Discern

a moment comes to a person, a moment in time where they see with eyes that they don't know they have, or when time shows them something lovely in something very common.  and fortune smiles for a moment, in a technological time, when you can raise the device in your hand and capture that moment, as close as it is in your eye, in your mind, and preserve it for someone else to see what for a moment you could see.  that's a beautiful moment, not to be traded cheap, not to be bandied about or bartered, for nothing that is thought to be needed can compare with the epiphanic moment of just...seeing.

i still owe five minutes of dance today, and i'm going to take it tonight, as my stomach is full of good food and i need to remember that lean days may be just on the flip of the calendar page.

it's a strange thing, this pain that comes and goes (still gone, by the way).  yesterday, as i was going into Aldi's, these two pretty sisters, older, asked me for assistance.  in their buggy they had a box that was large, flat and unwieldy, with the back door of one of their cars open and neither of them maneuvering all that well.  they asked if i'd give them a hand, and i lifted the box (awkward) and got it into the car without much effort.  i felt my back twinge a bit, but it didn't get to hurting and i went in and got my stuff done.

i say that to say that today my back is no worse than it was before i moved the box to their car.  this thing comes when it comes and it goes when it goes, and that simply does not strike me as 'just' arthritis.  but i'm not a doctor, and doctors aren't always right, but neither am i.

i went to the store today, got dish detergent and brownie mix and sweetener that i didn't get yesterday.  got a bag of chips too.  then i went to the meat market, got two center cut pork chops and a bit of hot ground italian sausage and half a pound of bacon.  i didn't do breakfast but i ate a hamburger and some fries for lunch and had the chops with some dirty rice and greens for dinner.  my stomach is hurting, with a feeling of being stuffed.  age is a weird thing; sometimes just enough can be too much.

i've tried to call my mother back, but no one is answering the phone.  i intend to cook dinner for them tomorrow, but not if i can't reach them, because they won't have anything out of the freezer for me to cook.  so i guess i'll just visit and worry about cooking for them another day.  i'll make coffee though, perhaps i will be early enough to just fix them breakfast and leave it at that.

watching clips of Holmes fight with Muhammad Ali.  it's amazing sometimes to think how evil men can be, how much truly despicable shit they can do when it comes to the possibility of making a few dollars.  what's more amazing is how much we allow despicable men to do when it means our egos might just be massaged one last time.  i'm thinking about my father as well.  i'm thinking about myself too.

i've been thinking about a character book.  a novel with just two people, so that it's all story and dialog.  i really have to start working on something commercial, much as that makes me want to gag.  i don't know what people like, exactly.  i know what a good  story is.  i've written good stories, but i am not a good marketer.  and because i don't try for a particular genre, i don't even know how to get to someone who can help me sell my stuff.  so i'm thinking of more conventional stories, more conventional storytelling.  maybe if i can write something dialog rich and story motivated, something that captures most of the emotions of this particular point in future history, i can get ahead of the curve.  we'll see.  no more on it until i know one way or another.

Syd and Joe are still fighting.  she asked to come here for a bit.  i told her she could, but that maybe she needed to talk things out with Joe.  had to say the responsible thing; too early in what will be too long a process to not learn how to work shit out.  but i don't know if she did; she said later she was going to Akron with a friend for a few days, apologized for bothering me with her mess.  i don't know what to say to that.

life is about to get very complicated.  but i am alive to be complicated, and i am aware, so my brain is working.  thank you, Father, for awareness and discernment.

layers of loss

quarter past 10 in the evening now.  it's just about time to shut it down.  the day turned out far more melancholy than i'd expected.  just emotionally, it was a ride.  i feel okay but i have on me at this point a sort of pall in regard to the coming month, a belief in a shortfall financially, no ability to balance things out beforehand, as i did last month, and just a general disgust as a result.  i'm looking for work; i've put in more applications today, i wait for calls for interviews.  i am just tired of the process, i guess.  i'm unable to make payments on my Paypal account, i have to come up with the funds for my AAA service, which i would dump but my dad gifted it to myself and my brother and he wants to keep his and i don't know how to extract myself without him losing service, so i'll find a way.  i'm really not feeling horrible in this but i'm trying to get more honest now. 

i danced for 15 minutes this morning.  it was nice, to put on some music and just move my body until i was sweating.  i'm going to try to incorporate more of that.  i showered and shaved and i got myself to the meeting.  i had a chance to speak some 12 step stuff to a woman who got there earlier, thinking we were still having our anniversary meeting today.  she'd been having some struggles and i was able to share experience, strength and hope, and that always makes me feel better.  the meeting was okay. 

i went to lunch with Lonnie, and we went to do some runs he had.  i got sad, listening to him toward the end, talking to his son about some tech stuff, talking to his wife on the other line about what dinner would be.  i realized the 'shut down' thing that i do, it's pretty pronounced.  i wasn't tired; i was just sad and pensive, and the knowledge of someone else having family happiness just makes me wish i'd made some different choices along the way.  i miss Syd.  i miss De'Ja again already.  I miss Rachel.  i miss people in my space, or i miss having space that is being shared by those i care about and for. 

