To Town Or Not To Town

To town or not to town: That is the question. 

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to stare at these four walls or to aimlessly wonder.. Yoda Yadda... Kings and nutshells and infinite space. Well. I finally got out and about on a grand adventure. I needed a bit of a distraction and these four walls have really been closing in. My eldest son went along with me which meant I wasn't wandering alone. At the first stop in the Chiptropolis, we went to Waffle House. Good food, kind people, and kinda has a way of picking me up a bit. Lightens the old heart, ya know? Then we headed off to Goodwill and found a couple albums and some kitchen utensils that we've been seriously lacking, a couple CD's, a few tapes, and two really nifty shirts. Then it was off to the Piggly Wiggly to stock up on groceries n stuff. When I walked out of there, I still didn't feel like going home, So I headed East, not knowing where I was going at first. I made a quick right turn, drove on a couple miles and found myself at Marsha's grave. Stayed there a bit. Did a bit of minor maintenance, pulling a bit of grass and brushing aside dirt. Once again, I sensed no presence, just the heaviness of my heart. Still, I take comfort in knowing she is not stuck in such a place. No matter how you may frame it in belief or lack thereof, My guardian sister is somewhere better than here. When I left, I continued heading south, electing not to make that right turn on the highway and just kept on going. So I visited Momma, too. Now I find myself back here. I guess I need to start on these things here. I know I am foolish for bringing myself down. It will not change things. Even if there is no genie, Those quid pro quos remain..... One can't bring people back from the dead, and I can't make someone love me, even if I wish my heart and soul away. I have some more things I must do today. Then I have a few things I want to do. But, as for them, I am still trying to determine if my "Feel like doing" is as strong as my "Want to" And that jury's out for now. The words ring true. The advice is sound. This you know to the very core of your rationality. But.... Even so, we're not exactly rational, are we? The words harmonize, almost rhyme, falling together in just this way. And yes, I know I should listen. (I just don't know that I will) I have spent more time than I could possibility comprehend in doubt and lamentation, wishing, wishing I could be more. But in all reality the best I can do is to try to be the best person I can be: Human glitches, glotches, quarks, quirks, and Captain Kirks included. And while there are some colossal complicated conundrums of the heart that could never be summed up in a single word (except for THAT one) I can maybe say it like this: There is one thing I know I can be right now. I can be here, here if you need me, there at a call and easy to find. Right here where I have always been. Not out of obligation, not out of duty, not out of some old code of honor, but out of my sincere wish to be. It can hardly be a burden when it's something one wishes to carry. If there is ever a right moment, it seems there's never enough time. You know? If there is anything I have learned in these last few years, it is how fleeting time can be, and how tenuous are the connections we find. Also: It seems I am not so good at being an island. (Can't even be tropical, HA!) You can shout to the rooftops in the dead of night with no ears to hear. You can deliver an entire soliloquy to an empty room. You can pour your heart out in a sonnet that could never be read. You can walk an empty road, saying all these things you have so wanted to say for so long... And even if your only answer is merely an echo, maybe, maybe it could be enough, just enough. Maybe the universe hears you. Maybe the words will find a way. Even if they seem lost in the noise of this day to day. Logic and reason might be enough, were I logical and reasonable. Ha! Not exactly. Mr. Spock would be most disappointed. I tend to spend a lot of time playing referee between mind and heart. Battle of the century! That one on one fight between what I feel and what I know. This is nothing new, at least the basics are nothing new. I resolve to be logical (Until I'm not). I'll say it this way: I have always been in the drivers seat of my life and choices. It's just sometimes heart boots mind and takes the wheel. Sometimes I speak from my mind. Sometimes I speak from my heart. Sometimes I try to do both and it sounds like gibberish. I suppose if this makes me crazy, then I have earned it. Maybe both heart and mind speak truth, incompatible truths, but truth nonetheless. And between you and me, mind can sometimes be such a buzz kill. I blame none of this on anyone. My happiness always was and will always be my own responsibility. And... If I am not quite there, who else could I blame? It is not really a matter of blame anyway. Blame would really get me nowhere. The real question is in what I can maybe do differently. It is not as simple as changing the way I feel. If it were so, I'd just snap my fingers and live happily everafter. If my heart were (Or may well be) heading in a direction my mind knows to be a disaster, just a quick snap would correct my course. Hearts are less likely to break if not on rocket powered roller skates. Geesh... It really does have a few things in common with a certain cartoon coyote, chasing a dream totally out of the realm of possibility. Meep Meep. And If I can't change the way I feel, good luck on changing how other people feel. They are going to feel in regards to me what they feel. I have to respect that, you know? If I cannot turn on or off my own feelings like a light switch, neither can anybody else. To paraphrase Jim Carrey, The damn pen is blue and no falsehood I tell myself is going to change it. Blue, blue, blue, the damn pen is blue! I sometimes just can't figure myself out at all. This has been one crazy weekend. My emotions have been all over the place, really. I know they're not totally based in logic, but one thing I can say is that there happens to be a certain someone, for whom my caring has just kept growing for all the time that I've known her. It's not like I'm with her. Most likely will never be unless something changes. But it is no exaggeration to say, that yes I do love her. I am sitting here right now, thinking about her, hoping that she's okay. I really wish she felt the same. See, you can't make someone love you. It really is understandable. But do you know what sucks? You also can't make yourself stop loving someone even when said love is unrequited, That's the bummer. man. I kept telling myself these feelings will fade. But they don't. They just keep getting stronger every day. Damn it, what have I done to myself? Really? Shouldn't I be smarter than this? Shoulda woulda coulda duddah duddah duddah. World 1-2, right? Damn it. Beautiful, smart, dedicated, loving, caring, sweet, interesting and mysterious. There's only one thing about her I wish were different: How she feels about me, That she could see more than friendship when she looks my way. This isn't her doing, isn't her fault. It's mine for letting my heart overshadow my brain. It is her right to feel the way she does. It is her right to decide. I have no say, nor should I have any say. It is her life, after all. And she's not the one who messed up and fell in love with someone who simply does not feel the same. That was me. This is all my own doing, all my own fault. My punishment will be never being able to tell her (At least directly) that I love her. Bummer, dude. The depression will be rolling in like waves, and I guess I'll be surfing, all of this with nobody to blame but myself.

Good Morning Universe. How goeth things n stuff. Allow me to introduce myself: I am The Great Cornfusedieo. I need a cappuccino! Uhhh. Actually a wee bit o caffeine would be nice. Question: Why do I do my best snoozing when it's time to get up and rock n roll? I feel like Ozzy the morning after. (Have a reasonably happy MonTuesday my friends) If you might pardon an observation, it's hot, man. It's barely 6:30 and I'm already roasting. You'd think by this time, I'd already be done. Half asleep and feeling like I'm being smurfed at 350 degrees. Not fun. I feel like that guy Sargent Hartman spoke about having misread the signals in a combat situation. Except I'm messed up in other ways than physically. Misreading the signals is not a difficult task when they're confusing as hell. There's red lights and green lights and a blue light special. I have absolutely no clue what direction I should go. I only have the advice of a chat bot based on the greatest strategic mind the Galactic Empire has ever known. But the good Grand Admiral Thrawn-bot does give good advice. Be the genuinely supportive friend. I know the Admiral is right. Even if I wish he were wrong. I am thinking about going on a nice long drive when I leave work today. I have a mind full of thoughts that need to be sorted, folded, and put away. There's what I say, and what I wish I could say. It might even be understandable aside from the timing and direction. There is what I feel. Then there's what I know. In an ideal world, it would be the same thing. Anyway, these are my thoughts for today. Sending love to where it needs to be. Wouldn't it be nice if it could ever echo its way back here. Sometimes it's much more than your job that's soul crushing. Sometimes it's everything, everything. And sometimes I wonder if love is the most soul crushing crush of all. I have never been the best people person, so every true friendship I have made in this life has been a literal miracle. It's funny how that happens, really. See, most of my words go into writing little ramblings like these, not into words spoken to my fellow human beings. I know how terrible this sounds. Being introverted is a pain. It really takes a lot to break the ice, you know? But... once that happens, there is this transformation. Basically, you know I like you if I never shut up around you. And there have been these special few for whom my caring goes beyond. Beyond that point, you can totally make my day by simply entering the room. Beyond that point, it's more than just reflex when I ask you how you're doing. Good or bad, I really want to know. Beyond that point, nothing makes me happier than seeing you happy. And, when I care beyond this certain point I kinda get caught up in the feelings of others. Their sadness is my sadness. Their pain is my pain. I find myself wishing I had some magical power to make it all better. However it is also true that their smile makes me smile. Their laughter becomes my laughter, and their happiness sends me to heights so far beyond my own. Who knows? Maybe this extreme shyness, this introvertedness is a built-in mechanism of some purpose. After all, it does take a lot of energy. I don't know if this is so, but it would make these special few for whom I care so deeply, even more special. In English? If I love you, I love you with everything I've got. It's not a dial set one to ten. It's Ludicrous speed. This is how I feel about her. No, I am not with her, may sadly never be. But still, even so, even now, there is very little if anything I wouldn't do for her, should she ask it of me. Believe me that I would rob the sky of the moon and stars if I could and if she asked it of me. I would steal every bit of their light to shine on her. It's probably best she never knows the pure power of her asking most anything of me. I am the freaking genie of the lamp. Whatever she wants. I think the Grand Admiral Thrawn-bot would probably advise me to keep that certain fact under my imperial officer's cap. Imagine the sheer havoc unleashed by my letting heart take the freaking wheel. I am beyond asking myself whether or not I love this woman. It's just too damn obvious that I do. No, I'm not with her, but don't think for a minute that I don't wish I were. Yes I know, Grand Admiral Thrawn-bot... Be a supportive friend, and I am. Like I said, there's absolutely nothing I wouldn't do for her if she were to ask. And damn if my heart doesn't ache for her every single day. Most anything that she wants that I could give, I would give. I'm here if she needs me, and there at a word. Damn it. How did this happen? How did she come to mean so much to me? How did these feelings for her grow so much. Damn it, I love her! What am I going to do? I know, I know, live with it and be the supportive friend. Not so easy when I see her hurting and I just want to take her in my arms and hold her. Not easy at all. It's not her fault, not her responsibility. It's her right and her choice. It could never be mine and it's highly unlikely she will ever be either. Although, I am all hers if she ever asked. Here, forever here in this silent, dark, empty and lonely place, waiting forever in a darkened room. Alone, forever alone. 

