Saturday, July 15, 2017



Oh my, how dramatical of me. Note the odd adverbal emphasis of the adjective objective coalescing into a sentence that would make some people's skin crawl, as if that metaphoric simile is even possible. I may have even mislabeled some of the literary turns of phrases in this mockery of language and self, but that is the fun of writing, always trying something new to get a point across... even if no one really understands it beyond the voices in my head.

I leave that for posterity (and you), to ponder.

I woke feeling shitty and after drinking 20 ounces of water and about the same of gatorade and leaving a really large poo soft in the poo repository (fecal material in soft-serve ice cream texture rising above the water line, if you really must know - as some do or we all poo, after all - and just think how my own body blog has been neglected even more than this body I loosely call mine has, really mucking it up now, aren't we? {speaking for the voices in my head, which get a rare second reference within the same writing session as if they really exist outside of a contextual form... only my inner hair dresser knows for sure, ya know?) and a cleansing shower and a cooling down, I feel much better now.

It is time to make the softball, however, so this writing mood must wait (with the same hope, naturally.

Cuz there is always hope (I hope) :)

Lest we forget.

So don't forget, m'ok? )

honest love,
me :)

Everything's better with hope :)

Sensing a Divergence

This belongs in letters to the night, however live journal shut that down, so it is here for now. If I return I may find or create another blog for this, but time is not available until later (hoping there is a later, of course, for who can predict the future). I will not even read for typos, just as is for now.

It was written to...

Ok, disorganized thoughts reflected in disorganized and intermittent writing likely stemming from a relatively disorganized and disconnected life at the moment.

Anyway, I woke with a muscle cramp in my upper right calf this morning. Anxiety? Stress? Fatigue? Medication Side effects? Dehydration? Electrolyte imbalance? Overheating? Another disease? The soft air mhattress that has me sleeping with my lower body slightly more elevated than my upper body and head? Cronic Kidney Disease? Congestive Heart Failure? Chronic Fatigue Syndrome? Multiple Sclerosis? Muscular Dystrophy? Simply Aging? Lack of exercise? Weight gain? Overeating Taco Bell and Bar food? Something in the supplements I consume? (Chromium, Vitamin B/C Complex, Multivitamin, Cinnamon, Apple Cider Vinegar, ?). Something else? A combination of these and possibly other factors?

I am not hypocondriacted, just an inquiring mind.

Some years ago I felt similar symptoms and attributed them to the side effects of the medication and I stopped the medication for a while, ignored my elevated blood pressure, and the cramping and heat exhaustion symptoms went away (as did the dry cough and fatigue), but was it that simple?

In any case, I prepare to head out to play a double header in the heat again. 1:00 pm and 2:00 pm games on the oven-baked fields with no shade or cooling factors. Some might call me foolish (or a lot worse), but I've done it for years (whole day tournaments and whole week tournaments in this sort of heat as well just over the last two summers and I did notice aging but I did fine and felt great).

Today is a test.

I hope to return here and not end up in the hospital again.

Or worse.

I hope these are not my last words.

At least there is still hope :)

There's always hope (I hope) :)

honest love,
me :)

Friday, June 23, 2017

Deeper Perspectives

This may belong in another blog as it is crossing into autobiographical babbling which is usually put elsewhere, like here or through music and song video or the one or wherever, but here we are again because this comes from a letter to family. Actually, it was her response to the letter in previous entry. She said...

She uses memes and quotes to communicate. That inspired...

My perspective is based on evidence. I've got a ton of evidence. I'd love someone to show me that people can be trusted, but I have a lifetime of evidence to the contrary and nobody shows me otherwise so that leaves me with this logic. It's ok. I understood aloneness as a very young child when I never had anyone I could trust or really depend on, from birth... and I spent six decades giving my all to find what I want. Someone to share unconditional trust. I did not give up, but I am not giving the way I used to because I am no longer at an age where I can accept homelessness as an option.

I remain open to receiving different evidence - it is my fondest wish, to love and be loved, to share unconditional trust, and remaining open to it is my deepest smile... security... confidence... and it keeps me happy open to anything :)

I don't know if any people trust unconditionally after early childhood.

I have my whole life.

