What do you do if you are on the ledge but you have to save someone else who is also on the same ledge?

 

Lately this question has been appearing more often that not in my life and personally I can no longer handle it. An Optimist would say that I am there to see that my problems aren’t as consuming as I thought. That I do have a greater purpose in life, as evident by my being there when someone else is in need. Blah…Blah…Blah. A Pessimist would say that I am there because misery loves company and boy am I miserable.  A realist would say “Who gives a fuck…are you going to jump or not, you’re holding up the line?”

I’m siding with my Realist nature. With each twist of life’s unending roads another pot hole awaits. Everyone is dying a little more each day and some of us are just wasting space… I am just wasting space. 

All I ever wanted was happiness. Never planned on the American Dream of a house, a husband (?), 2.3 kids and a dog… just happiness. A feeling which is just like trying to catch fire flies. See I’m afraid of all things which crawl (yes that includes babies…hahahahhaha). Anyway in my entire life I have never been able to catch one like other children, I’ve always hide in terror. For me happiness is just like that…I can see but I just can’t catch it.

Guess somethings were just never meant to be. So if you meet me on a ledge, just ignore me and deal with your own problems, ok? I’ll try not to hold up the line.

 

http://www.last.fm/music/Simply+Red/_/Holding+Back+The+Years

What if Cinderella never got to go to the ball?

Sometimes I get lost in my reverie and I think of oh so many things to “talk” about. 

I feel the need to continue with The Christmas Vixen. Or to delve into the spiral of heart ache my brother is going through. Or to speak on how my own heart hurts from longing. But instead I shall tell you of the sequin gown.

 

My mother used to work at the Main Post Office when I was little. This was the hub of all things postal and was the largest building I had ever seen. There were so many sorting machines and package handlers, so many tubs of letters and bags and boxes of all sorts. To me it was like being in a giant toy factory…it held all the wonders of a small girl with an extremely vivid imagination. I was in heaven.

My Mother would tell me all these stories of people I would never meet and of things I could never understand. She would tell me of all the “characters” she worked with and I would imagine they were truly wonderful people. I would hear of the card games they played while sorting mail and the practical jokes they played on supervisors. She would tell me of the drinking that was done on window ledges with the bright lights of the city dancing around their drunken haze.  I knew who was having affairs with who and who was pregnant as a result.

Yes, I was but a little girl but I was also my Mother’s confidant. She told me all the things she never had anyone else to tell. Then one day she told me of this one woman who would wear sequin gowns and high heels, just to sit on a stool and sort mail for 12 hours a night. No one ever asked her why and she remains an anomaly to this day.

As I grew older, my Mother would continue to share the strange tales of the night and the players would often change but I always wondered about the woman and her sequin gown.

 

Well one day recently I begin to understand why she probably thought it made sense to wear her fancy dresses to a dusty warehouse in the middle of the night.  She felt as I do…where else would she go? I think that she too, felt like life held no joy… no love… no amusing times. So she gave in to her loneliness and donned her fancy dresses for the only party she knew…work.

To this end, I too have decided to wear my best clothes whenever I can. I have all these dresses I bought to go places I never go, with someone I do not know.  I have things with tags still attached, some are years old, hanging around collecting more dust than memories.  So I too shall wear my “sequined gowns” and maybe one day someone shall tell their child the story of me…I can only hope I remembered by someone… somewhere.

 

http://www.last.fm/music/Corinne+Bailey+Rae/_/Till+It+Happens+to+You

The Alpha and the Omega

I’m not sure if I have spoken much of my brother but today I shall.

My little brother is 5 years younger than I. He was born in January (the Alpha) and I in December ( the Omega), and while we are not polar opposites we see the world through vastly different eyes.  Or so I thought, until today.

See my Brother has 8 children. I’ll let that sink in a moment…

Yes, eight additional mouths to feed (well 7 now, the oldest son just enlisted in the Navy).  His wife (and I use the term loosely just as she is), has the mental capacity of well…sadly I can think of nothing as useless as she is.  Nonetheless she was able to convince my less than worldly Brother to marry her and raise her 3 daughters, have an additional daughter and adopt 4 brothers. She is one of those “schemer” types, always looking for ways to “get” money while actually doing no degree of work. But I digress, this is not about her.

This is about my Brother.

My Mother called today to share the latest in the continuing saga of my Brother’s marriage. Yesterday he told her that he “is in love with another woman”. Now you’d have to know my Mother to know why this is the WORST thing he could have ever said to her.

My Mother is very much like me, in that we are both bitter about life. For her, one must ALWAYS do as society expects once they start down that road of “normalcy”. In her eyes, she should simply have an affair with this new woman (whom apparently he has been seeing for a while) and maintain his family. He, however is pondering a divorce (which has been a resurfacing theme since the day of their courthouse wedding). My Mother, as is her way, layed on the guilt hard & heavy. “You have 8 children, you’re going to ruin their lives and your heart will never have a moments peace”, blah blah blah.  She added her usual message of true love, ” Love only last about 7 years and the rest is just responsibility and obligation”. I listened intently (something we all know I try not to do) because I’m wondering if I were in her place what would I have said to him.

I’m remembering the joy I felt when my Parents divorced because the fighting was over. I’m remembering the pain I felt at never having my Father in my life (even to this day). I’m wondering how I would have different if they had stayed together. But mostly I am wondering if he is happy when he is with this other woman.

See my Brother, as far as I’ve been told, has tried to maintain a “damage-free” household. And by that I mean, he has tried to remove all the things he thinks damaged us as children. The kids, half of which are teenagers, are not allowed to date (we never did either, but whatever), they cannot play with toys of a war nature (i.e., no water guns, no violent video games). My Brother & his wife use no profanity, do not drink (both our parents are by all accounts alcoholics), do not partake in any sort of recreational drug use (her mother is a homeless crack head, literally) and they monitor every phone call, internet usage and text message any child sends or receives…madness.

But one day my Mother told me he had begun to drink heavily, I wondered the cause but assumed it was just the pressures of his family that lead to this. Now I can’t help but wonder if this was an attempt to drown his pain (like so many others). I wondered if I should have reached out to him and talked to him about it all, hell I wonder if he would have even wanted to talk to me. I honestly believe that he thinks I could never understand being that I am childless, Lesbian, and single. But sadly it is because of these things that I do understand all too well.  But again I digress…this is not about me.

This is about my Brother.

After talking to my Mother I decided to leave him a voice mail, giving him my unsolicited two cents. I told him I do see Mama’s point, if he leaves things will never be the same again for him or any of them. I said that I know what it’s like to be caught up in what you believe is a better situation, that “the grass is greener” hysteria. I know what it’s like to give up everything you know for what is unknown. But that while for me, it was the only regret I will ever have in life…I gave up the only woman I will ever truly love. But that my heart says, “Do it!” anyway. Life is hard and one should always try to be happy at some point in their life as long as they are willing to accept the consequences.

 

I don’t know if he listened to my message. If he did, I don’t know if he understood what I was trying to tell him. Which was that I want nothing for him but to experience life, learn from his mistakes and be happy with himself.

I wonder if he will ever see that…. I never did.

http://www.last.fm/music/Melody+Gardot/Who+Will+Comfort+Me/Who+Will+Comfort+Me

What happens in Vegas, does kind of stay in Vegas……unfortunately.

It just sort of came to me. I wasn’t looking for it, but there it was… the meaning of life. And yet, now my life has no meaning at all.

I shall explain.

{As a loyal reader I’m sure you remember the characters at play… as such I shall not explain them.}

The Ex and I were headed to our very 1st (and my only) real vacation. One that we had planned & saved for. We were going to Vegas. Unfortunately for me I spent the week before in bed sick as all out hell. Did I go to the doctor? If you’ve ever read any of my musings before… you already know the answer. Anyway, if you also recall (I think I have mentioned it before), for some peculiar reason I am very prone to untreated ear infections. {aside: Did you know they can drive you insane?}Well during the time I was ill with like the flu or something I also developed an ear infection. But I was determined I was not missing my vacation. Ever flown with an ear infection? DO NOT DO IT!!! You will die… I think I did.

Well anyway, we made it to Vegas and we were having the best time ever.  As it happened one night she went to sleep (and as she snores like a wild beast), I could not. So I sat there in the dark, with the curtains fully open staring at the lights from the strip and watching the dancing waters of the Bellagio. I had had no alcohol, no drugs of any sort and while watching my beloved (*sigh*) sleep…the meaning of life came to me.

I came to understand that “this” is what we all seek…completion. No, I’m not saying that everyone needs someone to “complete” them. What I am saying is that we all seek a certain degree of oneness. It may come in the form of education, religion, children, marriage, enlightenment, conservation or simply via career choice. For me this was it.

While I fully admit I was never the “jumping up & down” type of happy, in my relationship I was as happy as I thought I could ever hope to be. For me, she was my equal if in no other way…mentally which I have truly come to miss more than I can explain.  Yeah I may have been hallucinating from my illness, jet lag & lack of sleep, but I still remember looking at her sleeping form and crying because I finally understood what true love was and I knew I could love anyone or anything as much as I loved her.

 

You so can imagine the dismay I still hold to this day at being shown that this was not the case. These days she has resorted fully back to her old ways of church and small town upbringing. She speaks differently now, in style and inflection. It’s like the past two years that we have been apart have completely erased the previous 11 years we spent together. It’s like I was a Svengali and she but a willing participant. I must have held some mystical power over her that forced her to change everything, things she was not willing to change but was nonetheless compelled to.

There are simply no words to impart upon to you the sadness this brings me. I prided myself on always allowing one to be as they are. But alas, pride cometh before the fall and trust that my fall was not without injury, if but to my heart.

 

Have you ever seen a dead body up close?

Me either.

But I imagine the look I see in her eyes now is like looking into the eyes of the dead. They cannot recognize you…for they are no longer there.

A pause from your regularly scheduled programming……

You know what’s the most horrible part?

 

Having no one in your life that you can talk to.

 

Yes people always talk to me… tell me all their problems, issues, concerns, wants, needs, etc. But no one ever stops to actually listen to me. Whenever I try to tell anyone about how I feel or what’s going on with me, they somehow turn it around to them.

Yeah, I let them.

I figure what’s the point in fighting them.

But my lonliness is a demon I simply am too tired to fight. I wake up everyday and put on my “happy face” and I just go about the motions and as long as I do, no one even notices my pain… no one even cares.

What do I expect from them?  I don’t expect anything I guess…I just want to know that if I stopped putting on my “happy face”, someone might notice.

 

I honestly don’t think anyone every would.