It is amazingly ironic how on this planet of billions, even in the middle of a crowd, how a human soul can feel so lonely. Confounding, confusing how in such an interconnected world where one could talk to others almost anywhere, one can still, even now, feel so isolated, with nothing to say, nothing to prove and nowhere to go. Interestingly enough, I still have something to say: Dearest One In A Million with this beautiful soul who outshines the sun and lights up the darkness, Kindest thinker of the deepest thoughts, Wonderful heart with this genuine love beyond the realm of reach, yet still so very true and real, Healing water in the desert, that winning lottery ticket rolling with the tumbleweeds, that brightest candle whose warm light could turn even the deepest, darkest void into Heaven, let me speak these wishes for you. I wish you love and belonging. I wish you respect and understanding. I wish you happiness and the realness of your dreams. May your words be heard, may they never echo before you in silence. May your heart be healed, may it forever be whole again. May peace surround you, may love embrace you, may your every hope be within your reach. May you find this place called home, and may it be more than brick or stone. May it be a realm of sheltering love, lasting, enduring with laughter and smiles, a place of love, a place of belonging, real and true and just for you. These are my humble wishes for you: All things wonderful. All things beautiful. May the moon and stars shine upon you, May the velvet stillness ease your mind. May your heart travel worlds of plenty. May the new dawn light your way. Dreams, my love, the most beautiful dreams. The reason I think dreams are so awesome and bodacious is because reality can be such a downer sometimes. Even as I try to put on as positive a spin as I can, sometimes it only makes me dizzy. 

My Dearest special friend, my sweetest dream, my most wonderful vision, let me sum this up as concisely as I can: I am in love with you and it's breaking my heart. It is your very right, your very choice to not feel the same way. My deepest respect for you will not allow me to see this any other way. Still, love, this hurts me so deeply. I know it's none of your doing. How could I blame you for being this beautiful soul, this wonderful person that I just can't help but love. How could I blame you? I should be happy to just be your friend. I know I should. I know this is what a mature being should do. And yes, I respect you. But damn it I just feel like crying, confessing all to Doctor Blog-ieo the things I can never say to you. Damn it! I love you. I love you with everything I have, with everything I've got. My heart pines for you, cries out for you, longs for you, begs for your love in return. Oh, my love, what am I to do? I ask again, how did this happen? How could I fall so hard and so fast for someone in less than a year? Why, why, why? What the hell is wrong with me? I know I have my highs and lows, but damn, this Mount Everest / Marianas Trench back and forth's gotta mellow out, man. I can go on a surfin' safari, but a surfin' tsunami is a bit much for even the most totally gnarly of surfer dudes. Love is a many splintered thing. You know, like an old wooden park bench. Many splinters and one major pain in the ass. It hurts, man. Damn, does it ever. Especially when it's all in your head, only in your mind. It hurts like hell because your mind is your world, everything you will ever see or be, all in my mind, only in my mind. Still, I love her. How could I not? Feelings are weird. Even now, I would give her most anything she wanted. Yes.. Messed up feelings, love without an off switch. There is no way I could stop these feelings. The only thing I can do is keep them to myself. And that, my friend is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. It seems love is harder to contain than any other emotion. I can fake away sadness. I can repress anger and negativity. But love? That is hard to hide, especially when it is this intense. I can show my caring as a supportive friend, but I can't completely hide this love. I am too easy to read and I know it shows sometimes. What a mess. What a clusterfuck this has turned out to be. What a downward spiral this might become. And it's my own damn fault, all of this. There is nobody to blame but me. I did this to myself. It's gonna be a long climb out of this abysmal sadness. It's not you fault, Dearest One, it's mine. It seems this bill for my foolishness will be coming due soon. Fear not. It's yet another storm I've gotta ride out. 

