The Marvelous Wie At Your Service.

"Clouded, Your Future is" -- Yoda, Grandmaster Of The Jedi Order.  

"It's all fun and games until you fall head over heels for the fortune teller." ---Cosmic Wie 2025 A.D.

Tell me, tell me, what am I to do, now? Just how can I rise above it all and find my way again? Sometimes, it is just not so easy. How does it feel to let go of what was never real at all? To bid farewell to confusion, to say goodbye to an illusion. I miss the you who was never you at all. And that is where I went wrong though I knew it all along. It is amazing the mirage one can see so in need of cooling water, to see what you want to see, to be what you hoped to be, to see, to see what was never meant to be at all. Is it such as human nature to dream so deeply, to feel so strongly, to need so badly, to see so vividly that you can not see the truth before your own eyes? To hide, to hide behind your own lies? Because there are things you no longer wish to feel? We must dream to live, but we must wake up to survive. But, have you ever wished to dream just a little longer? My friend, my dear special friend. What am I to do? How I wish you loved me as I love you. But it is what is and what shall never have been, right? Indeed. Reality is no fun, but hey, that's where I've gotta live.... Here I will tell all. I need no copy pasty bullshit in my life. If I wish to raise awareness about depression and anxiety, why would I not write about my own experiences? Why does it seem that the damn cat's got everybody's tongue? Instead of copy pasty, speak up, shout it out loud! Besides, after all these years of dealing with it directly, I think I might know a bit more than any copy pasted drivel could describe. Got a question about it? I bet I've got an answer. Oh well. I just prefer people expressing things in their own damn words, but what do I know? Clean cup already? Move down already? I think the most practical fable we were told as kids is "The Fox And The Grapes". They were most definitely preparing us for real life, I think. And as Mr Spock once said, you may find that having is not as fulfilling as wanting. It's illogical, but it's often true. I think that maybe I am sometimes guilty of projecting beauty and wonder on something or someone simply because they're out of my reach. It's not all that. They're not all that. I'm not all that. And the surest way to disappoint yourself is to chase an illusion. Take it from someone who knows. Ah, birds, bugs, bats, and airplanes, proof that all with wings are not angels. In fact, if my understanding of the lore is correct, if you picked the most beautiful angel in all the realm, you would be betting on a fallen star. Ah, yes, beautiful, smart, and having great charisma, the most beautiful of all social butterflies. Though, I bet you couldn't guess his name. Ah, but pleased to meet you, all the same. When I say the illusion isn't real, I do not mean insult to the wonderful, beautiful, real life person that I have these feelings for and base the illusion on. It's more of admonishment of myself for placing unrealistic expectations on an ordinary human being. It's no more fair to them than it is to me. High pedestals are a scary place to be. Also (This is related if you knew the missing context) I don't understand people who believe in psychics or soothsayers. What the hell do they know? I don't believe in any spirit, in any supernatural being that did not originate in this flesh. There is just no other way to get rid of foolishness and gain wisdom. A long time ago, I was born to my dear mother. (A wonderful woman with a beautiful soul) But my spiritual being has taken the better part of this past century to have been born. The person I was before? They're dead and deservedly so, never to rise again, not to be mourned, not to be missed. It took a lot of stupid mistakes to have created the person I am today. It takes a lifetime to truly be born. But if you want a psychic, my love, you know there is nothing I wouldn't get for you. So... I found one and here he is, straight from the Emerald City. Just walk into that tent and he'll greet you presently: By the power of the golden skull I hold in my hand, let it be done! It is I, Professor Marvelous Wie! And now it is time for me to tell you about the future and present unknown, oooooooh! Use my knowledge, I beg of you. Know the power of the psychic side and you will be able to save your [possible future] husband from certain singledom. Just let me put on my magic turban with the flashing emerald, and gaze into my crystal ball.... Hmmmmmm. Let's see... I see a man, someone you know, oh. He's a little older than you, but by less than a decade, with a heart of gold.... Oh, and he loves you. Otherwise burned out on relationships, you are the only person he would ever consider marrying.... I see him spoiling you, babying you, loving you... Basically treating you like a queen.... I see him treating you so much better than that asshole you're with. So basically, here is the message I am picking up from the spirits of old, ooooooooh! Ditch that ungrateful loser you're with and choose me--- Oops I meant that guy who loves you that I was just talking about. (might be me but hey) I'll introduce you either way. He's a heluva guy and he freaking loves you, damn it! Love... Madly in love. Love is madness. Madness On The High Seas, taking The Elevator Down. Either way, we're sinking, going down, down, down. Burn out? Fade away? Do we ever get a choice? Oh, well. I guess that ship sailed a long time ago. Avast there, me hearties! I be Long John Cosmic Wie Beard! And after a few years of being in port or hiding in the lagoon, I have hoisted me flag and have set sail for adventure. Yarrr, Arg, and all that jazz. Actually, it's all a distraction to keep the depression at bay. Ah, the SS Depression Bay. That dastardly ghost ship in my way today, tryin to take me loot and me fun away. It's like the royal navy. Those scallywags just won't leave me alone! Ah, but here I be on the seven seas, tryin to give it another go. Maybe there's still treasure to be found. Otherwise, I be killin' time on the way to Davie Jones' locker. You have sank my battleship, you bastards! Okay... Seriously though, no matter how much we've lost, it seems there's always more to lose. So, I guess the object of this messed-up game show is to hold onto what we can for as long as we can. There's always more that can be taken away. Hold on, hold on. Sometimes, the only thing we lose is an illusion. There have been times in my life when I thought I had something meaningful, only to be nothing at all in the end. We all really need to be careful how we Jedi mind trick ourselves. Maybe those actually were the droids I was looking for. And definitely not the girl I was looking for. (Help me, Obiwan Kenobi, You're my only hope.) Never go grocery shopping when you're hungry. Never make a permanent decision from a temporary feeling. Never think that being alone is the worst thing in the world. Take it from someone who knows: There are far lower levels that can make purgatory seem like heaven. There will come a day when you will know what is valuable and real. But these things take time. Gods, angels, devils, and demons, Reigning, Risen, fallen, blessed, or damned, none of them want to make me a deal. And I think I just might be open to a deal, just so long as I fare better than Tom Walker. Hell of a thing, you know? Oh well, at least I'm faring better than Kool-Aid. Oh no! Kool-aid is not happy. Kool-aid fought the wall, and the wall won. Kool-aid must be in need of some hard liquor. Spiked Kool-aid. Oh yeah? Why is the world all spinny and stuff? Just don't be drinkin' and driving. Crashing through walls only works in TV commercials. Hey, Kool-aid! Oh shit! And you already fought the wall, and the wall won. At least I know now, despite having my own mental problems worthy of a head doctor of the highest price and degree, that I'm still not quite the least mentally stable person in this place. Thank you for making me look saner than I'd appear otherwise. That's not saying much, mind you. Some folks could make Nutso The Clown look like Ward Cleaver. Now, I guess I will spend a bit of time writing about my own damn problems. Clean cup? Move down? Over the ocean, so far to the west that you find yourself east, live some of the most achingly beautiful women in the world. This is not to say there is not beauty in ever corner of this earth (I happen to have feelings for someone much closer to home) but there is something special about the east and I can't exactly say what it is. Ever hear of a walking, talking, living, breathing, thinking work of art? Ever see beauty so intense that it makes you want to cry? And why? Because it is beyond my reach and will always be. I'm not just separated by a continent and an ocean. I am separated by an ocean of impossibility. Hell, I can't even make any headway closer to home with somebody I actually love, Someone I would prefer over any image of physical perfection, someone who will always be beautiful to me, inside and out, beyond words. Though she's no plain Jane, this one. It's just so much more than looks alone that makes me wish to risk opening myself up for a relationship with her and nobody else, no matter how beautiful. See, I don't have to be with a supermodel or a gravure idol, though that would certainly be nice. Just know that while pretty faces are everywhere, a beautiful soul is so much harder to find. And I have found gold. But it's like those song lyrics, I'd give her my whole world if I could. The only thing stopping me is that she just won't take it. I'm like that shiny penny on the ground that could be easily picked up, easily claimed, by exactly one person. But, they have to actually want to pick me up. Please? Why am I so unworthy of love? I am neither super pretty nor am I hideous, either. I'm a decent accessory for any arm. I understand, I'm not super young anymore. When I was actually young, I apparently chose wrongly because I found myself alone with three kids to raise. Well, I got them raised, stuck by them as a parent should, and now that they're grown, I find myself alone. How is this my fault besides choosing to trust my life and my heart to the wrong person? Am I really unworthy? I have a lot of love in my heart. It just has nowhere to go. Is it really all my fault? I don't think I'm a bad person. An imperfect mess of a human being, no doubt, but certainly not evil, certainly not unworthy. Still, it's a hard old world. And I'm alone. It's one damn bitter pill. I just want to feel loved for a change. Am I really unworthy? What must I do? I'm neither Einstein nor Gump. I'm neither Brad Pitt nor am I the freaking hunchback of Notre Dame. I'm not exactly young anymore, but I'm not quite Mr. Burns from The Simpsons. I'm a mess, but I'm a classic mess. I'm neither famous nor rich, but I'd still bet a cool million you're never gonna find another me. Not in a million years. Neither will I ever find another her. Thus is the chaos and entropy of random chance, if not the deliberate actions of a sadistic deity. But maybe I should avoid such speculation. It just leads me in a circle, going up in a tornado, or going round round round and down the toilet bowl. It's still no doubt a spiral, downward or otherwise. Spin the freaking wheel, round and down, down, down. Journey with me to the center of the earth, down in darkness, down where the only light is liquid rock. Though I'd rather be on the surface, sleeping by the shore. Why must we die just to rest in peace? Why can't we rest so peacefully and still be alive? Besides, I'm a bit too claustrophobic for the underground. I need fresh air and sun, maybe a few flowers and trees.... And maybe the ocean. Yes, definitely the ocean, an endless horizon of possibilities.... And angels, beautiful angels of the east, just over the water and beyond the farthest patch of blue... Out there.... Somewhere.... Far away, too far. Even dreams seem closer. And how I have wasted hour by hour looking beyond my reach. I may not have a lot going for me in the analog world, but the digital world is my oyster. Unlike