 

I guess it’s like I always tell Mama…people have their own problems and they simply have no room to see other people’s.

The Christmas Vixen

Let me tell you of the vixen I met on last Christmas morning.

To me she was truly something to come out of my fog to see. She was no great beauty, but she had a charisma I had not experienced since I “gave away” my wife. I could tell she was young, maybe that was what drew me to her… I could not be sure. All I knew was that I wanted to know her but I had no idea how.

Well me being me, many many months went by and with only a few precious and fleeting glances betwixt us.  I never let on my intent and she never offered a glimmer of hope. To her I was like any other customer… a series of purchases and nothing more.  However, this was about to change.

I received a voice mail from my Mother one lone night and in it she expressed to me her desire for me to not be alone. As is the way of mothers, she just wanted me to be happy. On this message she said, ” A man who does not take a chance, is a man who does not have a chance.” Normally these drunken ramblings of my Mother mean nothing to me, I am jaded to them now. But something about this one was different… inspiring I might actually say. 

With the statement becoming quite the mantra reverberating in my head, I made my way to the store where I hoped to see my Vixen. My thought was, maybe I’d say something this time…. maybe. I circled the store several times without so much as a hint that she was there. Finally I decided I had loitered long enough, gathered my meager purchases and headed to the register. As I stood, as usual, lost inside my own head, I again heard her voice. This time she wasn’t speaking to me, but was actually on the phone near me and all I could do was stare at her longingly as she ordered a pizza. And when she walked by me, I made no attempt to hide the fact I was mentally filming her every move. (Later it was said that I was watching her like I wanted to have her right then and there.) But I froze, what could I say? So I made my purchases and left. All my way home, I thought of my Mother’s words & how I had probably lost my only chance.

What if I never get another chance? What if she actually like me too? (No she had never actually done anything to make me think so.) I couldn’t let it go. So I called the store back and told the male manager to please give her my phone number.

WHAT HAD I DONE???? I could not undo this latest bit of madness and I immediately regretted it. Now I could never shop that store again.

But things actually got wayyyyyyyyyyyy worse than that.

Let us begin where we ended………

It was a dark day… Christmas.

While the rest of the world was huddled with the warmth of their family, I was alone.

I was as alone as one can be. No one to care for my where abouts, no one to even care if I was alive or dead. But still I carried on. I did not know what else to do. I was tired physically, emotionally and my soul cried as it is want to do.

The world was ensconced in the bright, flickering lights of happiness and love. But I was encased in the dark matter that is my own private world. Each step I took, merely a memory my body held on to in the hopes of finally being comfortable in the rut my path had become.

It was the Holidays…but there wasn’t even a lump of coal for me to lament over. No one remebered me and the happiness I thought I had once given so freely to them. I was just…there. My heart too weak to muster a mornful wail…but still I carried on.

My mind was lost in the pity party my heart was giving that it wasn’t invited to and I wandered in to “her”. As the world moved around me like the snow in a Winter Wonderland snow globe…”she” brought me into focus.

There before me was a voice…talking to me.
To me?
As I stood there, the voice continued to engage me… wait…. engage….ME?
Yes, “she” was talking to me and I peered out from the Lost and Found box that is my life…to actually see “her”.

I was like toys in Salvation Army bin…hoping for someone to want me but expecting to just be shelved and dust covered until deposed. But there, from the twinkle covered world, “she” stood…talking to me.

“Her” smile like water to my dried heart…refreshing, “her” voice a song my soul never knew…but longed to never forget, “her” eyes smoldering like the embers of a passion my body longed for…but believed never possible.

I could still hear “her” in my dreams but I knew “she” would never sing for me . “She” brought to me the longing of a dying woman… “she” made me ache with the need of her but I knew “she” was gone from me and on to another more deserving soul…

“She” was hope and I am just a hopeless romantic seeking a hopeful one….and “she” is not seeking me…………………………….

My Dear, Dear Followers…..

As of late I recieved a few email and comments concerning my where abouts. I am, sadly, still among the living although more than a bit worse for wear. I am even more alone than I previously was and more pessimistic than one might think possible. 

Maybe I will continue to write… as there have been some changes in the players of my life. But for now, I shall thank you to all those who missed me and keep checking I just might return.

Goodbye………

Thank you to all who read.

Have a better life than me…good bye.

Remember…

It is not better to have loved & lost then to have never loved at all….at least you can never miss what you never had.

Things could always be worse…and for someone, it probably is.

Another year has rolled by and I am alone as usual. I digress, I am not just alone…but I am lonely. Funny thing is, one day last week a woman at work was talking about those of us who live alone. According to her logic, by living alone “we learn more about ourselves…we have time to think”.

Well here’s what I have learned… I have learned that the longer I am alone, the more critical I become of others. While I used to talk about people, it was with my ex and we would laugh as we said crazy things..well since I have no one to talk to, my comments are being more mean and less amusing.  I no longer envy people with their “loved ones”, now I see them as wasteful heathens with blatant disregard for anyone but themselves.  I have learned that having someone to talk to is not important if the TV works, besides they would probably not want to hear about whatever I’m whining about today.  I have learned that if given enough time, I could in fact pluck every single hair from my body. Trust me, on this one….I’ve tried and there is never enough time. I have learned that I eat an exorbitant amount of cereal… I think I single-handedly keep soy bean farmers afloat. I have learned that the things I have learned are stupid….I would rather live with someone who loved me as I loved them, with all my heart and soul. But since they do not exist…I have learned that my life still sucks.

 

 I have, however, started the wheels of my bankruptcy in motion. No, I am still not ok with it..but it’s not like I have a choice. The nice lady I spoke with made it seem like all would be right in my world soon, but 5 years is a long time….so we’ll see.
As is standard, I will be at work for the Holidays instead of with my loving family. Oh wait, what loving family? Hell, for that matter what family? Don’t get me wrong. I know I am blessed (as I’ve stated many posts before). Right now there are so many millions without jobs or homes or a prayer. Right here where I work, there so many people without any sort of “good” in their lives that it would break my heart if I still had one. There is a woman who just found out she may have colon cancer,  another woman whose husband may be dying, a woman who used to work here is currently in the hospital, and of course “her” father is dying (again).  So I understand that my problems are minuscule in the grand scheme of problems, but nonetheless they are still there, so whatever.

 http://www.last.fm/music/The+Emotions/_/What+Do+the+Lonely+Do+at+Christmas

Whatever……..

Somewhere since my last post I got older. Mostly it went by unnoticed, my birthday dinner was a cheeseburger and a slice of carrot cake and I slept most of it away. I got a few cards from my Mother and my ex gave my a movie and an electric blanket (everyone knows I keep it cold in my house ) and few people at work cared enough to surprise me with a cake . I was glad to know that someone remembered me for a change…it actually made me feel special.

But I was quickly brought back to reality.

In previous posts I stated how I had no choice but to file bankruptcy. Well before my birthday I had gone to do just that. It did not go as I had hoped. In fact the lawyer I met with turned out to be the most racist bastard I had ever had the misfortune to encounter. Now I am an advocate for people not liking everyone… people have the right not to agree with everything…it’s OK. However, when one is in a position to work with different people, especially in this capacity one should be able to put their preferences aside…I guess that was asking too much.

Well anyway so I way faced with really having no idea of what to do. “She” was of no help to me, because in essence she didn’t think it was worth it to help me in spite of all I had done for her. There is still part of a tree in my front yard that she was cutting down for me and now I have a half finished bathroom floor she was doing for me. I guess it’s just too much to hope that someone will do for me as I would do for them. So whatever…karma will take care of her.

Then I again asked my ex if she would move in with me. She, too declined, I guess her reasons are still the same: lack of trust, lack of concern, and just general moving on with her life.  I mean it’s not like we had a history together or anything, it’s not like I thought we had that kind of “The Notebook” love or anything…whatever I guess this is my karma.

 

Well today I go to speak to another lawyer, this time I am going alone, which is how I learned I must travel. See I have decided to make a New Year’s resolution for myself. Since being with me is worse than eating broken malaria infested glass, I have decided that I will try my best not to care…I doubt anyone will notice.

 

We’ll see how this works out…

But I’m A Repulicrat…Damn It! Where’s MY bailout?

Today I peered into the mouth of the Beast…and it was not good. Not good at all.

Remember those housewives of the fifties? They were stoic, with impeccable taste they held their perfectly coifed heads high. Their lipstick was never smudged as they made a family each and every day as perfect as the day before. If you remember them, then you also knew they were a as real as their tinsel Christmas trees in their Ranch style homes with the station wagon in the driveway. They smiled to the world while they took all sorts of barbiturates behind closed doors. Their husbands drank and had mistresses and their children were budding anarchists and killers in the making. In essence, these women did what they thought they had to.

I was to do the same.

I am a reader, of people and of words … and neither one very well. I knew bankruptcy was my only option but as I was still fighting the inevitable I tried one last stand. After reading many stories of people in similar situations and speaking with those who had experience where I had only questions…I came to a decision. I would attempt to impart unto “her” that we were long past what I wanted in a relationship. We had reached what I needed in a relationship…and what I needed was money.

I had resided myself to do what I had to do to survive. I knew that meant giving up who and what I was, to become who and what I needed to be. I was going to have to become as those fifties housewives….amiable to her whims and ignorant of my own. I was going to have to learn to accept my fate, such as it is and deal with whatever madness she threw at me. I had to…my livelihood…my house was is at stake.

I gathered up my reserves and asked her to move in with me. I explained my financial status and why I had waited so long. She knew I was not the type to arbitrarily ask for help, so if I asked I was long past needing it. Well as is with such things, she was willing but she had just signed her new lease after much delay. Here I was trying to save myself and ask for someone to throw me a rope and apparently all the ropes had been burned up in a fire.

Oh well, it won’t be so bad, right?

I mean when they come to take my house I can always move in with my Mother. Plenty of forty year olds live with their parents, right? There is no shame in that. What a joyous day that will be? Hooray, maybe we could get Food Stamps too.

http://www.last.fm/music/Nina+Simone/_/I+Wish+I+Knew+How+It+Would+Feel+to+Be+Free

I never wanted a white picket fence..and I never got one either.

I very long time ago I  knew a woman, I use the term woman loosely because she had aspirations of becoming a FTM, even then no one referred to him as a a “she”.   He was a lot older than I and had lived quite a life before I met him. He wasn’t the most stable person around and illegal substances were his method of coping. I wanted to learn more about him… find out what him who he was. He knew how to keep a secret, something few people can do effectively these days…yes even me.  But he had dreams of owning a BMW and becoming a Security Guard, dreams I couldn’t understand or even fathom.

