Lensed

Writhing helplessly–

Interpreted by refluxing bile,

A forlorn victim of restraint,

Choked by the smothering–

Endless gnawing of memory rewritten,

Devoured in reimagined atrocities.

Supplementing the real,

An alternative to acceptance–

Presented like a sweet pastry,

Masking the unpalatable truth.

Changing the lie or flavor–

Pleasure wanes in rehearsal.

Sight shackled to what is,

An unforgiving reality–

Of pain, loneliness, yearning.

Many incinerated pieces–

Dustbin swept–

Belching presumed repugnance,

Dashed in form until particulate–

Forgotten but not gone,

Peering out from under a round stone–

Wondering…

Fleeterly

For me, being a part of “something” is a carnal need. I do not exist to affect nothing or no one. The beauty of being alive is a one-time gift even in the darkest recesses of contemplation. Have the traumas of my life shaped who I am? Undoubtedly and proudly. There is no strength quite like being whole unto oneself. Am I there yet…? No, I’m not. There is still a big nasty growing of snaggy brambles and thistles in the way. Better than I used to be, though. This last should be a damn mantra by now. I believe, I act, and I empower. The answer has always been in me, which makes me aware of how to stimulate the joy of realization to someone in need.

Today positively added to my recovery journey. I ventured out to talk with my psychologist and enjoyed a table outreach event at a utility company campus. I’m looking back on all the events I’ve done this. So many more than I would have projected months ago. I’m growing, Blog, and I feel myself unfurling and snipper-snapping into a crisp breeze. I am making my path through the world, proudly.

Reaching people is a wonderful feeling. Establishing a connection, agreeing to build a bridge, or even just a firm, earnest handshake can be beneficial. I see the pieces of realization scattered about in disarray for the present. One day soon, the picture will begin to develop from all those pieces. Integration, driven by genuine enthusiasm promotes my outward identity. Put the mask on and vanish into a persona. I wish I could take it off and show someone my real face. I have many strings being pulled by loneliness.

The empty space. A hole in my core self that can’t be healed. Ever. Trauma takes me back there, for a time. This is acceptable in comparison to stuffing feelings into an already crowded lunchbox.

There’s today’s thought-vomit. Enjoy? >.>

Have a good night.

Fantasy Football League Career Statistics (Retired)

The image below captures all aspects of my FFL history. Judge me as you see fit. It was very stressful to have that going on year after year.

In one of my leagues there was money every time, if I finished 3rd. I finished in the top three on FIVE occasions. That’s 5 times in the 6 years we had a league.

Interesting stats:

Finished in First: Twice

Finished in Second: Four Times

Finished in Third: Three Times

The Studyball Kurmudgeons: Fantasy Baseball League?

I know I have said at other times that I was “satisfied” with the tinkering of the scoring. I wanted to do a “past 7 days” filter so I could see what a scoring summary might look like for that interval. I had whole season numbers, but I wanted the Head-to-Head games to be competitive, not boring and incrementally relevant despite the season’s length. I saw what a above average season point output would look like, and there were clearly some areas that needed adjusting.opportunity to scale some things back. The I ran a new set of season numbers with mid level talent and tinkered with the balance some more.

The latest set of numbers came from a pretty high-output names, and some not so much. I think this latest tinkering is the best to date, since I am very concerned with the individual games not being monotonous. I also added a handful of “high level” achievement in the game, like a grand slam, a no hitter… etc.

The overall model is balanced enough to keep things competitive among similarly knowledgeable players, mind you. The bonus FPs from a big play is probably enough to lift someone who is trailing late, or crush your foe into the turf with a massive play that sets you on the path to victory.

Let me first show you the scorecard, which was totally redone as of last time I wrote about it.

 

 

 

 

95% of that is real data from active players over the last week, and it helped me to see where the final adjustments to the scoring were to be made. With the recent live-data scenario, I can say that the current scoring setup promotes intense and interesting games, and that’s the main point. Here are the (maybe) final scoring tweaks.

 

Clearly position players other than pitchers do well in this mode, but the pitchers come out looking like NFL fantasy quarterbacks. When they’re hot, they’re lighting everyone up and things are generally: yay! When they’re not, they become a vast, expanding black hole consuming all nearby fantasy points if they stray too close.

 

Big plays get rewarded, sometimes massively. Emongously. Trabookafred!

 

 

Maybe one day I might run this league… probably not though.

It’s just fun to think about.

Another, differently shaped golden trophy would look nice in my castle.

5-4 Triple Play

Two Texas Rangers infielders made 3 outs all by themselves, which is among the more insane things I’ve seen happen during live sports over the years. I’ve never seen two pickles in one play, or any of those shenanigans.

Pretty miraculous play (this being the third time since 1961 that it has ever happened)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OqcdoLUB4Jwhttp://www.espn.com/video/clip?id=24395792

**Sorry, that other link broke

Concealed

Ghost-fingers cold–

That spine-shuddering touch,

Eyes scream out in unknowing fear.

Emptied of dreams; memories–

They fall into a dark chasm,

Forsaken, purged by lightning,

Agony–

Again! Again!

Those hopes in trust–

Smeared into opaque nothingness,

Irrelevantly hoping–

Still met by a stranger,

Bereft of words,

Emotions swirling downstream.

Cast into the crucible of torment–

Straining against the surges that come.

Once proud foundations–

Crumbling decay into rot,

Detritus swept away by an outgoing tide.

Chuggy McChuggerson

Score: 3

Today was one of the better that I’ve had recently. I was active, productive and further entrenching my relevance in the workplace.

Tonight though, I’m still a little sad. I played a lot of music that brought me back. I do miss them, and their love, but the time for that has passed. I am what I have earned. I carry the weight of my decisions, every day. There are just some moral boundaries I will never cross, so no guilt or need of repentance is shielded from plain sight.

There is no point in struggling over the past, and the tendrils of regret slithering their way through it. Nothing can be resolved. Never. Wounds that don’t fester, but stay open and fresh, reminding. That is my quandary.

I have already said goodbye to them. There is no more to be done but turn away and walk into a new yet distant narrative.

Expectations should be realistic, and therefore, achievable. There is a big cookie of satisfaction for those who meet their target. I have on multiple occasions enjoyed that glorious victory cookie, but have also dropped it into the cat litterbox more than once. Goals should be achievable, not powder puff nor Mount Everest.

I feel relevant. Involved. I’m not fading away in shame, I’m thriving in the only reality I know.

12. We will never give up hope.