Love is Brilliant

So for a change, I am going to leave the letter that inspired this one in this one because they inspiration comes from a guy who has been published and public for as long as I've been alive, at least, and if his estate wants a portion of the royalties from this blog, well, as soon as I make a dime I'll give him at least a quarter. We can negotiate better terms (for me), after that.

It was a long time ago that I first fell in love with this man. And the bonding continues.

Ah, Ashleigh, you are a pretty amazing fellow. I would have liked to know you better than through your pot shot cards, but through them, I've relatively known you for more than fifty years. I don't get to email much these days, in fact, this is the first email I've written this year. Long before the internet, long before home computers, I wrote (babbled, actually) every day, in journals (blogs), letters, and all sort of odds and ends, but these days I live (much work, some play) life much more than I write. It's a very strange experience, to live without daily writing.

I decided I would let you know I have enjoyed your words since my hippie days in New York. Living on 4th street, positively, I would hand pot shot cards to passing stranger now and then. Naturally some of my babbling was on the back, but matching the card to the right person was a fun game for me. Often I received a smile and sometimes a conversation, occasionally would find a friend who stuck around a while. I still have a box filled with hundreds of pot shot cards from those days, though it's been in a storage locker along with hundreds of other boxes of words and stuff in upstate New York for more than twenty years. One day I hope to amaze myself with a journey through those boxes. I shall, if I live long enough to retire with enough money to bring the stuff to wherever I am. Poverty has chase away my riches more than once in this lifetime. I've never had much interest in money, but what it can bring does seem to be missed when it is gone.

Memories are free, however mementos can be quite expensive.

I meandered along this path just to say hello and wish I could support your writing more than I do, but perhaps knowing that your words have been appreciated for all these years and they still are, is worth a smile or two for you. Smiles are so valuable, it amazes me that they are still free.

Take care of yourself and keep sharing your wonder, your life, and your life. You've made the world a better place :)

hl,
ric


On Fri, Apr 26, 2019 at 5:43 PM wrote: Bonding

Dear Friends,

On May 24, it will be a year since Dorothy, my wife and partner for 51 years, passed away, after a long sad decline due to Parkinson’s.

Much of the time since then I have spent going through all the things Dorothy left behind. She was a passionate traveler and a terrible hoarder, and she practically never threw anything away. She had an incredible variety of enthusiasms, and there were many that I simply could not share. I won’t even attempt to list them here – but one of them was James Bond. She would never miss a Bond movie, no matter how many times it was shown on TV

I had already thrown away her large collection James Bond videotapes, (now, of course, technologically obsolete) and was about to put in the box of giveaways a book I came across this morning, a large glossy volume published in 1981, called “The James Bond Films.” But then I looked inside the cover, and realized that this was something too special to part with. It was a birthday present I had given her in 1982, which I had completely forgotten about.

Here is what I had written:

Ever since my first arrival

In your life, from out beyond,

It’s been clear I have a rival –

Someone by the name of Bond.



How I’ve cursed him

As you’ve nursed him,

Ogled him from crown to belly –

How I’ve damned him,

Could have rammed him –

But I might have hurt the telly.



To my darling Dorothy

from Ash

December 8, 1982,

In token of

the Bond between us.

----------------------------------------------------------------
Attached are 2 more of my articles from the Montecito Journal.

All the best,

Ashleigh Brilliant

PS In case you’ve been wondering, my tenth book of Brilliant Thoughts, “I Need More Time – And I Probably Always Will” is still in the works.
------------------------------------------------------------------
ASHLEIGH BRILLIANT, 117 W. Valerio St. Santa Barbara CA 93101 USA. Phone (805) 682-0531 Creator of POT-SHOTS, syndicated author of I MAY NOT BE TOTALLY PERFECT, BUT PARTS OF ME ARE EXCELLENT. 10,000 copyrighted BRILLIANT THOUGHTS available as cards, books etc. World's highest-paid writer (per word).

Most-quoted author (per Reader's Digest.) Free daily Pot-Shot

cartoon: www.ashleighbrilliant.com CATALOGS:[handling and mail included]. Starter $5.. Electronic Text-Only (emailed $25, on CD $30). Electronic Illustrated Catalog/Database (CD only) $105 (includes shipping anywhere). Details: www.ashleighbrilliant.com/IllustratedCatalog.html

Go buy something from the man, you'll be amazed at how words can change your life :)

Cuz It's About Me Too

Yeah, so a lot of letters to friends were channeled elsewhere in a blog specifically for one very special friend (go fish lol... oh, laugh.. maybe I'll link it later... you could always ask if it matters to you, right?) and I've sort of neglected this blog, so here's one that crosses blog borders. Within the letter to the very special friend (who has a blog space elsewhere) is a letter to a stranger (yet another bog, aye) which refers to a profile (yet another blog, ya see?) which... we'll, you can ask if if it matters to you, m'ok?) lol. We could be having so much fun if you were playing along. Or here even.

What are we up to, a dozen? Probably a few dozen if we go back ten years to when we first because roommies and best friends. Anyway, I will keep keeping in touch with the parts of you that you hide away cuz somebody's gotta do it (and besides, I loves ya and want what is best for you, but you oughta know that by now. :)

Are you writing?

I know you tell yourself you should journal whenever your deeper stuff comes closer to the surface and threatens your happiness, but then you forget and hope the deeper stuff never surfaces again once it settles down.

Until you trust yourself enough to trust your partner to be your closest confident who hears everything without restriction, you really ought to write. So this is a reminder. The words might bite, but they don't leave marks.

Not writing does.

Oooo, heavy huh?

Yeah, cuz not writing allows hiding, repression, suppression, and all the thinking errors that comes from that. The therapist knows. That's you, by the way :)

So here's a reminder, ok? Write.

And here's a distraction, right on time...

Someone from the roommate site wrote to me. A guy, 44 y/o working for the state and living with his mom in Deltona because he can't afford his own place. Seems to be a common theme in our world today. Anyway, this was my response (let me know what you think - don't sugar coat it lol :P :)


Hi D,

I've been renting a room from a nice guy in the ghetto area of downtown Sanford for over a year. I told him it would be for a month or two at the most lol. It is a five minute walk to my desk, but the occasional shootings in the area make it less than a pleasant idea. The space is too small, so I am paying for storage, and there are other reasons I want to share another space, but that's a discussion for another time if we decide we will be friends. My last roommate before this guy is one of my best friends and we are still closer than most brothers and sisters. I don't expect a roommate to be a best friend or family, but I am a caring person and when living in the same space with someone, friendships can happen. If you are a very private person who is not into making a new friend, that's fine too as long as we agree to polite sharing of space with compromises and boundaries we both can live with. I am flexible and do my best to see the positive and make the best of every situation. :)

Being so close to work is not the only reason I've been dragging my feet about moving out of here. I am seriously considering buying a house. I would not be able to afford anything more that a needy fixer upper unless I had income from renting a room or garage apartment or something and I am not sure I want to depend on that uncertain income with the risk of losing the house if I lose the extra rent. Still, I've been telling myself that if the right roommate came along, I'd definitely want to be out of here into a better place. Here I share a bathroom, don't use the kitchen or living room, don't have my bed or TV or comforts. It's just a place to sleep (and not a clean space outside of my room).

So where do we go from here? :)

Who are you? lol. You may be asking the same questions about me, so... I spend 50+ hours a week working for the County as the "County Safety Officer" and spend my free time playing softball, writing journals to myself, listening to music or TV, reading (mostly on the web rather than offline these days), and socializing with friends. I enjoy time home at the computer, especially while I am economizing as I am doing these days. My previous jobs paid about twice what I make working for the County, but I enjoy the job and will stay with it unless a dramatically better opportunity comes up. You can peek into my world on Facebook by looking up Bugs Webbot. I created the account some twelve years ago when "monikers" were the way to go and the name stuck. I am not there much, but friends post to the page now and then. I really don't like Facebook, but I secretly love it when they do (shhhh lol).