A Security Guard…dream? This made no sense to me.

Here I was thinking I was going to be the next Dr. Ruth or something and I had goals of having a loving family, a large home, multiple pets and driving a Jaguar. I went to College for heaven’s sake (several in fact)…he didn’t even have a GED.  He spoke of past jail time and I spoke of past vacations. He told of wine, women & song and I talked of the sex I’d read about volumes of literature. His past was dark like the secrets he hid in his closet…cold and away from peering eyes. My future was a bright as my view of the world…open & new.

In my world there were never two more different people than us. I considered him a failure… even his “dreams” were beneath me.

Now fast forward the more than 15 years it has been since I last saw him.

Our lives, I’m quite sure took extremely different paths. I even saw him once or twice in a crowd at a gay club and he was still the same as I remembered. You know, the “loner type”, wouldn’t even make eye contact, but I knew he saw me… watched me even. 

Many years later I wondered what became of him. Did he ever get that job or that car? Did he succumb to the drugs he loved so much?

I never found out. But you can rest assured, he held on tight to his dreams no matter what ever happened…wish I could have said the same.

Oh how wish I could have said the same.

http://www.last.fm/music/Simply+Red/_/A+Song+for+You

You are just as unique as everyone else…and like them, you will die alone

Yeah it’s been a minute….

I hope you had at least the chance to see some turkey for Thanksgiving…maybe even had the chance to share some time with those you care about and/or love dearly. I spent it where I spend all my days. No, not laying on my living room floor crying…I was at work crying (so there ).

See this year Thanksgiving fell on a pay week. “HOORAY, you say…you can go Christmas shopping!!!” NOPE, I say!! Besides I don’t “do” Christmas {look it up….it’s in March..for goodness sakes}, I had so little money I had to take all the money out of my “piggy bank” and my meager Savings account and there are still bills that will go unpaid.   {Did I mention we got a raise on this check?} Also it’s my ex and my Mother’s birthdays next week. So things just keep getting better!   I know most people don’t see the problem here, but for me this is a MAJOR problem. I may forget to pay something, but I never purposely “forget” to pay something. I mean I’ve had nothing but change (less than $1.00) in the bank before but that was always after all my bills had been paid and I had food to eat. Not this time.

[The irony? My mother always said I was the responsible one. I never shirked my responsibilities, and look where it got me? Alone and broke.]

Whatever…………………………………

 

Thanksgiving much like every other holiday of late…………sucked maggot infested roadkill on the sunny side of the street.  My mother spared about 3 minutes to tell me I was working too much and should enjoy life, while simultaneously telling me about all the people who wanted to spend the holiday with her. I was too drunk and too busy crying myself into a coma to really even care. Oddly some people at work offered to bring me food since I didn’t have a family. Not surprisingly, no one came through (except my Ladybug..we ate Subway sandwiches ). I didn’t expect anyone to bring me anything anyway….every time they offered I would say “Well I don’t want you going out of your way or anything…if you happen to remember me I’d appreciate anything you brought me” and they would say “Oh it’s no trouble, I’m eating too, so I’ll bring you something”. Well I guess they ate everything….no one thought about me. My ex, didn’t even offer…guess she too could have cared less.

Whatever……………………………………………………

 

And “her”? Well technically she’s MIA. She’s been missing from work and no one knows where she is. I do know she was still alive as of yesterday…she sent me a text.  Her usual ramblings of madness & mayhem. She went to see her family, who if I am interpreting her message correctly (one never knows with her) weren’t so thrilled to see her. Personally I don’t blame them, but still it was a holiday and she is their sister….but I don’t know, And right now, I don’t care.

Whatever………………………………………………………………………

 

So it has been decided. Life has finally beaten me to within an inch of my life. I am officially going to figure out how to file bankruptcy and try to at least get it started while I’m off for my birthday. This December marks my 20 year anniversary since I got my very first credit card. I’ve had lots of ups & downs since then. I’ve been unemployed many many times, gone through a couple surgeries, a couple of exes and now after all this time of constantly trying to beat the statistics of Black people with bad credit… I am done….I am just another face of the masses.

Whatever………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

http://www.last.fm/music/Coldplay

*I remember when I used to rule the world……….”*

I do live across from The Lake…But is this a Cape Fear re-make? If so…no autographs, please!

I haven’t been writing for many reasons, but mostly because the people I care about, no longer wish to hear me whine (and yes, in so many words…they said so). So I funneled my pain into poetry (for better or worse). I used to fancy myself a budding poet, but the meds took my creativity away…my pain, however, was too deep and bleed through the pills, so I wrote.

 

Well anyway some things are different now…so again I post.

 

“She” is gone. No not again…but for the last time. Things are different now….now I am afraid, so she will never return. Why, you may wonder?

 

I shall explain.

 

If you recall from previous posts (assuming you have read them), you recall “the engineer”. Well when things went south and strange people started to show up at my door I was “shaken”, not so much afraid as I was worried.   I turned to the only person I felt could relieve me of my apprehension (?)…”him”.  He knew these people, he could stop them. Boy, was I wrong. Nonetheless they went away. 

 

Then when I became afraid of him, I thought my ex would help me. But again, I was assuming and we all know what happens there. Well she never asked me what happened, but “she” did. So I placed my trust in “her” to protect me from him should I need it.

 

But who would save me from “her”? Honestly I never thought I would need it….but like Life Insurance, you never do until it’s too late. Well in the time I have known “her” there have been numerous times I thought, “Man you are insane!” But it never crossed my mind that one day I would become one of the women she spoke of who “hit the floor, when they saw her truck pass by”. Now I kind of am.

 

No, she hasn’t “done” anything to warrant this. Other than constantly use my worse fears and severe low self-esteem to foster me constantly taking her back, then emotionally abusing me to the point I feel my vital essences seeping out my ears like earthworms after a fresh rain.  But now, based on a variety of seemingly off-handed things she has said, I have become paranoid. Yesterday morning, I had to go home alone after she was supposed to have taken her things and left. Alone. I say this again because it’s important. I had no idea of the state of my home when I arrived. I had no idea if she would still be there or not. Based on things she said, I had every thought that she would be there, just not “there” (if you see where I’m going). I fully expected to walk into a “war zone”. I asked my ex to go with me, but then I thought about it. I felt bad for expecting her to be there for me, so I told her never mind…I would go alone. I guess I just wanted her to “want” to be there for me. I wanted her to see that if I asked…obviously I was afraid. 

 

Of course, she didn’t…so I went alone. Yes, I was terrified, but it was then I knew without a doubt that I can only count on myself (just like I always said, but never wanted to accept). So after shakingly {yes, a new word…feel free to use it } buying new locks I made it home, and much to my surprise everything was intact and she was completely gone. I then changed the locks on my house and after working briefly, I spent all last night constantly checking & re-checking every door and window making sure they were locked.  Yes I do have an alarm…not the point at all.

 

Fear is a powerful entity and her nails dig deep… … but she is all I have now.

Irony

I always said I would never fight for anyone,

Never force anyone to stay with me if they wanted to go.

I think people thought I was unfeeling,

That I never loved them, but this wasn’t so.

 

I just wanted to be the one they fought for

I just wanted to be the one they would never forsake

No one ever fought for me however,

I guess they just thought loving me was their mistake.

 

To this day I have many regrets

Me, who said I would never have any.

There was one great love I should have fought for

She was the only one of whom love, I will always have plenty.

 

Each time I see her my heart breaks a little more

When she speaks to me I try to memorize her every word.

I know she is gone from me forever,

Nothing can ever fill this void caused by pain’s sword.

 

All I have now are memories

Of  a love that can no longer be.

All I have are scars from the fight I never fought

Oh, what irony.

Blood of Glass

My soul is in such pain that I often wonder….

If I slit my wrists

Instead of blood

Would shards of my broken heart fall out?

 

The Haunted House

I hear strange sounds, “maybe it’s just the wind”

But I can hear the moaning and the creaking floor boards of the pacing foot steps,

Someone is in here.

“Hello?”, no one answers back.

But I can still hear the faint sobbing,

It sounds like it’s coming from the walls.

“Maybe there is an animal stuck, maybe I should call someone.”

I walk all around, it seems to be following me.

“How does it know where I’m going?”

“It must be behind me!” I turn quickly…but there’s nothing there.

But the crying is unmistakable and the room feels cold.

I pass by a mirror and catch a glimpse of it.

“What was it?”  ”Where did it go?”

“Hello, is someone there?”, I say again into the dark abyss.

“I am no one and nothing”, a voice answers back.

“I am no longer alive as my days have long passed.”

“Do not fear me, I can no longer harm you”, a weakened voice says.

“Why are you here?”, I ask, frightened by this presence.

“I have no where else to go. I have no one who needed me, no one who loved me…no one who misses me.”

The tears start to pour forth like lava from a volcano, heavy and hot.

They fall from my face and become steam even in the cold room.

Now I know who my ghost is….

I do not need to look at it to know it’s name.

The sounds of lost love echo from wall to wall, the pain resonates like a jack hammer… constant and piercing.

I have been haunting my own house,

A house where love no longer lives

Where pain has taken up residence

And suffering is my only companion.

If you listen quietly, you too can hear the sounds of my Haunted House.

Heart Rain

“Where does the rain come from?”, she asked so innocently.

I could tell her of the Cumulonimbus clouds,

I could tell her of pollution and chemicals,

I could tell her of the ways of nature and rebirth,

Or I could tell her the ways of a broken heart.

“I do not know”, I say

“But my cheeks are always wet.”

Lost and Found

I get in the car, slam the door shut.

Where am I going?

No one knows…no one cares.

I’m speeding thru turns, racing over hills.

I’m looking for her…

The one who knows my hopes & dreams,

The one who loves me for me.

I lost her on a Tuesday

Or maybe it was a Friday.

I can’t remember when,

But I remember her kiss

I remember her eyes,

And I remember her tears……

She has someone else,

Someone else is learning her eyes,

Learning her kiss.

Why was I searching for her again?

She doesn’t wish to be found.

With My Heart In My Hand

Once there was a girl I loved more than life itself.
 I will never know if she loved me the same way,
I think the universe never had the plan that we would die still together.
 But I love her still the same.
One day she went on with her life
She never looked back…
She knew I would be standing there…………
Still waiting….
With my heart in my hand.

One day someone will listen…just not to me, for as I have nothing else to say.

There are few people in the world that I really love enough to like. Trust me, I could count them on one hand. I’m just one of those kind of people. You know how people go around saying “this person” is my friend and “that person” is my friend? I don’t even do that… never have. Friends have always been closer to me than family, so I do not take them lightly. Just because you know my name and I may speak, doesn’t make us friends. Friends are people I would give both kidneys to without hesitation. Well today a woman whose opinion of things I value…one of my friends, told me that I should try to make it work with “her”.

