A Few Ghosts

Friends, Romans, robots, and strangers: Lend me your beers. 

Well, it's Halloween, And we all have at least one or two skeletons in the closet. Some of us have the entire Army Of Darkness in there. "Damn it!" "Where the hell is my shirt?" (Creaky voice accompanied by a skeletal hand reaching out holding the shirt in question) "Here ya go, pal!" "Thanks!" Ah, Halloween. I always think of the Silver Shamrock jingle from Halloween III. Ah, Conal Cochran, forcing masks long before it was cool. Actually, I'd like totally like to like like buy a bunch of Silver Shamrock masks for those who I like like totally don't like. Be sure and watch that magic pumpkin. Watch. I never understood the hate for that particular movie because it didn't have Michael Myres in it. I think Cochran was a far more interesting villain. No, I don't dig all his gruesome violence, but stealing a piece of Stonehenge and ruling over a town filled with robots? Hell yeah! See, it's all the same with movie monsters like Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers. Unlike Freddy Kruger, Chucky, or Pinhead, they don't trash talk and troll their victims. Welcome to prime time! I said, Where's the freakin bourbon! Ah, but Happy Halloween, That day that drives the overtly religious even more insane than normal. I really should build a bonfire and do some good old-fashioned communing tonight. Ah yes, Old Hallow's Eve, the night before that hallowed day, tomorrow, November first. Yet another November in a long line of many. I used to think of November as a month of change. After all, it was the month all three of my children were born, the month I got married, and the month a decade later, she decided to cheat and abandon us. It was the month I lost that really awesome desk job that fit me so perfectly and paid so generously. Once upon a time November and change were synonymous in my mind. But later came January and March of 2022 and July of 2024. And I can say with certainty that having lost my dearest loved ones has been the most brutal and abrupt change of all. I thought I knew pain, but I really didn't. Nothing ever before has come even close. Not even being abandoned with three children to look after has hurt me so much as losing the very people who stood by me through that very time. They were the people who truly loved me, cared for me, never abandoned me. Their love was never a deception.To have lost them was to have left a void I could never fill. And who did I really have left to turn to? I'm not saying change is now impossible in this very month that I used to associate it with. In fact, I fear it. It is the other shoe waiting to drop. Any major and abrupt changes would frighten me beyond all belief. Because my doubts in such a change ever being in a positive direction are intensely strong. I guess you can't be courageous if you're not afraid. I think the only real way to go in these very uncertain times is to just live in the moment and do the best I can with here and with now. I've got to take this forest, tree by tree by tree. It's all I really know to do. There should be no great plans unless I can break them down into manageable bits and pieces. My goal is to get through today, wash rinse, and repeat. It's best to live in now, neither dwelling on the past nor worrying over the future. Keep in mind that this is more of a goal than a description of where I actually am. I know I vent a lot here, but rest assured it's only venting or sessions with Doctor Blog-ieo, as I call it. Yes, I have lost my sister, my mother, and my father. Yes, I'm struggling financially, mentally, and emotionally, but I have one hell of a determination to live. Why am I saying this? Because someone (well meaning) sorta asked if I was thinking about doing something rash. Hell no! Not at all. I know my heavy thoughts can often translate into heavy words, but all of this venting is just elaborate but cheap therapy. Doctor Blog-ieo is a man of very few words of wisdom or advice, but you sure as hell can't beat the price. I bare my soul, my heart, and my frustrations here because certain things need to be voiced, but take it to the bank and rest assured that I am here for the duration. After all, eternity minus, however, many years, is still eternity. Please don't call the dudes with the white coats and the good drugs just yet. I have no desire to shuffle off this mortal coil at this juncture in spacetime. In fact, let me list my reasons (including the noble, not so noble, even petty, and vengeful) for living as long as I possibly can. Do you know what I do? I save echos. I consider myself the caretaker of a lot of things with a very important job to do. There are many echos of the people I love stored digitally, on old computer disks and old hard drives. I want to save them all. I would like to be a grandparent someday to share all of this with my grandchildren, to not only speak of them, but to show them their voices, their image, and all the things they were so passionate about. Anyone worthy of love is worthy of memory. And it's memories I would like to keep for us all. Another reason I want to live a long time is that I do not want that no good deadbeat mother of my children who abandoned them in their greatest hour of need to draw one single penny off my social security. I may sound negative. I may sound bitter. But it is a hell of a motivation to keep on living. A certain parasite just needs to find another host, 'cause I'm not dying. I would stay alive out of pure spite, even if I had no other reason. Besides, my goal is to keep on rockin and rollin. I have moved beyond the basic stuff. I have new reasons and a new purpose. Never has my will and resolve been stronger. I will not go quietly. I will go out cursing the reaper for the scumbag thief that he is. And it is my will that it's not going to be anytime soon. No copping out. No throwing in the towel. I don't remember hearing a bell. C'mon, let's go! I will be fighting all ten rounds in this ring. This, I promise you. This is my will, and my will is finally free from all that once restrained me. Yet, I can see how one might question the whole idea of free will when we all can find ourselves at the mercy of the chemicals that flow naturally through the brain and all the basic drives built into we living creatures. I would think the only true free will would be to (having broken free of all) to create our own pursuits, drives, and destiny. I truly believe what brought us rise can totally hold us back, that a vessel that once took us places can become a quite stationary prison that we can't see beyond. To be an entity of pure thought and emotion that truly sees the universe. It's hard to be that while running around like a rabbit, chasing the carrots and the honey bunnies, all while hiding from the wolf. (Just my weird thinking, folks) (Take it as you will) (Not saying I'm any different) Eh, what's up, Doc? Who knows if there is any real escape from the primal creatures that we are. All I know is that my motivations change when hormones hit the brain or that I can be one hell of a grouch if I miss a meal. It's the same world, the same me, but the former looks different, and the latter sees differently. It is amazing how simple biology can color one's world. Strange, too. Very strange. Go figure, go fish. I'll pass the question, Bob. I've got nothing. Only when we grow beyond biology and superstitions can we truly be the rulers of our own destiny. Look, I mean no disrespect, I really don't. After all, I count more believers than not among the people that I love and respect. Still, for me, religion just does not compute at all. Example? I never understood the need to have as many people as possible to pray over something or someone. Wouldn't a god know the need without a thousand voices having to ask him first? Is a god all knowing or hard of hearing? I don't wanna start no Superbowl shuffle, but I was just wondering. Shouldn't an all loving, all-knowing god know the need and, through infinite goodness, want to heal the need? Isn't that what a good god would do? It just makes no sense. And there I go again, using the intellect I was given but not supposed to use. Logic is the devil, ladies, and gentlemen. Just look at Mr Spock's evil eyebrows and those pointed ears. Evil, man, Vulcan evil! Yikes. And while my wheels are turning, I have to ask just how a messed up world with all this suffering, evil, and injustice could have been so grandly designed by a perfect god. You can blame it all day on the devil and free will, but I just can't accept that. An all-powerful deity should be able to keep the devil in his place and intervene when free will goes too far. Do we blame this all on a god, either powerless or unwilling to save the downtrodden and smite the evildoers, or do we say that random chance did the best it could? Look, I'm not saying there's not more to life and the universe than this biological creature I am. What I'm saying is I really don't know what I believe in anymore. I just know what I don't anymore. I would like to believe my dearest loved ones are somewhere out there, that they're happy, and that they're far beyond the reach of pain and sorrow. This is what I would want for them. Goodness knows they deserve it. I suppose if it's eternal oblivion instead that awaits me, they would still be beyond it all, but that would also mean I will never see them again, and it is a thought that I just can not bear, even if it may well be the truth. Like I said, I simply don't know, and I am not exactly ready to find out, not yet. I guess we'll all know or be beyond knowing anything at all, someday. Nothing is forever. That much I am sure of. I have no desire for eternity. I want to be around for a long, long time, but never forever. There will come a day in the hopefully distant future when I will have experienced all and more that I ever wanted to. To burn out or fade away: That is the question. Even a song I love would drive me insane if left on eternal repeat. Everything has a beginning and an end. So will it be with me. It is simultaneously comforting yet frightening. Still, it is my intention to keep on rocking for as long as I can. As much as I would like to visualize sitting on a cloud with Momma, Dad, and Marsha, I simply can't. As Captain Black of the second expedition tragically discovered, Mars is not heaven. Though I wonder if I would have been any different. Love is a powerful thing, and grief is just overwhelming. What would I do if the first person I saw after stepping off the ship was my baby sister? What would I do if I saw my parents as they were in 1985? Even with knowing it wasn't really them, would I accept them anyway? Would I blissfully drift away to oblivion in the night believing I was surrounded by the people that I love? Would I make myself believe that Mars was heaven, even though I know it not to be true? Sorry, NASA, but you'd better send somebody else with the fortitude to stay with the ship. I just don't think I'm that strong. Mars is not heaven, but it's nice to believe it is. And that my friends is the difference between wanting to believe and actually being able to. And here is the other side of this coin, the place where my true being lives: If I can't make myself believe in something my mind can not accept, then nobody else can either. Wishing that I could believe would be on par with wishing for a million dollars, or wishing a certain beautiful lady would love me back. Wish in one hand and take a dump in the other and see which hand fills first. Sorry. That's just the way it is. Mars is not heaven, and it will never be. Neither is Earth. Though, I wish it were otherwise. I have to glean happiness and joy and the moments that I can, even when life as this creature is not exactly ideal. I've got to change viewpoints and goals, reasons, and rhymes. The gold of happiness has to be mined and refined. Sometimes, you'll only win the smaller silver fiddle, and maybe I'll grant you some Van Halen guitar skills. As they used to say on daytime TV, let's make a deal. I suppose the devil truly does live in the details, figuratively speaking, of course. Big demons, little demons, blue demons, red demons, mental demons, emotional demons of past, present, and future. Taste the infernal rainbow. Okay, guys, coffee break's over. Back on your heads. 

