A Bit South Of The Clouds

Aside from missing enough red flags to make a Soviet military parade worthy of Stalin himself, the fault is not completely yours. Hell is not other people. Hell is just the wrong people. And... Sometimes we choose the wrong people not knowing Hell might follow. It does not mean you're dumb. Merely human. And who would I be to blame you? Emotions are just like that sometimes. I would only advise you to keep your eyes open wide enough to see even the things you don't want to see. A few painful present day truths can prevent agony later. I hope that it's real. I hope their affection is genuine. I do wish you all the happiness in the world. If anyone in this world deserves real and healing love, it is you, my friend. Just take care. Be mindful. It does not behoove the Venus Flytrap to scare away the fly. Deception is the M.O. of some plants..... And of some people. We might all do well to remember that. Never let anybody rush you into leaping before looking. In the words of a certain Star Wars admiral, It's a trap! Don't trust anything fishy. Beware of dead snapper. And you just might do fine. Otherwise there's worse places than Davey Jones' locker where not even the creature of the black lagoon would dare go. Look alive mateys, and look sharp. And now that I have gotten that offen me chest, how be ya? How about we set sail through the treacherous waters of the heavy seas and thoughts of Captain Wie! Now there be an adventure, me lads! Yarrrrr! Okay okay. Clean cup move down. Hell is a helluva thing. I have seen way too many good people go through it to think that only the wicked are afforded no rest. Hell of a thing. Whether it is a real place or not, It is indeed a state of mind no matter where you go, no matter if you make the grade or not. It is never a place one wishes to be. Even though the "Wish You Were Here" card remain a best seller in the hot hot gift shop. Speaking of Hell, damn it's hot in here! Well at least I'm not shoveling coal or breaking rocks. Not yet. Damn, it's just hot! Six in the morning, and I'm already roasting. All I need are those eleven herbs and spices, and I'd be fit for the Colonel by time this day is done. The summers are brutal. The winters are bitter. The only thing keeping the spring and fall from being absolutely perfect is that certain plants and trees hate me and show their wrath with a pollen attack. They show absolutely no mercy at all. So, either I'm roastin', freezing, or sneezing. Not exactly the garden of Eden, is it? Ah, but I still love this part of the world all the same. It's home you know, and there really is no place like home. There really is no other place I'd want to be. Even if I go directly from the oven to the deep freeze and back again every single year. Am I right? But, of course! Even when you know you're absolutely positively right, the question still remains whether it's worth stirring up a ruckus over. Sometimes yes. Sometimes no. And that's 50 percent of life's wisdom right there. Damn it's as hot as three flips and a flark today. That's one thing I'm clearly right about. Just call me Cosmic Casserole. Ding! I think it's ready. Just remember to let it cool down first. Hot! Hot! Hot! Heat hot. Not spicy hot... Not sexy hot... Although........ That's one good looking Cosmic Casserole. Quite a dish, donchya think? Okay, delusion break's over. Back on your heads. You heard the man. They don't call it hell for nothing. The heat is insane and will drive you in that particular direction, too. Not only will the heat drive you Nutso The Clown, but it'd probably melt his makeup too. Nutso The Clown is crazy enough to be out in this heat. Homey The Clown, however, is not. I have it from good sources that Homey don't play that. Okay. Clean cup move down. Most of us understand that our behavior can make a big difference in how people respond to us. Certain things can make us loved a little less. And while our behavior is one of those things well within our own control, there are other things beyond our control that can still (you guessed it) make us loved a little less. While it's only right to be treated like an ass for behaving like an ass... These other things are not fair at all. The beauty of a soul should stand out and stand alone to be judged. But we don't judge the soul alone, but by the container that confines it. And that is not fair at all. Look in any direction. You will find beauty. You will find ugliness. You will find kindness. You will find cruelty. Has anyone ever seen the soul? What does it look like? I'm not religious, but I know well the story of the most beautiful of all the angels, the brightest of all the stars. Ah, Lucifer. Better known these days as the devil. Why am I saying this? Hell, if I know. Oh, well. No words of this mere being are going to change anything. I can write what I see and how I feel. I can't really do much more than that. I am no one special, though sometimes I would like to be. How would it feel to be treasured to be precious to someone? Ah, to be loved in such a way. What would it feel like? I will never know. Not by the mold that cast me. Not by the role assigned me. Not by the container that confines me. It is not in the cards for me to be precious. And though I have tried again and again to break free, there is no escaping this fate. To be loved just a little bit less. For want of a nail, for a roll of the dice, for random chance, go I. There could be parallel universes, levels 1, 2, and 3, where the dice fell differently. But it is only this world that I know, only this universe, only this life. Wondering about what could have been is a one-way highway to the nuthouse. You know... The place that I'm trying to avoid, though I would imagine the drugs are strong and the people are kind. Drawing and coloring sound nice, and three square meals that I don't have to worry about getting together sounds almost heavenly. Still, I have a role to play in this mad world of the sane, though what that entails escapes me. Besides an obvious future of paying bills until I die, I can't even define it. I get up. I get half awake, clean, dressed, presentable, then I go to work. I rock and roll and roast, then I go home. I escape into my computer for a while, eat something, and go to bed. Wash, rinse, and repeat. I spend a good deal of the weekend taking care of these yards that once belonged to my parents. It is the only way I can be with them now that they're gone. That's life for now. This is the way it's going to be. There really is no breaking free from such a life. There is so much set in stone. It's like a train on tracks. I can't exactly change course, can I? Could I have earlier? I doubt it. And believe me, I tried. Either way, it is too late now, much too late. There are still those who would sell us an illusion of eternity. But, look around. See the universe. See the entropy, the birth and the death of stars. See what is spelled out so clearly in the cosmos. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing good. Nothing bad. In dark emptiness, even the universe will end. The last atom will come apart. The last proton will dissolve. In a dark void where nothing changes anymore, not even time could exist. Indeed, this will be the end of time so often referred to in love songs. It ends not with a bang, but in the darkest silence. Nothing else will last forever except for maybe oblivion. And oblivion can never hurt us. There may be no laughter or joy, not even a sense of self. But neither will there be any more pain. Oblivion is nothing more than the peace of nothingness. If I can't have heaven, If I can't have my loved ones back, Oblivia and her loving embrace shall save me. Until then, I shall continue living the Robert Frost way.... Miles to go before I sleep. I will do what I can to be with the people I love, even when I can't. This is what is left for me now. This, and a bit of time. That's all. I may not see you on the other side, but we shall all be adrift together someday. It's not about what I believe, but what I don't believe. I have no firm beliefs in what is. I just have several about what it isn't. If I was hoping to make friends, this is probably not helping. Still, I can't tell lies, here. Just because I would like to believe in certain beautiful stories, does not mean that I can. It's not a choice when one simply can't. I can't forget what I've seen. I can't forget what I've learned. I can't go back to the bliss of ignorance or to the purity of innocence, though I honestly wish I could. Some doorways and gateways can not be exited once entered. Such is the tree of life and knowledge. You can't just spit out the apple and pretend all was as before. And no matter what you do, everything changes. There is just no going back. There is no bringing back that which is lost. The here and the now is all there is left. Either one moves forward or they stay put and slowly disintegrate. That's not much of a choice, is it? It is far better to keep going until we drop. At least, we may have gotten somewhere by then. Miles to go, remember? They say tomorrow's a new day, even though I have seen so many days be a carbon copy of the previous one. But they say that there will come a day when things change. For the better? For the worse? Crystal balls aren't exactly my thing. Change is coming. May it not suck like the previous ones. Let's not involve the grim reaper this time. I am so sick of death. I've seen more than enough of it in these crappy 2020s. No more death. No more sickness. No more suffering. No more pain. I am tired of losing the people that I love. Though I know I should be glad I had them back then. I credit them all for my still being here. What was I to do otherwise? Still..... My life has no comparison to a couple decades ago. I should remind myself every time I complain. The only thing I should lament about the present day is for the people I can no longer share it with. If I could have them all back, it would be damn near utopia. Two of them gave me life. All of them saved my life. With the exception of one, they're no longer here, but I can assure you that it is because of them that I still am. Never doubt the importance of family. How would I have made it without them? Those were the times I felt they were the only people in the world who truly loved me. They were the ones who saved me and gave me the strength to save myself. There was a time I had lost all my will, a time when it seemed my whole world was falling apart. I indeed lived in darkness. Imagine working crazy hours, Imagine running as hard as you