I am not even sure anyone understands the concept, the experience, or the ramifications of doing it. If I was not working I might explore some courses on human behavior related to trust and relationships. Maybe someone taking that study seriously could converse about it. :)

It has so long time since someone genuinely wanted to know who I am, I have forgotten me in many ways. I've always been a chameleon because as I see life, we each choose who we want to be, what we want to want, how we go about living, and what we do. Few people stay conscious of that during the rush through daily life and most fall into habits, patterns of behaviors that eventually define their personality and who they are.

I've been in a semi-negative pattern for many years, maybe since I was dumped on the street by someone I unconditionally trusted in Toronto and found the same outcome in Orlando.

Maybe I've been waiting for someone to see me within the negative patterns and want me to come out again, but given no one has, maybe I will just do it myself again.

Self-analysis may be a waste of time if not put into practice :)

Ah, we come to that reality. It is kind of pointless (and even a little impossible, but I dream the impossible dream, remember?) to do it by one's self. That is why people are so compelled to find friends, partners, mates. When I am in my center, I see it so clearly I may appear too intellectual, logical, or even clinical for most people.

It has been a long time since someone simply wanted me around.

Luckily I learned to amuse myself and still do it better than anyone I've ever known :)

Words are one way I amuse myself. Writing. It's not always begging for attention or self-analysis or complaining or whining or philosophizing. I would love your opinion of this (that is what it became... this is where it began)... it was a time {and perspective} when I had much more hope for the world and much more visceral pain in my heart and I sought to keep hope alive by writing as I have always done... it's pretty mushy cuz it's kind of dedicated to love, true love) lol.

I've put hundreds of thousands of words online. Many different sides of my personality that seldom show in the physical world because no one is interested in who I am.

I hope you are focused on your goals. I will be here to help you in any way I can whenever I can. My goal with you is to help you be happy and secure and confident in every way. You can do it! :)

Trust me :)

So, do you wanna know me? :)

Thursday, June 22, 2017

How Did This Get Forgotten?

Well, it wasn't completely forgotten, just as Ri and many others friends and lovers have not been completely forgotten, but somehow a lot of time passed without an entry here.

Who noticed?

I am wide awake in so many ways, but still very much sleeping on some levels even though the ancient babbler recently did that babbling thing we used to love so well.

I have changed a lot over the years and I am finally coming to terms with it. I think the biggest change is I no longer see the cup of people (as in hope for humanity) as half full. I see it as a drain of our own creation as a species and we are rapidly (in epoch years) swirling down it. Mostly by our own hands. Maybe the new Star Trek series will rekindle some hope. Or something.

Anyway, this blog is about letters, arts, whatever it is we might call writing to others. Sometimes the words are an introductory letter to a complete stranger. Sometimes the words are a revealing bit of babble to a closest friend. I don't reach out as much as I used to (see previous paragraph) so there has not bee much to put here. Maybe. I have been babbling to a couple of the closest people in the world to me and look at the volume of letters and words and wonder why I don't put some here or even start a whole new book (blog, now) the way I used to. Perhaps this letter I came to share might explain.

She shared this page and I read it. Then, self-reflection happened and this is what came out:

I'm good on all except social. I can do better on physical, but in serious reality - how many people my age play softball as much as I do and keep a full time job of 50 hours a week and has all his own teeth and has only been the a doctors a few times in ten or more years and only for a check up or simple medicine I'd have bought over the counter if the medical industry was not so greedy? I can do better though, for sure. I'm gonna be under 200 pounds before I house-animal sit for you, I just decided, so there.

You see my venting so much more than the rest of me that even as close as we've been, sharing living space for many years, I don't really think you know me well. I appreciate you caring enough to be an outlet for my venting frustrations. :)

I know most people don't like me when they get close these days. I don't want to play the social games anymore. I don't want to help people as much as I used to. That's the me you've mostly known (maybe you see deeper and that's why you stay close). I am very different than I was twenty or more years ago. I don't have the hope for humanity and desire to help everyone I had back then.

So I don't hide my honesty, it shows in my face. I am alone because I push people away silently by reflecting in my expressions the dishonesty and insecurity they show me.

I don't think about doing it, I just do it.

You are a ray of sunshine in this world. Even though you think you have so many weaknesses and faults, you have a gift few people have. Partly because you are afraid to displease anyone, but also because you genuinely want to make this world a better place and help people who want help and you believe we can still change enough people to make it happen. That makes you a beautiful person even when you don't see it. That's why I chose to adopt you. That may feel like a burden on you sometimes, so I stay mostly out of your life.

