Angel for the Wie

 

Angel for the Wie. 

Angel for the win. 

Worlds fade away. 

Worlds begin again. 

A VCR remote in godly hands.

Be kind, rewind. To 1985 again.

Angel in my mind, angel out of time.

An illusion without reason

A delusion without rhyme.

Calling me back where I well know

Calling me where I can never go.

Trapped in the insanity of humanity.

A spirit tied to flesh and bone.

I am..... Alone.

Begin, begin, begin again.

Angel for the Wie. Angel for the win. 
 

What truly lives but uncertainty? Is there no peace but Oblivia's loving embrace? Is the only true tranquility that of the void? Can there be life without worry? Can there be heartbeats without chaos? Can there be rest? Can there be peace? All in the presence of life? There is a tiredness the young can never understand for it takes the weight of layer upon layer, year upon year, one after another, all these trips around the sun. It is impossible to get out of a spaceship to stretch, but the urge is overwhelming, isn't it? Round and blue, land and sea, but not for you, not for me, drifting through the darkness. For space is generous, yet time somehow is not. Can you see? This has been the longest journey, the strangest trip, yet it's not over, not yet. Despite a thousand shocks, despite many untold hazards, I am still here. I seem to be like Duracell, built to last. Have you ever seen a neatly arranged disaster zone? Rubble in neat stacks, debris sorted alphabetically? Life is chaos. Destiny is order. Yet destiny rebuilds nothing. That sort of thing is up to you and I. Neatly sorted stones do not make a castle on their own. What is a general without an army? Without power. What is an army without a general? Without purpose. And who am I without you? That, I am still learning, still discovering. When foundations disappear, castles shift. Sometimes they crumble. The Cosmic Castle is still standing, if a bit wibbly wobbly and wonky. Whatever meaning there is, I am still the king of space cadets. To reign in the rain. There are some things that can not tarnish. There are certain things that can not erode. Truth is one of them. Everything else requires shelter from these storms. Sometimes, I, too, need shelter. Sometimes I feel lost in a downpour, a cold rain falling, drenching me to my very bones. In times like these it is hard to find warmth even from within. It's hard to imagine ever being warm again. The harshness of reality, the finality of death, it has been too much. It's odd how I will cry out for mercy, saying that this is more than I can bear. Yet, I go on to bear it anyway, not from the presence of strength, but the absence of choice. There are no angels descending to bear me up. Nobody is coming to rescue me. I remember being asked many times just how I survived. Well, my fellow space cadets, It was either that or give up and succumb. You will amaze yourself with your own strength when you find no option to be weak. Life will knock you down, but you will not stay there for very long. Maybe you'll take a minute to cradle your broken heart, even cry a bit, but you'll get back up and fight like a man. Sometimes, it's either win or die. And like Jesse Ventura said, I ain't got time to bleed. Though certain things don't really care how much time we have, never giving the courtesy of waiting until we're ready. Is there truly peace so long as this heart beats? Nobody chooses to live in fear. Yet, sometimes the fear chooses us instead. Anxiety is the Chicken Little of mental disorders. It's like those zanies on the street shouting, "THE END IS NEAR!" It is a false prophecy just like a cult leader would proclaim. It is an irrational impulse cowering in the corner, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the sky to fall. It holds doom as close as a lover, magnifying it, even when it never existed at all. And when it's all over, it leaves you exhausted. Even when the worst was just a figment of your imagination, you still feel drained by a battle that never happened. It has no off switch. The only way to fight it is learning to trust yourself with whatever may happen. You should, you know. The upside is this it makes you more cautious than others. A random person is nowhere near as prepared as you are. I'll bet you've got the scenarios covered. Okay, Okay, Okay. Clean cup move down. I may gripe sometimes, But I have to say I am truly grateful for my life. You know? Axl Rose sang, "You came into this world alone." Not true at all in my case. I had two wonderful people to welcome me here. With me it's always like the tide, high and low. Glass half full, glass half empty, glass vaporized into subatomic particles. But even at my lowest moments, I am still grateful, especially to the ones who gave me life. I just wish I could have kept them around a little longer.  