The Waiting Room

I've finally gotten to the point in life where I'm quite happy to abstain from the mind games. I'm like Danny Glover in the Lethal Weapon movies, too old for this shit. Besides, where did it ever get me? Lemmie tell ya where I am now.... Ruler of my own fate, listener of some good tunes, and far happier now than I ever was when in said game. Sometimes, the way to win is to quit playing. It does not make you a loser. It makes you smaaahtah den da average bear. I am matter. I am energy. Though lately it seems like slightly more matter and a bit less energy. A little too much jelly in the belly. I've got to get back rocking on the dieting and exercising. I mean I am far from looking like Jabba The Hut or Moby Dick, but I damn sure don't wanna get any closer. Just my mind talking. My body? It most definitely wants to be fat. Bring on the jelly donuts! It seems I'm always hungry and never not. I argue with myself. I'm hungry. No you're not! Such is the battle within. I am, in fact, many things. I am a waveform, not a particle. There are many shades of Wie. I have several names, but only one face. I have only one heart, and I am only one soul. But both are deep wells of many possibilities. It's not identity disorder or multiple personality. At the end of the day in whatever form, it is only me. Sometimes I can see better the other side of the precipice on which I stand. My center, especially that of gravity, tends to ebb and flow, pushing me forward then pulling me back. The actor, the space cadet, and the true self: It is I, and we are we. We are the Wie. The Wie and the I. And so, why, ladies and gentlemen, do I bring this up? Because these many shades and these mighty contrasts will show through in these words. Contrasts are not contradictions. They're merely different shadows and various points of light, refractions and reflections from many different angles cast through the lens of my thoughts and emotions. In other words, it's all me, baby. Its all a mess, but I will own it all. Why? Because I am the mess that made it. Hopefully I am at least consistent in this one way, if in none other. Sooo. Anyway, that's that. Continue. Clean cup, move down. Look out for white rabbits, Cheshire cats, and mad watches. You know? I find myself waiting.... For the sun? For a falling star? For the other shoe to drop? For the sky to fall? For a taco pan pizza? For a super duper double bacon burger with fries? For a million dollars? For the end? For new beginnings? "For a girl like you"? (What's up with these songs?) Really, I am alright. I can't say I am happy with the status quo, but I am okay with it. I have seen how it can actually be far worse for those 'fortunate ones' sometimes. Like I said, it's neither heaven nor hell, more like purgatory. Like those old folks in church I remember so well from my childhood, I'm just waiting. Not singing so cheerfully as them, but neither drowning in pure melancholy like some condemned prisoner. I'm just waiting, that's all. My life is a waiting room, and my diversions are like the outdated magazines on the end tables. I'm just waiting. For a doctor to heal me or for a principal (schoolmaster) to punish me, I can't say. The waiting is all I know. I find myself waiting for something, and I know not its nature. All I can say for certain is that it's definitely not nothing, certainly something. And like Tom Petty once sang, the waiting is the hardest part. As I find myself three years and two megabytes on the other side of a heavy day that made me realize I knew nothing at all, a day where I deleted everything and started over, I am sending my best wishes and hopes for my dear friends, Romans, robots, and strangers... As well as to the good Doctor Blog-ieo, but most of all to my universe, my dear sister, my dear parents... I'm still here, and I still love you. How could I not? I still think of you, Dad, of your example, of the truths you taught me. I think of how you were always wondering if I was okay, even those last days, always concerned for me, a true, caring, loving father until the very end. More than just a good man, but the very example of the very meaning, the very concept of what it means to be. I think of you, Momma, of how we drove each other crazy, and got on each other's nerves sometimes. But I also remember how through it all, even when I was being a total ungrateful jerk, you stuck by me, never left me, never abandoned me. I don't think I could have asked for a better mother. I think of you, dear sister, dear universe, and wonder how three years could have passed. The very inspiration for all I have written, the biggest missing part of my heart, a wonderful soul who believed in me more than I ever could. I think of you all and deeply wish I could have a second chance to maybe have been a better person to all of you, to not take for granted or given the limited time I had with you, the presence that enriched my life, or the unconditional love that means so much to me. I carry your pictures everywhere I go. They, too, surround me in my room, to remind me of what I can never forget. I carry you with me. And I don't think I'm even capable of letting go. Regret is like a punch to the face, and grief is a kick in the heart. I am still hurting, and maybe I deserve to. Otherwise, how have I been? I had a very productive weekend, made my rounds, stocked up on some good food, mowed the yard, edged around the house, washed the car, basically got everything looking as beautiful as I wish I were. I think Mom and Dad would approve