one of those things that is sort of inexplicable...as i get older, the healing from loss actually constitutes another layer of loneliness.  someone should have told me this one was coming.  anyway, i'm thankful.  i saw my parents, i got more soda and paper towels.  we'll see what tomorrow brings when it gets here, and thank you, Jehovah, for allowing me to see clearly with my eyes open. 

the Reflection from Deep Space

...every day of life is a day of traveling.  we're all on a Journey, and we're all logging data, even if we're not all aware of it.  so when a Journey is done, when a journal is laid down for the last time, it's sad for someone, it's sad for the person who laid it down, even though they themselves may not know it.  i know it's a bit  cryptic for the start of the day, but i've got things to do and now is now.

i am aware of a level of...convenience, i guess is the way it feels.  i was going to say 'comfort', but that wouldn't be true.  there's not much comfortable in this, but things are developing their own flow.  i am up after a decent night's sleep.  coffee's ready to turn on, my prayer is said.  i'm going to shower and shave today; we have a meeting and i have to get to it.  haven't been to one in about a week and a half, and i'm not feeling squirrelly but still, routine is not bad.  i'm feeling okay, the pain has abated for another cycle. 

but i'm grateful, and i'm sad and i'm blessed.  and that is a heavy combination. 

Monday night, i guess, a young man was shot and killed at a gas station i frequent.  it is part of my route to my parent's house, they have a lower price than most other stations.  i guess he and two friends went to the station and the friends went inside and someone started shooting from a wooded area and he jumped out and got killed.  i know; nothing about it sounds random. 

the young man was one of my residents in my short tenure at CCA.  his name was Jerry Franklin (no anonymity to protect now).  he was 26, and he'll never be 27.  he was, in dealing with him, a good enough dude.  he didn't give me any trouble, though some of the other RA's would be gruff with him.  as with most of them, he acted like the big kid he was.  he played good basketball when allowed to go out for rec.  there was a kind of constant sadness about him, but not something he'd let you see.  mind you, i have no illusions about his 'innocence', i just have no judgment about his guilt.  he was in a facility for criminals in need of chemical-addiction rehabilitation.  likely meant he dabbled in some kind of dealing, definitely that he was caught up in 'the life' to some extent.  but 27 and black in this godforsaken city pretty much means you're dabbling in death shopping in a store with an excellent layaway plan. 

and most of the releases from the time i was there are back in the county jail.  and 3 months isn't enough time for me to sit like some Buddha-sized martyr and think how i failed all these young men, and i don't.  but it makes me think.  and it makes me know something's got to change. something's got to give. 

i'm grateful, i saw my 27 year old son a week ago, he spent part of 3 days with me, we shared food and coffee and television and words.  he is black and alive, and those are not automatically compatible conditions in this world.  i'm grateful i got to know Mr. Jerry Franklin for the time that he had left, and i hope he is blessed with peace for whatever was making him sad that he couldn't talk about.

Mr. Jerry L Franklin, one of my residents this year.  Peace, little brother.

from yesterday's Facebook post (all the relevance I have today)

I share my blessing with you today. On this date in 1988, I was given a new spiritual chance at life. I was 20 years old, and I had completely failed at the task of living. Gone far above and beyond the call of 'this spirit he wants to kill', as Funkadelic would say, I was at my bottom, what would soon be referred to as a crackhead, an alcoholic, a dopefiend, depressed, suicidal, homeless, eating from dumpsters, sleeping in doorways, 3 years out of high school. I wasn't unique: many in my generation were caught up in the drug thing, to one degree or another. My desire...was to die. God's plan was something very different. November 27, 1988 is my sobriety date; I have gone around the sun 29 times since that day, and while I am not where I would like to be, I thank Jehovah daily that I was not in charge of my expiration date. "Man proposes; God disposes". 
This isn't a request for congratulations, please don't. Honesty is therapy. There are times I wish I could still do what some do; there are times when I'm overwhelmed in an insane world where prejudice, racial tension, nationalism and bullshit have become the political norm rather than the thing to be fought against. The 'opioid epidemic' is claiming lives and setting up warring factions, foaming at the mouth about the value of a life, ANY life. The dimensions of just how huge an issue women's sexual abuse really is has become the latest monster growing in the public eye. You think I wouldn't love to be able to just...make my mind not feel that shit, for just a day or three?
The thing is, I am honored to be a recovering addict. I was the spoiled child who overdid this privilege and had it taken away from him. I now have the task of carrying a message of hope, not just to addicts and alcoholics, but to those who don't know that change is always possible. This is a world of false faces, pretend friends and instant fans. THIS world, this Socially-Mediated faerie tale. Easy to get lost; easy to lose your mind. But...who you are, what you feel, what you think, THAT YOU THINK, what you say, how you live, that you LOVE...those are the things that will bring about the change that you need. at least...that's what did it for me. 
I sit here, on my anniversary, in my grandparent's old house, hemmed up with gout, coming off of a recurring back pain, still mourning the end of a 'relationship'. I am 29 years older than the corpse I left swinging from a rafter in a garage on Gilbert St. in Columbus, Ohio, all those years ago. I've sponsored hundreds, probably. I've taken calls at all times of the day or night, when that was how you carried the message. I've done 12 step calls in drug houses and neighborhoods some wouldn't dare to walk in. I've sat in parking lots and driveways, listening to those who just needed an ear. I've been a friend to the best of my ability, and that has not always been successful. And...these are my blessings. I'm not special.. I'm an asshole of an amazing magnitude. I'm a Vibologist of the first rank. I am a child of my Creator. I am a recovering alcoholic and addict. And this is my 29th finished year around the sun, sober. 
I hope I have been some kind of blessing in your life. If I have not...I hope I get a chance to be before it's over. Aspire Higher, and thank you for me.