can, living on the edge of exhaustion and it still never being good enough. Imagine being portrayed as someone you never were, of being belittled and berated, of being called lazy and worthless, of always being the bad guy, no matter what you did. I was in hell. Then I was thrown away when enough of the life and will had been drained from my soul. My hell of the past was being used, mistreated, taken advantage of, and viciously slandered to add insult to injury. Some people have no shame at all. A crappy person will never take responsibility for their crappy behavior. It will always be someone else's fault. Never theirs, no, no, no. Most likely, they'll blame you. But no matter how they paint you, the truth is never far away, and it doesn't take much water under the bridge to wash that paint away. Unlike certain celebrities, it will eventually come out. (drum roll please) Remember, friends, while examining any gate, no matter how pearly, no matter how golden, be certain of where it leads. Could be Heaven. Could be points south. Take it from someone who found out the hard way.I have lived much and I have seen much. I have dealt with many situations I never saw coming. It does not mean I deserve some sort of medal. Courage and strength have nothing to do with having no other choice. As that little green Muppet said, either you do, or you do not. I wasn't necessarily strong. I wasn't necessarily brave. I simply made myself do what needed to be done. I think that I have earned just a bit of peace. These days, all I want is my own bit of spacetime. Give me my escapist hobbies too. Just let me lose myself in them. Give me my 30 percent worthwhile living, and I will be okay dealing with the 70 percent bullshit. Please give me my fleeting moments of contentment. These days, they're all I have. The importance of peace in my life has grown immensely with every year. Peace has a price, but sometimes it's worth it. Sometimes you need to move the goalposts if you want to be happy. There is nothing wrong with having high standards. It's only the impossible standards that cause us pain. And really, they would be all I really needed had I not dared to dream. Still, I can live with the status quo. It's all I've been doing for a long time now.  As far as for being decent human beings, some people set the bar so low, not even Barbados Slim could limbo under it. (Anyone else love Futurama?) Even the assholes who film themselves feeding the homeless just jerk their own chain "Hey look what I did!" are better by comparison. Of course those who quietly and compassionately help someone will always be light years ahead. Ah, but I'm rambling, aren't I? I keep writing in such a way as to be giving advice to a friend. But, what friends? I don't think I have any. Sure there's people I know, some if them I even personally like, but friends? I think that might be taking it a bit too far. I guess I might count my special friend, but my feelings for her would probably not be good for the friendship. Just because I have accepted that romance is impossible, does not mean I've been able to change my feelings. Rational or not, I love my special friend. I don't see that changing anytime soon. It's my fault and I have to live with it, but that does not mean I should make things worse by hanging around any more than necessary. Holding back love is a hell of its own. So yeah... I really don't have any friends. Maybe this advice is meant for an earlier version of myself. Would I have listened? Probably not. I was every bit as stubborn back then as I am now. Or are these still my letters to the universe? In a way, yes. There is nothing in here I would have not confided to her. She knew me better than most. But it is just not the same and hasn't been since I began. Or is this still my trying to sort out these heavy thoughts? If so I doubt I ever will... If three years and two megabytes were not enough, nothing ever will be. Or maybe in the end, it is only the good Doctor Blog-ieo who is my friend. If a friend is someone to talk to, someone to tell everything, then he would certainly qualify. And it would seem of late, these writings, this cheap therapy, is the only friend I've got. It sure gets lonely, but who would want to hear me whine? I can't be burdening others with my problems. In a world like this one, I'm sure they have their own. And on that cheerful (ironically speaking) thought, I think the time is past due for a lovely subject change. Clean cup move down. How about that?  So, that's the story, ladies and gentlemen. It really has no ending, not so long as I am able to write. Endings and beginnings can be one and the same, but this seems to be a constant middle. There is no end until my own. Still, I think I shall leave off about here for now. Love to the lonely. Love to the needy. Compassion, caring, empathy.... That is my wish. That is my hope. I can't guess what it will all mean in the end if anything at all, but here it is and here I am.. Until next time.....

A Dark Maze Of Heavy Thoughts

Friends, I have seen angels, and I've seen demons. Not the literal kind (that I know of) but enough of the figurative to feel I have seen just about as anything as a mortal soul possibly can. Please don't quote me on this, Dear Universe, For I have seen at least as much as I'd ever want to see, if still not everything. Either way, it's been quite enough, thank you. do not know the age of my soul like I know the age of this human being, but I am tired. I need healing, love, and I need peace. I want to know we're all going to be okay. Maybe that seems silly and childlike. Maybe indeed, for this feeling has been with me for decades, since I actually was one. I honestly don't know much except how I feel. My thoughts are full of the ghosts of memory. I'm a walking haunted house here. They're not mean. They're not scary. The only way they (inadvertently) hurt me is by being ghosts at all. And that was never their intention. It is not even them, but afterimages, really, ever in view for I can not let go, nor can I accept the empty space before me. I find myself like Jethro Tull, living in the past. It is the sweetest dream with the harshest wake up. I call now the future, for the presence of the present is often difficult to accept. I know what reality is. I just sometimes refuse to live in it. With imagination worthy of my childhood, I would like to believe that 1985 still exists somewhere in the cosmos, a deep dream of deep space, a slight bend in time away. Ah the mind, the place where good ideas originate. Oh, and also bad ideas, but let's not be negative, shall we? The great adventure. Yes, yes, I am on a great adventure indeed, but it's all in my head. It's all in my head, but hey! It's a great adventure. Who's with me? By Jove, I think we've got it! Look alive there, party of one! Cheerios and Post Toasties! Isn't reality boring? Isn't reality disappointing? Isn't it lonely? Does it not always fall short of that dream of peace, tranquility, love, and belonging? Ah, Wonderland, where have you gone? Where have you left me? There once was a dream where all the nonsense was actually fun, where all the madness brought genuine wholesome laughter. Not anymore. The fun and the laughter has up and disappeared like the Chesshire Cat. Ah, but the nonsense and madness remain. Sadly, not the light and silly type. It is darker than the haunted forest, and I'd turn back if I could. Like I said, nothing is ever only in your mind. If it's in your mind, then as for you, it's everywhere. There are two worlds we deal with, one within and one without. Each affects the other. The difference is that the people around you can only see one of those worlds, and not even the entirety of the one. Nobody knows you better than the human being in the mirror. Even self knowledge and awareness can be a struggle. So, we can't really blame others when they don't understand. They can't. I do have a fondness in my heart for those who try anyway. Try to show those people love when you can. It hurts to miss them. The silence at the end of the day speaks volumes. Were the wizard's words to the Tin Man correct? Is a heart more accurately judged not by how much we love but how much we are loved by others? I don't much know anything, but that seems a bit harsh. Ah, but not quite as harsh as Dorothy telling the Scarecrow, "I'll miss you most of all" in front of EVERYBODY ELSE. Geesh, young lady. Way to hurt the poor Lion and Tin Man's feelings. Even the wicked witch of the east and west would say daaaamn. "And she stole my shoes, too!" It's another day.. A hot day. AC is not a priority at my workplace. I used to work in surveying, which is an outdoor job. But at least back then, we had the luxury of getting rained out now and again. Not so in a textile plant... I'm roasting like a chicken. All I need now is those 11 herbs and spices, then I can report to the Colonel. Well, the day! Summer is here, and it's going to be a long one. No AC at work, none at home because 400 dollar electric bills aren't my cup o tea. Not on this pay. So, the only time I get AC is in my car. Ah, please hold out for another year. Usually, it quits working after I've owned a vehicle this long. I've still got more than two years of payments left, so hold on, baby, hold on. Please continue being the highlight of my day. Well, talking to a certain someone is the real highlight of my day. I know I'm getting absolutely nowhere. Still, their presence makes me happy. There are some folks I don't agree with, though I love them all the same. So, I have to tread carefully to give my honest opinion in a kind and tactful way. Ah, but it's not easy. I don't believe in psychic psychosis for I have my own delusions. Thank you. I am of the personal belief that talents of a psychic fall more in line with careful observation and a very good understanding of human nature. We're complicated creatures in many ways, ah, but in some.... We're quite simple. They're not reading minds. They're reading between the lines. And many are quite good at what they do. But yeah... Save your money for better things. If you must insist on spending your money, bring it to the all-knowing Cosmic Wie. Ooooooh! And I'll give you a reading far better than most. Your guy is a jerk, but I see a dashing fortune teller space cadet in your future. Major Wie to ground control, do you copy, over? In case you were wondering, I was talking about my special friend again. Sometimes, I wonder: Should I cosplay as Professor Marvel from The Wizard of Oz? Just let me put on my turban and gaze into my crystal ball. Yes, I