Live from Cosmic Station 2525

Hello, Universe.  

Live from Cosmic Station 2525, it is again and indeed Friday night. In my best Obiwan voice, "Hello, there!" You know, I once read in a self-help book that instead of thinking about what we don't want, we should flip it around and ask ourselves what we DO want. So, let's do that, shall we? What do we want from the world? What do we want from each other? It is easy and quite right to want world peace and for a whole lot more kindness and love in the world. But let's make it a bit more personal. What do you want from the world? Okay, I'll start. In honest reflection, I am not sure if I'd ever be exactly heard. After all, we've all got our own problems and struggles that a far away voice could hardly intrude upon. What do I, typing on this keyboard in Station 2525, want from the world, if I could have everything I wanted? Would I want everyone to love me and be around me? NO! Such a crowd would scare me to death. It is a frightening thought, eight billion plus people at the neutral zone of Cosmic Station 2525, all wanting to be here. Yikes! So, it's not that. So, if not that, what? Okay.. Here is my wish list. It's a sort of trinity... To be seen, heard, and understood at least by a few. To be cared for by a few, maybe at least loved by one. I think too, as I often feel as a man out of his element.... and time. I would like to find those who share a few concepts, experiences, heck.. pop culture references. There are days I feel like I fell right out of a time machine. So... That's mine for now. I would love to hear how others might answer this question: What do you want from the world, and what should we want from each other? You need not be the devil's advocate, but do be an adequate advocate for yourself. Loneliness on an overcrowded planet is highly illogical. You know? I do find interesting these documentaries about what would happen to the earth if humanity suddenly disappeared, how long buildings, cities, roads, bridges yadda yadda yadda would last: What would survive after 1, 5, 20, 100, ten thousand years... But there's just one problem: And you're not talkin' to the wrong Harvey. I know humanity. We're not leaving without taking the whole shebang with us. Like a jealous lover, if we can't have Earth, nobody else can. We may not have perfected a lot of things, but we're pretty damn good at destruction. Clean cup. Move down. It's time to talk about a few elephants in the room. As I may have said at times, I sit around worrying about a lot of things that are simply beyond my control. It does not help anything. It does not change anything. All it does is just make me feel terrible and miserable. I've been off the antidepressants for more than two weeks now, and I am beginning to wonder if that was such a wise thing to do. Then again, I have spent a lot of time feeling this way even while on the medicine. Really, I am trying to pinpoint the difference. I find myself falling short of coming up with any clear contrast. In all honesty, I have been feeling this way for quite a while now. I really don't want to sit around feeling as if my life is over. I would assume it isn't. This heart still beats, and I still have things to do. I see three situations all in one. There are the things that are because of my choices and actions. There are the things that just are, no matter my actions. Then, most painfully, there are the things that are, despite my greatest efforts and actions, to the contrary. Maybe I should know the differences. I should only kick myself for the extreme former. Not for the things I gave it my extreme all to prevent. They're what they are because there was only so much I could do before the actions of others had to take over. In short, I can help, but I can't do the whole thing for them. At a given point, we must all take responsibility for our own lives. There are two types of people who get it wrong: those who blame others for their own failures and those who blame themselves for other people's failures. Both are wrong. The former never learns to take responsibility. The latter never learns to set themselves free. And if I don't set myself free of this burden, I fear I will go totally mad. I have done the absolute best that I could. I can't even think of anything I could have done differently back then. I can't think of anything different that I could do now. This, my friends, seems to be a collision course, and I fear what may happen to me if I don't free myself from it. But how? What would be the best course of action? What must I do to free myself? Are there any alternate paths before me that I may take? Life is too short. Those words take on a hell of a meaning once you realize that your life has been more than half lived already. It's a countdown and not the Rick Deeze / Casey Kasem kind of countdown.... Ah, the days, tape recorder at the ready, waiting to capture my favorite song.. I miss the simplicity.. I certainly crave it now. That simplicity is long gone now, just like my parents, just like my baby sister. Nothing is simple anymore. Though I guess I need to make things simple. Maybe I need to imagine that the worst might happen and be prepared for it. It beats worrying. It beats stressing out. There is the time to search. There is a time to try and salvage what you can. But there is also a time to give up as lost. There's a time to watch a doomed ship sink beneath the waves and understand that it is over. And what comes next is basically making the best of a bad situation, moving on, and building anew. The time for second guessing and self blame is long gone once you realize the situation was never in your hands in the first place. There were no better choices then, and there