A Gift To Me

I haven’t been checking in as much as I have in the past. I think this is for a couple reasons: I’m profusely distracted with work things and also in love, so everything is a little brighter. I have that ambiance of tranquility around me and my days feel purposeful as a result of my ongoing interactions with K. That doesn’t mean I don’t also feel down, or exasperated at times. Sometimes I just feel worn out, like there’s no tread left on the balding tire of my available energy. These two things, one not outweighing the other, provide me with a version of reality I can thrive within at the beneficence of stability. I find myself continually making moves in my reality to improve outcomes, promote a more prosperous state of mental wellness, and develop a support structure that can carry me forward as life procures new and tragic events, at random disbursements.

I have to be mindful of my mental health as a top priority. I have done a fairly good job of being introspective in this regard. I did have days where I struggled, and felt depressed in the last few months. I had other days where I was happy or content with my situation. I saw no acute peaks and no devastating troughs and did not linger in any one state for too long. I feel remarkably balanced and expectedly fatigued from my life and schedule. I did take time for myself and I’ve, notably, had a harder time getting back plugged in to my routine since visiting K. This has been the only thing I have felt concerned about in any way. Now, the burden of work will lessen as the holidays approach.

On that front, I bought K a round-trip to CA from AL on Christmas morning. She’ll stay for a week and I deliver her to the airport on new years day. Her situation didn’t seem like it would yield the available funds to procure a ticket in enough advanced notice not to be exorbitant in cost. So, I did it. She’s never been out west anywhere before and this will be pretty mind-blowing for her. Our future together is still years apart, but this exchange of company and trips to each other’s worlds was a necessary step in forming a more permanent bond. Being a part of her reality is something I can now actively imagine as I have been a visitor to her world, for a time. Now she will get the opportunity to do the same for my reality.

I am more than willing to demonstrate my desire to invest in a future with K, and this ticket seemed like a good way to do that.  I love her, and I just want to be able to continue taking steps towards a time where we can be together like cheese and tortillas. It seemed worth the money to have her here again in my arms. Money can’t compare to the way she makes me feel: Like exploding sparkle-berries.

Well, have a good day, and I’ll check in with you more often going forward.

Back

In short: it was more than I ever expected. My trip to see K was an affirmation of all the feelings I’d been having and the proof of concept that the physical part of our relationship was good. It was very good. We have a symbiotic relationship with overwhelming sensation and generosity. It’s a functional dynamic I’ve rarely seen in my life. Most importantly, it’s a compliment to our relationship and not the foundation as in times past.

K is the person I’ve been looking for on my journey. A real equal companion. I’m so grateful to have her in my life and I want our worlds to be brought together. I know that day is far off still but worth keeping in mind and working towards.

The threads pull tighter. The affirmations provide strength. The road is long ahead still however.

Blast From The Past?

I feel both remorse and jubilation given all the things I have been through. So many tries at love, and a litany of failures to look back at. I always believe the litter of past transgressions can be removed, leaving a pristine landscape once more, but it does require energy, time, patience to clean it away. I have endeavored to do my part but it was never a thing that could be done alone.

I get the distinct feeling J is still out there, lurking. She being liberated of he need to find a resolution or a process designed to heal, I am simply followed by a vague shadow of someone I once loved devotedly. I find this regrettable. My whole trajectory in the last 6 years has been geared towards helping build bridges and healing people… yet, I can’t heal her. I can’t even talk to her anymore without having my soul ripped in half.

I know her accusations are the only thing she has left to harm me with (and she has), as they are an instrument that can affect change. I regret who I was, and I would change any number of things that happened to produce better outcomes… but the sad fact remains that fretting about my past is not going to change it in any way, ever. The only thing I have left is to try and build a better future for myself.

I don’t know how to bridge the vast chasm that now exists. From my peer support perspective, all healing begins with  open, honest conversation. All steps forward that build us up do not also suppress the feelings/emotions/traumas of the past.

In my new life that I have made, I find myself feeling proud of my accomplishments and not ashamed of who I was in an active way. What good does shame do me? I can’t walk forward with it on my back. I can only hope to reconcile the a source for myself since I am unable to control anyone else’s perceptions. My door has always been open, and remains so to any relic of the past who desires to move beyond what was done, into what can be. Shame is not the answer, systemic change is the only remedy.

Maybe because I am feeling these same feelings I had for J that this is coming back. It seems to be a very odd coincidence… I’ll keep you posted if it turns out to be just a Hunter-Seeker.

 

 

 

Long-Distance

I’m going to give this a try having done an LDR once before with the wrong person. In this new arrangement, there’s plenty to be happy about, and no frantic rush to implement. This scenario is FORCED to start off with knowing, friendship and the accumulation of trust before lives come together. It’s perfect for me!

But having someone to talk to every day who is keeping track of my life… that has invaluable worth. If nothing else, I feel significantly less alone than I did a few days ago. It was nice having “A” but “K” is a much better fit for my life and personality. We are common in our desire to achieve, strive and excel. What an inspiration! I think I made “A” into more than she was, but that veil didn’t shroud the truth of her motivations indefinitely. K is flamboyantly, attractively assertive and in-control of her own outcomes in a way I find irresistable.

So here’s to 2,400 mile friendships and the possibility of something more years down the road.

Hurt And Scraping

I guess my reconciliatory tone towards A is founded in the still-fresh ache of separation. I do still have feelings; I’m not a robot that can just shut them off.

I do think our break is for the best. You have to be in the right state of mind to be in a relationship. There were things she and I never really connected on. I had defects and so did she. The more distance I get from the break the more clearly I see things. Plus, I’m hurt by her sneaky actions activating her profile and looking for guys while we were still dating.

This probably means I’m going into silent running for the near future. I visited PS and responded to some messages, but once my premium status expires I’m not going back.

I just don’t think I’m going to find the right person on that or any dating site. I need to meet someone through one of my activities in the world. Whether at outreach or through some professional capacity, I’m hoping to align myself with like-minded individuals who share an interest in good mental health.

I had someone like that, but I scared her away and now C is long gone or entrenched in dislike. I wish it wasn’t so.

I’ll keep my doors open but I’m not seeking. I would like to make some close friends in my profession that become more. Hopefully, this process takes the time it needs to be a worthwhile investment.

Distance

Things I feel:

Hurt, alone, remorseful, unappreciated, unloved, lost, curious, frustrated and sad. 

Things I am resolved to feel:

Confident, stable, convicted, open-minded, reflective, attentive, perplexed, adaptive and proud.

Things I’d like to feel:

Trusted, loved, admired, respected, tolerated, engaged, humored, bantered-with and assured.

Real things that are also felt:

Abandoned, mismatched, unaligned, disconnected, regretful, passionate, unacknowledged, disregarded and done. 

Mope

I’m trying not to dwell on my discord and instead focusing my angst on creative projects. I’m dissatisfied with the outcomes in some areas of my life, but very pleased in others.

Professionally, I’m moving forward towards sustainability. I just saw my potential cap on hours increase by a bunch and that means a future of independence is closer than it was before. I know I ave a long way to go, and that circumstances outside of my finances currently dictate my residential status. This is not a point of frustration, it is simply a matter of fact.

I can “make believe” with all sorts of people. Whether family or acquaintances, it matters not. I provide a window of visible me to see through, and little else is revealed. I do this with just about everyone now that I think about it. I hate having to do it when I didn’t originally think I would… this realization of limited capacity is often a frustrating experience.

A and I though are doing good. We are talking extensively, every day. There is mutual interest, plus, she thinks I’m fucking hilarious (which I am). I make good with the funny several times a day. I care deeply about this girl and want to work on building something with her together, in an environment where we can both mutually thrive. She does think I’m strange, but I also have no filter with her so she gets the full treatment.

Now though… she’s out of reach until early next month. In the meantime, I need other people to torment but I find myself increasingly alone in my workplace and there is not usually anyone to pester, torment or even just talk to nicely. I had all these dreams of how things were going to go, and they have been dashed to some degree by the reality I live in. Fantasies is more the term I’m looking for.

I have been working on revising and improving my short stories for the Realm website. I published one of them but still giving the others a look-through. I find that the more often I walk away, then come back fresh, the better my outcomes are for finding redundancies, typos, punctuation issues and phrases/descriptors that need to be modified. This is how my symptoms are being addressed primarily, and I do feel glad to be back on this path.

As soon as I get home, it’s back to writing land.

Yesterday’s Flapjacks

I keep finding things I regret in my scoring:

.3 per put out is way too much. This makes 1B the most valuable position player in the game

1.25 per batter DPT is too much. Nerfed.

-.6 per K for batters is not harsh enough. Strikeouts are a sin against the Baseball gods.

.75 per IP is not enough. Pitchers don’t compare with position players. Also 1 per APP is not juicy enough either.

These are just some examples. I want balance damnit! No position should be preferable. Just like in my FFL leagues; rosters are based on previewed talent assessments not scoring advantages.

But why batter defensive plays? I do believe they should be rewarded because its incremental accomplishments that plug on both aspects of position player stats. It’s boring to only care when they’re at the plate. However, I needed my numbers to still promote balance despite the events piling up for certain players. So, I diminished some and buffed others.

Batting & Fielding

Runs 0.75

Singles 1.25

Doubles 2.5

Triples 4.5

Home Runs 5

Runs Batted In 1

Stolen Bases 2

Caught Stealing -1.5

Walks 0.5

Strikeouts -1

Put Outs 0.08

Assists 0.12

Errors -3

Outfield Assists 4.25

Double Plays Turned 0.8

Pitching Scoring Categories

Pitching Appearances 2

Outs Recorded ( 1/3 IP) 1

Wins 8

Losses -5

Saves 8

Hits -0.35

Earned Runs -1

Home Runs -2

Walks -0.15

Strikeouts 1

Balks -2

Grounded Into Double Plays 1.5

Holds 4

Pickoffs 4

Blown Saves -6

Still stayed true to my beliefs and edged true offensive achievement over big piles of defensive stats. Now increments break ties and keep my scoreboard popping with green no matter who is on the field. I feel like this configuration sticks in my happy zone.

Welcome to Whammy Slammy Susan III!!

First week saw my landslide victory over hopeless Bangle-Doof. Poor bastard lost by 103. My scoring was an overall nerf compared to WSS2 scoring. I like that.

The standings are a three way tie for first with DerpyDerpDerp leading in points. I climbed up from third to second. This week I get FaceWaster V, which has been bad news for me. His pitchers come through when I’m in the reticle. We shall see if he stays lucky.

In other news, I’m doing alright. Dad has been ailing lately. I remain aloof thinking that I have no clue what to expect but aware trajedeybmay be very near. “A,” who I will henceforth refer to as Critter, and I are doing very well. It’s more than three weeks in and things are still clicking. Discovery is happening and we are enjoying our time together. She’s curious about me which I find totally intoxicating.

The sex is unbelievable. I’ve never been more in tune with anyone before. We are dialing in on our comforts, and finding the ways we fit well together. I do light her up, and feel so very appreciated for the way we are together. She does EVERYTHING Blog. Dang yo.

My dreams have been confusing and I know there is some lingering part of me that remains unreconciled post Cheyenne. I don’t know what to do with that. Maybe it’s safe to be a friend now that I’m in a sexual relationship, but maybe because of my past attraction to her that’s not a good idea. I don’t like the way it all happened, but there has only been uneasy silence when it comes to the beat and not the appetizers. I broke it and now I’m trying to super glue it back together. It’s probably a waste of time, but I never like hurting people and just walking away.

I think about the future. Critter and I are thinking about the road ahead. So many more steps to make before logic agrees with emotion. She’s an investment I’m glad to make though. She tolerates my nonsense like a pro. Keeper status earned.

Have a great week Blogomites!

Splatty Susan

I’m about to “secure” a third straight defeat in my FMLB league. More than 100 point margin in this: a fantastic humiliation taking my league rank from first to third. Sigh.

Wholesale roster changes commencing. The injury bug has DECIMATED my team. No other roster has been hampered by injury. None. If anyone has a goat they wouldn’t mind letting me “borrow” so I can make an offering to Jobu please let me know. And for the record: I DID NOT STEAL JOBU’S RUM!!

Alas, a new week begins and another chance to get right. Hopefully.

In the rest of my world I went through some dad drama. He seems like he’s doing the best he can to make his slow decline unabashedly miserable for my mom. I’m not present enough to help ease the burden but I do need to earn a living. I’m torn in this capacity as son and man. I can’t propel independence without betraying my foundation. I resent my dad and his hedonistic way of living out his final days. He doesn’t care who he hurts as long as he gets to feel good all the way to the end. It’s grotesque and selfish.

In my secret life, “A” and I are thriving. I’ve troubled her with my symptoms lately and I feel bad about that, but I’m also a human so it seems unavoidable. She has her own life to sort through. Bullying ex. Distant family. She calls me by my first name.

I sympathize with our current plights but see a stable future out there somewhere, and not too far from here as well. I get scared but remind myself of the steps it took me to get where I am. Nothing worth having is achieved without struggle.

I’ve been having strange dreams that border on nightmares. I’ve also been having astoundingly good sex for the first time in many years. There’s a stability here in this dynamic that I’ve been missing. I’m glad to have it. Ow that shit in my family and beyond has hit the fan. So many variables. My antipsychotic is not cutting it at my current dose. I need to talk to my doctor again. Self care.

I’m going to bite my pillow for a while. Bye.

Calling

It shakes the balance of days,

A strained pluck of the tightest string–

Her echoing chords ring like a dawn bell.

Flipped and perplexed…

In the upside-down world,

My hands on the aching boundary–

The sound of my cleaving breath,

To clear the air of spinning dust.

Concealed by oblivious affliction,

Striking loose the gems of fortune–

Given light from under the skeptic’s soot,

Radiant and accepting… wanting for me…

Her voice came to call.

Before/After

I’ve been getting to know “A” over the last several days and I notice that this dynamic is forging into uncharted relationship territory. We are dating, so that much is established, but our bond goes very deep… but how? It hasn’t been a week, yet, I feel like I’ve known her for a long time. I had no inhibition with sharing my past and future goals with her, and she has done the same with me. How can we risk such profound vulnerability on what most people might consider “a stranger?”

Honestly, I don’t have an answer, but I do know I’m not at all scared to tell her the truth about who I am. I am also not afraid to be a free and open communicator about my feelings, preferences and desires.

But how did this closeness come to be? I am in a state of dialectic turbulence over this. The more emotional aspects of my consciousness are bonded fast to her, trusting, connected and intimate on a level I would expect of a partner I’d been dating for months or years. My logical, rational aspects are grappling with the uncertainty and newness of this relationship, and eager for stability to preserve this positive feeling I’m having. My mind reels at the thought of how new this is and how strongly I feel connected, but still demands stability, patterns and consistency to seal the deal and entrench my processes. I’m aware that time is only going to tick by as quickly as it does… I must exercise my (lacking) virtue of patience in order to gain the assurance my rationality is looking for.

Notice how I’m not spewing emotional effusions? How I’m not puffing myself up to seem more appealing than I am? I remember with C and S before her (and many others for that matter), I had to try and impress them so that they’d be interested in me, and hopefully, not leave me for someone more interesting. I wanted to keep showing and showing and showing them who I wanted them to see so they’d be attracted to me (especially since my affection was largely unrequited). None of that has happened thus far. I don’t feel any desire to be anything other than day-to-day me, which is refreshing in a way I’ve not known before. I didn’t know what it was like to just be who I am and lay myself bare for exposition, but now I do. She sees me, right through me, to the core, and THAT’S who she wants.

My dialectic continues to leave me in my contemplative wise-mind as I come to terms with the precarious balance of circumstance. It’s refreshing, but scary… trusting, yet unclear. I’m not torn to bits by this, instead, musing and reflective. This feels like what I always imagined healthy would be, and I’m excited to see where my road is going. I know I want her though, not just for now, but for always.

And Then…

After I was through venting my caustic feelings out here in cyberspace over the last few days, I took action. I said “I shouldn’t languish in sadness, I should get up and show myself that I am not resigned to this lonely state. I deserve to find someone who fits willingly and is not squished into a mold.”

Arguably, that’s not an easy feat by any stretch. I can’t control outcomes, but I can demonstrate a willingness to grow and move on. I reactivated my dating profile on my STD site and decided to let that soak. I had an email waiting for me when I resubscribed so I replied to it with interest. That’s how I met “A.”

The last two days have been unreal. Dreamlike even. The magnetism in both mental and physical realms between A and I has produced a type of genuine closeness I didn’t think was possible this early on. Our bodies agree like we’ve had months or years of practice. My safety and hers are top priorities for us both, and part of a foundation of free and honest discourse.

You know, my stark and unfiltered honesty was something that C resented (or feared) rather than appreciated, but A saw my heart and my intent through my expression and opened herself to me fully, willingly and gladly. The initial explosively is a bit scary undoubtedly, but beautiful as well. I’ve never been so blessed to be a part of something like this before, where the mutuality is so… unimaginably wonderful. Intoxicating, yes, but a little worrisome since now we don’t want to be hurt. We’ve each suffered relationship trauma but managed to still find each other with common ground to share. I can’t fully comprehend the circumstance I’m in, and I’m daunted in a lot of ways, but if this is the real thing it proposes to be, I’ll never want again.

Raise your Busch can or red solo cup to a future that I though just two days ago I was going to force someone unwilling to fit into that now someone enthusiastic wants to. What a miraculous turn of events and I couldn’t be more excited! To a future with A!

Squeezed

I’m very glad I have this online domain where I can come and vent out the radical things I feel or think. I have been using this tool for 7 years and it has never been anything other than the place I go to scream or cheer where no one has to hear me. Venting on real people is a kind of abuse (here, let me vomit on you then you clean it up).

I woke up this morning feeling great! It really did help to expunge a lot of my angst and sadness last night over knowing C was not interested in the immediacy of my emotions. Then again, why should she? Our lives are locked-in at this moment, but I’m no fool, and would never abandon my interest in her as a peer and friend over this disconnect in affection. I did want there to be more, but there’s not, and that’s the finality that I often lack in other endeavors. I was hurt last night because my feelings had to go away, but that’s exactly why I vomit on you, internet Blogomites.

The truth of things is still the same in that my trajectory forward is one I look forward to, and am fully invested in. I feel, this morning, very much alive and aware that great things are headed my way (of my own creation). Look at all the shit there is to be excited about blog! So many more positive things than negative… and I have this feeling in my chest like I’m doing the right thing by my life. I know I’m helping and making a difference. Sometimes all the pieces I hope for don’t fall into place, but that doesn’t mean anything to the greater sum of prospects and goals.

I do feel a lot better this morning. Focused. Confident.

I am thinking of making an album that doesn’t have an external focus, but finding the time to just sit and listen to music seems unlikely this week. Pride is coming up this weekend and that is starting to look like I’m going to hit back-to-back 12 hour days. I’m going to do some self-care today and take care of some stuff in my domain and go into work a bit later. Overall, I’m rebounding from my conversation with C last night. Humbled? Fuck no. Infatuated? Not anymore. Despondent? No sir; there was nothing that was lost in truth, only more things to be gained in the future.

Have a day, hopefully a good one.

Mirror

I am this person who strives to improve. I hope that I can better myself and keep things stable in my life. Despite the environmental variables, I think I have accomplished that.

Yet I grapple with loneliness. Like any other man, I have the desires. I have instinct that seek to bind with trusted partners. Having never met a man who can make me feel the way I hope, I often find myself looking to women.

This is an imbedded behavior that I am trying to overcome. I must realize that there is nothing. There is no one. There is just me. I have to stop thinking I’m going to be somewhere other than on the path I built for myself with my mistakes and choices. It’s kinda depressing, but it also has enabled me to stronger than I’ve ever been in my life.

I see it. The way forward is full of brightness and events. New people will be crossing my path every day. Places and circumstances I never thought possible will be realized. So much has changed in the last year and there’s still quite a bit of work left to do.

I’m proud. My future is as bright as it’s ever been, yet it attracts no one. A level of closeness I’ve never had seems to be a level I’ll still not comprehend. With all the good, and all the steps, I’m sure I must reconcile to walk them alone with no one to share in my adventure.

Circumstance and undesirability kept C away despite the clarity of my feelings. Maybe that is what ultimately causes her to realize she didn’t want it. I’m too much. Too big. Too overflowing. But mostly because no one notices me. No one tries to see me. No one will, I think. Like a well shaken champagne bottle of neglected emotions.