see it clearly, my friend. Cosmic Wie is the one you want. Who is that? Why, I am Wie! Let me show you a wonderful future. Ah... Goodness. My daydreams do get elaborate sometimes. Although it must be stated that said daydreams totally suck at predicting the future. Bummer, dude! Clean Cup, move down! Damn it's hot! How hot is it? It's so hot that when a certain place hired the devil, he quit after a half day to go home and cool down. As he walked out the door, I heard him say, "Hell, ain't it?" Yep. It's going to be a long summer. It's going to be a long day, too. It's been a crazy couple of days and nothing quite brings out my grouchy side like being late to lunch because I just didn't have the time. I've gotta have my food, dude. The hectic pace distracts me from my heavy thoughts, but it has its own downside. Too much time to think, not enough time to think.... It's never the middle ground. Ah, but now that I am no longer monster hungry, maybe I can deal. Subject change? Clean cup move down? Last night, I made demos for the first three levels of "Duke It Out In DC." The first two went well, but I'm thinking about redoing the third. It took me way too long to find all the damn keys. Also, that tedious annoying switch puzzle in DC level two sucks. It's not as bad as the stupid platforming in Duke Caribbean level 5, but it's close. Bullshit like that, totally takes the fun out of gaming, in my humble opinion. If I wanted to be frustrated and agrievated, I would deal with the real world. Games should be fun. And that was no fun at all, just annoying. I could see puzzles like that for secrets maybe, but never for level progression. What the hell were the developers thinking? It's stupid! Okay, rant over, clean cup move down. My oldest starts a new job tomorrow. I hope it goes well for him. No job will ever be perfect, you know. I don't think they'd pay us if it were fun. It's a fact of like that we've all gotta do what we've gotta do. Choices, especially a wide array, are only for rich people. The rest of us have to get below and row the boat. It's life, man, just the way it is. It does not mean we have to like it. It does not mean we can't wish it were different. Ah, but we've all got to deal with it. Also, there is a quota. Every place has at least one jerkwad. Many places have more than one. We can't let that stop us from making a living. You gotta do what you've gotta do. Options are for the spoiled rich kids only. They are sadly beyond the reach of the rest of us. I didn't make the world or the rules. I've just got to deal with it like everyone else. It's just the way. And I don't like it any more than you do. It's kind of a depressing pep talk, isn't it? Yeah, it seems to be. I tend to deliver more truth than inspiration. I do my best to lead by example. I may not be Energizer, but I'm still going. Sometimes, I really have to wonder. I know I talk about this a lot, but the here and now just doesn't seem right to me, not right at all with so many gone. Yes, it's the circle of life. Yes, I was lucky to have my parents as long as I did, but could I have kept them a few years longer? As for losing Marsha when she was only 40, that was bullshit. The youngest is supposed to outlive the oldest. Not the other way around. That was not the circle of life. It was a terrible tragedy and an undeserved fate. Of all the souls I have ever met, she deserved a much longer, happier, and meaningful presence in this world. Fate is so damned arbitrary. It just grabs people at random, regardless of how much they are needed in this world, regardless of how much I still need them in my life. Yet, here I am at the wheel of the ship, no longer the first officer but captain. Yet I did not choose this. It is quite the weight on my shoulders and a burden upon my soul. Yet, who else is going to steer this damn thing? With every decision I make, with every direction I choose, I ask myself, What would my father do? In many matters, I have a good idea of what his choice would be. With others, I have to look into my own soul and just hope I'm doing the right thing. It's mostly been small things, but every now and then, it gets a bit heavy. There's nothing to do but stay the course and steer by that particular north star. In this, may we all find our way. Okay. Subject change. Clean cup move down. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that my thoughts and therefore my writings here take on such heaviness. It's Doctor Blog-ieo, after all. I really have nobody I can talk to, at least not in the frank way I write. Diplomacy and politics aren't just for governments. We human beings engage in those sort of things all the time. It is the way we navigate an uncertain world. I prefer being a straight shooter. I prefer to be honest with my feelings. Sadly, they do not always fit a perfect image or a pretty picture. A heavy lesson that I wish I had grasped decades ago is that appearance and perception can be more important than reality. When one is perceived as not having it all together, opportunities disappear. There is truth in faking it until you make it. You've got to project confidence and certainty. It becomes true when you make it true. It's writing a big check and hoping you will have the funds gathered to keep it from bouncing all over the place. You've got to take that leap if you ever want to succeed. It's not enough to have the strength or intelligence to make it. You have to also believe you can. It sounds cliche as hell, but it's true. And that's why I can't really open up anywhere but here. Social media gets a censored version, but I share very little there. Such places in cyberland have gotten more and more disingenuous over the years, anyway. Honesty rarely makes the grade there. A crude but accurate observation is that most people on there are totally full of shit. They only show their fortunes, financial and relationship wise. Nice houses, nice cars, wonderful vacations, and falling in love with their 'best friend'. One never sees the ugliness behind the scenes. It's like we're all actors putting on one big show. And the show must go on. Rarely is everything so picture perfect. How often do we see original thoughts or genuine expression? Very rarely. And seems that keeping it real is no way to win friends or have any influence. So much there is recycled, regurgitated, copy-pasted, mindlessly repeated again and again. It's like a dog chasing its own tail. It just goes around in circles. I used to believe it would be this sort of utopia with people sharing their true feelings, exchanging ideas, a meeting of hearts and minds. Now, see the degree to which it has devolved. See the depths to which it has fallen. What the hell is this? I don't even recognize it anymore. It hurts the heart and boggles the mind to see such a wonderful opportunity for enrichment, this chance for enlightenment to be thrown away so stupidly. It's just one reason of many why the 2020s suck. It seems that everything went to shit when Hurricane Michael hit my area in 2018 and has only gotten worse. 2018 was the year of hurricanes, lawsuits, and broken bones. Late 2018 and beyond 2019, my Dad had to fight a long battle against cancer and almost as bad the results of the treatment and the surgery as well. I remember him asking me to promise I'd honor and back up any decisions / promises he made, which I did years later. He won the fight against cancer in the end, though by the time we got that good news, it hardly mattered. 2020 was the year of all that pandemic insanity. The censorship got so bad that you had to get around certain keywords to keep bots out of your social media posts. It was all out propaganda in my strong personal opinion. The strength of my opinion is the very premise of this blog, the very fact I'm writing letters to the universe instead of talking to my baby sister on the phone. But before that, 2021 saw my mother's health take a serious downturn. My sisters and I tried our absolute best, but in the end, not even our efforts, nor the help of the kids was enough to keep her out of a nursing home. Try, though we did. I was also going through some very stressful drama with a certain someone picking the worst time of all to show out. Maybe it was proper punishment for the crappy way I behaved towards my own parents as a teenager. It certainly showed me how they must have felt, though even I did not take it to such extremes. I won't go into detail, but basically, at that point, my life was hell. I thought I was at the lowest level, but it turns out the down elevator was waiting for me. 2022 marked the descent into the lowest levels of Hell I have ever been in my life. My baby sister followed all the rules and towed the government line when it came to all this pandemic insanity. She got all the vaccines, wore the masks, everything. Then along came the goddamn omicron. Vaccinated or not, everybody got that one, or at least everybody I knew, including myself. My father was hospitalized with it. It was the very day I picked him up from the hospital that my baby sister had gotten down really badly with it. My elderly father survived it. My baby sister did not. I can not express in words alone the impact and effect losing her has left on me. I threw one major fit when I went back to work. They were still pushing all that mask bullshit and masks did not save my sister. Vaccines did not save my sister. I don't give a damn about anybody's politics, but I can be just a bit touchy when someone brings that shit up. All that nonsense, yet Marsha is gone. I'm a nice guy, but if anybody were to try and force that on me again, they'd probably get clocked. Two months later, my mother's struggles ended as well. It was only March, and I had already lost my baby sister and my mother. As you would imagine, my father was going through an even worse time than me. He lost his daughter and his wife, a soul mate, his companion of 52 years. Then he fell and broke his leg in two places. He had a damn miserable father's day that year, in the hospital, could not even grieve in his own home. That had to be horrible for him. Slowly, he recovered, but he was still dealing with a lot of health issues, complications from his surgery, and his cancer treatments. I am really paranoid about letting any doctor operate on my guts. You're just never right again when they do that. My father was in a lot of pain. The doctors had him on so much pain medicine, I am surprised he even knew he was in this world. Some days, he was okay. Other days, not so much. Thanks to the help of my middle son, my father got to