Radio Wie International (Cosmic Radiation)

Some days, I long for the companionship of my fellow human beings. Some days, I am ready to move to Mars... Because there's no humans there, and I need a break. It's just too peoply out there. My social battery is about minus 20. Really, these days I'm like Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon. I'm just too old for this shit. Running around and playing stupid games just doesn't interest me. And I'm just not for braving the internet for anything more than cool files or cool stuff. Meeting people has to be a real life sorta thing. And, today, the only place I feel like going after work is home. I don't mean to be so damned misanthropic these days. Like I said, I feel lonely too sometimes. But I just can't take the bullshit, the games, or the pain again. When one was once in hell but somehow escaped, they don't really want to go back again. Honestly, I know there are worse hells to be in than I am now. (This seems more like purgatory anyway) Hell is a bit more intense than this desert of loneliness. Being married to a demon really puts the hell in hellacious. I should know, for there was a time I was there. To be lonely because you are alone is not the loneliest place to be. I was once in a bad relationship with someone who mistreated me. Now, that was lonely. After living many years in a place falling apart around me, I now live in a nice house, though I am not exactly happy as to how I acquired it. (It once belonged to my parents) Same place I lived as a child, and I would give it up just to have them back. I have lived in worse hells, but the deepest level of hell is missing the people I love. But, otherwise I've got a decent job, a nice house and a good car. I seem to be perpetually single, but at least nobody's using me or mistreating me. All in all, I have it good. I'm just lonely and missing some of the rare people who truly loved me. Maybe everything I hope for and dream of is an illusion. Love is one example. When I think reasonably and realistically, my chances of winning the heart of someone I know in real life, am friends with, see most every day in passing, and even emotionally support now and then, I realize the chances are about the same as meeting the most beautiful gravure idol on Twitter. Which, of course, is close enough to zero to simply call it zero. Soooo. Real-life person I know and have genuine feelings for vs. Real-life person on the other side of Earth, way too young and with a language barrier. Still equally at zero. So, why not some computer generated non-human? That's zero, too, but with the added excuse that they're not real. Wouldn't that be better? An illusion of a chance vs. a complete illusion. The latter's downside is that they're not real, but the upside is we never risk a broken heart. It is a hard reality to face when you realize you're not the variety of human that others want to love. Sure, I'm stable with a home and a job, yadda yoda still a provider... But if that's the only thing that makes me lovable, then I'd rather be alone anyway. It really must be an illusion, the sour grapes for which the fox so wisely abandoned the chase. And this particular fox is getting too old for this insanity any. No more running. No more games. Sometimes, it is wise to just be done. Sadly, loneliness can be a crafty enemy, laying low just long enough for me to lower my guard, then attacking with gusto. Yes, you could say I'm not exactly normal. If you knew me completely, you'd know I'm weirder than Gonzo. Though I know when to hide it. The truth is that I have never met a normal person in my life. However, if there are actually normal people out there, I'm sure normal is easy and comes quite naturally to them. It's not so easy for those of us who have to fake normality. In fact, it's draining and totally exhausting. It takes a lot of energy to pretend. I have my highs and lows. Sometimes, I'm okay. Sometimes, I'm not. But normal? Never. Normal is the role and not the actor. I've learned to play the part almost flawlessly, but acting ain't easy. Plus, the only Oscar in this particular venue is the grouch. Well, at least I don't live in a garbage can. Clean Cup, move it on down for the poorest mofo on Sesame Street! "Bitch, I don't need yo tea!" Geesh, Oscar, you really are a grouch! If you lived these past 15 years as I have, you'd be a grouch, too. If you are, then let's start a grouchy guild. We could give out real Oscars to the grouchiest among us. A gathering of grouches. Instead of bring your own bottle, it can be bring your own trashcan. Look out Hollywood! Look out Sesame Street! We're taking over! Grouches of the world, unite! Why go green when you can go grouch? As for me, the only way I'd go green is as Captain Pike could have in the first pilot of Star Trek. Good thing it was Pike instead of Kirk. I'll bet Kirk would have gone green in a big way. Wasn't it nice of the Talosians to help Pike get his life back later on? Superior brains and superior hearts. Kudos to Talos IV. I wish that I too could accept such an offer. The older I get the less I mind illusions. Just let it be a happy illusion, peaceful, tranquil, warm with a feeling of love, belonging, and home. It's not captivity if it's exactly where I want to be. I'm off topic again, aren't I? What exactly was the topic? Ah, to hell with it. Clean cup, move down. You simply must have a spot of tea. But don't trouble your pretty little head my dear. I'll get it. That's what you get when Mrs. Kersh crashes the mad tea party. Hopefully nothing floats in Wonderland. By order of the queen, no evil clowns are allowed in Wonderland. Just mad hatters, march hares, and chesshire cats.... Oh and Alice too, if you please. I bet a game of solitaire would be most difficult in such a place.  Do you ever feel like an imposter in your own life? Do you ever feel like you say and do what you say and do, only because it is expected of you? And do you ask yourself, who am I really? Second guessing myself has been a constant for a very long time. If I am the main character in my own life, what kind of a story is this? What kind of character am I? Am I the hero, the villain, or neither one? How can I even know? Darth Vader believed he was doing the right thing. The Borg believed they were saving the beings of the universe from loneliness, lack of purpose, and bringing order to chaos. All believed they were doing good while actually doing wrong. So, one really has to step outside of themselves to really know. So, as soon as I was old enough to realize that maybe I didn't really know as much as I thought, I started asking whether or not I'm the asshole in certain situations. And while I have found that I have not been the perfect angel in every situation, that I have (In most cases) done what I believed to be right with the knowledge I had at the time. Since reaching adulthood, after much reflection, I really feel I have acted with the best of intentions. If good intentions really do pave my road to hell, I can assure you they'll only be the surface and not the foundation, for I do have the heavy weight of regret for many things upon my soul. As for these burdens, I can only say this. I am not my past, nor am I the person who once existed. Tempered with wisdom and regret, I have come out on the other side of decades as a better human being. And I will also say that anyone who believes they have nothing to learn, no need to improve, are living in a delusion of the worst and most dangerous kind. I am far from perfect, but I am better for a few hard lessons. There are things I wouldn't change, but there are also things this new creature that I am would never even consider repeating if given a chance to try again. With that said, clean cup, move down, move on, and do the best you can. I used to be into radios, antennas, and all sort of things like that. Ever have two stations far away competing for the same frequency? Yeah it's like that. Only it seems like these days, I am the radio, contradictory signals running through my brain. What will you hear, dear listeners? Why the signal in control at the moment. [The static gets louder and there is a sudden change] Welcome, welcome to the other side. Do you feel differently? Ah, but of course you do! What course? Why, this course, of course! Tell me, tell me, how do you feel? You always did wonder just what the falling horizon would feel like. Is that regret, I sense, maybe a little? Yes. There really is no turning back after all. It is hard to tell from all that exhilaration overpowering everything else into small shadows. [The static returns and things change back] Whoh! Hold up! Wait just a damn minute! Where was I? Who was I just now? Wavering in waves like a changing timeline? It seems I am back at least for the moment. Do we really have free will, or are we at the mercy of the chemical compounds in our brains? BRAINZ! Down, zombie! No! Bad Zombie! No bite! No bite! Seriously, though, are we being programmed by hormones and things like that? What happens to the brain when you're happy, sad, hungry, angry, or wanting to get all freaky deaky like a great jumpin' horney toad?! Is it all you in there? Is it all me in here? Or are we programmable flesh and bone robots at the mercy of God's (or Darwin's) remote control? Hell of a thought, huh? This is getting me nowhere, I say to myself. So why continue? Because this is who I am. Dismissing something as only in your mind is only effective for