of the progress I've made. Then I got to doing computer stuff. I have found YouTube to be an excellent source of info on some cool anime style games and where to find them. The same is true for Doom levels. If it looks cool, I can use my search skills and usually find them. I guess, besides being Cyber Merlin, I am also Cyber Lewis and Clark or maybe Cyber Sherlock Holmes. Can I find it? Indubitably, my dear Watson. As much as I love technology, there are a few things I find worrisome about it. About 170-something years ago in the 1850s, there was this solar flare or something similar that electrified the telegraph lines, zapped some equipment, shocked some people, and maybe set a fire or two. Still, the world ran on paper, cash, currency, and businesses kept all their records on paper. Now. Imagine if you will that happening today with ancient electrical grids, and the whole economy, commerce, and just about every damn thing running on computers. Imagine everything getting fried in an instant. Just how flarked would we be? Very. It is a scary thought indeed. Maybe it won't be a planet wide phenomenon. The unaffected hemisphere could suddenly be a technological power house. I'd hope they'd be generous, too. So how about we quit pissing off the rest of the world, just in case? Ha... The political bullshit continues. All that matters to me is my bottom line. It used to be only in election years that things got to a fever pitch. Nowadays, they never shut up. It's not donkeys or elephants that concern me. It's my own wallet, my own financial situation, my ability to cover my own bills. and not be drowning under an ocean of debt. As far as many other things, while I may have various opinions with either trunks or tails, but compared to my bottom line, they are insignificant. Then there are many things for which I frankly don't give a shit. Like I said, the hot air coming from all these mouths would be a good source of green energy. There's your solution. Oh and you are quite welcome, my dear. This world is so full of empty talking points, words without any real meaning. It can be so disheartening to see so little substance, so little realness, so little meaning below the surface or beyond the superficial. I can not be moved by echoing dogma. I can not feel words without heart. I can not accept, rationalize, or reason with words without true thought behind them. It is only noise to me, babble to exceed Babylon itself. It's just garbage in audio form. Madness without the Hatter, the hare, or the watch. Clean cup! Clean cup! Move down! I wish I could believe in friendship. Sometimes, I wish so much that I see it where it obviously does not exist. In the end, it would seem there is only me. Sometimes, all we have is our diversions, our distractions, our dreams and delusions, and..... Ourselves. Is it actually wise to be oblivious, ignorant, but happy? I get it. Not everybody is my friend. But there are times when I wonder just who is? It's not a super exclusive club. There are no detailed applications or elaborate initiations. There's no dude in a 500 dollar suit gonna go sniff sniff with an upturned nose and turn folks away. There's no Temu-Arnold bouncer going to throw anyone out. Be human, be kind, be heart and soul, that's all. Conversely, nobody should feel obligated to be in said club if they don't want to be. You won't be interrogated. This isn't Shawshank, Leavenworth, or Stallag 13. There are no prisoners here. The gate is wide open. All are free to walk away. You need not be a total jerk and treat me like the dirt under your feet. All you need to do is leave. I won't chase you. I promise. This is no joke, and neither am I. People are strange, man. Jim was right. Very, very strange. And these are strange times we live in. Strange days, indeed. they have found us. I find some of these realizations that experience has opened my eyes to, to be peculiar, to say the least. The biggest eye opener was finding out that women can be just as bad as men about certain things, and I guess vice-versa. Nothing is exclusive, neither the positive stereotypes nor the negative ones. It turns out we all own it all, the good and bad and the damn fugly. Holy freaking mackerel. I won't deny that I have the same wants, needs, and desires as most, but it's just that I long for so much more than just that. And if middle age beyond wisdom has given me any gift, it is that these days I can take or leave a lot of things. I no longer feel like I'd drop dead without it. Ever see the Dave Chapel parody of Sesame Street? Remember their version of Oscar? That's right. Bucket! If it were fatal to live without certain things, I'd be long dead by now. Bucket. I used to envy those supposed 'Chads'. Maybe I still do in some ways. After all, all that attention from the opposite sex would be most validating. Hey, hey, I'm a helluva guy, eh! But I recently learned they can also be subject to stalking and harassment (yes sexual harassment), and sometimes not even saying "Hey I'm married!" or saying, "Hey, I've got a girlfriend!" will get them to stop. Seems that men haven't cornered the market on being creeps. Once again, a check-box means nothing when it comes to the soul. Both the beautiful and the horrible can live within either gender or any other category you want to put us in. And while great sex rates right up there with fine wine, cold beer, and good food, just as it always has to me, I must say that without love to go with it, it has always left me cold, lonely, and empty. Let me just say that pretty