are no better choices now. You can not help what other people do. You should stop taking consequences for what other people do. You should not ruin a beautiful day in worry and stress. You only get so many beautiful days, you know? It truly is a countdown to death and oblivion when you find yourself on the back side of life. This isn't the middle of the song. I am somewhere between the middle and the end. Each beautiful day is a treasure that I should not be wasting away. I have done my time and my due diligence. I have even gone above and beyond what was required of me. But, now, the time has come to set myself free. Nobody else can do this. And more, I think I have come to the decision that despite the side effects that I absolutely hate, I should still probably get back on my antidepressants. You see, while the situation is no less dire than usual, it is no more so than usual either. Yet, I've been feeling pretty damned down and hopeless. These have been some beautiful days, but it would seem there has been so much of me blinded to all that beauty. I hate that I have to sacrifice a part of myself that I have been trying of late to bring back after years of casting it aside.... But I was happier. Maybe there is a way I might find what I need so much, without all the pretense and the expectations.... Though I don't know how.... All I know is that dropping the meds was a big mistake. And so the quest for an answer (aka question) continues: What do I want? Or could it be that I know what I want and what eludes me? Is just how should I go about finding it? Because in some ways, I know exactly what I want. It's just difficult to explain it to anyone else. And it's insane that I can't explain it, for it's not that complicated. Or is it? It shouldn't be! It's a feeling. Who doesn't want to feel safe and loved? Just without all the expectations, save for love in return. That I have in abundance to give, but it would seem I am wearing thin on a lot of other things. I need a kind soul to come home to, a loving heart to hold onto. Has anything ever been so simple and seemed so impossible at the same time? Friday has long passed. Now, it's Monday morning. Man, I feel awful. My mind is fuzzy wuzzy. The only thing clear in my mind right now is the headache. Hell of a thing, I tell ya. As I said earlier, I have decided that yes, I need my medicine despite the humiliating side effects, and I have just taken my second dose. It takes a while to kick in, so wish me luck. Maybe I'll be back to what passes for normal these days in about a week or so. Until then, I guess I shall tread as carefully as I can. I can't say I like this feeling, but it is up to me to manage it. Remember. People don't fake this sort of thing. They fake being normal. And for that, I deserve an Academy Award. Because my acting is top notch when it comes to this sort of thing, appearing like I'm ready for adventure and not for escaping to the nearest 'airlock' on my 'spaceship'. Though there are moments when I really want out. Sometimes, a lab mouse gets tired, ya know? The cheese gets stale. The maze becomes meaningless. And in this space, no one can hear you squeak. The rat race gets old. Still. What does one lose by participating in the experiment just a little while longer? Eternity minus one more day, one more year, two more decades, or 50 centuries... It's always the same, still eternity. One can not take away from infinity. It will still be there, unchanging, unaffected, undiminished. You might not be able to count on anyone, but you can count on eternity. It shall be there. Forever and ever amen. And it occurs to me, as I sit here with these chaotic emotions running through my brain, that eternity still can't get here soon enough, and yes... It was a big mistake to try quitting my antidepressants. Big flarking mistake. This is going to be one difficult week. There are so many things beyond my reach, beyond my control. I really need to start letting go if I only knew how. How can something be beyond my control yet within the realm of my responsibility? That is highly illogical. I must let go. My mental health, and maybe even my life, depends on it. This is not optional anymore. It is what needs to be done. Still, the anxiety from this whole situation is an unbearable burden. Things can't keep going on like this. I guess I should also consider that some of what I'm feeling comes from the imbalance dropping the meds caused. Maybe I should give myself time to level out? Possibly. I should at least be reasonably stable before confrontation of any kind. Okay. Maybe I should talk about my situation plainly and directly. After all, a problem must be spelled out in a definite way in order for any clear answers as to what is to be done about it. I, of course, was the parent who stayed, the parent who did not leave. It is my belief from experience that it is the one who stays that gets punished for it. I never wanted it to be this way. I thought I would have had some help or at least somebody by my side who truly loved me to at least hold me for a while when things got rough. But it was not to be. I was left on my own with three kids to care for. I did the best that I could. Was it good enough? I guess that is for others to decide. It has just been a road far longer and far more difficult than I could have ever imagined. I had help from my sisters and my parents, but honestly, what could ever take the place of an unbroken home? I did what I could to make things as normal as they could be. Was it normal? Probably not. But I did the absolute best I could. I was left in a mess, left as a mess, but I still had to function because there really was no other option. I was the one who did not leave, and there