Early to Rise

trying to get this done early, as i am upstairs on the desktop and my right ankle is throbbing, but i'm not going to let up on it because i need to get shit done today.  or i need to at least get shit started today, such as it is. 

i slept not long, but i was in bed all day yesterday and i'm sure that had something to do with it.  i didn't drift under til after 3 in the morning, and i have been up since about 630 or so, though i didn't get out of bed til after seven.  i said a prayer, haven't gotten to my meds yet, but' i'm going to.  haven't read my meditation books yet, but i'm going to.  i just have to get some things done, and i'm in slow motion going about it.  only way. 

when i woke up, my ankles were still hurting, but that's not as bad as it could be.  there are people with gout and neuropathy who cannot walk at all, who are so swollen with the uric acid their feet are actually misshapen..  i think that's the fear sometimes, or a big part of it.  sickness, weakness, i've had degrees of them at one time or another throughout my life.  i think most of us do.  but knowing helplessness is coming in an increasingly dysfunctional and apathetic world...that scares the shit out of me.  its the thing i don't want to have to deal with. 

i'm going to get started again today.  i mean, i'm going to get back to working on me.  but i'm going to take it at the pace i'm able to.  i'm not going to bust my ass, but i'm going to work my brain.  i'm going to set an agenda for 2018, one that i will share here but i won't be talking about nor will i share it in person.  sharing it here is keeping myself honest.  sharing it other places is self-sabotage by my track record.  and it's time to change that record.  i also have to start looking at what i need to get back into school, and what i need to get funded for that.  it will likely have to be on-line school, so i have to find one that's going to get me what i need in the time i need to get it. 

i've got to start looking at this world as an opportunity rather than an obstacle, or i'm going to bury myself in this house.  it was never intended as the place i go to ground in; my grandparents LIVED here.  i feel an energy i can't relate to and i've called it ghosts, but it's the exact opposite, likely.  its the life that they seeded this place with.  and i have to tap into that.  i'm better than the bulllshit ive allowed for myself.  i believe that this morning. 

i thank Jehovah for this day and all that it contains, and it's time to get back to being in motion.

Percentages and First Meals

no plate pics today, sad to say.  i have to admit, the best plate in the world is the one you wait for, and i've waited for three days to be able to eat a plate of the food i fixed in my own home for my own thanksgiving dinner.  the portents of the future, road signs that are very obvious...when you are paying attention along the route.  i don't see a good ten years away for me, and that makes me extremely sad.  but it makes me determined as well.  i can't just fold up.  i can't just allow this to roll over me like some goddamned construction vehicle, paving the way for some new suburb where people don't give a damn about imagination, originality or creativity.  so, the time has come, the Walrus said...

today the back is doing much better, but as it the pattern, the gout flared, this time in both feet.  i still got some things done today.  opened in prayer, and fell back asleep quickly.  woke again, impressed that i'd managed to get up and turn on the coffee from yesterday.  i took my medicines and i pondered breakfast, but i'd decided i was going to just eat lunch, so i wouldn't be stuffing myself out of greed and anesthetic, but truly to be hungry and want what i put on my plate.  so around 12 i went slowly, hobblingly, into the kitchen and retrieved my dishes once again, and i heated my greens, and i put a plate together for the microwave, and i sat and had my thanksgiving lunch.  it was very good, but my greens weren't right; the cooking for one is just out of reach, but it will come to me.  no choice.

my father called and asked if i needed anything since he was at church, which is in this neighborhood.  i told him no, but he was welcome to visit if he wanted to.  we had a nice time, stress-free and even some laughter.  he didn't stay long, but that was okay.  it was nice to have him here, nice to have a table for him to sit at and ice water for him to drink.  it was warm enough for him, and i can't really ask too much more than that.  after he left, i did my second dose of medication for this gout flare up, and i've mostly been laying down letting the convalescing take place.  i called some people, texted with some people and eventually i put the food away in the freezer and fridge.  i had hoped Lonnie might make it by today, but he had quite a bit on his metaphoric plate, and i didn't really expect him with much enthusiasm.  just would have been nice.