My profile summarizes what I want in a place and roommate, so ask me whatever you'd like to now. I believe in honesty and doing no harm. I try to live up to that ideal. I avoid the news and drama as much as possible, preferring to enjoy the moments of life in my immediate environment with those who care to share time and space and activities with me. I also enjoy being alone, in fact, I require alone-time and can find it anywhere inside my head (and by doing solitary activities).

There's also a part of me who longs to be in love again and I can smile at that with all the trauma of typical heartbreak songs (and laugh at the futility of life, love, and everything. Douglas Adams, Stephen King, Richard Bach, Robert Heinlein, and Dr. Seuss all speak to me. As do Harry Chapin, Jackson Browne, Bernie Taupin (Elton John), Billy Joel, Melissa Etheridge, Dan Fogelberg, Tim Rice (Andrew Lloyd Webber), and a whole lot of other pop-culture wordsmiths as well. I can cry at romantic comedies and laugh at horror films.

Maybe I've not pushed to move out of here because I am waiting to find the love of my life. lol lam.

I have an irreverent sense of humor and a different perspective of most things than most people. I mean no offense and to avoid misunderstanding and arguments, I often nod and keep my opinions to myself, unless I trust the person in the conversation. I trust way too easily, but trust no one on some levels. I do not want to stop believing in the goodness of nature and the human heart in spite of the evidence to the contrary.

That's not always easy :)

If I've already shared way too much, just say so. I respect boundaries and different opinions, even those I believe to be wrong or harmful. I just do my best to avoid the harmful and ignore the wrong.

That's not always easy either. :)

Hopefully you are smiling at my attempt to introduce myself. After all, if we are to take sharing living space and expenses seriously, we should find some basic understanding of each other and trust we will care about each other and the stuff we keep in our living space. I don't have much stuff for a living room, most of my stuff is kitchen or bedroom or clothing stuff. I will want to buy a recliner and we can talk about anything else we want to put into the apartment or house if we decide we are compatible roommates.

So... your turn? :)

Call if it's easier. I tend to ramble on when I write (you'd never have noticed, right?). I also tend to mock myself a lot. lol and lam (laughing at myself). My writing is a form of therapy and is mostly to myself, but there was a time I had many correspondents (pen pals) and even published small magazines for writers and pen pals. A lot of my babbling (as I call it) ends up on the web in obscure "blogs" and I don't think it's a desperate attempt to find fame and fortune, but I'd certainly accept the fortune if it came my way. :)

Hopefully all these words have not ended the beginning of a beautiful friendship (so I'm not Bogart, but I can hum a few bars :)

Hope to hear from you and find some time to get together and explore what we want in a roommate and where we might find a place we both like. We don't have to sing the "getting to know you" song. :)

I don't proofread so hopefully any typos amuse rather than confuse. Tell me about you?

Make it a great week.

Ric
407-325-1482

So, E...... who else knows me well enough to tell me the truth, after all?

Make it a good day, let me know how you are (notes done? Yahoo? Kids? Relationship? Most important of all, you?). And make time for yourself. Write!

Cuz I really do care, ya know? :)

The Only Limit is Death

I may still head out to some 24 hour store to get more chocolate milk and some other ridiculously inappropriate and irresponsible snacks even though I have some and it's after midnight and I have work tomorrow and I just spent 12 hours in the car snacking and eating junk food on a drive back from Nashville after two days of softball and more food after a 14 hour drive up to Nashville on Friday, just because I can. Doctors would caution against it, but like that guy in City of Angels who ate that huge pastrami sandwich right after a heart attack, I'll enjoy life until there is no more life to enjoy.

I'll return to a healthier mindset and behavior tomorrow.

This sets the scene for the next letter, inspired by all the kind and well-meaning people I've known who've suggested that I will find someone (as in a life partner) when I am ready if I'll just compromise and have more realistic expectations and conform to common sense and our culture more.

Alas, nobody has ever really known me very well (as Bugs would say, paraphrased).

See, this is Real
(the reason for my loneliness)

I get the bug in my head to drive to Nashville at the last minute because I had to be back at 1PM Monday to do orientation at work and I did not want to disappoint the boss and it would cost $500 extra dollars for an early Monday flight... to spend two days playing ball in the summer sun and heat and who's gonna do that with me?

Seriously?

Both road trips were off the beaten path, lost for a little while thanks to faulty GPS tech (which to me is fun... the getting lost part, not the faulty tech), and who's gonna enjoy that? More than 24 hours on the road, mostly in the car. And now I get back after all the adventures, good and bad, and all I want to do is stay up all night playing and sharing and doing whatever and who's gonna want to do that with work in the morning?

So I know the answer... I just need to meet more people, maybe lower my standards, compromise, and not be so impulsive and irresponsible and unpredictable and off the beaten path and, ultimately, conform more... but is anybody gonna compromise back and share an impulsive irresponsible silly free-wheeling weekend like this with me?

An adult?

LOL

Fat chance.

All the logic and rational thinking points to the probability of finding someone who is truly compatible with me about as likely as Don Quixote winning his war against the windmills or Ahab catching his whale. Any counselor would tell me I need to grow up and conform to society and so on... Peter Pan is a fantasy. Quixote is a story. Ahab dies. But what if I really do not want to live in this real world everybody seems to think is all there is? What if the present collective human reality is all just a sad self-destructive delusion?

From my perspective, looking at humanity, it is.

No common sense. I used to hear that a lot from a friend when I was about 11 or 12 or so. Hi Jack. The guy was not a dreamer, but this world agrees with him, so he's considered right.

What if that really doesn't matter to me?

So anyway, not expecting any sort of response right now or anytime, I'm gonna drink chocolate milk and write to myself (and anyone who might ever care to read someday) and maybe to my windmill or whale or the one (compatible partner) and dream of being in love and sharing living happily ever after.

I mean, anybody can liv happilly ever after, it's finding the right person to do it with that is the magical mystery tour of life (some might call a miracle, wonder of wonders and all).

I'll somehow survive all the extra calories, carbs, and other chemical imbalances, not to mention lack of sleep, health issues exacerbated by my irresponsible self-indulgences, financial hardships, extended unhealthy living conditions (I get back here to find out that now we have mice or rats and he drowned one in the bathtub), and whatever else... and I'll do my best to get to orientation on time.

But tonight I am going to continue my own private lonely road trip party just cuz I want to and if that kills me, well, I'll die having fun.

So all kidding aside, you know anyone who might even be anywhere close to wanting to share a little time, a weekend, no less a life with someone like me?

I'm open to meeting that person, so open I scare most everyone away lol :)

Sigh.

Think a counselor would have any answers I have not already tried? :)

I don't disrespect the profession and I do know the value of counseling, therapy, and educated mental health professionals. I just do not want to pay to hear something I've heard many times before, especially when I disagree with most solutions considered logical, rational, or right in this culture.

And in the end (Beatles reference intended)...

I joke a lot, but when I am most serious I am simultaneously happier and sadder than anyone I've ever met - and that makes me happy to be me just the way I am, when I am most serious. Most of the time I am just distracting myself until someone who wants to be serious with me comes along.

Did I mention I had a full blown Potty Emergency (See: The Animaniacs) tonight?

So in case someone might want to share a little wacko time with me, I'll be partying in my head, right here waiting, in case the one (or even the right counselor) shows up :)

Hope you wake up today with more determination and will than ever before to do what you need to do to get and keep what you want in life :)

When you fly, I will cheer and be your parachute
When you fall, I'll be there to help you up,
Cuz that's what family does :)

love, love, love,
me

Someone I Used To Know

Tonight (or some night among many nights), a friend told me about some guy renting rooms in his houses and I thanked him, but the location was way too far from work or softball and I do not want to add the stress and time of driving an extra 90-150 minutes every day. He does not get out much, doesn't work, and so it seems he did not think about the travel time for someone who works full time and plays a lot of ball. In thanking him and explaining why I do not want to talk to the guy with the place in the location he suggested, I explained life as I've known it for some time and while this might have been a very depressing letter at one time, it is reality and accepted as such, I do not succumb to the pity party that the living situations I've known could turn into.

