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.
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