For a millisecond I was stunned…what the hell? How could she say that? Why would she say that?

 

Then like the rains during Ike………I was flooded.

I guess a brick wall did have to fall on me, but suddenly I understood exactly what she was saying. 

 

I speak about whining and my utter hatred of it, but that’s all I do. I hate, despise, loathe, and pity “her”…. but I do nothing about it. My lack of a spine and powerlessness has led to complacency and I guess just plain ol’ whining.

I guess she had reached her limit. I guess she could take no more of it… wanted to hear no more of my drama… no more of the insanity. I realized this because of the way she kept going on about “obviously there’s something there”. She said she had been really thinking about this all day. And then I realized that I had done the one thing I never in a trillion years wanted….I had burdened someone else with my problems.

 

Funny thing is I always say “I hate drama”, but apparently without it all I have is work…and they are working on taking that away from me.  I guess in that I am again just like my Mama. She always says she has to have drama “otherwise it’s no longer exciting”. I find no excitement… but whatever, as I’ve said before nothing matters anyway. So this in fact my last post, dear reader. I never wanted to be a problem for anyone, I just needed someone to listen to me for a change.

 

But oh well guess I’ll go back to doing what I used to……

What?

Trust me, even that doesn’t matter.

 

http://www.last.fm/music/George+Michael/_/You+Have+Been+Loved

My father used to call me a Sea Urchin…wonder if he meant Jelly Fish

Here is where I say all the things I need to…but even here I keep secrets. There are so many things I say only to myself.  Being the hypocrite that I am, I’m always telling others to grow a backbone, but I do not have one. If I did, trust me, some many things would be different.

 

So many things………..

 

I would never shed another tear. I would never have to look at my ex and know how unrequited my love for her is. I would never have to listen to “her” whine about anything ever again.  I would never have to be hurt again. I would never have to wonder how my life ended up as it is. I would never have to look at other people and wonder how come I can’t be happy too. 

 

 

If I only had a backbone……….. I would never have to be.

http://www.last.fm/music/Remy+Shand/_/Looking+Back+on+Vanity

Some gifts… sadly, cannot be returned.

Au revoir mon amour. Nous aurons toujours Paris parce que c’est où j’ai laissé mon coeur.

Today has been a really hard day.

 

Today I boxed up all my Eiffel Towers and gave them away. It’s kind of like having to be the one to decide to terminate life support on your spouse. It seems like the right thing to do at the time, but once it’s done…you don’t know how to go on yourself.

I never realized just how many I had. I did keep all the ones with little notes from my ex on them. I’ll eventually place them in my Pandora’s Box with all my other pictures, letters, wedding rings and other momentos.

Each one reminded me of so much, like when I got them or where we were. I’ll never have another love like that. My 1st wife told me (as she was leaving me) that I had to set her free, if we were meant to be together we would one day. That was over 11 years ago and the only letter I ever sent her (at her request), went unanswered. I don’t even know if she ever got it. So one day I mailed her baby pictures back to her parents…figured they would rather have them.

 

Somehow I know this is different. I know my ex is gone forever like my appendix. There will be no sudden regrowth, no miracles, no prizes of her in my Cracker Jack box. She really is free to be happy out there in the world better for not having me, better for having had me (hopefully), but one never knows these things….do they?

 

http://www.last.fm/music/Gamine/_/The+Goodbye+Story

We join our regularly scheduled broadcast, already in progress…

So here we stand….”she” is a complete and total idiot and I am going to have to make mince meat pies out of her and sell them at the next county fair.

 

OK, today she was in tears. Why? IGNORANCE!!

 

She goes on and on about how she is so afraid I’m going to put her out if she moves in and then she’ll have no where to go and nothing. Well duh! How did this start? I went to turn off a light she left on. I’m getting ready for work and she was like “I’m so scared right now. I’ll do or say something to upset you.”  So here’s where it pisses me off. I’m say calmly (at first), “what is wrong with you?” “If you don’t want to move in, don’t.” “Do not rush into anything you’re that afraid of. I do not want you lurking around me waiting for me to explode. You know what pisses me off and what buttons to press…don’t do it.” Then I start to begun really agitated, because then I notice the . So I continue, “Grow a backbone, make a decision and do it. If you are in fact moving in here then prepare to do so. Get yourself together, I will not move for you. ” She starts with but I know how you are about things being in there place. OK, what…”don’t make this about me. If your desire to move in meets your fear of moving in…then don’t do it. It’s just that simple. I am not hard to live with, I only ask things that are simple decency {she has none obviously}, turn off a light, close the shower curtain…nothing difficult.” She starts with “I want nothing more than to live here” blah blah blah. And I’m like but “if your fear is delaying you then simply don’t live here. ”

 

I mean really am I speaking aloud here, can you not hear me Simpleton?

What is your freaking problem? One minute I’m trying to sleep and she’s talking to me and the next she’s laying in the hall crying because I won’t tell her “it’s going to be ok”. Hell, I don’t know it’s going to be ok myself….it probably won’t be. Because if this is happening now, then why are we even having this one sided discussion (because obviously I’m talking to myself here)?

 

Where’s a wicked step mother and a poison apple when you need one? Maybe a knight looking for a dragon to slay? Or even a candy house, an old woman, and a really awesome oven?

 

Oh well, please stay tuned for more madness we all know will come……………….

http://www.last.fm/music/Good+Charlotte/_/Predictable

Excuses are just lies with hard sugar glaze

I never ask anyone for help, sympathy, money…just understanding.

 

Each day I go to work from 6pm to 630am since September 8th, seven days a week…at least until Friday because they have once again removed all overtime {no I have no idea what I’ll do }. Each day when I get home at around 715am, I do all the things I need to do. Lately that has been decorating for Halloween and buying lots of candy for the ghouls & goblins, my 1st real effort to ever do so. At about 830am, I try to go to sleep. Usually that doesn’t work as either I can’t sleep– you know when you are just too tired or I get caught up in doing something that I fail to realize the time. After nightmares, phone calls, doorbells and every other disturbance known to the civilized world, I wake up at 4pm to begin in all again.

 

Now I say all this for a reason. I still function day to day, fatigued, bleary-eyed and generally morose, but I function. I handle whatever I need to without whining about “being so tired”.

 

Some people have this innate ability…survival of the fittest. I never thought of myself as strong. Strong willed maybe, but definitely not what one might call a “strong person”. But hell, what do I know……

 

This morning I vacuumed all of downstairs, took out all the trash, boxed up some cookware & dishes for my ex, talked to her on the phone, temporary laid new tile in 1 of my bathrooms (right now to see if I’ll like it), and still played with my Halloween candy. Then bed around 9ish.  I actually got up at 4, changed the linens, washed a load of clothes, cleaned 2 bathrooms and then got ready for yet another 12 hour day at work.

 

Wonder why I’m saying all this?

 

Because ”she” has worked 2 weeks of 6 days at 12 hours a day and “oh I’m so tired”, “my neck hurts”, “I feel so sick”, “I want some ice cream”, “do u have any chocolate”.  Meanwhile I say,”Can you put the clothes in the dryer?” Most of which are hers, and includes my chocolate covered cracker encrusted sheets and do you know what she says? “I’m laying on the bathroom floor because I feel sick.” I’m thinking oh I got your “feeling sick” right here.

 

Universe…give me strength….PLEASE!!

Double standards taste just like potato chips. You never have just one but if you ever stop, you’ll never have another.

Stick with me….there is a point.

I’ll be the first to admit I don’t have a lot of relationship experience, which makes it sad that I am so jaded and have no hope of changing.

My best friend when I was in the 3rd grade was a girl a couple years older than I. She lived down the street from my Paternal Grandmother and we just sort of hit it off one day. Well theses things go we were inseparable andme being quite cute, shy young Lady of 8…OK, so I was more of a wild haired heathen riding my bike all over DC in a dress with no shoes….but either way … she was attracted to more than my friendship . She was the first girl I ever kissed and boy was it the best thing ever. Well we would do this every chance we got until something odd happened.

My 14 yr old Aunt’s best friend, thought I was a lot of fun and we would play in her parents basement. No, not “those” games….get your mind out of the gutter.   Well my BF, did not like this at all and started to treat me differently. No more sleepovers, which meant no more kisses. OK, so I’m 8…what do I know of these things. I’m just a wild street urchin, much like the Wild Man of Borneo. All I know is my “boyfriend” is gone, won’t talk to me andI don’t understand why.

But soon I am upon the lips of another. A more wordlywoman, older, wiser . My Aunt’s BF (yeah you knew it was coming)…. we never did anything more than kiss but she actually talked to me, tried me like an equal…I loved her. But still I wanted to understandwhat happened with the BF. See, I used to beat those same dead horses even when I was little.

I had my Grandmother call her Grandmother to set up a sleep over so I could find out what happened. She didn’t want me there, wouldn’t talk to me even and kiss me? Well it was like I had the Cootie Queen attachedto my lips or something. It was a very long weekend….

So back into the arms of my other “boyfriend”. It was she that tried to explain it all, being the proper Catholic school girl she was. It was all lost on me, though. 

Years later….many years later my BF tried to again be my friend. I was the one who said no.

It was the only time.

In the 7thgrade I had my first male friend. He was in HighSchool, so I thought he was cool. Later I knew him to be a major creep but for the time he was cool. He was help me practice kissing when he was between girlfriends. It worked for both of us because he really wasn’t my type. But eventually we became a couple. He would always dump me after meeting one of my friends, but I always took him back. Well when I went to Middle School, I wanted to check out the “fresh meat”,  so I broke up with him. Later on when I wanted him back, it was he that said no.

In the 8th grade I met a rather charming nerdy Sax player and we were as different as night andday. Trust me, the gifted classed were the only thing we shared, but I was in love withhis Sax. He was in love with”the new girl” who existed on a totally different plane than any one there. He was a Drum Major, I marched to the beat of drum I probably made of out of mini skirt that I was still wearing. He was a talker, I a listener. He broke up with me all the time…his Mother hated me and my “worldly” ways. {I think secretly she was trying to cultivate 3 gay sons, the other 2 were already Ballet majors at Ivy League Schools (No, I am not lying). } Anyway we would argue, he would break up with me, cry, profess his undying love, and I would take him back.  Until the summer before we were beginning High School. He was off to Band Camp and I was off to be a volunteer Counselor at the Y. I wanted to be free, I broke up with him…he would never forgive me and take me back.