in the real world, I can have whatever I want. Music, movies, games, software, there is practically nothing beyond my reach. But didn't they say Alexander the Great wept because he had no more worlds to conquer? I think I understand how he felt. Is that me now? With music, if I like it, I have it. If I don't have it, it's probably because I don't want it. Over the decades, I have conquered the known world. My favorite movies are mostly from the last century, and once again, I already have the ones I like. With a few notable exceptions, most of my favorite games are also old. And I have them all. I did discover visual novels and other anime style games about a decade ago, a very few with compelling stories that I love to this day. Though sadly, most of them seem to be more about removing the clothes from the cute anime girls. And really, while I will confess to there being a bit of appeal in that [Hangs head in shame] it does get old after a while. Many cute anime girls look the same. There are only so many hairstyles and colors, as bright and vibrant they may be. There are only so many body types. There are only the usual variety of Dere personality archetypes. Though I guess I do like the ones with the messed up personalities, the head cases, the ones who are not what they seem. You know, the ones who suddenly crawl out of computer screens to attack and imprison the player. (Thinking of you, Oh Great Mita) Indeed, a dark story behind the brightest world is a contrast I kinda like. Though what it says about me, I can't say. Still, it's not long before one reaches the end of possibilities, especially with the well traveled tropes. Chances are, most have been done before. So, I have mostly fallen out of love with the genre, aside from some favorite oldies but goodies.... Oh, and one new game. When a crazy girl crawls out of the computer screen, now that's interesting. There is always software and books, too, but I mostly like the oldies and I have all the oldies. I really do feel I have no more worlds to conquer. I guess the time may be close at hand when I must expand my empire beyond the digital world. As in come up with a new hobby (or revive an old one). This is not to say I will completely abandon my old ways, but it is getting to the point where it can't be my whole life. I should try gardening again, but the deer, those goddamn dear ruined my last attempt at gardening. Shame really. Everything was so pretty, peas, beans, more in pretty little rows... And then gone. Damn deer. I hate those fuckers. I'm not a hunter, but I certainly welcome the hunters. Blast away. Keep those ruinous bastards out of my garden! I could try getting back on the radio, using my license that has been gathering dust over the decades. My father's radios are where they've always been... Ah but that involves talking to people.... And I am far better at writing than I ever was at talking. I could place my focus on maintaining my parent's house... Well, mine now.... That would certainly take up a lot of time. I could meet someone... Well I already have... And since I really only want that one person, it kinda rules out meeting anyone else. I'm funny that way. I only open up to certain people. I only trust certain people. I can not risk it with anyone else. Besides, strangers on the internet aren't my cup O tea... No offense meant, strangers. Lets just say my past makes me cautious. And maybe I'm a bit picky. So much so that there is only one, interested or not, possible or not, she's pretty much it. It's basically her or nobody at all. And so... I guess nobody wins. Bummer, dude. And thus my circular pattern comes back to the beginning. A complete circuit. Zap zap zap. How about I set out again? There is little refuge or distraction in the digital world. There is little in my hobbies. I suppose there is some in my work when I have enough to do. There are my writings and my words but you can see where they take me, here, here, and here again. Though this is also where I get a lot of this stuff out of my head. So, there. It does have a purpose. Zap, Zap, Zap.

Wie, Why Why

Hellloooooo, Universe!
 

I can be silly. I can be serious. I can be light and laughing. I can be dark and heavy. I can be humorous. I can be philosophical. And like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get. Ah, but you won't get bored, no, no, no. I'm kinda like Hawkeye from MASH in that regard. BTW. That was one of my mother's favorite TV shows, but not exactly mine. BTW again. The opposite was true about Hogan's Heroes. Something about my uncles changing the channel when she wanted to watch a different show as a kid. Ah, but hello there! GENERAL KENOBI!! The ride begins now. Buckle your seat belts, and duck tape yourself to the passenger seat. Here we go. Warp 9, engage! Live from the Wie, it's Saturday Night! Hell no. I only wish it were Saturday night. And I would hopefully be at my computer at home. It's only Thursday, man! Can you believe it? This week has already been two and a half months long. Oh and the day has been two or three days at least. Time flies when you're having fun. Ah but it creeps and it stalks when life is at its suckiest. It's Michael Myres time again, moving slow yet impossibly immortal. You just can't kill it. Nothing this evil ever dies. It's slow and relentless like Michael, but it also likes to troll me like Freddy Kruger. [Manic laughter] "It's only 3:00, bitch!" Damn it, Scotty, beam me home! Let me guess: You cannaduit, can you? I knew it! Some good you are. "Sorry, kid, but I don't believe in fairy-tales!" Shut up, Freddy! And so, I'm stuck here. What can I think about to pass the time? Hmmmm. Got it! Cool computer stuff! Well, I just so happened upon a new computer game. It features a crazy anime girl of that archetype that starts with the letter Y, breaking the fourth wall and being overly obsessed with the player. Ah, just my type. Both the game and the girl. Which might explain a few of my bad choices with relationships... Ah, but never mind... I've been stepping into that world just a little bit. Does it say something about my reality that I would rather be trapped in a game world with a sanity challenged anime girl with sinister intentions? Yeah. It's true. Why should my dreams be any healthier than my real life? In fact, if you're going to live dangerously, might as well do so in your dreams. Right? Right. Riiiiight. It is an immersive story and one feels bad for most of the other characters. Though the main one wants to trap me in a game cartridge or eliminate me altogether. She's a lovable lunatic, don't you think? Ah, but she's never before encountered the great Cosmic Wie, has she? "She put me on a cartridge, so I saved her to a 1000 year M-Disk." Yes, I've been catching up on my gaming, movies, and show watching. I just won't say how. I was a few years behind for multiple reasons, but now I'm back in a big way. For that certain game where the main character abducts you (as the player) into the game, I do believe I have figured out how to actually win the game. You could say I found a real-life solution to an in-game problem. If you wish to save all the anime girls in that game, just put them on a read-only 1000-year storage medium. Now, they can't be harmed, and if you keep all of your save data, neither can you (as a player). As a real-life human being, yeah, you're still screwed, though. Remind your caretakers and descendants where your save files are. But, yeah, you're still screwed. It's probably better to just surrender and agree to stay with the girl. It looks like a cute enough house, even when made from ones and zeros. Besides, you'll never be lonely again, and that's one hell of a big plus. Now, if she's open to learning some 90s FPS games to play coop with me, then I'd be in heaven for sure. I'm sure she'd enjoy destroying pixilated monsters and aliens just as much as I do, almost as much as she enjoys the destruction she was secretly doing to alternate versions of herself between versions of her own game, higher resolutions though they may be. Anyway, enough about that. I got every version of that particular game that I could find and I'll be looking out for any new versions and hopefully additions that make it actually possible to save some of the characters from their not so rosy fates in the current game. Though they're not real, just a bit of graphics, voice acting, and code, it still makes me feel bad when I can't help them. Though, that may be the most realistic thing about that game. I'm certainly familiar with not having been able to save real people in this real life. Yep... If I were truly abducted in the game, I would choose to stay. I would try to forget the real world and just be happy. Too bad we only get pulled into a game in a figurative sense, as in binge playing. Okay... Now, that's truly enough. Back to the real world I go. I guess it was the invention of the computer and the internet that has done more to help me escape reality than anything else. The closest runner-up is maybe my books, followed closely by music. Definitely not booze so much. I have found in my middle aged wisdom that it's really no good at all. Friends, we drink to forget only to dwell instead. Then there's hangovers. And just like Hank Jr. sang, they hurt more as you get older. So, drinky drinky is a rare thing for me these days. I just have very little desire for it anymore. So there is my computer, and there is the internet. At this point in human history, connectivity is no problem at all (for computers). I am sure during my random browsing of the net today, my computer has reached out to many other computers probably all over the world. For human beings (especially the one typing this), not so much. These days, a genuine human connection is not so easy to find. Fortunately or unfortunately, we humans kinda need those sort of connections. Or at least I do. And the internet (especially social media) really is no solution. Maybe it once was. Seems I do remember making a few friends. But these days, there's just too many bots, too many scams, and too many things (and people) that are not what they appear to be. There also seems to be a lot more disconnect, so many ways to feel invisible. Not cool, man, not cool at all, far more bogus than bodacious. Now, I can't say whether it is a matter of self-worth, esteem, or whatever. But I can say with certainty that loneliness just sucks. That is as clear as I can state it. It can be so hard to explain these feelings beyond that. I am not even sure if a screen full of text or a disembodied voice could ever be enough to satisfy this hunger for true human companionship. Such is my need and such is my heart, that a bit of genuine love would be all one would need to win me over. When I say that nothing else matters, I truly mean it. And in more ways than many would realize. We are spiritual beings, yes, so much more than the living creatures that we are, yet we are still physical beings in a physical world. Still, real intimacy and true closeness aren't always about (as Beavis And Butthead so eloquently put it) 'scoring'. It is mostly about feeling validated, safe, secure, and most importantly, loved. Whatever check boxes you happen to find yourself in, this is a freaking need. There are a lot of people who will claim to be rough and tough and that they never need anybody. I used to be one of those people until I got tired of being so strong.... Oh, and of lying through my teeth. As I said, loneliness sucks. I have always had this need, even if I often feel it is hopeless to fulfill. I'd keep the deception going, but I did say that this is the place where I tell many of my secrets. You, my friends, Romans, robots, and strangers are the rare beings in the know. Oh, just don't tell anyone, okay? 