my dreams have been a bit more graphic lately, i believe as a response to the videos i sleep to these days.  they are binaural, which is just tonal beneath consciousness, with music above the tonation and they last, the ones i pick, between 8-10 hours.  i sleep deeper with them, but lately the dreams have been vivid.  i dreamed last night, for instance, that Lonnie and I were doing some kind of home repair work to a house in Columbus, and that the resident (or owner, not sure which) didn't really want us doing the work.  we finished up and were walking away when we passed a building where i knew a CA meeting was going on and i asked if he'd mind if i went in, and i did and saw Chris and a woman named Delia that i know from Columbus there, and no one else that i knew.  and the meeting was pretty miserable.  Chris was trying to say something, and there were young people ridiculing her for being so old-fashioned and out of touch (side note: this evening Chris was complaining about a 13th step taking place between someone she sponsored (newcomer) and someone she knows (more sober time, obviously), and she was pretty angry about it while i find that par for the course anymore).  i got a chance to talk to Delia and that made me feel good, as we don't speak these days.  Her mom, a friend of mine also, passed in a pretty bad way, that messed Delia up pretty bad, and i was no support for her, being in the midst of a depression at the time.  there is no good timing for death, depression or grief, i'm finding.  but even in a dream, it was nice to talk to her. (another side note:  i woke this morning, got on Facebook, and found a friend request from Delia; had to check to make sure it wasn't some kind of hacker thing or spyware thing...it was legit, and very coincidental, eh?)\

i've been reading an Andrew Vachss book. one of my favorite authors, and one of my favorite people.  it's good to read, like i'm warming up. 

i feel okay inside.  i'm still thinking about Rachel, but i am not grieving her right now.  i don't think i'm done grieving her, but i do think i'm coming along, and i am grateful to Jehovah for that and so much more.  time to shut it down. 

Continuity

i fought it off as long as i could.  thought i was doing a pretty good job of it too.  but it caught me after  Thanksgiving, and Friday i was in misery.  that's why i didn't write.  early in the day it had began.  there is something to using Tylenol to control the pain, but it has to be every single day apparently.  miss a day, it's like not having the door guarded on a particular day and the thieves are always watching.  the pain takes advantage. 

there was no horrific beginning.  i got up yesterday with all the normal ritual; prayer, readings, medicines, coffee and water.  i decided i'd fix breakfast for De'ja and myself ( he did make in in, btw), and so i made a frittata and some toasted buns.  he had slept on the couch and I'd sent him upstairs to the bed, so i ate alone and got things a bit tidied and tried to take some of the heavier stuff to push this pain back.  but the hydrocodone doesn't really do shit with this kind of pain.  i spent most of the rest of the day in bed.  De'ja left to go to his grandparent's, to see a cousin and eventually to visit his sister.  i was down for the day.  i will probably be down for the day today also, but i have to get some stuff done. 

thing that's sucks so much about this is, when it flares, there is no 'comfortable' position to get into.  you find a spot where the pain is minimal, and you try not to move, and that is not restful at all, because you're on full alert the entire time.  in the evening, Lonnie brought me a loaf of bread i'd asked for, and i decided i had to get some other things done.  so i struggled from my bed, went to the kitchen, made a turkey sandwich, took more meds that would address the coming gout flare and some of the nerve flaring that comes with this, and so i could sleep.  when De'ja came back, he got me some ice water and a cup of Thera-flu (i'd been shaking with chills and fever the entire day also), i saw him out the door and i went back to sleep.  i'd woke up several times, but i'm just recently out of the bed.  i have to get my stuff done, because i don't have any energy to spare.  but i wanted to take time to update this.  sorry about yesterday..

the exhaustion of conversation

Thanksgiving.  a day of confusion, of hypocrisy and deception.  but a day when my family can gather and break bread, and i am always grateful for that. 

in the 12 step programs, they tend to call November 'gratitude month', on the basis of this being the month of Thanksgiving.  for me, every November since 1988 has been a gratitude month; if i am blessed with another 4 days of sobriety, i'll mark my 29th complete year of chemical abstinence.  i am grateful for the days, and if those days add up to 29 years, i'll be just as grateful.  but it's not something that i talk about so much as something i'm trying to live. 

so, life is not bad today.  honestly, i'm feeling pretty good, pretty fair physically.  but i'm noticing something about myself.  maybe this goes back to my recent...'thing'...in counseling as well.  i don't know, and i'm not going to keep doing CPR on that body either. 

what i'm noticing is that conversation is becoming exhausting for me.  i first noticed it on Saturday, when Syd and Joe were here. as i was trying to say something significant to them, wanting them to know that i wasn't sitting in judgment of them but wanted them to be okay, i found myself exhausted to the point of not being able to get the film shot that Syd was going to help me with.  and it was all in the conversation with them.  i just experienced the same thing with De'ja, who made it in for Thanksgiving.  trying to communicate with him about things going on in his life, and things going on in mine, and i'm tired as hell now, though i had a good nights sleep and woke to the prayers and readings and meditation and a shower and shaving and breakfast today.  now that i'm writing, i feel okay again, and we'll be heading north shortly, to get things ready for dinner at my parent's house.  but i need to take some time to reason this out;  am i really getting down into what's going on with me?  or is the exhaustion a defense against outright honesty? 

i'm going to update later, but for now, things to do. 