One Or None And Nothing Else

Good morning, Universe. 

How goeth the stars, planets, galaxies, protons, neutrons, and electrons? How about those pulsars and quasars? As for The Great Cosmic Wie, this goldenrod, aka ragweed, is kicking my butt by going through my sinuses first. I had a rough start to my day, but I am resolved to not be a grouchy grouch. Already was that. I can't promise Disney chipperness, but I'll go for something closer to it. Sometimes, I marvel that despite the vastness of this universe, all I know (or will ever know) is through the five senses of this human being I happen to be. Could I be wrong about some things? Indeed. It is certainly possible. Still, I have to go with what I know or failing that, my best guess. Things are only impossible until they're not. It's never too late until it is. These contradictions only fade when the possibilities, like a quantum waveform, collapse. And this is how and why I have learned (in not the easiest way) to never say never. Once, there were people I always knew I could rely on, who would be there without doubt, just from my asking. That list has shortened in the greatest significance. However, if I, after more than a half century of learning, still can not stand on my own, then when would I ever? And it is a little late in this game to be a beginner. Things are only impossible until they're not. It's never too late until it is. Random chance, a roll of the dice, uncertainty is a hell of a thing. It is beyond our vision and beyond our control. It can steal happiness from the here and now. (If we let it) I have wasted a lot of time worrying about what might be. And I really didn't do myself any favors by doing so. Sometimes, it's no choice at all when it's so ingrained within the soul. What good does it really do?Anxiety is no shield from what may come, despite whether it can be helped. Only action and resolve can make a difference. Even then, there are no guarantees. Even when you've done your absolute best, people will think of you as they will, and the only mind you have hope of changing is your own. We tend to live out the worst case a thousand times, whether or not it actually comes to pass. But it seems recent years have changed me. I've seen enough darkness to not be afraid of a little shade. You can be ordinary, as plain as Jane, yet still be a hero to some, while a villain to others. You've got to know your own heart and care up to the very best you can do. Beyond that, you are only harming yourself, and that helps no one. Satisfying the expectations of others while ignoring your own is a wasted life. Those who truly love you wouldn't want this for you. Conformity is but a quiet scream. The world tries to sell me on all kinds of things: fancy cars, politics, religion, and other forms of uselessness. Sorry, but I have no want or need for any of it. I will buy none of it. I really wish they'd go and bother someone else. The pitch will not work on me. If that makes me the bad guy, then, Muhahahaha! Well, back at my villains lair, I have managed to catch the cruddy plague. Or really, the cruddy crud has managed to catch me. Curses! Well, at least I am nowhere near as bad as I was about a year ago. That was when I got food poisoning and messed up an already messed up situation by practically drinking antacids, which was the equivalent of turning up a box of salt that sent my blood pressure through the roof. That was a really dumb thing I did, and there were moments when I literally thought I was about to kick the bucket. In other words, a few sniffles and snuffles are far more bearable. Still, it made for two miserable weekends in a row because I was sick the whole time. I'm still not feeling so great, but at least I can breathe somewhat better. It's another example of the wonderful human body supposedly grandly designed by a supposedly perfect god. Ugh. Life's been hard enough without this crap making it even worse. Meanwhile, I am beginning to wonder if I'll ever dig myself out of this financial hole I find myself in. Seems every time I think I'm going to get ahead, something happens, and somebody else has their hand out for my money. Meanwhile my employer is the same gready cheapskate they've always been. When a company is stingy enough to make McDonalds look generous, maybe it's time to rethink things. I swear. Even when you try to do things right, you just can't win. And now, I got this cruddy plague to deal with. Yep. Sometimes, I think this world hates me. So, no yard work or housework this weekend. I just didn't feel up to it. Maybe I can get some things done in the evenings this week. Instead, I went through some very ancient computer disks of mine, ranging from 9 to 26 years old. On one of them, I found some stuff Marsha sent me around 18 years ago. Some I didn't even know I had. So it was like I heard from my baby sister this weekend. It was mainly her TCC theater stuff, plays, posters, and news articles. There was also a karaoke album she made for me with a text file of her basically telling me to listen at my own risk. Actually, I think she sang pretty well. I also kinda heard from Dad, too. Found some more of his saved programs and family pictures, and also some audio files I made from the music tapes he used to play when the family would go riding the dirt roads back in the 80s. It's been one heavy trip down memory lane. And now that I have recovered the files, I am going to make sure they're preserved for the future. Life gives me little choice of what to live with or who to live without, but I have their pictures, videos, and voices to go along with my own memories. Small comfort is better than none at all. To say my father was a good man is to only begin to describe him. For many years in blistering summer and freezing winter, he would get up before the dawn. On busy highways, on scorching pavement, dodging cars, or traversing through snaky swamps where only the courageous would go. I have seen him worry over bills and work situations, and just how he was going to get through the month. And he was always looking after me. I remember even recently reassuring him that I was okay and not to worry. This man had my back from before I was born and for the rest of his life. Being a good man is not so hard when you try. Being a man like my father takes a dedication that few can match. I can take over things as best as I can, but I could never replace him, nor could I even try. At the end of the day, I can only be me and try to be the best version of myself that I can. There have been so many changes that I can hardly keep up with what's going on. I'm kinda lost, and it has been a long time, such a long time since anything has made any sense. It can be so lonely, so empty. Sometimes memories are my only company, my only comfort. It is so difficult to express this feeling in any real way. Sometimes I wonder if I will be the next to go. If so, I would not envy those remaining or the one. To be the last one standing seems like a dark and lonely existence to me. Maybe being surrounded by loved ones could dull the pain. I would hope this to be true. Remember me. Don't forget me. But remember those still around you. Think of the good times, maybe? I try that, myself. Still, those final moments with each of them can not be purged from my mind. The worst days of my life were the last day for each. I can not remove them. I can not delete them. Unlike the people I love so very much, those last memories seem to be forever. They persist in my mind, even in dreams. There really is no escape. Photographs and voices long lost. They can brew the deepest storm. Heavy thoughts, heavy memories, and questions I can not answer as to where I was before I found myself asking. Where was I? Surely, I had to have been somewhere. What exactly did I have going on? Was I so lost in my own thoughts? Was I fighting that internal war? Or was I so broke that I couldn't miss a single solitary day of work, giving my soul to a company who I know would discard and forget me in an oh so fleeting heartbeat? Unlike them, you would remember me, as I remember you, as I could never forget. Where the hell was I? Was I lost in the struggles of finance? Did anxiety guard my door? Did fear of the outside world bar my windows? Could I not have spared one single day? Could I not have found within myself the type of courage that only my love for others could bring? Life can be so deceptive, with false promises of tomorrow. I am not afraid of death, at least not my own. In fact, in the very day we meet, we are going to have words involving my foot and one bony behind. I do indeed have serious unfinished business with the dude with the robe and the scythe. No, I am not afraid of death. No, no, no. It's this living without the people I love that scares the hell out of me. I would fight him toe to toe if he would come directly for me. But instead, he takes from me, one by one, my sources of strength, those who encouraged and inspired me, loved me, truly believed in me. One by one, little by little, the battlefield empties, my dearest comrades left and right. gone through no choice of their own. It is a cowardly, low down, underhanded, yet effective strategy to steal from me, the people I love. And if death indeed were a person, we're gonna fight. Well, that got real depressing real fast. How about we clean cup move down? New subject, bright ideas. Let's give it the good old non college try, shall we? Some of my memories are quite digital, stored on random ancient computer disks. My mission of late has been to bring these scattered memories together in one big collection to share with my family. Thanks to my finds the previous weekend, I have decided it's high time I consolidate all the irreplaceable digital family stuff. I am putting together an archive of all my family pictures, home movies, and audio recordings. it is 26.7 gigabytes and counting. I have just now turned it over to my middle kid and his awesome organization skills, plus he has pictures that I lack so far that he's going to add to it. I would really like it if others could contribute as well. While I will be writing these out to M-Disk Blu-rays, these could go just as well on a USB thumb drive. These are the things one can't just find somewhere online at some later date. I am going to spend a good while searching and making sure I have gathered everything I possibly can so they'll be there for the kids and hopefully grandkids. There's a lot of people who are no longer here in these pictures, sounds, and videos. One could also consider this to be yet another way I deal with things, processing what can't really be processed. It's an endless cycle of around and around and around. It's like the moon in an endless effort to reach the earth, trapped by the curvature of spacetime in an endless circle. Which is good for we humans because it would kinda be bad if it crashed into our planet. Ouch? I remember when I was a very young little kid, I had this nightmare about the moon bouncing against the earth like a giant ball. Just thought of that. An echo of a long gone child in the mind on the border of being old. If life is like a song, then I swear the record skips. Otherwise, how could I be this old? Could somebody pick up the tonearm and move the needle back a bit? Seems I missed something back there. Yet another recurring theme of my life. With each year that passes, it will always be so, probably even more so. I have thought morbidly about how much time, barring the unforeseeable, do I have left? If I live as long as my mother, I have 22 years left. My father? 