Girls just wanna have fun, wherever they are, after all.

So without further ados or adonts, and with the brain seriously shutting down after a very long 4 days of very little sleep and a whole lot of softball (did I mention this was written another night?), I give you the result of some reality-quest game of introspective exploration of the rhymes and reasons of the current events and status of life in this physical world over the past few years.

Or something like that.

I appreciate you trying to help me find a better place. I am just very reluctant to move into another situation where I do not have the freedom to relax as I'd like to. If the mice/rats that moved into the space above the ceiling eat through the ceiling or walls and start eating the food stuffs in the living space, I may have to take whatever I can find, but I would rather not go sideways into another unknown sharing a bathroom with a stranger and living like a refugee out of a suitcase and boxes. I've been doing it for more than two years (in this space more than a year) and I really don't want to make another move until I find a pace where I can have more space, my own bathroom, and some reasonable kitchen and living space sharing. Cleaner, most definitely. The old saying the devil you know is better than the devil you don't know - the devil I know, here, I have some control over. He tolerates the bleach smell in the bathroom (because I spray with diluted bleach to disinfect at least daily) and he leaves me alone. I use the laundry and the microwave and have a little fridge space and do everything else in "my room."

It's a confining limited sometimes uncomfortable life with no cough or recliner to sit on, just a desk chair and folding tables as a "desk" and just an air mattress to sleep on, but it's 3 minutes from work and as I said above, I can clean my way.

Ok, too much seriousness is worse than diaper rash. I am so tired, most of the brain cells have shut down for the night. I am also grumpy because I pigged out on high calorie junk food over the weekend and put the brakes on that hard today only eating some chicken and a protein drink. I am back to a 800-1000 calorie daily diet for the next few weeks, maybe longer. My comfort food gone, the grumps are always close to the surface. But I must do it for health reasons so I will do it for health reasons and suffer emotionally for a while. Life has changed so much since when we first met. I had much more income and savings and energy and optimism and motivation and resiliency and other magical stuff. I am on a path to finding the non-material stuff in a life with much less money and zero savings in spite of the challenges low income and zero savings brings every day.

Ground control to Major Tom...

Now you have been updated on the conditions and situations and circumstances and experiences, however momentary, so thanks for caring and listening and singing frog songs. Fred is happy. Major Tom is drifting. Wacko is still waiting for me to come out to play again. And I still have hopes of finding love and laughter and living happiily ever after with the soulmate-partner of my dreams. Even if it is just in my dreams. )

I should eat more fruit.

la la la,
me and my shadow

Letter to Harpo (I Think)

Therefor I am? Well, whether this will be the start of something new in this blogosphere (aka the written gardens) or whether this is just another letter to a friend may depend on Harpo's response, if there is one, but whatever may be (may be), this is an update on life written to Harpo (maybe you guessed that already?) instead of calling because Eb is asleep and I drop it here because I am not sure where else to put it. Or something like that. Maybe.

See, this is the life I live. I get home from work and the roommate is fast asleep. I wake up to get ready for work and the roommate is fast asleep. This place is so small that if I got on the phone, I'd wake him up. I respect a roommate when they are sleeping and don't make noise or phone calls, so I didn't call. I have a dozen things must do before I get to sleep (which must be early) so I can be all set to hop in the car and drive the 10 hours to Nashville and be there by mid-afternoon so I can do what I need to do there before it's time to get a good night sleep tomorrow night so I can be wide awake and at my best for a full day and evening of softball in what might be blazing heat starting at 7:00 AM. Repeat on Sunday. Then drive back Sunday night to do an orientation by 1:00 PM Monday.

Must sleep lots tonight.

I did not get a protective case for my brand new $1000+ phone (crazy, isn't it?) because I simply ran out of time and that is about eighth on the list of very important things I need to do as soon as possible. Several must be done tonight (clean out car, sort through stuff to pack what I need for the trip {it gets very expensive if I do not take everything I need and I don't have the luxury of just heading out the door and buying whatever I need wherever I am like I used to, alas, Trump did it, I'm sure of it. He's probably tweet about it in the morning lol}, and several other things I really must remember to have a safe trip).

I also seldom call from this room on the hot nights because the fan roars like the soothing white noise of a jet engine. I wonder if you'd be able to hear me on the speaker on the new phone with the fan going? I keep a high-speed fan on most of the time here now since the thermostat is usually set at 84 and the place is not well insulated. Did I mention I sent out a dozen more roommate messages on the roommate website last night? There's always hope. I know, because I am always hoping. Even when I'm moping, I'm still hoping. Even when I was doping, I was still hoping. It's my way of coping, to just keep hoping. Like some fish just keep swimming I just keep hoping :)

Now that I've roped you in with my flair for silly rhyme, I must go back to getting ready for the trip. Imagine how we would drive each other crazy on a ten hour car ride. You'd probably need drugs with me driving lol :)

I ate real food today. I mean bacon and bread and potato and macaroni salads and all sorts of more. Lunch was probably 2000 calories. First time all week. I was doing so well, but then, I was feeling the fatigue. Gotta eat calories sometime after all lol. I'll eat mostly normally at least a few meals this weekend and hopefully will not gain back the weight I lost. Gotta find a scale one of these days to prove the weight loss isn't all just in my head too.

Time to stop this crazy thing.

Synthetically,
George Jetson and Astro

Say It Again, Until It is Heard

And another one down and another one down and another one bites the dust. What is biting the dust is fear, confusion, doubt, insecurity, and all the obstacles that fear can build or create. After six letters to four different people, clarity is refined to a wonderful understanding and that is a euphoric experience. I used to get here every time I sat down to write. Sometimes it would take three rhymes.Apparently it is taking longer and the rhymes don't even flow, but I am getting there once again.

Letters to friends can expose who I am, in case it matters, in case you want to know. Whatever you want, I want to know, so I say it again ad will continue until I hear it. Even if it takes longer than it used to. Even if it takes forever, I will wait for me. Cue the music. :)

Thank you for responding. I was waiting for you to tell me your idea about a phone, but realized I can't wait and must make a decision. I'm still curious though :)

I am surprised and touched that she remembers me enough to miss me. :)

There are many people in this world who believe men and women can't be very close without being either siblings or lovers. It is a sexually repressed culture we live in that leads to that stereotype. I think it's the same repression that leads to homophobia, though they are not the same reaction or conclusion. Such a need to conform and not be free to explore or express individual feelings. I wonder how to teach children that boys and girls can be friends without sexuality or romance. Anyway, we can be amused, correct her, and let it be. :)

When someone misunderstands what we say or do, I think the best we can do is patiently say it again, until it is heard.

Depending on practice time (if there's no rain), it may not be until 2ish before I get up there since it's 30 minutes from fields to here, then 30 minutes to shower and change if I can get right into the bathroom, then 30 minutes to you. I guess I will leave laundry until Wednesday. I was going to do the final phone shopping tomorrow because I leave for Nashville Friday morning next weekend and Monday and Wednesday nights are softball, Tuesday nights I usually stay later at work, and Thursday night I'll need to pack. Guess I should have shopped for the phone today but I wasn't sure when you'd want to get together during her visit and decided to give myself a day for writing and relaxing and spending no money and eating low calories to reset my habits cuz diet and spending needed to be reset again. It's tough to do living here, so I am hoping the women with the room responds favorably and is not insane lol.

I laid down earlier as I said I would, watched some TV, fell asleep, then woke hungry, drank a protein shake and sat down here to write.

