The No Fishing Sign (Sorry, Charlie!)

I saw a news article today about someone finding a live frog in a bag of lettuce at the grocery store. My first question is how did he not run out of oxygen? My first statement is Ribbit-ribbit, pour some ranch on me, ribbit-ribbit! The things poor Kermit will do to hide from Ms Piggy. Oh well. Subject change! Ribbit-ribbit clean cup! Ribbit-ribbit move down, says the frog! Then I saw a meme speaking the hope of living rather than merely surviving, something I speak of often. There was something my mother used to say. And I have to say it's true. Happiness just doesn't simply grow wild as if this were Eden. Just like in a garden, it must be grown, The ground tilled, the seeds planted, watered, nourished. Moments need to be created. Or that's what I believe. Though I will too say that it's much easier when you have a helper. And there is indeed a flower I wish would dwell in my garden. But if Eden indeed was the plan, then even that godly plan fits all too well among all the best made plans of all mice and men. Ah, the best made plans! Even the greatest cities have fallen. Not only did it take far more than a day to build the city of Rome, but Rome has fallen and has been rebuilt countless times. Speaking of the folly of we humans, I can understand why some of us have problems with (your and you're), or (there, their, and they're). But folks confusing through and threw really gives me a headache! Oh, English Language, the dear mother of all my thoughts, how it hurts to see you mistreated so! Woe to you, and oh woe is me! Otherwise, today has been all about plumbers, pigeons, and princesses. No, seriously! There was a pigeon wandering the factory floor. The plumbers are here to fix the work bathroom. The princess is just my princess.... It's a me, a Mario! It wasn't Bowser who kidnapped my princess, but the damned comforter packing department. And it would sure be nice if she could come back to my area. I needa the princess to rescue me, eh? Sadly, reality intervenes. Also, unlike Mario, I'm not on mushrooms. And I have enough problems without being harassed by blue smurfs and green leprechauns. The princess, however, is not an illusion at all. It's merely the 'my' in front of princess, that happens to be my own delusion. Yet it's a pretty delusion, almost as beautiful as she herself. It is a delusion of there being any hope, or any chance for me to have said princess in my life. Because reality happens to be one slow burn bummer, dude. What I wish for and what I know to be true couldn't be more different. And that's what I need to let go of, if and when I can. I guess even the kindest, most subtle rejection still stings and just makes me feel unworthy of anything resembling love. I tell myself that there is much more to life than love and belonging. Indeed, there are hobbies, distractions, and time wasting activities. But there's no such thing as wasted time in the presence of someone you love. In fact, such time will always be time well spent. What sucks is that time winds down on us all, loved or unloved, happy or unhappy, whether we appreciate it or not. It doesn't change the fact that we only get so much. Wasted or well spent, each day gone is a day less left to live. I don't know about you, but I'd sure like for this time that I do have to be something worth living, something worth remembering, a book with some good pages somewhere between the beginning and the end. Otherwise why read the damn thing at all? I am nobody special. I understand that. Still, it would be nice to feel as if I were. Call it a delusion, but it would be a nice delusion. And I could really use that right now. High tide, low tide, tsunami. There truly is such a thing as having too much time to think. I have done my best to keep myself busy, and it has helped some, but these heavy feelings have definitely returned. This is certainly not a good time to go scrolling in that social media vortex sinkhole of rage bait and depressing reminders of how far everything seems to have fallen. Not to mention all things wonderful that are so out of reach for someone like me. Nope. I think the good Doctor Blog-ieo would recommend that I pass on that today. Though I would like to find something to do that might lift my spirits a bit. Kicking the blues can be hard. And the Eric Clapton method is probably not a good idea. I guess I'll have to settle for getting out into the sunshine of this beautiful day. Do you remember when I said how a soul very much needs to know that they, too, are worthy of love? Yeah, that's one hell of a bummer. Outer friendzonia is one shitty place to be. And beyond that particular situation, I just don't have the courage to face the modern-day mess of meeting somebody else. I don't think the number of fish in the sea is the problem. I think the well to do mackerel living in a sunken pirate ship full of treasure has a whole gaggle competing for his attention. For him, it's going just swimmingly. For them, there's simply not enough good fish out there. For the good fish out there, most have to "fin" for themselves, unseen, 20,000 leagues under the sea, and out of every one. It's all a game and not a very fun one at that. Sorry, Charlie. Better luck next time. To me, it's just not worth the headache or the heartache or being made to feel, somehow less. So, these last few shreds of dignity and self-esteem I think I'll keep. But good luck, by all means to the rest of you. Go get 'em like Red Holland. Go figure. Go fish. Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Damn this human need! Is there not some way I could just purge it from my being? I would destroy it all in a heartbeat. I am so damn sick of this lousy feeling. This has just been a tough week for me. Not on the outside. I mean work was okay, but it sure has been a storm on the inside, and with all things, too, regarding my feelings for a certain someone who wants me to help her look for someone else. Has anyone ever been so deep in the goddamn friend zone as me? I mean, really! It must have been a shock, this first solid NO. It's not a word I have said very much in her presence. Like I said, I'd steal the moon if she asked me to. But, no, not this. So, that no may have cost me a friendship I have long treasured. I hope not. But, it's a thousand bridges too far. And a true friend who knows how I obviously feel wouldn't put me through this. If I am supposed to be Cupid, then I have bad news, My Angel. I fell on one of my own arrows while looking into your eyes. Well, can't be helped now. I love you. Though she has never been under any obligation to return these feelings, she doesn't need to crush me under them either. And it would hurt me more than I can stand to lose that friendship, even if it is less than what I truly want, and even that it may not be the best friendship, my part for feeling the way I do, her part for reading me so well. It's a flarked up conundrum that even the great Grand Admiral Thrawn-bot might be at a loss to figure out. Maybe this is truly the end. Or maybe that drama queen, Queen Anxiety, has taken over my thoughts. Damn, I hate the way this brain of mine works, these randomly firing neurons making it so I never needed drugs to go on a trip. She might be all smiles and everything forgotten. And Great God, that smile.. But never mind. I need to get her out of my mind. These next few days are going to be long, long, long. And so much of this is just in my mind. Really, as I have said before, this is my problem. These feelings I have were never a choice. But, damn, what the hell is wrong with me? Why can't I just drop it? Why can't I just dismiss them, put them out of my mind? Oh, I'm a good friend. There are a thousand things I would do for her that I wouldn't at all for anybody else on this flarked up planet. But now, she's finally happened on the one thing I will absolutely not do. Looking for someone? Found someone you have! As the stereotypical revolutionary French soldier said of John Ritter in "Stay Tuned", But of course, she's wanted, you fool! By a me! I admit it. It's jealousy. No doubt. You bet I'm jealous! Because, like it or not, I'm in love. I didn't choose to be. In fact, I wish I wasn't. These feelings have caused me nothing but pain. I would be so much happier without having them. I can respect the fact that she has absolutely zero romantic interest in me. I am not the type of guy who can't take a hint. At the same time, however, I don't want to be involved in any romantic quest that does not end with me. Baby, you're on your own. I'll let Yoda speak once more. Mine, or I will help you not! If you need help in finding me specifically, here I am. Wherefore art thou? Right here! Otherwise, no. I will not. I love her, and I care. Of course, I want her to be happy, even if it's not with me. But I can not be a part of that search. It is the mental equivalent of me kicking my own ass. Because it hurts me to be reminded again and again how it shall never be me. I can well take a hint, but I don't need to be taking an emotional ass kicking every day over it. I can take no for an answer. But I can't take no, but you're going to be involved as a matchmaker. No, no, no. I'm going to be like Paul Revere And The Raiders, What's it gonna be? Him or me? And I guess if that blows everything to hell, then I would have truly lost a friend. Though would a true friend be willing to put me in such a position? None of this is helping with this bout of depression I have been fighting of late. It seems the fastest way to feel alone is to really need somebody, anybody to say they care, and of course nobody ever does. At least give me an illusion. Just say you do. Tell me a sweet lie. I will believe it out of a very desperate need to believe it. These feelings will pass eventually. They always do. When that happens, I'll be back to my "I can be happy on my own" self. Until then, I need a bit of comfort and reassurance. Though I know I won't be getting any such thing. So, I will write and vent and vent and write and hope it's enough to get me through this storm. It is far from my very first, and I have gotten so much better at hiding it so I can be outwardly nice and stable in the real world. Otherwise I would really be in a mess, wouldn't I?. (You should have known me 40 years ago) (I really was a mess then) Though most of my progress is being better able to hide it from others. I really do project an illusion of being stable, steady, and reliable. Though I guess, outwardly, I really am stable and steady. Only I know what it's like inside this brain, so only I know just how totally flarked up I am. It would seem I'm being a grouch again. I don't mean to be. But life sucks, you know? It's this damn body of mine making me feel old, useless, and gross. And to think, the only direction is down and I have a long way to go down from here. Getting old is a cruel reward for spending a lifetime working and doing your best to do the right thing. My dear parents did not deserve what the years did to them. My father did not deserve to become a prisoner of his body. My mother did not deserve to become a prisoner of both body and mind. It was neither fair nor right. Of course they both believed strongly in the Christian faith, and maybe Jesus really did restore them both... If only I, too, could honestly believe. But I have said so many times where I stand, what I can do, and what I can not do. That aside, if two people ever deserved to go to heaven, it was my Momma and My Dad.... And my baby sister. If it truly is so, then my inability to believe is maybe the greatest tragedy of all. As I would be essentially slamming the door on ever seeing them again. Not out of pride, or a wish to be evil, but simply because I see the universe, where we are in it, infinity, eternity, yet even universes begin and end. But back to this body of mine... I feel like shit today. I feel unlovable. I feel almost like Jabba The Freaking Hutt. Though I ain't the fattest or the most flabby, I sure do feel that way. It just compounds these other feelings I have. It really does make me wonder the value of living. On some days, I am a-okay, and I can see value everywhere. But, today, I just feel lonely, unwanted, and unworthy.. And I can't see the value of a life that is just going to consist of wasted days. Why should I bother? Why should I fight? Why should I struggle? On days like today, these really do seem like legitimate questions. On days when I am in a better frame of mind, the fact that I seriously asked such questions is a