this week has been a bit of a wash, and i don’t know why. for one thing, I’m waiting for the delivery of a new keyboard/mouse. believe it or not, that will make a difference for writing and posting. lately has become so frustrating, to just be able to sit at a computer and type. the sitting part has been difficult for months now, because of my feet. it seems i have had to take more time to lie down and elevate them. aside from that, the one keyboard i have that is wired, is not very comfortable to type-on. and the one i have that IS comfortable, is the wireless and it just drives me crazy when there is a stall or interruption. it always feels like i am waiting for the words to appear. am pretty thorough when comes to checking my words as i type.
also has been difficult for me to become enthusiastic about any computer endeavors, since the last hospitalization. mainly because it didn’t matter to them that i had a website, and all the amounts of work i put into online. the only thing that seems to matter to anyone are the “real” jobs. if i had a “real” job then they would consider my time more valuable, that i had some sort of “real” life that i needed to get back-to. but as it was, it didn’t matter if they kept me one more week or one more month. my work meant nothing to them. and that hurt. that realization hurt.
that you are more valuable as a lab rat, for some experimental medication process. and I’m still pissed off, because it is so far on the side of unfair you don’t know where to begin. i was using the stick deodorant they gave us to slick my hair back and look at least marginally presentable. how were you supposed to get up and get dressed and expect to NOT look crazy, when there was no way to do your hair? no make up and no SHOES, for god sakes? then they drag you into a meeting at a SANITY hearing, and how does that work? almost all perceptions of one human upon another, are based upon appearance.
these people don’t allow you basic ways to present yourself, and stack the deck that far in their favor of deciding you are incompetent. when you aren’t even given the tools to make yourself look ok. i don’t know about you, but i look pretty darn crazy when i just get up in the morning, and haven’t had my coffee and shower. and that’s how they leave you. to fight for your right to be considered “sane” — while not having access to clean clothes or hair conditioner. just makes you want to make THEM go without anything like that, and see how normal they can be.
so i want to get back into my life of purpose, which is in producing articles on relevant topics, and writing or doing the cartoon work. it’s just very hard to muster the motivation. like it will all amount to nothing in the end, anyway.
i am trying. am truly trying to put that all behind me, and say to heck with them. is not easy. i can’t even look at the t-shirt that i had to wear for weeks on end, because it’s not like you have a full wardrobe when locked up there. and ever since i was raped at one point, while wearing the “hospital gown” in a funny farm — i do not go without my street clothes if i can help it. and then there is the aspect, that if you have your family bring you more clothing, then it’s like you are settling down for a longer stay. you can’t win for losing.
i want to get beyond all this. i truly do. but whole thing haunts me, still. makes me bitter inside and angry. just so very angry. it’s not like i can have any revenge. it’s not like there will be any justice or compensation. all i have is the thought that life has changed. and i have to change inside, and be something different. something that survives. something that doesn’t allow that to happen again, to never trust anyone. period. not a wit. to be closed and protective and self-serving.
so every day is a new day of mystery to be discovered. and i set goals for myself, but sometimes i fall short. sometimes i simply sit all day and worry about my feet going numb. i cry and cry over myself, that am doomed and i can’t get my toes to warm up or feel anything, no matter what i do. and it worries the life out of me. but i have to ignore this to keep going. pretend there is nothing wrong, when i know something very big is wrong.
and the fact that when folk make you crazy, they put you in a hospital that doesn’t even treat a real illness like that. i think about going to a doctor, but it seems absurd. i was in a hospital, and no one bothered to help me with this. all they wanted to do was to make me hurt because they saw me as crazy.
well, i am alone and frightened and i hope to just get through every day. and i want to amount to something. but i just don’t know anymore. i find myself lately turning more and more to selfish ends. and that frightens me. because i have never been a selfish person. i don’t want that kind of change. i don’t want to be that kind of example. part of me has died, but i must bring that core back to life.
it starts from deep inside
for all it’s worth
spark of real
a day unlike any other
i love the newness in your eyes
despite how much you’ve suffered
it’s all the same
distance where all time grows strong
and never knows each game
i love you still
as much as worlds can hold
the better side of politics
even angels get their fill
when darkness folds
closed the seed
other starts on other days
i rinse the cup
and set it on the shelf
sigh for every lost one
as life itself is shamed
for next and
it was not me… but i would not complain
for all the emptiness
we’ll be lucky if we don’t blow up this week
things coming to a head
korea — some scary stuff
syria pakistan afghanistan
did you know the christians were marching?