After that I was like forget this madness. To hell with always being the one left. Until I met her.

My 1st wife was “special” and not in the “Ohh you have a special needs child” kind of way either. More like, “Oh what’s wrong with her? Was she raised by a Mommy Dearest?” “No, she’s just naive and really really spoiled!” She was my first official girlfriend and in my eyes she could do no wrong. Well except be dumb as a box of dirt. It makes sense in the box, but really once you add a little water, it just becomes heavy and then you start to see the rocks. She was the epitome of daft. but I was determined not to leave because, I knew she’d be like all the other and not take me back. To make a long story short (bet wish this posts was short too ), she left me. Who know where she is now.

My 2nd and my most beloved wife and I were destined to be together forever. That is until “she” came upon us. As we all know, technically I left her and as we also know she would never take me back.

Now we reach “her”. We were never meant to be….I have more in common with John McCain than I have with her. We argue, I stop speaking to her. She professes her undying love, I tell her to try again. She whines, I become enraged. She has so many issues, I look normal. I begin to see an up side. So here we are.

I wonder what is it? Why do I always take everyone back but no one ever does the same for me? Yes I know I have abandonment issues, that goes without saying. But no one ever sees that I too make mistakes. No one ever sees that I too am not perfect, I do and say wrong things all the time, there’s no reason to hold it against me for life.

Instead, me the hopeless Romantic always looking for my Knight in shining armor, has to keep kissing the wart covered toad….it’ll never be a Prince, but the high I get from it’s poison is at least some comfort.

“I’m in Mergers & Acquisitions. How about you?”

So we are in a recession. We all must cut back, save up, buckle down or some such nonsense.

So “she” is moving with me….or should say, “I have a acquired a bankrupt company in the hope of being able to sell off it’s stock at a later date.” Yeah, it’s pretty worthless stock but the board decided in acquiring it’s assets current stock holders wouldn’t loose at much as they would otherwise. Right now we’re in negotiations. I’m trying to determine if the current employees will stay on or be led to the guillotine.

But more on that later………I’m so very exhausted right now.

Pointless things are still Pointy things

Yesterday I left work. I know, I know, WTF?! I never leave work. But I was not well…the nausea was just too much to bare. It all started with a headache and just got worse. Every time I thought about things, I started to feel even worse.

I have begun to forget how to use my hands. I go to insert food and somewhere between picking up said item and chewing, I lose it. Either my hand opens at the wrong time or I completely miss my mouth. I don’t think I had a stroke….

Sadly I think I know the cause.