bit on the scary side. It reminds me that this is not the bleakest day I ever lived through. I have seen worse, far worse. I have had worse thoughts than simply wondering why. There was a time when I had worked out what and how and was seriously debating on when. Then I realized the significance of such thinking and I had to make some heavy choices to pull myself out of that bad place.... Even if nobody could ever understand. You can never get away from yourself, but you can certainly try... You can discover aspects of your true self along the way, but there is only one way out otherwise. The body can be a prison, but the image in the mirror can be a surreal kindness. And none of this will ever make sense outside of my mind or the time when such thoughts were crucial for survival. I am alive today because I went just a little bit crazy a few years ago. Let's leave it at that. And now, after a lapse lasting a year or three, I am back. Well, mostly... I guess I'll never be exactly the same, hopefully better, but I'm back nonetheless... And I had help. I was sort of rescued, just not deliberately. But it still counts. And so, I am not in so dark a place these days. I guess that's what I need to remember. I have been through so much worse than right now. I really should try to be happy. It it really that bad? Is it? Of course not... I guess it gets lonely with so many lost and gone, and for the one I wish were here with me.. That's all. The Stones sang about how we can't always get what we want. I understand that. But didn't they also sing that we'll get what we need if we try sometimes? Then I guess it all comes down to determining between a want and a need. One can often feel like the other. So maybe, too, the question I must ask is just what do I need. Food, oxygen, shelter, a job, and a way of going... I have all of those. What else? Is to be loved actually a need? Well, I guess I am loved by whatever family I have left. Just no romantic love or any lover to be seen. And, like I said earlier, I'm not merely talking about sex. But no love? No snuggles or cuddles? No falling asleep to a heartbeat other than my own? I guess the fact that I am still alive after living without such things for a very long time means that maybe wants rather than needs. Still, say that to me on days like today when the loneliness is kicking my ass so damn badly. Go on and say this is something I merely want. There is a sort of peace I can't even remember, of being able to rest so completely in loving arms. Today there is no peaceful rest. There is only the collapse of exhaustion, and the hope of dreamless sleep. Want or need, I guess it all depends on how one defines each. To change the subject, I wish Mario and Luigi would hurry up on fixing that bathroom. Nobody should have to walk a long ass yellow brick road to see the wizard. The wizard? The wizard? But nobody can see The Great Oz. Not no way, no how! Alright, Green Dude, you're blocking my path! Don't blame me for what happens next! It's been hellacious, ladies and gentlemen. It has sure been rough. Rougher and tougher than both Mr T and John Wayne toilet paper combined! Complete with all the Ugh's and the Ahhhhh's, pilgrims! It's barely nine in the morning and I already just want to go home. But, we've all gotta do what we've all gotta do while hoping the remaining thirty percent is worth facing the seventy percent bullshit. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it's not. Though it certainly would be worth it all the time if I had a certain someone by my side. But as Conway sang, it's only make believe. Some days are longer than others. I do believe today qualifies as just that. It seems like forever and ever amen. January molasses would definitely win the race today. It's even gotten to the point where I couldn't resist checking the social media vortex. Oh and what did I find there amongst the religion and the politics? Ambulance chasing lawyers advertising civil judgments as if they were lottery winnings and damn gambling ads. Both should be illegal in all 50 states. With such a lack of care for harm, we might as well go back to advertising cigarettes, too. And gambling? Now, that's the most exploitive vice ever. At least with drinking you get a buzz, then a hangover. At least with drugs, you get a high. At least with sex, you get an off. But what do you get with gambling? Your money taken. Nothing else. Possibly your life ruined. These online platforms only progress and improve in sucking more and exploiting more. It truly is a vortex, a hell scape, a no man's land, a vast waste, a desolate place. There is truly nothing there. Not anymore. The golden age has long gone. Now comes the age of shit, and it seems to be going nowhere anytime soon. I guess the gambling ads even make a certain logical sense from these scumbag's point of view. They already exploit their users in every way they can. So I guess getting a few dollars more from a few sleazy, shady, online gambling places shouldn't be any more shameful than they already are proving themselves to be. Wouldn't your parents be proud? I guess if you're already in the mud, you might as well wallow. Can you say oink oink? I do find that the less time I spend on social media, the better I feel. It is not at all designed to help you connect to others. It is designed to exploit and to use you. A happy, healthy human being makes for a lousy customer. They want you to be a miserable money making machine. You are the grapes, and they'll squeeze you for the wine. They're like that alien from the movie "Lifeforce"... They're like the Sketsies from "The Dark Crystal." They profit and thrive from draining your essence. Connection is an illusion. Though, I too, have the bad habit of returning, myself. I will never delete this account because of the dear loved ones and dear friends still in this 'friends list' who are no longer here. Still, true friendship is not a list, not some photo with a few lines of text. True friendship and connection is a rare treasure to be cherished, that can never be harnessed by a faceless corporation. It can only be heart to heart, soul to soul. There are no artificial equivalents. It's either real or it never existed at all. And that's the bottom line even if Stone Cold didn't say so.