marching in protest of getting blown up
the US government has been put on pause
we don’t know how long
but it might be a good idea to hit mute
and you can get insured
and have a doctor
and get flattened by a truck tomorrow
then it would be the end of the world
it is for each of us, you know
the end of all
within the end of one
we’ll be lucky if we don’t blow up this week
i am serious
some bad signs
make peace with the maker
i’m going to think about what i forgot
and why i should remember
decide on a different path
smile inside a little more
remember who i am;
the eye of calm
at the center of my own distilled view
it’s really bad
i am finding my feet
we’re going to get blown up this week
best to pretend it doesn’t matter
fall into routine
fall in love
fall on grace
fall fall fall
find wings somewhere as reality turns
heaven somewhere to the left of tomorrow
and to the right of where God never stands
is like this–there is not much to be said for the group that first told me that jesus died for my sins. in any school, one can expect clicks to develop among the students. in the lutheran school, these divisions also extended to the teachers and faculty. all conformed itself to the pecking order.
if a student’s parents were higher in church circles, then the teachers would defer to that student. and conversely, if parents were not involved in the church or considered of lower class–then the student was treated with disdain and often harsh punishment.
i saw all this.
we were singing jesus loves the little children, and that was a good thing because there wasn’t a whole lot of love coming from anywhere else.
as an adult, when i consider the types that adhere to christian faith, it does not leave me warm and hopeful inside. rather than seeing religion as a point to bring people together, i see it as illogical justifications to remain divided.
there are those who suffer indignity for the sake of inclusion, and those who rule the pecking order and are guaranteed forgiveness. there are those who try to be like jesus, and those who have a very long journey before they find any humility.
what is perfect? my dead ex-husband was far from a good man. but he did introduce me to one thing: the word “try.” you don’t know until you try. try harder. at least you tried. don’t be angry, i’m trying.
that wasn’t a part of my life until then. in fact, i recall my grandmother saying many times, “don’t try, do it!” there was no room for error. and no forgiveness for failure. the one thing that few realize is that their goal isn’t perfection, it’s conformity. what you believe as ‘perfect’ is actually conformed eventuality. yet the way to be perfect is to be perfectly yourself.
mostly i’ve tried to balance these facets of my life. if i don’t require someone to die for me, then in turn do not have to suffer indignity at the hands of the self-righteous. many years ago, i prayed at the alter and said “that’s ok, jesus, i’ll pay for my own sins.” never seemed a fair deal, God or no.
and since our own judicial system does not trade penalties–letting one person do prison terms for another–it becomes a matter of modern thought, education, and understanding. off-putting burdens to another is simply not correct. and i know–am well aware of the theological arguments. heck, i probably created half of them.
doesn’t matter. i ran the logistics in my own head at one point; it doesn’t work. and frankly, those who rise in the church pecking orders, are pretty cutthroat business folk. it is not the artists or the meek –those whom jesus stated were supposed to inherit the earth. no. that is what you tell the meek to keep them where they are. extremely common philosophy among impoverished nations. in fact you can distill many eastern sayings into that one nutshell.
is life about helping others? in order to have others to help, there must be those who have less. the self-fulfilling prophecy to beat all self-fulfilling prophecies. a dance of give and take. the haves and have-nots.
does your need to be giving outweigh another’s need for self-sufficiency? comes down to the family paradigm, and the infusion of roles. parents give to their children while children learn to be self-sufficient. dependency. lord it’s hard to be humble when you’re perfect in every way.
the widening of difference; you are this or that. we only have two hands. most of us are relieved when have to consider only two sides within debates. the polar nature of a gravitated existence.
but we’re all different, each to their own path. so there are as many sides as there are people. and you will know we are christians by our love. but it’s really by our laws, by what governs. reality is a precious thing. i don’t trust those who believe themselves kind when a great majority of their thought is founded on disdain.
so i really don’t know about the story of jesus and whatever truth it holds. i just know that in the computer world, you would look at the function and call it buggy.
sorry no Croxxed today, i must have picked up a flu bug while out yesterday. thought it was just my back being out, making misery– but going outside in 51 degree weather to sit on the patio, and didn’t feel cold at all.