😉. I'm counting on all my legions not to breathe a word of this. Consider it a final duty to the Empire. All glory to Rome. Keep up the good work, and I shall name you Consul (whenever that office is revived). Trust that Imperial Ruler Cosmicicus Wiesis means what they say, and you will go far, my friend. May we all seek. May we all find. For there is always that which we need to live. I can't tell you it's there, but I will tell you to never give up the search. One can not lose what one has never found. Loving arms are the only salvation. To be held is the only meaning. To be loved is the only purpose. There is no peace but in that embrace. Woe to the heart that can never find love. Woe to the soul that can never find peace. Woe to the wanderers of a desolate land, and woe to a world locked in destiny. What does it mean to be second best to heaven? Beyond love, there is only emptiness, a wasteland, no quarter given, no mercy at the door, no refuge by the gate. No rest for any soul trapped in the body. No solace for any being out of form. The days have come among us and such days have no end. There is no escape but in the comfort of love. No matter what they say, this is what real salvation is. No ghost god, no god of ghosts has ever held me in the comfort of love or filled the void with the warmth of belonging. It takes a human being for that sort of thing. It takes a human being for it to mean anything at all. Otherwise, what is this? What am I? I have to live in this world and I have to live in now. I have seen some wonderful souls in my time who could speak volumes to me without ever saying a word. The language of eyes is at a higher resolution on a higher plane. I have also seen people who talk and talk, yet never say a damn thing. Words without meaning are just noise to me. I have never seen anything so loud be so empty at the same time. That is the difference that substance makes. Or the lack thereof. Then there are the many times I have so much I want to say, but it seems words will never do. I'm done with the jibba. I'm done with the jabba, and I'm all out of Kool-aid. Most of all, I am done with this world, or at least the aspects that no longer interest me. I am in no need of a sermon from anybody who has something to hide. From now on, I will leave the nonsense to those who believe they have time for it. I do not. Time gets shorter every day. I have lots to do even without end. I have lots of love, even with none to send. I have no more time to waste on what others deem important. Importance is a point of view. I might as well go with mine. I have no time. As it is, I see way more grains of sand at the bottom of this hourglass than I see above, waiting to fall. I think about that very last grain now and then, waiting, waiting, waiting to fall. I think back on my youth how I never understood those old people in the church, singing so happily about waiting to die, waiting to die. Ah but now, I think I in part, do. Except, it's not the river jordan or glory, or Christ coming down from the mountaintop. It's of beautiful Oblivia, her loving arms outstretched, waiting for me, waiting for me, waiting to heal me of the pain of memory. Forgive me if this seems as dark as the abyss, but these are my honest feelings. Would you rather I lie? Not everyone can handle the truth. There are some parts of that truth that I can't handle either, there nonetheless, just like the universe, there whether or not I choose to see. There to my dismay. It can not be changed. There is no escape but illusion, that wonderland of peace, where I can sit before my cup and be myself for just a little longer. There is no escape but dreams, but fantasy, one intense Jedi mind trick that I want to be fooled by. When facing up changes nothing than why face up? Maybe I do not wish to hurt. Maybe I think there has been enough of that for a millennium or two. Do I want to be a crying realist, or would I rather be a happy fool? Clean cup? Move down? My watch might be two days slow, but my time is still running out, those gears ticking down. Letting go of anger is far easier than holding back love. Anger like all fires generally dies down if left alone long enough. Or at least in my case. But, love? Love never dies. Love can be so beautiful when we are able to give it. But when we hold it back it cuts deeply. Anger may burn, but love cuts from within when you can't let it out. I am not just talking about unrequited love as the poets of old wrote about, though I know well the feeling they spoke of. I also speak of love with nowhere to go. Loved ones do not live forever. The love for them, mine for sure, does. Or at least as long as I will. Forever enough. Today, the 20th from my perspective, would have been my mother's birthday. She drove me crazy and I know I drove her crazy. No doubt I was the cause of many of her worries. Typical dynamic for mother and child. But that's how I knew she cared. She used to ring my phone like crazy. Now it just sits there in silence. If you're lucky enough to still have your mom and she's driving you Nutso The Clown, lemme tell ya. You're going to miss it someday. The mother and child reunion is only one of a million mishaps away. Though I'll do what I can to put it off for another day. I guess that's life, live, live, and live, until you can no more. While I have been hovering over the point for a long time now, I still can't exactly tell where it is. I guess we'll find it together. Or apart, because I can't exactly say for certain on that either. Though I would like very much that I did not have to face it alone. In numbers, there was and will always be strength. I guess having the wrong expectations for any given situation is an equation that will equal disappointment every time. If you go to moon for a breath of fresh air. If you go to the Sahara for a drink of water, or to Hell for an ice cream sundae and some AC. Still, shouldn't there be (in keeping with the theme) a minimum devil's due? I suppose the he would say, "Nope! Hell, ain't it?" Oh well, coffee breaks's over. Back on our heads we go. When we want to see something badly enough, we can even delude ourselves into seeing it. Jewel was right. A starving heart can hallucinate so easily. It is the nature of the heart of humanity. And human nature can be one hell of a drug. Why (in the hell) is it that when there's so much room for such nonsense and pure bullshit out there in the world and online, can't there be just a bit of what matters to me? Damn it. I wish we were not so defined by so many things before anyone gets a good look at our hearts and souls. One glance and you're judged already. One look and you're expected to behave in some one dimensional way. One judgment and your either loved, hated, trusted, or feared, and they don't know a damn thing about you. What is a heart? What is a spirit? What is a soul? It would seem to my best guess we're all randomly put in boxes by some drunk guy at a factory, processed at the funny farm, and just scattered to the universe. We're like books with the wrong covers. You go to read Armhold Musclehugga's new book, Govenator II and you get Danielle Steele instead. If that makes me bad, then there is no need to send me to the place I already am. I am already here. And I am just so tired of going against the pull of this vortex, even if it's taking me somewhere I do not wish to be. Sorry about my scattered thoughts. I have a lot on my mind. A certain social media site thinks my mother's still alive and is trying to remind me that it is her birthday. But what kind of a terrible child would I be to forget today (February 20th) is my mother's birthday? Let me answer that. One lousy child that I would be totally ashamed of being, if I could not or would not acknowledge this wonderful woman who is my very reason for being. Over the years that followed my debut, No doubt she had more than a few worries, a string of sleepless nights here and there, a significant portion of them due to this particular kid (me). I must admit to there being times when I was one total pain in the butt, and worse: insufficiently grateful for all she's done for me. But those days of my being that brat are long gone. I wish I could go back to those times and do better by her. I will also say now and forever that nobody - absolutely nobody could have asked for a better mother. Maybe it took my ex to show me quite clearly by example what a bad mother truly was like, for me to realize and appreciate the mother who never abandoned me, despite what a pain I could be. If I could only go back. Damn it, too many people are missing, gone forever. I am two of five, yet one of two that remain. The 2020s have not been very kind to my family. What if and what might have been only have power in alternate realities. Here, it shall be or shall never have been. There is no escaping dimensional boundaries, no way of seeing across that great divide. And so we never know, we never know. Sometimes the randomness of chance is too much. The toss of a coin, want of a nail. Are we pieces on a chessboard? Are we that race car, that puppy dog, that thimble on some Great Cosmic Monopoly board? Are we that fading crew on the ship? Remember me, remember me, One destined to be the last guard on watch? The other to be the last to lead the way? Do you ever wonder just what kind of game this is? A damn cruel game. It gives us the power of action, when we are stupid and naive. It takes that power away upon that first lesson after knowing absolutely everything there ever was to know. It left me with not exactly the best opinion of myself. Maybe, just maybe I really do deserve this. Though I thought the purpose of punishment was to eventually stand corrected and redeemed, not to just suffer with no chance of ever changing a goddamn thing. Ah, but is that just me? Maybe it is just me. I, as Socrates, don't know a damn flipping thing. Absolutely jack shit. And ignorance is far from bliss. A void in the heart, a hole in my soul. I don't know a goddamn thing. I know nothing and I never knew anything. The main thing I know now that wish I knew then is that I never knew anything at all. Knowledge of ignorance is as important as it is ironic. It may be a weird twist on the words of Socrates.... But that was in Greek anyway. And since beyond the pantheon and the cities, I don't speak it, I might as well give it my own flavor. Everybody needs somebody. Everybody needs something. You might think I could be a bit more specific on who and what, but in reality it's an exact science I have no knowledge of. As for what, I could throw out words such as love, passion, purpose, meaning, belonging, or compassion. As for who, I could name a name, though maybe it's more of a very intense want for their love and affection. And as the stones sang, you can't always get what you want. How about what I need, then? There are days when I feel okay and others when I'm falling apart. I just want to feel loved, safe, and secure, within a set of arms that I feel I belong. Not too much to ask, huh. It's not just a matter of loneliness. I can't exactly afford a mind doctor on what I make. Besides I don't really need one. It does not take a PHD for the kind of therapy. Hold me, just hold me, then I can heal myself. Love me, just love me, then I might have a reason and the strength to try. This is what I need. I am well fed, but I'm starving. I have a nice house, but I am homeless. For what? For love. I need to feel as if I matter to someone. Not for the fact I can earn a few dollars by the drudgery of days. Not for what I do. But for who I am. Love me, just love me. This is what I need. Still, I try to let this emptiness make me like all the empty heads and shallow hearts of this seemingly plastic world. While nobody has the market cornered on tragedy, while most of us have definitely been through some heavy shit, I will say this. Having gone through hell myself is no license for a lack of empathy. If anything it should be a reminder that life is hard for most everybody out there, and that a bit of kindness and an attempt at understanding could make all the difference in the life of someone suffering alone. It's not that we absolutely have to understand, only that we try. It doesn't cost a dime to have a heart. It's just so tough when said heart will not leave my sleeve. They say to develop a thicker skin, but to what end? To become an automaton? I guess I have wished many times I were this cold robotic being... But that just wouldn't be me. Looks like I'm stuck here.