On the Verge...

i want to get this done because i just straight overlooked the last 2 days.  i've been cooking for tomorrow, trying to take my time because i have another bout of back pain coming on that i'm staving off best i can, and i'm trying to stay focused because the task that i have as far as cooking as grown somewhat since the beginning of the week.  but i still have no good excuse for neglecting this journey since Sunday, so i have to force myself to stay on track.

cooking has been pretty much it for the past two days.  i'm trying to do the bulk of it here because my parent's kitchen is minuscule and they have no real space to store the dishes once they're prepared.  and the days of my grandparents, of cooking everything the night before and the day of, are long gone.  it's funny, as i get older, i slow down and i realize that this is not something i'm going to do for much longer.  i don't mind; cooking is a meditation for me, a relaxing event that i enjoy immensely.  but as i cook, i'm setting some things aside for my own home, because i still have to eat as well, and i realize...cooking just for myself, i could have done it all in one day.

details.  i did talk to De'Ja finally, such as texting can be considered 'talk'.  he is going through shit still, but i didn't try to fix anything for him.  i don't know if he's coming this way or not, to be honest.  i only know i gave him the address and told him he's welcome.  so he'll do what he'll do.  Syd is coming along, she and Joe are cooking at their apartment.  I suppose i'll go and grab a plate.  this is all new, but it's not the worst thing in the world.  it's just new. don't know what their mother is doing, she says she's going to her 'best friend's' house for thanksgiving, but i know she's grown and will be okay. 

i have done the sweet potato casserole for my mom's dinner, and the greens are done and wonderful.  the pasta salad is done, save but the inclusion of olives.  i'm working on the dressing now and will take care of the turkey this afternoon.  i have my own greens done, have macaroni boiled for mac and cheese and cheese shredded as well, and my dressing is in the oven with the pan for the house.  i have two cream cheese pies in the fridge and one in the freezer, and i'm doing my sweet potato pies this evening as well.  right now, i'm waiting to go with Lonnie to his appointment to get bloodwork done, and i'm going to grab a few needed things while i'm out. 

i've slept well enough considering the pressure in my back, i've said my prayers, did my readings, took my insulin and pills.  i'm going to change clothes and get myself together to roll out when it's time.  i feel good.  i miss Rachel, but i'm okay.  i guess that's what i'm into right now.  no great lessons, no big revelations.  just grateful to Jehovah for the provisions of the day and thankful to have a place to rest when i need to.  i'm gone. 

Stupid and Contagious

Sunday morning, and i'm tired as hell.  i was awakened this morning by someone knocking on the front door, asking for my cousin Melvin.  by morning, i mean 430 in the morning.  that has only so many meanings in this world that i live in.  one, dope, two, money, three, trouble.  and none of them are exclusive of each other.  so i woke the hell up.  and i was on alert from that point forward.  i gave no information, other than the fact that he doesn't live here anymore.  but the person (or persons) came back an hour later, as if that would be sufficient to make the house occupant think it was no longer trouble. 

i don't really care, as i am not my cousin and he doesn't live here.  and the people i owe money to just call incessantly; they don't come pounding on doors at 5 in the a.m.  but it's still something to be mindful of.  like, the person said his name was Tyrone (logging details, just so it can be documented here.  there is someone named Tyrone, around my cousin's age, who was just released from the city jail about 3 days ago.  i check these things.  but this is a holiday season, and his claim to be a cousin could be true as well.  nonetheless, it is not an appropriate hour for visiting. 

to make matters worse, of course, i sleep in the front room, right off the front door.  so it's not the safest feeling in the world.  but it is what i have to deal with at this time.

i made the most of it so far.  i said my prayers and turned on my coffee maker.  i read my meditation book but still need to get into some scriptures.  i got my broth simmering and cut up my greens.  i had a donut and half a turkey sandwich this morning.  i've taken my medicines and my sugar was 104, which is very good.  i'm cooking the greens now.  i have such a problem with proportion.  i can't really tell if i have enough for my parent's house, for Lonnie, for Syd and for me, and to put aside a serving for TP, who i really need to make sure gets some.  i'm sure there are in my head; it was a garbage bag full of greens, after all.  but in my heart, it's never enough.  so strange. 

i did shower and shave last night, and now i'm journaling so i can get this shit over to the meeting.  i have what i want to wear for the video shoot today.  gonna do it in the living room, going to keep it simple as i can.  i don't even know what dinner is going to be today, as i haven't made preparations to that effect.  but i'm not worried; i am cared for.

i have to check on my mother.  my father has made other plans for Thursday.  i think it's financial for him, but it's cool either way.  i told my mother that i was going to cook regardless, that i am preparing what i'm cooking now for more than one house.  but i don't understand sometimes.  when we were kids, the holidays were always tumultuous.  and there was always the separation of family, because mom didn't celebrate anything and dad didn't want to NOT commemorate those events.  so he would go, regardless of whether mom cooked something 'special' in an attempt to keep the family home. 

i don't care about Thanksgiving, to be honest.  it means nothing; as an event it is an epoch, marking the onset of duplicity, disease and genocide of the original occupants of this continent.  it is nothing more than an assigned time to sit down as a family and break bread.  and we do that more than once a year, so i don't mind it.  but i don't want stress and would rather stay home and do my own thing if that is the agenda to come.  but we'll see. 

it's almost 11.  gonna leave about noon, wait for Matt to show up so he can get the meeting stuff and i can help him set up.  I am grateful for the day, I thank God for keeping me safe, and i will rest tonight. 