at least a bit of a nap helped with the headache. and thanking everyone for the birthday wishes. when i was younger i remember thinking of 50+ as being OLD. gray hair, wrinkles and whole thing. while something has kept my hair from turning gray, have to admit if you get me in sunshine the wrinkles are definitely there.
i don’t know. you’re supposed to get older and wiser. most of the time i feel older and grumpier! one of my favorite sayings is “life is too short.” i guess if croxxed that, would be with “time flies when you’re having fun.”
has started to rain.
is it the child in me?
recalls commands for silence,
rewards for still;
hoping no movement
equates to delivery
i like when the world is a little blurry;
when rain is only a sound,
the background whisper
to better thoughts
on better days.
it hurts no less
than what grinds;
pulls the body to a halt
give me the rain
you worthless piece of something
the sound of excuse
is soaked in timeless divides
don’t mind me i never counted
on your deliverance
give me the rain…
drops of insincerity
a darkness to my own thoughts
sounds of stillness
in bartered remonstrance
on guaranteed tomorrows
well am officially over the hill … the view offers a field of wildflowers
the tree of knowledge.
and if you take your binoculars out, can see vultures in the distance
circling over a graveyard of dead dreams
yet still a few rest in pockets
within easy reach
fingers move over the smooth surface of hope
untouchable as music
waiting for another horizon
and i smile
because no one can take away the journey
footsteps crushed in the grass
time a friend
just this once
while the sunshine lasts
and the dreams weigh you down
only as far as the distance
Where countered ends in sight
Are ends designed
How often did I stir?
Remove the slightest bend
Complete each hope through innocence
As dark would dawn pretend
And as this keen remorse
Retains worry for its guide
Cruel to warm intension
Standing tall for strength and birth
Worthy is a nightmare
Gleaning purpose in each stride
Oh how the Earth!
Oh where is such grand agency
For truth complies
To suffer wrong;
Hearts –they die of gravity
they merge to matter– strong
And all I am and be
shall drink of knowledge
Never once remarking
How our sky bleeds rain
You are full starlight–
(bold of breath)
By which the stars are named
And so these rivers move
Time it tells
Through dams of faith
Shall find us watching….
Beware the shores!
Oh more oh more
Never doubt that here I am, here I stand
well those of you who have followed over the years, know i usually don’t do the awards thing. mostly because i live with a great deal of internet paranoia, that sees trackers in any image or meme. in fact, even for this one i copied the image and recompressed it with a graphics program. just part of knowing what computers will do — or knowing what people won’t do!
and don’t mean any offense! just understand the great underbelly of the internet, of which most users are not aware. a one-pixel .gif is enough to track, they call them webbugs. so anyway, i usually avoid the promos. try to say i’m too busy and that sort of thing.
but i was touched by michael chaney’s compliments of my work….maybe i’m in a vulnerable spot and needed the ego boost. but i’m flattered to be thought-of, and of course michael’s own writing is pretty darn outstanding.
so firstly 7 things about me:
1. i wear a size 10 in men’s shoes — most women’s shoes don’t fit, though that didn’t stop me from squeezing big feet into heels during those young, impressionable years..
2. i like the feel of the air in a rainstorm … the headaches usually disappear completely. i read recently that there are certain changes caused by the electricity from large thunderstorms. i’m a believer.
3. i think i would absolutely die if i didn’t write every day.
4. went to a private Lutheran school through 8th grade, and worked hard at being a mediocre student. there was probably not a single report card that didn’t state “capable of improvement.”
5. i was always uncoordinated, and picked last for any team sport. the ironic thing about that is that i’m very competitive and not half bad at volleyball, tennis or racquetball. or at least i was way back when before age and bad knees!
6. i learned how to drive on the Malibu coast highway. will never forget the look on my instructor’s face when i nearly took us for a dunk in the ocean. those curves are wicked!