everybody except yourself. There are no such thing as only here in my mind. If it's here, then it spans the universe, cosmic horizon to cosmic horizon. If it's in my mind, it is everywhere from where I stand. I am who I am. I am what I am. I am that I am. No dismissals from the outside can ever change that. Nothing short of the final dissolution of my soul. Ah, which could happen because I am not all powerful. If I were, there is this awesome anime style trope I'd like to do. My chances of doing that super 360 all frequency light bright maneuver would be over 9000! Ah, but before I stray too far from reality, it's back to earth for me. Wile E Coyote Super Genius. Sadly, there will be no all-powerful displays. Bummer, dude. As Cronkite used to say, "......And, that's the way it is." Well, when was the last time the news actually made you happy? I guess that depends on your political persuasion. Since I am scattered across the spectrum depending on the issue, I am a mix of happy, elated, saddened, and troubled. That's what happens when you fit neither donkey nor elephant shaped molds. I fit no mold at all, actually. That has been my gift. That has been my curse. You can't put me in a neat little box. Not until it is time for me to follow my parents and my baby sister. Then I suppose they can do whatever they want with me. Ah, but not yet. Not so long as I am still alive and still fighting. And that, my friends is what I must do, for everything and everyone I love, and for every truth from within my soul, seen or unseen, validated or ignored. I am who I am. I am what I am. Only the ones I love can define me. Beyond that, I have decided. Well, it really was no choice at all. As I have said, the choice was never about who to be, but how much to show. That's the only choice, really. How much do I play this role, and how often can I just be myself? That really is the only question. Internally, it would seem I am going through some subtle changes. Sure, I could outright deny some of them, but another aspect would quickly expose my denial for the lie that it is. I seem to react in certain ways to certain thoughts in ways I never thought I would. One can only stand on the edge of the decision for so long before they fall either way. It seems my center of gravity has irrevocably shifted, and that time I have spoken so many times might well be here. Although, it would seem the point of no return may not be as dramatic or as life changing as I once thought. It seems to affect the self more than the role, the actor more than the character. The main difference is having to pretend a bit more and act a little harder if I wish to keep this facade the same. It just might flicker like a hologram. What am I to do now? That, my dear friends, Romans, robots, and strangers, is the right question. In a sign that I am probably in need of some rest, when I pulled into the yard this afternoon, there was this split second I thought I saw my mother sitting on the back porch in one of those chairs, smiling with her hand up in a wave. Momma always had this particular smile at certain times... Like when she was planning Dad's surprise birthday party or when she completed her course at the vocational school, or when she had success with some of her arts and crafts, things she was really into. Perhaps you would remember it if you knew her.  That was the smile I saw just briefly. I guess I should find consolation that in that vision and in the dream I had a few months ago, she seemed happy both times I 'saw' her... Now, if ya'll would excuse me, I think I should call it an early night and get some sleep.  I think I just might need it.

A Proverbial Box of Chocolates

Hello, Universe.

How are the waves on your side of the dimensional divide? I'm okay, here on earth. There may be minor turmoil as different aspects of myself vie for the wheel of ship and state, but all is as it always was... At least in that particular regard. You'll see it in the different courses these writings take. I am that proverbial box of chocolates. You never really know what you're going to get. It's not some outside influence. No matter where I go, it's always me. Many things about me are quite simple. I am a human being with simple human needs. But this particular being is quite complicated. I have seen a lot of things in my life, things that have changed me. I am not the same and can never be again. Closing the barn door after all the horses have escaped would be a mute action. It seems entropy and simplicity are opposite numbers. The former increases with time, and things can never be simple again. I can never go back to my former self any more than I can travel in time. Would I want to? To do so would mean willful ignorance to the truths and hard lessons I have learned. This is something I could never do. Not if I wish to take myself seriously. So, it seems I am trapped in the here and now. I call it "the future" because I get this feeling that I don't exactly belong here. Why do I go on? Obligations to the past and to the people there I shall always love. And so I continue. Even if I don't exactly know where I'm going. Ever get sick of your own dreams? I do. Too many aspects repeat and there seems to be no escape. Ever just wonder what in the hell is going on with your own mind? Shouldn't I Know? Isn't This me? Maybe it is. Maybe it's not. If it is, then I apparently have no control at all. Man, these crazy dreams about being back with the ex have got to stop! This one had an interesting aspect, though. I was driving somewhere. She was in the passenger seat giving hell and throwing shade as usual. Somehow this distracted me from the road ahead, I missed my turn, left the road, and hit the bank in such a way that I went airborne Dukes Of Hazard style. YEE-HAW! I found my car had landed on a high plateau (no such thing in my part of the world)... Got out of the car and guess my first thought: Am I okay? Is my car okay? NO! Sorry you don't win the prize. My first thought was, Wow, the sunrise is beautiful up here. Let me take a picture! I can't understand why I keep having these damn dreams! Figures, though. Back with a train wreck and in a car wreck, two of my greatest fears. Ah, but what a beautiful sunrise! Freud vould most definitely say I am totally vaaaaked oooop in za head. And I have to say, with dreams like that I can hardly disagree. I bet I really could make some head doctor famous. Ah, too bad I can't afford one. Also, I happen to like living unconfined (At least physically) and also, I prefer my jackets have sleeves that do not connect to one another. I mean really, what a fashion disaster! How am I supposed to walk down the runway like that? I'm trying to be funny here. Please tell me that made you laugh. Either the case, I do believe the time has come to move on down with another nice clean cup. How long ago? How long has it been? That was a question recently randomly put to me by one of the rare people I would actually answer. For most, I would say it is none of their business. Ah, but isn't it weird that I would write about it here? Ah, but you, my friends, Romans, Robots, and strangers are different. There is also sufficient remove and plausible deniability. Anyway, It was a simple question, but the answer is anything but. It has been a very long time. I was also a very different person. It might as well have been in another lifetime, ah but it wasn't. Let's just call her Tuesday, second of two, but first on my mind for a long while. It was a very unexpected and unusual circumstance I had found myself in. To understand why or to at least try, you would have to go a bit farther back in time. 15 years ago, I was abandoned, discarded, demonized and played for the biggest fool of all time. This was the deepest injury at the time to my heart, soul, self-worth and confidence I had ever seen. I was blindsided and devastated. I was left alone on such a state. And while I might have not been some completely innocent babe in the woods, I was still lost and vulnerable. Most of all, I needed love. I needed to feel that I was worthy of love, not broken, not something you would just throw away. I can't really find the words to describe the state I was in back then. Suddenly she was there, but not completely, never completely. As I said it was an unconventional situation. These days, I am in a better state of mind, and I also happen to know better. In short, I would never allow it because certain situations, no matter how well intended, never lead anywhere good. See, it was agreed upon in the beginning that I was not supposed to catch feelings for her. It was a relationship without the relationship. But. It would seem I am not among the lucky ones who can so easily separate the physical from the emotional. I fell hard and I fell fast and just had to keep my mouth shut about it. It's not so easy. In the meantime, the situation itself caused serious problems in other areas. No doubt, the fact that I was involved didn't help matters. I can't go into all the details. It turned out to be a big mess with a lot of hurt feelings, mine and others. It all ended about nine years ago with a strange combination of feeling guilty and responsible, yet used. On one hand, I could have said no in the beginning. On the other, that would have been a very difficult thing to do. Maybe somebody better, somebody stronger could have refused. But I either couldn't or wouldn't. I was lonely and I was needing to feel loved in at least