Continuity

...you go back far enough, you see things in the clarity of hindsight with some honesty poured all over those memories, and you start to get a clearer picture of how you ended up where you are.  that's not always a bad thing, either.  i think as humans we tend to take reflection and introspection as something of a penance, rather than lessons in mapmaking accuracy.  can't know where i'm going if i can't remember what road i'm on, can i?  and i hate surprises that can be avoided.  i really do.  so i keep looking, and keep remembering.  and in the fullness of its own time, things change, because that is the one constant in the entire universe. 

so, today i shopped.  i got more stuff that i need for my part of the dinner on thursday approaching.  i got things also that i need for the video i've been waiting the past four months to be ready to shoot.  it makes me kind of sad, going through the old pictures, remembering when i was happy, even if it wasn't the happiness i thought it was.  it's not bad now.  I still miss Rachel a lot, and i am still not real cool with the notion of getting used to being alone.  but it is better than staring endlessly into the abyss and wishing for the courage to jump.  i mean, it's Saturday night now.  earlier, i watched the rest of the movie that cut off on me yesterday, and i watched an old Gamera movie.  i enjoyed them both.  but it would have been nice to have had company for that.  but wishing is just another way of being ungrateful.  i had movies to watch.  i had money to get the things i needed.  i was blessed by a friend with money yesterday, with coffee from another friend.  i have the things i need for this video shoot.  do i anticipate wealth and prosperity from a home recorded song?  no.  do i expect to make something that will be product for future sales of my works?  yes, and then some.  and more to the point; i expect closure. 

again, it's not so bad right now.  i am working on my sweet potatoes for my pie.  i have greens to finish cleaning so i can get them on in the morning.  i have shot some footage in my kitchen with some pieces that i need for the video.  i've just finished the editing on some photos.  i put in an application earlier and i'm about to investigate one that i should have been contacted about before now.  the day is full, and i am not complaining at all. but at the same time, if i deny that i feel what i feel, i'm sowing crops with weed spoor, to choke off the good vegetation at the next harvest. 

I saw AG today, haven't seen her in a minute.  not many words exchanged, but it was nice to see someone happy to see me.  i found an integral prop that i need for tomorrow, a chess board, and i also figured a way around the phones that i need.  so, things come together, just like sometimes things fall apart.  Yeats forgot to mention that part. 

i've eaten today, i'm about to shave my face and head, and i'm going to take a shower tonight.  i'm going to go to the meeting if for no other reason than to drop off this shit, and i'm going to keep it rolling.  but again, let me not lose sight of the lesson learned over the past week.  i am created, and i am loved as a child by my Father.  i am blessed, and my job is to share those blessings as best i can with those who need them.  and that is what makes this life worth living. 

Where Was I when God Created the World?

Start with a bluesman who could be my spiritual godfather, back in the late 60's, early 70's, sitting and howling the blues...in a pair of size 16 Chuck Taylor Converses.  it doesn't get any cooler than that in this reality.

end with the gratitude that i feel for the people in my life, the ones in the middle of my madness as well as those on the perimeter who have not gone so far that they can't reach in when they choose to.  i have to learn how to be grateful even when i'm not.  i have to learn to be thankful for all of the provisions from God, because what seems bad to my sense of want may be great in a picture so large i can't even see the signature.  and i have to grow up enough to remember that.

today was a day of thinking.  i woke up thinking.  i said my prayers this morning thinking.  i was thinking about getting rid of my Sunday meeting, about what it means when you adjust to the absence of souls and spirits in your world.  what it means when you know you've opened your mouth and said something that you truly wish you could erase...and how many times your mouth has done that, and how not once have you been able to manifest an eraser to remove those moments.

it has to mean something.

so i had breakfast, oatmeal and 2 boiled eggs.  i went to the second floor and put in one application.  i had plans for the day, and i wanted to face it without fear, without hesitation.  i dressed and put clothes away, i made my way to counseling.  i stopped at a store first, as i still need a chess set, but i didn't find one that i could use as i wanted to.  it's okay, life goes on. 

counseling was sad today.  i made my counselor upset as i asked for a physical response that would have, in my estimation, balanced the book between us again.  i am so stupid, i have to stop talking before my brain engages fully.  i guess perhaps i'm still compromised, it being November and all.  but i'm still moving, the depression hasn't laid me out yet.  and my counselor, VF, my benefactor and my safe haven for the past decade, gave me a bag of coffee for my anniversary.  she never forgets, and how can you ever be grateful enough for that?  i don't think you can.