I feel sad that this door is closed.

Yet, I have a life full of good people and adventure. There’s a great sum of work to be done and I’m hoping to get out there and do it. With no one to share it with. With no one who understands me. Just me.

I said have a good night, but what I meant was goodbye.

Bound In Whispers

It was the stark tension of ropes,

Screaming distress with thin threads–

Unbound, twisted madly, perilously.

As the gasps shorten–

The incessant gravity,

Holds as it only knows how.

What then if not free?

Do trees tell stories of their youth for the rocks to hear?

Does the pounding sea beg forgiveness of the shore?

I long to exude the song within–

Without taking something away.

Whispering one word at a time,

Where no expanse can prevail–

And no tide can soften into meaningless grains.

It is in the hiss of leaves,

The breaking of day,

That I know.

Mood Album: The Ballad Of Pocket-Friend

In an attempt to grapple with my state of emotional volatility, I have again turned to the medium of music as a coping tool. The process of creating these mixed albums helps me express, but also reflect. This composition I have arranged speaks in two voices: one that yearns in an abstract/theoretical sense, and the other that reminds of the parameters by which reality is confined (often toned by fact or obstacle). I have a great well of feeling, and this album helps me quantify and understand my own emotional arc. There is no conclusion to be drawn in such an unexplored circumstance, but as long as I have the ability to express, I believe this exercise will help me cope effectively.

One of the things I noticed here was I found a lot of common ground with some of the artists I used on my Graceful Sniffer album (Since the subject matter is largely the same). Different songs yes, but same melodic motifs and emphasis.

So far though, things are pretty positive, as this album undoubtedly conveys. I’ve listened to it and I’m pleased with the sort of journey of sensation it took me on… I was singing at some points and wiggling around like a sun-baked worm in others (in a good way). It’s an accurate emotional progression and summary of the place have been recently, am at now and will hopefully be going. Weee! Enjoy if you do compile it yourself:

Album: The Ballad of Pocket-Friend
Length: 74 minutes

  1. My Best Friend’s Girl – The Cars
  2. The Boys Of Summer – Don Henley
  3. American Girl – Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
  4. Whenever I Call You “Friend” – Kenny Loggins & Stevie Nicks
  5. Why – Robert Plant
  6. Biggest Part Of Me – Ambrosia
  7. Sledgehammer – Peter Gabriel
  8. Somebody To Love – Queen
  9. Constant Craving – k.d. lang
  10. Secret Separation – The Fixx
  11. Reminiscing – Little River band
  12. Let’s Groove – Earth, Wind & Fire
  13. Your Wildest Dreams – The Moody Blues
  14. Wrapped Around Your Finger – The Police
  15. Hysteria – Def Leppard
  16. Cloud 9 – George Harrison

Venty Time

This helps. The expression of thought, of feeling, in a safe place that is free of the scrutiny of reality. That people give two shits about this thoughtstream amazes me. Ultimately though,. this space is unknown to my social world.

I need a place to feel without having an impact on anyone directly.

Today I learned an important lesson in my ability to regulate my expression, but it doesn’t mean my feelings have gone anywhere. I just need a new place to express them. A secret place.

So here we are.

I have such an attraction to her body blog… she has that perfect chemical balance where all the smells and the touches are good. I get electric when she’s next to me… it hard to explain. I really don’t want to let C know that though… it doesn’t really help me at all in a practical sense.

She lights me up when we hold each other. Enough to think that I am doing more harm by touching her than good. I don’t want her to feel like I have that lust for her even though I do. It’s not something I will ever know and I’m inevitable going to smash my head against the wall the more I long for that.

I can appreciate her from afar… I know that is no small feat but it is what I need to do right now. We are in the beginning part of our comprehension. These feelings I have are undeniable… but don’t have a place in our discourse. That’s why I have this place. Here I can vent that stuff and keep my interactions with her healthy.

I’m doing the best I can to cope. There’s no denying,. there is only a moment of recognition, then, the archives of irrelevancy.

Unbiffed

I’m doing a lot better mentally since I cratered-out the other day. I recognized my biff, corrected, and began the process of moving forward with a new mindset. I really do harm to myself trying to hastily grab for reassurances, companionship and an end to the affectionless wasteland I’ve isolated myself in. It is a terrain of my own making and I must correct that myself before hoping some outside factor will magically poof me to a new venue.

I don’t want to endanger any of the good things I have going either. I forgot how wonderful it is to be surrounded by people who share a common thread of interest, or many. It can be intoxicating, but that’s (again) on me to regulate. I misconstrue friendship often, adding undesired bonus contexts that often ruin the original thing in my greed.

Thoughts on this help me see my mistakes and correct them with changes in behavior. I can still have all the good things I have been enjoying without the turmoil of the land beyond the radiation zone. I can’t imagine ever getting to the point to needing to explain myself fully, and my precarious circumstance. The ideal I have set out for that threshold is unlikely to be met at all. It could be, but I’m not betting on that no matter how much I long for it. My isolation is for a purpose, and entirely my own fault.

Beautiful as she may be, I’ll only ever be in orbit of her world from a distance where gravity’s distant grip only keeps me from being flung off into space.

 

 

Biff

I probably needed to be reality checked but wasn’t able to do so myself until now. I have a clear view of the important things again, and have fallen back on my active coping tools to help express my nonsensical responses to reality. I need mental discipline. I don’t understand why I’m doing this to myself given how emotionally perilous my life already is. My circumstance teeters on catastrophe and I’m running around doing the best I can to tip the balance.

I am still clearly unregulated. Self-combustible. There’s a lot I have left to figure out, but I’m also aware of the likelihood of solitude regardless of this particular circumstance. I’ve said it repeatedly in this space, but yet, I still don’t accept that fate. I rebel, and have little regard for outcomes while starting the inevitable in the face. Well, inevitable is an exaggeration. I should stop smashing other people in to cookie cutters. It’s my poor decision making that led to my own state, and at least now I understand that.

I’m still going to eat shit at some point in the future, but I’ll no doubt learn something new then as well.

Lessons

Well I did learn that distant relationships with fleeting intimacy don’t work for me. It’s just not fair to S in the end though. I did just abruptly leave after waffling in uncertainty about the irritating nature of our arrangement. It’s my fault for not at least explaining anything. It’s just not possible for me to healthily have that kind of relationship with someone. I snapped off. Blacklisted. Gone. Back to the cell with my broken toys. I am catalyzing. The reagents for my departure were well in place and only suffered my ignition. This is my fault though. She definitely could handle it while I could not at all. She’s right to be angry, but it will fade when her world moves on and I become irrelevant. Or, more irrelevant than I was before. I was already little more than an afterthought, which is not much to lose at all.

Lametown

Well my escapade with S has cratered into the fertile soil of regret. Not that it was unexpected, but I was hoping for some semblance of closeness and got nothing of the sort (either physical or mental) Isolation pervades, and I grow increasingly alone on my island. This is typical, since most encounters I have attempted in the past end in revulsion, rejection and outright dismissal. This time though, I was just acting on the flammable material that was prepped and ready to be set ablaze. S has no real interest in me (or anything going on in my life) and I in her (arguable, I was denied access to her life in full), so it was natural that once the sex was gone there was zero left to hold us together. She was upset at me for walking away again (because I tried once already), but I need to say goodbye.

Realistically, I’m giving up on trying to build this bridge and evict myself from my unwanted isolation. There isn’t anyone who fits the criteria that I keep hoping someone will meet. This is a hopeless procedure and, frankly, I was doing much better without trying to make something happen. I am tired of smashing inadequate results into a lasting mold that fits my bizarre reality. There is no future where settling for whatever wanders past is the right choice, and it never has been. Not saying that happened, but all the applications for building something of value have been turned down upon review.

I don’t harbor anything more than a feeling of sadness, since I am shining brighter than I ever have. Yet, most women I meet can’t wait to escape my radius. I think it’s back to reason and the incremental successes of life. A and I are as far apart as we ever were in our past relationship… with no real gratification, feedback or anything to judge the ongoing value of continuation. What is this simple chat we have? Is it anything other than an activity to occupy a few moments of my time? Is there meaning to be had in these defused and innocuous statements? I tire. I think this might also be a product of my frustration and not indicative of the pattern. I feel no less alone like I hoped I would, or like I did at first. I quickly discovered just because you have people to talk to, doesn’t actually mean anyone really sees/hears you. Or cares.

Profile removed. Chapter adjourned. Now just to clear out the jetsam that has accumulated and start over again by myself. Disappointing? Oh hell yes. Crippling? No, not at all. I have done what my instincts were asking me to do. I tried, I had, I lost. It seems like the road to partnership has been overrun with brambles and foul smelling carcasses galore. I have little reason to go back there until long after the stench of decay has cleared out.

Shelf Of Issues

I don’t know what functional looks like right now. I’m taking the walls of the pit to find a way out. There is no out. Prepare for an onslaught of allegories:

Instead of feeling stable, I feel like there are issues that just get stashed on a shelf somewhere out of sight to promote the impression of not being overloaded. There’s no argument that the stashy is not s solution by any stretch. It’s not even a temporary anything.

Who am I right now? There’s a bunch of different personas colliding in here. Vicarious and pragmatic alike, with a sprinkling of ardent skeptics and jubilant idiots. I don’t know what to make of the lot and their shouting. Who emerges… the ambiguity of leadership falls in line with the rest of my reality.

I don’t know. I think that’s the real deal right now. I don’t fucking know what I’m doing or who I’m failing at trying to be. Am I this adaptable fellow? He’s all bendy and detached from concern. Do I have my “scrutinize the fuzzy shit out if this” pants on? I don’t much like those pants now that I have them on. Have you ever felt utterly lost in trying to understand who you are?

I do admire that adaptability I seem to be warmed beside the glow of. Hopefully it also doesn’t destroy me.

Night Guy Does A Mood Album

Hey Blog, Night Guy here.

This other guy is a kook pretty much now that I’m going over all these notes and things left behind. Anyway, this music medium is how the previous administration tried to convey or interpret a state of being or emotional narrative for processing and comprehension. I’m not as much in to all the fluffy shit that goes along with this activity, but I guess I can scrutinize what has already been made available for me to cast judgement upon. See this album as a prognosis for the former occupant, and an indicator of the turbulent future he carved out for himself. This album is, basically, how it is; sad, stark and laid out there for all to see. Please don’t send me mail about the deeds of the prior administration, it will all get forwarded to the daytime guy.. or whoever he was. He may have fled the country.

**UPDATED**

So after listing to it a couple of times, it just wasn’t Night Guyish enough. I spruced this bad boy up with some silly putty and electric shocks. Enjoy!

Mood Album: Emo-Slave Resurrection v. 2 (Night Guy Edition)

Length: 77 Minutes

  1. For Your Love – Fleetwood Mac
  2. More Than A Woman – Bee Gees
  3. Chains Of Love – Erasure
  4. Ventura Highway – America
  5. Rikki Don’t Lose That Number – Steely Dan
  6. The Other Side Of Life – The Moody Blues
  7. Don’t You Know What The Night Can Do? – Steve Winwood
  8. Feels So Good – Chuck Mangione
  9. The Night Owls – Little River Band
  10. You Don’t Have To Cry – Crosby, Stills & Nash
  11. Owner Of A Lonely Heart – Yes
  12. The Heart Of The Matter – Don Henley
  13. Cowboys & Angels – George Michael
  14. Nothingman – Pearl Jam
  15. Because The Night – 10,000 Maniacs
  16. Conviction Of The Heart – Kenny Loggins

Some Thoughts

I do wonder where the path of my life is headed quite a bit. In terms of my dad, my independent life, my swirling mental health issues being instigated by circumstance… what is to come if me? I have stated before that the ambiguity helps nothing. Instead, it renders fear and doubt, while creating a hostile place for stability to begin.

Patience. There is no salve that will heal. There is no one question that, when answered, provides absolution from doubts. The predator is chance and time draws out the hunt into painful exchanges. I’m hunted by my fears and I’m feeling like that rabbit that didn’t make it.

Masked in functionality is the sense of frustration for circumstantial things that aren’t correctable. Am I doing enough to help my world prosper? What kind of friend am I to myself and others? Who am I becoming as the universe unfolds a future rife with calamity? How I dodge and swerve determines how long I can stay on the path.

There is no answer to this feeling; only finding a way to live with it. I’m bitterly frustrated at times, but also co tent in this place. It’s polar, which seems like a proper fit considering my diagnosis.

Mood Album v. 3

In light of recent turbulence in my world, I’ve tried keeping a better feel on the introspective pulse of regular function. I’m also aware that I’m subjecting myself to an unusually high level of stress and stimuli in an effort to combat creeping depression. I see all the elements like a confluence of rivers forming a mighty torrent… somehow sweeping my brain away downstream or buried in silt. Nevertheless, I still pry open the inner vault of the self and try to understand things happening to and from it. I feel I’m better at some things I used to be terrible at, but still lacking in quite a few areas. What are my true motivations for my actions? Why do I open myself to every nice person that walks by? Why am I such an insatiable prick? What does being understood feel like?

I sit here in my snowman jammies and wonder if expression really helps, or if it just provides a forum for things to garner attention for a time? I think the more ways I can ventilate this shit-smelling barn the better. Activities like the Mood Albums I do are helpful because they give me the chance to craft a narrative in a medium not often used. I don’t think myself anything other than expressive, curious and expositional about my own feelings and path forward. So as of the last album when I was feeling a fair bit gooier than I am now, I needed to revisit my good friend pain, loneliness and rekindle an ongoing desire to see things change.

Tracks from the previous Mood Album: Spatulas & Bandaids are highlighted in yellow. I have pulled from other wishy-washy type albums as well that have been generated in the past. I didn’t go “all in” on the squish, mind you, but it’s there. As you can see, there has been some pretty severe turnover in the track-list. I have listed the previous two iterations below so the whole three-album progression can be seen clear.

Mood Album (v. 3): Splattercake Conjunctivitis

Length: 74 minutes

  1. Mad World – Tears for Fears
  2. If This Is It – Huey Lewis & The News
  3. Walking On Broken Glass – Annie Lennox
  4. Don’t Do Me Like That – Tom Petty & The Heartbrakers
  5. Pamela – Toto
  6. Walk Away – Joe Walsh
  7. I Wouldn’t Want To Be Like You – The Alan Parsons Project
  8. The Voice – The Moody Blues
  9. Move On – George Michael
  10. Back In Black – AC/DC
  11. Falling Away From Me – Korn
  12. (SIC) – Slipknot
  13. Waves – Blondfire
  14. Straight To My Heart – Sting
  15. All Over You – Live
  16. Let’s Go
  17. Don’t Get Me Wrong – The Pretenders
  18. More Than Words – Extreme

Mood Album (v. 2): Spatulas & Bandaids

Length: 73 minutes

  1. Mad World – Tears For Fears
  2. Once – Pearl Jam
  3. Animal – Def Leppard
  4. All Over You – Live
  5. In Thee – Blue Öyster Cult
  6. No One Like You – Scorpions
  7. Mr. Blue Sky – Electric Light Orchestra
  8. The Voice – The Moody Blues
  9. One Thing Leads To Another – The Fixx
  10. Heartbeat CIty – The Cars
  11. Fragile – Sting
  12. Help Is On Its Way – Little River Band
  13. Don’t Get Me Wrong – The Pretenders
  14. The Promise – When In Rome
  15. Best Of My Love – Eagles
  16. Baby, Come To Me – Patti Austin & James Ingram
  17. King Of Pain – The Police
  18. Move On – George Michael

Mood Album (v. 1): Deflatacated Marshmallow

Length: 77 Minutes

  1. Fastlove – Gerorge Michael
  2. Beds Are Burning – Midnight Oil
  3. Mr. Blue Sky – Electric Light Orchestra
  4. Once – Pearl Jam
  5. Animal – Def Leppard
  6. All Over You – Live
  7. Heartbeat City – The Cars
  8. Broken Wings – Mr. Mister
  9. Fragile – Sting
  10. Don’t Get Me Wrong – The Pretenders
  11. The Promise – When In Rome
  12. Because The Night – 10,000 Maniacs
  13. Somebody To Love – Queen
  14. Feels So Good – Chuck Mangione
  15. Baby, Come To Me – Patti Austin & James Ingram
  16. What You Won’t Do For Love – Bobby Caldwell
  17. Harden My Heart – Quarterflash
  18. King Of Pain – The Police

Yearning In Stupidity

I search their names online. I don’t know what I’m hoping to find. Do I expect they don’t hate me? That they somehow have changed? Do all these years help us see something new?

No. It is only pain. There is nothing there but the dead space where something once thrived. If I yearn, I do so foolishly. I hope that the feeling of that love would come back and be strong again. Nothing like that is real. Ever.

I scour for some sight of her. Of them. They just go on living their lives and I might as well be nothing at all. I left no mark. I inspire no second thought. I am a wasted human devoid of value in the scales of companionship.

Of all those I have loved, none wanted to keep me. They tolerated me for a time. Then, no more. I hurt them. Drove them away with my illness. Contaminated myself beyond desire. No bridges can span the gorge.

If J was still out there I’d love her with that fire in me that will NEVER go out. If K had a way to see me, I’d try to fall for her, and if E wasn’t lost in a fool’s dream I’d rekindle the passion we once had.

WHO THE FUCK AM I KIDDING??????

My dreams are utter bullshit. Just another stupid fucking idea my infected, dysfunctional brain came up with to alleviate the unquenchable loneliness. There is no phoenix; nothing will ever rise from the ashes I created. It is gone. Forever. I can’t bear it. It hurts so badly. I’m crushed under it. Decimated. Defenseless. Lost.

Unchanged

Not a lot is different than just a bit ago. I ran a Support Group tonight. It was hard to stay on top of my shit. I did though, and it was really good for me to not have been off pooping my brain-pants somewhere alone. I’m still very wounded, having to let go of K again and returning the things I bought for her birthday. It just reminds me how unrelentingly horrible and abrasive I am to everyone not obligated to put up with me. Regardless of incentives, my repulsion is overwhelming.

I keep looking, but I’m despondent. There is no one. There was only “close,” and now, nothing at all. Scaring away potential partners is something I’m just so fucking good at. I’m, like, nationally ranked at that shit.

Well, fuck. I’m tired, sad, dejected and in a big hole right before bed. I imagine I will again dream of things that torture me as they have of late. I have no one to hold me after a nightmare. I have exactly what I deserve. Rejection. Disgust. Solitude.

Slipping Away / Walking Uphill

I had companionship for a time, but now I am back on my own again. I have been through this before, the tumult of understanding and the gauntlet of truth are punishing arenas in my reality. It is the simple fact of the person I am that has created this division and now removal. I had long ago accepted I would be alone for the rest of my life, and I did appease my sense of unrelenting loneliness by attempting companionship, at least temporarily. Now that my life has gone back to the place it had been at a few months ago, I don’t know how to feel precisely. Am I upset? Not really, but sad, yes. Do I regret? Naturally there are things I can find to blame myself for. Everyone, especially a blundering emotion-tornado such as myself makes mistakes. There are things I know I am and things I try to be, and right now there is a confluence of reasons for why things are now over between she and I. The fact of the matter is simple, and remains.

No one asks for more work in their life or readily accepts trouble into their world. I know I am a great deal of “work,” and trouble in one bundle… there’s just no avoiding that. I do the best I can but here is another example of how that failed. It hurts, very much to lose her, especially after I had developed a fondness, and after we had such wonderful dreams together. Stigma is a wall that can’t often be overtopped, or burrowed under… or even explained away with words. It is damaging, and breaks reason apart with animosity.

Well here we are blog, back to square 1. I am all done trying to find partnership for now. There is no world I see where I find someone who will take on the impossible task of accepting me as I am, and not wishing I could be somebody I never will be. My lesson in all this has been to observe my actions, and decide where to take a next step forward. If anything, I have learned that I am all alone out here (still), and that’s the truth I must stop trying to alleviate. I am my own confidant and guardian, and no one should wrest that from me in the years to come.

Goodbye K. Beautiful, complex, generous woman, you touched my life and lit it up, for a time. You gave me hope, and then dashed it. I know why you did, and I will mourn for us both.

Daddo

My dad has a limited time left with us, and I’m coming to terms with his upcoming death. I see only one path forward; to be there as needed until the end. I’m his son.