Writing is my therapy. For a reader, it may seem like whining, complaining, being negative, pathetic, or any other sort of unhealthy behavior, but it is the healthiest thing I can do to understand myself, figure out what I want, what to do, and how to express myself. It's an escape without drugs or food or anything physically unhealthy (except for sitting uncomfortably for too long sometimes) and when it is not an escape, it allows everything inside to pour out and once out, it's resolvable and most important, it's not longer inside. Writing is clearing my head like some do with meditation or other activities. Except writing actually directly confronts thoughts and feelings in words.

I wonder if you are starting to understand how healthy writing is for me.

I hope you are less afraid of it than you once were.

It is freeing. An intellectual and philosophical purging of everything inside that almost always leads me to clarity, amusement, resolution, and a better place.

I find I can be fearless as I trust myself to free associate and think/feel/and find words to express thoughts and feelings without self-consciousness or inhibition.

Without fear, comes honesty. With honesty, come clarity. With clarity, come peace and security through resolution of confusion, conflicts, or obstacles. Amusement and happiness follow, amusement at the artificial dramas and futile conflicts I can create by limiting my awareness (closing my eyes, hiding, denying, avoiding, excusing, disassociating, deluding myself, and so on) that leads to unnecessary worry and lack of boundaries and irrational fears. Happiness that I can stop that, at least for a while, and understand how to accept (serenity) and improve what I can improve leads to euphoria.

If that makes any sense to you, and I hope it does, then maybe you can see through your fear to see the good I get out of writing and not be so concerned or worried or sad when I express doubts or fears or any other weakness. The way I see it, to find the light, one must explore the darkness. To find clarity, one must create it by exploring the confusion. To experience peace, one must step into and expose the war that goes on within one's self. To me, it is more scary to hide, deny, avoid, or pretend than it is to tear away the facade and expose the mess - for it is only by exposing the mess that any real meaningful effective cleaning up can begin. The alternative is to continue making the mess and hoping it will not trip me up or even, drown in it. Writing gives me control of myself and that allows more control of my life experience. That's the best we can do in this life.

I feel wonderful, refreshed, euphoric even, after finding the words to figure myself out enough to understand and gain control over my experience. Then I can let go again, trusting myself to do what is best for me and those my life might affect.

When the writing gets repetitive or rambling as it does often, that's just my way of continuing to share and I do it because it keeps the loneliness at bay and keeps the hope alive that someone might find the words and find some value and reach out and share something. Through sharing, we are less alone. I love being alone most of the time, but I also love sharing.

So I share this way. With myself. With hope someone else might come along and want to share back.

Clarity is better than sleep sometimes :)

I hope you find it too in your own way.

I hope you sleep well tonight. :)

Sort of An Update

There once was a best friend who who became too dependent. She calls it co-dependent, and so the books define her. I think we all have some of the tendencies to over-depend on others, but I also think labels are foolish excuses that allow us to accept too many mistakes without correcting them. Even taking a drug that is supposed to fix them, that is dependency I do not understand. I love the effects of some drugs, but to need a drug daily to be ok, that's a place I never hop to let myself get to and I do believe it is a choice more than anything else. Self-control is a lost art in modern society.

All that, and then there's this. Make of it what you will (I'd love an opinion outside of my own head lol, but don't expect me to accept it as right and true if I don't know you and you don't justify it, word). This blog, meanwhile, is mostly about me and what is or may be revealed in letters to friends. Could there be secrets I don't even know about myself? Could there be secrets I don't even realize I reveal here? Is this some form of co-dependency too?

I welcome input as I share for though I write primarily for myself, to keep myself company and learn about myself and express my feelings, I also write and share words online because I want someone to know me, to help me paint the big picture, and to share.

Or something like that. :)

Heard from old friend, best friend in high school, he's retired and in Palm Beach now.

Heard from pen pal from India, only exchanged a few emails, he or she praises me a lot.

Emailed a woman in Longwood about a room. Still would be a room in someone else's home, but would be my own bath, hopefully a better sharer, and above all else, cleaner. Hopeful, if she responds. $600 a month with a $600 deposit, $50 more a month than I pay here. Looks like a decent house in a better neighborhood, though I'm not positive. More reason to stop spending $, especially until the car is fully paid off. Then I am going to think about buying a house if I can find one in a decent area for $150,000. Brandy is right about Volusia county being cheaper than Seminole, but I've got to consider the trips to softball. No worries, I wouldn't call you any more than I do not if I lived closer. Seriously. I just need to find a place I can afford and I'll hibernate mostly. If I can find a place similar in size to yours, it would be ideal. I could bring all of my stuff out of storage and have $280 a month more for living. Then I could even think about selling stuff on eBay or Amazon an earn more $ that way. The house would probably have to be a fixer-upper, but it makes sense cuz mortgages are lower than rent.

I also thought about living in a senior living center, but that seems scary. I haven't explored those yet. The thing is, I just haven't been able to find a roommate to share space and expenses. I've been on a roommate site for more than two years, sent dozens, many dozens of messages. The las two times I tied this site I found a roommate in a few months and in a month, respectively. I think age has a lot to do with it, but it could be a lot of other things too. Anyway, though this living space gets to me and I have given up at times in the past couple of years, I am not giving up and just wanted you to know. That's a good thing.

We haven't shared in such a long time. I wish you'd find a way past your guilt so you can be my friend again :)

Laugh?

I so rarely know your reaction to my serious jokes :)

We wont go into my medical stuff just now... rolling eyes and acting all nonchalant lol (laugh with me, please?)

Ok, so I think I've decided on an iphone. I can get an 8plus for $25 a month. Much much better for my eyes. I am used to the iphone. The 7plus is $23 a month so it makes sense for $2 a month more to get the better phone. There are some differences worth the $2 a month. I don't think I want to get used to the Android again. I won't need to think about another phone for 3 years. Probably lol :)

The other option is buy the cheapest phone I can find, refurbished or used, keep not using it as much as I might because the screen is so small, and see how long it might last and wait until September (or later) when the next newest models come out but they probably will be more at least at first. Hopefully they won't be a big difference in the October models. Back in the 80's I was living so much more comfortably and buying all the latest tech. I was earning twice the national average, about what I make now. The economy really has screwed us middle class. Makes me wonder why more people don't see it.

So I must face and really deal with the fact I am still not financially ready to get an iPad or better computer. But to back up an iphone I'm going to have to get a better computer. I really don't know why I am having so much of a challenge living on $45K a year. The car payment probably is the biggest reason. Putting more into a retirement plan is another reason. Putting $200 (now $300 as of last month) into a savings account I don't touch is another reason. Paying $830 a month for rent and storage is another factor, but I was handling more when we were living together most months. Maybe the biggest difference is eating less economically because I don't have a clean fridge or kitchen. Not having any savings left may be a factor, but it still feels puzzling. When I worked for the psych hospital I was making $45K a year and I was able to save some money. Prices rise that much?

So I've renewed my effort to live healthier and more economically this weekend. No spending money this weekend and I will try not to all week except for the phone so I'll not stress over the Nashville next weekend. Then gonna try to spend as little money as possible the rest of July and August and then World Series trip to Tampa in September.

Based on this weekend, it is extremely lonely living this way.

Wish I had someone to talk to more often. Any ideas about why it is so challenging for me to find someone I can really relate to - and who can and wants to relate to me?

I'll appreciate any serious answer from you as a friend or my sister or a therapist, whatever works for you :)

Or just nod and send a hug as you usually do. I'm used to that :)

Thanks for listening, this has helped reinforce what I need to do.

I'll try to lay down and watch The Animaniacs now.

hug thanks, love you

Does this reveal too much?

Who makes the rules that answer that question?

I suppose I am still trying to understand the reason people create and accept so many boundaries, walls, secrets. What is privacy anyway and why do we need it? Because others will take advantage of us? Isn't it just the opposite, that secrets make us ore vulnerable than having nothing to hide? Or is freedom just another word for nothing left to lose? What is your philosophy and why do you choose it?

I'll be fine without answers. I rarely get answers. That does not stop my curiosity though. :)

So how are you? :)

Narf :)

Old Friends (Bookends?)