Other people I know are so very negative and I limit my interactions with them, but that part of me that still cares keeps them around because they need me. I don't meet any positive people anymore because I am tired of everyone needing a lot more emotional help than I do.

So Social, that's were I am relatively empty. Even though I play cards with more than a dozen people every Saturday now and could be playing cards and games with a half dozen other people twice a week if I didn't live so far from them and I am still asked to play softball by four teams and asked to hang out after games eating at bars even though I am the only one who doesn't drink... and I still have lunch and dinner with a friend or few every weekend and could do it more often if I had the money. I have more social life than most people, but no close social connections that feed me. I am always the nurturer and helper.

Hey, you sent the link, I read the page, this is what you get lol :)

Someday my princess will come. :)

I make my own bed, I know that.

I mostly like my life and I still love me. The missing things in life are my choice and mostly physical (other than people who understand me and the one and that's because I don't want to do he work that pays enough to have those things. Maybe I'll buy a house in the ghetto and cut my expenses dramatically. Or more likely somewhere far from people where houses are about as cheap. :)

Thanks for keeping in touch. More than anything else (for you) I want you to be happy and successful in your relationships and your life. I will do anything I can to help whenever I can.

You remind me of who I used to be, especially your heart. :)

Call, text, write, visit, whatever you want whenever it feels right. Be silent and let time pass whenever that feels right. Whatever makes you happy - that's what I want most for and from you.

Thanks for the thinking material you've sent recently. I hope you've benefited from it too. I am playing that game you sent. I made it to frog last night and I downloaded the good words too. :)

And as you see, I read the page you sent. Good stuff inspires self-reflection and lots of babble. You know that by now lol. Thanks for continuing to take the risk lol :)

Take care of you. :)

Maybe not (explain, that is) lol.

Anyway, there you have a recent expose to one of the people who I care about most in this world. An adopted sister, an adopted child, adopted family. Just in case you wanted to know more about who I am inside (why else would you come to this blog, aye?).

There are more sides to an open mind and can be cut into the biggest diamond.

And the mind and all it contains is free.

Maybe you understand.

Thanks for reading.

Narf :)

Friday, May 6, 2016

This Blog World

This follows the previous entry here and comes from an email to the friend mentioned previously. It, through a series of edits and additions, seems to be becoming one of the more chronologically structured maps of the written gardens I've written in many years and while cursory in many spots, it could serve as one of the most detailed introductions to the online gardens I can offer at the moment, especially pertaining to the growth and expansion of the daily blogs.

As usual there will be the sudden asides, self-mockery, utter nonsense, and desperately seeking attention moments (which may well be a screening or pruning process as my friend posed for further pondering), but the bottom line path to the core of the child inside of me (who is me) might eventually show through the babble somewhere along the trail. I hope you enjoy your journey through this entry and if you find time and interest enough to click on links and explore further (it could take hundred of hours to read it all, maybe thousands, but who's counting, aye?), I hope you enjoy that even more (and will let me know). Make yourself comfortable, have refreshments on hand, and enjoy your journey. :)

I smile as ponder whether emailing increases my sense of loneliness or whether my increased sense of loneliness leads me back to email. Perhaps that is a reverse Catch-22, or 42, even, but either way, I enjoy emailing when I have time and feel motivated as much as I once enjoyed pen palling through snail mail. Communicating one on one with a human who responds is very different than communicating with the universe and anyone who may read my blogs.

Blogs may well be be a safety valve as well as a safe way to feel the illusion of sharing as, while no one else is required, there is also no risk of directly being ignored or rejected because the words are just put out there. That makes blogging very different than words sent directly to one person in an email communication that anticipate a direct response. Maybe blogs are a way of chickening out on direct one-on-one sharing a bit, but I do love writing so much and nobody's ever been able to keep up with the word flow, so blogs continue daily even when nobody's around to share words.

As eluded to above, back in the eighties and nineties I had hundreds of pen pals and published two magazines for people who wanted to communicate through words and I was still seeking more correspondence. Yes, so we've determined that blogs let me attempt to satisfy that addiction to writing when there are fewer or even no people around. That makes the whole process, all in all, a good thing. In case it matters. :)

As you may have noticed if you've been around for years or simply clicked on enough links, especially in the daily blogs, there are pivotal moments in life that trigger a new daily blog. I do maintain one primary daily blog and have since before the internet was invented. The progression online started with the, well (and that's where I started to inadvertently {and now a little more vertently} create the map this entry is posted to present... took a while, but then, always does around here... one of the charms, perhaps, for the word lovers among us... one of the valences, screens, mazes, prunings, ah, the secret is out, aye? lol... shhh, we'll get on with this entry now), lets see about putting it together here (for me as much as you and posterity... queue flashback music and visual effects in your mind as we travel back in time to the beginning of the online written gardens).