I feel everything one would expect me to feel, but I’m not expressing any of it right now. I’ve made the space in our reality for my mom and sister to experience things while I direct reason and action; providing stability. This role I fill helps us endure the hard times to come, but also works healthily for me since nothing gets repressed. The postponement of response is a promise, not a lock on a safe.

I know my time to process is coming, but right now I accept and embrace the role I have filled in this family unit. I am proud to be a member of it, and fighting to keep us from listing.

Will it work? There’s no telling. I have a good support structure in W and K. I need to be able to use my own tools in a crisis rather than always go looking for the answer outside of myself. I must survive with what I have if I am to survive at all.

Beholding

It’s not the wanting–

Like fragments tumble in sparks,

Furiously scatter-lit,

Fill the blackened chamber.

Restrain old whispers–

Haunted hallway-dusted,

Once-clawed firmament.

Between the shutter-slats,

Begging at freedom,

Boldness awaits.

+

I don’t need to process negative symptoms and thoughts when I don’t have any. I just need to keep living my life the way I have been, and allow it to bloom. I’m going to be gone for a while, I’m walking down a new path. Horizon’s shifting glow calls to a future that brings the dawn to the end of night.

The Barrier Dream

A hammering smack the window glass,

The bitter, howling, grey morass,

Transparently the pounding rain–

Flailing madly in disdain.

The view from through the sealed gate,

A contrast by which to acclimate,

Ensnared in comfort’s clinging grip–

With a steaming cup of tea to sip.

Staring out at fury and storm,

Curiously watching while safe and warm,

The moment when I want her here,

A pathway forward not yet clear,

To hold in dreams until a promised time,

When her touch and grace will yet be mine.

Cared For

I wanted to highlight something that happened a couple of days ago. I believe in significant acts, and this was one of them.

I injured my back lifting my dad the other day and it is an area that has consistently given me trouble in the past. These sorts of injuries can vary significantly in severity, and this appeared to be a bad one. It was just about his time that K entered my sphere, and her response to my shabby state was to procure a massage session so I could seek proactive treatment. She, thinking of me, did something direct, relevant and useful to assist me in a way I was not able to do for myself. It was a gift, and a memorable one. I can’t recall the last time someone did this for me in such a poignant way, as a partner. Done in honesty and through concern, there is no more wonderful thing to do for someone than to comfort. She took care of me, and the feeling of it is euphoric.
In the past, I have been in both roles, but still, I can’t recall a feeling like this. I don’t recall ever feeling really cared about in this sort of tangible, fundamentally generous way. Something enduring fuels that bond that is forming, which represents a transaction of trust and understanding. She spoke to me the best way she knew how, and it was impactful. It showed real care, from a very early point in our journey, which in and of itself is a fantastic indicator of trajectory.

It also makes me think about my own past and potential generosity. I will soon have a significant income compared to sitting on a leaky balloon as I have been for many months. I’d like to be able to give back to her as well, in kind, but I will need to find unique and relevant avenues to explore to sate my standards of fairness in the immediate future. I am a contributor first and foremost, and a gracious penitent when provided charity. I have my own conscience to deal with, which recognizes the fragility of this; acts accordingly. I give, and I can’t wait to be back in a position to do so again.

My mood scores have been in the 4 area, which is the high end of normal. I am paying extra scrutiny given the change in environmental variables.

However, it is a fact that I’m elated, what can I say? I’m developing real feelings again for the first time in many years. Unlike the previously employed fake-it-to-make-it salve for loneliness, this is the real fucking deal. It has a hold of me somewhere deep, primal, and magnetic. I’m activated in a way I wasn’t expecting at all.

My physical scores have been wonky since my back, and subsequent rub rub rub ouchy time. I’m doing better though. Heat pad required for a bit and not too much wiggle wraggle.

Things are happening!!!

Compelled

M: 4.5

P: 3

I worked today, and it felt like a real Friday for the first time in two years. I was walking into the weekend with a belt load of credibility, paid hours worked, and a satisfaction of earned stupor. I did deserve this good feeling, this qualified euphoria accompanying a respite from the toils of existence. I feel like my life has finally started to accelerate at an exponential rate towards a glimmering point of light.

I am more involved now in my work and local community than ever before. I’m having to reboot my organizational skills, because I’m juggling more responsibility than ever before. At the same time as that burden is flailing about on a centrifugal axis, I’m feeling strong enough to restrain its pull towards chaos. I believe that this represents a culmination of all the work I’ve put in to refining myself at social awareness, personal responsibility and introspection. From the fragmented person who emerged with a bag of clothes and plastic flip flops from the psychiatric hospital, to right now. Lowest point to highest point (so far), in 4 years, and every positive step built upon the next.

Blog, I’ve met someone special at an absolutely perfect time in my life. Just as I am beginning to transition back to full independence, a miraculous woman has come into my life, and I am thankful to have such a compliment to my own spectacularly fulfilling existence. Her symmetry and mine are stunning, and in a category of imagined personality compositions designated as inconceivable instead of one that might exist.

My loneliness had, until very recently, exposed my past regret and shades of old love eviscerated, caused a great deal of turmoil. In all my attempts to find a partner was a dream for someone who would “fit.” I’ve never really comprehended what a “fit” would be. I had only known one person who had ever really come close, until now. Like a stream of concentrated photons, her arrival blasted through the gloom and dust to reveal a landscape of possibility. I’m infatuated. I’m intoxicated, and having a great time getting to know someone I fully intend to keep in my orbit.

I’ve tried this before. Yes. However, I did so while knowing it was a less than ideal fit. An admitted error of terrible consequence. I was making the best of what was available, or so I justified my transgression. Plus, at those intervals, I sought out of a desire to be complete or propped up to new heights by external adoration. I knew it at the beginning, whether I admit it or not, that I was making a mistake. I didn’t know it would consistently be my undoing, but I was not the introspective being I am now.

at this moment though, I’m complete. Three weeks ago, I was complete. In August I was complete. I wasn’t ever looking to find a missing piece out in the universe. I found a piece that fits that I never even knew could be there in the first place. She augments, adds, compliments and enhances. In this fundamental way, there lies a difference that divides the two motivations for companionship indistinguishably. One destined to fail on the basis of stashed resentment, and the other continuously improving and advancing a mutual circumstance for the benefit of both partners. It’s obvious to you too, isn’t it?

Alike

Things around my planet have taken a shift over the last few weeks. My dad fell, and he’s lost almost all his lower body strength. I’m carrying him now, from place to place. It breaks my heart, and puts me in a difficult spot, knowing my mom is largely helpless to fulfill the physical obligations.

In contrast, I’ve met someone new named K. Things are off to a very encouraging start, and I definitely approve of the direction we are going. There seems to be a very unique parallelism that is entrancing, fascinating and wonderful. Unique in a way that is beyond expectation. My introspection upon this experience has helped me to live thoughtfully, keeping vigilance on my core mental health with much needed objectivity. Relationships have been destabilizing factors in the past. However, several key factors are designating my introduction to K as wholly different from previous attempts.

I am aware though. Keenly. My life depends on me being able to maintain cognitive consistency. The only way I go forward is if I can do so and still be healthy and live my life fully. At this mature stage of my life, I’m able to manage the many aspects of life, keeping an alignment rather than leaning on any one and causing a disruption.

Fuck man, I just got the low down on my work today (first paid day): Coordinating 2 programs, web admin for 2 domains, facilitator for 2 support groups, education program leader, WALK sponsorship chairman for and now outreach director. All that in 20 hours a week paid, but looking more like 35 with all the volunteering required to meet those obligations. I’m fucking GLAD to be this busy, frankly. Being unoccupied is a state I do not enjoy, and doing so while being a resource consumer rather than contributor makes it more difficult to remain positive. Now, I’m giving more than I ever have, and here I am feeling the best I have in 5 years. I must be very diligent about making sure my stability, energy and motivation are maintained over the course of years, with gradual improvements likely. Caution with consideration.

Like I said, things are looking up for me. Working hard and living with pride is a pretty rewarding path, I’ve found.

Just Now…

A sudden mallet shatter. A window blasted open. Sun rays beaming. A world of dust cast into the light. This new turn is a portent of happiness.

The soot brushed away. Flattened cardboard. Curled paper. Crumpled into piles and heaved into the shadows.

Testing cautiously. Pain once so near. Thoughts are below but now rising above. What more awaits to be discovered I will soon learn. A journey of shared experiences.

Everless

Twins of twilight–

Pixie-blink a flicker,

The grounded stars dance,

Hands catching–

Their fires alive.

Back across the stretching sky,

Racing alone to a distant–

Faded horizon.

Dust falls to ash,

Dimming until dark again.

To Have Hope

Believing is not about probability of success, but a choice to craft a purposeful prelude to a desired reality we hope comes to pass. In some extension or another, expectation has a secret that is the most desired result, but it is well hidden underneath the likelihood of disappointment.

I hope to be reached, but I realize also I never will be again. In this situation, I believe in both possibilities while not dedicating myself to permanence of one or the other. Sure I could be happy and fulfilled by love, and that would be fantastic. However, I’m also prepared to die without anyone knowing me any more than they do today.

Why we have to only believe one thing is beyond me. Are we incapable of comparative or contrasting thought? Must we always choose, when no choice is actually needed? I used to be an absolutist, but no more. I can be pessimistic of my chances, yet still vibrantly hopeful and not abandoning the possibility of hope for something more.

Well, there seems to be no movement (for now) in the distant aspiration of online companionship, and my current investment will terminate early February; representing the end of this period of heightened searching. It is good to acknowledge my emotions with effort, while not being driven mad by lack of tangible result. What meaningful increment can there be in such an environment if spinning variables?

I write now as I am alone. Maybe one day I will look back on this in reflective sadness, or in admiration. My life is brilliantly bright right now, and has ample chances to improve. I believe in me, and whatever comes will be accepted regardless.

Alternate Universes

My thoughts run tonight, bucking through the crisp air. J is back in my thoughts, as she has been of late, and always to a lesser extent. I can’t help but spin alternate realities where she brings a stabilizing force to my family dynamic and a new balance is achieved. A place where her quirky, clever humor and woman’s perspective provided balance and helped us feel equal together. Laughing with frequency and living in a state where stability was enjoyed. Dreamy, bleary and almost laughable at just how far from reality it actually is.

The world is cruel, and through it I too have also acted cruelly, and kindly. All at the wrong times, it would seem. Now that the alignment of her life and mine has passed, there is no going back to change what has already been written. The view that accompanies this thought is inevitably folly.

I’m embracing my life now as a caretaker and forever disciple of family. It is so nourishing to protect those we love, and do our best to preserve their safety. I only have so much I can give, but what I have, I do. I love them and I will help guide them to peace in whatever way I can. In my dreams, I reach out to J and open my arms to her again, despite the furious rage she has aimed at me. I have always known her regardless. Somehow, there is peace again.

I can’t help but long for a parallel reality as my own comes under strain. I always imagine one with her in it, when I project myself forward. She is still just as jubilant, having not been thrashed by my disorder. I see so many alternate realities where we coexisted splintering off into infinity.

She opened me up: I got tattoos and pierced my ears, and she exposed me up to a world I had never known before, but was curious to explore. I too gave her things as our paths intersected often once we grew. But I was a fool, and so was she. In thus reality, she may have been able to, but I was never going to live that dream.

Night falls on a turbulent evening. It’s at times like this that I feel truly alone, with no confidant within my bubble to relate myself to. I remember having that though, and it is the greatest joy of my life. For a time, I was blessed.

As in my current predicament, I am granted the strength and stability to endure the changes my family is going to transition through. I am fortunate. I can do more. I will do more for them.

I have dreams. They will forever say dreams. I look back, and I am filled with regret.

I just know I will never be over her.

25th

Arbitrary as it may be, today is a period of celebration for many. I spent mine with family, sharing in the festivities prescribed. Though, the paradigm shows its flaws at regular intervals, the 25th being no exception.

There are plenty of things to be frustrated by just floating around out there in and around our lives. I’ve tried to focus my frustrations on things I design to change rather than be needlessly stressed trying to address things I can’t. Still though, I find time to pound my skull against the concrete despite all my good intent. Reality is undeniable if viewed honestly.

All the good from today was a frothy mug. I feel all full of bubbles and food, which, now that I write it, doesn’t seem like a wonderful thing even though it is.

One thought keeps passing through me: how to cap this fountain of emotion surging from underneath? Can I ever just eradicate her from my concerns? Is there a file I can delete and cripple the program from running? Stupid sounding thoughts are conceived in a turbulent environment, and give away their absurdity when scrutinized.

No answers. No more new words or peace. No absolution, only the shattered mirror of imperfect memory. I haven’t turned my sadness into hate, because I know there is no satisfaction there… only a burning within that consumes all that stoked it to frenzy and carried it forward.

Just like a phoenix, there can still be rebirth even after the fire has burned through seemingly everything. I believe in that fully, even though I did not experience that situation personally. I have that shard of glowing hope inside where I see her wings burst forth from the soot of her spent rage. Life finds a way to be lived despite our best intentions sometimes.

As the new year approaches, I am now wondering how I will rise out of my own metaphorical sludge to a more liberated and compassionately introspective state. There is no end to the future possible advancements in self care, as far as I can see.

Merry Christmas to you all.

J Sequence

Her face was here again. This time, her cuteness expressed in toy-batting playful behavior and boisterousness. I remember most keenly that she was with some friends of mine she never knew, captured in home video handheld camera nostalgia. In a booth at the restaurant, they gathered for a lunch that had and will not ever take place.

Earlier, I was delivering a sermon, saying “hosannah in the highest” and “praise be to God” before a massive crowd of soldiers with spears and axes. They waived their weapons of war and cheered in their clanking armor.

Some of my friends were doing a stage play before the sermon, which pleased the soldiers greatly. My friends were dressed is little old men in white robes and had little candle holders in their hands. They all three scooted out into the stage barefoot while a man in a gold cape tried to reach out and grab them from the wings while I held on to his flappy and tattered cape.

J looked beautiful. Her hair was kinda poofy, like she had styled it. She was on video playing with a keychain toy the dentist gave her in his office, then eating food at a restaurant with my old friends, mentioned earlier. She was eating a plantain it looked like, and the food she was attempting to conquer was too big to fit in her mouth. She laughed at the situation in that joyous way she does.

There was fire burning the land earlier, before J was anywhere. My old home had been reduced to ash as I saw from above. The fire was still burning over a few ridges. Smoke billowing up into the blue sky.

It wasn’t just me watching J, my whole family was there gathered around the TV of my childhood home. We were commenting on how cute she was and that she didn’t know she was on camera. My mom laughed while J spun the little keychain around on her finger as her eyes chased the toy, spinning around in the air.

At that moment, even though a screen and distance divided us from each other, I knew she was still a fit in this family, and a part of us somehow.

Waking up alone and too early, I wonder quietly if she is out there somewhere thriving, living a new life that is entirely her own. Once she flew away, I could not see. I do not know, or truly want to know, because there is no reality comparable to the one I’m in when I sleep.

Tomfoolery

The time for celebrating is nigh Blog. After all this time volunteering, I’m gainfully employed nearly at full time starting in January. I’m an employee of NAMI Sacramento and Mintz Computer Guyz for nearly 30 hrs/week. This is enough to replenish my lost savings and then some. What a relief that is!!!

I hear my negative voice trying to put a damper on my progress. It says: “you’re a liar and a crook. Your soul is black and you destroy everything you touch. You will bring only destruction to these people and your so called work.”

While I appreciate how much that voice hates me, evidence speaks to the contrary. I am valued in my occupation for my honesty and legitimate results. My heart is full of effusive joy, and I make those around me desire my company. I build things with effort and work, and promote a positive future for myself and others. I bring the advancement of goals and fulfillment of possibilities to all things I apply my passion to.

The proof is right here in front of me; laid out in deeds and actions done. That negative voice from within or without doesn’t have much fact to base a claim of ineptitude. I look at the proof of assumption and see the truth.

The voice demands a polar reality, where any transgression is tantamount to the worst conceivable result. Inflation, roiling resentment and unending hate are the motivators for this contributor. So, as I have with other persistent negative voices, I’ve learned to tune them out.

It is a tough habit to break, the indulging of the voice. We listen to it sometimes. Believe in the self-destructive lies. A pattern repeated until learned away from. I have not finished indulging that voice… which takes in the potent form of someone once loved (but now jailed in resentment).

The voice is only as sustainable as the environment allows. Once the climate is positive, it doesn’t make sense to listen to it anymore. I hope for more days like that ahead, as the barrage continues regardless.

Solstice

The days are growing again, slowly, coming to bear full as we travel around and around that big yellow thingie. We have been pointed at darkness for long enough, I say.

I’m hoping not to dream anymore. Rips are forming in my canvas, and the formerly delightful introspective brush set seems to paint only in black. It is this dark hour, when cuddling up by a warm seem the most honest if truths, that I mourn. I yearn, pointlessly.

The sun is coming. From out the shadows, it is blooming, growing. Radiating. I wish for that return to the hissing summer ghosts on the dry wind. The far away pollen smells of distant places, deep wet mountains and trees gulping in and breathing out.

Maybe this is it. Maybe not. It’s better to be prepared to deal with a difficult outcome than to be surprised by it. I can be surprised by all sorts of other things, but not calamity.

Down to the last few days before Christmas. Family, friends, fire… and freaking huge buds. Beer, bread and BADDA BOOM! We do know how to have a good time.

I do t think anyone is getting in the circle now. Not anyone new. It’s just too late.

Threadbare

A sinew;

Twisting, stretch-snapping the expanse,

Shredded down to an impossible wire.

But feeling it there–

Some thread still binding,

In unrequited twitterpation,

Escaping the fury of torment,

Yet yanking at the throat–

Scraping the hole left by death.

It’s only in dreaming–

That some bridge still exists,

A span still endures,

Where she can still be found.

L

Down is there under the mask.

In the flesh itself.

Broiling with fever just underneath.

It is a pressure.

A slowly increasing a downward force.

Feeling bones crunching and snapping.

It is a beat of the heart.

Agonizingly drawn out and scrutinized.

Grasping for purchase where there is none.

Pulsing, gulping and sputtering on.

It is the mirror of memory.

All the second guessing and reassessing.

Spinning alternate fates.

Musing on impossible realities.

Wishing to live in a dream instead of life.

Saddened by the depths of dejection.

Wilderness-bound, cold and wandering.

Screaming only where no one can hear.

Real

Where is this place? My feet are not on the ground. I am compelled by the gusts of pain, upon an uncertain wind of remembering. How to escape it? Flee to some other world where things are different, albeit temporarily. Long for rest where dreams may bring me near to someone I used to love. A pervading sense of ongoing solitude restricting my oxygen. The waves crash ceaselessly. Pounding the craggy shore. Again and again.

I wish my pinky toe would die and fall off my foot. All it brings is pain, being a magnet for hard corners.

There is no resolution here, only an ongoing application of filter to restrain the localized toxicity of reality. The bitter bile of truth, ingested agonizingly.

Original J

Before Ja* there was Je*, and last night I was again visited by a spectre of my past. in Je*’s relationship, there was a very physical, carnal, fuel abundance. My dream ventured deep into the entwining moisture of sex, the spontaneity of passion, the strip-down clothes-shredding-seizure that ensures when the moment is nigh. But yes, there was still that anger and conflict. Even amidst that largely satisfactory arrangement, there was the tension of misunderstanding, the vast gorge filled with resentment looming. The fire burned fast, flickered, and then was gone forever.

It is emblematic of my past relationships. Starting with an explosion of similarly mirrored energies, then dwindling as the strands tear in the drift. It makes me wonder if I am going to be alone for the rest of my life. It makes me wonder if I am even capable of being a good partner. It reminds me of what it feels like to be loved by no one who doesn’t have to.

Insane Mumblings?

After a night of purging my emotional turbulence (see below), I find myself again, reflectively pointed toward action. Even after all the castigation and ridicule I subjected myself to, those pestering voices tend to get quieter when I’m being proactive in my life or meaningfully responsible, or using the evidence of such to validate the truth. This helps me do battle with that negativity when it shows up, most of the time. I tend to be more rational than spontaneously emotional, so going back over my thoughts and feelings helps me quantify and understand my responses to things. My reaction to J memories returning has been to vent, which I suppose is working in some ways. However, there is no real cohesion to a response or a course of action.

