sometimes secrets slip through

once again an unplanned communication reveals enough about me to copy and paste it here and i suppose that is a large part of what this blog space is about, a kind of reflective record of interactions with others that help me recollect, reveal, and record bits and pieces of myself for myself and anyone who might want to know... sometimes the obscurity respects privacy and sometimes it is just my playful way with words that seeks unique and maybe clever ways of writing what amounts to the same thing i've written all through this life... it is another side of me...

so the message was...

I may or may not have written the most to you in my life.
and i am charging up my zodiac strength to possibly find out what i will get you for my birthday.

and i woke from a refreshing slumber with an extra four plus hours cuz it is a day off and smiled at the text message that called me to write (a whole lot more than this) and the day continues, but for now, here is where it began...

and what do you want for your birthday?...

ah, but my birthday is april and yours is november, both the 6th, so there is time before either comes around on the calendar...

on the other hand, the calendar is meaningless to me most of the time and i have celebrated my birthday only two or three times in this life, which may be sad for some, but is as i know birthdays for me, so not as sad for me...

you wrote what i will get you for my birthday . . . like what you will get me for your birthday?... that is an interesting juxtaposition of pronouns - arrangement of words, that is...

what would you like to get me for your birthday?...

and writing...

wow, really?... i write more than i breathe sometimes... started when i could first hold a crayon, but got into writing a lot every day in my teens when i the girl i loved more than anything else in this life (more than myself) stopped loving me the way i loved her and that ending scarred me and started me on writing almost every day...

sometimes i write simple records of life, the hope is someone comes along (like her) who will want to know me so much that she will want to read every word... and sometimes writing is my therapy like it was in my teens - that is the babbling that few ever really understand cuz it rambles off on so many tangents that the threads of any meaning are hidden in the mass of words...

anyway, writing means a lot to me in many ways, from keeping me sane and functional and free in the 'real world' (out in public interacting and surviving with the other human beings) and happy in my own head understanding myself and what i want and how to get it...

some people don't care if they actually really share anything - like actually really understand each other...

that is sad...

i want to understand me... i want to understand you... so we can really share understanding and mean something we want to remember...

make sense to you?...

you may not want that, which is ok...

i wonder what you want...

(and do you know?)

i love days off :)

secrets?... what secrets? :)

too much candor?

this post perhaps belongs in the super secret blog called too much candor that i don't link here because, after all, it is super secret and you do not have access (except if you do and then you know how to find it when and if you want to), but here it will be anyway cuz, well, it is a message inspired by someone and sent to them, so it's not so super secret anymore, now is it?...

a stranger on facebook and youtube who i fb-friend and yt-follow has shared the story of her experience with grandma who had a massive 99% debilitating stroke recently and her advocacy and frustration with the health care system and without getting into further detail or introductory fanfare, it inspired this comment...

your experience with your grandma is very personal for me and i just want to thank you somewhat personally here (as personal as strangers on the internet get i suppose) as i am not looking to bring people who know me down with a public comment simply stating the fact that what happened to your grandma will likely happen to me someday and i can only hope i luck out with the kind of care i will receive, but more likely i will either just be found dead or i will rot (and be abused or neglected) in some people warehouse we call public hospitals or public nursing homes... i've worked hospitals all through this life and know the reality... simply, i have no family or anyone close... your grandma is blessed to have you and you are blessed to have family... the point of this message (for me) is to let you know because you might understand and somewhere inside the hope that someone might understand inspires my smile, but even more, to thank you for sharing your story and your grandma because that also gives me hope that love and family are real and maybe even still possible for me (sounds so pathetically emo and depressing... apologies for you do not know me well enough to know i am not depressed over the aloneness in this life i experience, just sad sometimes and still hopeful)... so thank you, seriously, thank you more than words can say :)

and holy crap what a flood of videos and comments and babbling followed that was not even recorded for blog entries but some of which can be found in sites i saw... you are now returned to your regularly scheduled stuff...

the fish market

was that too irreverent?... the title, i mean... well, you may have more of an opinion after realizing that this entry is presenting the response i sent to someone who reached out to me via the plenty of fish website... you may remember the profile and assessment and summary they put together from my answers to their questions... i wonder how much of that actually gets seen on their website... anyway, this was my response to the high-end call girl, i mean, classy lady (hey, she said sense of humor was as essential as breathing... wonder if she meant my sense of humor or somebody else's... irreverence is not just a great defense, it's also amusing sometimes... at least it is to me... anyway, as i was saying/writing before the parentheses interrupted) who responded to me today...

Finding what appears to be an email suggesting that you have reached out to me leads me to believe I ought to check my email more often... a sense of humor is the primary reason i am still alive, which is a suggestive way of agreeing with your first words... i am challenged by a lack of time for myself lately and in turn, a lack of sleep, so to say i am slacking on self-nurturing is an understatement, so whatever wisdom i may have suggests this is no time to start meeting new people... really, i consider myself a pathetic shell of the person i might have been had i not given everything away a few times in this life... still, i love to laugh at my pathos and don't cry over spilled milk (though give me a good tearjerker movie, but that's besides the point, he says slightly smirking)... you have, however, inspired my smile and i thank you for that and send you these words... erveryone is as equal as they want to be in my mind... i don't recall ever being on an actual date... i have not been formal in years, suits are in storage just north of niagara falls (slowly i turn) along with enough stuff to open an ebay store (which i might do one of these days if i ever take a day off)... i've been rich, i've been poor, i've been in between... i've enoyed all of it, though rich leaves much more time to play and i love to play (the child inside is alive and well and shall never give up on some dreams)... your 'life should be lived thirds' concept inspired this instant response (well, instant from my perspective) and interested in communicating with you... and i agree as i laugh at myself and say (to myself, you don't have to listen) - wonderful balance i've got to get better at one of these days... what?... not giving it all away every time? (self-mockery keeps me semi-sane, again, a comfortable smile that hopefully shows through in the words, but is noted just in case it doesn't)... and yes, i am told i write too much, share too much, give too much, even talk too much from time to time... most people seem to want bland and light, no matter what they say... writing is my personal pasttime... wanna see my blogs? (and if you are not laughing, oh well, i'm just not amusing you)...

i can be too serious too... so seriously, today i do not think that i am not the man you are looking for... that is my self-assessment of me, no judgment of you at all... that is not my decision, but just my guess... i am not trying to come on or turn you off, i am trying to be your friend... and yes, i have been told i am too honest too... i wonder if our senses of humor might be lifelong friends and never knew it... or tennis partners... do you play spades?... softball?... or perhaps you might just sell me a house someday...

wait, which part was the serious part again? :)

thank you for reaching out,
ric

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