The online journals start with "Keep In Touch" or "KIT" (not the first web writing, that may come later as it is a different path back a little ways from this one). The babbler was fully in charge at the time so following along can be quite confusing but the journals split up into branches that compartmentalized "Lifetimes", "Worklife", "Hearbeats", and ultimately a daily journal. I believe the daily journal first entry online was this one (still not the first web page).

Key alternative introduction paths from those first ten years online include "The Bios", "Musical Journeys", and other blogs linked in the "Getting to Know Me" section of the most up to date index found here called "Blogs and other Strangers".

. . . . I see we are segueing into a sort of aside... the non-daily blog branches off the tree of madness (the self-mocking name I give the paths of the gardens from time to time)... the second attempt to actually introduce myself was this web page when all the rage was rambling on as if scrolling was the only way to read and write on the web (the first attempt may be lost... again, the babbler was fully loaded and my name online at the time was "Anonanonanon". That was actually my third online name. "Sharetruth" was first, "Childinside" was second... and before we digress any further, let's get back to the first digression, the introduction to the introductions and the attempted organization of the gardens, and then we will get back to the initial purpose for this writing, mapping the daily journal path).

The first entryway into my written gardens also the second attempt to introduce myself linked in the previous paragraph and it was eventually called the Front Door" after the other entry ways below were created. It and many of the pages of that time were deleted by ATT, though some still survive on the web thanks to the Internet Web Archive. That was my first continuous hello to the world online. The first page I ever wrote is linked somewhere in that mass of babbling. I think it's called the "Babbling Intro" and it should be linked somewhere on the long and winding Front Door page.

On another path of attempted organization, eventually, I created a "Main Gate" that had dreams of being the a mesmerizing portal that drew you back again and again as first page you'd see, but I never learned enough web code to make it anywhere close to mesmerizing. For a direct path into more personal pages I created a "Window" where friends were meant to climb in like friends do on many TV shows and in many movies. A bit later on, I created a "Back Door" where anyone wanting to know me could find out more about me in a closer, more personal babbling and rhyming way. That Back Door was updated when I moved to a paid for web host and as much of the gardens as I could salvage followed me there. Apologies as some links do not work there, but many thousands of pages can be found from the oldest to the newest if you care to follow the links.

Each of those entrances then branched off into collections of writings for different reasons and purposes. Most of these early branches were linked on the "Crossroads" page which was the primary main index until the current primary index (Blogs and other Strangers) was created out of the rubble of the ATT closure of free web pages.

There are 21 primary branches listed on the Crossroads and those branch off into an additional 45 sub-branches, each with dozens and in some cases hundreds of pages, though anything started after 2008 is only listed on the current primary index (Blogs and other Strangers) and none of those original primary or secondary branches include the journal branches which I was starting to try to follow and guide us through me, you, and posterity so maybe it's a good time to get back to that. The Hitchhikers Guide to the Writter Gardens, aye? :)

. . . . aside pausing to return to the daily journals. :)

The original daily journal was on my own home site provided by ATT. Eventually, I sought more interaction and audience and it bled into a few journals on more public sites. I moved to Live Journal, then Diaryland, then Blogspot. Several other sites, including Myspace, the Onion, and others offered blogs for a while and I expanded into those communities hoping for some attention, interaction, and ultimately the friend and "the one" with whom I dreamed of sharing everything and that was the original and still may be the bottom line reason I put my words online. Closest to the core.

So there was the first journal on my free home server and then the first step out of privacy was Candor at LiveJournal. This was accompanied by a darker journal called Mostly Dead (cuz that is often how I felt at the time) where I moaned and cried and let depression out because, at the time, life was quite depressing (and much more redundant than this current moment, which I may repeat again later). This was the lingering and somewhat permanent pain of the aftermath of the Toronto experience. This darker path of Mostly Dead continued after the move to Diaryland, though there it was mostly rhymes and rhymes are such sweet darkness, if you know what I mean.