7. and i don’t mind being called crazy…what bothers me is that the categories are so dang unoriginal. i want to belong to the mental illness that involves a pathological need to drink straight from the milk carton. and maybe something that involves running for a bus even though you know it won’t stop. i want to be defective because i learned to tie my shoelaces too young, and never once cried over how big my feet are. i don’t want to be crazy because my personality doesn’t match up to universal expectations. life is too short to let yourself be bored by what you have become. there is nothing wrong with fitting-in, but if you already stand out in a crowd, might as well make a go of it. when comes down to it–when push comes to shove–the one person you’re always going to go home with ….is you.
a psychiatrist complaining about you gaining weight is like a person hitting you who complains you have bruises.
are you exercising–walking?
i don’t have a car. i walked here. i walk every day.
i have coffee in the mornings and one meal at night.
you should have three meals.
i should eat MORE?
and then the trick of course is to remain calm, cool, and collected. (or you get charted as being fat AND antagonistic) they should have a bar next to the office, with a sign that says “freaks get half price on tuesdays.” i don’t hate my life, i hate others controlling it. where is the responsibility?
have seen patients helplessly obese, given charts and handouts on exercise and diet. it’s perverse, like some sort of mad experiment by sadistic characters. like they must be bored, sitting around avoiding every mirror in sight; rubbing their hands together in glee over the newest medication –guaranteed to plump up even the stubbornly thin.
i’m old school
don’t usher them outside–i squish spiders
if someone yells at me
i yell back
i don’t ask children to do something
i tell them
when i go to church
i bow my head
when i ride the bus
i stare out the windows
if someone sneezes
i say bless you
if i pass close to another shopper
i say excuse me
i don’t throw trash on the ground
and i only pick up pennies
that are heads up
always tip the waitress or waiter
and i smile at strangers
waiting for them to smile back
i don’t slam the front door
and i say thank you to
those who give gifts, even if it’s
only their time
the old school
i try not to make excuses
i take responsibility
and look for opportunities to help others
and i clean up my own mess
i say a prayer now and then
i worry about plans for the future
and dance when no one is looking
i squish spiders…..
I suppose the biggest problem is they feel superior to you. The man guarding the floor can be at a fourth grade reading level, yet in his mind–his pea sized brain–he ranks higher than any and all mental patients.
In fact, it’s not a coincidence that the ones who flock to these jobs have inferiority issues–that and of course required degrees of sadism. And the shrinks! All doctors pretend that giving a name to something means they understand an ailment. This is particularly true of psychiatrists. Armed with a diagnosis, will think they know you better than you know yourself. Everything you do is a manifestation of illness. It’s really quite frustrating.
What impressed me was that the floor was wood, covered with several thick layers of wax. Mr. Clippity-clop, I called him. In a pair of black Crocks, would go up and down the hallway–clip clop. If you stopped him to engage in conversation, the first thing he would say is “My lawyer is coming, you bet. I’m suing this place.” Then he would return to clopping up and down the hallway.
There was also a short swarthy man, who didn’t know any English. Fingernails painted black, he, too, would march up and down the hall, sometimes tossing an apple up into the air and catching it. Then there was Roger, striking an occasional martial arts pose while mumbling the Lord’s prayer. The big guy was fond of me, and an actual crazy person–someone who would likely be locked up his entire life. Far from stupid, but he knew they had his number.
The windows of my room looked out onto a parking lot–five floors up. The one wall was all window, and enough to give anyone constant vertigo. I slept with my back to the room, curled into a ball. The plastic pillow they issued was stuck to my face, wet with tears.
when i see prosperity
or the crazy lengths of
i imagine how it looks
through eyes of starvation
the pain of working hard to barely live
a point of shame
you know they used to make thick castle walls
hold court in refinement
while children begged in the streets
how i see tomorrow
success an avenue of guilt
fads and fashion and smug repose
i am not wise enough to withstand
hold accusation steady
do not tempt me to hate you;
it is not jealousy but anger at your stupidity
to only worry about the front
when you forget i see your insides
i know what kind of desperation lives in those climbs
i know how far unhappiness curdles your spirit
the child i was
wants to see relaxation bloom around your eyes
with no requirement to please
to not always have to “be” for someone else
as you did for her …so many years…
not knowing who you are
we don’t say ‘thank random events’
i couldn’t tell you
the degrees of mystification
they are supposed to be adults
these parental stands
so i feel sorry for the past
multiplied levels of fear
are we open-eyed?
what is knowledge if it doesn’t bring you peace
what is superiority for those affixed to absolution
how does the peach escape the rain
forever meshed within soil
the root of all matter
it is not teaching, has never been
it is the thirst for answers
belief in yourself above any redemption
rainbows and consequence
what happens when someone asks the impossible of you?
