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.
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