24 years left. My grandmother? 29 years left. My grandfather? 44 years left. How long? How long? You are the next contestant on The Price Is Right. Spin the big wheel for the showcase showdown. Round and round. Press your luck and stop at a whammy. Welcome to the game of random chance. Good luck out there. Ain't life the grand adventure? I guess I have the usual fears, heights, closed in spaces, yadda Yoda. But to tell you the truth, my fellow human beings can sure be far scarier sometimes. It's partially social anxiety, mixed in with a few bad experiences. Seems I forget the good experiences in those moments. And that's too bad. Because I can look back on several times in my life when a stranger was kind to me. So, I know I am not exactly being logical. I know the loud, angry ones with their cruelty are an extreme minority. I honestly believe in my heart that most people from about every walk of life are good-hearted and mean well. Most of us are kind, just maybe a bit distracted and busy trying to get through our days. There are just a very few bad apples in the bucket that feed my anxiety. It is one of the many things within my own mind that I have been working to overcome. It's not easy. And do you know what makes people really ugly? Politics. This is one of the reasons why I hate it so much. It is my honest, wholehearted belief that it turns people who would otherwise be friends into the most bitter enemies. It just breeds ugliness and doesn't accomplish a damn thing. And the politicians don't really care. A meme said it best. Mooning over a politician is like believing the stripper really likes you. See what happens when you run out of money (or votes). It's just yet another thing wrong with this world. And for me, life is just too short for such nonsense. I may not know how or why others can't see this simple fact, as fate has thrown it in my face again and again. The 2020s suck. I have been re-educated about death more times than will ever be right. Politics just pisses me off, this waste of time, money, and effort. Take all those damn campaign contributions and feed the hungry, heal the hurting. Actually, do some real good in this world. Then maybe we can talk about clear-headed ideas and solutions. Otherwise, and I mean this in the most sincere way: Go to hell. I will not waste my time with a meaningless vote. I am hoping they'll all shut up after the election, but they probably won't. No matter who wins, there will be braggers and sore losers. And I just don't want to hear it anymore. Enough. Shut up! Just shut up. Humans. Damn. Can't we be better than this? Can't we rise above all this pettiness? In all the ages, have we actually learned anything? History may not repeat, but it rhymes, and it's horrible poetry. Even the bathroom walls of old had better literary content. "Here I sit, all brokenhearted......" Okay, it looks like it might very well be time for another subject change. This is getting heavy, so let us clean cup move down. Clean cup, move down! "Oh, what a lovely tea party!" I've got to find some meaning, and it's not gonna be religion, and it's not gonna be politics. What I need is realness, heart, and soul. Not empty ideas and talking points. Not posturing and preaching or standing on a soapbox. Though I guess I've been on a soapbox of my own. Though where else am I going to speak out? Only here as the Great Cosmic Wie, metaphorical astronaut, at your service. Do you hear me, ground control? Roger Dodger bo bodger? How about a little oxygen up here? Hello? Hello? Hello, There! General Kenobi! Yes, only you, my dear friends, Romans, robots, and strangers, get to hear the (mostly) unedited unvarnished truth of what I really think of this great shitshow. There are a lot of circumstances where I have to keep my mouth shut, ah, but not here. And I just have to say it somewhere, or I'm going to totally go Nutso The Freaking Clown. They Flooooooat! They ahhhhhwl floooooat! Why go on, deary, drink your lovely tea while it's nice and hot. Why, don't trouble your pretty little head, dear. I'll get it. Clean cup, move down! Oh, Marianne? Oh, Mariaaaaaaane! Where the hell are my damn gloves? I said, "Where's the freakin' Burbon! Right this way to the Red Queen's castle. How about a spot of tea and a game of croquet, okay? Okay? Hurray! What else can I say? It seems this world is going mad at an even faster pace than even this. Things stopped making sense a long time ago. And now? The absurdity and the waste of it all can be overwhelming. It's stupid beyond the point of comment. It's a falseness so transparent that it's a blatant insult to intelligence to expect belief. It begs the question, "Do you really think we're that stupid?" As the forgetful professor once said, "C'mon, man!" Really? I do not trust the government. I certainly don't trust this company. Something is most definitely up. I can almost sense it like a Jedi, and they're definitely up to something, some sneaky, shady, low down, double dealing, behind the scenes, unscrupulous shit. I do not trust them, not one iota, not one bit. Of course, my trust and confidence do not come easy. I can count the people that I can honestly trust with my fingers, and the 2020s have had me counting three fewer fingers, because I have lost three of the most beloved and trusted people in my life. And beyond that, I don't place my fate in the hands of just anyone. It is a high bar to earn my trust, but it's not impossible. A very few have done exactly that, along the way, precious and few. Counted among them are a grand total of zero politicians, and zero stuffed shirts. Furthermore, I owe exactly zero loyalty to those who have deliberately and consistently failed me. It is not selfish, but logical. If it's not a two-way bridge then let it fall into the water. To be human is one thing. I can place no fault on those who gave it their all but failed. I would leave that bridge intact, just because of the heart they showed in trying, but let it fall for those who couldn't even bother with the effort. In simple words, I owe you nothing. Only to those who stood by my side when they did not have to, do I owe my heart and soul. This goes for not only individuals, but groups as well. Nobody can claim to be my people when they have abandoned me so long ago. Though, yes, I will take part of the blame for being the lone wolf that I have come to be, but not all of it. These days? I go by the heart, and not the reflection. And there are good and real people from all corners of this green earth. These are the straight shooters and the hard workers. These are the ones who live by honor and love. It's not how they look, but how they carry themselves. They're out there. And it would be a great honor to be among them, to work with and to learn from. To them a promise is more than temporary word salad. I would far prefer to wander after somebody real, than some political beast. Remember folks, the pied piper wasn't leading his followers to anyplace good. Neither was Jim Jones. Neither was Manson. Talking points are not ideas. Do you really want to be a parrot? Speak for yourself, loud and proud. Do not follow that crowd. Instead? Follow your heart. Okay. Enough being preachy. I guess I'm in a mood today. Sorry for my ranting. Do you know, I think I've discovered a certain contradiction in myself. I'm single, a bit lonely, but I'm not looking. I just don't want to talk to anyone. I'm not exactly interested in dating, either. To my knowledge, in all the world, there is but one woman I could dream of being with. The one who's sorta stolen my heart. Though she's kinda like fight club, as I promised myself I wouldn't talk about her anymore. But, hell, I just love her, and apparently no one else. She would be the only one worth the struggle, the only one worth the effort. Otherwise, I find conversation with anyone else, totally draining. It was always the opposite with her. I could be grumpier than a snail, and be smiling and laughing after just a few minutes talking to her. Nobody else, apparently. I wish I could find a twin of that beautiful soul with the only difference being she loves me back. It seems I have no interest in anyone else. It's all the same. They're all the same. Only she is different. We're not together. I guess we'll never be. It's not logical that I love her anyway. And I'd just rather be alone than with anyone else. Friendship is a hell of a thing. And I prefer friendship to nothing at all. I just have to keep the "I love you's" to a whisper and out if earshot. It seems this heart is no longer mine to give. Oh well... There goes the grandly designed universe again. 