spend the rest of his life in his own home. I wish we could have done the same for Momma, but there were major differences in their conditions. I lost my father almost exactly 11 months ago. Both we two remaining children, and all of his grandchildren were there. My boys kept asking what they should do, and the only thing I could say was to show him love. Since then, I've been trying to understand, trying to sort things out in my head. Out of a family of five, only two remain: My sister and I. That's it. That's all. Even this being reality is hard to wrap my mind around. So yeah... This is my full explanation of exactly how and the way the 2020s so far is one crappy decade. I've seen good times, and I've seen bad times. But at least back then, I had them to talk to, to help me through. Not so much anymore. The 2020s objectively suck by any real measure. There are very few things worse than death. In some circumstances it may be a mercy from suffering and pain, but you can never convince me that it's not one of the most horrible things of all things that are guaranteed to happen to us all. A difficult fate, also, is to be the one left behind. To be a survivor does not always feel like a good thing. There is guilt sometimes, and the guilt remains. I know I should excuse the ignorance of my youth, but I can't quite bring myself to do so. One might think that being your own judge would mean to judge with leniency, but it's not so. In reality, being your own judge is to rule harshly and sentence oneself to a lifetime of punishment. Beware Judge Wie and his stern countenance, and that glare from the bench, contemptuous and disgusted at my request to please forgive me for I didn't know. You damn sure should have known. How blind can you be? Round and round in this dark maze we go, our words echoing, and the words change nothing. Instead of the pixelated monsters in Doom, these are the demons I can never kill. They live forever in these catacombs. I can never escape them. Yet the world goes on, and I have to go on. I have the present and future to attend to. I must do my best to do right by the here and the now, even with a monster or two chewing on my soul. Figuratively speaking, of course. I may be going down in madness, but I'm not quite that far gone. Not yet. Nobody ever sees this internal struggle. People like me tend to become great actors, playing the role of a lifetime, that all around awesome character known as Mr Ms I'll be fine. The main people I would confide in about things like this are gone. It's only the monsters, the maze, and me now, the darkness within that can never see the light of day. But I'd like to think there's light, too. Maybe this is meaningless being from my own point of view, but I'd like to believe I'm a good person, one with a heart, someone who truly aims to do the right thing. When I love, I do so with everything I've got. There are no half measures in that aspect. I work. I pull my own weight. I expect nothing to be given to me, yet I am most grateful for all I have been given. I try my best to see things from the point of view of others. Yes, I am one flawed mess of a human being, but I would like to think my heart is in the right place. Good intentions pave the road to Hell, don't they? If so, then I have built the devil his very own interstate. Pay special note to Exit 666. When they tell you to go to hell, remember to ask for directions. Just head south until you see the brimstone. Hell is more than a place. It can be a state of mind. You don't even have to die to go there. Sometimes, all you need to do is look around to see you've already arrived. Either way, it is not a very good place to be. They don't call it hell for nothing. It's not like the album covers, dude. 

Universal Sibling

Hello, Universe. 

It's me again. I woke up missing you as always. It's only me, sibling of the universe, child of the cosmos, the very humbled Cosmic Wie. A fancy name barely a shield for, indeed, those who look can still see the imperfect human being behind the curtain. Sometimes, I feel nobody knows me. Sometimes, I feel everyone sees right through me. Ah, but with no real degree of certainty, except that I am here and this is now. Beyond the obvious, I truly know nothing anymore. Ah, the circle of life. At first, one knows everything. Then one learns. And what one learns is that one never knew anything at all. And that is where wisdom begins. What they don't tell you about wisdom is that it can feel like a punch to the gut and a kick in the ass. Ah, but how are things going otherwise? Hmmmmm. I'm not sure just how obliviously out cold I was this morning, but it took eight minutes of loud beeping for the alarm to wake me. To paraphrase the good Doctor Frankenstein, "IT'S ALIVE!" (Though I could have done better with a few more zaps) When are they going to invent that human charger? Turn the voltage up, Igor!" "Yes, Great One! I'll do your bidding!" (loud electrical arcing ensues) Ah, much better! Geesh! Is something burning? In my best Bruce Springsteen voice, "Woah oh oh, I'm on fire." How can he be so calm about it? Not me, buddy. Given the choice, any other fate would be better. Not good, pal, not good at all. I can see that maybe I'm not quite awake yet. My rambling is more ramble than usual. My jumble is more jumbled. My chaos is more chaotic. In other words, ladies and gentlemen, friends, Romans, robots, and strangers, I am just not ready for this day. Ugh! Oog! Aag! Ooga booga unga bunga, Ogg no wanna. Regardless, the day's ready and refuses to wait on the likes of little 'ol' me. I actually did good yesterday. I got the lawn, the laundry, and the bills done. I even made some cool demos of Duke Nukem Caribbean and 1999 using that save feature I found last week. And then, around 7:00 last night, I fell into the deepest sleep I've had in a while and didn't wake up until time to get ready for work this morning. Ah, hibernation at it finest. I would make Da Bears proud. Still, I feel that ten hours of oblivion was not quite enough. A few more hours would have been superb. I spent my father's day working in the yard. It's the only way to be with him these days. If that means I'm crazy, then ladies and gentlemen, I have earned my insanity quite well. "I can't imagine my life without you" can have two reasons: The first is literally not being able to while you're still here. The second is living in that reality you couldn't imagine before. I can't imagine a world, where the birds still sing, where the sun still rises, where the bills still roll in, where people go on about things like they always have, and where I am expected to function as I always have. I can't imagine it. But here the world is, devoid of you. And then you realize that the struggle was never imagination at all, but acceptance. And Friends, Romans, Robots, and Strangers: I regret to report that I'm just not there yet. I am at least happy with what I accomplished yesterday. My hopes were not all that high Saturday. The sound of the rain and the rumbling of thunder was making me quite lazy. Thoughts of a Father's Day without my own father were making me feel not so inspired to get out of bed. Ah, but yesterday, actual Father's Day, I got up early and got everything I needed to do done. Like I said, it's the only way to spend that day with my father anymore. Next month, July 21st, will make a year he's been gone. I can't believe it has already been that long. Memories seem a bit too fresh for it to have already been a year. While there seems to still be solid ground beneath my feet, I have to wonder. There is the quicksand of dreams that tell me far more than is generally known without. It shows a hidden reality within, far beneath the calm surface of lucidity, unbound by reason, thoughts can go anywhere. And do you know what they reveal? They show in stark display the difference between the persona and the person, that we're not as okay as we pretend to be. And while the image and the projection are far closer to perfection than we could ever reach, images and reflections lack the heart and soul and realness of an imperfect human being. One can be infatuated with an image, but real love needs realness, and that is a human thing. Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain. I am the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz. In truth, everybody's fighting their own war. Grief leaves no life untouched, no heart unbroken. I know I am not the only one, even though it feels that way sometimes. It's nobody's fault. It's just the way of the human heart. We can be all together in our feelings, yet there are things we must face alone. It's just the way of heart and soul. Axl Rose was wrong. We don't necessarily come into this world alone. My loving parents were there. We don't necessarily leave this world alone, either. We were all there, showing our love. It was the hardest thing I ever faced, but I do not regret it. I would hope there will be those there for me when it comes my time. We don't arrive alone. We don't depart alone. But we do leave people behind. And that's the most difficult thing of all. I am not the only one who lost loving parents or a baby sister who believed in me. I know this. It still doesn't make me feel any better. Okay, Enough! Subject change! Ribbit-ribbit Subject change! Behold, The Frog's Lament! It's not that easy bein' green. Ribbit-ribbit, frog sad. Ribbit-Ribbit, I guess I'll go back to my pad.. Ribbit! Lilly pad, that is, Ribbit-ribbit! Nice frogs finish last... Why do all the wrong frogs escape the frog zone? Bad frog! Wrong frog! Ribbit fix me, said the wrong frog. But Ribbit-ribbit, you must make all the effort because Ribbit-ribbit lazy frog, Ribbit-ribbit selfish frog. Yep. Sad frog sees it all from the distance of the swamp zone. You lament how all fogs bad, but Ribbit-ribbit, you picked the wrong frog yesterday. You picked the wrong frog today, and you'll pick the wrong frog tomorrow. Ribbit-ribbit that does it! Next time, you can retrieve that golden ball from the well yourself, Ribbit-ribbit! [hops away] Damn it! They say you can pick your friends, but not your kin... And not who you happen to fall in love with either... Well, as far as for kin, I got awesomely lucky to have had the family I did. I'm not so lucky in love, though. Nope, not at all. How did Lindsey Buckingham's lyrics go? "If I could, baby, I'd give you my world. How can I when you won't take it from me?" Ah, I'd dedicate the first verse to my special friend. The second one goes out to the ex. Nope. The Great Cosmic Wie has never once been