However. there is not a fundamental desire to make this a focal point of my ongoing life, even with some gesturing. Instead, it has taken a passenger’s back seat to several other priority items. Right now, I think I am my most well equipped to be a functional communicator In my life, however, not rushing to fill the space a partner would have. I still yearn for something abstract, shaped like a nostalgically recalled relationship I once had that was seemingly wonderful. None of that is rational. The assignment of emotions and blurriness to the memory is harmful at best, and arbitrary in nature since any number of other emotions are attached this way as well, and not destructively.

I see my wound, that place inside me that is still hurt, but there is no action to take, no tool to pick up and use. I just get up, and continue walking forward undeterred. She and I hurt each other, and now that pain reminds me of how not to fall into a similar situation, for myself or anyone else. My learned diligence as a result of my collapse has helped me take on the responsibilities I have today, and the fulfilling life so-far crafted. It was a scarring, agonizing lesson to fail, lose everything, reboot… and I still remind myself of that failure, as has been apparent.

What am I doing? I’m coping through expression, the best I can, to deal with my mixed up feelings and try to appease the part of me that is still fractured and splintered with pain. If I will never be able to help her resolve her pain, then at least I can work to resolve mine. It frustrates the logic motor to have nothing to “do,” per-say, no way to repair or permanently heal, other than to do one’s best obelisk impersonation for as long as possible. Survive, learn, and adapt. The pain will never stop, but it does not have to be a focus as it has been of late…

View From Below

I find myself engrossed in the mud of memory, slipping Back with each grueling step forward. There is sadness dragging me down, forcing me into the decompositional murk.

It is J. The memory of her. The impact she had in my life. After 4 years, the sting of her absence is just as real as the day she flew away. I know not how no let go of that pain. I feel her like a piece missing in my soul; at the very core of who I am. She reached me like no other, and I must accept she is gone forever.

I have not been able to do this because I still love who she was. I still love what we had when it was beautiful. She understood me like none before, and now she will never come back. The pain I feel here is something years have not reduced. Her departure is as fresh and bloody as any recent wound. Now, during this warm and family time of year, I miss her the most.

In times like this, when I remember, I tend to reflect in order to preserve my sanity. Having no word from her but another hateful disconnect in our frail communications is all I have left to remember her by. Her animosity. Accusing me of rape. She must truly despise me, which is a pain I must accept. I hurt her beyond repair, and now… now I am scum. A criminal. A pile of dirt. I wish. I wish she could see how I still love her. I wish she knew.

Blog, I come here to express, not to resolve. Unless clearly stated, my feelings are cast out into the ether with no expectation of understanding or compassion. I have only my own life to answer to.

I got a job today, and now I will have an income. I am a part of a team growing into future successes and possibilities. A whole new life built on pride and honesty is available for me. It is a future brighter than I have had in a very long time. I wish I could share it with her. I wish she was here with me, in these joyous times. I love her. I will not be able to stop, even if she wishes I was dead. All the wishes in the world will fall into the endless silence. There will be no reply. The dead do not respond. My broken place remains as it was, ever hoping, never knowing.

Daily Plop

How fragile the whole thing is. Just a scratch and the blood pours forth. Right there, still, after all this time.

And yet her vibration is hatred. Animosity, rage, disgust. How does one reconcile such a schism? There is no way forward from back there. Such deep prolonged sadness. A terrible regret for such a thing to go unreconciled.

Alas there is no answer. Just hopes cast like screams into the wind. Carried off again to some unknown fate, there is nothing left to hope for. No trace left to be found.

Deep in the dark, alone, I wonder where she is. Does she still feel me, the way I feel her? I tease myself with impossibilities yet always hold out true hope for a future that has almost no chance of being possible.

Music scrapes away the armor. Recollections of deep potency. These and many other tribulations of the heart of someone lost. Spinning down into a space filled with cold. I have not been the same since then, and I’m still figuring out how to be at peace with having lost her.

Stargazer

Streak burning green across the stars,

Puffy warm breaths at Jupiter and Mars,

Frozen cheeks stare in awestruck wonderment,

At surprises revealed by atmospheric turbulence,

Holding hands tight beneath the warm blankets,

Sky polished and bright for the great royal banquet,

Beneath the black cloak eyes ache for sleep,

For this fanciful dream he will always keep.

Under

Taken back. Days that seem brighter in their nostalgia. Is it misplaced fondness, or some bleary portrayal obscured beyond reality? I doubt there is a polar answer, but an amalgamation of both imagination and scar tissue.

Dreams can be triggers. Who was she to have left such a deep mark, one I have never healed from? It seems impossible, but it isn’t. The pain is very real. It’s with me always.

Numbered pasts. Counted scenes. Missed chances. How different would it have needed to be to have sustained? Are there parallel universes where we are still?

Drowning in my thoughts is s fitting way to disappear into unconsciousness.

Dreaming Again

It started with a big social gathering at some neutral site. J was there, but she wasn’t how I remembered her: she was tanned, rounder but absolutely beautiful. We sparred with playful words across the ballroom then retreated to the side. I saw what I felt was true in her eyes.

There was a house, but it was Kyle’s house. I don’t know anyone named Kyle, but we were both invited to go to stay. The house was huge beyond comprehension. I was on the top floor with my cat in a room that was strewn with papers, books, clothes and other loose objects. Other cats were lingering outside my door which worried me.

She was in another room somewhere, but we were so far apart we had to call each other on the phone to talk. We expressed our explicit desires, intentionally, and fully.

When i found her in the house, the same fire she had from my memory of our past was there as we tossed, giggled and touched lips briefly in our private bedroom. There was untapped passion there, just on the edge of revelation. We did not go to all the places we could have; there was ecstasy in savoring the moment.

The house began to spin. I stumbled to find a way out. I tried to rescue my cat as it was assailed on all sides by resident cats. They attacked, clawed viciously. I grabbed them by the scruff and tossed them away, but they kept coming.

I made my way to the bottom, but kept tipping over, crashing into things, scattering books across the floor, hitting the ground and getting back up. I got out, but fell down on the concrete curb outside, for the last time. She was there, but she couldn’t rouse me as my consciousness slipped away. She wished desperately that I would wake, but I was gone.

Kyle’s house was on the shore, and as I looked out for the last time, the tide was coming in.

Untethered

C Score: 2.5

E Score: 1.5

The drag of time. A hook sunk deep into the meat, constraining and directing. Sometimes questions are louder because they can’t be quickly answered, if at all. Screams echoing in the chasm. Where ambiguity pervades, depression follows.

I don’t long for companionship in a way that dictates action, and have no motivation to flip reality upside down to satisfy the ache. In the end, I’m too enmeshed to risk toppling stability over an uncertainty. Knowing when to extend is a talent I’m getting better at. Still, old harmonies remind, and invite a reprisal. The palisades and balconies in my dreams are the only vistas she still makes sense in. This figure who is with me. Whoever she has or will be.

I’m lost to old glimpses. My edifice paraded by uneasy crowds, ingloriously, in a city frothing with unrest. Little more than an icon from a long dead time. My world is made of things that can’t be forgotten.

Maybe the next few upcoming days will provide some clarity, or maybe there is no escape from the shadow of love. For all my griping, I remain untethered.

Evening Thought-Purge

Reflecting after group, I see how common issues build bridges of compassion or understanding. I’m feeling extra introspective:

I keep hoping I’ll dream about J like I did a few weeks ago. She’s the only echo left… all the others have faded into nothing. In my dream, we had a strange encounter, but it reminded me of several aspects to my past feelings that feel very real now. In that moment with her, things were like they used to be… a familiar sort of estrangement. A sense of elusive excitement. It was a piece I could hold in my hands that now is shrinking down into nothing.

I know I’m not doing my best. I have recently, but not anymore. My best is too expensive; all I can afford is meh. Dwindle.

Longing for spark, or poof & rabbit. The friskyfied feelings. The electric arcs fingertip snapping their crackle. I remember what it was, that I had it, but that was long ago it seems.

This is a fool’s errand.

The cauldron churns some new rancid elixir which will grant stupendous charisma at the cost of unfathomable isolation.

Course Change

I’ve decided to change therapists and go back to the one I had a rapport with in the past. I need to be challenged not placated, based on my current standing. ML has been much more useful to me in the past as an introspective coach which MB was not. I need advanced thought-level conversations about my mental state. I look forward to catching up and starting a new chapter with ML and jettisoning MB.

On the other hand, I still struggle to reconcile my feelings. I ache a bit with loneliness, but I also have a flare and passion for where I am now. I’m trying the dating site again, as indicated by my probe post. I have no investment in it honestly, other than it be a guide for others to be filtered through if applicable. So far, no one has survived the crucible of my derangement, as was expected. The standard has to be high because anything less is unsustainable.

Do you ever find yourself saying: “what the fuck am I doing right now?” I ask this of myself daily, as if it were something to be regularly challenged. Truth is I don’t check often enough. I still fall victim to the aches and agonies of the past. The palatable longing. It lingers, renews and ultimately, remains.

I also have little made up interactions in my head that never happened in real life because the voices inside my head are responsible. These exchanged are nonsensical at times and nearly always fictionalized in some pleasing way. There is no resolution to some past events, and that is a fate I have come to accept. The pain involved is unbearable at times, which might be why my wounds remain freshly agitated. I don’t think I’m alone in this predicament.

Well, things bloom promisingly on the horizon for me, while Critical Susan is murmuring foul things into my ear. It’s a world full of different voices saying what they need to say. Their overall impact is still, hopefully, mine to decide.

Ed.

A full day of training behind me, and one step closer to another employment qualification. Signature Program Leader… sounds pretty fucking real, eh? This accomplishment will undoubtedly take its place with myriad others to represent the structure of success I am erecting. All that LEGO training is paying off!!

I’ve changed in the past few years. Truly, the environmental variables and my own emphasis on progress have promoted my success (yes, there is many of success, just look at all these bricks). Even as I say that, I’m laying in bed exhausted. Each component of the structure that has contributed to where I am now has been difficult to set into usefulness. An arduous proposition, even. That’s why I know the foundation is strong; it was built with now calloused hands, thousands of hardened bricks and the inflexible rigidity of mortar.

Right now though, I’m tired, snarly and generally looking to push the power button until the screen shuts off. I’m all done for today. I would wager this is a familiar state for many who push themselves despite mental illness.

Tonight though, I hope I do not have troubling dreams. Visitations from the loves who are lost. Splintered memories of joy and agony. Mortal danger. Fire. Death. There aren’t many things I look forward to anymore, but uninterrupted, fulfilling, restful sleep is clearly high on that list. When maintaining mental stability is the concern, priorities change along with expectations.

Upon further reflection, I feel… integral. Zipper-like. I’m a part that would be missed if it were gone. I don’t have an incessant desire for self destructive behavior to combat regularly, so usefulness is a motivator instead of an antidote.

Basically, I’m satisfied being one of a select few who have any idea just how fantastic I am. I’m sorrowful that the number will be low, and companionship impossible, but my vivacious charisma will still infect this vulnerable world with unrelenting smart-assery, poignant sarcasm and deadpan, monotone responses that do not make any sense.

Gibbersplats

I was accepted into a very selective training class to become a mentor for NAMI. This has occupational relevance as well as financial. One more step towards sustainability of independence.

A spark of direction! Purpose! The beacon attracting so promisingly in the echoing dark. It is incentive for a cause for living curiously. One never knows what is to come.

Speaking of echo… the vacillating barrier between what is pined for and what is happening continues to churn undecidedly. I have come to expect unrest as the new operating norm.

Living with uncertainty can be taxing, right?

I have terrible dreams. I see places, symbolic of present time and illusively representational of the past. Fire consumes my flesh as I die. The plummeting abyss beckons me forward, pulling me down with the incessant of gravity. Inching. These troubling portents cause dire warnings to sound out internally. The vividness of nightmares float up to momentary prominence because of the importance of the residual byproduct created by resetting the conscious mind, which provides them the necessary buoyancy to be remembered.

Gone. Gone. Gone. Gone… gone. Still I hold the thread tightly.

I haven’t seen her avatar since that night several days ago in that perplexing dream. Nothing absurd or skewered with context in the meantime. An ever pervasive fantasy to just to hear her words, know her thoughts. There is nothing. It is gone.

What will we learn when we can see far enough into the past to find out how it started? I mean, that in both a mentally local and literally cosmic sense. One day we will actually unveil the distant reaches of the past, but solely to learn a truth we had not known. One day I may be able to let go of my own reaches, for there is nothing more to be learned, and no path forward that begins there.

Ficky-Foog

I’m seeing that there are a stack of factors contributing to my degraded mental health in the last few weeks. In my effort to be constructive, there are some steps I’d like to take in addition to diligence respected since last required. On that specifically: the one activity I have neglected has been my exercise, which I am suspending only because of the air quality. My recognition of the state of emotional decline does not have a logically rationalized outcome, despite my brain trying to address it as such. Some factors simply have to be understood or accepted as they are. I don’t have any sort of spirituality, but I do have a sort of faith that my own struggles were necessary to harden me into who I am now. How I proceed with my “struggle” will define who I am, what I stand for and provide a path forward from despair.

The accountability of self-honest justification binds me. Period. I wear such shame from the past as it is now… crushing shame. Memories I can’t ever erase or actions I cannot undo. Why would I further burden myself with new regret when life under the weight I have can be relentless? When I stare into the mirror, I see someone who I was ashamed of, for a time. How should I spend these precious additional days I have been granted? What is going to help alleviate the burden on my consciousness? What must I do to not continue to be someone I regret being?

I don’t feel anything but agony in surrender. I do not have zero worth. No one has zero worth. There is always something within that is 100% unique. I have that too, and it enables me to give back honestly, proudly. In the end, I’m only looking at myself. Only I have seen the whole journey. Can I ever be truly understood, or better yet, who would want to know? I contend that may not be anyone who would care enough to untangle such an elaborate, confounding knot.

I try to measure reality in terms of variables that are unlikely to change, and ones that are. I have moved companionship to a nearly inactive state, which has its own consequences. I have been in a mode where the avenue to this potential emotionally effusive destination is little more than a cul de sac of my own consternation. Having changed as much as I have in recent years, I begin to feel a glimmer that I may have acquired the skills to, at least, increase the probability of being successful. Maybe I’m sabotaging myself by having a standard of expectation to high to be met or to high to be rationally deserved. All I have left to do is experiment with the variables I can change, and hope for a positive outcome of some kind.

This blog has always been my thought stream splash pad, and now more than ever I am glad I have a place I can go to work through the various responses to my symptoms and changing factors in my circumstance. To survive, and not be at the mercy of my surroundings, my behaviors, actions, thoughts and expectations have changed. Is this a 2.0 moment, or are we still in beta?

Toxicity

The world is swimming in poison. Is it any wonder I have such conflicted states? The environment is a variable. That contribution is destructive.

I can’t blame the air. I don’t blame. There is only here, now. I have a chance to set on in a better direction. I’m learning, adapting. Change is constructive.

Many days under the shroud.

Two Night Terrors

I was all nicely dressed, in this massive office building. It was clear that I had just given a presentation or something, and I was packing up and mingling With indistinguishable dream people. I was so distracted that I forgot my computer bag on the filing cabinet as I left.

I was walking out to the parking lot and a friend from high school (BD) ran out after me just to tell me I had forgot my bag, but when I looked back across the parking lot I was stunned…

In the night sky behind the hill and row of offices and houses, a red and orange glow was growing brighter. Then, towering, carnivorous flames emerged on the hill and rapidly began to descend. An unrealistically massive wall of consuming fire bore down in hunger.

I remember the wind. It was violent, tornado-like even. Houses were being ripped apart, glass was flying everywhere, debris was strewn on the ground. The fire devoured the city before me, and I ran in thinking I would go back for my computer. I did not make it out.

Poised on an odd carpet saddle-like bucket seat on the edge of a thousand foot drop over cities, towns and homes, I was somehow needing to move a collection of small objects to relative safety away from the perilous edge.

My hands were sipping with sweat, and I felt things could slip through my grasp and fall into the world below. The howling wind tore at me, begging me to fall to my death, pushing me with each insistent gust. There were people down there, lives, unaware of my situation.

My fingers and toes burned with nervous panic each and every second that my legs dangled freely over the immense expanse, and having so many things I needed to move back from the edge was an overwhelming concern. My hands were slipping and jittery. The computer tower was so big and heavy… how was I going to move this away when it was so close to falling? The wind kept pushing me closer, closer.

Exfoliate

All this revisiting of my past, and for what? It seems like an inherently counterproductive venture, but I assure you it’s not. Note that I don’t spend much time acutely regretting, chastising or otherwise reiterating failures. I must know now to then know better later on.

An irreconcilable divide. The constant gaping wound. Just one trigger unleashed a series of impassioned posts. I wasn’t expecting to go there, but I did, and gladly. I’ve had positive thoughts about the way I processed all these images and feelings.

The gain is strength from acceptance. The past goes on unchanging, but each new step carries the memories. How to address that effectively? I write. A lot. I write as much as it takes to exfoliate the brain meat.

I have tons of stupid fucking thoughts. Don’t you? It’s hard not to judge even though it’s my brain.

The consciousness glops like cold molasses out of a drippy faucet. There is no good time for brain. Only time.

Unforgettable

Seeing her shifting through the periphery of my attention, she radiated warm waves of indulgent excitement as we drove. I snared infrequent glimpses of the smooth cheeked beauty, flashing and vanishing erratically in the sulfuric light of the passing street lamps. Ringing and abounding with jubilant laughter, she sighed, and held out a slow burning ember from within; about to be set ablaze by a gust of cool, fresh air. The curl of her grin was laden with intent, desire and a sense of belonging despite the circumstance of being apart and constrained. Though, that was no barrier for her.

Her intent, a crackling wave of incendiary heat, sending tinder sparking and popping to tiny burning pieces… vanishing into the night sky. Smooth, wet, and eager, there were no bounds to her, no ties that could shackle her in place; no star that could outshine her glimmering brightness.

Where the world was, or what it was doing no longer mattered; what remained in the bristling atmosphere between us was a transcendent state of acceptance and acknowledgement. We saw each other briefly, and in that mutual space where our desires met, there was profound togetherness.

But even as this tempering realization was present, the electric spark of her youth, curiosity, fearlessness and desire became the direction of her hasty actions. In boundless, oblivious ecstasy, there was no time that was not ours, no boundary we could not cross together, no one else in the world who mattered… no fire like the one that was in her eyes she she beheld me. Though, beset by my own limiting discretionary conservation, it was not out of disapproval for her that we returned to the world… and this I hope she knew. 

There were times that I saw her, and many more in which I could not, or failed to. Where was the objectivity I needed then… was it always there but undeveloped? I contemplate my journey, drawing no needless conclusions and refusing to sully beautiful recollections with my frustrations, failures and ineptly accepted concessions. 

…Flickering light, casting those brief shadows across her curves, her frisky hair… and the recognition of such beautiful physical harmony that we shared.

Deep in past moments such as these, where I still see her smiling, I know that life has blessed me with memories I will never forget. They resound poignantly, which I cherish, for the many feelings of her love are not unknown or forgotten, but remembered forever. It was a time when I touched happiness, held it even… if not to eventually let it slip away. The nights we had, like the memory above, remind me of how wonderful the world can be. Even if I do not live this life now, I still hold my experiences as the most valuable, formative and essential knowledge of my journey thus far. Without them, I would not know the spectrum of all there is to experience while being alive. 

 

Birdy Letter Revisited

A letter I have written before, but write again as the clarity improves to the benefit of my understanding. For my heart, for my mind, these words are sent:

~~

Dear Birdy,

There seem to be no words that can be said to bridge the span that lies between us, but I am nevertheless compelled by my conscience to send these words out into the expanse as a mark of my intent, truth and the desire of my heart to be at peace:

In my life, I have transitioned from state to state, trying to achieve stability with my mental illness since I was diagnosed. In my right, back when we first met, I lured you unknowingly into that turbulent dynamic and you were destroyed by it in many ways because of my inability to prepare you for it. I did not adequately equip you for how to respond to my mental illness effectively, nor did I remotely or appropriately respond to yours when you called out for help.

