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.