were responsibilities of two that had to be met. I was the only one left, so it was going to be done by me or not done at all. Marrying Jennifer was the biggest mistake of my life. People tried to warn me. Even I knew a bunch of red flags. How could I have been so damn stupid? I guess I was lonely, and there she was, being so sweet and kind, talking about how she wanted a relationship and a family with me. I must have let it all go to my head. 10 years later, she leaves me with a 5 year old, a seven year old, and a 9 year old to raise all alone. I believed her. I trusted her. That was my downfall. And why? For loneleiness and fear of dying a virgin? Something tells me I would be better off as an old virgin than what I am today. And who's to say I would be one? As I discovered later, sex is far easier to find than actual love. And it's so damn empty empty without love. No being held. No gazes with loving eyes. Just a quick off and nothing at all afterward. Who's to say if it would matter right now if I were still a virgin? I probably wouldn't know what a loveless relationship feels like. Finally, who's to say I might have actually found my true soulmate had I not let that particular woman fall into my bed... With me in it? I wish Almighty God would give me a chance to slam down that phone in 1998 after delivering instructions on how to go to hell. If life were a video game, I could quit and start all over, I would have pressed that power button a long time ago. Dear God, whichever one of you is in charge here. First day of kindergarten 1978, now please, with all my knowledge and wisdom intact. I wonder what my present day would be like. I'd most likely be somewhere else.... And somebody else. If only I were granted the chance. If only I were given the power. Such a daydream makes for a great escape, but I have to say reentry sucks. It's a bummer, dude. I see but one real escape. Still, there are all the things I said about infinity and eternity. So, I guess this old mouse will remain in the lab for now. I've been squeaking into the void for a long time now. It's nothing new. My situation and this loneliness can be just a wee bit soul crushing. Time is indeed the fire in which we burn. We need not die to find ourselves in hell. There are many of us who are already here. It certainly seems that way to me. I am so tired, Universe. I just want to do the rest of my time on this planet with at least some semblance of peace. I don't need any more heaviness. The stressful drama with the ex is long over. I haven't seen her in many years and it would be way too soon if I ever did. She deserves this hellscape far more than I ever did. All those years I spent working crazy hours, only to catch hell when I got home. All the times I caught the blame for things that didn't have a damn thing to do with me. All the times I was used and abused, then abandoned? And now, death dares to steal the three people who were by my side in all this while sparing the selfish whore who has constantly and consistently faked dying for sympathy? And people wonder why I no longer believe in God. A righteous Almighty God wouldn't have allowed this situation to have gone this far. He would have reached out with his hand of justice and would have at least smited a few bitches and assholes who so desperately deserve it. My disbelief in a god has nothing to do with self-pride or a disrespect for the almighty. I would happily bow before, kneel before, and sincerely worship a true Almighty God who champions all that is good and rights all wrongs. I would have no problem in placing such a deity far above me. But, look around you. Do you see him? Do you see His works that destroy evil and put the devil in his place? NO!!!! As Will Riker said, "You can't! Don't even try!" George Carlin was right. Religion is bullshit. Dad deserved better. Momma deserved better. Marsha deserved better. Last and least, I deserve better. The fact that something so wrong has been allowed to go on for so long would be unacceptable blasphemy to any true God of righteousness. This kid disappears for days, leaving me to wonder and worry. I don't have the time, energy, or sanity to be constantly chasing him. Great God, I need to be free of this! How much longer must I suffer? How much longer must I pay the consequences of actions that were never my own? Lord, Oh Lord, how much longer? I am so tired of this futility. I am so sick of feeling so powerless. At this point in my life, I should have the power. I should be like Prince Adam in front of Castle Grayskull, lightning bolts arcing across my sword. I am so sick of worrying about things and people that just won't change. I am tired of this quiet suffering. I am just too old, way too old. And maybe I want to be able to enjoy whatever few good years I have left. Is this really too much to ask after all these years of stress, drama, this great sacrifice of my sanity? Haven't I done my part? Haven't I done my time already? Why should I be treated as if I have done something wrong? These are not my own consequences. If anything it was my foolish belief that I could fix her, help her, change her. If anything it was my overwhelming need to simply be loved, needed, desired. To actually be important to at least one person. I thought that if I were kind, I would receive kindness. I thought that If I gave it my all, others would give back to me. I thought that if I loved, I would have love. I thought that if I trusted, that trust would have been valued, treated with care. I thought that if I were to place my heart in the hands of another, it would have indeed been in a safe place. I was wrong. I thought that others had the same conscious, the same heart, the same sense for what is