lucky in love. It's the same old lament. The Frog's Lament. Ribbit stop, ribbit stop! Why can't you see? Oh, well. It is high time to focus on other things. Obviously, romance is off the table. Ribbit, damn it! Ribbit, damn it! So goes the fortune of frogs. Even Kermit couldn't do better than a Ms Piggy. Yep, it's not easy being green at all. Though I guess I the human am mostly green with jealousy. Envy is one of those seven deadly sins, right? But I wouldn't be so damn jealous if she was being treated right. Ah, but it's none of my business. She picked that frog and not this one, Ribbit-ribbit! So goes the fate of mice and men.... And frogs, Ribbit-ribbit! I do believe it is time for another one of my famous subject changes. Clean cup move down! No more getting froggy. Even if I'm monster movie foggy! That's von, two, three, ah ah ahhhh! Vat do you mean I don't count? I am The Count, Ah Ah Ahhh! Two point one megabytes, ah ah Ahhh! Hey, what did Bill O'Reilly say when asked to do a show in Thailand? Phucket! We'll do it live! Wocka wocka wocka! I can see Fozzie Bear glaring at me with disapproval. Well, it's another Mourn day. Bummer, dude. At least I slept well. It makes all the bullshit tolerable. Well, mostly. Life is 70% bullshit and 30% worthwhile endeavors. We've gotta grind through the 70 to get to the 30. Well, my 30 is over. Back to the 70. Or as the demon down in hell in charge of the room waste deep in (you know what) said, "Coffee break's over, back on your heads!" Then the devil looked over at me and said, "Hell, ain't it?" My sense of humor can best be summarized by this scene from "Heavy Metal" with this Ben Stein-ish style scientist, droning on before congress about there being no proof of extraterrestrial life, juxtaposed by a scene outside with a gigantic spaceship hovering over the capital building. Oh, and also how the Crips approved of Jimmy and Timmy bringing marshmallows and ginger ale. "Yeah, and they got us marshmallows and ginger ale." will have me in hysterics no matter how many times I watch that episode. Then there's that episode of Pinky and The Brain with the Beatles and Yoko. George: "She's terrible!" Paul: "She's horrible!" Ringo: "She can't sing!" John: "I LOVE HER!" Then the two walk off together, hearts all around. Eeee Yaw Eeee Yaw Eeeeeeee! Now it's Tuesday, also known as Monday Part 2: The Revenge. "Nothing this evil ever dies." Coming soon to a workplace near you. You know? I don't always Chi Chi Chi. But when I do, I ah, ah, ah. Ah, but Friday the 13th was last week. Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers never say a word. Freddy, Pinhead, and Ghostface? Now, they know how to trash talk. Especially Freddy. He is the king of trash talk. He also doesn't give a flark what Zsa Zsa Gabor thinks. Damn. Doesn't it seem we're like George Jetson caught in this crazy thing, poor Superman caught in a revolving door? Civilization is a great thing. It sure beats chaos and disorder. Ah, but it's a machine we get caught up in, despite being the lesser of two evils. Welcome to Earth. Now, get to work! Life is a mess. For the meticulously organized minds out there, it's a damn tragedy. We would love to have things in perfect order, A to Z. But it's impossible. We want it neat, orderly, and to make some kind of logical sense. It never will. As much as we want it to be that way, It'll never happen. The universe will always be chaotic and entropic. It'll never be the way we want it to be. We'll never be the way we wish to be. Life is a mess, and so are we. It is a difficult thing to accept. There are a lot of imperfections, a lot of loose threads I'd love to fix, but I can't. All too often, there are no second chances in this life. Some challenges happen before we are ready before we had acquired the necessary knowledge, wisdom, and maturity. The tests came, and sometimes we failed. Only later came the lessons and the wisdom. Only later did we truly grow up. I know we shouldn't so harshly blame ourselves for not knowing better, for not realizing in a time before we truly understood. Ah, but we do, don't we? For we fans of logic, reason, and sense, it is an underlying heartache that never truly goes away. It is a life sentence of lamentation, remorse, and regret. Nobody has a closet free of skeletons. Me, I sometimes feel I have the whole army of darkness in there. Where's Ash when you need him? Hail to the king, baby. If only life were like my computer games with the ability to save the state. I would make sure everything was right. Anything wrong, I would go back and fix. I would apply a half century of wisdom instead of being young and stupid. All my i's would be dotted, and every T would be crossed. Nothing would be out of place. Every regret would be erased. When one plays back the demo of my life, not one mistake would show. I would do things right the first time, every time. How wonderful it would be! Imagine the peace and tranquility that would be in my heart. Imagine these burdens not being on my soul. Imagine being for all time, past, present, and future, the person I should have been all along. If the Good Lord can't offer me this, then there simply is no such thing as Heaven. I would rather be rescued by the loving arms of Oblivia, forgetting for all eternity that I ever existed. That may well be the only true peace that will ever be, the bliss of eternal ignorance. It wouldn't be ideal, but it would be mercy. Okay. It seems my thoughts have gotten heavy again. Let's try for a subject change, shall we? Clean cup move down! No room? Sure, there's always room! Room in the giant mushroom. Kidding! Though they sure seemed to help Mario.... And... Timothy Leary. It does not surprise me that if you send Tommy Chong to fetch a doctor, it would be Doctor Timothy Leary he'd bring back. Are you sure you want the key? Are you sure you want to be free? Yeah... I am messed up enough without drugs. I sure as hell don't want to make things worse. I am totally out of my mind, and I never paid a dime. My messed uppedness never required any chemical enhancement. If life's a trip, then I am already on it and have been so since my birth. And, in the words of Jerry Garcia, what a long, strange trip it's been. It is a fun house ride that will shatter the sanity of any reasonable mind. And I wasn't all that reasonable to begin with. Minds tend to move. Sometimes, they never come back. The trip goes on, and sometimes I'm not even sure where (or when) I am anymore. Minds move, the world turns, and people leave all the time. The only constant is me, but not really, as it seems I've been going through changes, in a constant flux to where not even I know exactly who I am anymore. You could say I had to go a little crazy to keep my sanity, counterintuitive, though that might seem. I needed to find a reason to live, the motivation to face each day. And I was already going through a very dark time even before all hell broke loose in 2022. I needed to mentally upend the table, at least in my own mind. It was the only way to stay functional, to keep going when things otherwise seemed so pointless, so hopeless. I can never explain to others what I can not fully understand, myself. You see, I have spent a long time trying to figure out just who I am. Losing three of my loved ones in these last few years have not helped matters, to say the very least. I have gone through so many changes that I can no longer keep up with my own definition. I bet it would sting to have a Lion King style vision where my father appeared and said to me that I had forgotten who I am and have therefore forgotten him. But that's not true. My father was the man I tried so hard to be, but I am not him. We had many things in common, but I am a different person. Not a better person, only me. And I own this train wreck of my life. I well remember things he tried to tell me, but I wouldn't listen back then. He did the absolute best he could by me. My screw ups are mine, not his. I own the blame for my own mistakes. I had good loving parents. Granted, I didn't get on drugs or get in trouble with the law. I generally think of myself as a decent human being and an okay father to my own children. I didn't become an axe wielding clown faced psychopathic serial killer. I'd like to think I'm a good person. Still, for me, that's just not good enough. I will never blame them. My imperfections are my own doing. My mistakes, my duck ups, and stupid decisions are my own damn fault and not theirs. I was not an easy kid to raise. I didn't come with a manual either. I had wonderful parents who truly loved me, did so much for me, went above and beyond for me. I would hope they would like the person I have become, that all the knowledge and wisdom they imparted was not a waste of time. Ah, heavy, heavy again.. Clean cup move down! Just how is a raven like a writing desk again? Mad watch! Mad watch! Yep. Two days slow, that's the problem. Sometimes, I wonder why I keep writing these ramblings. I have my serious doubts about the entertainment value here. It's not a book, though it's a bit longer so far than a lot of them. Ah, but not even half the megabytes as the King James Bible... Ah, so there's a goal, I guess. I doubt it would have the same staying power. No preacher is going to tell the congregation to turn to the Book Of Wie, Chapter 1, Verse 3. Fair enough. I am no prophet, and I'm definitely not a god. Believe me, if I were a god, there would be some serious changes around here. It's probably not going to be a book, much less a movie. If it were a movie, I'd be one of those loud obnoxious folks in the back row, yelling, "Don't do it, stupid!" at my younger self. You know, like in a horror movie where they say, "Oh no, don't you go in there!" And Jason is like, "Shut up, will ya! Ya'll making my job harder than it needs to be!" So... Probably neither a book nor a movie will my ramblings ever be. So, why continue? Cheap therapy. Doctor Blog-ieo PhD. (Phony Diploma). Friends, this isn't the product, but the byproduct. In an age where stigma reigns supreme, with distance and price his royal advisors, this is how poor people deal with mental issues. But, hey, it keeps me functioning out in the world. If I stay functional, I can keep holding down a job and keep paying the bills. Best of all, nobody has to know my business, aside from you, my dear friends, Romans, robots, and strangers. But you won't call those guys in the white coats with the good drugs, will ya? On second thought, I could use a vacation. I am Napoleon Bonaparte, and I demand a room with a view! I feel a lot like