Within The Universe Without My Universe

My Dearest Universe,

If these words can pass through the great dimensional divide, I hope they find you, and that they find you well, happy, and with everything you ever dared dream, fulfilled, true, wonderful, and right before those new eyes from which you can now see. And if you can still see me, just know that I'm okay. It has been a long time, and time has not been so easy. There has been a lot of regret, a lot of wishing I had been just a bit more, a lot of pretending, smiling through the pain. Still, I am alright. The cruelest aspect of time is its direction. Still, what is time beyond the clock, beyond the hands, the pendulum, and the gears? What is it beyond the fading shadow on a sundial, beyond that last grain of sand that happened to fall? What is time when there are places in the universe where it will never exist again. Time shall someday bring a day when it will have power over us no more, the very day we meet again. Time is a hell of a thing. To me, the present day is not the present day at all. I often feel that this is the future, that I'm trapped here, and I need to get back to 1985 with all my knowledge and wisdom, and without the burden of what might have been. That was actually a nice year if I remember right, yet I can hardly believe it was four decades ago. I was young then. It may be hard to believe, but there once was a time when I was young and still had my biggest decisions all ahead of me, when I still had a chance. But I was ignorant. I knew everything but didn't know jack shit. It's no good to hate my past self for not knowing, but still, I cringe. I am so very embarrassed of how I could so blatantly 'know' yet not know a damn thing. Yet, now that I have learned, now that I clearly know what I should have done and should not have done, I really feel I've gone far enough in this practice run. I'm ready for the real deal now. What do you mean this was the real deal? Surely you don't take a messed up human soul like mine and not give them a practice life first! Oh, I see. Well, your system sucks! What is the point of learning when you never get a second chance? This better not be a simulation, or I'm finding a way out of this computer, and you're gonna see one nerd lay the smackdown on another nerd. It's gonna be high school all over again, and I'll be like that dumb jock with the letterman jacket, all the luck, and the whole faculty behind them. That's right, programmer, I'm gonna take you to school. Whether I am blood, flesh, and bone, or a million lines of code, I'm somebody you don't want to mess with. Okay... I need to talk about something a bit lighter now. Hobbies again? Why the hell not? I like computer games, mainly old ones, but a few new ones too. My main thing about games is this. The only time when the internet should be involved is when I get the game in the first place. No phoning home. No having to connect at all. See, I am old enough to have bought my first games on CD. I am the same way about other things, too. I stream absolutely nothing. None of this always online BS either. I will never buy anything on Steam. See, I am also old enough to remember how we once connected to the internet to check email, browse, yadda Yoda, then disconnect, and still use the computer. I will not be required to have to prove what is mine. And when it's mine, it is on my own disks, not sitting on some remote server where they can take it away. Besides, the bandwidth is not all that great where I live. I save everything, heck even web pages that I like. Some have since disappeared without a trace, not to be seen even on the internet archive. The internet has always been about here today and gone tomorrow. If I like something, I save it. There is none of this leaving it to float around online to either survive or not. I am a digital pack rat, and I am not ashamed to admit it. There are several hard drives and hundreds of M-Disks to prove it. I am willing to buy stuff so long as it becomes my stuff. Otherwise, no deal. That goes for games or any other media. They can stream THIS. They can Steam THIS. I purchase. I do not rent. No DRM allowed. That is the only way I fork over the cashola. Otherwise, I'll see ya around the cape, me hearties. Okay, my sense of humor is on a wavelength that most people don't pick up on. Yes, my wavelength is just out of band for most peoples tuners. Well, at least it's on a less crowded frequency, and I have never been much for crowds. I guess it makes me a bit unique, and I like being different anyway. So, if this makes you laugh, welcome brother or sister. Let's take over the world! Okay here goes: Just as I would pay William Shatner to do a spoken word version of "Come Sail Away" and Grand Funk Railroad's "Closer To Home", so would I pay Patrick Stewart to say, "I am Locutus Of Borg." Then turn to the camera, saying with a wink, "And, ladies, I am also Le Cutest Of Borg, so subspace me maybe?" Yes? No? Clean cup? Move down? Access granted. I have to admit to being a bit weirded out by my own words sometimes when I read back over them. But, isn't that the point of this? That's the purpose of these sessions. It is getting all these emotional extremities out in these words here, so I don't go crazy elsewhere, right? Even if I sound like a drama queen sometimes. Well, this isn't exactly acting. It's venting. Acting is what I must do in the real world, so I don't sound so dramatic.... Or queenly. There is no acting here in Blog-ieo Land. You're getting the real deal. Though I must admit there's a bit of a magnifying effect with what leaves my brain (not to mention my heart) and enters these pages. When it seems bad, it is, but not that bad. I am stable, even if my words can sound a bit unhinged. I'm fine, totally fine. Do you hear me, nice young men with their clean white coats and the good drugs? There's no need to cart me off to the funny farm, not just yet anyway. Although a full day of arts and crafts, three square meals, fellow patients to befriend, and some enhancements to calm these nerves kinda sounds appealing right now. Too bad I've got responsibilities, huh? I've got things to do and a whole world to keep from falling apart, so Wonderland will just have to wait. Bummer, dude. I wish I could live happily in madness. I would fit in among the Mad Hatter and the March Hare far better than I will ever fit in with this bunch around me now. This place is most certainly not home. Am I really such a drama queen? Nobody seems to be bowing. The one deck of cards I have is not the best royal guards money can buy. But, it does seem that when I write about feelings here (that I suppress elsewhere), they do come out in an extremely intense way. Can you tell? You can see it in my frustrations with things, situations, and people. And in my apparently deep feelings of affection for a certain individual. I probably sound as despondent as Romeo when he thought Juliet was dead rather than just sleeping. (Those two needed better communication!) I won't say any of these aren't my true feelings because there's more truth written here than I have ever expressed anywhere else, but this magnifying effect... Goodness. It sure makes me seem a bit crazy. Not that I deny this, either. It's just that (in the real world) I know how to fake sanity quite well. This is just where I channel my full range of emotions, yadda yadda Yoda. Hmmmmm! A poor Jedi, I would make! That is why I am known in some circles as Darth Wieis The Wise. And if you wish to know the tragedy of Darth Wieis The Wise, ladies and gentlemen, you have come to the right blog. Welcome. Buckle your seat belts, space cadets! This ain't the Enterprise, but we're boldly going crazy. This is where we shunt the excess antimatter from the warp core to keep the old gal from exploding, and I'm giving it all she's got, Captain! (ship shaking and sparks flying) I'll try to hold her together as long as I can, but I think ya be pushing the engines a bit too hard. Some might wonder why I would choose to put this online for the whole world to see. Well, what would be the point if I didn't, It would be meaningless without a tiny chance someone may actually find these words. Besides, and believe it or not, this is the 'edited for television' version. For those who really want truths that I can't share elsewhere, they'd have to find my backups or my latest M-Disk. Yes, there is even more to the great Cosmic Wie than I share even here. That's saying something. Even so, there are times when I feel I'm expressing a bit too much. But, I figured what the hell. I have long ago concluded that I am done pretending to be someone I'm not, and that somewhere I need to be myself, the good, the bad, and the fugly, (figuratively speaking) warts and all, ribbit ribbit! I may sound a little crazy, but I have never dealt in falsehoods here. I write a lot. That's how I deal. I have never written anything I didn't believe to be true. Granted, different lenses, different perspectives, high tide, low tide, different emotions can cast the objective in many shades of subjectivity. As I say now and again, the glass is half empty, half full, or shattered on the kitchen floor. It is the same damn glass. Different shades show it differently, that's all. It's not just what we see, but how we see it. Despite how illogical they may be, feelings are never wrong, even when they are. They just speak a different truth. That's why they can be so hard to resolve. From my sincere love for a special friend, to my frustration and even anger at situations I find myself powerless to change and even certain people who I feel powerless to even explain myself to, those better than thou power trippers who are 'always right' and 'never wrong'. Oh, and so full of themselves. There is just no reasoning with closed mindedness. Frustration and anger are hard enough, but there is something burning me so much worse from the inside out. This love, this beautiful yet so painful feeling. Love is the most difficult emotion of all. It's a powerful river, and I'm supposed to be a damn dam. From experience, I can tell you that it is a thousand times harder to hold back genuine love. It cuts deeper than any anger ever has. And I know anger quite well. There are some alive today mainly because one couldn't raise three children to adulthood from the penitentiary or the grave. Granted I am beyond and totally over such thoughts today, mainly because I have let go of such anger a long time ago and karma continues to act on my behalf and on behalf of the once vulnerable others that certain horrible people dared to hurt or dared to allow it to happen. But, yes, I've let go of my anger. It can be done. But love (except in that previous case) is so much harder to dismiss. For the record, Karma makes for a far better mafia contract dude. It beats being a cell mate's special friend for the rest of my life. Not to priss and prance here, but I'm way too pretty for the bighouse. I'd be too popular. Anyway, this was just to make a point that I have found letting go of anger to be far easier than suppressing genuine love. It hurts so much more to hold unexpressed love inside. Rage like all fires eventually quits burning after enough time. Love only seems to burn hotter and brighter with time. As for my past, I want to put it behind me. I don't even want to talk about it anymore. There is no love lost there, but neither is there any hatred. I just want to forget as much as possible. This other, this love I speak of for this dear special friend is not of the past, but very much of the present. I do my best to hide my feelings, but people tell me I am so damn easy to read. I might as well have a big screen teleprompter strapped to my back, flashing my emotions in big bold letters. With the very notable exception that I'll never be over Marsha, Mom, or Dad, It is far easier to put other aspects of the past behind me. My failed marriage is one of them. I have aged far better than my ex, and physically, I got the best years anyway. Now the whole psychopathic, sociopathic part and all the mental and emotional abuse, I could have well done without. I am far better off financially than the ex, due to their poor timing on when to leave. There would be a lot more at stake if we were still together a few years later. I won't say I dodged a bullet because I got hurt really bad, but it didn't kill me and I am beyond it now, even if certain wounds and certain scars remain. Besides, there's someone else with a healing presence who I'd rather give my all to, everything that I have, and all that I am. They just won't take it. Maybe it is for the best. This old heart too often thinks it can just kick my brain out of the drivers seat, and take me on this crazy ride. It seems not to remember how things went the last time I fell in love. Okay, space cadets, something just happened and I'm having a moment here. Without going into details, it's just people being unnecessarily mean again. And you know me. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I don't choose to. It's just how I am. It kinda sucks, you know. Sometimes, I wish I were tough in this way, maybe like the way my other sister is. Aside from that one person so frequently I refer to, I really don't have any friends at all. Not anymore. I have none, save for one, and I guess it's not helping that I wish that we were so much more than friends. Yet I do not want to lose the only friend that I have. I know I must sound pathetic right now, and maybe I am. I just feel like crying, but right now I am not exactly in the best location for that. Damn, I am just so lonely. I just wish I could feel something even remotely like actually being loved. It's not being alone that makes me lonely. It's being around so many disingenuous people who just don't give a damn, yet pretending they do. I just want to feel loved. Is that so wrong? I make no claim that I'm perfect, or the greatest person on earth. But is it so bad that it's to the point that I am unlovable? With love behind me, I could fight a thousand demons. I could brave the void. I could power through despite a thousand injuries, If only I were loved. Not by some invisible god, but by another flesh and blood human being. I am so tired of this pain, Sis. I just want to go home. It is a refuge where I could at least cry this all out and maybe feel better. Does anybody really think I'm proud of this? I wish everyone except genuine souls would just leave me alone. If you're going to be fake, if you're going to be an ass, just leave me alone. Go away. I am so tired of people pretending to be my friends. Nothing is real, not anymore. Look at me quietly melting down, falling apart where nobody can or will see. Can a heart be so starved for love and affection that it so desperately reaches out to the one example of genuine kindness in my life? It takes a real soul to know a real soul. And I have never encountered one so beautiful, inside and out. Do I feel this way because I love her, or do I love her because I feel this way? It's an important question. If it's someone I truly love, then I wouldn't want them carrying my baggage or my burdens for me. It wouldn't be fair to them. I would want to give them as much of myself, even more. I would want to be their shelter, not just the other way around. Although the peace that would come from being held, especially in their arms, is something I would give absolutely everything to have. And if this is just some projection of my own loneliness, I still wouldn't wish to burden her. Why? (And here is some circular reasoning for you) Because I love her. I mean, can I feel a certain way for way more than a year and it still just be infatuation? Look, it's not that I am under any illusion or delusion of being able to win that wonderful heart. I am still working on accepting reality, yet knowing that I at least need a friend. Specifically, this one. At the same time, I can't go on denying to myself, my feelings. As Forest Gump once said, "I'm not a smart man, but I know what love is." Why the hell can't I resolve to be logical like Mr. Spock? The only way I'm remotely behaving like Spock is if he's high on spores again. Like I have said before, she could ask me for the moon and I'd be trying to figure out how t steal the damn thing from the sky. Grand Theft Moon. M-O-O-N, that spells moon. I hear myself saying things like this and I think, "Once a fool, forever a fool." But, I can't help it. I can't suppress this nature to love. I've gotta breathe, gotta eat, gotta sleep, and I've gotta love. I just hope a bit of this wisdom has sway with me. Love is a hell of a thing. I'm not even sure even soap opera amnesia could make me forget. I have my memories intact, but I seem to be a slow learner. Clean cup? Move down? Why, it's my unbirthday too! When I'm home on my old computer, the internet offers a lot more choices. I can find more Doom levels, I can browse fanfiction, and I can see what I can find in the wayback machine, and there are many other places I can go. Away and on this damn phone, I am stuck with just a choice between news and social media. Neither are good for my mood. The news is never just news. It's most always propaganda for one side or the other. It's all designed to make you feel this way or that.... Influence, manipulation. And I refuse to be a puppet for either side. My stance on different issues are so scattered across the spectrum that there's something in all of them to piss at least somebody off. Politics is what happens when people use their brains for hat racks and their mouths for what they should be using their butts for instead. I hate it no matter the flavor. It all smells like shit to me. Social media, too, is full of propaganda. There, it is even worse, just a cacophony of noise and nobody listening. I'm not saying I deserve it any more or less than the next soul, but I would like to feel seen, heard, and maybe even understood just a little bit, not drowned out by the noise. Fat chance there, my friend. The propaganda of the social realm is not merely from governments or "news" organizations, but corporations and even individual people. Everybody's talking and nobody's listening. It seems we don't have genuine conversations anymore, oh and especially about the president of these United States. Depending on the narrative, this guy is either the second coming of Jesus Christ or of the devil himself. But, it's just a man, what folks from my neck of the woods back in the day would have called a 'Loudmouth Yankee." That does not make him a bad man, just a man with one big mouth and absolutely no filter. Good? Bad? We'll see how I'm doing in a year. There are things I agree with him on and others that I don't. There is a lot of exaggeration out there in both positive and negative lights. They either downplay the good and enhance the bad or vice-versa. That, my friends is manipulation rather than information, propaganda, rather than news. There seems to be no unbiased truth, just enough spin to make one dizzy duck ready to upchuck. One has to take it all with a grain of salt the size of Mars, and I won't believe a damn word of it (donkey or elephant speak) one way or the other until I see results. And man, am I burned out!! Really, I burned out during the last election cycle. Yet the mouths still run, and the tongues still wag, talking points here and talking points there. Doesn't anybody ever think for themselves anymore? Blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, Yoda. Hmmmm! Sick of this political bullshit, I am! Hot air everywhere to turn the turbines and power ten thousand New York Cities. There ya go. Green energy, boogers included. It's time for a headache pill and another clean cup move down. Help me Universe Kenobi. You're my only hope. I am tired, Universe, and I am so beyond what others may or may not think. Do you know the feeling at the end of a long time, that only sleep matters and the world can just fade away? Yeah, it's like that, oh but now on the scale of a lifetime rather than a single day. I think I may have figured out my curse. I am a human being that doesn't like being around other human beings. Then I get lonely. Go figure go fish. Now there are certain people out there that I like, love, trust, or all of the above, and a few not here anymore that I wish were here because damn it I miss them so much. But, yeah, it's an exclusive few that loved me, cared for me, came around because they wanted to, the ones I would have to stop myself from begging not to leave. And it's not that I have a problem with total strangers. If I don't know ya, you're probably alright. It's those that fall between the extremes, those who only think they know me, but don't really. It's the ones that cone around because they want something from me, ie money, work, or my remaining sanity. Or just to mess with me. They're the ones that can go away. The only strangers who bother me are the advertising types, the preaching types, and the propagandists. The ones selling shit. I know it's just the way the system works, but it can sure be a cacophony of noise sometimes. It seems there are a lot of attempts at selling going on. Sometimes it's a product. Sometimes it's a belief, political or otherwise. Now, I am not inclined to buy anything I don't otherwise want or need, nor am I inclined to believe in anything I don't otherwise believe already. Yes, I do have an open mind, but I am also the one who decides for myself, just what (and who) I allow to live there. And for any and all of the above, it is I who will seek council and not the other way around. I may not be the ruler of the world, but you can bet I am the ruler of my own mind, lest a few intrusive thoughts. Wie The Lionhearted, the ruler of infinite space, were it not that I had bad dreams. Hey, Shakespeare wrote heavier stuff than I. That said, are we ready, space cadets? How about another ride on the rocketsled roller-coaster, fellow adventurers, where I crash and burn, but rise from the dead? Does it sound like fun? No? Ah, but it's reality, and it's me, at least of late. Wile E  Coyote, super genius. Or at least somebody with similar luck. It is the very war between my two halves, of the many reasons one way or the other, to be or not to be. Here I go. I may mot be as eloquent as the prince of Denmark, but I think I can be concise enough. They say belief or the lack thereof is a choice, but is it really? There are many times I wish I could believe in Heaven and a merciful Almighty God, to believe in a future of kicking back on a cloud with my parents and my baby sister, and with the kind people I once knew in life. It is a beautiful picture, isn't it? Who wouldn't want to believe in it? Sadly, I can't. It is not for a lack of wishing I could. I want to believe that religion is more than just the Santa Claus story for adults. Though frankly, if the only reason for being a good person is for reward or to avoid punishment, than that's not exactly being good, is it? The reason to be good to others is because it is the right way to be, and that (when you have a heart) your own conscience will punish you if you are less than good. It will burn away at your soul every single day. Truely evil people it seems can get away with that which is morally wrong yet not illegal, and never be burdened with guilt. That's why this world sucks. I really wish there were a next world where