our real world contains kindness…
that’s all i ever needed
brighter goals (within abilities for nice)
have you seen my hands?
they have always been larger
but exponentially sound
i’m sorry if i come off as arrogant
it’s the one piece of those beginnings
to encircle anger
grown by the masters of intent
(their specialty was always deceit)
actions cannot be stirred by hatred only
thank God for differences
thank god for stark bands of relief
and thank Completion for random play–for the sound
of front and back
for the drop of a shoe
thank heavens i can see into the deepest soul
trade a smile for the growth of tears
for each time those bastards hurt you
our assumptions of idiocy
are too often made by idiots
humility is a prize?
more like shelter
driven to be upside down
when the rain has passed
people are saying this is a special type of Friday the thirteenth. as if there should be something mystical about something like the calendar, a theoretical concept mankind made up in the first place. makes me think of scientists that design mathematical formulas and then wow themselves with their uniformity. look in the mirror, folks. we are methodical creatures!
i got a new unlocked phone month or so back. the Blu Studio 5.3 S. a really nice phone, for a no-name brand. made in Florida, so you’re doing your patriotic duty.
but originally, i could get my AT&T sim card to work only in the second sim slot (this phone has a dual-sim). and not only that, but it would often lose contact and i would have to power down the phone and power it back up to get it to connect to AT&T. the phone calls were choppy and garbled. and i was seriously considering a return to Verizon. (even though the specs on most of their phones don’t rival the ones for the Blu).
in the end, if you’re a techie, that’s what you look at–the specs. strangely enough, Blu Studio 5.3s sports a quad-core snapdragon CPU. that ain’t chump change. the number on it just one below the quality that goes into a Galaxy Note II/III. to the effect that the general user is not going to see any difference.
and the “cheaper” phone has a removable battery (have not seen an android system yet that doesn’t need a cold-cock now and then). has the slot for SD micro chip …. so you can just pop your files from the old phone into the new phone.
that said, i had this problem with the sim only working in the number 2 sim slot. and the most frustrating thing was that it would only run the Edge 2G internet — no matter what APN settings i used. finally thought maybe the problem was AT&T, and spent a good part of the afternoon going over things with one of their representatives. still no dice and only the 2G.
SO — i took the SIM out and put it in my old AT&T phone. just to see if it got the 3G there. it did. so i went into the settings on the old phone and noted the APN list:
Name: ATT WAP
Username: (left blank)
Password: (left blank)
Server: (left blank)
MMS proxy: wireless.cingular.com
MMS port: 80
IP version: IPv4
APN type: default, mms, supl
after noting the APN settings, i put the Sim card back into the BLU — but put it in the number one slot. i also used a slip of paper, doubled, to hold it in place a little better …. as suggested by one user in a forum.
wasn’t reading the sim at all. but i was done messing around, and did a factory reset on the phone, with the sim in on the number one slot.
amazing thing happened, when it came back online, the card was at an H (highspeed) on the notification bar. that means it’s doing 4G. and no more lag on recognizing the SIM. if is on wifi only it shows the 3G symbol. that’s the first time I’d even seen it, up until then it was showing only G or E.
so that first slot is the one that has the 4G capability (shows H on notifications), i guess the 1900/2100 MHz or something to that tune. but for some reason it wasn’t working before the reset. AND i had reset the phone twice before, after installing aps that seemed to slow it down.
(for those that don’t know, to reset the phone to factory settings you go into System Settings>>>>Backup & reset>>>>>Factory data reset)
so I’m not sure what or how ………….. might have to do with putting the SIM for awhile into the old phone, changed a setting on the SIM so it could run the 3G/4G. might be that having the SIM in during the reset process kicked something into gear for the Blu phone.
i don’t know. it wasn’t just the APN settings, because i tried that before resetting the phone and they made no difference. and when i tried the SIM in the number one slot before, i had to change the default settings to GMS only for it to read at all.
so what am saying is that if you are using AT&T and getting only the Edge signal on your Blu phone, don’t give up. wish i had more definitive reasons on how it finally got working with the 4G — but main thing is you have to have the SIM card in the number one SIM slot. and don’t be afraid to talk to AT&T, let them know what make and model of phone you are using with your gophone account.