I’ve reached a stage of acquiescence, I always wanted to be a fighter, but that’s much like wanting to be a Princess or a Unicorn… possible for some but if you don’t have the genes, it’s not likely.  The way I see it nothing matters anyway. By letting her move in at least I won’t have to work quite as much. Sadly I can’t really see any other good from it.

~~~~~~~~Ponder this~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It is much easier to Love someone than it is to Like someone.”

{Truer words were never spoken.}

House for sale…fully furnished, must take whining ghost as well….cheap!

OK, yes I am still posting. If they come get me, then at I’ll finally have someone to talk too.

Yesterday, several things came to me…

• I can’t complain that no one ever calls me if I never call anyone.
• People suck.
• Once a blood thirsty leech…always a blood thirsty leech and said leech will feed even without blood.

I needed someone to talk to so I called “her”. I tried to sound caring, concerned, interested in her well being. Do you know what she said to me? “Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?” I would have punched a hole in the wall, if it wouldn’t have just cost me money I don’t have. WTF?! So fine. No more calling her.

Then I call my ex. Not much better. She too sounded annoyed that I called. She too, was quick to get off the phone, so no more calling her either.

Then “she” tells me her lease is up. ”Is there any reason she shouldn’t renew?” WTF! Why even ask such a stupid question? In the year since I put her out, nothing is any different. I’m still the one she blames for her miserable existence and no matter how nice I try to be it’s never right. She will always find a way to ruin it. 

Now here’s the worse part. I have a friend who lives alone , I live alone , ”she” lives alone , my ex lives alone . Yet none of us can live together.

So of course “she” wants to live with me again. Do I dare?

Honestly I’m not sure. I mean have given up life really…so I guess I view it as a “push”. I’m miserable with her and I’m miserable alone. So either way I’m dying. The only good thing is if I let her move in…my ex won’t have to worry about me leaning to her.  She deserves a stable person anyway…guess that’s why she doesn’t talk to me.

Wonder if it’s like dog hearing? She can’t even hear me anymore.

The truth is out there……..

Let me state for the record……. I AM NOT NOR HAVE I EVER BEEN DANGEROUS.

I read a lot, only things on-line because I can read while at work, and of course I read the article on TruTV about Bloggers who kill. I read about one particularly disturbed person, and it frightened me.

What if someone out there thinks of me as someone like him? We both talk (write) about our meds, our depression, our loneliness. He, however, wrote about his twisted fantasies and I am not a sick minded fuck. But what if you don’t know me and based on what you read think I could be? What if somewhere out there someone is genuinely afraid of what I may do?

Now, I’m afraid to post…afraid that my words are being cataloged in a file somewhere to be used as evidence against me should I snap and run rampant plundering the villagers. What if the people who do know me are thinking this too?

Maybe I’ll just stop writing……..because now I’m all kind of paranoid.

OK…I’ll write, but maybe they’ll just be private from now on.

One really is the loneliest number………

Do you know why I come here everyday, even when I posts nothing new?

I come because I want to see how many people read about me today. It’s my pathetic attempt to be social. I exist only to pay bills and other than work, I have no outside communication. So here,I come.

My mother is in love, so she has no time…not that she listens to me anyway.  My ex…well frankly I’ve beat that dead horse, dug it up & beat it so more…so she goes about her life oblivious to me. And “her”….that’s a horse I’d like to beat, turn into glue & then use it to glue religious pamphlets in foreign countries so she is constantly being exorcised.

So other than these words, I have no connection with anything. Sad when you think about. I mean this is actually not communicating. This is me beinga hypocrite and whining about my life and you my poor, dear reader being forced to realize your life isn’t that bad…maybe. You know I don’t even talk to me. Well lately I’ve started to, but generally I simply walk about my house in silence. It used to be that if I talked aloud I would start to cry because I’d realize just how pathetic I really am….talking to no one. But now the tears come all on their own, no matter I’m doing. I have even managed to wake myself up crying actual tears.

I suppose that’s a sign I should heed, but I simply don’t care anymore. What could I do about it anyway?

Somewhere in the world…she waits for me. Too bad I’ll have to try to come back to find her.

 I’ve always thought of myself as “the one”. You know the one someone would love forever. The one someone would protect and care for. The one someone would love at least as much as I loved them.

Too bad, I thought so highly of myself…

It’s a long way to the ground.

Only a Fool needs someone to help them…Intelligent people would out source in the beginning.

I am the biggest fool I know. I used to think I was moderately intelligent, but as I life and breathe…I have learned differently.

I never ask for help and am always criticized because I don’t lean to others when I need to. There is precedent that dictates my behavior. It is not because I am so self sufficient that I rest solely on me. If I mess up, it’s OK, I probably didn’t know what I was doing anyway. If you mess up for me, then I was a fool for asking you in the first place. 

Someone volunteered to help me….then did a worse job then I could have done. Then another volunteered to fix the mess. Foolishly I agreed. For this I extremely saddened. Because now I am twice the fool, which is just why I never ask. I thought my request was simple. It required nothing that I did not provide. It has however become the corner stone of a madness I should have foreseen.

As a matter of fact I believe Nostradamus spoke of it.

At the intersection of happiness and  “Oh My God, we’re crashing into a brick wall!”, lies “her”.

And she has once again proven that even in something where there is no room for interpretation, she can find a way to ruin it. My request was born out of my own madness, admittedly. I was so caught up in thinking I was being explicit in my direction that I could not see that fact I was speaking to “her”. The “her” that makes me scream for the sweet release of death. The ”her” that makes me regret any- and every- thing I have ever wanted, said, done, or thought.

I see once again why my ex would never consider me as her her soul mate…. I am but a court jester acting out the follies of my insanity.

Why is it you never hear about Queen Midas?

“Somebody’s Me”
by Enrique Iglesias
You, do you remember me?
Like I remember you?
Do you spend your life
Going back in your mind to that time?
Because I, I walk the streets alone
I hate being on my own
And everyone can see that I really fell
And I’m going through hell
Thinking about you with somebody else[CHORUS]
Somebody wants you
Somebody needs you
Somebody dreams about you every single night
Somebody can’t breath without you, it’s lonely
Somebody hopes that one day you will see
That Somebody’s Me [2x]

How, How could we go wrong
It was so good and now it’s gone
And I pray at night that our paths soon will cross
And what we had isn’t lost
Cause you’re always right here in my thoughts

[Chorus]
Somebody wants you
Somebody needs you
Somebody dreams about you every single night
Somebody can’t breath without you, it’s lonely
Somebody hopes that one day you will see
That Somebody’s Me [2x]

You’ll always be in my life
Even if I’m not in your life
Because you’re in my memory
You, when you remember me
And before you set me free
Oh listen please

[Chorus]
Somebody wants you
Somebody needs you
Somebody dreams about you every single night
Somebody can’t breath without you, it’s lonely
Somebody hopes that one day you will see
That Somebody’s Me [5x]

 

 

 

 

 

I’m getting older by the second, and not just chronologically but emotionally.

I guess I’m lost somewhere between Mid Life Crisis and Senior Citizen Discount Wednesdays.

I know, age wise I’m not that old…but I truly do feel like it. I used to wonder why old Lesbians still went to clubs just to watch the Newbies…. now I know why. You get caught up in the constant responsibility of being an adult and you lose sight of enjoyment in life itself. OK, well I never really had it, but there were moments when I was happy… moments when I could see the hope life brings…but those are past.  I honestly never thought I’d make it to this age…figured I would died off long ago. So facing my life old and alone does not bring any possibility of happiness. I see myself working literally until I die, which may be sooner rather later. I remember the far off look in my Grandmother’s eyes when I was little and it is now that I know what she was thinking…”Youth really is wasted on the young.”

 

I look at little kids and teenagers and I see all the hope and fantasy about the world that I used to have. I always wanted children, I wanted to be able to let them be kids while they could. Yeah, people would have said I was spoiling them, but I wouldn’t care. I would have taught them the joy of being free to be themselves. They would have gone to school plenty of days with their clothes non matching, but they would have been unique not tacky. They would have told other kids all about sex and politics and when to wear white. They would have known the joys of being barefoot and the difference between a wedge and a stack. I would have loved them until they became rebellious teenagers, and then I would have loved them more.

Of course realistically I know I don’t have children for a reason…I call it Divine Intervention. It was written that I never propagate, never spawn a demon like the one in my soul. It’s for the best I tell myself….I can’t afford to function as it is, a child? That would simply never have worked out financially besides my Mama tells me I’m too selfish to have children…t ells me Im not the Mothering type. Guess that’s why I don’t even have pets. (Never told you about Sahara, Papagallo, Tigger, Cappiachino, Oreo, Mocciata or Boirus & Natasha…that’s another time, not now.)

 

Most people want to see loved ones that have passed because they have all these “things” they never got to say. To my Grandmother with the far away look, I want to apologize. I want her to know how sorry I am that I have wasted my life…sorry that she had held hopes for me to have a better life and I blew it. I’d cry to her that I am sorry that the only thing I became when I grew up….was a failure at every single thing I ever touched.

 

Because in the end…it doesn’t really matter

The other day a guy at work asked me what it would take for me to be happy.

WTF!?

What kind of question is that? Happy? Me?

The worse part is that I can not answer that…I have no idea. He then asked me what I did for fun? So of course I’m thinking, “What is this the Spanish Inquisition or something?”

Fun? I don’t have time for fun! I’m always at work! Fun is for the youth…the hopeful…the happy people in the world. It is not for the damaged and broken, indebted and lost….not for me.

As it is my Halloween won’t even be what I wanted. I’ve spent all this money foolishly and my Mama can’t come like I’d hoped. I simply don’t have the time or money to go get her & take her back and she can’t afford to get her truck fixed and then drive all the way here. I guess sometimes I live in some fantasy world where things will just work out…but they never do. Hell, I don’t even have the ability to use my off days to put up my decorations, instead I’ll have to do it a little at a time when I get off every morning. Right now I have to work as much as I can since I am off Halloween weekend. So I just send her her costume, some candy and the money I would have spent on gas (she could use it anyway).

Really? What’s point anyway?

I wish I knew how to quit you…….

Yesterday Two days ago while sitting on the table, wearing my paper attire at the Gynecologist’s office…..it all dawned on me. I truly am a mean, control freak.

It started when I looked at her toes. I used to say that a woman should never go out with unpolished toes, I tried to keep hers polished. But now they were naked. It was my Mama that told her 11 years ago to cut her hair and it was me that told her not to do dreads. But now she has dreads and they are approaching shoulder length. In the beginning she wore no jewelry, then I gave her all this stuff, now she’s back to not wearing any. So it suddenly dawned on me, I created in her what I wanted, not necessarily who is wanted to become. I never wanted to change her, I just wanted to give her confidence in herself. Guess I just pushed her. Maybe she was never happy with me and would have sacrificed her soul to be shed of me.

 

As I was sitting there sweating (it was sweltering in there), with my ex next to me (same appt. date), not a word was being said. I realized that after almost 11 years together she no longer has anything to say to me.

 Why didn’t I say anything?

What could I say? ”My life sucks more everyday, I’m thinking about ending it all…please come back.”I knew that wasn’t happening, besides that would never be fair to her. I couldn’t stop my eyes from tearing up as I wondered where it all went. We used to talk so much about so many things but now I feel forced to remain quite for fear of saying just what I’m thinking and since she doesn’t say anything…it only fuels my pain.

I guess it’s just one of those things I can’t get used to.

 

http://www.last.fm/music/Sin%C3%A9ad+O%27Connor

I’m no idiot savant….just a plain old idiot

My life is so messed up, that I actually created a mathematical formula to show just how messed up it really is.

{(-z + δ/-$) x A∞ -J = §} +{§ +(rr²/L∞) x G + δ}= ??

It looks better on paper than it does here. I had to improvise some of the symbols.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re saying “wow, that is the work of a true genius. I am astounded at the complexity this problem represents. I wish my simple brain could explain life in such intricate, yet simple terms . She must have worked on the LHC team.”

OK, so maybe that’s not quite what you were thinking. It was probably more like…”WTF? The is the work of a some truly insane person. Who would sit there and come up with such madness?”

Either way . 

I will explain.

See here lately I have become quite listless…quite, well I’m not sure the word, but just know that since things are never right in my world I’ve been truly feeling like just chucking it all. You know? As if my own guilt wasn’t heavy enough I began to feel even more guilty because here I am complaining about my life while people in the path of Hurricane Ike lost everything.  While granted I have no one, I at least have my home a job, and the ability to function. Some of those people lost all their worldly possessions and some even lost their lives and/or loved ones.

I began to ponder the purpose of my continuing my sham of a life. I serve no actual purpose, yes yes I know “You touch the lives of countless people around you and you may never even know it”. Some quack wrote that non-sense and I’m in no mood to counter it, so whatever. Anyway, I started to see the value of my dissolve, the few who would even notice would eventually breathe a sigh of relief because they would no longer have to hear me whining “oh poor me”. 