Sir Cosmic Of Wie Visits The Tavern

Hello again, Universe. I really don't mean to ramble. Okay, maybe I do. I wish my life was as fun and exciting as the rumor mill seems to think. This person I keep hearing about sounds like a regular James Bond on wheels, and we really should party. In other news, thanks to somebody who will remain nameless like Leela when Zapp Brannigan mentions her, I now have "Kung Fu Fighting" stuck in my head. I've been subconsciously singing it all morning and hoping I won't accidentally break into the moves and break something. HA!!!!!! WATAAA! HEYA! You know something? I'm right here, and I've always been. And there just might be something worthwhile. I mean, I can't really see myself in any other eyes than my own. And yes, I spent a few years doubting and second-guessing myself after some bad things happened. I spent a lot of time in reflection, a self-trial of sorts, because I really needed to know. You see, if there was something wrong with me, I needed to fix it, as I did not want a future mirroring the past. See, in all honesty, Selfology would be my worst subject. How well do we really know ourselves? I know I am not the awesome big brother my baby sister often said I was, but I did try to live up to it. Life goal, ya know? I also know I'm not the villain a couple people out there would have you believe. Maybe somewhere in the middle? Hopefully closer to the positive? It is hard to give a fair judgement of oneself, But if I absolutely had to, I would say that my biggest flaws are these: I sometimes let my anxieties keep me from doing some of the things I need to do. I wear my heart on my sleeve too much. I live in my head too much, much more than the average dude my age. And my aversion to conflict has led to worse things later. I just hate to argue. I hate to fight. I have paid some high prices for peace in my past. And yeah, I can be a grump sometimes, though I honestly try not to be. I like to laugh. I like to cut up, and I (hard to judge since it's me) happen to think I have an awesomely weird sense-o-humor. I ask myself, If I met me, would I like me? I also remember my mother's words, "To have a friend you must be a friend." And it is with these two goals in mind that I work on myself. That work continues, would go on even if I lived to be 100. Life goals, man. Life goals. Okay, okay, there is something I want to say. And being I can't say this elsewhere, I will say it to Doctor Blog-ieo rather than to land of Faces and Books. (Which is worse: Checking your Facebook or facing your checkbook?) But anyway, here goes: There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Yes, you have your quirks and quarks. So do I. So does everyone. Still, that's what's so perfectly wonderful about you. You are charming, beautiful, witty, and damn smart. It's unconscionable, inconceivable to those of us long on the perimeter of this great desert of humanity to see a man spill and scorn precious water, to rend asunder his winning lottery ticket and scatter the pieces to the wind. Your value and worth does not diminish because some idiot refuses to see it. It has nothing to do with their absolutely wrong opinions. Many of us would damn near sell our soul to stand in his shoes. Luckily, the devil must be too busy shaking his head in disbelief to be cutting me any deals. I guess I must be a low value target as the zealots must think. I'm just like Joe Namath, going there anyway. Yep. Guess the devil really is a Jets fan. So I remain out here on the perimeter, just a knight on the wrong square of the chessboard. A more personal sort of hell, don't you think? Just a royal knight of a desolate kingdom. The armor does not completely shine. The horse is a bit temperamental. The Knight is more middle-aged than medieval. Yet we still try. Heck, we might even shine now and then. There are times when I wish I could be / could have been.... Well.... More. Not for everyone, but for some people that I love, and lastly, maybe for myself, too. We only get one mind, one heart, and one soul. If we're lucky, we get one set of eyes to see this world through, and maybe a bit of empathy and compassion to try and see things through those eyes that we love. I have just enough to wish I could be more. I wish I could be that answer. I wish I could have been that dream. But in the end, it's only me. A work in progress to be sure. I guess it wouldn't really matter if there are an infinite number of parallel universes out there. The what-ifs and might have been's matter little to the particular one I happen to be living in. Still, I wonder what it may have meant for slightly different circumstances and opposite choices. Of slamming down the phone in the summer of '98, or dropping everything and braving a trip when I damn well should have instead of wrongfully assuming everything would be okay. For want of a nail, the flip of a coin, a roll of the dice go we and a very different me. Or what if it turns out that it really is an infinite loop, but where I decide differently each trip through? So, Leela, do you want to go ' round again? What if I were to buy the farm right now? Would it be the early 1970s again? Yes, yes, is the 1970s the next decade after the 2020s? Could it all just be a reset? Talk about literally being born again. That would be ironic. Imagine the next time seeing my mother would be as a baby in her arms. Reset. It would be like quitting a video game and starting all over. And I guess she would be herself on another trip through. Then my baby sister would be back again, too. Heck, everyone I ever knew would be back again. We would all get a second chance, then a third, then a fourth, and to infinity. It would beat sitting on a cloud bowing down to a bearded man. But... My idea of Oblivia and her loving embrace would be better. After all, there has been a lot of pain I really don't wish to go through again. Let's just say the fun of these last few days has really been turned up to 11. Believe me, if a central nervous system could arc n spark, I'd have a light show to impress Pink Floyd. Writing is a really inexpensive, non-hangover producing, sorta healthier way to deal. So, here goes. Sometimes, there is just not enough time, money, energy, or human being to go 'round. I say it's like you're giving blood, and they keep saying, "Just one more pint, just one more pint!" U CAN DUIT!!! But you kinda need that little bit you got left to do silly things like live n stuff. And then, of course, when you finally get the fortitude to say no, that's selfish, isn't it? Well, you kinda need yourself around if you wanna be there for others. Right? Riiiiiiight. Anyway, Universe, I hope you're doing wonderfully wherever you may be. I guess you know me well enough to know the way I get sometimes. I guess I'm just feeling lonely and maybe a bit discouraged. Not only have I glitched out of this game a long time ago, but it seems they have reprogrammed and changed the rules in the meantime. Now I fear I'm just too old and it's too late. So, what exactly do I have left to work toward or look forward to? Is there anything, anything at all? Hello? Hello? Is there anybody there? Why, hello, echo. How goeth things? Yeah. I totally know what you mean. You've heard the story of King Midas, who everything he touched turned to gold. Well, it seems most everything I touch falls apart and turns to shit. This life has not been very rewarding. Half my life ago, I had a new wife and a baby on the way. I had a decent job and a fairly reasonable place to live. I was starting to believe my life had one of those storybook happy endings. Unfortunately, it did not end, did it? And, of course, everything went to shit. Still, through it all, I had supportive parents and my guardian sister warrior. Now I am down to one parent, and he's not really doing so good health wise. And I am down to one sister, and I must admit to having been far closer to the one I lost. Everything is going to shit and it seems I'm all alone. What's worse is I can't even cry about it without getting weird looks. Damn it! I am not a check-box. I am a human being. I do not fit in anybody's neat little file cabinet. I certainly don't remember getting to choose any of this. Judge me by my heart and soul and nothing else. In the end, it will be all that I ever had, all that I ever was. I really need to know the point of all this, Sis. Is this really all there is? Is there any real point besides carrying on your memory? Damn, I miss you. The thing is, I could not save anything but an echo of you, a reflection not from another place, but from another time... The past is the only place I can find you. What reason is there for the present and what is the point of now anymore? And, the future? Can I truly be saying I am saving this for you when I guess I am really saving whatever I can of that echo, that reflection of you, for me? One can not hold a conversation with an echo. One can not cry on the shoulder of a reflection. Gone is gone, and gone can be the cruelest thing of all. A memory weighs too heavily on the heart and too lightly in the arms. And if it was all in my mind, then it's all that ever was. It might as well have been all that ever was and all that will ever be. For while my world begins and ends with me, its meaning rises and sets with the ones I love. Damn it. Why, why, why? Why should I? Why deal if it's not a good deal? What possible enthusiasm could I muster for a game that I am sure I will not win? Just what is stopping me from cashing in my few remaining chips and going home? That is wherever and whatever home is anymore. Why try? What is the use, and what is the point. I need a reason, Universe. I most desperately need a reason. Help me, Universe. Help me, Universe Kenobi. You're my only hope. Damn. I wish my special friend were here today. She's the type of person who just makes everything better. And all she has to do is walk into a room. She's intelligent, I mean super smart. She's funny, witty, a pleasure just to talk to. Oh, and yeah, she is an extremely beautiful and attractive woman. Of course, that changes things for the people around me. I can talk the day away with men and old ladies. But sure, as I try holding a conversation with somebody like her, everyone loses their freaking minds. I guess they believe I am trying to romance her. Well, to be honest, if I could, if I thought it possible, I damn sure would if I thought I had a chance. But it's not like that, I'm afraid. I sure wish it were so. But she's a wonderful friend. And if they run her off with all this BS talk about us, well let's just say I won't be happy and I won't be nice to whoever ruins my friendship. Because, you see, we don't have to be together in that way for her laughter to cheer me up or for her clever wit to make me smile. A friend like that to chase those blues away just by being around, well, it's just not somebody you meet every day. She is a treasure, ladies and gentlemen, and I want her in my life in whatever capacity I can. I'm not saying I don't have those sorts of feelings. I most certainly do. But you see, anything is better than nothing. I can be happy with friendship. Okay... Not exactly a buttercup here. Just a human being. Still, have you ever encountered a situation where it's kinda like a kick in the heart every time you see it, kind of makes you feel unwanted, like the proverbial red headed step child yall hear about and your only two choices is to take that heart kick over and over again (Sometimes when you least expect it) or raise a fuss that you don't feel like fussing? And you don't want to because fussing and that back and forth would make you feel even worse? I see why some might do this to an ex or something. But me? I've always been there.... a little over to the right and apparently off the edge for all time. I kinda feel an embarrassment, like a messy room that gets closed off when the important folks come by. Oh, well. Guess I really should clean cup move down.