justice and peace reign supreme, where a benevolent God with the biggest heart makes right out of what's wrong. I wish, I wish. But I just can't believe. The best I can hope for is believing that souls live on and this universe is big enough for the possibility. Or, failing that, in oblivion, and my anthropomorphication of it as the beautiful goddess, Oblivia with her open and healing arms, that wonderful spell to help me forget ever having existed. That's it. I can't look at this hell scape of a world, then up to the heavens and entertain even the slightest belief in a god watching over this mess. Sorry. I wish I could. I guess if I am wrong and this condemns me to hell, it would be a most befitting end to a tragic existence. It's not a choice. I just can't. Momma used to always say can't never could. But honestly, I do not see how I can. If there is light to see, then please show it to me. Right now, I just can't see. Damn, I am just so over this world. If I didn't have so much responsibility, so many miles to go, I think I'd just call it quits. It's the survival of the biggest assholes rather than of the fittest. And if being an anal retentive jerkwad is this world's idea of fitfulness, then this world is simply not worthy of me, you see? Unfortunately, I still have work to do before I tell this whole kit and kaboodle, "Go fuck yourself, I'm outta here!" Too bad that I can't. The thought has crossed my mind many times. Those men in the white coats would come running if they knew how many times. At least there are three people that I love that it could no longer hurt, but then there are others it would hurt still, and the last thing I would ever want to do is break any hearts who dared to love me. The problem is that it would bring pain to those who clearly don't deserve it, while not even batting an eye for the ones who absolutely do. This is why I am still here, rather than for any ghost of hope. When hope dies, it leaves no ghost behind. When hope dies, it is dead forever. So what do I do now? Most of the time rather than screaming into the void, I write strongly worded letters to the void instead. There's less chance of being overheard, though after all this time I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Tell me, people, is it possible to be surrounded by people, yet be more alone than when you're actually alone? It's far better to be alone by yourself, than to be alone surrounded by people an infinity away. Solitude is healthy. Suffocation is not. That is today's wisdom. In today's world, we need all the wisdom we can get. I am here because two wonderful people wanted me to be here. No, they can no longer be hurt by my not wishing to be, but even their memory deserves respect. It is the very least I can do. These days, it's probably the most I can do as well. This is not the present day. It is a future beyond all purpose and meaning. It is a future where it seems to be a crime to even show a a shadow of love, the ghist of caring to someone like me. Tell me, oh do tell me, what did she ever do to bring such a grudge from you? What did she ever do but be my friend? How was being the only mercy left to me by this universe such an offense to you? Moreover, how is any of this your business? I don't get it. Maybe it's just the job of demons like yourself to remind me that I'm in hell. There are those with greater sins catching less hell, but I never accused life for being fair in the first place. And no doubt, there are things for which I deserve punishment. I should know, for I've been kicking my own ass for a long time for many of them. I don't claim to be some innocent angel. I'm just a mess of a human soul, flawed and fallible... But with some good qualities too, I hope. Surly there is a significant part of myself well worth redemption, right? Do I really deserve this? Am I truly beyond having just this one saving grace, this one token of mercy, this one beautiful friend? How can the peace and comfort this friendship brings to my heart be any kind of affront to you? There is really only one logical answer. You want me to suffer. You know? It would be actually refreshing if you'd drop the bullshit and just admit that's what you want from me. I guess I just need to lower my expectations for most people. Not everybody is my friend. Not even close. But even among the nameless crowd, I can spot a heart of gold, now and then. It is important to remember that they are the ones who deserve compassion and understanding, that if I ever notice them in need of help, that I should be among the first to offer it. I can't rely on this shitty world to remember their kindness and to show them the same. I have to do this. This world sucks, but maybe there are ways I can make it suck less, if only for those who I really feel deserve a bit more kindness than the world is giving. Hearts of gold are the really treasure. Friends who care are greater still.

Lord Darth Tin Man Of The Mirror Universe

Hello, Universe. 

It's me again. Hello, it's me. The day is ready for me, but am I ready for the day? I'll get back to you when I am awake enough to answer that question. It's another day. Round and round the same old wheel, same old grind, yadda yadda Yoda poor head exploda. Same, same, same, despite the truth in how they say that you don't know what tomorrow will bring. Still, it means that I'm doing okay. See, while on one hand, it seems that each day is just a carbon copy of the last, just the same old situation driving me Nutso The Clown, I guess it also means nothing bad has happened either, so there's that. There's nothing like a major tragedy to break up the monotony, so I guess I should be happy with the same old grind. The only tragedy in the monotony are the echos of the past, memories that will never go away. Other than that, I would much prefer this day to day ho humdrum to a thousand earth-shattering shocks that my heart just couldn't withstand. I have had enough loss for a lifetime already. I don't want to lose anymore, neither anything nor anyone else ever again. In fact.... I would like to win and to gain for a change. I am ready for something wonderful and new. There's even a corner of my mind where I almost know exactly what, and even who I would like to be there to witness, better yet, by my side and a part of my world. Yes, yes, silly, aren't I? These hopes, wishes, and dreams. Every once in a while I get a vision in my head, a beautiful dream, a fantasy of the most remote possibility of saying good morning and goodnight to someone besides myself, to fall asleep next to, and wake up beside, more than just my collection of way too many pillows. Ah, heartbeats and lullabies. I guess the grass is always greener on the other side, and it is so easy to idealize and romanticize. I try to be realistic, to know that nothing is perfect, that no person is either. Still, I'll bet it beats the heck out of being lonely. Still, I've got to get out of the habit of projecting a certain beautiful set of eyes, a certain lovely smile, and a certain beautiful soul onto my dreams of that sort. How in the hell I let my heart run away from me is beyond my understanding. There is no point denying how I feel, but there's also no point in having my head in the clouds or living in a dream world either. Now, if the feelings were mutual, I would be free to step lightly or even fly, but reality and stuff. Damn it. Reality. Which takes me back to this present moment of morning fog. I find myself in a bit of a haze, and the reason alludes me. It can't be for a lack of sleep. I hibernated like a bear deep in a dark cave on a cold winter's night. I should be well rested, but I'm not exactly feeling that way. In fact, I could literally sleep for days. The waking world isn't always all that inspiring. Though it does beat the nightmares. I'd rather dream of Freddy Kruger than of my ex, but that's another story. My mother's birthday is on the 20th. She would have been 76. It's not falling on President's Day as it sometimes does. Momma used to joke that they'd have parades for her every few birthdays. Of course, Valentines Day will happen, too. Are you wearing your Super Dupid Anti-Cupid armor, guaranteed to deflect slings, arrows, and troublesome cherubs? There have certainly been times I wished I had been wearing mine. Remember, ladies and gentlemen, safety first. I wish I could wear mine, but it's a bit too late for that. I've done fallen like Rome in 476. "Great, Scott, Marty, she blinded me with science!" Well, Doc, at least you might find your way out of this with logic and reason. Not so, if she blinded you with love, huh? Especially if you, in fact, have blinded yourself and blamed in on da gal, right? What in the name of Sir Issac H. Newton is going on here? Damn it. Let it go, heart. Let her go. My special friend, my dear one, my love, you wonder why I seem so down. Nothing much. It's only that I wish I were yours. I only wish that you would claim me. I know well that this is impossible, so I do not say, no matter how much I want to tell you. Misery may love company, but it is not my wish to drag you down here with me. Why? It's simple. I love you. And when you truly love someone, you want them to be happy and not come down with a case of these all too contagious blues. I think that I have already written a bit too extensively about that subject too. What else should I talk about? Surely, such a dashing daring space cadet such as I can think of something. Ground Control to Major Tom? It's not "Lost In Space", uh-uh, it's lost and spaced. Roger roger bo bodger. Man, what the hell happened to me? Extra spacey perception. Three lightyears from home and still boldly going forward. Extra spacey indeed. Sing with me, "In the year 2025, somehow Cosmic Wie is still alive, though how the hell I survived, I dunno oh oh...." That's a good question, Mr Zagar and Mr Evans, because I'm like quacked if I know either. Speaking of that song, 2525, so set 500 years in the future, will any memory remain of me? Will any memory remain of my loved ones? Maybe if M-Disks truly lasts a thousand years or if I ever get my hands on some 5D crystal glass. They say that stuff has the capacity to hold integrity for billions of years. Though Sol becoming a red giant and vaporizing the inner planets might ruin that. Not that long gone me would care by then. Still it's fun to imagine them being in someone's collection on some space station or planet around a far away star, where the mighty space people of the future try to puzzle out my ancient computer stuff. I suppose I've been collecting digital stuff for several decades now, from my first basic program, to my first writings, using a little program called Wordstar, to family photographs, home movies, recordings, to my vast collection of programs, operating systems, ASCII text and HTML, to my damn impressive collection of movies, music, and games. Most of this stuff is stored both optically and magnetically, and maybe someday on the universe withstanding crystal glass. Well, maybe it won't withstand our sun burning up earth, but I'll be long gone by then and probably will no longer care by then. Who knows, maybe it will remain in the hands of my descendants (genetic or spiritual) in orbit around Proxima Centauri or somewhere else in the galaxy, maybe even going intergalactic in some future I can't even imagine. Dear space people of the future, It is I, Cosmic Wie, your ambassador in time! Hello, there! Still, I'm thinking about slowing down a bit. One can't spend their whole life trapped in a screen. With phones, it's not a problem. I am only on mine when I'm away from home and bored out of my mind. With computers, on the other hand, the temptation to