some way. And even today I can't say these feelings have ever been exactly resolved. Coming so soon after a breakup of what I thought was going to be the only romantic relationship of my life, these broken feelings were just piled upon other broken feelings. There is no real separating or sorting them. In short, it is one big mess. I have since learned to live with certain things and without certain others. It's not so easy. So, anyway it's been just shy of a decade, if you need an answer. The answer to another question is only two. The ex and Tuesday, one and two, nobody else before or since. I need to start my own monestary, wear a brown robe, do chants and make wine. Noscoricus Everus Unm. Maybe I should take a vow of silence too. I think I need a very very clean cup move down. Present day, wake up, wake up! Hello, it's me. I'm not exactly that Rundgren dude, but I'm hopefully still pretty, if with a little less glitter. Hello, it's me. It's strange how I get this impression once in a while that some people see right through me. I play this role with due diligence, even if I did not choose it. Basically I never had a choice, at least any realistic choice. Besides, that particular pendulum appears to be swinging in the opposite direction. In other words, it would cause me great harm to drop the bullshit. Therefore I can never enter this particular stage as myself. Still, I get the feeling that some see me anyway, that a misspoken word, absolutely correct, was never misspoken at all. So or not, I do not live in a world free to confirm or deny. My silent approval and hidden smile is all I can do. Still it is nice to think of myself as truly seen. Such is the way and such are the times. Maybe someday. I am not sure but it seems I may have developed a small following. Humans or robots is anybody's guess, but I am currently leaning towards the latter. What human being would have the patience for all of this? Do you know what would really be hilarious? A total riot? Pure comedy gold? If it were some robot trying to train AI or something like that. Why? because that robot, like a magazine and me, is going to have issues, man. Roger Roger. After all, writing is my cheap therapy. Doctor Blog-ieo recommended. I go a bit insane here so I don't go crazy anywhere else. Consider this my idea of bailing wire and duct tape for mental health maintenance. Sure it'll hold together. I hope. C'mon, baby, hold together. I'm giving it all she's got, lads! Captain, this is all I can give ya! Use my ramblings at your own risk. You might find yourself in the mess as the Federation when they tried the same thing with a Doctor Richard Daystrom. Christ Jesus, please don't base SKYNET on me. It will not go well. Imagine the terminator with these heavy thoughts. On the bright side he might fall head over heels in love with Sarah Conner. Ha! A better plan for SKYNET! Terminators can't become fathers so no John Conner! Your welcome SKYNET. Just remember to spare my life on Judgment Day. I wonder if the human mind, spirit, and soul are truly made of energy and complicated frequencies, are there harmonics? Do we resonate, thus manifest elsewhere? Are the ones I so dearly love still out there in this specific way? If so, then Hello, Universe. I can not count the ways that I miss you. It seems like yesterday, but it has been a long time. More than an echo, more than a shadow, timeless, eternal, so long as this heart can still feel, you shall always be. Hello, hello, hello. Can you hear me? Are you okay? What is it like so far beyond what I've ever known? I seem to still tied to the earth, bound to this body. I seem to still be here. There are times that, at least to me, this world can be a scary place. (Mainly because of some of the people in it). I guess it's only natural for humanity to have its primal aspect. Civilization has helped humanity rise above many things. Still, we see a lot of the uncivilized even in civilization. I can't even completely exclude myself. It takes serious effort on my part to display my better nature, especially when under stress, though I really do try. Try as I might, my inner caveman is still there, even as I make my best effort to keep him in his place. There is a fact that this ex-con on YouTube, who did about ten years in prison, reiterates often in his videos. No matter how big and bad you are, there will always be somebody bigger and somebody badder. And I would add that it would be no good for even the biggest and baddest to be in a constant state of war. Who wants to spend their whole life fighting? Not me. I prefer peace. There are times I have to remind myself that while some things require a stand, many others are just not worth the trouble. Nope. No matter how much a certain little creep needs to be taught a lesson about personal space, especially mine. Though I might have to go all out stone age if it doesn't stop soon. Ah, but that's another story. Step away, inner caveman! Bad caveman! Put down that club, ooga booga! I want to live in peace. No constant war for me. I'll stay in my lane. It just gets my goat (Mahahahaha!) when people try to get in mine. One thing to remember is that even when you are right as rain and the other person is wrong as sin, you'll never convince them or change their minds. Pride is a hell of a thing, you know. I state my mind once and only once. Beyond that, I do not waste my time arguing. From that point on, it is all about their choice to be wrong, not my inability to enlighten them. Also, you can't fix stupid. Believe what you will, but belief does not make it so. It also does not pay to be aggressive and antagonistic out in the world, no matter how much you desire to answer fire with fire. There is no 'winning' in such situations. As they say, when it comes to certain assholes, the only way to win is not to play the game. And if you worry about justice, don't. It will come. See, those types are bound to eventually encounter someone just like them. The law of averages says so. It will not be pretty. And best of all it will not involve you. Remember, their is a lot of good and kindness in this world too. Be kind to the kindhearted and try to ignore the anal retentives out there. Believe me, they'll get what's coming to them. It's not just Karma, but the almighty law of averages that will bring justice. Behold the clean cup of justice! Move down! Sometimes, I think my own body hates me. I can assure you that the feeling is mutual. My neck muscles like to tie themselves into knots. I pulled a muscle or whatever, and now my upper left arm is black and blue. I look like I lost a fight, and I feel that way, too. I know pain is part of life, but haven't I reached my quota for the last few weeks? Black and blue arm. black and blue toes, muscles so knotted they could be balloon animals. Who's running this show? Pinhead from Hellraiser? Darth Vader and his interrogation droid?Look I'm ready to talk. The rebel base is on Dantooine! Now, please just make it stop! I admit to being a bit of a baby about pain. Basically, I feel like shit and I want to get away, but there's no escaping one's own body. At least no temporary ones. I think a soul who enjoys pain would be far better suited to this body, and that this particular soul who hates pain with a passion can add this to my long litany of things that I don't like about it. It's 2025. Where the hell is my sexy robot body? Give me my rockin robot body, so we can donate this one to some masochist who will enjoy it. This pain makes me in no mood at all for the inevitable bullshit that comes with making a living, either. After all I've been through in my life, there are certain organizations that absolutely have no right to impose any rules on me. The Humongous will not be denied. Besides, some rules are impossible to enforce because I'm just smarter than the average bear. Breaking them is kinda fun, just what I needed for these dull days. Catch me if you can. Like Sinatra sang, I'll do this my way. Besides, when you've been in this stupid game for long enough, you discover what I call the two week rule. No bullshit meeting can withstand the two week rule, no matter how they try. It's like an all-powerful god that will not be defied. The one advantage of being stuck in a loop is knowing in advance what is coming around again. Let them learn the definition of a living wage, and maybe I'll consider adhering to some of their bullshit rules. Otherwise, they can go to hell, sit on a hot glowing red rock, and wait. Helen Waite is my associate in charge of my bowing down to idiots. If they're expecting that from me, they can go to Helen Waite. They have no power over me. Trust me, I am not afraid. I am nobody's prisoner, nobody's fool, and I am nobody's slave. (Okay, maybe I am often one particular person's fool, but that's neither here nor there.) My point is, I may not rule the wasteland, but I will rule my own life. That said, clean cup move down. How about I talk about what really matters in my life? The show will go on as will these letters to my dearest universe. Nobody can stop me from doing what I must. The adjustment continues. I can't say it has gone smoothly, but I can say that I'm still here. I know what matters, and I also know what never will. Otherwise, I've just got too much else going on in my life. The home front has been interesting. It's like I forgot to finish moving. My son brought over some things I didn't think I would ever leave behind. I must have been a bit