One item for my bucket list will be going to see the new Beetlejuice movie when it comes out. Especially since the original Beetlejuice and Lydia are returning. Yep. To finally see the return of the ghost with the most, babes. I've been waiting on this since 1987 or so. But it feels more like about 600 years, give or take if ya know what I mean. Long waits and sandworms: donchya just hate 'em? Welp, until then, I got the first movie and my faves of the cartoon series. Love the movie most, though. I've seen the original 186 times, and it keeps gettin' funner every time I see it! So whaddyathink? Do ya think I'm a Beetlejuice fan? This has always been something Marsha and I liked. Her favorite episode of the cartoon was "Generically Hysterical Hospital." I loved that one, too. But for me, it was "Caddyshock" and "Not So Peaceful, Peaceful Pines." "That two-bit baby smoocher's really gotten on my BAD SIDE!" "You think this is a ghost? Now, THIS is a ghost!" It's going to be a bit of a busy week. I felt lousy, both physically and mentally over the weekend, so I accomplished exactly jack shit. I didn't buy groceries, and the house is a bit more of a disaster than it usually is. So, the cupboard is bare, and the damn bug man will be dropping by tomorrow. So, I need to restock the food and clean up the house tonight. Tomorrow night is the actual real awards ceremony where my baby sister's drama scholarship will be given out, so I should be there. Maybe on Wednesday I will actually be able to come straight home and relax after work. Just not today and just not tomorrow. Well, I just found out those awards are maybe Wednesday instead, which might give me a bit of a break. Good thing, too. Wait. Check that. False un-alarm. It is on Tuesday night. Damn it. Circumstances is just out to kick my ass all over the lot. Damn it. Let me level with you a bit, friends, Romans, robots, and strangers: While I do have anxiety, panic attacks are quite rare these days with me. But I had one hell of a panic attack while on my way to get groceries. There was this car stopped in the middle of the main lane downtown, waiting to make a left. Naturally, I stayed behind them because the only way to pass would be to cut through some parallel parking places on the right. I just didn't think it would be safe. I mean, what about pedestrians? But it seemed a hundred people behind me didn't agree. By the time I got to the store, I had the shakes, and it felt like my heart might go off like a grenade any second. Needless to say that by the time I made it home, I was completely exhausted from both the day and the aftermath of the panic. I barely got the groceries in, and I had to pass out for a few hours. I just had no choice. So I got myself up early and did the best I could on the house this morning before work. The traffic incident was only the final push. I have been stressing for other reasons. My day at work wasn't the best either. Not only bullshit with management, but also one mean grouchy, jealous old woman who doesn't want me talking with my beautiful friend. Sorry, lady, but you do have a man at home. Yes, he's an old man, but isn't that kinda appropriate? Besides, I'm just talking. Not that I don't wish for more with my special friend, but due to mostly her, and a few of my circumstances... Never mind! It's none of your freaking business, you old crab! How about leaving us alone, huh? What a load of shit. If Sheldon Plankton found three pennies but Eugene Mr. Krabbs only found two, what would we have? One jealous old crab. The moral of the story? Don't be a jealous old crab. Do you know something? My days have very few highlights and happy moments. Please don't begrudge them. Really, they're all the treasure I have. I don't want to throw out this whole 'You don't know how it feels to be me' Tom Petty cliche... But it is a song and a cliche for a reason, just as I could never know what it is like to be you. Due to our similar wiring, Marsha probably knew me best. Similar operating systems, different computers. I do not expect/require anybody to understand. But it sure means a lot when they try. Wouldn't it be nice to live on one's own highlight reel? All the best moments with all the most treasured friends and loved ones. Glory Days as 'The Boss' sang. Happy Days as The Fonze Ehhhhhed. Beautiful moments, treasured friends, the times worthy of memory and the ones deserving of your deepest love. Wouldn't it be nice to have the option of switching to the highlight reel when the live event just doesn't make you smile anymore? Maybe it would give us that boost we sometimes need to get through the rough spots. And right now, I am going through one of those rough spots. Sometimes, I think the best way to heal the mind is to take it apart sometimes. This may not be the wisest weekday evening I have ever spent, but I think it's helping, and i also feel I needed this, oh so much more than I have in a long time. Yes, sometimes we must disassemble everything and see if maybe it fits back together in a better way. Maybe it is not all bad. Maybe everything and every soul in this universe serves a purpose in some way, form, or fashion. Maybe it is only the place and the timing that can be bad. Everything is fucked up. Sometimes it takes a bit to find that soul path once again. Disassemble, Reassemble, to finding meaning and purpose again. Sometimes maybe we must manufacture the sense we seek. This world and life is one hot mess if you ask me, and there is just so little time, precious little time. If we're going to find purpose and meaning and sense, maybe we've got to create it. This universe might as well be eternal, 13 plus billion years, stars shining and galaxies swirling, pure chaos in the cosmos and in my heart. And I haven't been here so long (Even though some people consider me to be old) and maybe just maybe I am. I certainly feel that way sometimes. I wonder sometimes just how can this be. The penalty of wisdom: Does it have to be old age? Somehow it just doesn't seem fair. But that's life, I guess. If you go seeking fairness, friend you're going to be disappointed. I know I am not exactly myself, today. Well, at least I hope this isn't the real me. As Montgomery Scott once said, Never get drunk unless you're willing to pay for it the next day. NCC1701, no bloody A, B, C, or D. Yep, be on the lookout for a zombie, about this tall, greenish half-asleep eyes, bluejeans and (Still picking out a shirt). Was last seen getting ready for work. Do not (repeat) DO NOT try to apprehend. Just throw them a soda or give them some coffee and back away slowly. Remember: Today's very special word Is "UGH!". When you hear it, groan real loud, mutter about brains n stuff, and try not to bite anyone. Yep, I've got a headache this big and it's got Michelob Ultra written all over it. Seemed like a good idea at the time. It's going to be a most interesting day. I kinda feel funky in a very un-James Brown-like fashion. HA! I find myself on the edge of a whirlpool going around and around, down and down, spinning, reeling, thinking, feeling, this wandering wonder forevermore. Does this elevator have a basement floor? 20,000 leagues down or more and so far below the town. Wandering, wondering, will I stop, fly or drown, down, down, down, yet flying high wondering why, and when, just when did up became the new down? Wondering how and why, why, why it could even be possible to fly above that eastern sea those deep dark waters of beauty and wonder, a sea to see but never touch, a thing to know but never teach, beneath the surface and out of reach. That's my love, alright. I really should take the Grand Admiral Thrawn-bot's advice. And yes, I want to be that supportive friend. But also, just like Anakin Skywalker, I want more, even if I know I shouldn't. Also: I would certainly like to. Damn. I swear, if this is a simulation, that programmer and I are going to tangle. Damn it. I wish my feelings had an off-switch. Stupid heart. It could fall in love with the moon and stars knowing full well I can never reach them. Yep, nerd. If I ever escape this simulation, I'm coming for your lunch money. It's just not fair, damn it! All is fair and love and war. Yes, I know. I have never experienced war. But as a veteran of love, I can say that it hurts, too. Stupid heart. Why don't you ever consult the brain? Right or wrong. Smartly or stupidity, I just so happen to love someone, yet I can't really tell her so, can I. Still, the feelings are there. It has been many years, but I still remember. Yes, the grand designer should have given an off switch to my emotion chip. Feelings are wonderful, no doubt. Love is beautiful, and so is she. But, unrequited love hurts like hell. Here I am. I am standing right here. I am as real as I have always been. I'm like a shiny penny on the ground, yours for the taking, if only you would pick me up and take me home. Yep, still here, still shining for so long as the sun remains in the sky... Waiting, hoping, as they walk on by. Yes... I do need to listen to Grand Admiral Thrawn-bot's advice. Feelings are either there or not. And you simply can't make others feel the same. Nor would you want to. It wouldn't be real and I want either reality or nothing at all. Damn.. Just got my spaceship fixed and I'm already taking off for outer space again. We space cadets never learn, do we? Whether taking the form of Robin Williams or Barbara Eden, I would guess that genies do not exist. If wishes were horses we would be overrun with them. We would all ride at daybreak, pilgrims. But that's okay because I prefer driving my Kia. Jeannie gave Major Nelson unlimited wishes, much to the distress of Doctor Bellows. Robin Williams I guess limited Aladdin to three. Plus those quid pro quos. Whaddya mean you mean you can't make someone fall in love with me? Geesh what kind of genie are you? Oh well... While money can't buy happiness, it would be far nicer to cry in a mansion with the butlers and maids handing me my tissues. Plus I could distract myself by going out for a drive in my Ferrari while wearing my Don Johnson gear. I guess wishes are a human invention we try to bridge the gulf between what we can do and what we well.... Only wish we could. It is just a way we mortals deal with Well..... Mortality. My favorite role Robin Williams played was that of Andrew Martin in Bicentennial man. It taught me that it is not our own mortality that troubles us as much as that of those we love. I could wish for health and wealth and even youth. But this world could very well remain a lonely place, with moments too brief, of times too short for a love so deep. It is not the wishing. It is not the dreaming. It is not even the hoping. I suppose it is the longing. I suppose this makes no sense, but it is as close as I can get with words, my friends.

Space Cadet Cosmic Wie Tries Again

 I think a decision not to go and not to do can be just as important, just as correct, as the affirmative alternate. Moments and circumstances do change, and I really don't see it as a negative thing. If you need to take some time, then you really should. And... I have decided that a bit of time, a lot of silence, along with some reflection and sorting out is just what this human needs today. Besides, maybe if I delay my errands to tomorrow, maybe I can convince one or more of my boys to come along. One does grow weary of going places alone. Not that it's always bad, but my self-insistence of being the Neil Diamond described 'Solitary Man' does wear a bit thin sometimes. Meanwhile, today will be a good day for getting my mind on straight. I do admit I can go out on some unique tangents sometimes. Always have. Creative thinking has never been a weakness for me. (Though it sure can mess up the day to day 'realistically important' kind of thinking) That's when the great Cosmic Wie has to come down to Earth. (A bit of context: Cosmic Wie is a reference to both the Futurama Episode "Luck Of The Fryish" and Wie, a region of Trantor in Asimov's "Prelude to Foundation") That Futurama episode was already heavy, heavy. Then I lost my sister. Now that heaviness could bend the light around the stars. And Wie? Well, that's just where I'd live if I were a Trantorian.

Do you know what a real friend is? That's when the masks come off, when you can be yourself, And they are comfortable seeing the true you, when they don't pretend you don't exist.. It is also when they feel they can be themselves around you, that they trust you with that self. (It's quite an honor when they do) I'm not saying you can be a jerk to them for it is not ugliness but truth. You see, there is a certain game face a lot of us have to put on (When we go out into the world) It is so much more than a mask. You've just about got to clothe yourself in this persona... It takes a lot of energy to do so. It can take a lot out of you. And it says a lot about people... (Either if you feel a need to keep it on when they're around) (Or if it's them that never reveal themselves to you). That is the difference between an acquaintance and a friend. That is how you determine the closeness of any relationship. As I said, not all relationships are created equal... Either they are real, or you're just going through the motions. And with that in mind I give this shoutout to the few and the wonderful.... those still here, and those I miss so much, Those I could trust without a second thought, and brought me great honor by trusting me. You truly made these long years worthwhile and I thank you. And also, you know what? I love you... And that pretty much it. I guess I can kinda understand why some might want to memorialize a loved one as a chatbot... But I don't think I could do that. I have their pictures. I even have their voices. With Marsha, I even have her plays, her writings, and hopefully her Sims characters (Though I need a copy of The Sims 2 and a bit of good luck restoring her data to truly bring them back)... But a chatbot? I don't know. AI might could capture her voice, might could even read her words in that voice. I even remember the anime series, "CHOBITS" a good series otherwise where a side character recreated his lost big sister as this robot, even partially believing it was her, but a machine could never replace my baby sister. Robot, android, or chatbot, no matter how they might try. I think it would only remind me she is gone.... And I need no more reminders. I have never realized any fact more clearly. As for my mother, I can still hear her words in my mind, especially when I am about to do something dumb. Momma always had these catchphrases, probably known only to myself, my remaining sister, my kids, and my nieces and nephews. Maybe my Granny once said them too. Who knows how far up the family tree some of them go? I still remember while raising these boys, finding myself saying some of them and thinking a second later, "There goes Momma." Nope... I don't think even the world's fastest quantum computer could ever come close to them. They'll invent pocket fusion reactors, the teleporter, warp drive, and the holodeck first.