be the almighty cyber Merlin, god of the ones, ruler of the zeros (I HAVE THE POWER!) is hard to resist. It has always been my best escape from reality. I have lived a significant portion of my life there, which is why so much of my past is stored on disks. I want to spend a bit less time there for multiple reasons. First of all, it just isn't as immersive or appealing as it used to be. My old games, my favorite movies, even my favorite songs, always having a special place in my heart, are just not drawing me in anymore. It's isn't like I stopped loving them or have lost my special memories of being both somewhere and someone else, but I just can't seem to fade into those realms as easily as I once did. I look around me, and I know I need to change my focus for the sake of my own mental health. Still, they will be there, hopefully for a very long time to help someone else as they've helped me. I can't say it's for being bored or burned out or that maybe I have grown beyond certain things. All I know is that they don't make me feel like they used to. Some may say this is a sign of depression, but it was depression that drove me to desire escape in the first place, so I don't know. The closest thing I can articulate here is that I am changing. For the better? For the worse? Hell, I can't even begin to say. Of course, I will continue to write because I do so in moments I am unable to do anything else. My sessions with Doctor Blog-ieo may not be the most effective therapy, but they do help in organizing my thoughts. I must also admit to having trust issues with real head doctors. It may be irrational, but it is based on real experiences. Yesterday, as I was working in my yard, I kind of had a bit of a flashback. See, as a kid a long time ago, I used my artistic expression to draw a picture of when my father was working out in the front yard, doing basically the same thing. It was a burned out stump, and I drew it, and I thought I did an awesome job. However, the drawing and my passing statement about the tree being dead somehow caught the attention of an overly ambitious school psychologist. Now, I was 6 or 7, so I wouldn't know metaphor had it bitten me on the backside. I was being as literal as a kid would be. It was a Dad burned tree (get it?). However, now that I can speak in metaphor, I will say that despite everything that has happened, the tree is very much alive, and I very much intend to keep it that way. Also, most kids don't get into angsty poetry until their teens. (I should know) I never stopped even to this day. Only it goes here instead. I certainly have my reasons, loneliness, lost family, unrequited love, and on and on. I seem to have no shortage of inspiration. It also seems I understand the sheer intensity of these feelings far more than I ever have. My younger self really didn't have a clue, though I thought so at the time. Experience has a way of teaching the harshest lessons. When you know, you know. For many things, it is the only way. That is why I long for the bliss of ignorance. Ah, to be young and dumb. Time is relentless. It's without any mercy to stop. It destroys worlds. It destroys lives. It takes and it takes away. Time can make a fool of anyone, even the great Cosmic Wie. How about we change the subject, huh? Say it with me, clean cup move down! Mad watch, mad watch! Yep, two days slow. We simply must have another spot-o-tea. But don't trouble your pretty little head, dear. I'll get it. If this were still the 1990s, I could be an awesome web developer. I know just enough HTML to be dangerous. I have created my own offline home page with all my favorite bookmarks. I have created a page for my animated gifs collection. I've created a tribute page for my baby sister, pictures of her, snippets of conversations we've had, and some things I have written about her. I'm thinking about making a page for my parents too. My gif page starts with, "Welcome to the mind of Wie," with Bruce Campbell's Ash saying, "Buckle up, Bonehead, 'cause you're going for a ride!" Which would most certainly would be the case for anyone entering my mind. There are a megaton of references and more than a few hints as to my inner workings. All my web pages have the Hubble deep field with all those galaxies for a background. Maybe it is a subtle reference to my universe to those I love who are one with the universe, but not even I know for sure. All I know is that the Hubble deep field is one of the most beautiful pictures I have ever seen in my life. That much, I know. One with the universe, eternally beautiful. Sometimes, I can't wait to become one with the universe, too. Miles to go. Lightyears to go... The miles seem so long. Space just goes on and on, infinity, eternity. To look far enough in either space or time, I can see only darkness. Wow, man. Guess it is time for the Mad Hatter and the March Hare to intervene again. Clean cup move down! Wonderland's a much brighter place than that dark void such heavy thoughts lead me to. Really, I should do better to avoid them. It's yet another bit of advice I give to myself that I, too, often ignore, just like a certain character. Except, of course, I am very much real. Maybe a bit too real, as even as I may deny certain truths to the world, there are truths within my very soul that I can no longer ignore, whether or not the world would understand. The world doesn't live in my head, see through my eyes, or feel with my heart. I can't live without these few brilliant sparks of light that brighten an otherwise bleak life. Even false hope is sometimes better than no hope at all. Even an impossible dream is better than a nightmare reality. There has just got to be a better way. Friends, Romans, robots, and strangers, I'm tired. I really feel I have long ago done my time. Now, all I want is a bit of comfort, a little love, and a lot of peace. Surely all these years of struggle should mean something, should have gotten me somewhere, anywhere beyond.... this. I don't ask to be super filthy rich or to live like Hefner in the freaking Playboy mansion. I don't mind working the rest of my life.... I just would like to have someone to come home to at the end of the day, one of billions, even if I still wish it to be a certain one, as crazy as the thought may be. Oh well, there is really no use in going on about it. It's like how Brook Benton sang it. It's life, and you've got to play the game. Still, I would like to win once in a while. Also, myself surrounded by haze seems like an inadequate description of the nature of the universe. Shouldn't there be more there for me? Shouldn't infinity well be able to spare just one little corner for me? Infinity minus a bit of generosity would still be infinity, right? It is not my desire to take away from anything or anyone, just to have what I need in order to validate an existence that occurs whether or not I ever willed it. I'm here, and I want to make the best of it if I can. I am here because I was wanted. Long ago, two wonderful people willed me to exist, so here I am. Yep, still here. How much longer is anybody's guess. Here I am today, doing my best to chase these heavy thoughts away, doing my best to stay. Only to do the same tomorrow and the next day, until a certain day says to me no way. And how, why, or when I can't say. I am here now, and it is my will, even without reason or rhyme. I am here. Shouldn't this be enough? I don't think so. I need more, so much more. Believe it or not, out in the world, I try to be positive in what I say. I try not to talk so much about how down I can feel some days. Why? Because I just don't want to be a buzz kill. I don't want to bring others down. Misery may love company, but I want my friends, especially the ones that I love, to be happy. I want to be a positive influence, not a negative one. Smiles are contagious you know? Now I have a very few bright spots, a very few rays of light in my world that brighten and warm this old heart, keeping my world from being so damn bleak and so damn empty. Don't begrudge me this. It is a crucial lifeline, and I need it. I can't stress how crucial it is. You can take me to task and make me tow the line on a thousand other things, but on this, especially this, I need a bit of slack. I don't think I'm asking too much. In fact, I'm not asking, I'm telling ya. There are just some folks who need to straight up leave me the hell alone. If all you're going to give me is static, then fade the fuck away. Don't mess with me. Even if it is all I have, even if it's not so much, I will have this and I will fight tooth and nail for this. Logical or not, these are my thoughts. These are my feelings. There's no right or wrong in them. They're just there, they're just me. Right or wrong only depends on how we act on them. Truth and reality are more open to interpretation than most people think. When they say it's only in your mind, it might as well be everywhere in the universe. Just know that your truth is most likely not the only truth. No doubt through three years and two megabytes, one would find different truths, different views, and even contradictions here in my own words, in my own being, never static and always dynamic. You might say I evolve. Many things about us, many aspects of our present day being, even at our very core, were born long after the children we once were. Just as a laser burns knowledge into a blank CD, so does life experiences burn hard lessons into our souls. Are we live, or are we Memorex? I am still here, but I'm not the same. I just know that if I were a CD, I wish I had been pre-recorded with all the right tracks back at the factory. It might have saved me a lot of pain and a lot of regret. I would get to play my song for everyone I love and have lost. It would be something I would want them to hear. Here I am, but not the same, hopefully with some wisdom, hopefully the best version of myself so far. I can't change the past, and I can never really know about the future. It is only in the present, in the here and now that I have any sway or say... And even now, I can't say I have full control over everything that is happening, only myself and my reaction. And even then, I sometimes have but one option before me. It seems that I am not a god. There are some for which I would work every miracle, and there are others who'd better be damn glad I am not a god, for there would be some sure enough old testament style righting of wrongs. Behold Mofos, for The Wie hath returned among the people and unto this land and my justice shalt be done. By Grabthar's Hammer, you shall be avenged. Wait... That's Galaxy Quest. Ah, but I am just a mortal human being, and my mother used to tell me that two wrongs do not make right. I guess there is a reason I do not possess godlike powers because I would certainly use them. The temptation to return the kindness of others and to smite the hell out of those who badly deserve it would be much too great. So maybe the universe was wise to make me a mere mortal human being. Therefore I sayeth unto you, Clean cup, moveth down. There is something of a conflict or maybe a discrepancy within myself about certain states of the human condition that I am still trying to reconcile. Why is it that there are certain aspects of my inner being that seem not only reasonable, but necessary for my own sanity to at least display subtlety, that look totally freaking ridiculous when certain other people put on display? Maybe because their way is overblown, or maybe they're simply not being respectful to the premise. I guess so. Being loud and obnoxious does not make it real. Besides, this is not how I feel about absolutely everyone. There are a very few of wonderful elegance who seem