Somehow reaching for some sort of optimism, hope, and happy happy joy joy I gave the dreamer (hopelessly hopeful romantic) who, while near death, a renewed reason to realize the dream (and I) was still very much alive and that love of life and longing for love came out in the next incarnation of a daily blog (which was mostly rhyming cuz the dreamer thinks in rhymes). This path continues, though not frequently, after the move to blogspot, here.

The rhyming was a wonderfully healing release but it was somewhat detached from a daily life journal, diary, or blog, so in an attempt to actually write prose daily diary entries and not just rhyme, I started "Behind the Candoor" which lasted a couple of years. The daily blogs were still dominated by the babbler which may have limited the audience (or so I told myself at the time when I'd get lonely and want someone to read me). Those blogs in those days did have some readers who left the occasional note and when I paid for them, comments too.

I am not sure, at least for the moment, if "Candoor" ever actually had a blog to get behind lol, but there is probably some clever connection to something somewhere in the name that I may recall in another session of trying to create a map of the written gardens. I know I was trying to share more of myself as I was healing inside. :)

Before I left Diaryland, a dozen other blogs started there for various reasons during that period and they still exist, though are seldom added to. The one I mention most often is "The Funda" because it was my first real attempt at brief blogging and it had a theme of sorts and participated in a blogathon or two. I was kinda proud of The Funda and feel it is both silly and profound at times.

The other Diaryland blogs, or diaries, are listed on the often mentioned current index called Blogs and other Strangers (and the layout of the lists of blogs and pages on this current index have their own madness I may explain another time, but not right now... thank me later lol):

The move to Blogspot, which was about 12 years ago at the time of this writing (yes, all that came before this line were at least 12 years old connections), was primarily to leave comments on Blogspot for dfriends who moved there from Diaryland and others I started reading there, but eventually I moved on from Diaryland because Diaryland charged $ and did not offer nearly the features Blogspot offered for free. So "Behind the Candoor" gave way to a new daily blog called "We have only just begun... in RealTime(TM)" commonly called "RealTime(TM)" for short when I refer to it. It lasted two more years. I believe it also came about because I changed positions at work and shifts/hours from night shift to day shift and was attempting a tad more seriousness and organization and brevity in order to attract more audience and find that friends and the one and so on. The brevity did not work.

Perhaps because I missed the irreverence of The Funda, I created "Bullsugar" at Blogspot and had fun pretending to be profound while being quite silly for a while. Again, this was a supplimental blog. Over the course of the next ten years more than a hundred other supplemental blogs were started at Blogspot and almost all are still added to sooner or later. Some babble, some rhyme, some are quite brief. Each one having it's own unique theme and style, mostly. :)

Back to the daily blogs, after a couple of years "RealTime(TM)" gave way to the longest running continuous daily blog, "(e)thereal" which was again a reaction to major changes in life, in this case moving and changing living space people (living alone the first year then having Jackson move in the rest of the eight years that particular blog flowed. As I mentioned (or started to) somewhere, daily blogs usually move from one to another when I moved, changed jobs, changed roommates, or when I really want to try a different style of writing and this time all of the above were factors as wanted to make a real effort to blog in brief entries. The babbler was given many other (as I said, what is now more than a hundred) blogs at Blogspot to satisfy the addiction to babbling and "(e)thereal" almost succeeded in brief entry blogging for the longest of any blogs, 8 years and almost 7,000 entries. I still visit when I come to the blog world for some ritualistic purpose or something. Never give up, never surrender, the dream goes on. It is probably the biggest test for anyone who wants to be truly close to me because it is so many entries and spans such a long time frame. "The one" has her work cut out for her lol. :)

The second titled section in the current index "Blogs and other Strangers" called "possible future dailies and undefined blogs just scratching the surface (sprouts)" lists the additional supplimentsstarted and used during the "(e)thereal" blog period as the (e)thereal blog was slowly winding down to it's relative end (nothing ever really ends in the written gardens, at least not while I can still tap a few keys and upload something). Each blog has a purpose that we'll save for another time cuz I do know how to show a little mercy lol :)

As is the almost inevitibly eventual eventuality for any daily life blog, (e)thereal finally gave way to the latest current daily blog just two months ago (at this writing), on leap day in fact, when a new format consisting of two separate blogs (plus a supplemental third blog) became the current daily blog (set). For the first time, these blogs actually have explanatory pages like "About this Blog" pages and more, for what they are worth, in an attempt to introduce the blogs, me, and anyone mentioned in the blogs.