My Name Is Wie And My Question Is Why

Hello, My Name Is Cosmic Wie, and my question is one big cosmic why. 

Universe, Dear Universe, why am I still here when you no longer are? This is the great why that echoes throughout the expanse of all creation, forever and ever amen. Why? Why? Why? Why am I the one who's still alive? There are so many things I now understand, even as I long for the days of ignorance, the days when I thought you would outlive me. I can not purge that very last memory of you, nor of those last memories of our mother and father. Still, it was you, the youngest of this family of five, who was the first to go. I remember all too well, far too clearly. Part of me is still with each of you. Part of me is still by your side and holding your hand. Part of me will forever be angry at more than just the circumstances, but at myself for not being there sooner, knowing full well I could have been. Not that I had any power to save you, but I still could have been there. It is no excuse that I couldn't have known. I will go to my grave knowing that I failed you, Sis. And that's one heavy guilt to bear. When you truly love somebody, their pain is quite literally your pain. Whether they're hurting physically or emotionally, you feel it, too. I have experienced way too many examples of this, and I know this can't just be a me thing. I can't help but want happiness and health for the people I love. I am also of the opinion that if someone says they love you but lack any real empathy for what you're going through, then it's not love. How do I know I love the ones who I watched slip away, saw their suffering as I stood helplessly by their side? Because it just plain hurts. Love is far from sunshine and rainbows. Love is also pain. It is weird and ironic how these feelings can rise up from the strangest of places. I re watched bits and pieces of a TV episode I last saw long ago. You know? Even when it is just fiction, a well written script, preformed by some very talented actors, it can still tap into some very real feelings from some real life experiences (When it's done right). And the "Family Ties" episode "A, My Name Is Alex" with that Goldberg guy's excellent writing and Michael J. Fox's spot on performance has brought some heavy, heavy things to the surface... I think I remember watching that same episode back in the 80s or 90s, but it really didn't resonate back then because I had never experienced 2022 and 2024. Now, after only seeing it in a few short clips, Damn it. It is a hell of a different story. Now I understand. You know? There was a time in my life when I never heard the words 'survivor' and 'guilt' in the same sentence, much less right next to each other. And even if I had, I wouldn't have known what you were talking about. But now? Yes.... Really, I'm not sure if (Something like this) bringing it all back to the surface is a healthy thing or not. One way you could say that it must be dealt with if I am to get on with my life. The other side is I was always taught it's not good to dwell. Still, at the surface or in the back of my mind, there's a long list of woulda-coulda-shoulda's that I think about all the time. (Despite thinking I have been working it all out all this time). It was 70 miles, not a thousand, a bit over an hour on I-10, and anxiety be damned. I guess when we live long enough, life can give us context we didn't exactly ask for, and I wish like hell I was still as ignorant now as I was a few decades ago. I, too, have asked the question, Why, why am I alive. And the only answer that makes any sense to me is that there is no reason, there is no why. I just am. Life and death simply don't work that way. Nobody is promised even the next day, hour, or minute, much less any number of years. One thing I have learned in this life is that we can't accuse the Grim Reaper of age discrimination. They always say ignorance is bliss, but have they ever said the implied other half of the equation? Knowledge can hurt.