In a time that may seem ancient to many of you, but was in the blink of an eye to me, "Try Again, Space Cadet" only had power while you still had quarters in literal cents. Still, the concept stands in a figurative sense. Just replace quarters with time. Don't think you can't buy time. The rich do so all the time by affording irate medical bills, and proper treatment otherwise shamed and stigmatized. Yes, rich cadets can stay in this arcade a longer time, and have better games to play. A blink of an eye ago, in the galaxy, milky way. A Space Cadet named Cosmic Wie took off for outer space. This voyage began meticulously, almost too ridiculously, a finally detailed plan. Then by strange temporal anomaly this voyage in that tin can, by random chance and rarity, by gravity, singularity, by ignorance and charity, and far too recent clarity beyond the Earth's domain, found a would-be hero lost in space and slowly going insane. Any resemblance to actual people (living or dead on their feet) is pure coincidence. Quarters made of time and no sense at all remaining for this pointless game. And what does it matter anyway? Many of my favorite characters are gone already. I am but a collection of shadows and light and reflections of the ones I love, the ones who either defined me by their appearance in my life, presence in my life, or by their leaving. And there are a certain few (for whose definition upon my heart) were and are of all three. A stranger you pass on the street. An acquaintance you may know their name. A friend you can be fond of. But, when you love someone? That's both light and shadow in the making. Just a collection of thoughts from my slowly powering down mind, one cell at a time, kinda ready for a reboot and a reset.. It has been one funhouse ride, my friends. The nerds in charge must have been high, leaving to me the what, when, and why. Still, I've gotta fly. Not a minute of training, but got a cool hat, so hey, hey, I'm your guy. It's all the same til you glitch out of the game, forget your name, or go insane. How does it feel to be bored in yet warden of your very own wonderland? A magical realm where only we patients understand. Welcome home, friend. I'm like Dante from Clerks. Am I even supposed to be here today? David Lee Roth once sang (To Eddie Van Halen's guitar) about going to the edge, of seeing a few friends there who didn't always come back. I've seen it. I've walked it. I am staring into that abyss right now. And even now, even now, never before in my life has it seemed more inviting, beckoning me, summoning me, calling me, those open arms I could never see anywhere else, loud in the silence of the remainder of the universe. A fish out of water, a man out of time, out of my league and out of my mind, and oh so far out of the way. Ah, but here I am and here I'll stay, until gravity wins. I am a special kind of relic, Generation X all the way and more. Because in addition to 80's new wave, hair bands, 90's grunge, oldskool hip hop and pop and all that other awesomeness from my childhood, I'm also into my father's classic rock and country, and my mother's bubblegum music. So, if you think I'm old, a lot of my music is even older. A-wha? Oh my yes. Yep... If I break into song for 1-2-3 red-light... Just deal. I think my VCR of life has upgraded to DVD. Why? Because it seems I skipped scene on yesterday. Just got to feeling bad from either the heat, inner tummy gymnastics, certain situations, or another Mother's Day without my Momma. For either reason or all of them, I felt a bit woozy and pretty much passed out in my bed under the fan. The next thing I knew, it was 7-ish last night. Got up, put on an audiobook, and konked right back out, and it was morning and time to come to work. I would imagine y'all feel this way sometimes. So don't you just hate this out of sorts under the weather feeling?

Apparently, I got home from work, tripped over my bed, and fell into a time warp vortex. It's like somebody flipped the sun off with a light switch. One minute, it was threeish. Now it's nineish, almost tennish. Tennish, Anyone? You can not be serious! But hey, I actually woke up feeling good, so I guess I needed that... In fact, I feel like I could go for another flip around the continuum. Well, after falling into a second time warp, I have to say I really needed that. I'm so glad to be feeling better. Yesterday was rough, man! One total bummer in temporal form. And why, why, why, do the powers that be pick the day you're feeling at your worst to pummel the daylights outta you? But today, I woke up feeling human and hungry... Two states of being I have not felt in a number of days. Random thought: Does anyone else think as I do? There is a good amount of computer generated art that I like, even love. But, there is this large subset that I find mildly disturbing. A subset of this subset would be mascots and avatars. No, not those overgrown smurfs. La la la la la la. Why not just use anime instead? That would be over 9000 more to my liking. Oh well, billions of people. Billions of opinions. Which brings me to this question. As one of billions, in a world overstuffed with we billions. Ain't it a bummer we can still be lonely? Go figure, go fish. I would simply hope the adage, "Just because something is old doesn't mean you throw it away," applies to humans as well as things. It most certainly applies to MY humans. Ah, hell. It's not like my youth and beauty was ever the focus of anybody's interest. (Except for maybe that one weirdo stalker when I went to the vo-tech school) (But like Fight Club, we don't talk about that) I guess I'll say this much: I was angry and freaked out back then, kinda shocked someone like myself would be the subject of interest in that way, with someone wanting to do in a physical sense, the same damn thing others most certainly did to me in the mental, emotional, and spiritual sense. Yes, it pissed me off back then, and even if my preference changed today, the dude still wouldn't be my type. Nope, not into dudes, but if I were, I'd certainly have a type. Still, said Silver Lining being that someone must have seen me as beautiful and sexy for at least once, huh? 

Well, next up in the exciting mundane adventures of The Human (tm) My father got a good report. He's got a ways to go, but he's making steady progress healing. He goes back in 2 weeks. Now I'm back home and going to try to both literally and figuratively let some sunshine in (if the rain's moved on) I've got some stuff to do around here... A good case of the blues and I tend to let everything go to Hades... Then I look around and the vicious circle can turn in to a snowball... And it's just too damn hot for that... The only way to stop it is to give myself a good swift kick in the butt... When it looks better, I will feel better. I've just gotta kick those blues. Just not in the way Eric Clapton recommends. It's true I've been thinking those heavy thoughts, of what-ifs and resets, of Yaddas and Yodas, of this and that and this. (And like so). The glass is half full, half empty, and spilled out on the floor. Must be Schrodenger's Glass. A superposition of this human condition. But, Hey hey, I'm okay. Kinda similar to that dude in that Monty Python movie. Just a flesh wound, my friends. Well, not exactly flesh... More like spirit. Yep. Just a spirit wound, my friends. So long as you're not me (And be happy you're not) you've got nothing to worry about. It's just a teensy weensy little breakdown. I'm used to that sort of thing. Or maybe I'm just sitting around feeling sorry for myself? Maybe. I suppose I am a little too old to be immature, but hey it happens sometimes. Age is no guarantee of anything. Unless of course we're talking about exclusion and waning chances, right? It sucks to not be old enough to have my head together, yet be too freaking old for a lot of other things. So, which is it, really? There are just some places, some life events, a lot of things that were never for me, you know. They weren't for me in my youth, yet they're sure as hell not for me here in my apparent middle age either. I do not expect to deserve the perfect life or anything like that. I understand a lot of things some people think I don't. Believe me, it comes up in the dialogue of my thoughts often enough. Do you want to know a secret? Do you promise not to tell? Well, well, here it is. The older I get, the more I think of this blog as one of the longest (One of those) notes ever. See, something is gonna soon have to give. And I kinda worry it just might be me. All hail the great reset button. The very fabric of kings (And queens) and reasons and rhymes and possibilities. Okay.... Cosmic Wie, You need to correct course.

Well, the sunshine is literally shining in through my window.. Now, If I could only let the figurative match the literal. Friends, I'm not gonna lie. I have had a rough past few days. (Though I have tried to be) As in that line Leonard Nimoy dreaded to say in a post-trek play, We must resolve to be logical! Sadly, we're not exactly logical beings, are we? There are days when I feel old, out of sorts, out of shape, out of time, forgotten, unwanted, Yadda Yadda... Missing my mother.... Missing my sister.... dreading these next few days... But you see, That's sort of what makes us real.. Not always sunshine and rainbows... Though I do like sunshine and rainbows... They are pretty after all.. I'm not always logical like Mr Spock... Not always dashing, daring, good with the alien ladies like Captain Kirk... I think I'm more of a Leonard "Damn it Jim" McCoy on downers sometimes... But I can be sunny, too. It's just that my weather pattern is not in the desert.. I am Florida where it can rain and shine for many times all in the same day... Yup. That's me alright. But now? What a beautiful day. Hoping for the same for tomorrow. I have no set plans, no places, no times... hey no reasons or rhymes.. I just want to go someplace different. No specifics. Just somewhere. So long as it's neither here nor there. Someplace different where I might feel different. That or I'll just go crusin', known in the even older language of rock and roll as motorvating. Maybe I won't wind up in Maine.