right, for common decency. I was wrong. For some, shame is no burden at all. For some, guilt does not exist, for everything will always be the fault of someone else. Yes, the marriage is long gone, long dead, buried, and over. But the innumerable consequences live on. If I had it to do all over. I don't think I would, knowing so much now that I didn't know then. The cost was way higher than I ever thought it would be. In addition to my whole life going to hell on account of her, there is the simple fact that maybe, just maybe, I never did have what it takes to exist for decades in such a thankless role. I think maybe I would have been happier, had I never gotten involved in the first place. I often wish I could break free with a total reset, a clean slate, no baggage, no lingering regrets, no more problems coming back from the dead like zombies to bite again and again. Yeah... Life would be a lot more fun if it were more like a video game. Extra lives, saved games, oh and cheat codes for money and health. It might even have replay value if this were so. All I want is peace and maybe the chance to enjoy some fruit of my many years of work and sacrifice. I mean, really, I have been in the workforce for far more years than I suspect that I have left to live. I think the world has already gotten from me far more than its fair share. Now all that I wish is to be left in peace. Am I really asking too much? I don't think so. I have done my time and I have paid more than what is right. Really, this is a bill that I should be collecting on. And it is far past due. There have been too many good people who have owed nothing but gave all and paid dearly. Just for once, let it be someone who actually owes who finally has to pay their due and pay dearly. Let the posers, the fakers, and the liars, finally get a dose of reality, and a mighty heap of justice. The time has come. Execute Order 66.... If it were written for scumbags rather than Jedi. This is not a joke, for I am not a joke and neither is my life. I will collect what is owed me. I will collect for what is owed to all the good people who should have received it. I shall make good all that long should have been. Maybe my purpose in being still stuck here is to make good on a lot of things. The continuing problem stems from the oldest child, who is becoming more and more like her with each passing year. The only difference I can see besides gender is that she left and he won't. He's too good to leave, just as he was too good to graduate high school or hold a job for more than a few months. In just a couple of months, this "child" will be the exact same age I was when he was born. You know, I was working and supporting others back then, just as I am now. I have done the best I can. I did not leave. I did not abandon him as his mother did. And for staying, I have paid the price again and again. Financially was bad enough, but far more damaging has been the cost to my mental health. Now, friends, I am not sure of how much life I have left. But I don't want this sort of drama in my life anymore. I don't wish him any ill will, but I want him to move on. I don't care where he goes, so long as it's nowhere near me or this piece of ground. I need him out of my life before this stress and anxiety kills me. I have done everything I could. Still, I have been used, mistreated, and disrespected in far worse ways than even snarky teenaged me would have ever even thought about being to my own parents. So... He can live as freely as he can, so long as it is away from me, so that I, too, may live freely. It is time. It is past time. I want him out of my life. To put it bluntly, I am sick of his lousy attitude and his shitty ways. I want him out. I have done damn near three decades of stress, drama, and bullshit. Whatever of my own sins, I think I have more than paid for in this suffering. Now, the time has come for this to end. It needs to be over now. I don't care where he goes. So long as it is away from me. Like I said, I wish him no ill will. In fact, I would like him to succeed, be somebody, and actually do something with his life. I have my doubts, though. You can't keep acting like a cringy, self-serving wet blanket asshole and expect people to want to be around you, personally or professionally. Sorry, but that's not the way this world works. If you don't contribute energy, goodwill, or any nice thing to the situation, then you shall certainly be unwanted. I guess I should have made him leave the day he decided not to finish school. Or maybe the day he decided to show his ass and get himself fired from the job that I stuck my neck out at work to help him get. Or that day that he disrespected me in the worst way possible that I shall never forgive and shall take to my grave. At all of these points, he was already over the age of 18. Therefore, I was and am under absolutely no legal obligation to house or feed him. I wish he'd just go and move in with his mother. A lot of this situation I'm in was her doing in the first place. She went on and on and on about how she wanted children, about how she wanted to be a mother... And when the going got a little tough, when the reality turned out to be just a little less picture perfect, she bailed on me, bailed on me, and went back to her whoring ways. I can't tell you all the many messes she left that I have spent my life trying to clean up. I cant tell you the many hell fire flames that continue to burn me to this very day, flames she started but never touched her... I have been the one to burn, and I continue to burn in this flame. And the fire should have been long over. I have paid for my own sins and then some, and then a hell of a lot more. It is time for this sentence to end.