Hello, Universe, it's me.
It's another Monday, slowly killing time. I suppose time is slowly returning the favor. All we are is dust in the wind, dudes. As I am writing these words, it's April 6, 2026. I am looking forward to getting home today for more than the usual reasons. They're doing that flyby of the far side of the moon today. I am looking forward to seeing some cool pictures. It's the same old moon that has been falling around the earth forever, the same moon that will still be falling long after I hopefully find myself where you are now. (The only way I'll ever leave Earth) But it's that side we never see. I can't make the trip, but I can at least see the sights. It is ironic how the last trip to the moon happened before I was born, and now this current trip (more than a half century later) finds me to be just a bit on the old side. By all means, kiddos, go to the moon but stay off my lawn. I am really looking forward to seeing the pictures. I have indeed seen many pictures of the moon, but I have a feeling these will be the most awesomely detailed I have ever seen. This space cadet finally gets to see the far side of the moon. How awesome is that? Okay, from one Abraham Lincoln to another (or Napoleon if you prefer) between you and me and we three, this planet is a madhouse. You might escape to the moon for a while, but being built for earth gravity, needing food and oxygen, (sometimes other humans), not to mention being adverse to cosmic rays, yadda yadda Yoda <(- _ -)> means "Come back sometime you must! Wonder me this, wonder me that. Could it be the very reason once clear lines have turned into the fog that brings about ambiguity and confusion happens to be because those with perfectly clear agendas are stirring up the once clear water for the precise reason it blinds us to the truth? Just a random thought. The news is depressing as always. Some people truly believe they can change the world by taking its entire weight upon their shoulders. I don't. The truth is most of us are just along for this crazy ride. You can indeed move an entire planet, but you've got to be standing at the right place and at the right time. Most of us are not exactly there, and not exactly when. One has to wait. One has to look. One has to listen. One must have the power. Worrying and stressing over what is beyond your power leads only to self injury. The moment of action may only come once or twice in a lifetime. All I can say is to be ready, yet preserve your sanity and your strength until then. This is indeed the land of confusion that Phil sang about. I do my best to concentrate on what I myself can control, on what I myself can change. It's admittedly damn little, but I do my best with what I have. This has been one hell of a road, my friends, a long strange trip indeed. Life is a mofo and a half. Nobody has an exclusive in tragedy. Nobody has walked through decades of this life without encountering heavy loss and heavier pain. Still, that is no excuse for not being kind. I think such experience should make us more understanding, more empathetic, rather than cruel. To somebody having to take that same journey through hell as we once had to, we of all people should know what difference even a single word of compassion, caring, and encouragement can make. I do understand this pull of bitterness. More than I care to admit. But it is bitterness of bad luck and fate. Not of the people. Every soul has its trials. Every heart gets broken at least once. I have been through some heavy shit. I don't know how I made it through 2009, much less 2022 and 2024. This old heart has been shattered and taped back together so many times that I'm not sure how much is heart and how much is tape. Still, I find myself well able to love, well able to care. That's irony. The tougher the breaks, the stronger the love. There have been other effects. Fractures are the closest description I can come up with. It's like scattered light, different aspects, and different harmonics, but it's the same light. It's not multiple personalities, but maybe different versions of myself. I have a mind full of contradictory thoughts. It might be described as on that 1990s TV show, "Herman's Head," but with a major plot twist. Let's say it was like the show until one or more of these major traumas of recent years caused a surge that zapped all characters in that little room. Some of them got split into two characters. Some of them got merged into one. Some of the duplicates have serious opposing views. But, as with Herman, they're all still me. One of them is my original self that got zapped back to life like Frankenstein. The second was the self that replaced him. The third? That's the one trying to navigate the real world without exposing those two. Beyond that is the role or character I have to portray. That's the one who keeps all the bills paid, mind you. Important. A good part of the conflict is between one and two. Certain events of my life radically changed me. The first sees the second as a coping mechanism. The second sees the first as a ghost. The third is back and forth between diplomacy inside and image outside. And my role? Well, that's just the character I play in reality. It is we, but we are all me. Maybe the I truly does not exist. Or maybe this is all just a game I play in my mind to try and rationalize the mess that I am. As I have said, I have nothing but time, and I am nothing if not creative. There is neither figuring nor fishing on this one. It is just me as