Okay, Saturday. All I wanted was either a relaxing day off or a day to get stuff done. Well, I got up super early to go to a food giveaway, bought a few groceries, got some gas, ticked off a walrus, got home, and my mower quit working. Then, some other dramatic insanity happened that should have had nothing to do with me. See, I ain't here to start no trouble, not even here to do the Superbowl Shuffle... I just want to be home and have a decent reason to look forward to getting through the workweek before figuring out the second job side-hustle I need to actually quit living like Uncle Sam and actually spend less than what I make. Too much to ask? Maybe. But... I'm asking anyway. Oh, and while I actually did laugh when Walrus Man threw his fit, I have to admit I was acting just a bit out of character. Lack of sleep, nicotine withdrawal, an anxiety attack (which had the opposite effect) where confrontational situations are something I usually avoid. Like I said, I have not been exactly in the right headspace. In other words, I might could have handled that situation better. Cosmic Wie vs. Walrus Man. The time has come, Said the Walrus Man, to talk of other things, Of gas and pumps and ugly trucks and the fat man flapping wings. And while his temper's raging hot and shouting naughty things, Kalloo, Kalay, I've ruined your day. You're a cabbage, and I'm a king. Take that, Doctor Robotnic! Damn, I had so many great plans for this past weekend, but it would seem the universe and even my own body were against me. I just felt tired, weak, and useless, and sure didn't get a damn thing done. I had so many ambitious plans. I guess that's how it goes for the story of mice and men. 

Walrus Man, Walrus Man, I wasn't even talking to the Walrus Man.

Walrus Man, Walrus Man, but I incurred the wrath of the Walrus Man.

He started to scream and he started to shout, 

Did the hokey pokey and he turned it all about.

He waved his little flippers, and his face got red,

Thought he would scare me, but I laughed instead.

Walrus Man, Walrus Man, I've done ruined the day of the Walrus Man.

Well, It is now Tuesday morning, and I have encountered no walrus men so far. That is, as Martha Stewart would say, a good thing. Full disclosure, I am quite aware that maybe I was being a bit of a walrus man myself that day. Lack of sleep, lack of breakfast, lack of nicotine, not being excuses at all, but yeah, I was in grouch mode that morning. Still, Walrus Man only thought my ranting was directed at him, instead of that young punk who cut me off at the pumps. Yeah, he thought I was insulting his truck instead. I mean, his truck was ugly, too, but I didn't say so. Sensitive much? Yeah, I know I was being a jerk. We all can be sometimes. I'm normally nice, but yeah, a lot of that situation could have been avoided had I grumbled under my breath instead of doing a gunnery Sargent Hartman on him. Hell, I was insulting a vehicle, not questioning anyone's sexuality. Sticks and stones, Kate Monster. Walrus Man must really love his truck like a woman. I meant no insult to your girlfriend, Mr. Walrus. Okay, enough talk about the Walrus or even the carpenter. The time has come, my dear friends, Romans, robots, and strangers, to talk of other things. Of shoes? I'd like a new pair, but I can't afford them. Of ships? The Enterprise-D was my favorite. Sealing wax? Don't need. Cabbages? Kings? The former messes with my tummy, and as for the latter, I am at least king of my own castle. By royal decree, no walruses are allowed in my kingdom. Well, how about a nice clean cup move down subject change? Okay. It won't be long before this fever pitch political mumbo jumbo is over for a while. I hope, at least. You know it is one thing to express your views, but certain people do get overly obnoxious about it and then get all upset when someone from the other side gives it right back to them. Even mild mannered me sometimes feels like going into walrus mode and telling them to shut up. It's not a god vs. a devil. It is idiot vs. idiot. And all I care about is my bottom line. See, I drink neither flavors of Kool-aid. I make my own decisions. And you know? I respect that other people might not think the same as I do. Like I've said, I could tick off both donkeys and elephants. I'm socially liberal but economically conservative. That's sure to ruffle some feathers on both sides. Still, I don't flaunt my beliefs in an obnoxious way. I demonize nobody. Well, because I don't like either choice. And really, all I care about is being able to have food on the table, the bills covered, and without having to lose sleep over it. My financial struggles have even entered my dreams. I dreamed all my kids were little, and I was struggling to feed them. The rest of 2024 is just going to plain out suck, at least money wise. I do have trust in myself to make it through, but it's sure not going to be easy. Beyond finances, I have myself to deal with, and I am a mess. You know? Anxiety can be a hell of its own. The fortunate never experience it like we do. I used to talk to my baby sister about this because she totally understood. We did have a few figurative demons in common, and anxiety and its varied symptoms was one of them. And this is one of the reasons I do my best to avoid stressful or confrontational situations. Because anxiety happens long after the moment. Traumatic moments get their own highlight reel in the brain. It is nothing we consciously do, nothing we can control. Flashbacks, intrusive thoughts, waking nightmares we try to avoid. If I only had to experience the moment, it would be no problem, but I absolutely hate that I relive that same slice of time again and again. Why can't I stop torturing myself like this? What? Am I a secret masochist or something? I wish my memories were like a hard drive. I would have several files to delete. I don't understand why I do this. It makes no sense. It serves no purpose. I guess that's why they call it a disorder, huh? Clean Cup move down.