I remember in the truck one evening with you coming home from my parent’s RV. I was stoned and you were a bit tipsy. You remembered a trauma about your old best friend and I was chastising you for thinking about something from the past, like it wasn’t important because it had already happened. I think back on how you were hurting that night, with tears in your eyes, and it breaks my heart. You were calling out to be comforted, and I just argued with you, scolded you. I was not able to see the way to hear your pain, and acknowledge your trauma, or even to comfort you when you are feeling vulnerable. I failed then. I know it, and I accept that I must grow to do better. I am sorry for this time, and the many others like it.

I did not have the tools to communicate effectively with you or express my feelings to you appropriately. I was not able to help you, when you needed a partner, a friend, someone to trust. This disparity and neglect is my greatest regret, for the beautiful person you are was hidden by my inability to see you, address your feelings, and be the partner you needed me to be. I was not a healthy person and did not deal with my issues in a functional, sustainable way in the time that we knew each other. I lied to you, hid things from you, and never told you how I felt inside. The lesson of my inability to sustain our relationship has taught me the skills I needed to survive further calamity and caused me to regret the missed opportunity to have done better with the woman I loved more than any other.

I am responsible for harming you, abusing you mentally, psychologically… because of my unchecked disorder and poor coping skills. My sanity was not consistent, and I was reeling in the end, compensating poorly, neglecting frequently. I have a great deal of ongoing shame over this which keeps me thinking about how I can be a better communicator in my future interactions. I was not the person I needed to be to have properly participated in a relationship, and for all the damage that caused to you, I am sorry. With a pain that I feel every day, I am sorry for what happened between us. I have never been over it.

There is no word, or words that can take away the trauma, the pain. I must bear that responsibility forever. I have done what I can to learn and listen or try to. I am accepting of my part, but only hoping to release the emotional burden by the recognition of spoken, actualized thoughts. For all the times these powerful words and memories have been whispered between my ears, I give them back to the endless void, echoing on into the silence: thank you.

Sundown Cold

The night that creeps in is wet and chilled. The weight of it is like resin or gooey snot seeping, sludging and glopping in. The smells of the coming winter.

Do you ever feel not alone in bed at night even though you are? When the cold comes in, and it surrounds, do you feel the echo? I do. I remember, and sometimes that’s a nail in my chest, and other times it still warms me. Perception can be momentary, circumstantial.

Now, there is only a space for understanding. A process where comprehension takes a back seat and settles for not knowing where the car is going. Think too hard and the tunnel develops a slope downward. For me, I often find myself contextualizing and interpreting: wrongly, optimistically, starkly…

Logic’s devices are stunted with emotion’s geyser-like eruptions. That’s the place where the echo comes from, I feel. The indelible imprint of a soul touched, the intoxication, idiosyncrasies, passions that once flared but are long silent, and have been. Something that I have know is there, and will clearly linger for the rest of my life. What to do with all the images? Cherish, I say.

We have so little time to be alive. Only a blip. A tiny fragment of a fragment. I’ve been guilty of abusing that gift… squandering it; laying waste to it on occasion. The fact that I still have it despite myself is a thing that can’t be ignored.

But here, now… this fragile place where the remembrance is strong… she remains with me. In some delusion where peace had pervaded, the outcome was different… the story continued, but changed to survive. Again and again we see that those who are suited to adapt, endure the cycles of changing chance and circumstance. Such is the case in our lives, however brief they are.

Why? I won’t deny I missed her. She was right there with me again. It hurt to wake up. I was bleeding. I won’t forget. I dreamed for a reason; and will never deny that.

Sometimes the best thing to do is dream, for it is there where I will see her again, in a place where no new harm can be incurred.

A Dream…

It was a house I lived in now, but not one I had ever seen before. There were many well-lit rooms, hallways and balconies that opened up wide. There was flashy yellow trim, and the blue in the sky was vibrant above.

Yet, somewhere within the house, there was a door that went down. It was a door I opened and looked into freely. A solitary ladder stretched on into encompassing darkness of the featureless shaft, to some unseen place.

I began to descend. Down came with markers, years, I knew, ticking by the deeper I went. I knew it was a measure of time, but I couldn’t read the numbers. It wasn’t cold, despite how far it went on into the abyss below.

At the bottom, there was a dimly lit chamber. There was no visible floor, only endless shards of something small, shiny and black strewn or piled from wall to wall.

You were there J. You held the shards up in your palm so I could look at them, and then I realized what they were. They were once letters; literally large, black three dimensional letters that one might expect to find at an old timey gas station or cinema. The letters were broken into unrecognizable pieces. As I looked around, there were thousands of them, knee-deep in all directions. Your black hair glinted in the pale light filling the room and I remembered.

You wanted me to follow you, and we started walking through the catacombs, but it felt more like I was chasing you. Between the archways and pillars, you slipped away from my view. I knew I couldn’t stay, because I had to go back.

Then, it was gone.

35th Anniversary Portrait Album

Clearly this sort of activity truly excludes me from my peer group as most people my age hate all the crap I listen to. This is a good filter though, as this portrait is a fairly good rendering of myself in music. Though, the aspects I chose to depict, and how I chose to express them, is a matter of some debate. Nonetheless, the album is here and it is full of contrasts and apt comparisons. I highly recommend giving it a listen if you are old and h really have nothing better you could be dong. I find this type of thing puts me back in touch with my traits and memories of varying emotional gravity. I highly recommend toiling in this way. The act of pairing oneself to aspects of music seems inherently like it’s at least exploration and quite possibly transformative.

 

  1. Impression AWhat A Fool Believes – Michael McDonald
  2. Impression BPork Parts – Ensemble Studios
  3. CharismaticThe Power Of Love – Huey Lewis and the News
  4. Mentally Ill(Sic) – Slipknot
  5. NaïvetéYou’re The Inspiration – Chicago
  6. CarnalWild Sex (In The Working Class) – Oingo Boingo
  7. IntrospectiveMan In The Mirror – Michael Jackson
  8. “Old Soul”Tomorrow – Joe Walsh
  9. ImmolativeRegular People (Conceit) – Pantera
  10. DetachedHey Nineteen – Steely Dan 
  11. CuriousOn The Road To Find Out – Cat Stevens
  12. AdaptiveI’m Still Standing – Elton John
  13. Original Still Alive – GLaDOS & johnathan Coulton
  14. RegretfulThe Other Guy – Little River Band
  15. HopefulThe Voice – The Moody Blues
  16. ResilientWaves – Blondfire
  17. Obscure Flavor Cats (In The Comfort Zone) – Ensamble Studios
  18. Unsatisfied – No One Like You – Scorpions

Goldendome

The sponge is currently on administrative leave until tomorrow morning. We have record of his sponginess being excellent during the time in which it was best to be sponge. Now, however, is no sponge required.

Meeting new people is always a sparky flashy bing bang. I did very well with all of that poof today, in the rapture of hours long NAMI table outreach. My gospel of happily re-uptake inhibited existence was heard by many, quite beyond expectation even, with other underachieving adjectives such as “lots” and “much.” I was impressed by the event turnout, yanked like a wanker from one enjoyable chat to the next, but finally, casually ecstatic to have so many neat interactions. Working with great people, seeing a well intended mission going forward with the friends, while there was revelry, showmanship, vocabulary discussions, handouts… a very event packed day where my cheese-like head is overwhelmed. I am grateful for the sip of rejuvenating fairy jizz which has recharged my total self.

I’m still pretty sure I know what I need to do with my life. Occasionally the congress of doubt throws some shade, but not enough to do much of anything anymore. Facts. Proof. Reality. Boom.

If the truth is realized and accepted within the core of self, the armor will not be breached by pointy outside things. Despite the cruel filibuster of Dubiety McDoubterson, the legislature slogs on. Conduct is where action done in the “now,” being vaulted on the road of bricks built of “then.” The world is not going to pander to my absurdly out-of-touch filter, so why be outraged when life sticks a hot poker up your ass?

I was thinking about all the ways my life is quite special, and how fucking that up is not an option at this point. So much real work I did has become a platform for a successful future (hopefully, unless my eyes are eaten by bees, or my dad turns into a gelatinous amoeba of unusual size[pish, like he isn’t already?], consuming all organic matter nearby).

More devilry to come, I’m sure.

Upgurdge

Some stimuli has led to a jolt within, where new factors were given a rise of prominence. Still the backdrop of self-inflicted undesirability remains as repugnance is accepted. I’m summarizing grossly.

My hypothesis on status remains the same, since my pie slice is already big enough. I do like pie though. Pie. Tasty pie. Flavors.

An exploratory thought under the oncoming tsunami of gurdge. I’m so overflowing with sludge that it gets everywhere, and smells bad. Can the sludge ever be contained?! On our next episode we’ll find out.

To grunk or not to grunk?

Nothing of supple invitation ever seems to become a happy or a friend.

Blind

Smeared streak across glass–

Prune-like pulp chunk,

Blasted splat to barrier.

Vacantly gulping–

Eyeball-seeking,

The other side.

Embossed in “la la” afterglow,

A faded twirly skirt no one wears,

In a vacant room–

11th floor–

A light was left on.

Spatula’d off the surface–

Plorped into a dustbin,

Mingling with the glops–

Deposits within firmament.

Zeep

End of old soggy sock smell and start of soft friend in a fuzzed-out place. The moving air and sheet jitters bring a fluttering-wing calmness. Everything weighed to down, and the time of joining is near. So many faces to see and places to sniff.

I don’t complain in my blessings. There is no deterioration if it isn’t wanted. Destruction is not aided in these lands. It is a downward fate to lead with criticism. I also find it meaningless to poof over things not with their weight in frets.

Have rest, when ready. The battery is low, but not for long. The peace of restarting. Shut down. Restart. Present.

The Arc

We all search for meaning as we define its parameters through lived experience. No one else gets to pass idle judgement on that, because it’s strength is the core of the fully expressed self. Many times I have fought to change what cannot be changed, and tasted the grungy floor of down. I see a better way now through adaptation to changing expectation and the fertile joy of life itself.

I am not ungrateful for being chosen to live, but instead, indebted to the arc of humanity, upon which a beautiful future is projected. You, simply put, are a miracle whether you know it or not. There will only ever be one “you” in this world, and the reality as you see it can be something joyous and precious because it is totally unique and infinitely valuable. You, the out there person who is alive, deserve to be heard, contribute and exist. Speak your mind; we all only get one chance.

There is something “otherly” about internal dignity. The body responds, the mind settles and true pride itself radiates outward, like polished armor in the fray against the idle hypocrisy and rampant vitriol of the surroundings. Reasonable expectations keep horizons bright, if not very far away. I feel that existential obligation to have lived a life built on success, and failure as well; to have tasted sweetest love, and foulest resentment, anger, sadness, betrayal and pain. Meaning comes from experience, as the contrast helps us understand the spectrum of feeling.

My echo through the ether will say this man made many mistakes, but he has made this world somewhat better in form or feeling as well. His life was lived, and not squandered. It is an attitude that builds foundations that last, great iron-wrought struts and supporting joists. It is a structure that cannot be blown over, and to tear it down it must be disassembled, piece by piece, in a process that has no beneficial or rational potential and a low probability of occurrence.

Here me encouraging you to find what gives meaning to your life. Whatever it is. It doesn’t matter one bit, as long as you live true to real happiness from within, the things that grow from the core of self-contained wellness are wonderfully tasty fruits, where most other plants starve in dry places of anger, leaving only emaciated husks and ash-dry dust.

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

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.

Blurb

Tonight’s town hall had some ridiculously good moments:

-Was the only representative of NAMI there until after the event start time, and DOMINATED the organizing and preparation.

-Was called a “fine looking man” and was described as “very cool” by separate FEMALE individuals.

-Endeared myself further with my ED and accompanying staff, and will inherit the full responsibilities of my new title: Peer Connections Program Manager.

-Was thanked dozens of times by all sorts of people for my assistance, and was smiled at more times than memory can accurately retain.

-Provided solutions and tech insight for future meetings with free tech stuff given and access to a working projection system.

Basically, this was another exhibition of my invaluable self to NAMI, on a night when it was desperately needed. They would have been lost if not for me: fact.

I’m doing a good job of being introspective lately. I’m aware that depression is there, and creeping in. It invades like a tiny, little leak, reducing quantity at an undetectably slow rate. Tonight though, I felt like I gave that depression a kick in the teeth, or patched the leak with gum… or something. I was struggling, but I kept pushing forward, lifting, checking, helping, pacing… I was in motion, but, satisfyingly, thoroughly exhausted. It feels good to be deservedly tired; an ache I can reflect on and be proud of.

In the past couple years, I’ve endured doubters, neglecters, forgetters and haters. I offer no argument, for there is no debate to be had when it comes to judging the merits or flaws of my identity. This person right here is who I am: subsequently, it’s who I will continue to be for now. I would like to note that I am constantly improving to find a better way forward, but sometimes I slide down the hill into the poop-trough. My engine runs on work, commitment and respect, and makes lots of foul boy-smells come out. The fires that feed externally derived hatred from others originate from irrelevant, dry and lifeless roots of a long dead tree, reduced to little more than a pitted and rotten stump.

I’m satisfied with my integrity at this point, after years of positive reinforcement. The future is a big green arrow pointed up. Evidence being impossible to ignore while staying honest, I’m quite elated at the current direction I’m going.

Goodnight.

FF Thoughts: Balanced Scoring Theory

It has been my experience in designing fantasy scoring systems for the NFL that the weight of every statistical category must be appraised in respect to the total items being scored, roster positions available and some form of biased incentive.

It can be said, as a baseline, common events should not be comparable in worth to rare events. It is this weighting that defines the terms of competition, and an aspect I particularly relish. I have beliefs about what aspects of a given sport are more difficult to achieve versus things that should occur and do occur regularly/often. What I cultivate in participants is a similar respect for the remarkable and an interpretive invitation to strategize.

As I develop my thoughts on how to apply my prior FNFL experience to the FMLB format, I intend to be true to my signature preferences and unique interpretation of the sport (s). MLB tends to be more statistically dependent (developed) and maybe even drowning in an excess of interpretations and comparisons. I hope to cut through the bullshit and boil my league rules down to the essential, and the remarkable. The mundane have been exiled!

Scoring: Two Factors

Weighted Scoring Categories

I use a combination of elements to determine what value to assign things: (commonality/frequency + subjective difficulty + game-flow based significance = relative weighted value). Through this, you should begin to see my perturbed view of the sport, and what makes it interesting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some of my preferences become apparent with how harshly things are penalized, or how they are rewarded. Based on an ideal set of player’s 2018 All-Star Break statistics (relative mid-marker), the draft will see offensive players going first, but relief pitchers among the second wave. See below for the impact on how the team should be built in terms of available point scoring potential.

Difficult plays and stats that are hard to earn are weighted, but more heavily towards the remarkable. Outfield Assists for example, as I have stated in previous posts, are pretty fucking awesome. Clearly there are more points to be scored as an offensive player, but that seems to follow logic in terms of actual gameplay. Still, I see that, if there was to be a draft, I could see multiple strategies towards some desired stat-cultivation effort to specifically target a course towards relevance, and the postseason. Plays that cause outs, or kill rallies, or erase runs are dealt with harshly.

 

 

Roster Positions – Team Size

Depending on what is being scored/weighted, the roster needs to reflect a discipline to balance, and an incentive for a diverse live draft by fairly distributing point-earning opportunities across positions. As you can probably tell from the scoring table listed above, there are some positions on the lineup card that are going to be, generally, better contributors than others. The roster below is ordered in terms of fantasy point scoring weight/ideal projected point output potential (Great, High, Average, Low-ish

1B
2B
SS
3B
OF1
OF2
OF3
OF4
RP1
RP2
RP3
SP1
SP2
SP3
SP4
SP5
C1
C2
______
(18)

There would be 7 bench slots, rounding out the active roster at 25. There’s a certain nostalgic symbolism I wish to also encapsulate, (see the 5 man rotation, the 7th, setup and closer slots). I feel like there are 4 starting outfielders on every Major League team as a baseline based on logic, and the nature of the positions. I did not feel it necessary to be specific about the outfield positions as this level of specificity doesn’t add to the fun and makes drafting arduous because of the constraining requirements of the roster slot. In my build, OF gets to be more useful, potentially, based on a freedom to load RF or CF or whatever your preference.

C has become like FNFL TE to me now. Hit or miss, boom or bust, this roster slot looks like the one that will inevitably fuck me somehow. C rates low, even with All-Stars driving the stats, but they seem like to do so in bursts rather than consistently. Plus, this is another roster position that is most-likely to have a savvy backup on real MLB rosters.

I foresee infielders (with the exception of C1/2) being hard to find after some trends have been established. I have often wondered about free-agency and waiver pickups in FMLB. Maybe this will be something I learn about later, or maybe not at all. 

Well, I think this league would be fun, but this will never happen, more than likely. Good things to think about though, and that’s really all I’m trying to do. I just want something to feel good about, and excited I guess. Things have been really hard lately, and my energy is running dangerously low. I’m going to need help soon, and this little exercise has been one of my coping activities to help myself think about something positive and fun while also innocuous. Thank you.

Yukon Ho!

I always admired Calvin for his cleverness (although usually devious) and his imagination. Right now, I wish I had the same fire he has for venturing into new worlds. Frankly, imagination is a drug of escape in its own right, and has to be desired to be fulfilling. This might explain why I have been non-existent in my creative writing ventures, or gaming, or any of the peripheral fuzzy things I used to do. Real life has been fully front and center in the months since the move, and I guess it seems there is no battery for that.

Love. A strong bond as well as an aspiration for living. Over time, I have seen why it is better to invest in positive feelings, thoughts and ideas rather than negative ones. I have done better as a human being by accepting my failures and flaws, but still insisting on going forward/up. What choice is there? There is no joy to be had in suffering, darkness, and relived pain. Agony builds no bridges or houses. I was this once. I lived it. I saw where it eventually leads. I did not want that.

Life is like .0000000001 seconds long in terms of everything going on around us. Living with that knowledge doesn’t inspire any reckless or self-indulgent behavior, but instead does two things: first, it adds a level of delicate preciousness to life in its fragile, brief and fleeting existence, and second, it inspires (in me) a desire to make the most of the short time that I am given. My personal solution has been to live for others, and follow a career that satisfies the heart, and ensures stability for the future. There is a higher state of being, and it is called acceptance.

So, Blog, with that in mind, you can see why my path forward is looking so well lit as well as prosperous for the soul. I scrutinize myself from time to time with a god-like perspective, trying to liberate my thoughts from my head, it would seem. However confusing, this is working, and could be implemented as I have stated many times over.

 

The Arc Of Fate, Directed

Why are we having this debate in our country right now? Has Capitalism really become so inflated and corpse-like that it can no longer sustain? I think we have a flawed design for our society, and now that it is being exploited, we see how broken it really is. This is just the leading edge of a knife that is beginning to sink into the flesh, though, not unnoticed.

We had a good idea in making the United States a true Democratic society, with a founding document that would adapt to change, and adjust as the definition of society changed. Now, though, because of how  thoroughly and completely we realized the intent of that document (rules), we have found ways to contort it into something more like a monarchy, or oligarchy of sorts.

Something that should alarm you is that the minority’s ideological power controls all branches of our government, and are successfully establishing a way to prolong that control and promote the tenants of its beliefs. It is not just that, but also the fact that a solidification of power will result in a new societal standard which is far less developed and limited in potential when compared to the current trajectory.

It comes down to something pretty simple: control. However, control has no endgame. Right now, the individuals who have their hands on the reigns of power, governmental and private, are doing what they can to make sure they stay in power. Seems logical, but not democratic. Our course is not set to the benefit of only some, because we are founded on the principles that our government, citizens and all those who come here should be proud of being or becoming American. To me, the founders designed our democracy with the intent of purging the potential for abuse in a monarchical context (with the exception of the pardon power). Pride, for me at least, does not lead me in a new desire to exploit the thing I am most proud of in order to better myself and reward those that promoted me to this platform of authority.

To contort the mechanism of election to retain control seems not very American. To strategically draw electoral district boundaries to decrease the value of some people’s vote and inflating others also seems pretty unacceptable. Slashing taxes, de-funding the federal government, gutting departments of staff/effectiveness, AND handing most of the money back to the richest, most powerful individuals and entities in our capitalist society? Why is that the thing that we are doing?