my first car: Ragged, run down, a bit rusty, but still working, but in the many adventures we had together, I sure loved that car all the same. Maybe there's hope for me yet. I also hope that this makes sense on some level, but it could be a bridge too far. Clean cup? Move down? Yeah, let's do that. Oh, and a very merry unbirthday to you. On an easier topic, I have to say that Dosbox X's save state function works quite awesomely for recording demos. So far, it has worked flawlessly with both Doom and Duke Nukem 3D. I am working on revamping all my demos. Duke, Doom, and any DOS FPS game that records demos. It's nice not having to start all over. I can have some very flashy game play without the risk of messing everything up. See why I wish life were more like those games? No more messing up. Well, it happens, but I can go back and fix it, and then it's like it never happened. Yep. I could do well with the same powers in real life. Sadly, life is not a 1990s DOS game. Bummer, dude. In life, we do the best we can. In games, however, my best is a hell of a lot better. I am Cyber Merlin. Behold, my power! No in-game monster or alien can resist my power. No pixelated anime girl can resist my charm. In the game universe, in the universe of old computers and obsolete programming languages, I totally rule. In the real world, not so much. I have my little corner, I am king of my own castle, but nothing much beyond that. Each day, I have to go out into the world where the point is proven again and again that I absolutely don't rule Jack. The dude is just far too nimble and quick for me to best. Little joke there. As far as for Jack, Jack Abbott is a cool dude who excels at pissing off Victor Newman, another cool dude due to his quiet rage issues.... Ah, but I'm sure very few fellow 1980s and 1990s "The Young And The Restless" fans are reading this. If so, then you do understand that, and you do know the Power Of Victor Newman. Don't let that devious man, Jack Abbott tell you otherwise. See how my ramblings are just a bit more rambly of late? 

A Distorted Temporal Mirror

Hello Universe. It's me again. 

Another day, a few more thoughts. Have you ever looked at things this way? Souls as flames, they burn high and low? It's pretty apt if you ask me. This old ember's still glowing. Maybe I'm not the point of light I wished to be, but I can still find my way by this bit of illumination. It gets a tad gloomy sometimes but never completely surrenders to darkness. It is a spark that still burns, and I owe it to the ones that brought me here to keep it going. I've got to stay true. I've got to remember. Yet, it can be all so unclear, so uncertain. Which way, old soul? Which way? Oh, Universe, what am I to do? How am I to live? I find myself at a crossroads, yet I seem to be a train on tracks, this course ahead long ago engineered for no deviation, for no escape. Once, the possibilities were as the stars. Now it seems I am caught in the orbit of things to come. It seems I live in my mind and I live in the past, far more than in the reality of the here and now. I call the so called present day the future. Why? Because it so often seems like the days after everything ended. It's like sitting in the cinema after the movie is over. Just me and my jumbled thoughts. Dad's been on my mind a lot of late. Father's Day, and next month being a year since his passing. I have a lot of heavy thoughts about this fast approaching Father's Day, the first without my own father, I would like to talk a bit about him. He began his career as a draftsman in the days before computer aided design. He drew by hand the maps that computers routinely make today. Except that my father had the most beautiful handwriting that a computer could never match. Still, the drafting room was not his destiny. I remember him telling me how they kept bringing him out into the field, learning the trade, building the skills, and that's how he eventually became a registered land surveyor. This man traversed the snakiest swamps, dodged cars on the busiest highways, all just to make sure I had a home, clothes on my back, and that I never had to go hungry. More importantly, this man was there for me for my entire life. Well, for as long as he could be. He didn't stop being my father when I became an adult. He didn't stop looking out for me. There were times even in the last months of his life when I had to reassure him that I'd be okay. I can not express in a few words all he did for me. This year is the first that I can't give him a Father's Day card, the first year I can't go see him, can't sit and talk computers or radios or of the many things we had in common. These words are all I have, and they're not much. What would I tell him besides the obvious fact that I love him and I miss him? I guess I'd say, "I'll be okay, Dad." What more can I do? Honor him by word and example in every day that I have left. As it goes, not every day is the same. I guess I'm getting by okay. Sleep and eat, work, and pay bills. That's life. It gets a bit monotonous sometimes. There are moments when I really feel I'm going out of my head. Mornings like this are a hangover without the fun of drinking the night before. It's amazing that people actually pay money to feel totally out of it. I get that feeling absolutely free of charge. Lucky me. In the wisdom of middle age, I prefer my faculties at full function. I have totally changed my preferred state of mind: Awake and alert. Too bad that same middle age has made it so damn elusive these days. Within the spirit dwell, two cavemen. The first is named Ogg. "Mmmmm, fire pretty..... AHHHHH! FIRE HOT!" And the other caveman is called UGG.... As in, I looked at my beeping alarm clock this morning, and my first thought was, "UGG!" Oh boy, here we go again. Oh well, at least I don't have to go clubbing for breakfast. Civilization, yay! Hold it together there, buddy. I'm neither Mad Max nor am I the Lord Humongous. I would be gravely disappointed if the world were to burn down and we find ourselves out of gasoline. Mohawks, spikes, and leather gear aren't exactly my cup o tea. Some days are harder than others to get my head together. Monster movie fog out on the roads, Sleepy mental haze in my brain. It's a challenge to get my bearings on days like this. It's not impossible, but it does take some work. You gotta do what you gotta do, right? Yeah. With the alarm beeps burning deep in my brain, I find myself back in reality. Another dreaded Monday. Damn it. Such days do not care whether our hearts are in it or not. And mine's definitely not. I could use an eternity more of sleep. I swear my own mind and body could out troll the internet. This damn lack of sleep was not due to a lack of trying. Cosmic Wie OS just absolutely refused to shut down until the wee hours of this morning. It's a bummer, dude. And what sleep I did get was haunted with bad dreams. The past comes back for encore after encore. Grief works the midnight shift. People, places, traumatic events. With me, they happen more than once. My subconscious mind sure believes in reruns. I had THE dream again. The one where I had this final chance to talk to somebody I love, but I am not supposed to tell them it's the last time. So instead, I'm having to explain what is wrong with me and why I am making such a big deal of what should have been a normal parting of ways. Bye for now, see ya later. But there is no later, and I am not allowed to say. It's another example if dream me not being like the real me at all, because know this spacetime continuum: I don't give a damn about stars exploding, galaxies unwhirling, whatever. If that's the cost of speaking up, then I'm speaking up. Count those lucky stars such things only happen in dreams because I would be very selfish in my decision. Universe be damned, I'm saving her. I never claimed to be a hero, just a human being who has never dealt well with loss. Why does this dream recur? Why must I see again and again this bewildered, confused look on her face at my total emotional meltdown at having to say goodbye? Maybe this is just among the myriad of ways I punish myself. It is an effective punishment. It works because it hurts. Hell is more than a place, ladies and gentlemen. It is a state of mind. Sometimes, we go there long before we actually die. Sometimes, I call it Limbo. Sometimes, I call it Purgatory. Sometimes, I call it Hell. There are no cool rock bands or album cover landscapes down here. Only a lot of suffering in silence. They don't call it hell for nothing. There's nothing quite so hellish as being beyond any chance to make things right. Act in haste, repent in leisure, because you've got nothing but time and lamentations. And that my friends is my thesis on the metaphysical. Take it as you will. Also, take a clean cup and could you move down a bit? New subject, please. Can we make it a little less heavy this time? It has been quite the long day today. Time flies when you're having fun. It creeps by painfully slow when you're not. Such is human perception. Such is the way of the force. Patience is the Jedi way. Just call me Darth Wie of the Sith. Good, good, let the boredom flow through you. Meh. They really need to invent the human charger...... Just plug me into the wall. I couldn't produce enough Sith lightening to power a pocket calculator right now. Damn. Sometimes, there's just not enough caffeine in the world. Some days, it's just hard to get moving. Other days, I totally run out of gas. It's like carrying a boulder about the size of a mountain on your back. Have you been living under a rock? Yep. Sure have. And I'm tired of toting that bad boy around. Here, do you want it? Merry Christmas. Ah, but it's June! Okay... Happy early 4th of July. Merry red glaring rockets. Courtesy of the ACME Corporation. Wile E Coyote, super genius. I do like the way that rolls out. Damn it... There's too much workweek at the end of my energy. I really wish I could just go home. That's both possible and impossible, depending on the concept. I find myself separated from certain places by long years instead of long miles. Geographically, I'm living right there. Temporally, I can never truly go home again. That, friends, Romans, robots, and strangers is over, long, long gone. I can already tell which way the wind is blowing and what direction the tide is flowing. It's going to be a very long day, ladies and gentlemen. Bear with me while I get it together. Days like this, it's not so easy. This is when I need reasons and things like that. And can we do positive reinforcement this time? I