i went to the store and got greens after that, and i went to my parent's house.  things are going on, and i am concerned.  they had no trash bags.  not one.  they also had very little food.  i mean the staples, like lunch meat and butter and stuff.  i looked several times before i decided to make them a roast beef hash and eggs for their brunch.  which told me they'd been eating off the roast i made on Monday all week, pretty much.  and no trash bags.  i took the trash out anyway, as it was full to running over, i washed dishes after i fixed their food and i made my way home, stopping at the BK for lunch.  i didn't do much else with the evening, nothing in fact.  tomorrow i go get more greens and some other accouterments, and i start cleaning greens and getting them ready for the cooking.  maybe Syd will make it Sunday, maybe she won't, but i'm going to start cooking on Sunday regardless. 

thing is, the picture of Howlin' Wolf.  I didn't grow up on the blues, but i did.  i grew up on mostly doo-wop, my dad's music.  but my mom's dad and HIS dad used to sit on the porch down in the Monkey's Nest, the area of Youngstown where they relegated their black citizens to, that is now torn down and owned by YSU, they'd sit out and play some of that old country blues, and we grandkids would sit on the porch and listen to them.  so i had the seed in my soul and it has grown.  i love some good blues now, and i try from time to time to write poetry that is blues inflected.  but Wolf.  first of all, that's my spirit.  second, he was a guy who did it his way, who did it without expecting anyone to help him, sad and scared most of his childhood, and just strong enough and blessed enough to keep it moving anyway.  he left a mark on the world, but in the end, his mother couldn't ever give him the love he needed, and he died without her blessing, or her heart for that matter. 

I am a writer.  i'm a poet.  i'm a facilitator and a composer. have some singer in me.  i am a person who loves to create.  i have done a lot of this life the way i wanted to, which is to say, i've made choices and tried to live by them, owning the consequences and not laying a lot of blame  on anyone else when things go wrong, even sharing a lot of the bounties when things go right.  but i tend to wander.  i tend to forget.  i don't ever have to try to explain God's will to anyone else.  i don't have to do anything but stay obedient and shut the fuck up with my whining.  and when i do that, i often find that i've got everything i need at any given time.  and that's a good feeling. 

i have a bed, a comforter and pillows.  it's warm enough in here.  my belly, gassy as it is, is full of chili for the second day.  i have running water, electricity which allows me to log this day of the Journey, and gas to cook and heat with.  my mind works, nothing is hurting particularly bad today, and i fed my parents, saw my counselor and talked to my friend and my daughter.  what could be better than that?  and if i lose sight of that, then i lose sight of everything. and that is when the blessing becomes forfeit, it seems to me. 

i am going to work on seeing what i have, using what i've got and doing what i can, because that is what i have in front of me at any given time.  and i thank Jehovah for reminding me that pride can often look like humility when my mind gets too full of itself. 

Little Late...

sometimes, its said better by someone else.

Thursday evening.  it's been a good enough day, and i'm grateful for it.  i didn't do much today, but i didn't do much by choice.  i'm okay with that.  i did some cleaning, did some shopping, but mostly i chilled, and it wasn't bad.  i don't think i need to do more of it, i just need to appreciate it when i am in recline mode.  i think that's the key.

in fact, i slept in today.  i didn't get up until about 8am.  when i did, i slowly got the day started.  i said my prayers, read my stuff and took my meds.  i had a breakfast sandwich.  and i thought...i've been running for the past 4 days, sunday through wednesday.  i think i'm okay taking a day for myself...i think that's going to be all right.  so i dialed down to about 2 internally.  i did a quick cleaning on things that needed it, washed a load of clothes and two coats that have been laying around here, gave the man's coat to my brother and will find someone who needs the woman's coat.  i went to the store for stuff for chili and got lunch from my food cart.  i tried again to watch a movie, but it's not really happening.  i guess i know that it's not the main event in my life right now.  but i watched most of one until my Roku gave out.  i have to get Time/Warner to check on this wifi box, cause it doesn't seem to hold a steady output of wireless connection.  

i talked to my brother, to my mom and dad.  i talked to Syd, who should make an effort to come by on Sunday to learn how to cook greens.  i have a plan for tomorrow; i'm going to go to counseling, and i'm going to go to Sav-a-Lot after to get what greens i can there.  i'm going to see my parents, and see if my aunt can use this coat.  i'm going to come home and clean these greens and get them cut up and into the fridge.  gonna get this turkey from the freezer into the fridge to thaw as well.  i'm going to start my prep and keep working on it.  and i'm going to finish some things that need to be finished, like this assessment shit from Ohio Means Jobs, its bullshit but i'm going to get it done, see if i can get those motherfuckers to help me find work.  i've got chili and cornbread for dinner tomorrow, i'm going to repeat the greens search on saturday and sunday i'll be cooking.  

i am okay for now.  and i am thankful to Jehovah for a restful day. i didn't even have an idea for writing today, but i did a pretty cool piece that i posted, just still sorting through thoughts and memories, i guess.