I am still learning. I am still growing (At least in a spiritual way).  You know... It's not much different than back in school when I did good on a test. You want them to know you actually listened. You want to make them proud. None of us really had a choice about being here. Still, I would want them to know I'm glad I am here. I'll have all eternity to not be here. This, my friends is my one chance. There's a lot on my mind today... Christmas past. New Years Eve past. Hell, the past in general. Who is still here and who is long gone, mostly those who had no choice. Maybe one who did. It's like a potluck stew, a little bit of everything. I think of Marsha, Momma, And Dad.. I well remember that last Christmas for all of us. Carol said it better than any words that I can bring to mind at the moment, last moment for we five. Now it's just we two. They sing about family and togetherness on Christmas Day. I find myself in the same place but in a very different time. Myself, and my three grown sons, making the best of it. This morning I cooked Christmas brunch as near to memory of how my mother used to. I think I did okay. It's kind of a high bar to meet, and maybe I got close. I can be happy with that. Now, I am going back and forth between making more demos for my old FPS games, and listening to my tunes. You know? Sometimes the lyrics of a song delivered in a soulful passionate voice can capture beyond those very words exactly how I feel. I also absolutely know from certain words when somebody else has been exactly where I have been, and have also somehow escaped that exact same corner of hell. I guess songs are like writing on the wall, "I was here" to the next poor soul to be relegated to that terrible place. I will say this with all my heart that nothing moves me quite like finding a spirit that totally gets what certain struggles are like. It is wonderful when somebody loves you, for even when they don't understand, they try anyway. But to have someone totally get what it's like (Even if you will never personally know them) is like harmonizing without need of voice, a feeling of home. Home is never just a place, but a time and of mind. Coordinates? Four dimensions, two horizontal, one vertical, one temporal. A place, a time, and people you love. Even a millionaire is a poor soul if he only comes home to a place. Even a poor man is rich beyond dreams if he comes home to someone who loves him: Mother, father, sister, brother, friend or lover. There is a big difference between walking into darkness or to a waiting light. I'd give myself to angels if only they would take me. Pick me up. Claim me. Name me. I belong to no one but the earth itself, merely of its substance, and of theirs. Of the stars or of the gods, I can't say, only that I'm here today. I'd give myself to angels if only they could see me, know me, show me the way, light a path for me to find, a gentle way to ease my mind, to know what is and shall ever be. Arms length, a beam of light. A way to go and a way to know. They are as diverse as we humans, for they too can shine in many ways. One was my guardian even in life. Then there were others who gave life to me. Then there is one who haunts the borderlands of my life, fading in and out of presence, remembering, forgetting. Sometimes, I wonder why they hang around. An afterthought? A curiosity? A novelty? Save for the guardian, save for the life givers, those special ones, the rest are all who like me, and none who love me. Do they watch to watch over, or do they watch merely to see, never to intervene? This thrill of free will is killing me. In a world mapped to millimeters, I still don't know where I stand. Angel for the Wie, Angel for the win, to try, to try, to begin again. 