already have a grim idea of the consequences of telling anyone and everyone to go to hell and taking it to the house. Tell me some good things that will happen if I persevere through these hours. Otherwise, it's damn hard to get motivated about anything. Flark it, we'll do it live! Flarking thing sucks! You know something? If I were an anchor at Inside Edition I wouldn't be bitching and moaning, but hey, that's just me. All you do is read the teleprompter. How hard can that be? Plus I'd be nicer to my coworkers than O'Reilly was. What a dick. Subject change. Clean cup move down! Clean Cup! We'll move it live! Trucking zing trucks! There's just too much going on in this head of mine. There is no such thing as "Only" in your mind. If it's in your mind... If it's on your mind... Then as far as you're concerned, it's EVERYWHERE. Only in your mind has about the same integrity as "Only driven on Sundays" when spoken by that dodgy used car salesman with the raggedy checkered jacket and the big "trust me" smile. Your world and reality are within and without. That is why it is so important and should not be pushed aside. If it's on your mind then it's important. How do I deal with it? Right here with the good Doctor Blog-ieo. He's not much on advice, but you can't beat the price. Ah, Doom and Doctor Blog-ieo. What a combination when it comes to treatment. I'd be the first to admit I've got problems. Try living my life unscathed. Try walking through these last several years with me and see if you too don't have a few loose marbles rolling around. My games actually make great therapy. They present me with solvable problems. Doom Imps (Chuddies) can be defeated, bearing rockets or not. So many other things I am dealing with can not. If this is a war of attrition, I am going to lose. I no longer have anybody to depend on for support. Instead, I've been the one who has to be supportive, financially and otherwise. I can't even save a damn dime. I've got a lot on me these days and nobody's helping me. If I don't come up with ways, nobody else will. It's time to find out whether I am a true survivor, or if I have just been spared so far. The true test is now. Wish me luck. Holding it together ain't as easy as I make it look. I'm like Montgomery Scott and I'm giving it all she's got. And I don't know how much longer I can. One day at a time. Even hours sometimes. Each square on the calendar is a new challenge. It often feels like swimming against a very strong current, one that seems to like the blackness of the abyss. I have to fight hard and never waver. The strength of entropy is that it never stops. The only way to fight it is (you guessed it) to never stop either. The difference? Entropy does not need willpower to keep going. Human beings do. And that's why entropy so often wins in the end. To quote MC Hawking, what is entropy? I hear the people asking me. Let me explain it in layman's terms. Entropy is the grass and the weeds that are constantly growing just as soon as you mow the lawn. Entropy is why rooms get messier rather than cleaner over time if you don't intervene. Entropy is why things break but never mend on their own. Entropy is fading organic dye causing bit by bit to go bad on the CD-ROM's authored by my father and my baby sister, if I don't recopy them on more permanent media. Entropy is why you don't perpetually have nice things if you don't put in the work to maintain them. Entropy is why pictures and memories fade unless you fight to preserve them. And it was entropy my mother spoke of even though neither one of us knew at the time. This is true for more than mere things, but for relationships, careers, anything you build. Everything needs maintenance. That includes the human spirit as well. The body, too. Entropy will make us old and weak. But I guess we can only slow down that deterioration by staying active and eating healthy. I hope I fare better than my parents did, but who knows? I am of them, and I am by them. My genetics are their genetics. I wouldn't want to be any other way. Still, I don't think retirement was kind to them at all. Maybe it still would have happened had they not. I don't know. But it makes me a little afraid of retiring myself. You've gotta keep moving, not even slow down. I guess we're not promised a certain number of years. Grandpa lived to be 95, but Marsha was only 40. It's not that I am even afraid of dying. Quite frankly I am tired, man. Oblivion sounds rather nice. However my fear is specifically of dying before I've done all the things I need to do. Besides, I'm not yet convinced that my grown children would be ready to survive and thrive without me. It may sound conceited, but I seem to be the only one in this bunch with a paycheck and a job. I think I need a little help here. It's not going to happen so I'd better keep rockin' on. Clean cup move down.... It's yet another year that I'm glad I don't live in California. Be it actual fires or riots, LA has been burning on and off for longer than I've been alive, indeed for the better part of this past century seemed to be always on the verge of bursting into flames. A common thread is that some don't seem to get the difference between protesting or rioting and looting. They seem to think that it depends on ones political beliefs, whether they are a rioter or a protestor. I hate politics, and there should be certain things that transcend political beliefs. Let me break it down. It should be simple: Disagree with the policies, and still love the country. Have issues with the government, and still love the county. Protesting is when you march, carry signs, and shout slogans for your cause. Rioting is when you burn stuff, steal stuff, damage property, disrupt traffic, and threaten the safety of both citizens and law enforcement officers. Protesting is legal and a first amendment right protected by the constitution of the United States. Rioting is not. I don't care which beast they're wandering after, the donkey or the elephant. If they break stuff, If they threaten public safety, they should go to jail. Oh and why are they carrying the flag of a foreign country? If they hate America and love Mexico, why are they here instead of there? It is so exhausting and extremely draining to watch the news anymore. It has been that way for all of this hellish decade. Very few are out to inform. Many are out to manipulate. This decade, actually these last 15 or 16 years, have given me many reasons for me to be upset. I don't need any more. I've got a living to make, bills to pay, and several things I want to accomplish before I die. I don't have the time or the energy for all this nonsense. Leave me alone. You can reload the page a thousand times, be it a "news" site or a social media feed, and you will see the same bullshit. Remember when the internet was a wonderful escape? Not anymore. It's even more corrupted and fake than the rest of the world. It all boils down to people trying to sell you crap you don't need. Products, Scams, Religion, or a political point of view. They're constantly trying to make us feel a certain way or to join their distorted bubble. Life is just too damn short. I've got no time to spare. Whatever you're selling, I ain't buyin'. Leave me alone. Okay... Enough already! Clean Cup, move down! Even sane people would prefer Wonderland to this madhouse. Have you ever seen so much wasted breath and so much wasted time? Can't they see time ticking down? Can't they see they'll never get it back? When it's gone, It's gone! Can't they see it? I guess there was a time when I didn't see it either. Ah, but these last few years have taught me much. I see it all too clearly now. At the end of this day, we will all have one less left. Time is indeed the predator. Doctor Soran was not telling lies. He wanted his loved ones back. So do I. The difference is I wouldn't destroy a planet to make it happen. They would not approve. Yet I understand that particular fictional character's pain and desperation a bit too well for my liking. "You've been looking behind you son. Try looking ahead." That was advice from another father to his son. I think Dad would be telling me the same thing. In life, you don't search for meaning. You have to build it. That is the task before me now. How does one build meaning on the day after everything? I do have many things I need to do with the time I have left. Much work lies ahead. There is my job as a caretaker of sorts, a guardian of memories, of all things analog and digital. That is my job, as the figurative keeper of the lighthouse...... For a time. Today, all is depending on me. No pressure, huh? Very funny. I am the one to guide this ship of family.... For now. Who knows how long I've got, but I've got a job to do. Miles to go, miles to go. Okay, how about something a bit lighter? Clean cup move down? Yeah. Okay... Computer nerd stuff. I know I'm probably talking into the wind here because I doubt very many share my weird hobbies of playing and recording classic Doom demos, but I learned something new today! Demos play differently externally than they do internally. Meaning? If you're having problems with desyncs, be sure to play them externally, using the "-playdemo" command line parameter. It's because of those stupid revenants and their damn rockets. (Another reason to hate 'em) Ah, but now, Doomguy will actually complete the level instead of staggering around like he's drunk on Martian wine. (He challenged Cybie to a drinking contest and lost!) Also! I found out how to use Dosbox X's save state function. Hellooooo Duke Nukem 3D! There's going to be some cool demos out of that deal. I'm already to level 12 in a Doom V1.666 mod known as NastyImp. Those rocket firing Chuddies won't win this time. The beauty of this is I can pick up where I left off in level 12 instead of starting completely over. Though I may start over on a higher skill level. Ultraviolent Chuddies! I'm coming for ya, buddies! These old computer games serve an important purpose. They provide diversion. They provide distraction. And boy, do I need diversion and distraction. It is also a way out of some heavy heavy thoughts. When I'm piddling with my games I'm not thinking as much about these heavy things, all that has changed, all who I have lost. I know I might sound silly, but we seriously need a bit of silliness in our lives. No doubt it has kept me out of the nuthouse, at least so far.... I am Napoleon! Just kidding. Diversions are important so long as they don't keep you from facing the heavy stuff when you need to. It may seem crazy, but it is how I have survived. 