The minutia of cost-based services has become staggering, and the primary benefactors are companies, businesses, corporations that control this thing that we need or want. Even if you cut away all the fluff and said you’d only ever buy what you need, it still costs something. No one rides for free in this America. Broken toe? Hungry? Tired of being rained on while you sleep? America doesn’t want to care unless you are grinding your face off for it, and doesn’t care if you live or die while in service. Right now, those who work the hardest, break their backs and spill their blood for America are some of the poorest paid, most abandoned, forgotten people in the entire country. The human beings responsible for making sure this country keeps going forward are losing faith that anyone actually gives a flying fuck about them. Look at the way we treat our veterans: they make up a large contingent of homeless nationwide, die in veteran’s hospitals and have an alarmingly high suicide rate. These people were given a job to do, and they did it, and now their life is over.

Why do so few make so much? They were far better at understanding, adapting and exploiting the game our society plays, in which the rules allow for the most predatory, arrogant and ruthless individuals to rise to the top. These individuals have a thirst for the rewards of this permutation of society: power, land, notoriety/fame, control. Just like any fucking thing that has rules, like the Constitution, or Capitalism, once you know what the parameters are, you can find a way to exploit in to some ulterior purpose. Hackers are just this generation’s example of such a mentality driven into a niche where it is quite successful, but you can then consider the current Alt Conservative movement to be hackers of the Constitution.

Most of us just want to have a good life, full of people we love and smiling faces. We don’t need to have fortunes, power, and control. and frankly, there is strong evidence that when one of us is given such things, we are more often ruined by them. What are these things ultimately if not the transitory, sinfully gained self-declared rewards, which are ultimately spoils from the labor of many millions, all over the world? Can their hear our backs breaking as they stand atop the pile? To me, the monarchical way of thinking leads to nothing good. Tyrants are inevitably overturned, and their names disgraced through time. The oppressed never stay that way forever. The arc of humanity bends towards acceptance, because the true source of power is a people united behind belief.

I do believe that there are millions and maybe billions of disadvantaged human beings who are tired of seeing the dreams they have go beyond the limitations of what their life can allow. We cannot succeed apart, and can only realize who we are when we all come together, with conviction, and stand up for our country. We used to believe that America was a place where anyone could be anything, and in a way, that can’t ever be fully true. However, the intent behind those words was hope. For the people that grow up here, or come here from far away, they all should have that spark of hope that they can be something that they dream about being all their lives, no matter where they are from. People driven by a passion, or a calling are among the most inspiring of us all, and they know what it is to love a thing; a principle that should do more of the deciding of our direction than it currently does. We really do want everyone to come here believing that, even the asylum seeker at the Mexican border or the New York City orphan. As it stands now, that dream is nearly gone for most people here already, and currently under siege by anyone who is trying to come here.

People fret over what’s happening in the news right now. This is all so transitory. This campaign of riding a wave of racism and outrage to prolonged power is stupid and short-sighted, to put it mildly. Ideas in America are changing rapidly, with each new generation that grows up, and every immigrant who comes here to live. Hate doesn’t build anything, it can only divide us up into seething quadrants where we are easily controlled and not at all useful. In order to step forward, and redefine what America is, we all must stand together, and become a majority.

Even if decades or arcane and inhumane beliefs pervade, there is no escaping the truth that we will prevail in our ability to unite. We are all people in this country together, and this is our home. One day, I believe we will find out this truth and come to understand what one humanity looks like. Our diversity is the thing that defines us, because just as we are complex of thought, we are differential in our heritage, history, traditions, beliefs and dreams. The advantages of knowing will advance us farther than we ever knew we could go, and in that future, the fire of hatred will be long snuffed out. With all the unique perspective we bring, the community of humanity will be the real thin America will be remembered for.

While

Dusted with purpose,

Scars and tattered clothes,

Smudged stain streaks,

Eyes, charged.

Dedicated to forward,

Chalk-dry grip,

Push off up or out,

Vital fury burns,

Sheds to incinerate.

Cleansing water,

Circling the departure,

New banner unmuted,

Wrought of scars–

Clear in color.

RELEVANCE! ACHIEVED!!!!

Blog, I’m fucking in. The inner sanctum. Me. In! My feet are standing upon sacred ground.

Established, trusted, proven, vigorous, persistent, pressing, VICTORIOUS!

I can’t explain now, but know the status is unprecedented and the future limitless. I am the disciple of fortune! I am the warrior of cause!

The possibilities are limitless!

Yes!

The confirmation has come, and the future is being built like a bastion of protection, and inevitable success/relevance.

I’m in Blog… and it’s the dream I’ve hoped for for so long. To have a life that gives, redeems, replenishes. It is all right here for me, ready.

This is the day, in which it begins.

Solstace

Good morning Blog,

Today is the longest “day” of the year, as evidenced by last night’s soft twilight glow at 9:15 pm. With the extra happy up time, I plan to accumulate steps along the walking path and smell the evaporating befouled trench-water.

The new environment I have found myself in has been nourishing in a very literal sense. Part of that, is because I have realized my potential as a steward of my locally perceived environment. This is a tangential topic form the fundamental model for effective stability that I have adopted along my journey. The reason I know that it has it’s foundations in a place of surpassing integrity is because the process drives an accumulation of positive proofs that forge a self based on real, acquired pride.

The origin of this emotional uplift is derived in fact, which can be proven, being real, indisputable, and has hard as solid metal. In this odd metaphor, that process provides something hard, nay, precievably immobile to stand on and achieve balance; no longer tumbling through the air or otherwise prone.

I can only speak to personal experience in this regard, but that is basically the best place to be speaking from anyway. I have still been down and up at times, especially over the last two years, but that process was not hidden from me as it may have been in the past. I had eyes for trouble, but most of all, I had intense documentation between Psychologist, Psychiatrists and my own personal introspection right here on this Blog. I did not let my psychotic break last year destroy me, well, not entirely anyway. I continued to adapt, and grow, and become something harder and more determined than before. I find that with failure comes an additional surge of motivation, if not purely based on my own self-imposed frustration with having fucked something up in the first place. A little spark in the face is all it takes to get me off the floor and moving forward again with several very forceful steps. I don’t let failure frustrate me in a way that stops progress indefinitely, or teaches some lesson that is flawed, biased or destructive. Interpretation is (should be) the best part of consciousness, especially when it is actually objective and willing to be unabashedly self-critical for the sake of improvement not immolation.

I think the byproduct of all this is that I have an effective model for maintaining stability and living with mental illness, which is something I can use, going forward, in my peer support model. I am even being given a chance to do a full day of private peer support for NAMI at an homeless outreach event at the end of the month. My influence has sparked a curiosity about peer support in NAMI that seemed to be not present until I started waving my pom-poms around and clicking my heels. Pride. It infects the people around, in that local environment I was talking about earlier. There is an appeal based on positive radiation, which is not something perceived with the senses but “felt” in a resonant, comfortable way when presented with proximity. The source of that energy, being real, is coming from a place validated by years of positive steps. I have a charisma that inspires, attracts and spreads freely by enthusiastic reference.

That’s the proof of integrity I have been asking myself for over the last week. Who am I? What am I capable of? What am I going to do with my life?

Each day that I get up and head out into the world, I do so proudly, confidently and with radiance. I find that a shining persona can come in more than just with pride and integrity, but also with hate or delusion. There are plenty of people in the world who are satisfied with an “answer” that makes sense for them, and any reinforcement of that is welcome while outside challenges are ignored and disregarded. Look no further than American society for your delusion of hate in the form of prejudice and racism. We have a polarizing world, truly, between the inert and the curious (if not along 1 trillion other lines of contention).

That societal dynamic is a source of consternation toward my progress, but ultimately, not sustainable. Like all actions driven by negative forces, the outrage isolates, castigates and eventually exiles as the scalpel of progress removes the rotten flesh of it’s enduring essence. Concepts like racism are doomed in time, maybe beyond my life. The energy derived decays, rots and erodes. No progress towards stability, happiness and fulfillment is driven by hate.

Well, that was a kinda frustrating way to conclude. No, wait, maybe this is also indicative of my hopefulness. Maybe I’m not pessimistic enough? I prefer to be pointed up than always thinking about the downward result. I really do think that as humans, we will figure this out as the decades go by. It’s just too fucking inefficient to be hating each other all the time. We get more done when we work, not when we yell.

Advancement

Score: +3.5

The last few days, I have been helping the NAMIWalks team put together “thank you” packets for organizations that donated during the walk. I had a chance to put on my graphic design hat and came up with collages composed of pictures from the event and recognition achieved through their contribution. This very morning, I was working with the two most impactful NAMIWalks individuals in Northern California, and I got treated like a respected, admired equal. Today, my significance solidified.

My work continues tonight as NAMI is hosting a community meeting for LGBTQ individuals. I’m here early to set up the table and talk to people that come in. I know last time I was at something like this, I got to meet some interesting new people and reconnect with recently acquired friends. My social circle is growing, and in it are people who make a substantive difference in their communities. These activists, leaders and peers all work together to advance awareness and stop stigma. These are the faces of change, and I am proud to model myself around them as I develop into a mental health professional.

Things are accelerating, money is starting to trickle in (I got a gift card for helping out!). I’m more concerned with staying relevant and involved. I’m here volunteering every day of the week because I want to. This is my path, and here is where I will find true fulfillment.

I’ll have a post for you tomorrow Blog. Oh, and I got a job interview with a company that holds peer-led groups at psychiatric clinics. They are jazzed about my peer support background AND familiarity with several natural sciences. Should it be great to hold a group on clouds, or the solar system? Sweet flaming monkey-pants that sounds great!

As with all things, more to come soon.

Spark Assessment

What is clear:

Even the slightest, tiniest, misconstrued sense of being engaged or cared about has a PROFOUND effect on output. I am more active, effusive, creative and alive when even the deception of concern is present enough to cast the illusion of reality. This should draw a flag as well for the nature of the spike.

Erratic and concerning to some degree, and undeniably significant in influence. Also potentially, quite useful if channeled effectively (or if engaged more slowly). It’s the type of bloom that would promote me more vibrantly into the world, if only I knew how to conjure the feeling within myself.

I know I’m going to be okay regardless of sunshine and good soil. To think of a time where that could be “better” seems impossible. Is this a drop of water hitting the sand and being greedily devoured into mud?

Walk Of Attonement

There is something fundamentally rewarding about survival through adaptation I have found. It’s a sense of worth, because many obstacles and trials were not enough to destroy the foundation and raze all that was built prior. Ruin should not be the mechanism of redemption because we do not reside in a world of unquestioned absolutes and flaming rubble. Instead, progress is quantitative; a multitude of accomplishments (theoretically) having been laid down instead, sloping upward towards a measured goal among many. This is not always easy to see, but truly can’t be destroyed without full and unquestioning self-participatory assistance.

There should be a caveat, because it’s not as simple as one small but purposeful paragraph (needless to say) to enact life-altering change. Pain is the key to recognition. Sounds unpleasant, largely, because it is (and should be). This may not be true of everyone, but hurt, regret, sorrow and suffering are an essential part of our human understanding of reality. Though we typically don’t live life at the extremes of emotional polarity, they exist as reference for when things start to stray from center. The drift of the perceived norm is the real piece to highlight, because there comes the setup for a moment when a threshold for tolerance is reached and crossed. At some interval which is different for everyone, a realization of position of the emotional pendulum is recognized. It is in this quandary of action that things become critical.

All humans are fundamentally different in countless ways, one of them being the cognitive tolerance for despair. Commonly thought of as an undesirable state, the supplicant of sorrow has a point in which the intensity and relentlessness of the state is unbearable, and in such stark contrast to the opposite end of the spectrum of feeling that dramatic action seems more tangible and needed. At this pivotal juncture, a choice can be made to continue in the current condition, or change somehow.

Again, not just as simple as a choice you make in your head and then boom, done. This revelation often comes at cost, and not always a productive result. For many (myself included) the first avenue consist largely of escape by one means or another (drugs, games, delusions, cognitive distortions), then suicide when there is no where else to go. In my own circumstance, I found that mental and physical isolation led to the trouble, a fundamental lack of constructive dialogue, as well as issues with being misunderstood and under-engaged. Plus, there are almost certainly lots of other contributors which vary per individual circumstance.

Given that death isn’t a solution to anything, and having failed at it personally, the lesson learned helps to dictate what information can be learned to push the load further uphill. Now, this moment of having been defeated in the attempt of self destruction or mutilation should serve as a marked transition point in which a new direction needs to be calculated. Or, should be. But why?

This is the most difficult part of the argument, because it relies on a person’s ability to compare alternating states of awareness in a crisis. I have never been very good at this, but the last time I hit rock bottom, it clicked. I could either stay this way, miserable, coasting just above the desire to exit existence entirely, or, to remember that feeling proud, or even positive, would be like fresh water to parched desert lips. The metaphor helps the imagination, which was a doorway, for me, towards realization and then action.

I, ultimately, wanted to feel good. I’d rather have many more days of trying for and achieving happiness than to check out of the world. The thread that kept me stitched together was hope. In and of itself, hope is too ambiguous to be useful. However, when tied to the looming mystery of the future, the window of possibility opens.

We don’t know, with any true certainty, what tomorrow will bring (unless you happen to be Madam Cleo). The fascination and promise is just as balanced between negative and positive as one would expect for normalcy in most cases. I personally hang on to that thread because I know that if I tug on it, I can take advance in a new direction. It is a hope that I am not eternally defined by the shortcomings and atrocities of my past, but rather, incentivized by fortune to make something better of the legacy thus far wrought. The ammunition to fend off advancing doubt is pride, and the individual actions that increase the evidence for having that radiant, internal confidence.

That may not appeal to someone grounded in surrender, but even the most well-established doubter can see the potential benefit of comparative reality assessments. See a future not yet realized, and head down the road towards it, I would say. It seems like a pretty fundamental adjustment to make if success is sought. I don’t pretend to be any more of an expert than my lived experience allows as I write this. I have seen, and will see, the very struggle I detail here if not within myself regularly, but in the world around me. I hope you can also see that this evidentiary argument has a real grounding in logic and constructive incrementalism. One step forward, two back, two forward, one back… and so on.

Join us. We are going into the future with the pendulum back where it belongs.

Astronomy Topic: Planet 9?

Planet 9: A Theory

Howdy again Blog.

Today we are going to be discussing a theory that explains the unusual orbits of a dozen or so Kuiper Belt Objects (also called Trans-Neptunian Objects).

When I was growing up, there WERE 9 planets, the 9th being Pluto (at that point, it was a smudge). In my lifetime, however, the advancement of telescopes has allowed for many other objects in Pluto’s neighborhood to be discovered (including one larger then Pluto). Astronomers would then come to classify Pluto as a Dwarf Planet, and a part of the Kuiper Belt (a large area filled with icy bodies in distant orbits towards the outskirts of the solar system).

This all seemed well and good for a decade or more, until a whole bunch of KBOs had been identified, and their individual orbits started to be mapped and computed. Advanced software would then make lengthy computations to model the orbits of the objects in the solar system in an effort to study their development and interactivity. That practice of modeling, in and of itself, has been going on for a long time, but the greater the number of actual objects observed, the more “accurate” the simulation becomes.

Albeit, given we don’t understand every little thing about gravity, and interactivity… but we DO get quite a bit of it. We now make space probe flight patterns that exploit the gravity of nearby planets to increase acceleration at a fuel-expense minimum (gravity-assist). It can be said we understand the mechanics of that sort of gravity interactivity fairly well, which leads us to the next point of this progression.

With that in mind, the Astronomers who observed the Kuiper Belt Objects found a few of them that had atypical orbits in contrast to the vast majority of the others. Their orbits all had some common elements though, they were elongated in a similar direction, and had corresponding axial tilts which had clearly been subject to significant gravitational forces at some point. Computers are pretty fucking handy it turns out, and after punching all these orbits into the simulation they asked the computer what could have caused these objects to have the orbits they do.

Initially, I was personally of a mind that it could have been possible that a rogue star had passed through the area nearby our solar system, and the gravity disturbance caused the orbits to be the way they are… but that was also disproven quickly because of the fact that there is no star nearby enough to be a culprit for such a crime. Also, the timeline was wrong, as the orbits of the KBOs had not been perturbed all at once. The passing star theory dies there, as it could not explain several additional observed orbital features, and the axial tilt of these TNOs.

The computer chewed on the data, but gave the Scientists an answer they were not at all expecting. The computation showed a high probability of something large lurking in the deep dark of the outer solar system. This unknown object’s gravity was tugging Kuiper Belt Objects out of their natural orbits. In addition to the projection of a whole new planet, the model also explained a few more unusual KBOs that the Scientists had no previous explanation for.

When the complete data set for all known objects in the Kuiper Belt was combined with the existing model, there were 3 objects that fell into the perpendicular orbits predicted by the simulation. The computer had known these objects were there and why before the scientists did. The data pointed, convincingly, to a big planet somewhere out there. But where?

The software projected that Planet 9 would have an orbit with a perihelion of 200 Astronomical Units and an aphelion of 1,200 AU. Those distances are truly insane, considering our farthest planet, Neptune, is 30 AU away at its longest point (aphelion). Oh, 1 AU is a little over 9 million miles.

Right now, a sky survey done from a space telescope a few years ago did not reveal planet 9 anywhere nearby, which might mean that it’s nearing the distant end of its orbital path (considering it takes a projected 20,000 years to complete 1 orbit of the sun). If it is out there, it is going to be difficult to spot. Another question asked by the scientists was: how big was this thing? Alarmingly, they found the object was AT LEAST 10 times the mass of our planet Earth. So, big. There is a type of planet that scientists have observed in extraterrestrial solar systems, called Super Earths, which are extraordinarily large rocky planets of equivalent mass to the suspected Planet 9.

Theorizing about what sort of planet it might be has, in and of itself, a distinct fork in the logic for existence and formation.

Formation Theory 0: Natural Orbit

The first though was: oh well it must have just formed out there, and we’ll update our models to compensate for that. However, this neglected the severe tilt to the solar plain, as well as the fact that there is not enough material in the outer reaches of the solar system to form a 10 Earth mass planet. This logic train stopped right here, and was abandoned.

Formation Theory 1: Rogue Planet

Since the object has such a severely elliptical orbit, and a 30 degree tilt to the plane of the solar system, there is a possibility the world we now call Planet 9 was a rogue planet. It may have been thrown free of its original parent star eons ago, and was just fortunate enough to pass close enough to the sun to be captured in its current bizarre orbit. There are models that grapple with this possibility, but nothing conclusive.

Formation Theory 2: Flung Giant

If our current model for the size of the accretion disk and the overall substance of the gas cloud that our star formed in is wrong, then maybe there are some processes at work that we do not understand. In extrasolar planetary systems, sometimes large Gas Giants are very close to their stars, in a likely consumption of the inner planets as gravity drew it closer and close as the millennia went by. Possibly?

Now we think about our own solar neighborhood… was its past more violent than we have previously theorized? Astronomers continue to work models that show Planet 9 may have developed as a Gas Giant, and been flung out of the solar system but still captured by the fringes of the sun’s influence. While the variables remain largely unknown, the Gas Giant theory lines up with where something of that mass would have needed to have formed.

Is Planet 9 a mysterious Super Earth caught by the sun’s influence from the emptiness of interstellar space, or a once proud Gas Giant, cast out by gravitational disturbances in the solar system’s formation, exiled to the icy reaches?

Conclusion: The Search

With all the observed evidence and modeling, there is a sense of certainty that Planet 9 is out there, waiting to be found. Now, a “gold rush” of sorts is taking place to scan the furthest reaches of the mysterious planet’s possible orbital path, to try to render the object in photograph and finally verify its existence. Dozens of astronomers are engaged in the search, but the area they need to cover is immense, and the magnitude of Planet 9 is quite dim given how far away it is thought to be.

Now, our society is on the cusp of re-defining how we understand our solar system, and paint a picture of where we might be headed. Albeit, geologic and astronomic time are quite different from human perception, the machinery of the universe runs on math, and it is always calculating the next interaction. There is so much we have yet to fully comprehend, even in the most basic of levels. Our understanding is based on the delicate architecture of guessing, and Planet 9 brings a lot of our theories into collision with reality. Will the planet projected by a computer really be there? Time is the fact that will determine what is out there, if not a planet, than something else very large…

Image credits: Wikipedia

Shaboopie!

Score: +3

Hi again Bloggyfriend.