Your timing is perfect as you caught me on a letter writing day. These days don't come too often, but a wonderful storm has me inside and I was in the middle of writing a third letter when yours popped up. I want to go out and play in the storm, but the odds of this body surviving a lightening have gone down enough for me to think twice about splashing around outside when the thunder is booming. Even if the odds of getting struck are are very much in my favor lol. I like living so I take fewer risks as I shoot for experiencing what 100 years old feels like :)

Love the Yogi quote. I do enjoy life and when I look back, few regrets. Not having any close family ties has given me a unique perspective and while it is sad sometimes and I've known some downbeats, it has some rewards too and has made me who I am (still singing all you need is love and seeking the positive as much as I can no matter what happens. I like me and the whole world is my family, so it's turning out just fine from my perspective. As I said, keeping in touch with you and others I considered family, even for a relatively brief few years, is something I'd try to do differently. Figuring out how to keep a relationship going on forever (and not just falling in love forever in my heart and mind) is another skill I'd still like to master.

I remember when you met Alice and I admire you for the life your chose. Kids? Four legged kids? Family? Are you in touch with Rob, Mike, and Maddy and how are they doing? I didn't know Andrew well, but him too? I imagine mom and dad may be gone, hope not, but I shudder inside as there could be sad news after all these years. Still, I would like to know. As emo as this may sound, the Ricci house is my fondest memory of family life. I can still get teary eyed thinking back and remembering, but then, I'm just still a mushy kid inside in a world full of hard asses and people scared of their emotions and honesty, so I've learned to smile silently most of the time :)

How about other people we knew? Stay in touch with any of them? I find some on Facebook now and then, though I am not on Facebook much.

Ah painting. I painted my best friend's (adopted sister) bedroom last month (three coats and baseboards all in one very long day) and in spite of playing ball often, I woke up some muscles I forgot I had lol. She lives in Lake Helen, FL which is about twenty minutes from here and it was a surprise for her fiance who was away for business for the night so we only had one day to get it done. I bought a house in Loughman, FL, 1990 and did all the maintenance for five years before I moved to Toronto, so I know some of what goes into house-care. Another poor financial choice was letting that house go, but the things we do for love (and love, at the time, was in Toronto). Wonderful memories.

Ah, you understand the flip phone life in a smart phone world :) The county promised me an iPhone 6 in October. I still haven't bought a new one, but between work, softball, and other activities, I do depend on the communication a smart phone provides. Erika (the best friend/sister I mentioned about painting) offered to buy me one but I a terrible accepting gifts so I've avoided the subject lol. I really should get one before the tournament next week as connecting with 15 people in another city can be impossible without links and maps and so on.

Catch me up on the almost 40 years whenever you have the time. I have a big space in my head and heart for you and you're welcome to add memories to it anytime. :)

As we catch up, I may just try to do a time line of life one of these days, year by year. Those used to be fun (for me, at least lol) :)

Take care and keep in touch, I'm glad to have found you again.

PS... I Hate You

The full title, for publishing purposes, is PS.. I Hate You (With Love)

Yes, there is a PS to this entry because there is a PS to the letter in the previous entry which you may want to read, since a PS comes after the letter, in most cases. Once again it turns out that as unique as I can be in so many ways, he did sucker me in to purchasing something this time. In his previous thirty or fifty letters over the last many years, I was able to resist the temptation to buy some sort of hard copy of his brilliance, but the songs CD just grabbed me and wouldn't let go. Weird, maybe, but not Al, just Ash lol.

Anywawho, there are so many amusements to explore on the brilliant man's site that even when there's nothing new the wealth of stuff is enough to provide endless hours of pondering and other writings the likes of which Pinky and the Brain (and any insatiable babbler) would be most proud. Admirable, even. If I had the money (remember Your Song do ya?) I'd upgrade his website and increase his stock of T-Shirts (of course you knew I'd go there... I don't have $25 for more T-Shirts I don't have room for, but if I did, I'd buy some, especially Don't ask me what the score is, I don't even remember what game we are playing, among others not sold out... alas, so many are sold out, but that's life) and books (he's published more than a dozen and is working on a new one) and paintings and mugs and stuff and I suppose by now you might have guess that this man and his words have had a permanent place in the life I loosely call mine ever since I was a much littler child. Apparently, he can still trick me with his cleverness, or my love. lol :)

PS... I hate you (with love),

I may have been suckered into a purchase, you wicked despot, you. I suppose you are helping me lose weight, a medical goal on my agenda that recently moved from the back burner to the front thanks to lab tests and modern medical data. I will not eat this weekend, much, and definitely will not spend $, as I've given you my weekend allowance for splurging on things I want but do not need. To compound matters, my iPhone 5, that was a hand-me-down gift some three years ago from a kind-hearted 20 year old friend who purchases the latest gadget every year, died two weeks ago (the phone, the friend is now 23 and living as well as we humans can manage) and I've been saving every penny to purchase a new phone and really should not put it off another week as I am going to Nashville to pitch in a softball tournament next weekend and phones are essential for communicating with a team on an away trip. The trip itself is forcing a zero-spending limit for the month of July, which was supposed to start in June, so you may be lucky to have found me on a very vulnerable day-before-the-deadline as you thawed the spending freeze before it fully solidified, which makes you evil in the budget office as they scramble to obtain more imaginary refrigerant.

Hopefully, you are as immune to guilt trips as I am and find my futile attempt to get free stuff as amusing as I do, but feel free to include a little gift for any reason at all, especially if you still remember the free love and communal sharing we once knew when we were young and foolish and oh so wise. Wisdom may truly be wasted on the young, but that doesn't mean it wasn't real at the time.

It is said that wisdom is wasted on the young... but that doesn't mean the young should give it back.

Anyway, this is a PS, so it should be less lengthy than an actual letter... not that anything must be as it should be. In fact, just imagine the world where thing were not always as they should be, but as they could be. In even more extended fact, I believe things should be as the could be a whole lot more than as they should be... oh, if only they would be. What a wonderful world this should could would be.

You may have guessed that my first doctor was named Seuss, who's name I used to spell wrong until I remembered that Suess should rhyme with guess and his name is Seuss. Not that words always sound as they should, but if they could... oh no, let's not start that merry go round again. Instead, let's just say thank you very much for the inspiration to let the words flow freely just a little, for the free associative babbling is the refuge of the sanity that still might be left in the cranial capacitors between the ears of the head that sits on neck of the body I loosely call mine for however long I can keep up the ever more complicated maintenance program and ever increasing payments. Once upon a time, I might have been a revered elder in a tribe of people who respected the Earth and each other. Alas, this experience of aging in the current modern culture is so sad, I wonder how many more years I will want to continue doing it. Forever seems so futile sometimes. On the other hand, my calendar is relatively free and there are still so many possibilities to explore before whatever might come next, so I'll just stick around and see what happens. This moment, after all, is quite enjoyable. Even if I'm the only one getting pleasure out of it.

If you want to know more, please deposit 25 cents for the next three minutes. Or click here for that matter. I blog almost daily, sometimes several times a day, and somehow maintain a hundred other blogs and about fifty pages on the current social media monster, in case it matters.

Thunder rolls across the sky inviting me to step outside of my mind (and this PS) to experience some weather. We get weather here every day, often loud and wet at this time of year. I've not played softball in at least two weeks because the fields have been too wet for safe play. I remember the days when I'd love to dive to catch a ball playing softball or football in fields puddled with slippery grass and much mud. I miss the days when there were not so many rules about running around and having fun.

In any case (wordy brother to anyway, I imagine), I shall pause this babble and take my leave from this PS with a wish for a day with many more smiles than frowns for both of us and we shall see if I enter my credit card information and click on that link on your site. I have a pay pal donation link on my primary blog in case anyone is interested. Just saying, as the kids say these days. I miss the days when I did not have to think about pennies so often too.

