Monday, November 13, 2017

Autobiofocal?

Other than a play on words merging autobiographical with bifocal, I have no explanation to offer for the title which might mean it's profundity is beyond comprehension for the moment or the rash on my belt line means more than it could ever mean, whatever it is. The sun is also rising, which means, because it is a Monday and not a holiday, that I must prepare for a work day. Before I head out the door to join the madness humans call life, I shall share a bit of my correspondence with J (along with the usual parenthetic asides, explanatory notes, background information (and music}, assorted sundries and other additives designed to amuse {really, not meaning to confuse} and entertain and otherwise encourage you to know me, always hoping you might actually want to, ya know?) simply because I want you, someone somewhere out there, to somehow understand who I am and maybe, just maybe, want to be my friend. I apologize to J if this in any way does not feel good or right, but I want to share everything with someone and until I find my own personal precious individual someone, I offer everything to everyone. How else will she find me?

I woke after laying down to sleep shortly after dinner and found the urge to write mixing with the frustration of not having alternative writing positions that are required for comfort and health in this body because this body is rebelling against sitting too much in some very awkward and uncomfortable (and occasionally itchy and painful, I'll leave it at that for this blog but you can find the gory details elsewhere if you are that curious... or morbid)... so I reached for the mini-laptop and attempted to type laying on my side. This proved even more frustrating due to the typing happening far slower than the mind was pouring words into the fingers so I shifted to a prone position with three pillows propping up the upper body and that was better, reminiscent of ow I used to write as a teenager, until the lower back said enough and I concluded the letter.

Let's see what was revealed, for what it's worth...

ok, so i try another new way to write... maybe i need more pillows... maybe i should try to find a voice to text system that works for me... this room stinks... i laugh...

Sitting too much has created some body dysfunctions so if I am to continue writing as I must for my happiness and clarity and positivity and sanity (among other kind of important things for maintaining life in this body), I must come up with alternatives... I am finally facing just how much I miss a recliner, a couch, and a bed (I have an air mattress and a fairly comfortable desk chair for now, but a recliner offers the most comfortable writing position and a couch offers an alternative sleeping position necessary for body comforts and health at some points along the way). This may be the longest I've gone without all three in this journey through this life and the physical discomforts are finally taking their toll on this rapidly (time is relative) aging body.

Returning to the teenage experience, living in the parental apartment, sleeping on a two inch thick foam cushion that was the bed on old convertible couch, Writing in a prone position, pillows propping up my upper body and head...

Increasing font size to huge might help at this angle of view (ah, the darkness and the eyes don't always get along)...

So many thoughts... obstacles... solutions... possibilities...

there was a time when everything fit
and i was simply a part of it
life's experiences I recall
loving it all

and star dust, we are... I really am still loving it all...

so where were we?... what was my point?... what was I trying to say?... maybe I need another joint...

I feel. I feel so much it hurts. I care. I care so much it hurts. I want. I want so much it hurts. Most of all I want to give I want to share. I can't get what I want because I am alone here.

I have six (or is that seven?... who's counting?) unanswered texts in my phone from people in this town. I fell asleep after dinner, before most arrived, so I did not respond yet and I do not want to risk disturbing them at this middle-of-the-night hour. I do not have anyone to call or text in the middle of the night. So I find my way back to a semi-comfortable position laying down... so I can write.

Jackson sent a text yesterday morning telling me to come say hi if i am at the fields... I was not at the fields. She can see the schedule and knows when I play if she wanted to say hi or even stay and watch my game. We used to watch each others games all the time after we stopped playing on the same teams when we lived together. We used to play on the same teams even before we lived together. She stopped sharing softball some time back after she fell in love. Probably my fault,at least in part. My competitive spirit increased her anxiety. I sort of stopped chasing after her this season. I suppose she misses the attention and support. Some time last week or so may have finally crossed the letting go line to the point where it actually happened (the letting go). Maybe she senses that as I did not send a smiley face back to the last time she sent one because I did not have my phone with me at the time at work. It was a busy week. So yes, I was at work and didn't see it, but when I did, I did not feel it. That urge to immediately respond in case her feelings might be hurt if I didn't or in case she really needed me and did not know how to say so. She sucks at asking anyone for help, always has. Hopefully she's fine. I may text her back tomorrow. Life goes on.

Helen texted yesterday to tell me that she made reservations for Thanksgiving at a local hotel buffet. The Rosen Center. $70 or more with tax and tip and parking and whatever, at least. Probably $10 in gas just getting there. Good food, mostly American and not my favorite, but good... fancy place. We've gone there more than a few times for Thanksgiving over the last 17 years. I may go with her this year. She's an independent person who enjoys going on vacations alone and doing things by herself. Admirable, in my mind. The unanswered text that came after I fell asleep was to let me know she was going to a "Festival of Trees" next Saturday afternoon. I may have softball, I'll have to check the schedule.