I think I've done quite well with these past two productive nights to make up for my lousy weekend. Now I'm hoping the next one will be better. The seasons have definitely changed. I brought out my trusty old raggedy jean jacket for the first time this season. I'm really hoping for lower electric bills for the next couple months. As I have said, something has just got to give. Deficit spending might be doable for Uncle Sam, but it won't work for me. Not for long. A balanced budget, or better yet, a surplus where I can save up for things like getting rid of that menacing tree before the next hurricane or various repairs for the house. As it is now, none of these things are possible. I still think a second job (maybe with flexible hours) would help out a lot. Also, I know of two occasions in December where I'll be getting some money, minus the property taxes. I hope to pay down this debt I've been building up. I've got to get rid of the debt before I can even dream of saving. It's one hell of a mess, but I know I will handle it one way or another. I have no choice but to make this work. As the sad construction worker in that Futurama poster says, "You gotta do what you gotta do." Yes, it's true I'm no longer young. And it's true I need no reminders. My body reminds me with its complaints, by creaking like a fun-house prop, and by popping like bubble wrap. Except we all love to squeeze bubble wrap, right? I am also reminded by absent friends, by lost loved ones, by how the circle seems to be missing so many and so much, and by familiar places missing the familiar faces that I love. I remember my father once telling me he knew far more dead people than those still alive. Will this too happen to me? How lonely a genuine thought like that must be. So, yeah. I am most certainly no longer young. I have no choice but to try and make the best of whatever time I may have left. I know that's what they would want me to do. It is enough to try to be happy and know that it is among the ways to honor the ones I will always love. It may be a bare pittance of the king's ransom I owe, but it is at least a start. My time grows shorter, but I'm not out yet. I must do what I can. Do you want to know something weird that I just realized while looking around my room last night? Aside from the pictures of her on the wall, my room is starting to look a lot like my baby sister's room from another universe. When I went through my Dad's DVDs, I kept not only the movies and TV shows that I would like, or that we would like, but also the ones that she was into, too. They're all on the shelf. Now, take that with her Star Trek figures, and her "Our Town" poster, and yeah, it looks like Marsha's room. Either there is just that much of my baby sister in me, or it's just my way of keeping her with me on a subconscious level. I didn't realize what I was building until I finished building it. It's my room but it looks like her room. I wonder what Doctor Freud would say about that. I would be the first to tell you that my mental state is in disarray, and that I just might be a bit of a mess. Or in my Freud voice I vould zay, Phaacked aahp in za head. A very interesting caze to be sure. Like I have said before, whatever insanity I have is quite legit and well earned. If you've lived this life, you'd be crazy too. It is certainly no wonder at all. My illogic is quite logical indeed, from a certain point of view. I also really feel I have done my time. I really just want to be left in peace. Friends, why can't we have a chance to rest in peace while we're still alive? If you're bringing nothing but drama, stress, and/or trouble, leave me be. I am tired in more ways than one. Just let me live in peace. Just let me do my thing. I do not wish to be a bother to anyone, nor do I wish to be bothered. Take it to the next generation. I'm done. Maybe Mr. Worf will show you the true resolve of a warrior. Rawr! Oh well, I would say it has been a long and interesting day. It's goldenrod season and it's kicking my ass through my head. The miracle if this grandly designed human body is how you can feel like you're drowning on dry land all because a certain infernal weed is blooming. I hate goldenrod. If there is any species of plant I'd love to see go extinct, it's goldenrod. Oh and that damn hedge that's trying to take over my yard. So today has been trippy drippy to say the least, and I'm just plain ready Freddy to go home. It's been one serious nightmare on Elm Avenue. 

