of a less knowledgeable version of myself, far from perfect, but still having deserved far better than what befell. And the wonder of the likeness to having another feel the way or go as far for me as I did for them. It's not something I would throw away. Life is a hell of a thing, my friends. If life is like a song, let's see what else is in the playlist. I see people in my former situation, and my heart goes out to them. I have learned a lot through difficult times. You need a fully conscious mind to deal with things like that. Drinking is a definite no-go. The only time to drink is when you are happy in the first place. Otherwise, stay out of that bottle. Drinking to forget is a lot like fighting for peace or screwing for virginity. I promise you'll spend your time dwelling on the very thing you wanted to forget. Maybe getting all of that emotion out, crying for a few hours could have a positive side effect, but I would imagine healthier ways of doing that. My therapy is Doctor Blog-ieo, among other things. I wish I could have had this particular wisdom decades ago. It would have served me well. I agree with Doctor Soran, the villain from Star Trek Generations. Time takes away so much, too much. I guess the only difference between us is I wouldn't destroy a whole solar system to get back to the Nexus (Definition for non Trekkers) (Basically the space Matrix, except much better because it gives you back everything time has taken) But... I would do almost anything short of that. Love and belonging is a powerful thing. Basically, most of we humans happen to crave it. Who doesn't want to be loved? Who doesn't want to belong? It can override all logic and reason. The good? It can motivate ordinary people to do great and wonderful things. The bad? It can motivate ordinary people to do terrible things, plus what do you think gives cults their power? Being a decent, moral, kind human being with some class involves no check boxes, no demographics, no creed, gender, race, or any of those yadda yadda Yodas. Because I've seen many good people in all those categories, but also a few creepos. In ALL categories. Just as it is inaccurate to mistrust someone because they're this or that or yadda, It is also inaccurate to overly trust someone for the same reason, also dangerous. I honestly believe most people are good and kind and that the jerks only seem so numerous because they're jerks. Snap judgments may save us a lot of time, but they can exclude the good while letting in the bad. To me, it's not check boxes, but levels of trust. Some I trust only with trivialities. Some I trust with a few serious things. Some I trust with most everything. A rare few, I would pour out my heart and tell my soul to. But, my dearest sister is no longer here. So that rare few is now a rare zero, except for here in these letters to my universe. Yes, I am tired, long-term tired. Even stars can run out of light to shine, return to the formless void, supposedly there before a supposed god grandly designed this cluster-flark. Oh, and the wonders of the human body. I hate being a biological organism. I want an android body that doesn't feel crappy for no reason, stronger, beautiful, more in touch with my soul. A brand new CPU and chips with sharper memories, except for the certain ones I will delete forever. The human body is a prison, and the mind feels like solitary confinement. I would like out, please. Too bad the technology is probably centuries away. By then, I guess I will have been long paroled in the old-fashioned way, same as so many others have gone before. Yep, Romeo and Juliet, together in eternity. Though maybe had he been more observant, maybe had she let him know about that whole temporary sleep thing, they might have been together here on Earth, too. Geesh, Shakespeare! You are one gloomy dude. And coming from somebody as grim as me, that's pretty heavy. Wow, deeper and darker is the rabbit hole, curiouser, and curiouser my thoughts become. I don't know what I'm after anymore, anything but my own advice. I can see the point on both ends of certain arguments. I can see the hurt from both sides. I can see situations with the water so far beneath the bridge it can't even be seen, much less reached. All I know is we forgive others more for our own sake and how the land of right can be a very lonely place. I'm not saying to never take a stand. I'm just saying pick your battles, choose your ground, and build a sturdy castle, but don't forget the bridge. That being said, I also say that not everybody deserves that bridge, nor do you owe that bridge to everyone. For some, the moat with the hungry piranhas, crocodiles, and sharks with frickin laser beams attached to their heads is quite deserved. The difference between a mistake and a deliberate wrong is intent. The former is forgivable. The latter, in most circumstances, is not. From what I remember about that funhouse ride of long ago, is there was also this thing I call the boomerang phase, soon followed by what I called the tennis phase, where it's back and forth with your opponent. When this happens, the object is to claim victory by not letting the ball back in your court. He may think he's winning, but believe me he's not. Neither is she. You are. Give it a few years and you'll see, too. Kick her out and send her on to him. Game point. No "love" lost. Karma will give them all the hades they deserve and more. Never be anybody's Option B. 

I have to admit that when I speak of letting go and getting past, I'm not so good at such things either. Maybe some I have, but it is also likely there are some things I'm never going to be able to move beyond. I can forgive the ex for all the horrible things said about and done to me. Not so much, when it comes to how my children were hurt and continue to be affected by her thoughtless actions. Though it hurts me deeply to have lost my grandparents and other dear elders of my family, I also accept it is a circle of life sort of thing, as my turn will be in the fullness of time. I accept this less so when it comes to my mother, even though the whole fullness of time thing still applies, well because that's my momma. As for my baby sister, eight years my junior, I will never accept the unfairness brought upon her by fate. My time should have happened before hers, and both our times should have been at least decades away. I am angry with fate and the gods on her behalf, and I am also angry on my own behalf. Because I needed my baby sister to talk to, I needed that two-way crisis line. Why would I call a damn stranger? A stranger will never talk me down from the figurative edge. Only she of the similar brain was ever capable of that. No stranger will ever be allowed to hear my soul. Never, not ever. I blame the gods for theft and a murder. down will never forgive them, nor myself for that matter. There are things I will carry to my own grave. Okay? Okay. I think it's time for another subject change clean cup move down. Hatters be hattin' my friends. Clean cup, mooooove dooooown! Watch for mad watches! Mad watch! Mad watch! Yeah, two days slow. Am I the ship of Theseus? Am I the Metamorphis? Am I a completely different person? The only certainty is times have changed and I am not the same. Maybe the seeds were always there, buried in my core, hidden from even my former self. Yes. Time.... Has changed. All I am left with is a name that no longer has the meaning or power it once did. I am more this new name. The seas of this life have been rough, dealing its damage, and I've replaced these bits and pieces of myself, one by one, time after time. Somewhere along the line there was this point of no return, not even a desire to return. It's like, I wasn't.... finished. Not that I am now, but certainly more along the way. Yes. I am that Ship Of Theseus. I am the Metamorphis. 

Instead of Disneyland, there should be sixties land, kinda Monterey pop, Fillmore East and West, and Woodstock experience, not to mention the Jimi Hendrix experience.... The slogan could be, "The trip begins here." Before and after pictures could be Doctor Timothy Leary 1946 and 1967. Younger me would definitely go. Present day me would struggle not to. There was a bit of magic in the music of that era. Music used to be my doorway. Now, it's just a way to get through my days. I like the 50s to the 90s, but for now, it's the boss. Yes, that boss. And while Bruce Springsteen's "Born To Run" befits a motorcycle drive down highway 9 better than a forklift drive down a factory line, it still goes okay. Besides, nobody can accuse me of not listening to "The Boss" at work. I updated my work tunes last night as I was getting bored with my old ones. I stream absolutely jack shit, BTW. These are files I have had for better than 20 years. I don't have to worry about bandwidth or signal. I don't shell out money every month for something I don't own. I'm from the good 'ol 20th century, my friends. I can get with the times on a lot of things, but not the insanity of not owning your tunes. I bought them in the 1990s, and they're still with me today. also have no patience for ads either. My tunes, my time. I like it this way, and I do this my way or the highway. That's the way I rock. That's the way I roll.