And then to top it all off there I was at my weakest, worried about losing my job, trying to plan for the High Holy Day (and by that I mean Halloween…my favorite day) which is really hard in it’s own way. On or near Halloween I realized I’d lost my 1st wife, it was the favorite day of my 2nd wife & I, then I spent last Halloween putting “her” out of my house. So I was trying to take it back this year, but the stress of working continuously and being afraid of buying the few things I have because who knows if I’ll need the money before it’s all said and done. Well anyway out of the blue “she” suggested we have sex. Her father’s in the hospital most likely dying so she was feeling pretty down, I’m feeling like I’m at the end of a flaming rope… so why not (besides no one else will touch me). Well of course now that it’s done, I’m feeling worse. I feel like 1.) I’m cheating on some phantom lover and 2.) I know she’ll be thinking it’s more than it was. It was sex, even she said so…but we all know they type. “The I’ll tell her whatever it takes” then WHAM!! “when she’s not looking I’ll try to weasel my way into her house” type. So naturally I’m feeling really uneasy now because I know I’ll be forced to break her back down again real soon.

 

But well anyway I at least explain my formula. {(Lack of sleep (-z) plus extreme despair (δ-closest symbol to a noose) divided by severe debt (-$)) multiplied by continuous anxiety (A∞) minus any minuscule of joy (J) equals a descent into hell(§)} plus {a descent in to hell(§) plus a lot of reasonable regrets (rr²) which are divided by severe loneliness (L∞) all multiplied by mountains of guilt (G) plus more despair (δ) equals HOPELESSNESS (??). So you see convoluted yes, but you have to admit, still the work of a genius and we all know they are borderline insane.

You can NEVER go home again

Have you ever studied yourself while looking into a broken mirror?

No?

Everyone should. It sort of gives you a different perspective…a sort of look into your soul as it were. While I have never done this myself, I have an idea that it wouldn’t show me anything I didn’t already see. My soul is just as broken as my heart…nothing new there.

 

I have been wondering… when does life actually begin? I’m not talking about the physics of it or even the logistics of it…but the spiritual aspects of it. See I can always see the end of it..but not the beginning of it.

My ex used to say “call me when you get home, so I know You made it safely”, since I am without a cellphone. I often wondered whether it was out of obligation or concern. So sometimes I would call, sometimes I would not. She used to say, “I love you” whenever we parted but one day she just stopped. She used to come by my house to see me, then abruptly this too stopped. Now she barely says two words to me, so I sent her an email saying I understand, maybe she just can’t talk to me anymore. Maybe she’s afraid to hear just how broken I really am, so I don’t blame her for no longer speaking to me…it’s just that way it has to be I guess. So I while I do wonder when the end actuially came, I can see it has come.  Her heart is officially closed to me and with this I am forced to carry the guilt forever.

 

So when will life begin anew? Anyone? An answer?

Yeah I thought so………for me, a person who has to work constantly….this is my life, nothing new here. 

They lied the LHC did create a black hole…it’s where my heart used to be

Some day, dear reader, I hope to have a day where I am happy and all is well and it is just a good day…..of course, then my alarm will go off and I’ll have to wake up.

So you know today has been no different than normal. I tried to finish painting the room today.  I was moving one of the book cases and starting going through all my books and the tears just came back. See I have all these sex books, you know it was going to be my dream career… Sex Therapy. But we all know how I feel about dreams Well anyway, I was sitting there wondering what happened to my life? I mean nothing was perfect, but it was mine. I had a family, I had love, I had security… I just didn’t have intimacy. What kind of therapist could I except to ever be, if I had all these books and never learned one thing from them. I couldn’t even help my own relationship. Yeah I know, I’ve said this before…. it just hits me sometimes over & over again, OK?

Then I started looking around the room, which while in total disarray, I could still see so much of “us”. I even have the very first picture ever taken of us..I think I felt pieces of my heart actually shatter and fall somewhere near my spleen. So of course while I still painted, it’s not finished.

 

Then there’s a message from “her”. She actually called me to ask me to come to work. WTF!! I mean really, me who works 12 a day 7 days a week, never mind the fact I am already on the schedule to work 12 today. No one ever calls (except Mama of course) just see how I’m doing, if I need anything, if I’m laying on the floor dead, or hell, if I’ve fallen victim to random door bell rings.  So of course, my temper flares before I even leave home. On my way in I try to calm down…it doesn’t work. Regardless, I decide to tell her. I walk up to her and say,” Now I’m going to try to say this a calmly as I can, which is not how I felt when I heard your message. But DON’T YOU EVER CALL MY HOUSE AND ASK ME TO COME TO WORK for as long as you know me.” “How dare you call me with this? Me? Who is here 12/7 and is working 12 today?” She goes on about how I had said once before that it was hard for me to get hours, blah blah (I stopped listening when I turned the car off. ). But I did hear this, “When was the last time you called me to see how I’m doing?” This was the straw. Then I said,”This is why we are not together!”, and walked away. She was still talking but I could care less.

 

What is wrong with people? I once saw that a woman should have someone love her more than she loves them. I have always loved someone more than they loved me. It is the whole lesbian thing that prevents me from having this for myself?

http://www.last.fm/music/Al+Green

 

**Oh wait…..

I almost forgot. There was one bright glimmer (smaller than a spot). Apparently when “she” went to sort her mother’s things, they found out she was quite the freak.  They found porn of all sorts. And she gave me, what they thought was one of the most horrid things. It was one of those keychains where the man is copulating with the woman from behind and it moves back & forth. It’s all old and kind of rusty…but it is priceless! To know her mother, is to know she seemed so naive and unaware of the ways of the world. But apparently she was quite the wanton woman…I love it!

4 Days can feel like an eternity if you’re in a coma

If a Lady knows when to leave what does that make me? Hmmmm… OK, so we already know I am not a Lady…. Ladies are delicate yet strong. Ladies are pampered yet not fussy. Ladies are adored not abhorred. So we see I am definitely not a Lady.

 

To this end…I have returned. Hiatus over.

 

OK so you will recall from previous posts that “she” and I are no longer speaking. Well of course she is trying to wear me down again, but dear reader it shall not happen this time.  She walked around here moping for days because I no longer spoke or even acknowledged her presence. Well then she would stop by my desk, say a word or two while I looked at her like she was lost or something. Then she would send me an email, to which I wouldn’t respond. Then she left me some ice cream (caramel…my fave), I thanked her for her kindness but offered nothing more.  So she resorted to calling. I no longer answer my phone so she leaves message after message of her “undying love for me”, “Oh I’m still so in love with you”, blah blah. “Life’s too short for me not to let you know how I feel”, like I didn’t know. Whatever! Like I really care anymore. I tried and tried and tried. I no longer try. There are only so many times a dog can be kicked before it turns around a bites you.

 

Oh wait there’s more…….

 

So I finally call my Mama. I’ve been avoiding calling her because I don’t want her to hear my voice. See I can tell people what they want to hear all day. I can wake up put on my make-up, get dressed and go on like everything is wonderful and unless you really pay attention, things may seem OK at least. But when I talk, I can’t hide it. The pain just oozes from me like the festering, infected sore it is. Well anyway, she could tell I was fading. She just kept tell me to hang on…”wait another day, things will get better. I promise” (her famous words).  And as per proper protocol, I said “OK Mama, I’ll try.” She told me I should try to have fun, stop worrying so much. This almost caused me to let go of the rope I’ve been using to hang on while teetering on the edge. Have fun? What? Is she insane? Like I really have a choice in the matter.

 

But still….it gets better…….wait for it….

 

So I had this room that I kind of thought of was a symbol of my marriage (which now that I think about it, it actually was literally more than figuratively). It had lots of pictures of my ex and I. It held all these framed words of love and commitment. It also held our Marriage Certificate. There were lots of Eiffel Towers, we got married in Paris (Tennessee). It was pink, with leopard print and pink roses. Yes, I know sounds crazy, but trust me….it worked very well. Anyway, I had already gotten rid of the leopard print linens long ago. I gave all pink roses, pink pillows, pink curtains and pink blanket away.  I’ve started giving away the art, next will be the Eiffel Towers. But nonetheless, I decided to paint the room. Now keep in mind, I have no money so of course I didn’t buy any new paint. I’m using paint I still had from when I painted the upstairs bathroom cabinets over a year ago. Sadly it will be the room most uncharacteristic of me, but whatever. OK, there’s a point here….stick with me.

 So, it’s early this morning and I’m just painting away. I covered in paint speckles and sweat. 80 When my doorbell rings…. Yes, you read right. It’s like 730 in the freaking morning, I am pouring sweat and the door bell rings. Now anyone familiar with my story knows this is not a good thing and most definitely not at 730am. So begrudgingly I drag downstairs, leer into the peephole and what (notice not whom) do I see? At first I am not sure, but as I stare at the what is pacing on my porch I wish my paintbrush was a gun. Because on my porch at 730 in the morning was “him”. The tried to rape me “him”. The “him” I have had absolutely no contact with since early spring. The “him” that was the catalyst for me changing my phone numbers so many times I can’t even remember it anymore. Before you ask, NO I did not open the door and “accidentally” pour paint all over him…although I wish I had thought of it at the time (Darn it! ). I was FAR too pissed that he would dare step one foot on my property. I simply watched him pace back & forth first on the porch then in the parking lot, stare at all the open windows of my house and finally leave. Now here is why this is more madness than you realize. Before I was so disgustingly interrupted from my laboring at placing a band-aid on my broken heart, I was listening to my Ipod. The current song was Send Me Someone to Love and I was just saying if I believed in wishing, I wish I did have someone of my own to love. And then the doorbell rings. I thought I would vomit when I saw what it was.

 

So let me tell you, dear reader whomever you believe is your Creator…She/He has a wicked sense of humor.   And believe me when I saw I was most assuredly not laughing….:?

http://www.last.fm/music/Erykah+Badu/_/A+Child+With+the+Blues

Please stay tuned for our regularly scheduled broadcast already in session.

I believe it’s time to stop writing for a while.

I always wanted to be a lady and to quote my favorite line from one of my favorite movies…. “A Lady always knows when it’s time to leave.”

http://www.last.fm/music/Mariah+Carey/_/If+It%27s+Over

To have a mid-life crisis, do you need a life first?

As my reader I know you probably hope that one day I’ll write something happy and uplifting. Well if you are hoping such nonsense….what the heck are you doing here?  

I mean really…hope? Is that anything like dropping pennies in a wishing well?

OK, now that that hilarity is over….. back to the morose.

Yesterday my ex told me her parents separated. I’m not sure if this is permanent or just a bump in the road, but it really got me thinking. See, now her & her mother are staying with her cousin. And my ex says she’s saving for an apartment…further solidifying that she is never coming back. All the while I keep having the thought that now is the time she’s going to move to Mecca (Mecca being Atlanta for all you not in the life). She has always wanted to live there, although I’ll never understand why. Traffic at 2:15am on a Wednesday? No thank you!

But I’m figuring now is the time for her to make her move. I mean it’s not like she has anything here. She has lots of family there, she has her Master’s and now her Mother is free (which is all she stayed here for anyway). Granted she is my one and only actual friend but even that’s different now and besides it’s not about me. It’s about her & what she needs and wants.

Which evidently isn’t me…..

I guess it’s obvilous to all, that I am not over her like I say. I just figured a lie is better than the truth, you know. I mean it’s been over a year. So I should be over her, right? In this case the truth shall not set me free. I’ve  been truthful all along and look what that’s gotten me….a bucket full of loneliness, a handful of bitterness and a heart full of pain.

She used to say it was “me and you against the universe”. Now it’s just…well you know…….

 I guess some things are just unforgivable…. You know the statement “You can never go home again”? I guess that’s true in more ways than one can imagine. 

http://www.last.fm/music/Marlena+Shaw/_/Will+I+Find+My+Love+Today%3F

This house is not a home…but my only family lives here.

Yesterday my supervisor was fired.

After having worked here for over twenty years… she’s gone. One of the few managers I’ve ever had that actually cared about her people. We could talk about anything…and have. She may not have understood me fully, but she was actually willing to try. When I was upset with her, she would constantly try to find the root of it, so we could be friends again. I will miss her more than I can explain. I know she’ll be OK…actually this is what she needed. But that doesn’t make it better…that doesn’t make it right. (Now is just not the time I needed to lose anyone else.) But she…like so many others is gone………

There was no ample justification given, simply “Management decided blah, blah, blah”. On top of this “they” decided to close part of our company and send it off shore. Off-shore? With the state of our country being as it is…

So is with extreme caution that the rest of us tread. We are so very worried about of state of employment, that it is hard to function. I mean I’ve been here over ten years, there is nothing else I can do. This is a town of call centers and factories, so if they release us….most of us have no where to go. Well, actually I have somewhere to go but I won’t say here. If you’ve ever read any of my posts, then you know where I’d go. Facing my possible unemployment further cemented an idea…a mantra if you will, that resonates deep in my heart/soul/mind.

I have nothing.   

These words move me to tears,makes me shake, and my blood run cold. These are words that no one likes to face, but if the truth shall set you free….no one is as free as me.

I sometimes ponder the thought…”Do people think I say these things for attention?” I look into their eyes and in them I see a hope that I am, but I am not. I do not seek attention…I do seek understanding. I seek companionship. I seek unconditional love. I know me above all others, and I know that unless I completely and totally relinquish my soul, I will never find these things.

http://www.last.fm/music/Luther+Vandross/_/A+House+Is+Not+a+Home

I went into labor on Labor day…guess that total hysterectomy didn’t take.

I am of course at work.

It’s my 3rd time in what seems like one really long day.

I am sorry to say, but I am just too worn out to think, let alone write today.  

So just read theses lyrics and listen to this song….. it just expresses a lot about me and what I’ve been through lately.

 