faces, perfect boobs, and fine asses are far easier to find than a pure heart and a beautiful soul. Without a true special friend who truly loves me, heart, and soul, some things are just not worth the trouble anymore. It must be about more than just physicality, though snuggles and heartbeat lullabies are quite wonderful. Oh well, I have an idea. Let's change the subject. Clean cup move down! No mad watches were harmed in the making of this blog. I think I've finally turned a corner of sorts, hopefully for real this time. I just realized that if I never saw my special friend again, I'd be okay. I miss them even when they're here with me. It's not their fault, and I certainly don't have any bad feelings about them. It's just that I know now that I'm much happier keeping my distance. It is one of those rare times when 'It's not you, it's me' is the actual truth. The fact that it was my own damn fault does not change what I must do. Even if I must take the cowardly route of making excuses, rather than just come out and say I wanted more. I guess it's that or be a total jerk and tell the truth. And you see, I could never cause her any pain, at least without hating myself. Even if I never meant to. So, I'll just be the coward who runs away slowly enough so as not to look like I'm running away. Maybe I should go to the Wizard and ask for courage. Better yet, maybe I should move on with my life. I have been in more than just the friend zone, more than just the Gobi Desert of the friend zone. I am stranded on the Ceti Alpha V of the friend zone. And it's a bit ironic that it has been 15 years. And I don't even have the cool hair or the manly chest of Khan Noonan Singh. Damn you, Kirk! I'm either the cowardly lion or the Dollar Store Khan... Not exactly what I once envisioned myself to be. I guess some things just can't be helped. Clean cup? Move down. A few things have led me to ponder certain things. I never wanted war, never even imagined a war was coming. After a brief season of shock, I began to defend myself. Even more surprisingly, I had to defend my own children from those I never thought I would have to. I fought back and I won. That is why they hate me. They underestimated my resolve to defend myself and others. I even tried to make peace, but they mistook that gesture for weakness and for a lack of resolve. And when I proved them wrong and permanently kicked them out of my life, I became the bad guy, the son of a bitch. That is why they hate me and that is why they will always lose. The clock is ticking Silver Shamrock fans, it is almost time. I am no angel. I am far from an avenging god. I have not completely lived this life without my own blames, wrongs, sins, and mistakes to bear, especially from when I was much younger and much stupider than I am now. Believe me, they are a heavy burden. I do not speak from any pedestal of righteousness. Still it does not take a blameless angel to recognize certain things. Now, I have seen way too much death in recent years to be cynically celebrating those for whom I have absolutely no love lost. I will say there are a very few I've already grieved while they were still alive, those who have persisted in the face of my losing some of the most loved people in my life, my dearest loved ones who deserved far better than certain lowlifes ever will. While I won't be dancing on any graves, I won't be crying either. I won't be celebrating any deaths. I will only be celebrating (for the first time since losing my baby sister) that I am, in fact, still alive, myself. And I think that this will (at the very least) call for a drink. It's not revenge, maybe not even Karma. It's the chickens finally coming home to roost and the rent coming due. Rome falls. "It's time, Harvey, it's time." Helen Waite, Paging Helen Waite! "Tell em Freddy sent ya." And that, my friends, is my darker side. I really try my best not to be bitter and full of anger. I am in most circumstances, a compassionate, forgiving soul. After all, I have my own flaws. Therefore I can forgive harm done to me. I can't however forgive putting my children in dangerous circumstances as some sort of payback to me. That's where I draw the freaking line, and where certain people permanently shit their nests with me. And this I am taking to the grave. Sorry, but not sorry. Maybe I could forgive if they had sincere remorse, true regrets, and made a reasonable effort to make things right. Not with me, but with my now grown up kids. Maybe I could find it within my own heart. After all, I know well my own regrets and remorse (unrelated to this) and would definitely be moved by a genuine effort. Speaking terms will never happen, but I could most certainly forgive. But since I have not seen any of that, Like Talky Tina, I do not forgive you. Yes, this is definitely my darker side. I'm not exactly proud of it. Still, I can't really help the way I feel. I cast no stones for I am not without my own sin, but this is simply as far as I can go. I will not attend funerals for those who do not deserve my tears. And being circumstances have changed, and yet have not, I will not be forced or shamed into going. And there is where Vader speaks, my dark side.  There are many shades of Wie. Not all of them make me proud. Here you see what I rarely show. Here you shall hear much of what I hesitate to speak of elsewhere.  Do know even this is not everything, at least not overtly. I leave the rest between the lines as I always have. I am no angel, but I am no demon either. I am just one mess of a human being.