Jane's unanswered text is a response to my texting to ask 'how are you?' yesterday. She's good. Tired from being too busy. She's my most active friend, a runner and cyclist and very social and almost always dating or in a relationship. I love her, but too much dating for me to want to get in that mix with her, though she's one of the few friends who holds some qualities that are physically attractive to me. Over the years, more than ten now I think, I am likely better off and happier staying platonic with her.

A guy from my Sunday softball league stopped by at the fields today to let me know about a storm drain issue. I gave him my work email and told him to send me the video he took of it. He texted to see if I got it.

The Monday softball team manager texted to let me know the game is at 7:30 tomorrow, which is today now. Group text. Responses popped up throughout the night and started up again before 5:00 am.

The Tuesday softball team manager texted to let me know the game is at 8:30 Tuesday. He always told me that at the fields.

Google texted me to upgrade Gmail on the phone.

D... I don't know if I have a blog name for D. I think I do, but for now, D. D texted to invite me to see 'Love Never Dies' because I clicked 'interested' when I wen on Facebook over the weekend to check on an invitation Tinman told me about. I will go if it fits into the schedule. D is a friend from the game groups on meetup that I used to attend regularly for several years... from about 2006 through 2010 and less after that after Jackson moved in and I got more into softball, work, and doing things with her. D is one of the group who still gets together regularly to socialize beyond gaming from those game groups. She actually is the game group organizer now. Fun, intelligent, and a good heart.

I suppose I took the opportunity to introduce some people (or catch up) by reviewing my texts waiting for response. If it wasn't the middle of the night, I'd have just responded and probably not have babbled on here, but the thought process happened and was written down. That's how the brain and this writing life works, in case you haven't been reading or paying attention. Sharing everything, remember?

So with all that in the phone on a Sunday evening, why am I feeling so alone?

First, because I am alone. No one to talk to, no one to phone. Just like the first time I wrote those words in one of the first 'poems' I ever wrote in this life about a half a century ago. Then, there the awareness that none of the people I know in this life are the right best friend for me. No really close friend, no softball partner, no running or exercise partner, no hanging out anytime --- friend. No one I really feel like getting closer to or trusting unconditionally. Though Jane or D could possibly be roommates if they lived closer to where I work and wanted to be. Jane probably would. Unfortunately she lives almost an hour away and loves where she lives. I love where she lives too, but I work an hour away. Sometimes life is like that.

Naturally I have some hesitation trusting anyone unconditionally as I am healing from Jackson's lies and betrayal (and the many before her), but I still think I can try again. Just need the right candidate in the physical space.

Thank you for being here in words. I hope you too feel the good feeling of knowing I am here for you too. You help so much. Knowing I can write these words, sort out what is in my head, share the simple details of life and those in life here, assess what I want, lament what is missing, and continue to believe there are people who understand and who can actualize unconditional love because you and I do (proof it exists and can be done). Thank you.

I drifted away this week. I suppose I needed some alone time and that probably had something to do with letting go and readjusting to the aloneness that is this life. Giving up the illusion of having a best friend or family is never an easy thing to do. It is necessary though. There's a song that says it well... let's see if I can find it.


Of course it is more of a broken heart love song, but I can't think of a "lost my best friend' song and the words are close to the same so it works. "it's hard to find a new dream... with an old one in your eyes."

I can see clearly now... the rain is gone.

Ok, so that is not my song. The rain is never gone, thank goodness, for the flowers would die and there's be no rainbows if the rain was really gone. My song says something like...

Some people let memories fade away
But I hold on to my yesterday
Foundations I can build upon
The best lessons are never gone

The fullest peace and happiness
stays with me over the years
is as simple as it appears
I've learned to empower love over fears
so I can see rainbows through my tears

Or something like that :)

i miss my recliner... i laid prone propped up on pillows while i wrote the words above but the lower back finally said too much compression to i rolled on to my side and now type with one hand, one finger, actually, as i hold the little laptop up sideways with the other and... it makes for slow somewhat choppy typing which makes for much lower and somewhat choppier thinking... and a whole lotta typos... too man for amusement...

i fixed more than a dozen typos in the last paragraph and the stream of consciousness is gone...

there was so much more...

but i must stop sitting as much as i do...

and on a related point, i must also stop eating as much as i do...

but not writing... i must not stop writing... in fact, i must find a way to write more...

for now though, I thank you for being there..

Take care of you... I am here...

honest love,
ric

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