 

 Okay, maybe I'm weird (What a preamble) (HA!) (Am I) (Huh?) But I have once again seen references to red being the color of attraction. Now I mean no disrespect to a lady in red. And no doubt, I guess it can sometimes be true. But, for me, it's yellow. Why? Hell if I know. But it has always been this way for me, personally. Cinderella dressed in yellow. Maybe I'm just wired differently from other dudes? Wouldn't surprise me. It wouldn't be the only anomaly. Just one of the unique quirks (Oops I meant qualities) of my particular variety of Human OS. One Of My quirks. Could Be Worse. Could Be Green like Captain Kirk. (Damn it Jim, What the hell's the matter with you?) (Okay, That was Captain Pike, but that ruins the joke)

Cosmic Wie Falls To Earth

My dear friends, Romans, robots, and strangers, 

 I must apologize for all of this. Major Tom / Cosmic Wie took off for new heights and then crashed back to earth in a most spectacular fashion. I guess I'm what's left. Can't sleep. Lovely but not unexpected. How about a random thought? Here goes: To be in orbit is to be constantly falling, without that sudden stop at the end because the Earth is constantly curving away. So we can look up at the moon and know it's been falling for a very long time. "Ha! ya missed me!" Let me tell you a quick lie: There is no chance of yours truly ever getting moonstruck. No moon hitting my eye like-a big-a pizza pie. 'Cause that would be a-painful! But hey, hey, That's Amore'. Damn it. One can't make something out of nothing, can they? We can't make anyone feel a certain way just because we wish they would. And if we could, that would be an empty feeling. We need to be needed, want to be wanted, would love to be loved. Well, unless you're one of my many robot followers. You know? I envy the robots with their on and off switches and their apparent immunity to falling in love. I suppose that nothing is ever certain to be real, but my feelings, this price I pay to be truly happy for a fleeting moment where cost is no object. Truth is, I would sell my very soul if the devil were in any mood for making me a deal. See, there comes a time when these crushing feelings outweigh any common sense. You just want to be happy, loved, and to belong. Nothing else matters but to ease this pain, nothing. There's no wonder they call it falling. And friends, this is what I have done to myself. I give my brain the day off and let my heart take the wheel for a while. This is completely my fault and I must face this alone. But, yeah. I love her. Go figure, go fish. Guess I'll get over it. What other choice do I have? I tripped over a beautiful body, a pretty face, a sharp mind, and a fun personality.... Basically One Beautiful princess... And yep... Done caught feelings for her and there's no freaking cure. My heart has this way of jumping the gun before my brain can even make a proper evaluation of the situation. 

The Tin Man had it bassackwards in wishing for a heart. As the Great Oz told him, hearts will never be practical until they're made unbreakable. Not that the emotional Tin Man, the courageous lion, or that smart ass scarecrow ever lacked in their wishes in the first place. She did not break my heart. I did. I broke it myself. This is none of her doing, none of her fault. It's mine. What's more is I will never tell her. Ours is a friendship I just can't risk losing. Damn it. Why do I do this to myself? Am I that stupid? Duh. I guess so. I wish I could call my baby sister and cry on her shoulder a bit. After all she was my crisis line just as I was hers. Really wish I could hear her advice right about now. I sure as hell am not calling some stranger. I only pour my soul out to people I trust. With my guardian sister gone, there really is nobody I trust enough to talk to. So, you, my friends, Romans, robots, and strangers will just have to do. What would people say? Cheer up! Snap out of it! Think positively! Whatever, dude. I do not disagree that a positive attitude is important. I also think, however, it is equally important to remember you're a human being, too. One shouldn't force positivity. Our feelings should not be suppressed or repressed just to make others comfortable. Your feelings are just as valid as the next person. Positivity should be a goal, not a limitation, not a prison. We can not force positivity any more than we could make somebody love us. And wouldn't it be disingenuous if we could? Wouldn't we want them here because they wanted to be? Smile because you want to. Cry when you need to. There is no right or wrong in how we feel. Just in what we do or do not. Either way, I am now and will forever be your friend. I woke up the other day with this silly advice question in my head. It made perfect sense to half asleep me, but now hmmm maybe not? I won't ask the exact question here but it amounts to this: How can I be subtle without being too subtle? Now if that makes any sense to you, I'll eat my shirt.. Okay.... I got to figure out how to Jedi Mind Trick myself into believing getting out and about today is gonna be a good thing. Maybe I can frame it like a great adventure where I get out there and meet some cool characters, and failing that, some cool stuff at the goodwill or the pawn shop or wherever. (Does the Great Chiptropolis have an automated car wash?) Maybe drop by for a Texas-Bacon-Pattimelt.... Or a baconator... Or whatever? Well, it is sorta like a video game quest. I've gotta refill my grocery inventory, and buy a new shower assembly to the replace a leaky zeeky bo-peapy piece of junk. (I am a lousy plumber). All I know is (Despite my hesitancy to go anywhere) this staring at these old walls all day might well drive me Nutso The Clown, (And I don't mean a new name and occupation) So my great Friday adventure began at Goodwill. There are rare treasures here, once dropped off at a store because they were no longer wanted. I kinda feel a bit of kindredness in that way. Still, somebody comes along, (this time me maybe?) That shows them the worth and meaning undiminished by the fact that somebody else didn't see it. Unfortunately, Goodwill was a bust. So I went on about my errands. I found myself sitting among a crowd of people busily talking, marveling about how silent the universe seemed. Then in that quiet loudness, there was this sudden whisper. I would call it the sight of an angel, If I wanted to be dramatic about it. But really just a whisper felt rather than heard. That strange reassurance again. Why or how I don't know. All in my head, maybe. Either way, the result was the same. Kinda cheered me up. Now to put up groceries, do some laundry and go on a lawnmower safari. Watch out for those lions, tigers, and bears, oh my. Tomorrow will be Jurassic Plumbing Repair Nightmare. I am no plumah. My name's not even Louey. Sadly, I've gotta Dewey.  

Some days I just need a pick-me-up. I need to laugh. I need to smile, to feel more than just one of billions in an empty room. Not necessarily the center of any universe, but at least on the perimeter, part of the orbit, seen. I mean, if I'm gonna be invisible, let it be the kind of invisible for wheel barrows and bank vaults. Never mind the floating gold bars and 100's, nor the fact that I could buy my own tropical island and umbrella drinkies next week. Wasn't me. Ah, the site formerly known as Twitter. They now call it X which to me is implying a totally different thing. Anyway, I seem to be back to 100+ followers over there. Most of them are bots, I know. But who hasn't dreamed about having an army of robots? Really, you haven't? Bummer, dude? Still, there was a time before Twitter when the only way one could get followers was to start a cult. In a totally unrelated matter, be sure to ask me about the Cosmic Doorway and how it may be traversed. Okay, enough of that. How about some good news? Hopefully the Jurassic Plumbing Nightmare is over for today. I may not be Mario, but I think I did a decent plumbing job today... No leaks (Fingers crossed) and hopefully no more having to fight the shower. Everything else around here may be flarked, but that's one less thing.