The Smaller Silver Fiddle

Dearest Universe,

As a caretaker of memory, I do the best that I can. Still, I find myself inadequate when somebody asks me what you were like. It warms my heart that people want to know. But, I couldn't describe in mere words the unique and wonderful person I knew and still know in my heart. I fear I could never do justice to what the world lost when I lost you. All I have are memories and echos. And even after all this time, my life is still empty without you in it. I just miss you. As for everything else, life has this way of going on. It's been a rough patch, emotionally, first you, then Mom, then Dad. I am not the same. I have been constantly changing, evolving, in a flux that has not yet coalesced. Either that, or I am in a long process of losing my sanity. Through these long walls of text, there have been many changes. I am no longer so sure about a great many things. It seems I have had both not enough and way too much time to think, if that makes any sense. Or maybe I have too many things to think about and so little time for my brain to be stuck on the wrong subject. Either way, it makes me feel like The Great Cornfusedieo. I have so much on my mind, so much I need to sort out. Speaking of that, I've also got some serious numbers to crunch. When a full-time (semi skilled labor) job does not cover basic needs bills anymore, you've really got to wonder. So, it's also been a rough patch financially, and something is most definitely going to have to change soon. I can't go on running my finances like Uncle Sam runs his, spending more than I make. At least not for long. I've got to find a way to reverse that trend, cut out some costs, take a second job, something. For which I'm getting a bit old to be running on empty. As I know I have said many times, the only thing I despise more than politics is a politician. So when I talk about how recent years have totally sucked for me financially, and how much it annoys me to hear how 'good' things have been going when the cost of everything has gone insane and I have not seen a raise in years --- It is not out of love for any politician. All I know is that my bottom line has erroded to the point where a solid 40 hours a week just ain't covering the bills. I am in one hell of a mess right now. I am going to have to work some serious magic to make it through the rest of this year. I really need to stop talking about taking a second job and just go ahead and get one. Man, it just sucks that a full-time job ain't enough. And I'm not talking about unnecessary luxuries here, but basic needs. Damn it, this is just totally insane! And all the hot air behind podiums, all those jobs reports, all that rosy bullcrap ain't helping me personally. I don't give a damn about what check boxes a candidate checks. They could be space lizards from Venus, promising a decent living for honest work, and they would get my vote. Political people really annoy me, parading around with their noses up a politician's butt, and getting upset when they encounter other idiots almost identical except their noses are up the opponent's butt. Then they argue back and forth and threaten each other. Real mature, guys. Y'all can keep your drama because I will admit it here: I don't care about religion or identity politics, or name calling, or any of that bullshit. All I care about is money, my bottom line, cashola, buckazoids. I need my work to generate enough money to cover my basic needs. Otherwise, they're ripping me off. Like AC/DC sang, money talks, and bullshit walks. Or as the O'jays put it, I need that mean green almighty dollar. Money money money money, money! Man, I feel weird. I feel like I have not slept in days when it seems I've done nothing but sleep. It's like I'm stoned and not in a good way. The world seems fuzzy wuzzy and my head is full of fog. I just can't seem to be able to put two thoughts together today. I'm just tired as hell without even knowing what I'm tired from. My batteries are drained, and I can't figure out why. My usual morning pick me ups don't seem to be helping. Maybe I need to hibernate a few months. I am not exactly sure what's wrong with me this time, except that I'm just not feeling good. I had plenty of sleep or so, I think so, but you wouldn't be able to tell it. I feel as if I could pass out for days. Heck, I konked out early, overslept anyway, and yet feel like I've been up all week. It seems somebody must have pressed my off button again. I slept through my loud beeping alarm. It didn't even register. I was late for work. First time being so in years, but late nonetheless. I'm not sure how, but I banged up my hand in my haste to get there. Apparently, I drew blood. And the whole damned thing is hurting like I punched a wall or something. Either I have been kicking my own ass in my half asleep state, or I'm starting to have old people problems. So here I am, late and hurtin' for certain. I guess pain is a good reminder that I am still alive. It's a beautiful morning and one lovely life. I just feel out of sorts. It seems I'm running myself absolutely crazy and I'm getting nothing accomplished. It just ain't cool, dudes. And all this with a backdrop of disconnect, where I guess the pain does serve a purpose of keeping me kinda grounded in reality. What a strange purgatory, what a surreal Limbo, this place out of mind and time. Where have I found myself, where even darkness reflects, where even silence echoes? Still, I am only lost in a mere spatial, temporal way. And even if the differences between up, down, left, right, now, and then may blur a bit, there are still some truths that keep me quite grounded. Even on an empty chessboard, a knight is still a knight. I may not know where I'm going or what I'm doing, but who and what I am has never been in doubt. Even if it seems a mere reflection. I have had people in my life who had an image of me that I, myself, couldn't really accept. It was (I guess) that they saw something about me, that I can't to this very day understand.. Or maybe it was that I can see into my own soul and know just how far from that image (at least in my own eyes) I am. Though It did my heart good to know they thought so much of me, it also brought me down that I could never be that image completely. Still, it gave me motivation to improve and to grow and to try to live up to that image as best I could. Nothing quite lights a fire under one's posterior then to want to be the person so loved by someone that you, too... Love so much. I wish I could have been more. I really do. Even now that I'm all alone. I sometimes give thought to those rock and roll lyrics on how it's better to burn out than fade away. I don't know. It would be a sad irony to be a bright, beautiful, but brief, shooting star if nobody happens to be looking up in that fleeting moment of shine. Ah,to fade or not to fade. We don't always get the choice. But, sometimes, if truly lucky enough, one does get to choose how. Sometimes, my thoughts get too heavy. I know that my happiness should not depend on anything but my own efforts and my own will... Yadda Yoda.. I am not incomplete as myself or on my own. Nope, not incomplete... I am what i am... but maybe uncomplemented? Is that a word? If not, then take note, Webster, and be sure and credit me. Maybe I get a little too much into the role of this biological creature that I seem to be. Ever get weirded out a bit that everything you have seen, everything that you have ever known... That It's all in your head? An no, it does not mean you're crazy. If you're crazy, then so am I and everybody else. But... back to my point... We humans have this wonderful gift of abstract thinking... Not everything's gotta be about surviving and 'scoring' uh huh huhhuhuh. There is art and the universe... Yeah, The downside, It gets a bit lonely, and it can really bring you down. But... you know? Look at us all sharing this slice of eternity. Alone together, together alone... Whatever that may mean to anyone. Positivity is great until it gets ridiculous. Sometimes, winning is a matter of choosing the correct game, but I'm not gonna fake sunshine and rainbows when there aren't any. Sometimes, you gotta make your own world. Dark gloomy clouds can come with silver linings, gentle rain, and a breeze just so... And if you know, you know. It would seem I am still here. I think for the time being, I will stick to this blog and mostly stay clear of social media. Really, such things are not the best for mental health, mine or anybody's, really. And, roughly a month before a big election here in these United States, is as a fine time as any for a Face-cation. Isn't anybody else as sick of the political ugliness as I am? I hate to break this to them. Actually, I love to break this to them, just to say, "Hey, your candidate does not love you." Now, maybe if you were a nice rich donor, they might love you a little bit. No matter who wins next month, most of us are going to lose. And to quote Forest, that's all I got to say about that. I really do feel sometimes that I am in some sort of purgatory, some sort of limbo where I am just plain ineligible for most of the games of life, save for working, eating, and sleeping... A fish out of water, a creature out of time... It does get lonely sometimes when I can't distract myself with things around the house, or with my ancient computer realm where people understand less and less as the years go by and the more disconnected and medieval I, Merlin of Cyberland seems. A fish out of water, indeed, or stuck in a goldfish bowl completely separate from the rest of the world.. That's me, irrelevant, and out of time. Damn that sounds depressing as hell when I say it like that. Maybe there's a better spin I could put on this. If empty headed politicians can do this, then why can't I? I guess if I am truly beyond hope, then I am beyond so many other things as well. Maybe what really matters is that I still draw breath, and I have my one little corner of this planet to call home, a place I have pretty much been around for all my life. I guess so long as I am not over here going without food and shelter and yadda yadda Yoda, then I should be fine. I guess I do get lonely a bit too often for my liking, that my distractions are not quite enough to chase that loneliness away. I often wish I had a special friend who would need me as I would need them, as in we would be each other's answer. If only this world were so grandly designed. But it's not. I am just a product of chaotic random chance, as is everything and everyone around me. Ah, my love, for want of a proton, for the orbit of an electron, go we. The only reason some claim order in this chaos is that the only way to observe it is to have been created by it in the first place. And what a universe this is, with so much beyond the cosmic horizon, an infinity from our understanding. I guess I know what I know, and hopefully, I learn a bit more, here and there, now and then. But I can never really know everything. I'm just along for this crazy ride, wondering just how much of this ticket I have left. We're never as subtle as we think we are about certain things. And even if my demeanor and mannerisms are saying one thing, fitting the role, and towing the party line, I can also be figuratively and quite contradictory shouting out loud. I guess I both care and am not worried, all at the same time. I'm just over here being me, all the same, but new and improved.. No, not the New Coke, but the same old classic. Just for the hell of it, Diet Coke. You know? There are so many things about religion that does not compute with me. One of the biggest is how some call