Thank you for being, oh brilliant one. Thank you for your emails and all the words you've shared over the years. May you find inspiration to find more and share more a lot more in this life and if there is a way, I hope to receive a pot shot after we are gone, wherever we may be.

honest love,
ric

You can find even more Ash here.

Brillance

Typically I do not link the source for inspiration to write these letters to friends out of respect for the privacy of the friends who inspire the letters, but this is a unique friend who's lived and danced in my mind for many decades now and he is brilliant and wouldn't mind that I share his brilliance with you.

Hug. I feel like we're old friends, at least in my mind. Your words have lived there for more than 50 years so far. :)

I know loss and loneliness. I've accepted that filling the space, internally and externally, of a lifelong partner is relatively impossible - which is a sadness without a bottom that I do my best to spend little time in because I can only tread on the surface for so long. There is, I learned as a young child (and am lucky enough to still remember sometimes) this wonderful momentary experience called life and experiencing the senses this body still affords me in each moment as fully as I can is still the best experience I can enjoy by myself. Do I do that as much a possible

I still dream of finding another compatible partner for however much longer this body keeps breathing (and I'm hoping for several more decades as I would like to see what being 100 years old is like for real, rather than just feeling like it now and then lol) and keep my heart and mind open to the possibility. At least a close enough friends to be a roommate perhaps, as I enjoy sharing a living room and daily rituals. I am challenging to please though and do not follow the core paths of thought most do in this world.

Yes, I enjoy being alone, but I also know the lonely abyss of missing a life partner and still wanting that sharing. The trick some people seem to learn is to no longer want it. Need is just wanting something more than you may need it. Or perhaps it is better said, neediness is wanting something more than you actually need it. I feel needy when I want something more than I need it. Almost a Pot-Shot, though I do not snap with your brilliance. :)

I lose myself in words, babbling, and find much amusement and comfort in writing to myself or to anyone who might care to read. I've gotten so used to writing in blogs to myself and anyone without responses that I seem to have forgotten how much I loved to communicate and correspondence is not as natural as it once was. Hundred page letters back and forth between pen pals was once a regular part of life for me. It's almost strange to write to an individual now. I smile, chuckle, and ponder why. Only slightly. :)

Anyway (the catch all segue word still very much in use in the babbling mind), I wrote to say I love you for the words you've brought into this life and for the thoughts your words inspired. May you continue for many more years.

I have your Pot Shot CD somewhere in storage, alas, much of the stuff of this life is in storage at this time, but I still enjoy the memories. A big box containing several hundred Pot Shot cards is also there, on antique paper by now as many were purchased in the sixties lol. Sadly, I must hold back on my desire for purchase, as I live very frugally at the moment, but if I win the lottery or something like that I will buy more new stuff.

Keep on keeping on, my friend in my mind. Know your life of words touched many and still does. I value your presence in this life above most others.

honest love,
ric

Loving The Music and Laughter

For all the girls I've loved before... lol lam, written to one who shares (co-authors) blogs long sleeping and memories long buried in the corners of the mind and written gardens far from daily life paths today... still, it turns me on. :)

It was that video (above) that came on after this video (to the right, posted by my most recent baby sister) (and the laughter came with the next three videos below) as the universe and youtube gave me cause to reflect on memories of this life and the laughter of acceptance and appreciation warmed the cockles of the heart still beating (in case you wondered) once again.

     

Even more amusing might be that the next video youtube chose was Billy Joel's Uptown Girl and I always wondered if down deep you might have secretly wanted to be one (or did you just toy with the idea), but in any case, I stopped by here to drop these words because I wondered just what Drops Of Jupiter meant to you and whether we saw similar connections in it. Was I the one who went off looking for myself out there (much against my will as it was your decision), or was that you doing that with me gone? When I am centered, I know me and what I am looking for is the one who can love as I love, with infantile unconditional trust and infinite endless unconditional love in the physical reality of this world. Still haven't found the one I'm looking for, but I understand how challenging doing that can be better than I ever have. I still don't accept that it is an impossible dream though. So I'll keep dreaming and smiling and laughing at the reminders of how profound and foolish and joyous and sad and euphoric and painful and amazingly emotional (the roller coaster ride just keeps on rolling) and wondrously wonderful this life has been as I continue living in the moment and hoping and anticipating the next moment when everything will change and everyone will let love overcome fear. :)

Imagine :)

So how are you? I wonder more than I post here and maybe that is true for you too. You may not get a notice in your email when I post here or perhaps you just ignore it or put it off until the time to respond is right an that right time never comes for whatever reason, but whatever happens at your end, I am right here waiting for a response (and my email will tell me it arrived) because I don't waste time or love or life letting go of people who I adopted as family (but you know that) and whether that is because I never knew biological family (nurture) or because I simply am as I am (by nature or choice or both), I am as I am with spinach and La Cage Aux Folles references dancing through my mind) and I am still the happiest aware person I know.

Thumbs up to the sky (Douglas Adams understands) and hope for the miracle humans seem to need to survive, I wish you and anyone who thinks of me (I don't exist for them if they don't) and everyone else peace and love and happiness and a self-sufficient sense of security that lets love overcome fear. I hope you are smiling more than frowning in your life and may these words, if you find them, give you cause to widen your smile. If just for a moment, remember you were and are loved by me.

Who Am I To You?

Our lives are defined by our actions and also, by what others think of us (and our actions). It may be that the opinions of others are what defines us, since without those opinions it is fair to ask, do we exist? It is akin to the question about the tree falling in the forest, not in so much as does it make a sound? but rather, what if no one ever knew it fell and it decomposed and became part of the ground from whence it came? Did it exist if no one ever knew it was there?

Philosophers can debate, but for us human beings, I believe we do exist as solid (filled with liquid and gas) solitary beings even if no one ever knows we were alive, but it is how others perceive us that defines us beyond a sack of cells. To that end, I ask people who I am when people share this life for any extended period. Friends, family, roommates, the longer we share tie and/or space, the more defined we can be to each other.

This next letter comes to be along those lines.

I never really knew what you wanted from me other than help staying afloat financially, but I wanted to believe in the "BFF" term you kept using to describe me and I wanted to believe you wanted me to be in your life in some way. Maybe it's the way you are with friends and family. Maybe I am deluding myself to think you want a big brother and he might be me.

It's not sadness I am trying to express. It is uncertainty. I am who I am and will always be here for anyone I've ever loved and adopted in any way. I adopted you as my sister and I just don't know if that is too presumptuous or if you even want that.

I hope that makes sense and you understand.

I am not asking for anything more than clarity about what you want from me and who I am to you. Maybe I'm your parachute packed away in the back of your mind and life just in case you ever need a place to land. Maybe even that is not accurate.

So anyway, all this wondering comes about because the body is challenging me to go to the doctor cuz I've had diarrhea since Valentine's Day. I don't think they are connected lol, but then, who knows. It could be a lot of things. Reaction to antibiotics I was taking for an infected leg, food poisoning I thought I got from New Peking Buffet, sudden change in diet, appetite, weight loss, blah blah, could even be a parasite or virus or bacterial infection (someone suggested C Diff).

I am surprisingly ok with having no one to call other than 911 if I have that serious an emergency and I have no one I trust enough to put down as an emergency contact. I am just kind of wanting to understand where I am and who I am in life and part of that is understanding where I am and who I am to the people in my life.

I don't know if it is time to stop caring and shift you into the distance like Precious, Minnie, and others I've adopted along the way. Not that I stopped caring about them, but I just don't stay in touch much (though I do nudge Precious for her phone bill each month and she has started paying the last few months... yay for big girl responsibilities lol :)

Too much thinking? Too much reflections? Too much wondering?

Don't want to choose a "place" in this life I loosely call mine?

Just let the drift away happen without mentioning it cuz it's too awkward?