I have been erratic mood-wise lately, but not inactive. I did very good to keep taking my medications and exercising, which helps maintain an energy baseline. This is preventative, in case short-term lulls become something more pronounced.

Today helped buoy me farther ahead in my goals for mental health community awareness, as well as providing meaningful assistance to NAMI. I met with a member of the board of directors and we started covering ways I could provide research for a grant we want to apply for as well as the document sections for the application. The one we are looking at is for 100,000 dollars and divided into 10 sub-groups county wide. In my capacity, I’ll be researching program statistics and compiling text for the grant submittal. I have rarely been more impactful in all my life, but I am still the supplicant learning and absorbing knowledge from all the amazing individuals I have met so far.

This also gets me thinking about my self-worth as I head down the road. I feel significant, but not appealing in any fundamental way. There are still holes in my armor that I work to mend, and the fiery crucible of time should assist in that process. In spite of that, I have that fundamental absence that I still struggle to comprehend. Maybe this outer-person will achieve a great deal in the world, but he would be unknown, unresolved and unwanted in a very personal way. There seems to be no escaping that, and I don’t much like the prospect of deviation.

Now, that last sentence may have been contradictory to a huge heaving pile of desire, but the truth of the comparison is relevant. The self I wear to survive in the world is different than the self I am when I am in my jams. I work my ass off, and play my ass off too. I have met some people who like to work hard, and others that all they want to do is play hard, but never both. The ideal would be to find a similarly motivated go-getter with a pension for cutting loose.

Such a person (along with all the other unreasonable measures of acceptance) does not exist. I accept that my moon girl will never be there the way I thought she might be. I don’t know why I had such silly dreams, but the shattered remains have all been swept away, and we don’t buy vases and pottery anymore.

No one likes to hear about how frustratingly lonely it is. It’s consistently not interesting to you. However, this is my Blog and my putrid vocabulary waste dump site for all time and I’ll barf on top of big piles of stale vomit for as long as it suits me. I moan and writhe in the mud of my own suffering as is mandated by the gods.

Sometimes shining the light on a thing is just what it needed to be recognized. I shine that light a lot, so I don’t build up big basements full of pickled shit log thoughts. Nothing about that’s storage of things is good, especially when the basement is full.

I’m a grant researcher and writer. That’s pretty cool. I’m a paid employee of NAMI Sacramento, which is also very neat. I have dome real plus shit in the yes column. No disregarding that.

Will there be?

No. It’s too late.

Zzzzzzzzzttt

Zuuurm

Zzzttt

-{===|]

Highly Useful

Score: +3.5

That score might have been higher but my physical exhaustion is peaking. I had a solid 4 hours of packing and labeling today, and more tomorrow. I’m quite familiar with moving and I know the steps that need to be taken. The labor is the only obstacle.

Lots of connections are being made with relevant individuals, forwarding my career. I am more established and essential than ever before, and solidifying my status as a relevant individual in my local mental health community

Blog, right now, as I feel quite stated and exhausted, I have a sense of meaning that is hard to explain. I have an integral part to play in my community, city, county that I have yet to fully comprehend. I take steps forward, every day, to try and make a difference. This world is not right, and from whatever aspect of it that I can, I will try to change it.

I have been on and on about this. If anything, it’s evidence that I’m serious. I really do want to affect change, and I’m learning the things I’ll need to do to accomplish that. A lot of what I have left to give will be outwardly projected towards provoking action.

Tomorrow is another day of earning my worth. I demonstrate my dedication by continuing to be there, be present and helpful for an organization I believe in. One that has previously helped me immensely. I know we can bring something better to this county, and I’m determined to try.

I do, however, feel more alone than ever before. No one understands me. No one cares to know why. No one desires to know. The lack of personal interest may only be a temporary thing, subject to change. That concept is key, since I am a motivating force to help deviate from am unsuccessful norm to a productive alternative.

I wish.

There is nothing left for that. Those dreams are gone.

Time might be running out. Just do as much as can be done, and know in your heart, you did what was right. Die with honor.

Step, Step, Step

Good evening Blog.

The success train continues to head in a forward direction and my usefulness increases day by day. Tomorrow I’m helping NAMI move, AND becoming an official employee. Yep, I get my paperwork tomorrow that will make it a done deal. The status of “employee” is now earned, even if I don’t think I have a job title at the moment. Plus, there will be pay!

I did look back on yesterday and I was pretty “up” that evening. I do tend to get very activated from social events and this was no exception. Pride Fair was very busy and fun, and I brought all that energy and very good news together in a very excitable presentation back at home. Then later I was feeling lonely. Even though my shit is awesome, I still have no one. Then I got spiteful and wrote the Boom post. I think only one person saw it other than the Hunter-Seeker.

So as you can see, I did give it some thought and I have observed what happened. I’m not manic by any stretch (there would need to be a lot more of it for longer), but those acute emotions are much harder to regulate than before.

I have a grant-writing appointment this Saturday to take SCALE to the next level, and bring some much needed knowledge and precision to the arrangement. Are we going to try for that money? Fuck a dilly doo we are!

I can tell most new people are like: “who is this guy? Where did he come from?” I got asked to do Peer Support for someone’s son today, gave out my number, and schmoozed. It’s kinda hard to not get worked up when SO MUCH awesome shit is happening.

Tomorrow and through the week, we will be packing, planning and doing. The steps are consecutive, and headed up. I regret using my pride to bludgeon those who did not appreciate me. All that is done is as we remember it, forever, and nothing more than a fading dream.

Have a good night Blog! Living the kind life.

Pride Fair

Score: +4

Well Blog, today went about as good as it could have gone. The two people I volunteered with were about the two most useful people I could have run into in my progress for career advancement. I have taken a monumental step forward that may make my SCALE project eligible for a $1,000,000 grant.

I have a NAMI Sacramento board member ready to write the grant proposal with me, and an individual with direct knowledge of the legislature and police in the city. Both were captivated by my project proposal. I have a future appointment with one of them to start writing the grant.

Honestly, I was not expecting such a HUGE result from today, but it is clear I am accelerating rapidly towards a future of activism, outreach and improvement. I am taking steps forward to make my community a better place to live. I will continue to head in that direction, forever. I mean it Blog. I have nothing if I cannot make a difference in this world. I will not sit by and let people suffer endlessly into perpetuity. I will not continue to fuel a system that subjects the disadvantaged to lower standards. I will not let mentally ill people get shot by police in situations where they need or be. This cycle has to end. How many more must suffer and die? Blog, if you are still out there, can you see me? I feel so proud of myself for trying with all I have to make my world a better place. I’m not just making this shit up. I am living the life of a truly severely mentally ill person who just wants to be proud of the life he has lived. I can make a difference. I can change lives, and help us be a better community. We are all people together, and we don’t have anything over each other when it comes to being people. The bridge of conversation is acceptance. I am. I will be.Thank you to those that remain to see my rise. If you have the courage to be a part of the change I am bringing, join me.

Astronomy Topic: Genesis Here and There

Good day Blog.

 

In this article, we are going to have a detailed discussion on a variety of thoughts pertaining to the developmental potential of life in general, and the chances of a genesis that took place somewhere other than on Earth. The subject matter revealed in the following paragraphs is explored using scientific theory, factual observations and heretical speculation on my part. If you are reading this, then the content below should be absorbed with the intent to stimulate thought, and not conclude or prove. I doubt anyone who reads this blog anymore believes a fucking thing I say anyway.

 

Now, to be clear, the term “genesis” is a tad loaded. One thing both scientific and religious definitions have in common is that the burden of proof does not weigh them down. As of this article, Humans have not been able to duplicate the circumstances in which life first formed. They have even gone down to the level of exploring the interactions between individual proteins and amino acids, yet the actual moment of genesis remains unobserved. So, we have a “before” scene where there is this warm organic goop all hanging out in a tidal pool somewhere on a prehistoric shore, mingling. Then, there’s a gap where something happens to make life possible but no one knows what it is, we will call this section “poof!” Then, the “after” scene is basically the start of the evolutionary process which has led to the diversity we know today. Humans have reverse engineered the shit out of every organism they can find, then they did the same thing to all the dead ones too. Two of three isn’t so bad, right?

 

Therefore, when we talk about life on other planets, we are making a big assumption that the spark of genesis is really there and we just don’t understand it. Because we have this sandwich of knowledge around the missing meat, we can infer what might be possible based on the trajectory of the evidence before and after. Despite the incompleteness of the theory, one can’t fault innovation and imagination simply because of a particularly perplexing missing piece.

 

Having provided that perspective, I’d now like to open your mind to a series of fantastical possibilities. Given what we know for certain, we are able to make very educated inferences about the future based on the facts at hand. That’s why we can have a discussion about genesis and extraterrestrial life, because we are open to understanding the vastness of why and the unexplored reaches of how. To fully immerse oneself in this topic is also to embrace a sense of burgeoning community. If life is more common than simply here on this planet, we will not be alone anymore.

 

Even if we don’t quite understand the exact nature of genesis, we can still open several more theory doors to the chance that the spark of first life might take hold in a variety of chemical mediums, or arise from organic molecular combinations we have not seen in our biology. Maybe even life different in fundamental coded structure from Humans and our (so far) unique DeoxyriboNucleic Acid genetic sequences. That would be quite a scientific revelation indeed, and also joyous in a very relieving way. Think of all the things we could learn from other intelligent life. How that discovery would change humanity is something I’d like to see.

 

Let us now go on a journey through our local solar neighborhood. There are some places, right nearby, where life might be happening or has happened pretty recently. We are investigating most all of these objects with scientific instrumentation. Whether having the right ingredients for life, or being a delivery system of the ingredients for or life itself, there are many places extraterrestrial organisms could already be taking hold.

Mars

The planet has deteriorated far beyond the point in which life was likely flourishing and the environment was habitable. Now, however, it’s a piece of overcooked iron toast. The atmosphere is nearly gone, and the surface has been under relentless assault from solar wind and cosmic background radiation for tens if not hundreds of thousands of years. There is no powerful magnetic field stopping the bombardment, and no way Mars can even feasibly hang on to the Carbon Dioxide it has now. Radiation alone renders the top several feet of the surface saturated by unhelpful charged particles. Almost every single life form on Earth would die is several ways, within a few moments of being exposed to the surface of Mars. That being said, there is a significant measure of difficulty to overcome in theorizing about how life could still be happening there. Since only a tiny fraction of particularly durable organisms and bacteria (maybe something like a Tardigrade [which can repair its own D.N.A.]) from Earth would stand any sort of chance of survival, we have no model for where or what to look for as far as identifying an environment on Mars that enables life rather than tries to kill it.

Human beings on the surface are likely to be the deciding factor in determining whether the red planet has or had life. I believe it will only be proven or not by direct observation and laboratory-level intense scrutiny… something probes and rovers cannot provide. In this Human colonization of Mars imaginary scenario, there are nearly endless chances to explore, sample and test to see if life had ever come to exist on Mars. Once we determine when it had or if it had life, we might then also compare the mechanics of Martian life to our own. If we share the same genetic code, there would be a strong possibility that life as we know it would have originally had one genesis. That is, if after radiocarbon dating the sample, a determination can be made about who was first. Since we share the same genetic code, we can infer that the “genesis” that took place on Earth might have been an invasion and eventual global takeover.

Four billion years ago, as the Earth was mostly a molten slag-ball, Mars may have been teeming with life. It had oceans, protection from solar radiation, and all the conditions plus time life would have needed to develop in some way, and achieve diversity. Maybe at some point during Mars’ prosperity, a piece of the surface could have been blasted out into space during a meteor impact. Within that Martian crust would have been some trapped microbial life, stowed away and frozen into stasis by the vacuum of space. It must have been an organism small and durable enough to survive the journey through Earth’s atmosphere, but once warm and on the surface, life for the Martian organisms began again. This burning thought-wagon postulates that there was only one genesis… the one that happened on Mars billions of years ago. That would make you, so-called Earthling, a 2nd generation Martian colonist.

Recently, NASA has announced the discovery of complex organic molecules in a few places across Gale Crater (which NASA has been exploring for 6 years), and also, that there are seasonal Methane plumes which increase in the Martian summer, and decrease in the winter. The cause is unknown at this time, but potentially an indicator of organic processes taking place in a subsurface capacity (there is a chance this outgassing might be a geologic mechanism of some kind as well). The Curiosity Rover recovered a sample rich with organic molecules, having only drilled 4 inches into the rock it was testing. 4 inches? The radioactive bombardment upon those 4 inches of exposed rock has been extreme to a degree we could not possibly comprehend behind our magnetic field. Yet, the sample they tested was still loaded with some of the most crucial building blocks of life. The European Space Agency’s ExoMars lander will be equipped with a drill that can penetrate 6 FEET below the surface, free of the influence of the irradiated zone. in 2020, there is a real  chance of identifying subsurface microbial life, bringing the final question of whether life is possible on other planets into focus.

Europa & Enceladus

Once the first images of these worlds came in from the Voyager missions, the questions began mounting as to the nature of the Gas Giants and their moons. They have always been a source of fascination, and we made them a priority in our exploration of the outer solar system. Later missions to the two largest planets in the neighborhood revealed many hopeful signs that environments existed, beyond Earth, that might support life.

There are a few mechanical characteristics at work here that help to make theorizing about life in these remote places possible: both of these icy moons are orbiting planets vastly larger than they are (the Gas Giants Jupiter and Saturn, respectively), and they are affected by the potent gravitational attraction of their planetary parents. Both Europa and Enceladus are tugged on consistently with what are known as tidal forces. Jupiter physically pulls Europa’s surface closer to it while the moon rotates on its axis. That deformation creates tectonic friction deep inside the moon, and the small cores are able to stay warm.

The disproportionately strong gravity of their Gas Giant parents provides a continual source of internally driven convection. That heat subsequently  melts large amounts of frozen water ice that comprises the outermost layers of each. Water is one of those things that has certainly been entwined in our evolution, and may be necessary for genesis to take place elsewhere.

Life can persevere even in the most extreme environments, which is why we think it could be happening in the subsurface oceans of Europa and Enceladus. A great example of how this could be possible so far from the sun and under miles of ice comes from the discovery of volcanic “black smoker” vents in the of the oceans of Earth. These remote outcroppings of volcanic heat and minerals have entire ecosystems developed in close proximity to the warmth, cut off from everything around them on the seafloor. Undersea volcanic vent habitats prove that sunlight is not necessary for life, and energy through heat can provide the spark needed to create diverse organisms. If similar conditions are going on right now in the deep oceans of these frozen moons, there could be a plethora of complex life with a starting point at a fissure releasing volcanic heat and nutrients on the seafloor. In the expansive layer of liquid water, where there is heat and organic molecules are mixing around, life has a promising chance to develop if it hasn’t already.

A potential (thus far unfunded) mission to Enceladus would be a prolonged orbital survey which would collect a sample from an erupting geyser, a phenomena recently observed and a chance to sample some of the liquid water underneath the icy exterior. Chemical analysis through observation, as well as direct sampling for organic compounds might answer a great many questions about the potential (or current) habitability of the water trapped between the crust and the core. The Enceladus Life Finder would do, well, pretty much what it says, if ever the project is embraced.

Carbonaceous Asteroids

This one is more about something I personally suspect, but the scientific community has largely not all that excited about. These objects would present evidence in the transfer theory where life can survive in space and through re-entry.

Asteroids of this type, like 101955 Bennu (may collide with our planet at some point this century), are made of a lot of organic matter unlike most other asteroids comprised of Iron and Nickel. The things we think these types of asteroids are made out of pose a lot of questions about the ability, or even possibility of life being able to hitch a ride, travel through the vacuum of space, and survive re-entry through an atmosphere. If genesis did not take place on Earth, we may want to consider the possibility that life was already started somewhere else, and just happened to land on Earth at the right time. Even if there is no way life could have survived on or in it, asteroids like Bennu may have provided the final ingredient needed for genesis to take place in the sludge pools near Earth’s early oceans.

We are going to pay a visit to Bennu this year with the OSIRIS-REx. mission, which is well on its way to intercept later in the fall. It is a two-component mission: most of the probe’s time will be spent in orbit, photographing and analyzing. One of the eventual mission objectives will be to extend a sample gathering arm to recover surface material, then, In 2023, return the sample to Earth for study.

These tiny little fragments of some larger object in the solar system’s early history are valuable relics that may point to when “first” genesis took place… maybe long before Mars, at the very beginning of our celestial formation. Or, they could prove to be loaded with useful organics that without, life may not have even been possible on our planet.

Titan

Okay, so here’s where the imagination and theoretical factors are going to kick in.

Titan is a very strange place in a lot of statistical ways, but similar in a significant, visual way. Titan has a thick atmosphere of Nitrogen, like Earth, but also is so cold that Methane clouds pass by overhead, condense and rain down on the land, and fill seas of liquid Methane and Ethane that cover parts of the planet, much like Earth’s oceans. There are storms, wind, and features that from above, look strikingly similar to surfaces on a planet where weathering and water erosion pervade. Most of the mountains on Titan are made of hard, frozen water ice, trapped in that state on the surface with a frightening daytime temperature of -291 degrees Fahrenheit.

So, what exactly about this place gives rise to life? Where’s the heat? Where is the primordial sludge?

Given there is still a lot to be learned about astrobiology, it is probable to assume that if life is possible beyond the Earth, that it may come to rise in a variety of circumstances, and possibly, in unique ways we have not yet been able to conceive of. Titan is overloaded with useful organic molecules, which is a good start. Is it possible that because all the pieces might have been there for just as long as the Earth has been around (roughly), that some form of life could be gleaning an existence off the limited energy resources available? Unlikely, yes, but not at all inconceivable.

There is also a chance that the internal friction of Saturn’s gravity on Titan has allowed for there to be active geology (hence the lack of craters). It is clearly not an inert ball of frozen Nitrogen and water. Saturn’s pull on Titan allows for Methane to exist in all three stages of matter, and liquid organic molecules are useful when constructing biologic life (as we know it). Whether the heat-energy exists somewhere in a subsurface cavern or deep ocean trench remains to be seen. One can’t simply ignore that the ideal primordial soup may exist somewhere other than Earth, and be a home to life in a way we can’t yet fully understand.

Coming up in the not too distant future, NASA intends to send the Titan Mare Explorer to Titan which will patrol the liquid Methane oceans with a wide variety of above and below surface instrumentation, in search of life that may be hidden there. The mission may also integrate a submarine functionality to explore the deeper places of Titan’s Methane seas.

Kuiper Belt Objects & Long-Period Comets

This one kinda combines our sense of mystery and limited understanding of the contributions to existence provided by this region of the solar system. One of the unanswered questions that seems to be puzzling scientists is: where did all the liquid water on Earth come from? How did we get so much? Some scientists think Comets carried it in from the outer solar system during the Late Heavy Bombardment, but there also a lot of research debunking that. However, it can undoubtedly be true that that material Comets and K.B.Os. are made out of contain a lot of organic material, and water (even if its the wrong kind). While having Long-Period Comets collide with the planet is a bummer, the things they leave behind could have greatly contributed if not been directly responsible for life on Earth in the cooling that occurred in the millennia thereafter.

But is there life clinging to existence in a frozen stasis in the distant fringes of the sun’s influence? Did life come from this place originally, long ago, and make its way in towards the sun as gravity distorted orbits? Is it out there now, hiding, waiting to be found?

The real trouble here is that the objects we are discussing are unimaginably far from us to do much more than observe. New Horizons is going to photograph and spectrograph a few of them, but they will not be landed on or otherwise extensively studied up close. As I write this now, that novel probe is an additional 1 billion miles beyond Pluto, headed for another object. The likelihood of life in these places though is inconceivably small. From what we know about life, energy plays a big role in it getting going. There’s almost no energy out there, in the deep cold. The sun is far away, and not providing enough pull or warmth to think active geologic processes are somehow happening by those means. Life would need to have formed with an astonishingly low energy requirement, and from our current models, that doesn’t make sense. Some have thought in situations of binary systems, like Pluto and Charon, that the significant tidal forces could be the reason we observed so much new surface geology and vastly different landscapes on Pluto. That fact, at least means there’s warmth somewhere, enough to melt the frozen Nitrogen and give Pluto the aura of an atmosphere (and blue skies overhead). The possibility of life is low, and the sliver of imagination is that, just a little tiny sliver.