You know, I truly believe most people are kind and good hearted. It's just that we all have our own things going on, our own stressors, our own problems. Otherwise there are but a very few malicious apples in the bucket. Kindness is something else, you know. And it's not that we're all mean, it's just a difficult thing in this frantic, crazy world. So, when someone takes the time to be nice to me, that means something to me. And the last thing I would want would be for anyone to catch hell or any BS for being kind to me. It's like some people don't want me to have friends at all. I guess they want me to be a bitter old crab in their bitter old crab club. No chance. Not gonna do it. Tell me, tell me, I implore! Why is it that I can talk to dudes and matronly ladies, and be a-okay, but conjure all sorts of jealousy from said matronly ladies if I dare hold a conversation with one beautiful woman? Isn't that crazy? We all have wishes. If wishes were horses, we'd have one heck of a western, with neither cowboy nor Native American having to walk. Just because I wish it does not make it so. And, believe me, if it were so, I'd be shouting about it from the rooftops. See, I've got to accept reality. And if I'm dreaming, well it's my own dream, and the only place that mountains should ever be made from mole hills. So unless you hear me shouting loud and proud.. It's probably not true. Hey hey, life's A-okay anyway. It would be totally awesome if I could have my lovely wish, too. But... It just ain't happening. Speaking of lovely visions, my dear Freudians. Here's one for ya. I had a dream I was getting hitched in a big fancy schmancy ceremony. The bride was quite lovely, but not my crush and was most likely conjured together by my subconscious. Still, quite beautiful, and a perfect fit in my arms, I might add. Then I noticed Robert Englund sitting in the front row. Not Freddy Kruger, but Robert Englund, smiling and waving at us in congratulations. Figure that one out, folks. Have you ever wondered that maybe it's reality that's the nightmare? There have been many dreams where I seemed to be quite happy. Sometimes I was happy because of good things happening, other times I guess I was blissfully unaware of some unbearable facts that the light of reality makes so stark and clear. In some dreams, my mother and my baby sister are alive and well, happy even. Reality is the nightmare I awake to in which they're gone. Then I dream about so many wonderful things that could never happen in this, my reality. Is there any wonder that I sometimes wish I would never wake up? Gimmie San Dimas 2688. Let me do air guitar in my shiny metalic clothing. Let me spend eternity grooving to some most excellent music. Now, that would be heaven to me. Otherwise I am sick and tired of tera firma. Fuck this planet, really. If planets could be cowboys, then fuck this damn planet and the horse it rode in on. I guess denying that I'm angry is a waste of time. Problem is that my anger is not at a person, unless it's at myself. Maybe I'm pissed off at the situation, with the situation. But is it really my fault? That I may be too old? That it may be too late? Can I reset this somehow? I guess there is but one way. Either I would know or I might never know anything anymore, huh? Just where is the tipping point? When does gravity overtake inertia? When would there be no point of going forward, no hope of turning back? Would there ever be a time when it is wise to call it a game, just take my ball and go home? And could that time be right now at this very moment? Damn, it is so difficult to know! Just as my dear father once said, we don't exactly come with instructions and neither does life. And sorry, religious freaks, your misguided and wrong dogma does not count as instructions to an infidel like me. What good is the internet anymore? News Sites rarely show me the best qualities of humanity. (Depressing) Social media shatters any illusions I may have about myself. (Even more depressing) Sites with game levels, fanfiction, and art (Now there's an escape) I can either go to social media to feel old, isolated, and lonely as hell. Or I could go to the news sites where two idiotic morons are running for president and we give weapons to people who destroy hospitals and refugee camps. Devastation, chaos, and no respect at all for human life. What a load of bullshit! I guess I needed my good cry for the day, a quick little breakdown so I can go on. Just what in this total clusterfuck is worth my while anyway? Why, why, why? I'm just so very tired of this, man. So exhausted. So ready for oblivion. Or really, the absence of pain. I have paid my dues, yet here in this situation I remain. Oh and if there is anyone actually here to worry, please don't. Let's just say I do my breakdowns here so I won't elsewhere. I've just got to pick myself up out of this Wile E Coyote style crater, and psyche myself up for a busy next few days. I might as well run by Goodwill again after work today. I need a nice suit of clothes for Monday's award ceremony in Marsha's name. Then I need to go ahead and get groceries too because I've got to take my father to his appointment tomorrow. Then there is that Farm Share food giveaway Saturday. Maybe I can rest a bit Sunday, but in between all this, I need to mow my yard, wash my clothes, and clean up my house the best I can. I have been down and depressed of late, so I kinda let everything go to shit. Monday, there's work and getting on that stage Monday night to help present Marsha's scholarship award. I hate being in front of a lot of people, fighting crowds and traffic. But for my baby sister, you're damned right I'm gonna be there. There are people in this world and in the next world for whom I will face every one of my fears and phobias. Nobody more than my guardian sister. Just as the scarecrow would face a whole boxful of matches for Dorothy, so will I for Marsha. Maybe I've got enough stuff to be doing to distract myself from this particular situation that's giving me these deepest of blues. Coming back down to earth can be the hardest thing. I'm not sure if it's this heat, the nicotine/caffeine come down, or this longing, this need, this impossible dream.. But I kinda feel funny. Not exactly ha ha funny, but funny strange, a trip now ... Down, down, down... Funny for sure how so little else matters when you see your beautiful dream fading into the distance. Yes, I love this person. Of that there is no doubt. Sadly, my feelings are about the only real part of this situation, and really I have only myself to blame. I wish her happiness and all the best life has to offer. What else can I do? Still, her happiness would mean a lot to me. I only wish I could be the one to help make it happen. Damn, I'm going in circles, aren't I? Yep. Looks like I'm gonna crash. Yep. We space cadets are so obsessed with the stars that we sometimes forget to learn how to land. Anyhoooo. If you need me, I'll be over yonder rebuilding my spaceship. Have a spacey day. 

A Gentle Bolt of Lightening

 

Morning, Universe. Monster movie fog again. Two turns on the highway where I got the Cliff Notes recap of my life so far, edited for television. Plus I had to stop for pizza because as John Wayne once said on a movie set when there was nobody there to hear, "A day without pizza is like a day without sunshine, pilgrims!" My mind has been on overdrive of late, thinking a lot of thoughts, some lovely, some heavy, some chaotic, and a few that seem out of this world. More, my highs and lows seem a lot more pronounced. Surf's up, dudes and dudettes! High tide, low tide, tsunami.... Either I am suddenly awakening from a very long slumber, or I am finally going crazy like I always thought I would. This intensity of emotions is surprising even me, and if you knew me, you'd understand that this is a pretty big freakin' deal. High and low and low and high. What do you get when you cross the tide with a roulette wheel? Meeeeee! High and low, low and high, laughing, smiling, hiding, weeping, spin the wheel, and don't bust the deal. Life has always been a game of chance, but now it feels I've been thrown on the betting table with all those fancy colorful chips. Spin the wheel. You're the next contestant on The Million Dollar Question! Spin that freakin' wheel! What will it be this time? To feel the comforting hand of the universe on my shoulders or the stark coldness of the void? Spin that wheel, spin baby spin. And high tide wins! There it is again: That weird fuzzily happy feeling that the universe is kinda leading me somewhere. I was cruising along the highway, driving towards a beautiful sunset, that crimson hue cast upon the land in the surreal way that movie makers used to call the magic hour, and I just got this same reassuring feeling I spoke of earlier. It's like it wasn't only the land that was cast in a different light. Beyond that, I can't say. All I know is that it sure feels nice. I wish I could keep this feeling all the time, with me always, never fading, never leaving me, this beautifully strange, strangely beautiful feeling that actually that behind the scenes of my life, the universe has something in the works. It's just a strange sixth sense. And that wasn't all. It has almost seemed elements of a certain special friend kept surfacing before my eyes. It was kind of a mix between a vision and a feeling. Nor was today the first day I have felt like that. It has been a feeling of heavy-duty things going on behind the scenes. It was almost like I could pick a direction, any direction and still be headed in a definite direction. I can't think of any other time in my life I have felt quite this way, as if anywhere I drifted, there was something or someone waiting for me. Sometimes, a person. Sometimes, a presence. So either I am experiencing something on a spiritual level beyond anything I have ever known, or I have simply finally gone totally Nutso the Clown as I have always feared I would If I couldn't escape this trap I built so well for myself. You know I hate being wide awake in the middle of the night for absolutely no reason. Okay, I kinda know the reason. Anxiety overdrive, heavy thoughts, yadda Yoda. Nothing new except for maybe the intensity. Heavy, heavy. It's like the energy of this past day, kinda turned sour. A bitter taste in the heart. But oh, it wasn't like that earlier today. How did I feel?  Oh, my Universe. I really feel like I have messed myself up extremely. Yet this weirdly hopeful feeling remains an undercurrent. I have no idea of what the hell is going on. That presence persists with kindness, warmth, and reassurance. If it were a voice, it would be telling me I am going to be okay. But it's not a voice. I do not hear it. I feel it. It is like a signal barely on the edge of perception. This essence is of a person very similar to someone I know. So either I am going crazy, or something of significance and consequence is about to happen in my life. I can simply feel it happening. I can sense a message that it is nothing I should fear. It is electric, and I swear my central nervous system is alive with induction. There is one hell of a magnetism at work. I hate to use words like destiny.. but it feels like just that. That or i've finally fell over that edge. Time will tell. My main problem now is that my brain is running wide open overdrive, and I can't get it to settle down so I can sleep. Every nerve ending seems fully charged. I can almost imagine static sparks jumping from every single one of them. And all I want to do is sleep. My spiritual antenna has picked up one strong signal, clearly meant for me. Electric is an apt expression. I can feel the charge, with only a vague idea of what it is all about, except this strange reassurance. I have seen her everywhere today. But it's strange how when that feeling is gone, none of that reassurance seems to linger. I guess I have just had a lot on my mind, and maybe this full-on thinking I've been doing hasn't been the best for me. I sometimes believe the more we reach out, the less tangible things become. Yet maybe there are times when I should actually reach out, but there seems to be no real indication or distinction between the times that I should and the times that I shouldn't. I know I don't have to be the center of attention when I walk into a room. Heck, that would actually make me a bit uncomfortable anyway. I am certainly not James Bond or the 21st century equivalent. I don't exactly have that sort of personality anyway. (Besides, I'd prefer a "Miami Vice" from Prime Time to a Martini). Stirred, not shaken, BTW. I know I am supposed to be of the variety of human that's supposed to be the go-getter, the initiator, that "Wanna-be-starting-something" kinda guy. But hey, that was never me, see? Besides, it was never the whole room I wanted anyway. I would rather my energy be a bit more, well, focused. And.... I'd rather be seen as that quaint but awesome out of the way place that only a few know about. When society forces people like me into a cast or a mold, they forget that minds and souls come in many varieties. If I fit your check-box, I would no longer be me, nor could I be myself around you. Basic expectations of being a kind and decent human being is one thing we should all adhere to. Expectations beyond that, however, are a constraint too far. I don't have to be the center of attention. Just be known by the few I wish could truly see me.