Maybe I don't know you as well as I think I do, but somehow... the last fits and yet - I don't know if you want it to fit because I think you are maturing and realizing that is the an-awareness that got you into all sorts of messes (financially and in relationships) in the past.

Is this me looking out for my little sister?

Or is this me butting in where I am not wanted?

Or me just wanting to re-define myself again?

Could just be me with too much time on my hands as I wait for the laundry to get done so I can have clean sheets and go to sleep. :)

Will I ever know? :)

My blogs have all the details of the body challenges and a lot more. I write in them pretending someone will care to know every little detail of this life I live someday. Would be nice if they came along while I am still alive, but maybe I'll be discovered like Van Gogh and be a beloved babbler (poet, sage, village idiot, I mean, like any good puppy, I'll accept any role for a little constant attention ya know?) someday by future generations.

A life ought to have some meaning, purpose, and proof of existence, after all.

Like the Who's in Whoville, I am here, I am here, I am here. :)

Someday someone will understand :)

So how are you?

Narf :)

honest love,
me (whomever I may be :)

Life Is Sharing

I do not know how else I can explain it other than to say it, sharing is life and sharing is caring and caring is living and life is sharing and life is sharing caring.

I am never more alive than when I am sharing caring. I strive to be always caring, but sometimes the caring is buried deep, always there (cuz I am not dead), but sometimes numbness surrounds it and apathy, procrastination, and boredom is the skin deep appearance. That happens sometimes when the sharing, especially the deeper sharing, which is fuel for the caring, wanes too much. The sharing is seldom here these days.

I am not ready to give up and sit back and stop reaching out in every way I can with everything I've got and hoping someone notices and understands and likes what I offer and reaches out and starts sharing, so here we are again. An online friend of a decade and a half, maybe longer, one of the blog family (if you recall), keeps the blog family blog alive and inspires more hope on a recurring basis... this is what follows.

Oh my badness, letting your comment sit here for weeks, or almost weeks and then I think, but what is time... and then I think, time is never enough when life is full of wonder and excitement and sharing and time is an infinite abyss when empty and longing for someone to care.

Is time all that? Probably a lot more and nothing, as it is one more measure of the illusion we live as a finite life.

What if no one can relate?

I find my reaction to that possibility more akin to a deep and unending sadness than fear. I am alone, always. I learned that as an infant or whenever the first thoughts coalesced in this brain I call mine. I looked out through these eyes and saw others in their own bodies and wanted to share, so I tried to learn how the interactions work, how communication works, how to feel less alone. I learned how to share in many ways, but always knew it was illusory - bonds we create in the mind to disassociate from the experience of being alone in these individual shells we call bodies. My awareness of this fact has ended many relationships as I've yet to meet anyone who actualizes the awareness in conscious physical sharing as I do. My awareness seems to be an affront to those who accept the illusion as reality while denying awareness that it is an illusion.

And not alone, yes, for there are a few like you who understand that sharing is accepting the communication in the moment as the sharing it is - shared thought, shared feeling, shared experience of understanding and trusting that someone cares to listen, read, and wants to understand.

Believing someone cares enough to want to understand is the first most important step toward understanding, sharing, and feeling not alone.

Thank you so very much for sharing this. :)

Yes, our dear family choose to remain mostly silent now for their own reasons. They may have forgotten this blog even exists as some have never joined. Privacy is so important to them that sharing is secondary. For me, it is the opposite to extremes that keep many from sharing with me. I want to understand because I care, but I not sharing is so not what I want in this life, it is challenging for me to stop babbling openly about everything that I experience in the hope someone like me will come along and share everything openly anywhere sharing can happen.

In this blogworld, for instance,you are the only one who accepted the invitation to share this blog. I've known each of the others in our family through sharings outside of blogging and even there, they choose silence much more than communicative sharing these days. I wish I could find a way to motivate them to share some more words, some interactions, some of the joy I find in words and other sharing. I remind them as I do you (sometimes too often for their private silence, perhaps, but they know I mean well), they are always welcome, encouraged to share, and loved.

I am permanent within myself as long as my consciousness can bring clarity of perception to reasonable understanding. Everything else is transient illusion. You recur enough to be a constant, though not daily, much more constant than a comet and comets offer permanence... recurrence offers enough proof of existence to offer permanence. :)

I have a day off from work today so catching up on emails that point me to comments and other connections is the bliss I enjoy as laundry spins and I remain open to whatever else may come.

I close reminded of the Robin Williams film, What Dreams May Come, which calls me back to an understanding that came from outside of my head that seemed to fit inside my head - which is the best kind of experience short of sharing the experience with another person.

Many hugs shared and a big smile for being here :)

I miss you all, blog family.

Many Hugs and honest love.

and Narf, always narf :)

Morning Euphoria (and other perspectives)

Sometimes I write a letter to someone and feel like the whole world should read it. Sometimes it's just ego telling me I might get some attention, positive reactions, response, or feedback. Sometimes it is a deeply intuitive sense of connection to an ethereal universal feeling that suggests the words might actually help save humanity from self-destruction and/or record a meaningful moment in the epoch of human existence on this planet. I don't think this next letter is any of those things because I think it may be all of those things and more. In that sense, it likely dilutes any profound meaning or value while possibly giving some modicum of worth to the egocentric babblings that give me my own little mental madhouse in which I can find refuge and amusement when I wake up refreshed enough to find it.

Feel free to decide for yourself because, after all, that is the only thing we can do.

lol lam laa :)

If this in any way gives cause for pain of any kind to anyone, please do not keep it inside, please let me know and work with me to find out why... for my intent is to do no harm and to offer something worthwhile... I hope I achieve my intent, always. That last statement just expanded and became a part of the right column (or pane) of this blog and seeks further edification and sharing. That wonderful feeling of clarity comes over me right now and I thank you for inspiring it. May it do no harm. :)

Your first paragraph, yes, it is so true and so much of what I do to... though I do it differently (than you and than most people as I certainly use different words, and a lot more of them, which makes your writing more valuable because it is more succinct, on topic, neat, and therein offers more clarity and yet, my way amuses me and offers me more insight and amazement and pleasure, so I am grateful for our communication because it provides me with both my way and your way and the best of both), the outcome - turning lemons into lemonade, finding some positivity in everything, even humor, that is my way. I do it internally in silence as you do but also through words (redundantly and repetitively as may become obvious any moment now lol lam), my way meanders through thickets full of thorns and spiders and snakes (am I remembering a stereotype of what boys are made of or am I hearing a Carly Simon song in my head here? lol lam... of course both and more) but I do get to what many have called an overwhelming perspective of sugar and spice and everything nice in the end when I close my eyes and let my world unfold around me and sooth me and lead me to the awareness that I am part of everything as is everything.

Then I start all over again trying to interact and understanding the world outside of my head.

See? A lot more words and meandering lol lam :)

I am so happy we continue to communicate and you are ok with whatever I share. My butt still hurts when I poop and blood, still, and yes, another doctor, I should do... cryptic phrasing serves it's purpose... and tell the new doctor that the other half dozen doctors I saw this year say nothing is wrong. Naturally nothing is wrong with dying, we all do it and it is a natural part of the life cycle that no one cn avoid as far as we know, but come on, chronic pain and bleeding should not be a natural part of daily life, right? There are many who know the limits of the medical profession and industry better than I and yet, if they even seemed like they cared I might buy into their meaningless words a bit more. Two of them with a lot of expensive letters after their names did expensive exams of the poop shute, colon and rectum and anus, not necessarily in that order. The last guy looked three times. Way too impersonally for me so I won't be back in spite of his highest ratings on the doctor rating websites. Still, nothing to be concerned about, they all say.

Happy happy joy joy lol lam laa :)

Seriously, I woke up happy and I am having much fun today in spite of the poop pain. Naturally that provides the opportunity to dig deep into my psyche and mine for the angst and agonies cuz the euphoria provides a sense of invincibility. It is a wonderful feeling (and all ego aside, we won't pretend it is not true and real, even if that seems like an illusion {or delusion} to those who do not understand the awareness that brings one to this place of consciousness).