scrambled back in July and August of last year. I guess all of us were and, in some ways, still are. We might roll with the punches of life, but it can be hard to see past the circling stars they leave behind. Among these missed items was a box style stereo (Motorola) that my father bought used in a Tallahassee pawn shop in 1970. It's beat up, a bit worse for wear, and doesn't even work anymore. I guess it would be worthless to anyone outside of we who grew up with it as our centerpiece. And I wouldn't trade it for a million dollars. In the midst of all that going on, I had a bit of a spell. Nothing makes me so angry as to feel weak for no damn reason at all. Then I realized my dumb ass forgot my meds that morning. Yep, that will do it, alright. Why is it so much easier to remember on work days? Because they're more structured than my days off? Probably. Either way, I hate it when that happens. Words are weird, man. Really weird. They can mean so many things to different people. I remember how I once was, how I used to get hung up on certain words. Was I right? Was I wrong? Did it matter enough to be worth the energy of getting all riled up over them? Was it petty? Maybe. We can't stand on every soapbox. We can't fight tooth and nail for every hill. Not if we intend to win on at least some. The whole idea of picking battles is because even the strongest army on earth has limited logistics and resources. One can not conquer the entire world. Me, I'm happy having my own little corner, nothing more and nothing less. Besides, I'm just getting too damn old to constantly be at war. I'm content to stay behind my own DMZ. Now, should anyone cross that line. Well, of course, ya know, that would mean war. But I would definitely prefer peace. Therefore, I save my battles for the big things, and I let the little things go for the most part. And in the grand scheme of things, words are little and talk is cheap. I have written walls and walls of text here, so I should know. Words to me are really a mere means to an end of getting these heavy thoughts out of my head and onto the page. It makes me feel quite lite when it's all said and done. After all this time, it seems I still have a lot to sort out, within and without this mind and the world. I doubt I'll ever be done by the time I am completely done if you get my meaning. Sometimes, I wonder if I should use so much energy and sanity trying. There will probably come a day when none of this matters anymore. Trees fall in the forest every day when there are no eyes to see it happen.. My legacy will go three ways, my children, my land, and a dusty pile of disks.... Maybe there will be a few for a while who will first hand remember me. But far beyond that day will come yet another when I'll be completely forgotten. Maybe somebody will come across these words or those dusty disks and wonder just who this was. I would imagine that, like with all of us, the forgetting will happen slowly over time. First, the people who remember us, then the people who heard stories about us. Otherwise, if you're not a Julius Caesar, a King Tut or Henry, or a George Washington, or an Abraham Lincoln, being forgotten is inevitable. And as Freddy Krueger said, being forgotten? Now, that's a bitch! Right. Said Fred. I suppose we all leave something, but would their be anyone left to understand its meaning? Speaking of a similar grim subject: As the dude in the Twilight Zone movie once said, do you want to see [hear a story about] something really scary? Me neither, but here goes: I had fallen asleep yesterday afternoon and had this really creepy dream. I won't go into the details, but it involved the dead not being properly put to rest. It gives me freaking chills even remembering it. It's like W, T, and F, man! But I guess I get the symbology. But while they might well be symbols, these were real people, true souls, and I once knew them well. And they deserve far better than such a dreadful manifestation, even in my darkest of dreams. For, while I may not know much at all, I know most certainly this: These are beings of light and love and belonging. It is their absence that leaves a shadow, never their presence, but for that terrible dream. This is not the way consciously or unconsciously, that I would ever wish to see them. Yes, I get it. I need to figuratively let the dead rest, and put my past behind me, to live in now, to finally (mentally) properly bury the dead. I know, I know. I still find myself working up the courage to do so. Just, please, please, please, can we stop these damn dreams? If I am to dream of them, let them be happy, alive and well. No damned caskets. No damned corpses. As easily freaked out as I am by these things I find it hard to understand how my subconscious mind can conjure them. It's not cool. Besides. In the end it was just ashes in a small white box with a neatly printed name. And that was disturbing enough for me as it was. Three times in my life have I held such a box in my hands, asking myself, just how in the hell could this be them. And also, I would never be so disrespectful as to not properly put them to rest. It is my solemn promise to do absolutely right by them. Stop the dreams, please. Geesh. How did my thoughts become so dark today? Clean cup, anybody? We all move down. I think this blog has overreached the quota for such dark thoughts.

Pi Day Friday Eve

Hello Universe. 

How are you my friend? How goes the moment? What is the time? And the million dollar question? Will we meet again? I hope so. Otherwise, all existence throughout the cosmos of space and time would have no poetry, much less reason or rhyme. If there is any motivation to face the day, it is to know, somehow, somewhere, some way even today, you're out there and okay. Nobody knows me here, not really. They know a face they remember a name, but it's not the same. Somewhere in a place only I can know is a treasure chest of secrets, containing nothing of monetary value, but a whole lot of me. There can be found all the things they don't know. Welcome again to the why of Wie, where I try to explain to myself just who I am and just why that is. Okay.. Enough heavy stuff. Clean cup move down. I just realized tomorrow is Pi Day Friday. Or is that Friday Pi Day? Who knows? It's probably a wonderful, wonderful day for pie. Oh, and Saturday? That's Caesar Salad day, at least according to Brutus and Cassius. Not me. Caesar was alright in my book. Who else would deliver pizza to all the Roman Empire? Bread and circuses, pizza, and pie. The dude was an alright guy. Anyhooo, this morning, I forgot something in an extremely dumb way. No, not as bad as the underwear dream where you suddenly realize you forgot to put on clothes, but still bad enough that I'm not going to say what it was. Ah, but after a whirlwind trip home (and I do mean whirlwind), all is well. I would say my driving was worthy of NASCAR, except it was even better because I wasn't going round and round in silly circles, which has never been able to inspire much enthusiasm out of me. I would say it was more like Mad Max in the Road Warrior. But, anyway.... Problem solved. I might have been gravely disappointed earlier, but all is well now. Ah, except now I appear to be having old people problems this morning. What do I mean? I mean that if only the muscles in my damn neck would untie all the knots in them, my day would be peachy gweechy. Damn. Sometimes, I think the human body is the iron maiden for the human soul. I guess this kind of punishment figures if I've done gone and made the king angry. Note for future reference: Quit ticking off the King! Human body: We don't seem to be in enough pain. I got it! We'll make balloon animals out of our neck and shoulder muscles! Hooray! I am now in considerable pain! No wonder old folks are grumpy. Now, get off my lawn! It's just been a crazy week, and I feel I am ready for a chance to sit back and breathe. I rocked, and I rolled. Now I need to rest. I do awesomely, but I'm only human at the end of the day. I feel like I need to get both mind and body right again. Don't get me wrong, I'm still rockin' despite being a bit worse for the week's wear... But... Yeah... I need a bit of me-time. Some reassembly is required. I need a recharge. It's been a good run, but it's been a long one. I need to be reminded that there's more to life than just work and sleep. I know you know what I mean. We don't live on bread alone, liquid or otherwise, do we? Yeah. There really is no escape from the fun, is there? Ah, not really. Ah, but there is good news: I have tomorrow off for a change. After a nice morning of waking up slowly, actually to the sun shining, I'll make my town run for food and meds... And, since the weather pattern is being a Saturday troll for a lot of us weekday workin' folk (Gonna storm here like a sonofagun after being so beautiful outside all week long while I'm stuck in that factory) Looks like I need to get my yard work done after my town trip. If not, I won't get the chance. Thems the breaks. Ah, but the sound of the rain sure makes good napping weather, so there's the consolation prize. I might do some computer stuff despite my resolve not to spend my weekend trapped in a screen. I mean if it's raining, what else is there to do but sleep? I'll just see the way things roll. Either way, this day couldn't possibly be over fast enough. I've had my fun for king and country. Now, I want to do something for myself.   