finally, for those who don’t know how to set up the APN — go into System Settings >>>>> Wireless & networks/More >>>>Mobile networks >>>> Network settings (make sure “data” is enabled) >>>>> CARD 1 >>>>Access Point Names. then to add the new APN settings, tap the menu key (bottom left next to the home key), and select “new APN”
after entering the APN settings, don’t forget to save them, by tapping the menu key again and selecting “save”
so i’m going over this
deciding that the causality cannot be that simplistic
let me ask you this:
do you care what people think?
the strange balancing act
where many find themselves becoming
what others expect?
i lost myself in my own tales
entwined with the gift of tongues and tomes
we stare at reflections
but they are stares only
the best of this world is past realization
you can see more without yourself in the way
though some eat shadows
and crave repetition like a chain of paper dolls
dancing circles around heads of blistering affectation….
dawn a light that makes most anything beautiful; even
a complex face destined to look inward
and bury the tears
even you, who decided to mark graveyards and cattleprods
with condescending wishes
i don’t care if i disappoint….(is that me? i think it’s me…) that, too–
is an art
my back popped weird ways
i’m not sure it’s ever twisted
that way before
so i lie here with less pain
spread out like an animal
every ounce of being
simply enjoying reality
part of my brain understands
sharpened brevity of this existence
i want to do and be like anybody else
to leave behind the pinch and swearing
have a cool mind
one that can smile at impossibility
and go, “you never know.”
yea a bit of a scoundrel
don’t always follow the high road
of others (man)
to decide on particulate justice
don’t we all?
marked by prison cells and cold desserts
partake lightly in royal grins…
the better to see eternity my dear;
better to roll down a hill
call yourself crowned
once upon a time
generally what we want to be
is a perceived excellence by others
that is then meshed by a perceived happiness
the line where these two planes meet
shifts according to the nature of rebellion
and how often sparsity craves the eternal words, “i’m proud.”
when she whispered these from her deathbed, meant next to nothing–
i couldn’t say why
maybe it was too late
maybe those words have to come from a seat of strength
i was the first to always say, “who needs you?”
walk away if not good enough to please
when veracity does its best
gradations of effort do not exist
you can do better!
fact is i always wanted to tell them no
what’s done is done
and suffers only through comparison
to be like a few
or to be like many
“be yourself” is a crock
it means “let us identify you according to something original” — scarce decisions.
“you are this or that.”
the drama of limited reactions
most only have two: approval
and go f*ck yourself
so in this
man coagulates into scabs upon the earth
though heal nothing but their own guilt
i do not know how to make anyone proud….
not while teaching stoic repetitions to see past the delivered anxieties
‘hope’ (is) such a stranger to so many
freedom curtailed by expectations
fear…man fears his own shadow
worlds of control steeped in idiocy
decide the path to no shadows
is to have no light
you look at me with strange considerations?
eh….i never needed anyone more than i needed peace
alone is rarely peaceful, though
that’s where you all screw up
or maybe that’s where i
forget to say i’m sorry
i saw no answer in goals
first i want those who listen to hear;
such lacks of joy are weighty
i have no understanding
for morose designs–
perhaps impressing the fallen
is no goal
for the mind with wings
we can tackle the most horrendous events
as long as we don’t tackle them alone
the sense of help
light and merry
strength in numbers
jealous of hope
fulfilled need is not the same
as the growing dream
what are your dreams?
mine died long ago
but i buried them with memories of injustice–
anger ever held to heart
a challenge of light
they might live again…
stranger things have gifted horizons
bent on no place better
than the sun
what if you give respect
when it is earned
show love every other tuesday
(unless it rains candy hearts)
be a friend
to those who are friendly
and find time to help your fellow man
but don’t make reality hurt
just so you can dream
rather than existing for others
and hoping they in turn exist for you…
maybe things shouldn’t be done
just because you want something back
maybe if life revolves on that many selfish motivations….
with deceit as a primary tool….
then we all should sit in a mud pit
and decide heat bakes life dry
as well as it warms
in that old apartment, the refrigerator fan was so noisy you couldn’t hear yourself think. the dishwasher didn’t wash the dishes, and the laundry had such broken-down machines that i finally just started doing “bathtub laundry.”