The first of the current blog set is a intended to be a brief synopsis of each day and called "In Case It Matters" and it is the basic "just the facts" report of the day most of the time. The second part of the two part daily blog set is where the babbler can expound as much as he wishes (or as much as time permits that day or night) as he dives into whatever may be going on and it is called "Dirt, Drama, and Details" because it is the dirt, drama, and details of the daily life. And finally, for the moment, the supplemental blog which is not daily, but still connected to the daily in various ways, some yet to be determined, is called paragraphs and closes this tour of the daily blog branches. Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends and feel free to step inside. We dont bote. Much.

Of course I must include one more link just because my head might explode if I didn't and that is to a single page blog (so far) that kind of says - let me be - to anyone who would think I might be a bit disturbed or in any sort of distress (or actually succumbing to madness in some unhealthy way).

On this note, I will conclude this ridiculously self-indulgent tour of my written gardens (focusing primarily on the daily blogs with some expansion into supplemental blogs and the early pages and introductions scattered through) and now return you to your regular correspondence (which I will kindly start in another email. :)

Sooner or later I will publish this tour in a blog somewhere (wow, I'm prophetic, aye?) and I thank you, J, for the inspiration to take this walk these gardens with you and put this map guide thing together. I share this in the hope that you (and anyone) can better choose the place in my written gardens you would like to visit whenever you do. This provides a tapestry of how some of the gardens formed. The pruning, as you call it, and how I got to where I am today (with a little why thrown in cuz you care). :)

Are we having fun yet? lol lam :)

Hope it wasn't too painful.

honest love,

Yes, well... so therein exhibits some of the risks (letters, even before emails, would sometimes pause at a hundred pages and there have been sitings of single letters that went on for as many as five or six hundred pages.... books, no down, and long ones at that) of engaging in an email correspondence with me. No wonder I don't do it too often. Back in the day, the many hundreds of pen pals slowly became just dozens and of those dozens maybe a dozen hung in and kept up with the babbler (and fewere still actually followed all the long and winding roads woven through the words. A few reached the level of accepting exchanges where they'd receive hundreds of pages. It was an amazing marathon of words at times.

Perhaps the title of this blog finally makes sense. Or not, everything is relative, after all. :)

Friday, April 29, 2016

For Those Who Understand

Yes, life is a roller coaster of emotion and the last six months have certaily been a wild ride. Major endings and new beginnings marked the major changes that have come and gone. A few of those changes involved major disappointments in myself and others. This entry is a letter to an old friend (with some modifications) and touches upon some of those changes. It also reflects on the nature of relationships and especially why so few relationships really bring the satisfaction people seek.

I started out by sharing the changes in the daily blogging I do as we met through blogging. In our exchanges, we discussed highs and lows and how they affect us. What picks us up, what brings us down, and what turns us around. Writing to old friends opens me up to reflection and that usually helps resolve anything unresolved inside. Especially when catching up after some time has passed. This time I was reminded of things that should help me continue to grow and fly ever higher if I just remember them. As usual, there is information that might not be pretty and I mean no offense to anyone. I wish no hurt for the people I mention because I love them dearly. I share this not as a vent, but as a way for you to know me better. That is what this blog is about, sharing communications with others that express or summarize my experiences and philosophies so anyone who might be a friend can know me better. I hope it works for us. :)

It is bound to happen for me. I almost always journey on some paths through the past whenever I reconnect with you or anyone who cares and has been out of the daily contact for a while. I dive right in and see where the muses and music and links and words take me. First, blogging. The present is now a two-part (harmony?) blog set of daily life brevity in in case it matters and daily life focused babbling in dirt, drama, and details with the occasional addition of whatever in paragraphs tossed in for whyever, sometimes maybe for no apparent reason (and two other blogs are actually called "for no apparent reason" don'tcha know lol. I actually created "pages" for those new blogs (like "About this Blog", "About the Writer", "About the People" and so on) explaining what they are supposed to be about, introducing me, and introducing the people I mention. I linked those on the right side or top of each blog. That is new for me and it is a merging of conformity to accepted practices of twenty years ago and rebellion as that practice is not used so much today. That perspective amuses me. :)

They are the first blogs listed in the blog table of contents called blogs and other strangers that is the one link/starting point to save for posterity as even the old archived written gardens link and pages are linked there.