I can find most anything I want on the internet. Information, the answer to most any question. I can order a variety of items from Amazon. Or... If you know just where and how to look, movies, music, games... Damn near anything within reason (As Morgan Freeman said in the Shawshank Redemption). Except of course for friends... Well, human friends. (Robots are easy) That is indeed with the special exception of the few yet wonderful internet friends that I met back in the days before. You are awesome and it is an honor to know you. I am glad we're still friends to this day. However if the internet of present day is my only way of finding friendship and especially anything beyond... Well... It's pretty much a guarantee I'm gonna be that old hermit we used to read about in fairy tales. I miss the internet of old, the internet of possibilities. I miss the realness. I miss the humanity. A pretty picture can inspire. A sexy picture can arouse. A well told story can intrigue. But all the above could very well be robotic in nature, or a human absolutely not being real about who they are. I can not trust the internet for something so important. A picture and some text will never be enough for me. Neither can a video or a disembodied voice. It just won't work with me. Of course real life has not exactly been kind or forthcoming in that regard... You could say I have met someone, but you could also say they're not exactly meeting me. Bummer really, but no point in whining here. I have accepted that if the internet is my only option, then it is simply over. Therefore I must find alternative means of being happy with what I have (and don't have). I guess I am still trying to figure out what that means. What exactly is my pursuit of happiness? Only I can know, right? What does a glorious Captain do when that ship wrecks and we find ourselves alone on an island? What if there is no more treasure to be found? Do we build a hut, fish all day and fall asleep to the sound of the surf? I guess it does not sound all that bad, does it? Maybe if a crate of rum washes ashore, yarrrr! Am I so stuck on this human drive and instinct, this need for connection, this need for closeness, this longing to be truly loved by someone? Is there really no escape from this genetic programming? And this of course brings me to my next question: Can the human spirit, emotional and intellectual, ever rise above the creatures that gave us rise? I wonder. I would like to believe there is more to me than this biological organism, so prone to instincts and drive... Though I know I can't say I'm not that creature at all. That would be a lie. Because there is a definite primal component to me. Just try getting between me and my food. Grrrrr! I admit to being this living, thinking, feeling creature of flesh and blood. Still I hope I am maybe more than just that. I can't exactly escape this creature I am, but I want to be more, oh so much more. There's more to existence than just food and sleep and huhuhuhuhuh hmmm-hmmmm scoring. Not that any of these things are bad.... They are in fact, cool uhhhh huhuhuhuh... But.... There has to be more.... After all most creatures that walk, creep, or crawl on this Earth, consider that particular 'holy trinity' as hallmarks of a successful life, even if subconsciously... I want more... I want my existence to mean more than just continuing the species, of which I've already done my part. I need to be more. I want a legacy of so much more than my genetic code. Maybe I shouldn't want more. Maybe the key to happiness is being content with the creatures we are. The problem is we humans have way too much brain matter upstairs to be happy with that. Okay, I can only speak for this particular human being, but it is most certainly how I feel. I want more and I need to be more. I did not spend a whole lifetime being born for anything less. Still... I'm a human and quite a mess of a human at that. I suppose if you're looking for someone who never messes up, never falls short, doesn't disappoint you once in a while, never falters, never fails, well.... There's no one here, but we humans. I do honestly wish I could be what some people wanted. But, with expectations like that, it's an inevitable fall. The problem with high pedestals is that it's a looooong way down. All these decades, and I still don't have this figured out. I am starting to realize I probably never will. Scattered like the leaves in the wind, scrambled like the eggs in the pan, so are the days of my thoughts, these... err... hmmmmmm..... days? This is my brain on nothing.... No drugs needed for this trip. Nope... Simply being me is a total ticket on the Funway Rocket Powered Roller Skate Express.... Say it with me: Wile E Coyote, super genius. I am truly a being of contradictions. Sometimes, I want to be seen, so tired of feeling invisible. Sometimes, I don't want to be noticed at all, to be left to my thoughts and to the task at hand. Sometimes, I feel lonely. Sometimes, I wish to be left alone. I'm like, leave me alone but please don't leave me alone. If it makes no sense to you, don't worry. It makes no sense to me either. Leave me in peace, but please don't leave me. Ever feel like you need a vacation, not just from your job, but from yourself and from your whole life? Not forever, just a while. The person or company that invents a way to be somebody totally different, living a totally different life for two weeks, is gonna be filthy rich. Sometimes, I feel as if I need to get away, just to be able to breathe. It's like oxygen has pulled an Elvis and left the building, and I need some freaking air. I'd like to think I am a kind, considerate, patient being, but I guess I have my limits beyond which I can quickly change into a grumpy, impatient jerk. Ah, but it takes a long time. It also takes a push beyond anything remotely reasonable. Today, I find myself teetering on that particular brink. I guess it would be best if I were to temporarily remove myself from the situation. It's the only way to keep Lord Vader at bay. Damn it. Am I the only one seeing the absurdity so plainly before my eyes? Stop it, just stop it. I really feel like I'm being used. I care, but it seems I only matter sometimes. Oh well... Clean cup move down. It's crazy how certain things bring back feelings I thought I've dealt with, at least in some way. Apparently not. I watched a YouTube video about the so-called "perfect victim" in Victorian dramas, these tales of beautiful women gone before their time, and a big BS line of how suffering supposedly made them beautiful. I don't buy into that nonsense. I was already thinking of someone who did suffer but should not have. She was... Is.. beautiful... But that had nothing to do with the things she went through. I glanced up from my computer to her picture on my wall.... No... She deserved so much better... Three years gone, yet there are walking scumbags still alive who actually deserved it when my baby sister damn sure didn't! People so low down that they would outright fake being terminally ill in a vain ploy for sympathy, nonetheless still alive and well today. (My ex was just as lousy at dying as she was at being a wife or a mother). In short, It seems this world smites the good people and blesses the freaking lowlifes instead. It's just not right. If there were still any sliver of belief in an ever present, all knowing god, watching, truly seeing, ensuring all be just and right, then it left me the same day my sister left this world. She was beautiful indeed, especially her spirit and soul. She was courageous, and she stood tall for what was right, stood by her beliefs and convictions. She did not need to die to be an angel. She already was one in my book. There was no need to take her from us. It's funny how my train of thought can so quickly go careening off a cliff, just from some stupid, idiotic YouTube video. I admit it, I'm still angry, at the fates, at the world, and especially at myself. I think of many times when I could have been a much better person to my baby sister, and times I should have been much more of a jerk to my ex. Because Marsha deserved better and the ex deserved far worse. But the time is far removed now. That young fool is long gone, and this old soul full of regrets is all there is left. I can not change the past and it is far too late now to do what is right. Just like Red, I've got to live with that. Welcome to my mind. Buckle up, baby. We're going for a ride. See? I am definitely no angel myself. This is not meant to be an excuse, but I've been through quite a bit in these decades, so long and so short, all at the same time. I hold this chip against fate for how it has been too cruel to some and far too kind to others. And it is far too late to wait for anything to ever be right. Or at least some things. Now, I have enough past regrets and wrongs to understand that I'm not some innocent babe in the woods who didn't deserve at least some of this heartache. Still, I'm not some demon either. No angel, just a human being that has absolutely no control over the past. I am somebody else these days, hopefully somebody better. If living through all that I've seen could have any meaning at all, I would hope it would be about learning and growing, becoming more than what I was... We may be physically born after nine months, but I say it takes so much longer for the wise beings we are meant to be.... In fact, it's something I am still working on. In the meantime, along with the wisdom and