The End Of Aquamarine Dreams

The border between the waking world and the realm of dreams is more of a blur than a well defined line. I remember quite well a few months ago, my father telling me I needed to get my butt up and get ready for work. This was months after his death. You can call it supernatural, or you can call my half asleep hallucinating hazy brain. Either way, I did not oversleep that morning. Things have sure been fuzzy wuzzy of late. Ghosts, afterimages, shadow people out of the corner of my eye. Heavy thoughts, television snow, white noise, heavy rain on a tin roof. Roaring static, ebb and flow, waves crashing on the beach, the sound of everything and nothing, all at once. Where am I? What exactly is going on? Monster movie fog, mental haze, deep dark waters, I seem to be hour-glassing, slowly weaving thoughts together. A-wah? Where was I just now? And what exactly was my train of thought? I seem to have inadvertently let a few hundred miles of track go by. It would seem the gears in the machinery of time keep jumping. Time skipping seems much more likely than learning (and forgetting immediately after) teleportation. Beam me up, Scotty. Whadya mean you cannaduit? This is an anomaly: Temporal displacement... Has to be. Where has everybody gone? Missing, missing the missing... Minutes, hours, days, even years.... And people... Where have they all gone? Why do I remain? How could it have all come to this in the blink of an eye? It does not compute. Hour-glassing, hourglasses, grains of sand on the beach. Stars in the sky shining the light of the past.. What is the commonality? You can never count them all. So different are our days. So different are our moments. Blue skies, blue screens, and horizons beyond the reach of any eye. Still I can almost see them, feel them all around me. There is forever in the stars, but even they burn out eventually. Hello, Universe. I find myself writing to you again. It's already June, you know? Another month and Dad will have been gone for a year. I've been throwing myself into working around the house, trying to bring back all the beauty of the place, the way he used to keep things when he was in better health. I can't bring them back, only the home place. I have had relatives say, both my one surviving aunt, and my one surviving sister, that they can't bear seeing the place without him. Me, I can't bear being without the place, now that I am without him. Everywhere I look is a memory. I just feel closer to my parents when I am working in the yard. If I couldn't do this, I swear I would go out of my mind. I hear it's going to storm the rest of the week so I've been trying to get everything done after work. I got about half the mowing done yesterday and I hope to catch the rest of it today.... Then it can rain, rain, rain. I find myself dealing with things he used to have to deal with. It seems I am the only one holding down a job. I wish these grown kids of mine would finally get their shit together. I don't have unlimited resources or money and I work my ass off for what little I've got. I help in the best way that I can, but I can't exactly do this forever. It is about all I can do to cover my own bills. If I were super rich, it wouldn't be a problem, but damn... There is only so much of me to go around. This is no doubt how he felt at times. I get it, more and more, I get it. Here I am now, the captain of this figurative ship, elder of this particular part of the family, and I'm just doing my best to stay the course. But just as William Riker once said, I may be able to take over for him, but I could never replace him, nor would I try. My own judgment, and the echos of long ago advice.. That's all I have, along with the weight of responsibility. It's all I have. I would feel a lot better with the peace of mind that I won't have to be facing the struggle alone forever. A little help would sure go far in abating my fears. I'm still waiting. It's one hell of a tightrope walk. There is no safety net. It's all or nothing and the only one I can depend on is myself. I really hope I stay reasonably healthy and strong for a very long time. Otherwise it seems I am totally flarked. I can't stop. I can't even slow down. Warp 9 engage. Damn the photon torpedoes. Full speed ahead. I hope I can hold her together, lads. I'm giving it all she's got. I cannadu no more. I'm just not really feeling up to all this today. I've got to power through. If I don't do this then it simply won't be done. If it doesn't get done, then I'll have some blues to go along with all that rain. I need to power through. A darkened room and the deepest sleep awaits me if I just power through. Delayed gratification, psychology, a self administered Jedi mind trick. Well begun is half done. All that yadda. All that Yoda. Hmmmmm! Do or do not. There is no try. My body is counteracting my efforts by running a test cycle on random pain receptors. I can't let it stop me. Damn I'm tired, in all ways a living being can be. Physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually..... Last train on the last track. Flying, falling, crashing... Well begun is.... I usually get a second wind once I build momentum... Well begun is.... Well begun is half done. I've got to do this. My mental health in the very near future depends on me powering through today... Tomorrow evening, I can rest. I can let the sound of the rain be my lullaby, singing me to sleep. But today, I must do this. (The next day, later still....) I made it okay. Got R done... Now if I can just get through these next few hours, I can drift off to the sound of the rain. How lovely will that be? Beautiful. Come on television snow, let me fade a while. Let me pretend for just a little while I never existed at all. If life were a video game, I would have started over a long time ago. Whoh, dude, it's done got heavy again. I'm just that circulation those clouds love to orbit, round and round. Tropical depression? Maybe a bit north geographically. Maybe a bit south metaphorically. I've got to get out of this state of mind. Heavy heavy never helped anything, yet here I am again. Is it a problem with the Earth's gravitational pull? No. Except that it holds me here. But, like everything else, it's only for now. I knew there would come a time when I would have to close certain doors to certain thoughts and certain things. They had their purpose and they had their era, but now that day has come. Still, there is a corner of my heart that is breaking as I speak. Even now, I am not so sure if I am truly ready to let go. I can not expect the world to understand what even I have never been quite able to wrap my own mind around. Reality can be so stark, so harsh. I seem to be waking from a living dream, an escape, a not quite delusion aquamarine dream of tinted lenses of blended images of a reality that never quite materialized. Was I being ridiculous? Was I being silly, or hopelessly deluded? Or was I simply trying to survive? Was there any other way to motivate myself to keep on trying, to keep on fighting entropy? Was there any other way to get through mornings when I otherwise felt like giving up? Was it so wrong to take heart and inspiration in such a little change? This was the only source of smiles for me on many dark days. Everything was falling apart. In a world that just seemed so hopeless and bleak, I had to build a new one, to find some sort of thread to hold onto, a reason to wake up each day. What else was I to do? It may have been an illusion, but it was what I needed at the time. I suppose times have changed, and that season has come and gone. Maybe this time, I can awaken for a better reason, that I can finally, happily, healthily accept the reality I once fled. I don't see this as a bad thing. But I'll still miss it. The Aquamarine Dream was beautiful beyond words, but it was no more real than an image in the mirror. Mind and body can both be inescapable prisons. Alcatraz and its shark infested waters have no comparison. There's no escaping yourself. We all have our struggles, within and without. So, I did what I could, what I had to do. That was then. This is now. I do not regret it, but it's all over. Maybe this flight of fancy had a serious purpose after all. I'm still here, aren't I? I'm still here. Why? Why me and not them? Why? I guess the reason is to the point I shouldn't squander this gift. The lovely Oblivia can wait just a bit longer. She does have eternity on her side, in any case. Though some flavors of fatigue can never be cured by mere sleep. You learn to know them well with age.