the good Doctor Blog-ieo trying to analyze myself. It is I as the Great Cosmic Wie, still trying to stay on course, and it is I, still at my very core, that one who does not fit this role at all. Does this make sense? No? Welcome to the club. The funhouse mirrors are on the left, all the definitions are on the right, and the airlock is right behind you. Now sign the membership book in front of you and go where you wish. Did you hear about the man who insured a box of expensive cigars, filed a claim, "destroyed in several small fires"? Yeah, they got him for arson. What the heck? I just saw a religious meme with (get this) Jesus on a riding mower pulling a wagon full of potato chips. A-wha? He delivers you from evil and sin. He also delivers the Pringles. Right to your door, apparently. What brought this on, I wonder? Did somebody say, "Jesus Christ, I'm hungry!"? Let me try. Jesus Christ, I sure need a girlfriend! [Looks around expectingly] [Sad Cosmic Wie noises] Send me an angel, send me one angel in particular. Nothing? Such is the way of this universe. You gotta love fate. You gotta love destiny... Even if they lead to lonely places... Okay, maybe you don't have to love them, but you've certainly got to live with them for whatever duration that you have left. I see a lot of beauty and wonder out in the universe, but I see no indication of grand design anywhere. If it were so grandly designed, then all good souls, all kind hearts would have somewhere to belong and someone to belong with. So there is no grand design, only chaos. Maybe beautiful chaos but still chaos. Getting older means waking up some mornings with a hangover when you didn't drink a drop. Maybe life is making up for younger days when I didn't wake up with one when I darn well should have. Related thought: Why is that particular sleep right before the alarm the absolute best feeling sleep ever? Ain't nothing better... Aside from good food and a-wha? I forgot. You know, I really could be a morning person if mornings happened around noon-ish. Yet I'm up and gone before the sun most every day. Such is the way (and not the only way) I must conform when I would really rather not. As I said, bills need to be paid. I would be totally unrecognizable if all these invisible barriers were to go away. The first would not be happy that the second was out and about for the whole world to see. But that's another story. It is also pointless since I see nothing changing anytime soon. Such is the role and such is the first. The word if makes all the difference. It is the divider between utopia and reality in a world where money for basic needs does not magically appear. The first and the role have to be in charge. The best thing to do is let it all be. It's just your shadow, you know. You can't disown it completely. There is ownership that must be taken. Repression beyond a certain point will always lead to rebound. I have seen this from others who went too far, implosion then explosion, the exact opposite of what they wanted to happen. The brighter the light, the darker the shadow. I am not speaking of the traditional metaphors of darkness and light. One's shadow is not necessarily evil. It's simply the self you do not wish to see or show, despite it being there all along. There is a better way. You must first own then properly channel your shadow. You must first acknowledge it. There are no secrets to be kept from yourself. There is only the difference between the person and the persona. There is only the difference between the one you are and the one you were. One can not change or improve upon what they refuse to see. Anyway, enough of this. Clean cup move down. This isn't exactly Wonderland, but I kinda wish it were. So, how does one glean happiness from a life of empty spaces? I fill it with hobbies and distractions. Gardening and working in the yard is one of them. It makes me feel like my parents are still around, that what they used to do still gets done, but through me. I still have my computer hobbies. I still find levels for my old games, though saving the pages has gotten a lot more difficult. Cloudfare sucks, ladies and gentlemen. Worst thing to happen to the internet since social media. I still enjoy building levels and making demos. And it's not complete isolation. I have a few friends. I have my kids. All in all, it's not a bad life. But it does get lonely sometimes, at least on those rare days when I'm not so content with my own company. Though I'm sufficiently awesome most of the time. It's the same story, always. Only the characters change. It does seem more have left the stage than have appeared again. It's the stadium emptying out in the last quarter of the game. Some leave by chance and fate. Some have left by choice. But most have been escorted out by that jackass with the robe and scythe. I have one hell of a bone to pick with that bony bastard. Still, in the midst of it all, I have managed to find and or create moments of near normalcy, of almost peace. I think too that a lot of my problem is expecting too much intelligence from the world. There is a big difference between a person and people. One person can easily be intelligent, articulate, a ray of sunshine, and a pleasure to communicate with. However, the more people involved, the lower the IQ goes. That's why I hate crowds. By the time we get to a planetary scale, things get really flarking stupid. There is no such thing as making the entire world understand. There is only being lucky enough to find a