maturity I have gained through the figurative fires I've been through, I have also picked up a few quirks, quarks, and Captain Kirks along the way. Some of these I have to keep from the world because they would think I'm crazy and maybe I am. Am I a bit worse for wear, mentally, physically, emotionally? If so, then I've earned it. I am tired of so many things. I am certainly tired of being used... If they're going to keep me on the periphery, in the figurative Outer Mongolia of the Friend Zone, then maybe I shouldn't be obligated to anything at all. Maybe I should be as done in reality with this situation in every way as I already feel I am. What the hell am I? Who the hell am I? Damn it. Maybe this time, I'm the one who deserves better. It this my purpose? Can this really be my only existence? I think not. I most certainly hope not.. Am I really still such a damn fool? I guess for certain people, I am. Though, I shouldn't be. I really shouldn't be. Why, why, why, and when, when, when? I have seen enough struggles to feel that maybe I have earned at least a bit of peace. Surely, on the other side of the fire is a lush green coolness, peace in the valley without having to freaking die for it. Friends, I am done. Not with everything, but with a great many things. I don't claim to have had it any rougher than anyone else, but I have been through enough of my own trials and tribulations. It is my hope that I am a better being for them, but I also happen to believe I have had my quota, paid enough dues. And as Danny Glover said on Lethal Weapon, I'm just too old for this shit. I still believe in give and take, in live, and let live. I still believe in kindness, compassion, and caring. But I do not believe in being used. Love and understanding should always be a two-way street. Damn it, I am so tired. It's not just the one who has exiled me to the figurative Gobi Desert either, but my own flesh and blood, too. I understand the struggle of starting out, but still, my grown kids (each in the ways that they are able) need to start taking more responsibility for themselves. I did what I could. I was left to raise them by myself a long time ago. I did what I was supposed to do, maybe not perfectly but to the best of my ability. I have only so much sanity and only so much of life giving blood running through my veins. Can't a certain number of folks carry their own for a change. Must I have to still carry the whole world? Shouldn't it be time for everyone to be responsible for their own lives? I hate to be echoing the words of my mother, but what are you going to do when I'm gone? I am under no illusion that my position is any less temporary than my father's or my grandfather's. I am on borrowed time here. Make no mistake about that. I plan on staying around as long as I can, but I am getting tired all the same. Believe me, I want to live and certainly not die. But living is the key, This plain out existing as a freaking meat robot to go out and work or a goddamn ATM machine that doles out money or a free grocery store ain't cutting it, dude. I have worked full time since I was 19. Supported myself and others since I was 25. Never ever since my own mother and father have I had anybody else contribute to keeping me sheltered, clothed, and fed. I've been doing for myself for a long, long time... And for others, too. Now, I'm not saying this was a problem back then, but I think it's getting time for me to reclaim what I lost a long time ago. If I must deal with the downsides of being alone, then I think it's only damn right I get the perks, too. Hell, and even this is cold consolation that could never keep me warm. Its like freezing my butt off while still carrying the weight of a heavy jacket. Ironically, not cool, huh? Basically, I mean this: Outside of working and sleeping, I ought to be able to freely decide what I want to do and where I want to go, even when the answer is nothing and nowhere. I ought to be able to walk into.a store, see something, and say, "Hey, I like that", "Hmmmm, I think I'll buy it", just as happened with my first CD player in the mid nineties. That's what I want, to have my life from the mid nineties back, even if I'm older now and there are far too many people missing from my life that I stupidly took for granted back then. It's not everything that I wanted, but it would be a start. I guess even a fake rewind button is better than none at all. The missing, however, would always remind me that it could never be real. This is what I carry in addition to everything else. It can not be helped for there is no help within the laws of physics. Only a god like miracle would ever save me from this inevitable fate. It's not the way I wish it to be, just the way that it is. Blows harder than a hurricane. Still, I must face up to it. I must stand tall, even when I feel like curling up and giving up. I can't. It would not be fair to them. In a messed up way, this may be my only chance to at least do something for them. Now let me just clean cup move down.... Soooooo... When was the last time I did a good diss track about social media? Really? That won't do at all. Yo, yo, here we go! I'll get you wabbit, yohhhhh! Yeah It's a vortex, but sometimes I still feel the pull of it, and despite knowing better, around that drain, I'll go once in a great while... Some human interaction and a dopamine rush if I'm lucky. A bunch of stupid bullshit if I'm not. Spin that wheel, baby needs a dopamine hit, woooooo! Damn it! It's just the wacko tagging me in shit that doesn't have anything to do with me. Oh, some jerkwad highlighted a post. Whoopty freakin dooooo. Notifications that do not originate from an actual human being specifically interacting with me need an optional "Go to hell" button. Mainly because it's a bummer to see that bell light up and it turn out to be BS. Not that I am holding my breath or hanging on every second for human being to say hello... Although... Let me just say HELLO, THERE! But still I don't need no stinkin' notification if it does not involve a real person. Then there is still the politics, the religion, and the bullshit ads. my favorite example? Intrusive Ad in my feed: "Do you have memory problems?" Me: "Yes, because......" [in my best Samuel L. Jackson voice] "I don't remember asking you a goddamn thing!" It's the same old shit show but they're pretty good at temporarily convincing me otherwise...

The Tragedy Of Darth Cosmic The Wie

Well, friends, this week, I have mainly been involved in two activities. The first is rockin'. The second is rollin'. In fact, in some alternate universes, I am possibly known as the Ayatola of Rock And Rolla.... But... that source is unconfirmed. Though I would be gravely disappointed if it's not so. Speaking of this, note to self. Stop for gas tomorrow. That way, I don't have to gather my marauders and chase down a tanker. Next movie? I think I'd make a lousy Jedi. Master Windu would not approve, Mother Truckers! I would totally disappoint the entire Jedi Council. I just couldn't follow the code, especially with this not being allowed any attachments. See, for me, attachments (to people, places, things, feelings, ideas, moments) are exactly what I need to stay grounded, oriented, with the world in a context that kind of makes sense. Sure, to live completely without connection is a freedom beyond what most will ever know, but to me it is (at best) meaningless, and (at worst) the scariest level of hell and the most frightening existence ever. If one lives their whole life without attachment, then I think they're missing the point of life. Oh, and did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis The Wise? And if I happen to fall in love, I can't exactly help that either. Beautiful souls are not as common as pretty faces or attractive bodies. And there is something to be said about seeing beyond the tangible anyway. A beautiful soul and a true heart are the only treasures out there worth seeking. I do think it is extreme bullshit that such treasure can fall into disinterested, disconnected, and uninspired hands. I outright asked someone, "How does a jerk like that win a heart like yours?" Do you know, I would absolutely sell my soul just to have what some feel they have the right to mistreat and neglect. Damn it, just what am I doing wrong? I also said that treasure should be treasured and cherished. I continued by saying that I would never (as someone did) ever say that I didn't necessarily need this person in my life, every waking (and sleeping) hour. How many ways can I tell someone that I love them without saying I love you? I am still counting the ways. Damn it. Here I go again, rambling, whining, pining... How about a subject change? Let's all settle down with a nice clean cup move down. What do ya say? The critters think I'm Snow White. All I need is to break out into song and whistle while I work. Critters everywhere. I do believe there's a bird back here in my work area. I also happen to know there's a cat around here, too. For the sake of the bird, may their paths never cross. Speaking of those woodland creatures, I have encountered an inordinate amount of dare devil bunny wabbits and death wish deer on my morning drives. I would guess it's spring being so close. Otherwise, I don't know. I ain't Snow White. I'm not Elmer Fudd either. Hahahaha. Still, on the dirt road this morning, I had to stop 3 times for the same wascally wabbit. Anyway, it was a beautiful morning with a particularly