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.....