very few wonderful people, maybe even just one wonderful person who gets you better than anybody else ever could. As far as for the world, especially the online world, there is simply nothing worthwhile out there anymore. Just a bunch of meaningless noise and confusion. It's damn depressing if I think about it too much. So I should try not to. I do not feel lonely because there's no people around. There are people everywhere, too many people. I don't feel bored out of my freaking skull because it's too quiet, or that there's nothing to see. There is already way too much, sensory overload. It is just so very difficult to pick a song, a voice, out of noisy room. There is too much noise. Everybody has something to sell, a product, a political viewpoint, a religious belief, and they're all obnoxiously loud about it. And I don't want a damn thing to do with any of it. It's the same old shitshow that never stops. It's a freaking madhouse, and all I want is out. And I have sort of found my own way out. And it is called detachment. I find it absolutely necessary in today's world. To retain even a bit of sanity, one must detach and walk away from the bullshit. It is the only way. Believe me, you will miss nothing of any importance by doing so. Get out of Derry while you still can. Don't Clown around. Okay... Change of subject. The price of gas was $4.09 a gallon yesterday. If you will remember what I've said before, I don't care about donkeys or elephants. I only care about my bottom line. Thank goodness my round trip to work and back is only 14 miles, but still. And what's driving the whole thing is this phenomenon of not shutting up. No talk. Just do or do not as the old Jedi master said. Do or do not. And shut the hell up. I swear, every time this guy farts, they jack the prices up. So take some Gas-X while you're at it. Oh, and shut up, damn it! I agree with many of the policies, but that big mouth is costing me money. Clean cup move down. I can not force, nor would I want to, nor should I have to, anybody to be in my life or to acknowledge I even exist. I might not be the greatest show on earth (or even the greatest in town) but awesome enough not to want to perform for a captive audience. My door is open, but it's not revolving. And you won't see me asking, chasing, or begging to be a part of anybody's life. Far be it from me to say you're missing out, but you just might be. Another clean cup, ladies and gentlemen? Shall we move down? Times change. People change. I have seen and I have been through many things, many seasons, many times. As I look back through my current lens, it can be quite confusing. In the words of the Grateful Dead, it's been a long, strange trip, indeed. Lives can be shared, but be careful of what, and be careful of whom you include in the foundation of your life. Build together, but do not build upon, do not build around. Because if that foundation disappears, your whole world will come crashing down. And should that happen, be wary of need and vulnerability in the aftermath. It is a place I can not describe with words, but you'll know it when you're there. Do not make permanent decisions with scrambled thoughts, and a broken heart. These words have been brought to you by the letters W, T, and F. And by the number nine. Number nine? Number nine. Though two is not forgotten. Certainly not. Okay, do you know what time it is. What time? It's clean cup move down time! Any Futurama fans out there? If I were Phillip J Fry, I'd forget all about Lela and go for Amy. This actually happened in one episode, but Fry ruined it by being stupid. Fry was a dummy. If I were Fry, I would be head over heels for Amy. Lela no. Amy yes. Not even a question. Amy, Amy, Amy. Amy Wong, absolutely beautiful and super rich, too. Her parents own half of Mars, for goodness sake! But because Fry had to be stupid, Amy had to settle for Kiff. Amy for the win. Choose Amy and leave Lela to deal with Zapp Brannigan. I'm sure the Zapper would very much approve of my idea. That's an order, Kiff! Inform the men. When I can think of it, I might look up to see if there is any more Fry and Amy fanfiction out there. I only found one a few years ago and of course it was never completed. Too bad, because it was a good one. Like I said, Amy Wong for the win, Lela for Zapp. They truly deserve each other. Clean cup move down. Well, here I am in the midst of Michael Myers time, dragging by so slowly, still impossible to kill, trying to puzzle out this sudden wave of fatigue washing over me. What the hell, man? I feel like I could pass out instantly if I could only lay down. But I am several hours away from being able to do that. So, here I am, a zombie once more. Brains and all that jazz. That mental television snow is getting damn loud in my head right now, drowning out any real thoughts I might have. I feel like one of those poor lions on Mutual Of Omaha's Wild Kingdom, tranquilized, and out of it. Like, roar baby, what the hell hit me? I felt fine an hour ago. But, now? Wow, man. I wonder if this is how Tommy Chong feels? Dave's not here, man! Apparently neither am I. It is going to be a long four hours. It already feels like five thousand. It's hard work just keeping my eyes open, a job and a half. It's like somebody turned my power button off. Tell me, Tell me, do you prefer Zom A, or Zom B? Blame it on the rain in Spain that falls mainly on the BRAINZ! Hello, there! General Kenobi! You are a zonked one!
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