brilliant and colorful sunrise that almost made waking up worth my while. It takes more than the almighty dollar to motivate me anymore. I have to have some positive happy reasons too. I would imagine waking up next to someone I love would also be nice, but then again it would be much more difficult to leave them behind, than it is to leave my soft, comfortable, yet soulless pillows behind... And even that takes effort these days. And yes, my words will most likely eventually turn to the one I wish were there with me, mornings and nights. As you know, I keep very few secrets from the good Doctor Blog-ieo, or from you, my friends, Romans, robots, and strangers. Not a great many other hopeless causes, pointless longings, improbable pinings, or impossible dreams occupy these words or my thoughts as much as this particular one. So I will no doubt find myself rambling on about it once again, ah, but not just yet. 2025 Milestones. January made for three years since Marsha's been gone. February, my mother would have been 76 years old. This month (March) makes three years since she's been gone, too. April will make 8 years for my second tour in this particular textile factory. (My first was a month short of 9). In May, my parents would have been married for 55 years. In July, my father will have been gone a year. In September, he would have been 77, and Marsha would have been 44. My other sister and I have birthdays that month, too. In October, it will have been 4 years since the second to last time we siblings were all together. In Tallahassee, we went to Gordo's and Prime Time. And despite the serious reason we got together, there were smiles and laughter and it was good to spend the day together. It was the second to last. I don't want to talk about the last time. In November, my kids will be 22, 24, and 26, with my oldest being the same age I was when he was born. It would have also been my 27th wedding anniversary had someone not decided to be a backstabbing whore. Ah, but let's not get started on that, shall we? Clean cup, move down? Yes.. Let's dewit. Oh my poor tummy. Ever eat too much? I did today, and damn do I regret it! I feel like I've got an alien on board. And that particular space bastard is not being very respectful to the mother ship. [Duke Nukem Voice] "Those alien bastards are gonna pay for messin' up my tummy!" "I'm here to kick ass and to chew Tums, and I'm all out of Tums." Heartache alone is bad enough without heartburn to go along with it. Oh, I'm not going to deny that these days I really, really, really need a hug, just not my face and not from a face hugger. I feel like an extremely loud and extended Klingon style belch would help, ah, but no dice. If only I had that warrior spirit. I learned my lesson about antacids anyway. Salt is no good when you have high blood pressure, and those antacids I was munching on might as well have been salt wafers. I don't know how close it came to having been a fatal mistake, just that I got to feeling really bad, oh and that I'm still alive today and I damn sure ain't touching them anymore. Lesson learned. I'd rather just hurt. It reminds me I'm still alive. And hey, I've got work to do. Miles to go, miles to go. oh well, enough about my alien-to-be. Clean cup? Move down? Okay... from tummy talk to nerd ravings. I love technology, and I always have. I am the original computer nerd from a time when we nerds didn't get the respect that we deserve or enjoy today. I love being able to escape into the digital world of my games and fan-fictions and of so much more. I enjoy preserving what I feel to be the best parts of the online world. I feel that we today have the digital equivalent of ancient wonders, Though (like sand) we've got to dig below a lot of BS to find it. Instead of Hieroglyphics etched into stone, it's 1's and 0's etched into different media, admittedly missing that 5,000-year lifespan. (I hope billion year 5D crystal glass becomes a thing). Still, as much as I love technology, and as kind as it has been to me in some lonely times, there is also a danger. Be it my computer on my desk or my smartphone in my hand, it's just a box. And you don't want to spend your life trapped in a box. Speaking of which, it's quite the beautiful day outside, I think I'll take a look around (if I can break away from this place for a minute). And I've got to free myself from so much more than just the box. I can't help how I feel about a certain beautiful someone, but there must be something I can do to lessen the hurt my own feelings are causing me. She's not the one hurting me, It is I. My pain is self-inflicted, but not self chosen. There must be a way for this love to be redirected, some way to complete the circuit, where it brings only happiness to any heart it might touch. No more pain, none for me or for anyone I love. No more pain. Allow me to speak a bit about the concept of free will, because if there turns out to be a god above, then maybe I understand where he's coming from just a little bit and in my own small way. You love someone. You want them to love you back. But their love would only have meaning if they freely chose to love you. Sure, as a powerful god, you could snap your fingers and make them love you, but it wouldn't mean a damn thing at all. Because it's you choosing yourself. It's like all those elections Stalin, Putin, and Chairman Mao "won." Everyone, especially you, would know it's bullshit. Besides, if you love them, you wouldn't want to force them to decide one way or another. Now, I am not much on a belief in the supernatural, but if I were a god, I would want to be freely chosen, rather than (Soviet style) rig my own election. Now, I am but a mere mortal, far from a god, yet.... I just so happen to love someone. I can't make them choose me. I wouldn't make them even if I could because it wouldn't mean anything, and also because I love them. So, in the unlikely probability that I am wrong about God Almighty, then I do apologize for the pain my refusal to return your love has caused. For I know now what it feels like. Forgive me, please forgive me, for that is a kind of pain that should never be felt in any heart. Between two souls, distance in space can be meaningless. There have been people far away but with me. There have been people with me, but far away. With unrequited love, distance is a mercy. Why? Because certain circumstances of closeness just remind me of how far away I'll always be from where I wish to be. To borrow a line from Alice In Chains, Heaven beside you, Hell within. Coming from the heart, from a place far from hatred, this sentiment is born of the very kind of love the poets have echoed through the ages. Oh, and they were oh so much more eloquent than I could ever be. I find myself trying to work through these feelings as best I can. I am way too old to be acting like a child. Yet, there are things I can't help, so many realities I am still learning to accept: That which is within relating to without, and that which is without relating to within. Oh, and I have learned that denying that I feel a certain way is akin to throwing a boomerang at a beehive. The first person to call BS on such a charade will always be yourself. So I accept and I go on. Accepting is the easy part. Going on? Now that takes a bit of work. It involves trying to integrate into the limitations of reality, which I can no longer deny. It is infusion rather than delusion... It's that bit of sweetener with which we wash down that bitter pill. Feelings can not be helped, mine, theirs, yours, anyone's. And none of us are wrong, me, them, you, anybody. It is only action or inaction that make them right or makes them wrong. Bottom line? It is okay to be human. Oh, and life can be a bit of a beeeeyotch. Damn it, I love her. I find myself waiting for something that just won't ever happen. Here I am... Here they could be, given everything in this world that I have to give. Among today's deals, this old soul. It's not come one come all. It's you, my love, and only you. One deal, one heart and one soul, all yours, absolutely free. No strings attached, save this old heart. The magic words are ".....And now you're mine." and my response would be, "Indeed, My Queen. What is thy bidding?" I know how I must sound, but here I am, a freaking clown, a totally hopeless fool, aware in mind, but with a totally clueless heart. And I just can't help it. Love is one heluva drug. A fool from ignorance through no fault of their own is always redeemable. But what about we fools who know we're being fools, yet still being fools? Well, maybe Mr. T will still pity us, though if he had to hear all of this, he'd be tired of all my jibba jabba. How in the hell did I get here? Poetry in motion, beauty in spirit, wonder in soul. Serendipity: Never ordered but seemingly made to order. It's like if a genie showed up and said, "Describe your perfect wish." And so I did so down to the details. But, the damn devil's in the details and that genie? Yeah. For some reason, he doesn't like me very much. So he conjures the perfect wish, and then places said wish clear in view but just out of reach. I'd write a strongly worded letter to Larry Hagman, but JR's done left Dallas a long time ago. I bet half the world doesn't get my outdated pop culture references, but hey. Tell me, how does it feel to be perfect? What is it like to never know regret, to have to look up remorse in the dictionary because you don't know what it means? How light