Anyway, as I rearrange the pieces of the puzzle of my past I smile at the heartaches and re-live the laughs (that is an old Harry Chapin lyric deeply part of my psyche, perspective, and way of being), it brings me back to now in a way that settles any qualms or concerns I might have about the Eagles lyric that is also a core part of me, never thought I'd be alone, this far down the line... if I could only stop my mind, from wondering what I left behind and worrying 'bout it's wasted time. The conclusion of the song is what I come back to in my own way as I accept changes - now you can get on with your life baby, and I can get on with mine and maybe someday we will find... that it wasn't really wasted time. Hope, always hope.

I am in a good place (I believe that is reflected in the words in the mini-explosion of babbling in my last few daily blog entries and other places) after a few weeks (or longer) of rearranging the pieces of the puzzle of the past near and far and digesting the recent changes and challenges and returning to the present intact once again. There is still more to go and come as the classic epic closure rhymes have yet to flow, but the process I use to survive and maintain sanity and positivity is wonderfully intact which always surprises me just a little as I see rainbows through my tears once again :)

Even without the stolen child (Waterboy's reference to music left in Toronto).

I gave myself a hair cut this week (we'll just nod at the sudden seque because we understand). Wednesday night just before leaving for softball I picked up the scissor. Impulsive. Didn't even have the right scissors and didn't wash the hair to straighten it, just got tired of the mop coming into my eyes so snip snip snip (definitely need sharper scissors) and the hair is shorter. The back is not shorter though. Curly said he couldn't tell I did it myself so maybe that is a good sign lol.

I love the way you phrased your first paragraph. Not just cuz it started out with positive stuff about me (thank you), but much more because I relate so much to the perspective you shared. It is me. The positive perspective of creativity. The lingering weight of loss (with the concluding positive perspective, the smile of the flower). As well as we get along in words, I think we'd really get along well as neighbors and offline friends too :)

In recent months, For the first time in a very long time, I experienced some of what you describe in your second paragraph. The past haunting in dreams and the future haunting the awake, conciously and subconsciously. I so seldom remember dreams in this life and rarely experience restlessness or un-rested sleep, but in the past few months I have. The three themes that seem to bring disturbance are work, Jackson, and money. The pretty much intentional failure at work (yes, I've come to terms with that reality. I basically stretched myself too thin with softball and giving Jackson time and other stuff and did not give 100 hours a week to the job and that is what it needed. I realized that I don't want that much time to go to a job anymore at this stage of life so I must compromise and look for something that is just a 40 hour week even though it'll pay a lot less). Then there is the sadness about Jackson so completely moving on with her life just when I needed a friend most. After helping her with money for so many years (and her constantly calling me her BFF), I was hoping she'd follow through on her stated intention to pay me back a little each month. Instead she bought a new car and has over $400 a month payment and is taking trips and living well because her partner is not charging rent so she has a lot of extra money to spend. Alas, she avoided a lot and still does. Then there is the financial reality and job search, both subjects I am avoiding as much as possible because I want to enjoy the time away from work. That trio of thought streams sometimes disturb my sleep with unsettling dreams and I don't sleep as well or feel as rested as I usually do. The good news is that it is getting better every week and got a lot better this week, I think :)

My waking hours are often very busy with fun with friends or fun writing/reading distractions, though the sadness of the trio of weights can roll over me like a black cloud and rain so hard if I let myself sit home alone doing nothing too long (so I do my best not to do that even when the body begs for rest). All in all, that's the worst of it and this week it feels like the worst of it is no longer the norm, but rather an offshore storm starting to diminish in strength or oil rig no longer gushing, but bleeding slightly and getting under control. The infection, so to speak, is healing. :)

Yes, that paradox is very much a huge part of the story of my life on and offline. I think it is because people are afraid to really share themselves. The walls do not come down. I think almost every human relationship, even ones that seem to work, can be summed up with the question in the Carly Simon song Do The Walls Come Down. Whether the word "fire" is left to reflect passion or romance or substituted for "friend" or "BFF" or brother/sister or any relationship, I think the singular obstacle to satisfaction for just about everyone is fear of letting the walls down completely to actualize unconditional trust and until unconditional trust is truly actualized, there is incomplete satisfaction because there is always that feeling that something is missing, something is hidden, something is not shared.