Sadly, objects located in the extended fringe of the sun’s influence are particularly hard to study up close. Landing something on them seems unlikely, as the E.S.A. discovered in its failed Rosetta  landing. Now, the interstellar object in question for the Rosetta mission landed on a Short-Period Comet that was not that far from us, in contrast to where most of the Comets’ buddies are hanging out. Nevertheless, the idea of studying something so potentially volatile and with low gravity presents all sorts of challenges for future Astronomers to ponder. We did, however, crash a probe into a Comet many years ago, and we have also collected organic molecules from their gaseous tails. We know they are made of stuff we have on Earth, but it is unclear what sort of impact (no pun intended) they had.

As far as missions go, getting out to the Kuiper Belt requires a lot of time, and an insane amount of speed. New Horizons, the mission NASA/JPL that gave us all the information we have on Pluto, essentially did a super high-speed drive by at 36,373 miles an hour. Going into orbit around a K.B.O. is not possible at that speed without a DRAMATIC slowdown… which means the probe had to carry more fuel so it could burn some to enter orbit… fuel is heavy and adds extra weight… more weight will make it take longer to get the spacecraft going fast… you see where this is gong. These K.B.O. missions are streamlined, because getting out there as quickly as possible still takes 10 years. The mechanics of landing (more likely, crashing) something on the surface of a Kuiper Belt Object are brutal, and the obstacles to success abound. Even if the spacecraft just fired off a little scientific projectile type instrument of a form, it is uncertain if the descending probe and the spacecraft could be oriented for communication long enough to recover the observations before it got too far from the transmitter.

I think this region will remain unexplored and not fully understood for generations to come.

Conclusions?

Sadly, I don’t think we can draw any; that’s not what these conversations are about. We read, think and wonder. The engine of the imagination roars for a time, then is quiet. I love to sit back and think about all the fascinating things we don’t know, but are trying to figure out. The observable universe is still, fundamentally, not comprehended. Mechanically, we can’t explain why, just like we can’t explain how genesis happened. As a male, I do like conclusions and things that could be considered “done.” Awe for the world has a lot to do with an appreciation and respect for the unknown, and is also a challenge to the interpretation of ourselves in this world. I don’t pretend to have the answer, but that’s not going to stop me from thinking about what the answer could be. The exercise is in exploration, and I do hope you come back and read some more as we will be ranging all over the spectrum with discussion topics.

Thanks for reading, come back again soon for another exciting and imagination-provoking topic.

Images credit: Wikipedia

 

30,000

Score: +2.5

A draining day, energy wise. I had originally designed to megawalk tomorrow, but I just got fired up today. I felt the motivation to do, so I did.

I’ve done very well for myself lately. I’m active on the full-time job market and now a temporary employee of NAMI Sacramento. This is progress, true, even if not at the accelerated pace I had hoped. Still, this is a great sign ultimately.

What’s especially rewarding about integrating into this nonprofit has been a recognition of my passion to affect change and make a positive difference in my community. I have come to realize my insistence, persistence and perseverance will make me an instrument of positive action wherever I go. My future, in this current trajectory, looks very good.

I have done some introspective processing about my exes of late. As you know, I have had a difficult time detaching myself fully from concern. However, after residing with complete disconnection for several days, I have found the feeling quite reassuring. I know I can stand on my own, and finally have a confidence in my internal strength. I think I am fully releasing my preoccupation and moving forward. Even despite good intentioned probing, it has become abundantly clear not even a crumb of positive worth remains. There is nothing they have to offer that will improve my life. On my own, I’ve done fantastically for myself, and with them, I suffered until I collapsed. That should be a good piece of evidence in my advancement.

It really came together today. I pushed myself to this new, remarkable high point in my pursuit of better physical and mental health. I have grown, learned and become something much more than I was. I feel truly proud of that. 30,000 is symbolic, because I keep pushing the edge forward. Break that ceiling and advance beyond it. Something that astonishes me is seeing people holding the power to change their lives, but having no clue how to implement. It’s something I want to help people see, so they can capture control of their own destiny.

So I have said farewell to my past in a variety of ways, introspectively, analytically, in prose and verse. I’ve dealt with my past, tried to make something positive of it, and left the trash on the refuse heap where I picked it up from. I no longer waste my time on people who don’t deserve it.

I have something of indisputable value to offer, and I will offer it and I know it is already being recognized. Sometime soon, I will be affecting change in my community, and altering the landscape of mental illness awareness to those around me. It feels truly good to be part of something growing.

You know what I don’t have? Hate, resentment, stored anger and a vengeful Desire for retribution. Last time I checked, it really sucks to carry around that crap. Even a tiny bit on me has a rapid impact on my demeanor. It’s a poison that sullies observation and interpretation as long as it is present. I learned the hard way by being a perpetual asshole. After a time, that sort of life didn’t really reward me in a meaningful way. Therefore, I cast it away. What a feeling it was to let go of all that luggage.

Life only lasts a little while. I have no intent to spend my time hating others, regardless of how valid the reasons. It’s a waste of time, and doesn’t move anything forward.

Okay blog, rant over for now. I’m so yes.

Trail Shoe

Goodbye’s Hello

1.

Magnetic sunrise,

Purples shining in reds,

Twisted sinews in roasted heat,

Delicate wet petals,

Fragrant mystery,

Deluded in flavor,

Fueled in hate.

Blasted bits scatter.

2.

Green canopies over,

Soft inviting eyes,

House of dreams,

Sparkling nights.

Fire-bright.

Disturbed underneath,

Cancerous rot–

Melting surfaces,

Forged, bludgeoned, ruined.

3.

Boundless joy–

Rising to days,

Adventures teeming–

Jubilant.

Decaying.

Festering in disinterest,

Foiled by distance,

Dry pots,

Plagued roots,

No plant will grow.

4.

Benign but present,

A foundation–

Cracked and listing,

Imperiled by slope,

Decline’s passenger–

Walking free,

Escaping the abyss.

5.

Voices remind,

Burdens of reality–

Crushed to a deserved fate.

Still,

Within, an ember–

Glowing a feint promise,

A heat unextinguished,

Flared or dormant–

The fire remains.

Walk The Talk

Score: +4

Say hello to the newest “temporary” employee of NAMI Sacramento!

Turns out, perseverance pays off as I have now been given a temporary compensation contract for the organization’s move to new offices. I also will be representing the non-profit at the Pride Parade this Sunday at our booth on Capitol Mall. I will have a chance to interface with potential program participants or otherwise interested parties all morning as the parade gets underway. All told, today was another big logistical step forward.

I sent a message to the Mayor of Sacramento this morning with a vision for the future. A time in which communities can depend on themselves and resort to county resources when needed. I intend to forward my new and improved SCALE initiative until someone embraces the philosophy of improvement I am preaching. I don’t care if I’m just some crazy fuck shouting into the darkness. I will not be silenced. I will be heard. If not by anyone but myself. My intent is pure, and I will speak if only to make sure that the universe knows I am trying to do right by it.

The truth is, I know I was made to make a difference, somehow, some way. I can’t live the life I have lived and be satisfied. There is so much I need to atone for, and such an impact I can make given the experiences I have and the life I had. I am innovative, positive, and full of ideas for how to help communities rise above problems that do not need to continue to go unresolved. I know education and awareness can make a significant difference as once the truth of a thing is realized, it takes active deception to make it otherwise. Frankly, with the suffering that pervades, I don’t think the investment will be in continued suffering, but rather, some form of progress towards a more sustainable model of society.

I have a vision for what could be, and until proven soundly otherwise, I wills strive in whatever capacity I have at my disposal to make a difference in the world around me. For my brothers, sisters and unrecognized family in mental illness, I have your back. I am marching forward, with the tatters of the past shed free and falling behind. Now is the time for the new, the undiscovered, and the unconquered.

Better Than

I had another interview, but it was not my career… not even close. It paid too little and asked too much, so I walked out. I’ve never done that before.

Basically, I’m a very valuable asset and I will be recognized as such. I deserve to be treated and compensated for the tremendous energy and presence I bring to everything I do.

I wrote the mayor. I am, at this point, going to poke until someone pays attention to me. I have ideas, and I’m not going to fade away into irrelevance. I’m here, strong and able to make a difference.

I’m determined to have at least some aspect of my SCALE project realized. I have good, innovative ideas. I bring change, growth and improvement. I will not be stopped.

Determination. Perseverance.

I will be something. I am something damnit! Realize my potential universe!!

Alas

Score: +2

Got extra steps and sun time in today since I had been feeling down. I called a psychiatrist and got another job interview, so I’d say that was productive. I did some good things for myself.

In other news, a spider is in my room somewhere, hidden, waiting. I had my chance to kill it, as it was a particularly unfriendly looking arachnid. However, it deployed some form of countermeasure and escaped destruction. I’m thinking Bears are behind this.

I feel pretty detached from my sexuality. After separating my focus from topics without solutions, I’ve done a lot better managing my emotions. My sex drive basically shut off, with no object of desire at all within the scope of reality, no future, no investment to make. The flame has been snuffed.

I continue to find my place in this new city of mine. Trees are friend, it has been known for some time. I’ve lost my fishing impulse. It just, doesn’t feel fun. Clearly, this is depression affecting me slightly. I can push through with simple survival in mind, and very likely be okay. I do hope to hear back from the psychiatrist next week and get something scheduled.

Though I am clearly struggling, I am coping. I express, process and move forward. My hope is to achieve stability and prosperity again, while still being able to protect those I love.

The cat, on the other hand, vexes. Since Moo bought healthier rabbit meat kibbles, they have been soundly rejected in comparison to the previous variety of fleshy rabbit freeze-dried meat hunks. As you are about to see, the fantastic enthusiasm leading up to the moment food arrives could not have been more disappointing.

Promotatives

(Much harder given the climate, but I need to do this to help myself right now)

————–

Friendly

Outgoing

Ambitious

Humorous

Creative

Original

Insightful

Wise

Intelligent

Sincere

Logical

Attentive

Generous

Communicative

Sexual

Emotional

Courageous

Observant

Honest

Gentile

Affectionate

Dedicated

Loyal

Determined

Optimistic

Jubilant

Effusive

Kind

Moral

Untethered

Severed mooring–

Cast free on a drift,

Slacked touch ache,

Fading warmth fingered,

Slip the dust of her.

Currents steal futures–

Plied courseless,

Echo’s reply mocking.

Consuming cold stones,

Sinking, crushing,

Yellow to night,

Black horizon,

Dissolving–

Ahead but still behind,

Water tips in–

Gushing,

Vanish beneath,

Gulped, unnoticed.

Purposeful

Good morning. Today is a pretty relevant day. “Soldier” has got to be the most dangerous, archaic occupation on Earth, but without them, we would definitely not be here. Many millions of men and women died doing what they were ordered to do, and they held their ground despite knowing it would be the last thing they did. They never failed in serving whatever agenda they were required to. Whether the mission was moral or corrupt, they died doing what they were asked, and that is the truth of it. Whether you agree with war or not (I expect not), everyone can relate to soldiers. We are all just people, and soldiers deserve better than what they get. They give the most, and when they come home, they are treated like unwanted luggage. Recognize. Today is just one day, but do give a second to think about your reality being built on the decomposing corpses of millions of men and women you will never know.

I’m on the helpline today. I have also applied to be a counselor at a school in Roseville. As more jobs become available, I’ll be dropping my name in whatever hat I can. Maybe not the elephant shit scooper. Under qualified. Need a BA to even get in the cage.

I’m headed in a good direction right now. I’m going to go get my steps later, and continue this healthy activity program at full speed! Woo!

Really, I’m moderating. I’m just excited to be feeling good at the start of the week… a promising indicator, methinks.

Scccrrreeeeeee

-{===|]

NOOOOOOO!!!!!

Upperfied

Good morning Blog. I’m determined to be a good steward of my body and mind this weekend, and get back on a healthy track. With one foot in front of the other, progress is being made towards consistency. I always strive, knowing that there is no plateau of arrival, but a constantly vacillating slope of difficulties, calamities and triumphs. Thinking less of expectation allows for an adaptability to change, which is at the core of success for the mentally ill.

Affirmations and dedication are the remedy to my instability. Today I walk, and tomorrow too. As Captain Peter Quincy Taggert said so boldly “NEVER GIVE UP, NEVER SURRENDER!”

IMPLOSION IMMINENT

I’m withdrawing into a hole. My hopes are crushed flat like so many unwanted flapjacks in the IHOP dumpster of my life. I must be a real piece of flaming stink-shit if it is just so fucking easy to cast me aside. Lovers, friends, businesses, the list of agents of my ongoing despair gets longer as new and old parties alike find ways to disassociate from me.

Spiraling. I don’t want to feel like I did nothing, but the very little I did won’t solve a fucking thing. I wake up tomorrow the same pitiful man I have been, unskilled, undesirable and just adding more mass to the scrap heap of useless people.

I know, maybe if I disintegrate into a lowly degenerate and start suckling at the teat of society’s indigent services I’ll be finally heading in a more appropriate direction. People like me pretend to be great, but really we’re just trying to hide the obvious fact that were fucking stupid. Not just that, but also not something worth investing any energy in whatsoever. We are black holes of society, taking in matter and returning nothing of substance. Our only growth is an increasing need for more handouts, more pity, more pedantic preachers telling us “oh well here’s what you should be doing…”

How maddening this all is. If only the surplus population of those who hate me could see me struggling now. They’d point and say “haha I knew you were a fucking loser, that’s why I cut you loose. Hahaha look at you now. How pathetic. What a fucking worm you are.”

Goodnight. Hopefully tomorrow is better.

Disposable

Bummer day for the self-confidence department. Not to say that any of my internally directed praise was untrue, I just have yet to help anyone else realize as much.

But nevertheless I sit now in the same sort of paralysis of control that led me to seek change in the first place. Back in a state of not knowing and not being able to be fully independent. It hurts to be reset, and hopes of progress demolished.

At this time, I’m not feeling at all interested in charging at this issue, but instead, sulking over yet another rejection in my world. The messages on the outside have all been working to undermine my positive propaganda.

Tomorrow is a new day, with no end to my predicament in sight. I have time, but even that will run out eventually. The light is dimming, and I have no one to talk to or share my feelings with. No one is interested in me, and why would they be? What the fuck am I? Clearly not worth shit to anyone that matters.

Thoughts: leave me alone. You’ve tormented me enough for today. I’m down in the hole and I’ll see about coming out tomorrow.

Full Reversal

This morning I was feeling pretty off center. After I wrote that post in the morning I sat here for a while thinking about my future, and what I wanted to do with myself. I needed a way to express my intentions, and aspirations for the time that I still have left. I resolved to channel that into something tangible, a project proposal I will shop around to the various nonprofits in town, starting with NAMI Sacramento. I spent an hour and a half pouring my intellect, talents and projected hopes into this, and brought a copy up to NAMI today. Both the lead project coordinator and executive director have it now. I honestly don’t know what will come of that, but it should be clear I am serious about grassroots activism and community awareness. My goal is to reduce taxpayer burden on public service and misuse of police resources handling issues that should be handled in the household, or surrounding community. We have to stop ignoring the issue of mental illness and start facing it down. Too many people are dying, lying homeless in the streets because we won’t look this issue straight in the eye. Now, in this time of ever increasing stakes, we need a voice of reason to help bring the focus back to where it belongs, on our home street. We either survive as a community, or we perish alone in our houses, isolated from each other with no one to save us.

I have included the full proposal I wrote below for your review. Just to provide you with some context, one of the larger challenges in this area has been activating minority communities in areas of need in terms of rendering mental illness services. Instead of burdening the system with providing care to indigent populations or others, emphasis should be returned to the individuals living in the community to be aware and mobilize to protect themselves and their environment. The motivation for this is common sense driven. The fact that we expect the police or county medical services to be the fail safe has resulted in many deaths, a huge swath of neglect, and a problem of deteriorating health and homeliness that is not improving but worsening. The status quo is failing, and now we need to really dig into why that is happening, and address a clear area of need. Bringing education to individuals will restore peace to households, change perspectives, eliminate stigma and reverse the trend of the mentally ill being scorned and relegated to the fringes of society. To restore peace to our streets, and safety in our homes, we must realize what we face, and learn about how we can better coexist with it. Opposition only leads to strife and death. The days of mental illness claiming the lives of those who have it are nearing an end, and my program aims to be the start of a new-wave of mental illness comprehension and treatment.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

PROPOSAL: NEW COMMUNITY-BASED OUTREACH/AWARENESS CAMPAIGN

PROJECT: Stronger Communities through Awareness, Leadership and Education (SCALE)

 

Westin Eric Bailey

Peer Support Specialist

May 2018

 

Synopsis: In light of the need for ongoing education and awareness of mental illness (and community impacts of) in many minority and disadvantaged communities, I propose to develop a program that will deliver a series of presentations designed to make common-sense arguments for improved mental health awareness at several (initially) communities of need in the Sacramento area. This process is divided into sections in order to properly create an effective outreach tool given the unique requirements of the various constituents of the areas in question. With my background in developing advanced educational materials and my vivacious, effusive and welcoming public speaking persona, I propose a fully-interactive experience that will help to make mental health awareness something a community can become proactive about. The objective would be to inspire individual communities to take charge of activism, assess need internally and begin to understand how the individuals in their community who suffer the symptoms of mental illness can achieve safety and stability through a new comprehension of the illness itself. The project, if implemented, will reduce the workload of police, county facilities and other government provided health care for the indigent.

 

Phase 1 – Assessment: The first stage of the project would be to gather information from new and existing minority community leaders by conducting detailed interviews and asking questions designed to assess the needs of a given local population. Once a sufficient amount of information is gathered, the project would then assess where the program would be most effective, likely given a limited number of opportunities for presentation. The program would then develop presentations designed for each audience in the selected communities across the area, so that each would be able to directly relate to the content being presented (drawing an emphasis to how close mental illness is within their own community, whether or not it is acknowledged openly).

 

Phase 2 – Trials: Program can be developed for 1 target community as a “first draft” implementation of the presentation to assess if the model functions as intended. If the focus of the program is successfully interpreted, information will be gathered from program participants to determine what areas need to be improved in the presentation in order for it to be more effective. Once this stage is completed, the objective would be to begin to promote, and go door-to-door providing information to communities in need. Additional implementations on a single-community basis may be needed to provide additional feedback. This stage must be collectively certified by the leadership in order to proceed with implementation.

 

Phase 3 – Outreach and Awareness: This stage would provide, in advance of scheduling presentations beyond the series of trials, a campaign on social media, TV, Radio and physically taking place in the communities where it is hoped a presentation would be held. The information provided to the populations across the city would specify that the objective is to provide real concrete resources for emergency situations, answer individual questions and provide a tailored product for their community and its unique needs. Outreach will proceed the opportunity to present, and should begin to alert the community well in advance to the presentation and associated resources that will be given out.

 

Phase 4 – Continuation: Program’s ongoing success will be dependent on constant adaptation, revision, and improvement through a long-term creative process over the period of time in which funding is available. A team of individuals can (permitting resources) eventually be developed to do the community assessments, interviews and design educational materials themselves, helping to spread the program farther out across the counties in the area, to any community in need. A leadership structure can then be developed to help maintain oversight and spread the effectiveness of the educational outreach to any community that requests it.

 

Conclusion: With a captivating personality and presentation style, I intend to forward my enthusiasm for mental health awareness and take a common sense approach to living beside people who are mentally ill, and how they all can thrive together. Making the poorest, most disadvantaged populations aware of this internal-crisis of neglect is essential. We intend to provide them with logical, easily comprehensible solutions and resources at all junctures, which will have a huge impact on all individuals in surrounding communities (if not by word-of-mouth but also by improved conditions). If communities can begin to take individual responsibility for their mentally ill, there will be fewer times a not properly trained police officer is called to deal with someone in a mental health crisis. There will be less need for people to be dependent on county resources if individuals are being assisted by their communities and families. The only thing this program can do, is help people understand what mental illness is, and how to handle it when it is a local  issue. We are going to take fear and stigma out of the myriad cultural misconceptions and reduce the issue of community mental illness down to the simple practicalities: Taking care of it themselves means fewer people will accidentally be hurt, die, or be forgotten; otherwise diminishing the integrity/perception of the surrounding community. I do believe that once the program is developed, the effects will be wide-reaching. This program, if funded, can save the city and surrounding county governments lost time and resources that will no longer need to be dedicated to addressing mentally ill individuals who have no place else to go.