the Middle East the supposed 'Holy Land'. Really, there are so many places on Earth that are far closer to paradise. Tahiti, in the time of Captain Bligh, that beautiful island with the beautiful culture and those beautiful women, so much so to cause the mutiny on the HMS Bounty. Yes, tropical islands with crystal aquamarine waters... If I were a god, then that would be the Holy Land, far better than that war torn strip of land where every group of people try to out do each other in the art of cruelty and evil. Of course, the British Navy came along later to punish both mutineer and loyalist alike.. Unlike in religious doctrine, I guess paradise here on earth does not last forever. You guys can have your holy land. Just give me my island. I would gladly learn the language and meld into the culture. I guess maybe my concept of paradise just doesn't jive well with the so-called normal. Give me a simple existence with a few special friends. That's all I really want. Give me bright, beautiful days and long, luscious nights. That is all the heaven I will ever need. Well, for some reason or other, I am feeling better. I guess you never know what antics this body of mine might be up to. It is one definite funhouse ride to be sure. It is probably far easier to predict the weather than how I will feel on any given day. Some days, I feel awesome and full of energy. Then you had this morning when I was a walking zombie. Neither of those physical / mental states come often paired with a logical reason why. Okay, friends, speaking if feeling ways about things, I have been doing a lot of soul searching and heavy thinking of late. I do believe the time has come to return to the path that brought meaning to my life and happiness to my heart. Really, it saved me before, and it's about to rescue me again. Here, she comes in her armor and determination to be. And we shall ride gloriously into the sunset, my hero... Besides, I do believe I never fit this bullshit role in the first place. It's odd how the world and the wheels have turned. There are things I would have once accepted that I would dismiss in a heartbeat. There are things I would have once rejected out of hand that I would consider today. It seems the older I get, the more of that new creature I have become. And now, I stand at a very similar crossroads to where I stood before. What deal should I make this time? If I knew the future of what might fall into my hands, I would also know the deal. What will it be? Should I be what and who I tried so hard to be for someone else, or should I be who I always knew I was? Come on, universe, what should it be? The actor or the role? After a bit of consideration, I have now decided. Friends, Romans, Robots, and Strangers, I am back. And, as for me, I mean I am bringing back the true, real, certified, and certifiable self that I have always been, but haven't always shown. Yes, Universe, Hello, it's me, AEB forever and ever amen. It's not like I could truly get away from this anyhow. Besides, I kinda missed me. After all, this is what got me through some of the darkest parts of my life. Sometimes, you really have to be your own light. See, there was a while. I really threw myself into the role, the character... I had my reasons (well, reason), just like the horse chasing that unreachable carrot on a stick has its reasons. And now, also for reasons, some of which I will allude to here, I am going to be myself, not the role. The actor instead of the character, and for the following reasons. Firstly, the closer to my true heart and soul I can be, the happier I am. I know what I am, and lying about it is rather painful. Secondly, my whole reason for trying that course of reversion was based upon an illusion, a beautiful one nonetheless, but the realness, so needed, was never there. I found myself more and more depressed not only because certain things were never going to happen, but also by this stranger to myself I was trying to be, and by seeing less and less of my true self in the mirror because of it. And all for what? In the end, nothing worthwhile, nothing worthy of these sacrifices I have been making. Then there were the negative effects, those demons I was all too happy to exorcise before, and I am all too glad to utterly destroy this time. I am a non-believer, but there are still relevant bible verses I could quote here, something about if your eye offends, then it is better to pluck it out, than to allow it to keep you out of heaven. In my case, it is my true and pure potential from which such an offense would bar me. I never liked those demons, and I have no problem sending them back to figurative hell where they indeed belong. All they do is steal my time, my energy, and finally, my integrity. Plus, they're not so good for my mental health. Die, demons, die. And stay gone this time. All in all, it seemed only the negativity returned, none of the positivity, and none of the wishful circumstance. Friends, if I am to chase an impossible dream, it might as be my own and as a being true to my own heart, mind, and soul, to mold the body and not in the reverse. Like I said before, my very core has never been in doubt. It has never been a question of how to feel or how to be, merely how much to present. I now look forward day by day to my full return. Like I said, I have really missed me. It will be so very good to be back, having traded insanity for stability (Some won't see it that way), heartache for delightful pain, plainness for realness, dullness for a bit of sparkle. Hello, it's me. Don't like? Don't look. The Great Oz has chosen, and I'm going to grant that wish. And there is no man behind the curtain. Hello, there! Hello, it's me. How do you do? Did ya miss me? It really makes me question the whole idea of free will when I realize just how we can be totally ruled by certain chemicals in our brains. It can also make one question their own sanity. I'm not even talking about being on drugs, or at least any drug that the body does not produce itself. All I know is that my mind has not been this clear in a very long time. Yes, yes, my thoughts have always been my own, but they have been heavily influenced all the same. It's like the veil has finally been lifted from my eyes, and I can actually see clearly again. It is a not so subtle reminder that you can lose yourself without even knowing it. Some demons, it would seem, take a good while to destroy. Some little monsters really do have staying power. However, I was freed before, and I will be free again. My hero is on her way, and I know she has the power to defeat them. This decision had to be made. See, I was trying to return beyond that point of no return, and I have not been very happy in having put myself back into harm's way. I was so much happier when discarding the role and breaking the mold. The time has come. It is time. The hour is chiming and is late indeed. It's not too late for me. It is too late for them. In this case, I am the one who says so. You had your chance at me, and that chance is gone. See, if there were no other takers, no other challengers, then it is quite up to me to save myself. You could've had me, but now, I have myself. And my adventure is just beginning. God save The King and Long Live The Queen. Oh, and Hail Emperor Todd The Destroyer. My name is Zorg, and I'm going on patrol in the North region. I have a rogue planet to destroy. It was a feeling of freedom I had not known since my childhood. And I want it back. You know? I actually had that freedom for a little while, too, but then I had to go and catch feelings for someone and think I needed to go back into that particular lion's den. And that freaking lion seems a great deal more ferocious since the last time I put him to sleep. Yet here I am again.... Armor with an E. That's the E in AEB and today's letter on Sesame Street alongside W, T, and F. What do I mean? I mean that if I can't figure this insanity out for myself, none of you, my dear friends, Romans, robots, and strangers have a chance in Hades. Sorry.. I am sure this is a close equivalent to watching Pink Floyd The Wall on acid and without any happy pills. Kind of a bad trip until I get the demons back to hell where they belong. This is all symbolic, by the way. Sometimes, I really can get lost in metaphor... but that's just how I roll.... Cosmic Wie, always wanting to go to another planet, always falling back to Earth. Still, that figurative fog is starting to clear. Good. These past seven days have been a rough road. This time, I will give my true self the solemn promise that I'm never going back. It is so much more than a matter of identity but of dignity and of the desire of never finding myself in such dire circumstances again. It is amazing how much control certain aspects can have over one's mind, seen with such clarity once those aspects fade. I have returned. Freedom is good, my friends. So, what can I really say? I know I'm winging it and flying blind, but I love the way it makes me feel. It has been the only source of instant joy I have ever known. I remember when I first experienced this. The heaviness and the delightful pain, that reassuring softness that would dry my tears on those bleak mornings when I really felt I had nothing else to live for. What can I say? Have I gone mad? Probably. Still, it has given me and still gives me something to strive for, to look forward to. I can accept living in madness if that's what will make me happy. I only get one existence, so why should I be miserable for the sake of other people? So, yeah. It has always been with me, between the lines, so to speak, always there even before I knew what exactly it was. Though, in hindsight, it explains quite a bit. Is it any wonder that this role I am expected to play has been the toughest role ever? I can see certain events of my past going much more smoothly under 'the other' set of expectations. Still, we can't really change the hand we were dealt, can we? Nope. I can only do the best I can with what I have. Would people really think I either chose this or am making it up? Believe me that conformity and normality would be a much easier path if only I were built that way. But it is so alien to me, so foreign to my inner soul. So what am I to do? Fake it? Believe me, I have tried. At the same time, I can't exactly go totally wild in the other direction, either. It is a bit of balance in this limbo in between where I must live. It is all a battle between the idea of not rocking the boat and full speed ahead on the AEB of the deep blue sea. Think Love Boat times a thousand. But I guess also at this point, I'm not always sure of exactly what I want, even if I am beyond all certainty on who I am. Complicated circumstances. In an ideal world, it would be so easy. But it's not that way at all. I am a human being, this living creature, and I just feel certain ways and think heavy thoughts. I can't limit myself to this or that. All I can really say that makes any level of sense is that I am myself. Who else could I really be? In short summary, these ramblings can and will vary. I am a living creature who has spent decades trying to figure myself out, not to mention the world around me. And neither are exactly in a static state. Just like Ozzy sang, I'm going through changes. Sometimes, I truly wonder if solid ground is a true place to stand or just another illusion. They do say that matter on an atomic level is mostly empty space, and I believe them. I would hope that minds have a bit more substance. But who really knows? They can choose to believe this or that, but in the end, can we truly know anything? And that my friends is the perennial conundrum.