to have been very much meant to be. Maybe it is more about how and why, and if there is true authenticity in what they're doing. I don't know. This world has too many clowns masquerading as something else. It makes them Ronald, not The Burger King, and certainly not Wendy. As Yoda said, do or do not. There is no try. Therefore, this is how I resolve it, at least for now. I embrace subtle nuances that only draw attention to those who might truly want to know. This is not a joke. And such things are not funny when they become you. Still, there is a fine tightrope line between being authentic and being ridiculous. Oh, and no net. So, this is a line I indeed walk very carefully. In this tough old world one does have to be careful. Things are just as not as simple as we wish them to be. When I cringe at some of these people, I ask myself if I am being hypocritical. I conclude that I am not, for I feel I'm taking myself far more seriously. Furthermore I feel they damage the more genuine among us, the ones who see this as a spiritual journey of discovery, of seeking truth and recognition fromn within, more than without. Because, in the end, it is what we believe in our own heart that really matters. Not some check-box. Not some propaganda clown show. To be, simply to be. Your not going to convince the whole world. When you become a clown, you'll be stuck in the circus forever. However, if you become yourself, there is hope for the ones who truly matter. As for the rest, take an example from Freddy Kruger when he said to Zsa Zsa Gabor, "Who gives a fuck what you think?!" Besides the five on his glove, Freddy has a point, don't you think? Okay... Moving right along, next subject? Some of these days are long indeed. I mean it's good to be getting overtime as it is helping me to dig myself out of a mountain of debt. But, man am I tired. Money, energy, and time are the true holy trinity. There is never really enough of any one of them. And it's always a battle royal between the three. Meanwhile, I keep getting older. I guess I am supposed to be the lucky one. I just don't feel so lucky. Getting old is just the side effect of living long enough. My parents were in their 70s, so I guess that counts. My baby sister was only 40, so for her, not so much. I'm still here, still aging, still missing them, still missing her. It's the same song and I know you have heard it many times, but it just won't end until I do. Meanwhile, the fast forward button is still pressed on my life and the years are flying by. It seems sometimes that I am the only one sitting still, even if I've been running myself crazy. Go figure, go fish. It might have been Einstein that discovered how time is different in fact, but in perception, it seems we've always known. Heaven flies by and hell stretches on and on. I am tired, Universe. I can't even have within this loneliness the peace of being left alone. There seems to be no escape. So long as I still breathe, looks like I'm stuck here. And if I'm going to be here for the duration, I am going to need something. I am going to need a bit of comfort, even if I have to Jedi mind trick myself into believing I have it. I don't expect them to have the empathy or the integrity to even try to understand, but they do need to just leave me in peace. Just go away, just go away. Leave me alone. Why must my bit of happiness be such a bother? What does it have to do with the likes of these people? More, why is it their business at all? I can expect and even understand the fact that not everybody cares. That's life and that's this world. But this goes so far beyond simply not caring. It is malicious and sadistic. This is activity pursuing harm. If they didn't care at all, then my little bit of happiness should not be a problem for them. I could live with that. This, on the other hand, is becoming a problem. So, what should I do? What should my goal be? More importantly, how? A direct confrontation is most definitely out. There is no point in arguing with someone who is "never wrong." You can't win and you'll never convince them, not with logic, not with reason, and certainly not with emotional appeal. In any scenario with someone like that, you can never win. They will always be right and you will always be wrong. And why should their opinion matter anyway? I certainly can't recall asking for it. Freddy to Zsa Zsa, remember? So. Nothing direct. How about avoidance? Not for their detriment or benefit, but for my own. And what would be my goal in this? Again, not to convince or change them because they would never listen, but for me. What would be my goal? What would I hope to gain? What problem would it solve? It has to be something within myself, it has to be my own peace of mind. The world won't change and neither will assholes. Being in the disadvantageous position I am, I can not hope to confront them directly. It really is a no win scenario. The only thing I can hope to do for now is to protect my own mental health, knowing the situation won't last forever. My time will come. I need only be patient and be ready for the day of peace I hope to find. It's a goddamn shame that after all I've seen, after all I've been though that I haven't found it yet. There seems to be neither reason nor rhyme, nor any poetry in this universe. Chaos and random chance aren't exactly the best at showing love, are they? Either this, or God is playing one heck of a game of pool. Rack em up! Asteroids crashing, stars exploding, planets flung out of their orbits to either freeze in the coldness of interstellar space, or to be baked in their own stars. Beep beep goes the satellite, beep beep goes the timer. Your planet Soufflé is done, beep beep! Hey, I wanted cheese on mine! What a mess. What a mess. And we've got to make the best of this mess. How? My dearest friends, Romans, robots, and strangers, go figure, go fish. After all my best efforts to make any sense of this, I've got nothing. Yes, Universe, I am tired of fighting this battle alone. There is something more that I need. It is what I get for being a human. If I were a robot, I wouldn't give a shit, would I? Oh, if I only didn't have a heart! Call me Tin Man In Reverse. If you can't mend it, Oz, then just get it out of my way. I am tired of it being broken. I am tired of my love not being able to find its way. I am tired of my beloved ones being taken away from me, either by circumstance, the cold hand of death, or asswipes begrudging me a simple conversation. Hearts don't do so well in this world. They get hurt, they get broken, they get mistreated, either by jerks or worse by fate. No, its the cynical malevolent cretins that do well. It's the manipulators and the liars. Sometimes I think we need not go to Hell to be punished. We are already here. And it seems that every time I reach for a glimmer of heaven, my hand gets slapped away. Yes, Universe I am tired, so damn tired. I need that bit of heaven. I can not go on living in hell without it. I am strong, but I'm not that strong. Everyone has that point of no return. I survive but I am tired of being tested. Enough. Easy, easy, be not afraid. It is one of the main purposes of my sessions here with the good Doctor Blog-ieo. Today I have been significantly upset. Okay I'm angry, freaking livid, totally pissed off. It has not been a very good day at all. Still, I've been calm, quiet, and professional, letting my frustration out by ranting here instead of going all Rocky and Rambo on a well deserving anal retentive bastard. Think of this like a ground fault circuit. Just as said circuit keeps people who live dangerously safe from electrocution, this keeps assholes who are living far more dangerously than they realize, from seeing my inner psycho coming out ready to play. It also keeps me from going to jail. Sooooo, it a win-win in my book. Orange just doesn't look good on me. I prefer blue or green. It highlights my eyes. Did I ever say I have green eyes? I do, but I digress. I will not claim Doctor Blog-ieo to be a superhero, just an old country doctor, So I won't say he's saved any lives other than maybe mine. But he's most definitely saved a few egos and maybe a few faces too. Some of them maybe today. I am not as soft and sweet as some people think I am. I am a nice person, yes. I have empathy, and I try to be kind. I have no malice, harbor no hatred, for anyone usually. Unless they earn it. See, I can only take so much until my evil twin will step up in my defense when given a reason to break out of character. I especially have news for anyone who has ever described me as 'quiet'. I'm not. If I am around people I like, I am just as talkative as anyone else. Oh, and when I love someone, I am a total chatterbox around them. But if I don't say very much, well.... How should I say this? Remember what the guy at the Star Wars bar said to Luke? Yeah, that. "And I don't like you, either!" Guess I'd better steer clear of any old Jedi masters. I prefer my arm to be attached to the rest of me. So, it is thanks to the good Doctor Blog-ieo, nobody in the real world got to see my bad side today. Well not bad, but ready to fight side, the too pissed off to care about consequences side. Bad enough, I guess. Bad enough for anyone who messes with me or the people that I love. I'm not talking about some monster or demon, it's just me, a part of me, like the rest of me, neither good nor bad, just a human being with heavy feelings. And we all have aspects of ourselves that we suppress and repress. Our shadow, as Jung describes it. No, not a monster, not some ugly troll under a bridge, yet still not as pretty or perfect as I wish I could be. It's like the messy room we close off when company comes calling. I don't want to be ugly. I don't want to scream. I don't want to shout. I most certainly don't want to cry. Or at least I don't want to be seen or heard when I absolutely have to. I may not like this unpleasant truth, but recognize you, I do, Dark Yoda. Ah, but control me, you do not. I guess what most keeps me holding on and holding back is the wisdom of my many years telling that no good will ever come from my letting loose my dogs of war, no matter how gravely disappointed I happen to be, and no matter how good it might feel in the moment to strike terror in the wasteland. I mean it didn't really end well for the Lord Humongous, either. So, I guess I will stay civilized for yet another day. They shouldn't push it, though. The Humongous will not be defied forever. Damn, this day seems like these words, still not over and going on and own. It seems I am once again dealing with Michael Myres Time, slow moving and apparently immortal. What else. Are there more clean cups to move down to? Maybe just one more. People who who make fun of Asian accents are a special kind. Number one, it means they know multiple languages and that's pretty darned awesome if you ask me. Also, I bet my attempts to speak their language would sound even weirder to them than they sound to us. So, the lady is beautiful and obviously smart, too. I hear English is a hard language to learn. I mean I don't know firsthand, but we have a few of those weird spellings (They called them snerk words when I was in elementary school) Ph can sound like F, C can sound like S. Then we have all those words that sound the same, but spelled different, and mean different things. So I would be most impressed with someone who can carry on a fluent conversation, even if they don't always form the words perfectly. Multilingual people fascinate me. Maybe because they're miles ahead of me. I know a few words here and there of a couple languages, but I'd be lost if I had to carry on a random conversation, so kudos to them. 

Also, you rack disaprin.