Online or off, that fear of sharing everything seems to be, to me at least, the reason for the paradox of the quest for sharing online that so often brings only silence.

I find pleasure, very often giggling glee, in simply hopping into bed or eating what I want to eat or taking a hot shower or sleeping in or in so many simple solitary daily activities. I must add some form of serious exercise to my daily routine as I once felt so much pleasure in getting my heart rate up to 160 and feeling my muscles come alive. I picked up Precious yesterday to take her to the ATT store to exchange her phone (why the code I set up didn't work is a mystery) and she is living in the apartment community I moved into when I moved back to Florida in 2000, in fact, she is across the hall from that first apartment. The memories came flooding back as I was so much more fit there, running and getting to the gym almost daily and playing tennis and racketball and other activities regularly. I feel so foolish letting laziness and apathy dominate my daily decisions about exercising more. Yes, there is softball, but I used to find such bliss in so much more vigorous exercise. Perhaps writing this will reinforce the feeling I had yesterday and get me going again. Always hope, yes, but I need more, I need to do it.

Thank you for the inspiration to write this. Some things apparently wanted to be shared and they were spurred on by your insights and ponderings combined with responding to your words. I started this when I woke after noon and then Curly came by and I went shopping with him and had lunch, then returned to writing this. It is now time to change clothes and head out for softball. I hope this added something good to your day :)

honest love,

Friday, April 8, 2016

You Say It's Your What?

So much bravado and calm casual acceptance of the independence I achived so early on in this life and still enjoy immensely today does not completely eliminate the hunger for attention and the desire to mean something to someone and other people in this life and so the excitement and relief and pleasure of finding the simply Happy Birthday wish in my former daily blog was enough to have me gushing (and catching up). This reflect more accurately than daily babbles the current state of affairs within me and my psyche (stumbling down the avenue) if you know what I mean. Naturally a bit of me is revealed in the catching up with an old friend. See for yourself:

Thank you thank you thank you so much there are not enough thank yous in the world to thank you enough :)

'Tis a time of much glee and challenges for me as the freedom from the working world brings both the pleasures of relaxation and the stress of no income. I am currently recovering from a sugar hangover and hoping to survive as I laugh at myself above an underlying reprimand reminding me to take better care of this body (recovery time is much longer than it used to be :)

Jackson finally fell in love well enough to move in with her new partner and so nI am alone (really bad timing for me financially and emotionally, but she is so happy in love and I really think it's working this time and that is wonderful so I am happy everywhere outside of the little selfish kid who only thinks about himself (the rest of me tolerates him because he does keep the rest of me happy by letting me know what I really want if you know what I mean... most people lose touch with that self-awareness to be kind to others and many are not happy because that is losing touch with themselves and they forget who they are so all is still well inside :)

As you may have noticed I finally almost completely officially closed this blog after almost eight years of almost daily mini-babbles and while nothing in the babbling written gardens is actually over (cuz there's always hope as you well know) until I am over in this life, I have been putting mostly daily energy into a two-part set of daily blogs huh? for the past month or more. It almost happened back in 2012 or 13 when I also had too much time on my hands and the four blogs that began then as a kind of four headed blog monster are still slowly finding their voices, but it appears to actually be happening now.

I can see this comment becoming an entry with the links to the blogs mentioned filled in so thank you for this and that and the other thing too :)

Life is busy every evening and twice on weekends, but the void during the weekday day time hours still needs to be filled with an income producing activity (and not just helping Curly get his work done, though helping Curly is helping me and good for both of us... he gave me a free place to stay saving rent expenses and I do manual labor with him as he manages thirty properties right down to fixing everything and lawn care... the body is wondering what is happening and I laugh as exercise is still a good thing as long as I can do it). Monday, Wednesday, Friday evenings and Saturday and Sunday are softball times. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday evenings are cards and games times. The life is full of people and fun.

Now if I can just find income and the one (or a new cool roommate best friend), it will be near perfect again. :)

Catch up on life? Email (candoor @ gmail . com) or here or wherever is fine. If I had the money I'd travel and get my stuff still lost in New York and visit and catch up in person, but alas, not happening. Tell me the upsa dn downs and turn arounds going on in your world please :)

Time for me to wake up, shower, and head out to play Bridge. Am I old yet? lam lol ... take care and please keep in touch :)