It was absolutely beautiful weather for all of Christmas week, bright, sunny, and warm... Now, on this dreary Monday I can feel the temperature dropping. Pardon the expression, but It's gonna be ball bustin' cold by tonight. Balls Von Frozemovski. Well, at least it kept sunny and pretty for those five days off. It might as well be cold, bleak, and miserable while I'm back at work. It's not like I could go out and enjoy the day anyhow. So... The timing was actually awesomely wonderful. Lovely week off, but quite the bummer today. A zombie this morning, a zomcicle this afternoon. B-b-b-b-brains! That first Monday back after a solid five days off can be just a bit jarring. Plus, the 'ol brain wouldn't settle last night, so I am going on very little sleep. Yep, it's going to be a long day. Christmas was good, or at least as good as it can be under the circumstances. I spent it surrounded by my three sons. We had a nice brunch that I cooked in the very same kitchen as my mother had for years, that very same kitchen where sixteen year old me smugly, and quite stupidly told her I shouldn't have to learn how to cook. Hi, Momma. I think I've learned my lesson by now. As it were, I think she would have approved of what I cooked. I did a good bit of yard work the first couple of days. I eliminated a bunch of leaves. Now, maybe this coming cold snap will do better at killing the weeds. Your leaves can not save you now! I have also made excellent improvements on my games, both DOS and Windows. Especially Windows as it had been lagging in functionality behind my DOS version. The reason is that I mostly use Linux for my everyday computing. Flark Windows 11. Microsoft can use their own AI as a proctologist to examine their own asses. Maybe I should work on a Linux Games system next. I have also been recording gameplay demos for several of my old FPS games. I've been mostly successful, but desyncing demos suck. Redneck Rampage is the worst. The old man will dodge your bullets during playback when he didn't dodge them when you were recording. Now I understand what he meant when he said in the cuss pack that he was gonna flark me. No, not physically. He's gonna flark my demos instead. I did make two demos that actually play back correctly. J Clucks (the chicken factory) and The Nuthouse. Every other demo I tried ends with the old man ruining it. Well, in the gambling boat, it was that big dude with the shotgun. Otherwise, I've made a bunch of Duke Nukem 3D demos for both Caribbean and DC, made several demos for Monolith's Blood (Love that train level) and I successfully finished the Freedoom daily build demos. Next, I think I'll give Nam a try or maybe make another attempt at Redneck Rides Again. Either way, my hobbies have kept me well distracted from heavy thoughts for the whole five days. Heavy indeed. Always heavy this time of year. From Thanksgiving to New Years, absences seem colder, contrasting so many memories and their warmth and their brightness. New Years Eve, which I love celebrating, has its own dark side, for it was seventeen years ago that day I was abandoned by my then wife in a convenience store parking lot. (more on that in a later entry) Then the 23rd of January looms menacingly... This will make four years, Universe. It's a pain that never really went away. It's basically become the background of my emotions. Sometimes we forget what it's like not to be hurting. Sometimes it's cold. Sometimes it's bleak. Sometimes it's both. Suckuary in a nutshell. The calendar calls it the beginning. I call it the end, the ass end of everything. I am not a fan of Suckuary and I hope it goes by quickly, that it goes away and flarks off for another 12 months soon. Actually in all honesty, I wish it would just go to hell. I hate January and if it were a person rather than a month, I'd slug him one... Especially for my baby sister. January is a thief who stole someone precious from me. That I can not and will not forgive.... Not now. Not ever. Okay.... My words have gotten as bleak as Suckuary itself. The mad watch is two days slow for a clean cup move down. Moooove Dooooown!!! I have an idea. Let's change the subject. I guess I'll start putting together an end of year M-Disk. It will contain all of my latest greatest DOS and Windows games, my bookmarks, recent downloads, and of course the entirety of this blog in text format... 2.7 megabytes so far... If this is (one of those notes) it should be in the book of world records as the longest note ever. See? I can't leave yet if I'm still writing the note. Dark humor or darker logic? You decide. Epic Blog-ieos of history! Just like Kilgore said, someday this war's gonna end. All wars end. Visible and invisible, just and unjust, seen and unseen, in victory and in defeat. Sometimes in neither. Sometimes, for a single soldier. Some are remembered. Some are forgotten. Some with a medal. Some in dust. Not all who fight battles are in armies, yet even they might never come home again. 

You know? Some may find my writings to be weird, especially in the way I Segway to this and that subject or style or whatever. Touche'. To each their own. I for one find those weird AI apps that people use on their faces to be weird and a bit disturbing. There ya go. I freak them out. They freak me out. You have sank my battleship!