“32 Flavors” by Ani DiFranco

squint your eyes and look closer
I’m not between you and your ambition
I am a poster girl with no poster
I am thirty-two flavors and then some
and I’m beyond your peripheral vision
so you might want to turn your head
cause someday you’re going to get hungry
and eat most of the words you just said

 

both my parents taught me about good will
and I have done well by their names
just the kindness I’ve lavished on strangers
is more than I can explain
still there’s many who’ve turned out their porch lights
just so I would think they were not home
and hid in the dark of their windows
til I’d passed and left them alone

 

and god help you if you are an ugly girl
course too pretty is also your doom
cause everyone harbors a secret hatred
for the prettiest girl in the room
and god help you if you are a phoenix
and you dare to rise up from the ash
a thousand eyes will smolder with jealousy
while you are just flying back

 

 

I’m not trying to give my life meaning
by demeaning you
and I would like to state for the record
I did everything that I could do
I’m not saying that I’m a saint
I just don’t want to live that way
no, I will never be a saint
but I will always saysquint your eyes and look closer
I’m not between you and your ambition
I am a poster girl with no poster
I am thirty-two flavors and then some
And I’m beyond your peripheral vision
So you might want to turn your head
Cause someday you might find you’re starving
and eating all of the words you said

 

 

http://www.last.fm/music/Ani+DiFranco

 

 

 

 

Did you know that ear infections can cause Insanity? Too bad…I’m already there.

As my horrible day progressed I have come to realize a few things:

1. People are selfish
2. My Aunt is one of the few women who actually does love me unconditionally
3. Apparently people think I complain too much
4. No matter how much they beckon you, staples are not for eating

Now I know what you’re thinking and I know I will not explain….OK OK stop brow beating me…I’ll explain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am no martyr…far from it actually. But if someone is in need and I have any ability to give, I will. It doesn’t matter what the situation, who the person is, or even if I can’t logically afford to give…I will… freely and without a further thought, unless it’s my time you want/need. When I give my time, you better really need it and not waste it. Money can be replaced, but time cannot. I have seen people almost throw money away rather than give it to a person in need, this is insane to me. But this is not my point here. My point is that since I never ask anyone until I am beyond a simple need, when I do ask….it amazes me when people can’t be there for me. 

{case in point} Today– I needed someone just to be there…listen to me. There was no one, but when “she” called, I tried to explain to her why I was upset. Of course she was as obtuse as one can be and still have a pulse, so she didn’t understand. She asked me to come over and I soul screamed no, but somehow that translated into “OK”, over the blasted phone line. Well we all know how it went down. She whined, I ignored her. I tried to sleep, she kept talking. Then I did to her what she does to me. Every question she asked I said whatever she wanted to hear, then…. (that’s right…I did it) I blamed it all on the alcohol. I recanted all statements I made. I apologized for any misunderstanding that may have resulted. I reaffirmed that we are only friends and nothing more. HAHAHAHAHA! Aren’t you proud…for once I stood by my word! Of course despite all my apologizing, she broke down and left work crying. Whatever, I cry all the freaking time and she has never so much as sincerely apologized to me for anything. She knew I was upset and all she could see was a way to manipulate me into giving in to her insanity…well poo on her. It did not happen.

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I have always loved women. I used to tell people there is no such thing as an ugly woman. She may not be appealing to you, but to someone she is a GODDESS.  I preached it and I believed it. Well life  stole my rose-colored glasses and I learned women can be as ugly as all the Seven Deadly Sins. I used to applaud women who had the ability to manipulate a man, a situation, hell even a phrase and own it. But no longer. Now I am jaded and women with that particular skill set are just perfumed grifters, only looking for the next big score. Except for a few, one of whom is one of my Aunts.

{case in point} Recently one of my Aunts’ house was broken into and a lot of things stolen. Now she has always been my favorite Aunt. She used to keep me back when I still an only child and we would listen to all the Carol King, Joni Mitchell, Hendrix, Joan Baez and songs (back when they were new), she was a peaceful militant. You know giant Afro with the “Fist” pick stuck in the back. She would talk to the little 4 year old me like I was an adult. We would go all sorts of place together and she let me be me…dressed anyway I wanted. I loved her. Went grew apart, she moved out west…I grew up. Well she came back and as these things go, I still loved her but now we were different. She had married a few times and now had a son. She always seem to carry a sadness I never understood, but I wanted to fix. Oddly I think she always thought the same about me. Well as I was saying, her house was broken into and apparently it was the last straw in a list of otherwise deplorable situations that had recently befallen her. We had emailing back and forth about this when I off handedly mentioned my singledom. She was unaware of this. I gave her the gist of my situation and do you know what she said? She of course told me to stop crying, but she was genuinely upset that after all these time I am still upset by the whole situation. Then get this… She said she will try to help me out financially. What? Your house was destroyed by some cowardly fool without a conscience and you are trying to help me? When I read this response from her, I could not stop crying….hard since I was (like now) at work.  This is the same Aunt who gave me money to have Lasik done, because she loved it so much and she knew I had always hated my glasses. The same Aunt who gave me money to help pay back taxes I owed last year. She is also the only family anywhere who gave me a house warming present when I bough my first & only house. I have never asked her for anything. Yeah, so I remember her birthday every year and sometimes I send her flowers just because…she still is so awesome to me, there are no words to describe it.

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I try to keep to myself. I can’t be bothered with all the socializing people do at work….too much talking. Jeez! Don’t you people ever shut up? Well of course this wins me no popularity points with the Cube Citizens of Workerbeesville, let me just say. Sometimes I try to put up a brave front, I try not to have my life show on my face. Sometimes, however, I just don’t give a flying Fig Newton. When people ask, what’s wrong, I try to smile and say nothing. For some, this works. For others….well they know not to ask.

{case in point} Today– I had not slept much (see above, in case you forgot ) and with the removal of my last outlet (TV) I was just fed-up. Someone asked my “ex” to fix whatever is wrong with me. She said she didn’t know what was wrong. Then she turned to me, “what’s wrong, the usual?” The usual? Have my problems,issues, and pain become so common place that they are now viewed as “the usual”? . Well these just beats all. It made me realize that I talk too much and I’m not putting on the front I should. So from now on when someone ask, “what’s wrong?” I’m going to say, “Why thank you for asking, but it is the most glorious of given days. How could anything be wrong?” Oh never mind, that’s just too much to say…I’m sticking with “nothing”, until they leave me alone.

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Pica is one of my most favorite Psychological disorders. It is the compulsion to eat non edible objects. People will eat anything; utensils, hair, matches, needles, scissors, glass…anything. They can’t seem to stop themselves. When I was little I loved to eat paper. Specially not book paper. I’m still not sure why but thankfully I grew out of it. Good thing too since I also swallowed a lot of gum if you catch what I’m saying here. But this is not my point here. My point is Staples are a menace.

{case in point} While I have never eaten one nor placed one anywhere near my mouth, I do have a deep inner ear pain. So I’m thinking either I have been unconsciously eating staples as a snack or I just have another undiagnosed ear infection. Well there’s no money to go to the doctor, so I’m blaming the staples…that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

http://www.last.fm/music/Herbie+Hancock

There’s no such thing as a free lunch…unless you’re rich

You ever see those commercials where people are looking through their sofa cushions for money? Where do these people live?  I have never had so much money it just pours out of my pockets. I mean people look through their clothes, luggage, old purses, even books looking for any money they may have left there.

 

Know where I look?

 

My jewelry box. I have been reduced to searching all the places where I may have taken off a ring or misplaced a broken bracelet. The saddest part is that in some cases the item may not be broken or missing stones, I just may no longer wear it for whatever reason.

 

Oh yeah, things could be worse. What if I didn’t have my only possessions worth anything to sell? What if I have to go sell plasma instead?

 

What if I just slapped the next person who tells me “it could always be worse”? Who says this to an obviously broken person? Is this supposed to make it all better now? “Oh, you know you are right. It could always be worse. I could have been born with craniopagus parasiticus”.  {Look it up…I’m not feeling nice enough to tell you today} 

 

Why can’t people ever understand?

 

No one ever considers how things could and should be better. I understand the need to be able to look down and think “well at least I’m not that person”, but still….

http://www.last.fm/music/Melissa+Etheridge/_/Bring+Me+Some+Water

It’s a Wonderful Life……… think I could donate it to science?

Well….today is the day. 

 No not the first day of the rest of my life….because if it is I am seriously in trouble.

Today is the day they turn off my cable and I loose my Internet at home.  I have no idea how my life got so miserable, but let me say it is.

I overheard a conversion today between two guys at work, one was asking about a video for some new song and the other guy was like “Man, I don’t have cable.” I thought the first guy was only to pass out on the floor. He was genuinely stunned that in this day and age there was a person without cable. I almost broke out into tears yet again.  I mean here I am with a giant flat screen plasma and no cable.   Yeah, life is freaking awesome. It’s not like I was watching TV much anyway. There are a few shows I like, but I guess I’ll learn what it is that the pilgrims did or something.

Is it too late to invent fire? Maybe I’ll make shadow puppets or learn transcendental meditation? OK, OK…I know shadow puppets need a audience and with the Dali Llama in the hospital who’ll guide me through the time space continuum of my inner sanctum. OK, so maybe I’ll just do what I did when I had cable…lay on the floor and cry.

 

http://www.last.fm/music/Ani+DiFranco

Pride cometh before the fall…usually in the summer.

I will not accept hand-outs.

 

There, I said it. It’s out there for all the world (OK, my few sweet readers) to see.

 

It’s not about Pride, it’s about being deserving.

 

Let me explain….

Once when I was little we went to visit a property that my Mother was given. The entire neighborhood knew my family from years ago and there was a woman close to some members of the family who owned a store across the street. Now this was way before kids were tattooed with “DO NOT TAKE CANDY FROM STRANGERS!” on their brains.  Well this lady offered me a soda of my choice from her store. Now me being the kind of kid I was I didn’t take it. See I had been begging Mama for one all day (it was the middle of summer in the South….heat wave city), and she kept saying “No”. Well when this lady offered me one, of course I couldn’t take it. My Mama wouldn’t let me have one so I figured I better not take it from this woman either. Well, we all know what happened…. yep, I got a whipping.

 

Apparently, you’re supposed to accept what people offer you….to this day I have never learned this lesson.

 

There for a time my step-father used to get Food Stamps. He was a war veteran (re: guaranteed a job upon his return), back when that meant something other than coming home only to stand by the expressway with a cardboard sign. Well anyway for whatever reason we had food stamps, I hated them. Not just because I’m kind of a Republocrat, but because we didn’t need them.  There were families that could have really used them, so it was always a major bone of contention in our house. You know, me against the establishment… my parents & their government subsidies. Well anyway Mama, used to yell at me all the time back then, “Blah blah, he served his country. Blah blah, it’s the least they could do.” Still I maintained, we did not deserve them.

 

I had ovarian cancer.   Yep, at 21…found out just the day after I think (things are a blur from then). I had surgery and chemo. My doctor said Mama & I should go to the American Cancer Society to find out about support groups. We went. We were given a tour, more pamphlets than should be printed and several cases of Ensure. The counselor there said I probably wouldn’t be able to eat once the chemo got started and what I could eat probably wouldn’t stay down anyway. She said the Ensure would help me feel a little better. I didn’t want it. I knew why this was happening, and feeling better was not what I deserved. Always being the same person I am now, I felt that life was not for me. When I was little I used to offer myself to whatever forces would end my suffering, but I still woke up everyday.  I felt that this cancer was what I deserved…it was after all what I had in essence asked for, for so many years. I didn’t take the Ensure, but Mama did go back and get them. It’s what Mother’s do. I still didn’t deserve them.

 

I say all this because everyone who has ever met me knows I wear lots of jewelry and while I may say “Yeah but I need to get them re-done”, my nails have  been “fancy” for years. Well with my new found brokeness (yes I love creating words ), I’m in day 2 of being fancy-less. A young woman, who has known me for many years saw my hands yesterday. The first thing she said was “Oh my God, what happened to your nails. I’ve never seen you without them.” Yes being the Old Faithful equivalent of a tear factory, I got all teary eyed.   I tried to explain in a low calm voice that I could no longer afford them, while wishing my hands would just fall off at this very moment. {Yes yes, I know all trivial to you, but not to me.} Well anyway after she realized that I was truly upset by my latest loss, she offered to give me the money to have them done. What?    Of course the tears stopped back by my eyes. She is a young mother, there was no way I would dare take money from her. Absolutely no way!! But wow, she offered. The people that I thought loved me would never have done that and here she is, without hesitation offering to give me her much needed money. It broke my heart…what little there still is.

 

So see my pride has nothing to do with who I am. If I don’t deserve it, I won’t take it. I don’t do things to be nice to other people, I do things because that’s also who I am. I feel there is a lot I have done wrong in my life and I will always being trying to pay my penance. You would think I was Catholic or something….I do love Rosaries though, it’s just that whole anti-gay thing thing…..