the stove was old and a fire hazard. the countertops were painted. the bathtub was painted. the waterheater was an energy hog, and they even replaced it with a “new” one but installed the same exact kind. the room heaters were the baseboard-sort from the 70′s — huge energy hog. the air conditioner had a giant hole in the side, with the vents completely open to the elements. in the winter time, it was like having a hole punched into the side of your house. if you didn’t have it on all the time in the summer, heat entered through it.
i feel sort of in shock — the new place i moved to this week has a brand new stove, brand new dishwasher, brand new counter tops. the refrigerator is new-ish and all the appliances are more top-of-the-line rather than bargain basement. i checked the laundry room and they are nice new machines w/digital readout.
closet has a built-in dresser, the livingroom has one of those gas fireplaces. it has central air and heat. the cable was installed today, and instead of saying i barely had enough signal to run the internet, he said there was too much and hopefully wouldn’t have to return to lower it.
you know that song from Sound of Music? where they sing “in my youth or childhood, i must have done something good.” that’s what i kind of feel right now. strange to have it be over a place rather than a person, but there ya go.
sitting on the patio the first night, the neighbor’s cat came over to say hi. mostly i feel like this can’t last, or i must be dreaming. or maybe my time in the 9th level of hell has run its course and i was due for a leg up. that if i sneeze wrong or forget my manners, the whole thing will evaporate–i feel a bit unreal for the moment.
i don’t want to write this thing sounding like am bragging. because that’s not it. it’s just been a long time since i’ve been in a “normal” place. and where you live kind of effects the sort of person you are. so i’m not sure what to be, but am thinking i need to shoot higher. out of thanks? i don’t know, but more or less be part of the solution instead of the problem. or fight a little harder to be a part of things. or contribute more in whatever way i can. today at the 7-11, the clerk talked about global warming, and at the end there said something like “the end days are coming.” (not an unusual thing in Salt Lake) and i said, “oh no, i sure hope not.”
i don’t know what to tell you people;
dead men don’t sweat
a floor filled with children is a stage
martyrdom is a real thing for many in the deserts,
a high calling for the righteous.
russia stands at the ready
are we really this stupid?
do we run policy according to reporters?
media shoves and pushes?
god forbid THIS is when our ferocious leaders
decide to take the internet seriously;
US needs another war like a hole in the head,
which many are willing to do
i don’t know what to tell you people
i really don’t
desperation does strange things to stranger people
russia stands at the ready, (she is angry w/us, oh yes the trade has not been good)
remember yourselves, US warriors
remember every warning ever given:
a trap is a trap.
man created plastic
but something that never goes away
never goes back into the earth
back to the whole
perhaps started with the wrong goals;wishing for a plastic soul,
the outlast of mortality
i wonder at our God
who counts every hair…(every bottle caught in the jaws of modern life)
bound upon a love that always lands on “i’m sorry”
do your children know the confluence? man and his plastic soul,
redemption and pride that
understands neither distance
has been a very warm summer after a very harsh winter. again, i find myself at a crossroads in life….and slightly past any possibilities to ask what i want to be when i grow up. more like what will occupy my time as this body continues to fall apart?
more than anything, just want a normal life. but am thinking that train already left the station. worlds and worlds….my friend. at this point am pretty sure none of it will make sense. but life has been good. no matter the road i take, it always leads to another tomorrow and hopefully within those tomorrows, are a few more smiles.
i don’t believe in love
i believe it’s been sold
far and wide
pinnacle of emotion
something to have rather than something you give
respect is more important
love is an empty tale
a bedtime story of comfort
familiar with need
never more real than when i cry for myself
to be a simple human and no more
together forgiveness meshes contrite design
a rose is here….. and gone
i don’t believe in love
i believe we take everything with us
and the destination is always uphill
the smell of hollywood
coconut oil and foster grants
extravagant buffer (zone)
suddenly more alone
off thin cement drawn between oleander and dying dreams…
savior of vanity and fading angst
not the better side, but
i’ll tell you it’s the difference between me and
utah: some souls have driven the 101 freeway –
yellow air yellow grass yellow dust –
knowing laughter in the sun
an option next to every smile; knowing the road
was made by man.
i didn’t get struck by lightning
but found it striking
gods at war
deep in the dark
clash of infinity
the skies collide
rules only the measure
of compounded understanding
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