I realized last night that I have not sat back comfortably in a recliner or couch to relax and watch TV or listen to music or write in a year and three quarters. That is sad. In the past couple of days I reached a new level of understanding and acceptance of life and the people in it and giving up on close personal friendships as I felt myself moving from hoping Jackson or others will maintain closeness to accepting distant family relationships like anyone in the world can be and actually is instead of being close personal individual trusted friends. That is sad. It is sad when someone who is trusted to share all the hopes and fears and vulnerabilities inside suddenly disappears and does not care to be there when you feel weak or afraid. Very sad, but I am so very happy I have reached that point of acceptance again.

Maybe that is why some do not feel comfortable sharing their most vulnerable weaknesses, their fears and pains. Maybe some have experienced the sadness of depending on someone outside of themselves to listen, to respond, to care and they disappeared once too often so we reach a point of not sharing, not hoping, and not allowing ourselves to depend on anyone outside of our self. I know I am there inside, somewhere, but I also know I still nurture the hope and hunger to share an intimate dependency of trust so I experience an agonizing loneliness. I so hope you don't.

Did you notice how the pronouns morphed from general external to mutual to you?

Shhhhh, that would be telling lol lam lam :)

Roller coaster rambling is so much fun (even more than an open sleigh of some configuration). This is the waking up happy and in love with myself and everything mood I am in. I can let the roller coaster roll through what may appear, in words, to be deep sadness and profound pain and it is - make no mistake that it isn't - yet the joy of feeling it and experiencing it and expressing it overwhelms any pain or fear or doubt or weak feeling because in expressing it I find strength and hope and joyous celebration.

Makes sense to me (so there's a party going on in my head lol lam).

In case you did not know, I am actually laughing when I lol lam... it may not be heard in the words, but I am :)

And smiling such a self-satisfied smile :)

Yay too. :)

I caved in last night and ordered Italian. $40 which should have easily been two big meals and could have been four, but I ate it all in one sitting. Eggplant parm, spaghetti, more eggplant parm, and a calzone with extras inside. And a salad. Still, I no longer drink anything but water 98% maybe 99% of the time. That helps keep me from going too far over the 220 pound mark.

I read through the doctor's paperwork that was posted on the hospital portal last night. The paperwork says my weight is normal. The paperwork also says that I am a light smoker. This is official medical documentation that insurance companies can review and they can't even get basic intake information correct. What a sad state of affairs in such an expensive industry.

What books are you reading? I miss reading. Reading puts me to sleep now. The last time I read was around the time the last Harry Potter book came out. I read those and all of Stephen King and so much more during the first decade of this century, millennium, even. The library was part of my weekly rounds. I loved the atmosphere in the big libraries. I was getting books by mail from the library too. I miss my library. I forgot whether it was 10 or 20 thousand books in storage up north. more that 20 thousand, I think. Even more magazines. I was getting more than a hundred different magazine subscriptions in the 1980s, the peak years. And the more than 10 thousand vinyl recordings. I miss my collections suddenly so much more than I usually do. Most days I barely think about them, though they are ever present in a layer of consciousness just below the surface, a layer I am always aware of, yet I've learned to skim or skip over as I wander through my daily activities Jane is the only one interested in the storage stuff of the people in my local physical environment. Local has become up to an hour away these days as people move around this area. Soon, California will be local (don't know whether to laugh or cry, so I'll laugh lol lam lal) :)

While I love the intimacy of personal correspondence (and even love the intimacy of blogging and the intimacy is very real for me here as I pour myself into words for all to see), intimacy really should be a lot closer than this sometimes, ya know? :)

Maybe you disagree and I understand that words can be as intimate as any connection, I've been there more than a few times. These words I share with you are as close to my core, as unfiltered and vulnerable as any I share I think.

This is intimacy too.

Your county library, I read the word county and realize I am a caretaker of my county. Hundreds of thousands of people and I have a role in every one of their lives in my job. Wow. Are you in LA county? New York of Kings or... those are huge counties. So many people. And then I realize that every county has an emergency management department or division or office or person. In the smallest counties, it's the sheriff who serves as just about everything. Sometimes it's the fire chief or mayor, but there are counties without either I think. Small places with few people who pretty much govern and take care of themselves rather informally. And outside of this country, so many other ways of social agreements and peace. That is what government is, ultimately, just social agreements intended to keep the peace. Pity they wander so far from their purpose when they get too big.

Someday I feel like that last paragraph could be worth reading, in fact, this is one of those letters that feels like valuable writing for humanity and posterity (or is that just my ego and euphoric mood? lol lam)... perhaps with some excellent editing lol... but it is written to you and it should not be shared without editing, fictionalizing, depersonalizing. So I edit, fictionalize, generalize, and depersonalize wondering if it is disrespectful to the level of sacrilegious or considerate?

One person's reverence is another person's sacrilege.

The truth is that some the greatest writings, fiction or non-fiction, are those that are deeply personalized while still being universal.

As an avid reader (yu are still reading this so I make an assumption with a mischievous grin), does that not make sense? Agree or disagree, Very seriously, I'd really love to know your thoughts on this thought about writing.

That reminds me that I loved Stephen King's On Writing ... it is a top ten non-fiction book in my library. Just one more reason I love King.

And suddenly the phone rang, twice.

Sarducci called to invite me to his party next Saturday. Helen called to ask me to stop by today to fix her shower. She would take me to dinner tonight, but my digestive system is still coping with the Italian food pig out (no pain, no gain lol except the gain in this instance defied {and defiles} the intent of that phrase, aye? Anyway, no pain or discomfort other than bloat and pain on the toilet seat, so far, thank goodness... crazy as I am, I might change my mind and go to the crazy buffet by the evening.. if only because it is so appropriately named).

I checked my softball calendar and saw there was no game today so I told Helen I'd be there about 5 as I have a party later tonight (she doesn't party or socialize in large groups much partly or even mostly because she does not enjoy the social bullshit most people consider communication which is why we relate well and is usually in bed by 9 PM so I stopped asking her to come along long ago and she's good with that cuz she knows she's welcome) and I thanked her and put it on my calendar.

I thanked Sarducci for his call and invite and put that on my calendar. He said he knows I am not on Facebook much (most people use it more than telephones or any other form of communication, even as a personal social calendar) and that is why I sometimes don't show up to his parties. Good deal, you want me, call me (or at least text me)... or write me a letter if it's not needing a time-sensitive response :)

Facebook, sigh, it is such a misnomer. It is the single most powerful reason that people do not actually have as much face-to-face communication as they used to. Used to be that distance was the primary reason, but I really think if a scientific study could be done, people who live more than 100 miles away from each other who are not Facebook-dependent actually see each other and communicate better than people who live in the same town or city who are Facebook-dependent. I think the DSM-VI needs to include Facebook, or at the very least Internet-dependency as a category of mental disorder classifications lol (actually, there was controversy about this when DSM-V was being written so while I laugh, the thought is not as absurd as it may first appear).. As far back as 2011, Madison Avenue and techies were talking about Facebook Addiction. There is actually growing evidence that it dis-orders a lot of minds. Can clinical evidence be far behind?

Yeah, so there I am off on a linking tangent again so here you go, another letter in your box. Since the links have begun it means I am rolling along and ready to head to my babbling blogging mode. I hope this roller coaster of words and topics was fun for you. It was much fun for me and I feel even better than I did when I woke (euphoria is infinite, ya know?) because resolution and reassurance emerged from responding to your words. I love it when the writing process works. :)

May today start out easier than most days and turn into a beautiful day full of love and laughter and quiet peace. I hope the noise of the world outside is quiet and some life flies and flutters by your windows. I hope you feel like enjoying the world outside your door and the weather welcomes you with comfortable breezes and the sun warms your face. May it be a good day. :)

I wish the same for all of you.

Narf :)

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