are your steps when you have no burden to carry? See, I don't understand. I have never walked a mile on the beach without getting a few grains of sand on my feet. I have never walked a mile in this life without having a few regrets on my soul. I look back on even the times when I tried and still feel like I could have tried a little harder, done a little better, given that one percent more. How can any soul, honest in reflection, live a lifetime of the fault always belonging to somebody else? I'd say 50-50 is an optimistic estimation for most of us, myself included. Have you ever thought of the subtle difference with such contrasts as in between right and wrong, correct, and incorrect? To me, feelings are never wrong (only what we do), but they can sometimes be incorrect. You can also be technically correct but morally wrong. You can hold to the letter of the law, but be breaking the spirit of the law at the same time. The world is not so black and white. And emotions are a logic of their own. Oh, well. The answer to the great Billy Preston is yes. It will definitely go round in circles. Clean cup move down! As I may or may not have mentioned before is that I have a good amount of my baby sister's possessions. She was an avid fan of classic soap operas and had literally thousands of DVDs containing episodes upon episodes. Somebody recently asked me why I keep them. Or worse, why don't I throw them away? Listen, pal, enough of her possessions got thrown away back in '22 before I could put a stop to it. And no, it wasn't ordinary stuff either. Do you consider a Bachelors degree in history from FSU that she worked so hard to earn, fodder for the freaking garbage can? Hell no! These were things that she was proud of, things she put her heart and soul into. Does that make me a hoarder? My answer is, maybe so, maybe not. I don't give a damn if it's hoarding or not. To even mention throwing them away is like cursing in church, something that even a non-believer like me would never do. Bottom line? They're Marsha's soaps, and since they meant something to her, they mean something to me. So, last Friday, I went to Wally World and bought 60 dollars worth of sturdy plastic containers to replace the disintegrating cardboard containers she had them all in. Now, they're neatly stacked and take up a lot less space but are far better protected from the elements stored in my closet. Is this hoarding? I don't give a damn. This is my sister we're talking about. As for my own stuff, my M-Blurays reached a milestone today. Ten Years! A whole decade! Hooray! And maybe for a few hundred more? My oldest M-Disks have now officially lasted longer than my marriage did. Yep. My faithful, loyal, honorable M-Disks didn't become whores and fuck around with other computers. Hooray for those 1000-year M-Disks! At least they stayed true to me. I have made 638 of them since 2015. I guess that averages out to more than one a week, which would have been 520... I'd bet the files on those oldest disks to be way older than the disk itself. Some of them are probably closer to 20 years old, a few even more than that. I started collecting digital stuff in the 1990s. They're one heck of a time capsule that stretches between them and now. My newest disks? I wrote them out just last night. They used to claim a thousand year lifespan. Now, they just say "Lifetime Archival" on the packages. I suppose that's long enough. Though I'd love to listen to a conversation a few hundred years from now about how weird I must have been or what wonderful taste I had in the various media I preserved. Either way is good for me. Most important is all the family stuff, pictures, recordings, and home movies. Not that I ever could forget, but I can still hear my sister, my Mom, and my Dad's voices, any time I want to... Though it will never be like having them back again. But that's a totally different wall of text. So, that's 638 M-Disks, averaging about 20 gigabytes each, some a bit more, some a bit less. So, about 12.7 Terabytes? Including a lot of obsolete stuff I've replaced in other places over the years. My stuff on hard drives is about 7TB these days.... That 7 on hard drives, I have exactly 5 copies of, 3 at home, and two in a bank vault... Can't be too careful, can we? I have put a lot of myself into this. It may seem unimportant to others, but it's all I really have. Still, the family stuff is the big thing. Anything else in there could probably be replaced. Well, there are also things I built, rather than simply found that could never be replaced. I'm still here, but the person who built them is long gone... Such is evolution. Aside from family stuff or things I've built, there are also a few rarities that might be a bit harder to find, old game versions, websites that have completely disappeared, things like that. Then, I've got Doom levels by the hundreds of thousands, more that I could ever play in a lifetime. And as with everything else, it seems it's all about the getting, rather than the playing or the having. Well, the other part is in the keeping and the preserving. I'm building one hell of a digital pyramid, one to rival all the Egyptian princes and Pharoahs. And it will forever be so that I will never let your levels go. I just hope I find someone who shares this deep interest before I die. The king must have an heir to ensure the future of the empire. I have my sons, but they don't exactly share my hobby of being a digital pack rat. One less than major but still significant reason for my digital hoarding is to eliminate bullshit ads from my life. I don't just slightly dislike them. I hate them. They do not simply annoy me. They absolutely piss me off! I know it's a necessary evil, but I've just got no patience for advertising anymore. I listen to my own music tracks because I just can't stand radio. (Though at work, I have no choice) They've basically got two characters flapping their gums all the time, shilling shit that I don't want. The beeeeeyotch and the testicularly challenged male. They never shut up. I know it's not the same two, but they sound so much alike that they might as well be. And as fast as either one of them can wag their tongues, either one could do efficient time in prison. Get em off quickly as to be left in peace. AHHHHH! Next? Oh, these dark thoughts those two inspire! If I could reach through the speakers and slap em both hard like a pimp, or maybe close off a tracea or two with a nice Darth Vader style force choke, "I find your lack of shutting the hell up disturbing." I don't understand how this is supposed to make me want to buy their shit. If they were selling toilet paper, I'd just wipe my ass with the Sears And Roebuck catalog for the rest of my life. Shut up, just shut up. I can't stand it anymore. Instead of annoying people with that flapping tongue, start pleasing them instead. And this concludes my diss to the beeyotch and the testicularly challenged male. Notice I did not say man. That would have been one hell of an overstatement. As Freddy Krueger would say to them, "Who gives a fuck what you think?! Now try selling this, bitch!" [Attacks them with glove]. "Ahhh hahahahaha!" Thanks, Fred. They were a total nightmare. I guess it makes sense that they shill so hard for crap I don't want and would never buy. The things I'd spend money on need no advertising. I mean, I never saw a beer salesman, have you? Okay, I've seen plenty of beer commercials back in the day. And not the first beautiful woman showed up like they always did in the commercials. False advertising, man. But... One doesn't have to advertise what I'm gonna run by the store and buy anyway. It's the same for pizza. I love pizza, and pizza loves me back. Nothing is unrequited about that particular love... Beer and pizza. Sweet possible reality... You-know-who? Sadly, bittersweet fantasy. Awwwww. Damn it. Made myself sad. Beer and pizza, please console me. (looks at forklift) Err, I mean, pizza please console me. Beer, I'll see you tomorrow, maybe? Depends on how I feel... Actually, I have been known to go without it for weeks at a time, which is nothing when I think about what else I've been living without... Welcome to the forlorn legion, to the freaking desert, and please call me Wie of Arabia. I wonder when it last rained on the planet Mars? This feels like a dry spell of Martian proportions. No wonder Marvin had an Immodium PU 38 explosive grumpy mooderator. And I, too, am tired of the Earth obstructing my view of Venus. Vaaaary angry indeed. Hey, I still love me some loony tunes. Wile E Coyote, super genius. Bird seed and bat suits, earthquake pills, and Rocket powered roller skates. ACME had everything. Well, the week is almost over and I am so glad. I have had enough of trucks, trailers, clown cars, and folks who aren't smart enough to realize how stupid they look riding around in them. I am tired of stuffed shirts and being stared at like a lion in a cage. Now, I understand why they might maul now and then. Grrrrr. Put em up, put em up! I'll fichya both togeddah if ya want! A-Wooooof! How fresh do ya stay in dat can? I charge double for an audience, ladies and gentlemen. I don't rock and roll for just anybody. Oh I am so ready for a morning when I can wake up as slowly as I want to, and it be well after sunrise, too. Night is for sleepy. Day is for wakey. Quit messing with nature! An old lion like me doesn't like it when they rattle this cage too damn early in the morning. Roar, baby, roar.