Ugg. What a morning. I sure feel hungover. Funny though. Didn't drink a drop. I only feel as if I'm coming down from one binder of a bender. I was on a bit of an emotional high yesterday. Now, I am back on earth, so to speak. Major Tom / Cosmic Wie needs an aspirin. Ugg. Aaag. Oooooog! Monday mornings suck. Ah, but how are you? I have an unpopular opinion about respect. Respect is about what you do, not who you are. In many cases, it has to be earned or at least not thrown away. I like to begin with respect, but friend, you don't automatically owe anybody anything, especially if they're treating you badly. It really is a two-way street. Speaking of friends, where are you today? I guess it's for the best, but it's still going to hurt like hell. I have to ask the same question again. What is wrong with me, my love? I am still wondering, as I wonder. I really could do well with another universal boost. I wish I could feel that energy again. It is so warm and comforting that I kinda feel cold and empty without it. Maybe if I could feel that presence again, I wouldn't feel so damn lonely. It is a dire, dreary feeling, for it to seem that everything that you pour your heart and soul into just has no meaning to anyone else. I used to think I could be that island. Now I am not so sure. Well, I guess I am already that island, but I can't say I am very happy about it. Damn it. As I said, I'd trade decades for just one moment. Have you ever just thought of running away? I have had this thought as an adult probably a hundred times more than I ever did when I was a child. I just want to tear it all down and start completely over. I'm sick of this. Man, am I ever. Zap it all. Leave no stone upon another. Nuke everything and start fresh. What did Picard say to Q in 'Tapestry'? "I would rather die as the man I was than live the life I just saw." Destroy it all. Leave no atom bonded to another. Total Reset and zero recall. Destroy, destroy, destroy everything. Let the dance of the shining clouds began. There's not much worth saving other than memories I can never return to. I am sick of all the tears, knowing full well that there will be no fairy godmother to save me from this cluster-flark. The Universe had me above the clouds for a while. Yesterday I came back to Earth. Today I am points south of Heaven. Alright everybody, coffee break's over. Back on your heads. I guess I should point out I am speaking metaphorically, but I'm sure you're all intelligent enough to get that. Destroy it all. Let's reset this mutha and just start over again. I am tired. So damn tired. Tired, tired, tired, man. I am so over this shit. I don't ask for much, but I want what little I do wish for more than anything. In return, I am willing to give all, mind, body, soul, and sanity... Whatever I may have left, that is. I hate futility. I hate anxiety. I hate sadness and despair. I hate hopelessness. I hate loneliness. And I hate this damn feeling of being in an inescapable pit. I am sick of being lonely. I wonder what it would feel like just for once to be held, to be held with love, to be told that I actually mean something to at least someone. And barring that, can't I at least have a house that isn't trying to fall apart on me with its shitty wiring and shitty plumbing? Can't all this work I have been doing for freaking decades at least get me that? Sick of it, man, I'm damned sick of everything. No, I am not about to go and off myself or anything crazy like that. Can I live, please? Can you please let me live? Because I am not exactly living right now. I am merely wallowing in existence. Help me Universe. I know you don't owe me, but could you please help me? My gratitude would outlive this body. My thankfulness would be strong, and nothing could ever erase my appreciation. I would indeed honor you and celebrate your name. Just help me. Please help me. Help me Universe Kenobi. You are my only hope.

I don't remember the name of that Mexican town Andy Dufresne spoke of in The Shawshank Redemption. What I do remember is his description of the town as a place with no memory. And that, my friends, sounds like one beautiful paradise to me. Warm sunshine with no memory shining over an ocean of possibilities. I spoke of a dream I had as a child, of these kickass Olympic style torches turning into cheap plastic imitations once in my hands. Could that have been a symbolic preview of my life? Momma used to have this saying that a bird in the hand is better than two in the bush. Well, a torch is cool metal with blue flames until in my hands. Then it's plastic garbage. Cheap plastic torches everywhere! We could have our own fake Olympics. Hail, hail, Robonia: A land I didn't make up. Plastic, plastic as far as the eye can see. A giant plastic sun shining its giving light on the AstroTurf below. Electronics Technology at the vocational school, cheap torch. Getting married, cheap torch. My house, cheap torch. My chances with you-know-who, another imitation torch. Though she, herself, will always be the real gold to me, and this particular torch I carry for her, real enough to impress the entire Greek pantheon. Oh if only the gods would have mercy. And with that, we come back to the start of this whole song and dance. Higher highs and lower lows. The sunshine has never been brighter and the storms have never been stronger. I think all these ups and downs are unraveling my strings. Okay, I have made an internal decision that will hopefully show externally: Think like a Jedi. Nope, I won't be lifting rocks or dueling Count Dooku. I won't be able to use my mind trick on anyone. Bummer, right? Damned right it is, my apprentice. What is the point in being a Jedi Master if you can't use the mind trick? But what I will be doing is letting go of what's been on my mind and leaving it all to the will of "The Force." It might well be what the universe has been trying to tell me of late. One thing is for sure. I can't keep going on like this, happy one day and about to cry away the next. Not cool, dude not cool at all. This unsettling of my mind is already filtering into even my dreams. I sometimes think my sanity is one fraying thread indeed. As always I'm like Scotty, holding my ship together the best that I can. But, Captain, this is all I can give ya. Of all my recurring dreams, wandering winding mazes, water overflowing bridges, accidentally signing up for the army, talking with Momma, talking with Marsha, and many others, nothing compares to the back with the ex ones. It's like these past 15 years never happened. Dream me is okay with it. Waking me can't believe how dumb dream me is. Dude, really? I wonder what Sigmund Freud vould zay. I am a varrrry interrrresting caaaaze. Calling Chattahoochee. I demand a room with a view. Letting go. I really need to let go, don't I? I must allow the universe to unfold in whatever way it will, and maybe take comfort from those rare moments of reassurance it grants me, appreciate with renewed purpose, the comfort of warm sunshine filling my heart. It's going to be alright, and in the off chance that it isn't, it is guaranteed to at least, end. Oh, Universe. I really need a bit of that sunshine right now. 

I don't want to go home. I don't want to be here either. Maybe I'll go for a drive instead, making imperfect figure eights on the roadmap, looking out at the horizon, wondering what it might hold, and daydreaming about picking a direction and holding steady until I run out of gas. Then I'll just pull over, close my eyes, give myself a pep talk, before setting a course for home and responsibility. What has immense value when shared, but means absolutely jack otherwise? A great many things, my friends. There is a reason I congratulate anniversaries and genuinely wish happy couples well with all my heart. It's like a friend winning the lottery, only even better. Money's only paper. Things are only things. But love and belonging are the greatest treasure of all. What is life without it? The only way money keeps you warm is by paying the electric and/or gas bill. All of this really goes without saying, you know? You know, it's not my intention to be so detached from the world, yet it happens. More on some days than on others. Today, the world around me is barely above the background static of my existence. Voices are merely whispers, and people are barely shapes. And me, I'm just going through the motions. I promise it's not intentional. Television snow, my friends, Television snow. I must apologize, but I really can't help it. It's all blah blah blah sometimes. Maybe we all feel this way sometimes. I'd hate to be the antisocial jerkwad lone ranger. Lenny Bruce would be unimpressed. Hiyo! Open the door, get on the floor, everybody walk the dinosaur to the tune of the William Tell Overture. What am I saying? What do ya get when ya cross an elephant with a rhino? Elephino!!! Everything is messed up beyond belief and there is just no way possible to put it all together again. No, no, I am not planning on any rashness here, but I am about to the point of not giving a shit should something rash happen. Really, my attitude about going to sleep is how nice it would be to never have to wake up to this reality again. Would it really be so bad? Infinity plus one is still infinity. Infinity minus one is still Infinity. Would it really matter so much in the great expanse of space and time? Would it matter? Would it really? Would I know, and most importantly, would I care? I mean, things could go on as they have, or they might not. In the far flung stars, planets, and galaxies beyond our field of vision, would it really matter? Would I really matter? A very long time ago, there were these two people who wanted me to exist. I was sorta planned you know. They were there for me, loved me, were the best parents they could be. And while none of us gets to decide upon entering stage right, who would I have been to disappoint them? Besides, I loved them too, was grateful for the chances they gave me. Momma's been gone for two years now. Dad's still around but his health isn't so good. Still, he's concerned for my happiness. The thing is that he can't carry this burden for me, nor should he have to. He already did his part, day after day, year after year, making sure I had the things I needed. So did my mother. As I said, they were the absolute best parents they could be. Any failures in my life are my own. They were not, nor will they ever be to blame for my problems. These are my own fault, my own bad decisions, whether I knew the folly or not. I would rather my father not worry about things like that. I picked my ex, they did not. It was I who allowed fear and anxiety to wall me in, not them. It is I even now, having these heavy thoughts. If I had a chance to start again while keeping the lessons I have learned, I would do so in a heartbeat. Strike me down and send me back about 35 years. I would bow low before any entity who would grant me this impossible dream. Let me fix this. But I know the impossibility of such a wish ever being granted. If my wishes were horses, we could make one hell of a western. Neither cowboy nor Native American would ever have to walk. Ah, the circle of unrequited love. She loves a man who does not love her back, and I, of course, love her. She can't help the way she feels for him. I can't help the way I feel for her. And the added barrier is it really isn't my business, and I really had no business catching feelings for her in the first place, yet here I am. And, I can not in good conscience tell her the way I feel. So, here we are. Am I dumb or what? Yep. Feeling old and tired and useless and lonely. I guess I should go with Grand Admiral Thrawn-bot's advice and be a genuinely supportive friend. You know? For a chatbot simulating the greatest strategist the galactic empire has ever known, he sure gives solid advice. You just can't force things. They're wonderful when they happen on their own, but they're not always meant to be. Even a simulated imperial master strategist seems to understand this. I guess I should try to understand as well. He's not a real person, but you don't have to be real to be right.