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.
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