LOST FAITH

lost faith in forever,
words are like wind,
require dead leaves
and bare branches
to bend to
reveal the substance
that is unseen within.
lost faith in forever,
she as a religion
meant me as the devil
worshiping reflection,
fallen from a heaven
ripe for insurrection
because belief
pulls in too many directions.
lost faith in forever,
and she walked away
to some new destination,
some newly formed fate
and alone in a garden
dead in the first snow
i buried love's cold body
and learned how to hate.
lost faith in forever,
fuck poets and priests,
liars and deceivers,
all marked by the beast,
promises of laughter,
broken with elan,
this skin now a bag
for the madness of man.

and perhaps in dreams
Heartbreak appears more clever,
but waking with screams
stole my faith
in forever.

Timothy Z, 2017

Walking Day

I missed yesterday.  I spent most of the day running, back and forth to my parent's house twice,and once to my urologist referral appointment.  i mostly wanted to decompress, and didn't get to writing in the Journey.  but it was a good enough day.  i notice my frustration with my parents is rather acute lately, something i need to work on.  they are just being who they are now, who they can be.  i worry about them, and i worry a lot about my dad, who seems to be seeking a fountain of youth.  he is driving at night, somewhat, and he is joking with his cronies and yes-people about his minor collisions, which apparently are happening more frequently.  i don't know what else to do, except to be ready.  he's also having some difficulty managing his finances, and he doesn't want anyone to know, but it's got him pretty frustrated.  i try to stay available, but i can't help with what i am not given leeway to help with. 

their furnace went out on monday night, apparently.  i can't help but wonder how much of it is due to my father not knowing how central air really is supposed to work, simply jacking the thermostat to where it will do immediately what he wants it to do right that moment, and burning out from the improper settings.  i don't know for sure.  but it is not an old furnace, and it is having to be replaced.  that's happening right now.  i have to go back to my parent's house again, my mother's C-Pap machine is giving her a message about extracting and re-inserting the SD card, and she still doesn't know what that is, and she still won't ask her sister, who would know what it is. i'm sure that's part of it for me as well.  there are people closer than me, capable of some of this stuff.  but the time is coming, and may have already come, when i'll be set in my ways too, resistant to change for fear of a world that i don't comprehend. 

anyway, the urologist checked the plumbing (first time for some of it...yeeeeesh...) and everything seems in order.  i go back in a month to have an internal scope of my bladder, to see if there's anything going on down there.  but things are okay at the moment.  i have an actual awareness of the lack of discomfort and pain, that's a new awareness.  when you're young, or when i was, you'd get sick, and you'd know you were sick because it was all you could think of.  but the wellness came gradually, and before long you'd kind of forgotten you were even sick, because you were off and running and doing your thing as usual.  now, i'm pretty tuned in to my back NOT hurting, my feet NOT hurting, my legs NOT hurting.  i'm very aware of NOT having to piss sixteen times at night, NOT feeling so bad i don't want to get out of bed, don't want to eat, don't want to move at all.  more to the point, i'm hyper-aware that this is a respite, a moment between storms.  the sky is clear but the air is thick.  and the choice is to accept it or don't.  no in-between.  i have to live with that.  and i'm okay with it for now...because i'm not hurting at the moment. 

Sherese from the meeting texted me and asked if i'd like to walk before the meeting today.  i'm going to leave just before 1030, get the meeting set up and then go for a half-hour walk.  been a bit.  need to get back into it.  i'm glad she texted, and i'm grateful for the day. 

Made it to 8

evening now, and the day was not a total waste.  it wasn't a waste at all, to be honest.  worst part, there was nothing on indeed.com or the vindy jobs section, so i didn't get an application in today.  i tried to just do a search engine inquiry into work from home positions, but there is mostly scam information to lure you into some kind of shenanigans you don't really want to be into.  i'm going to check again in a bit, as i have to do some getting ready for tomorrow this evening.  i have my referral appointment with the urologist first thing in the morning, and i won't have time for shower or shave, and i damn sure ain't rushing the shave thing again, don't want to cut another divot out of my head.  so i'm getting both those things in this evening. 

but the day itself, i am grateful for, and i'm glad that i can feel that again.  i went to a late breakfast/early lunch with Syd, and we had a chance to talk a bit.  i find myself talking mostly when we are around each other, but that's a parent thing, i think, and i just want her to be okay.  we went to Eat n Park in Austintown, and then to K-Mart as i'm still trying to find a remote control and got some bags for my vacuum cleaner instead.  after i took her home i went to my parent's house and starting working on our dinner for the night.  i'd taken out a London broil and a regular small beef chuck roast and i stacked them with seasoning and onions on the bottom, between layers and on top, and close-tented foil to keep everything inside and popped it in the oven.  the chuck roast was still mostly frozen, so i needed a slow oven roast in foil for tenderness.  it worked well, and i did smashed potatoes with them and a veggie mix that had zucchini and green beans and carrots and some peppers and i added peas to it to fill it out. 

before i got a chance to finish cooking Lonnie called me and asked if i could do him a favor and pick up his father's meds from the VA and get them to the assisted living facility he's in.  i finished smashing the potatoes and took the trip in my mom's car.  i'm always happy to do something for my friends, especially the ones who are constantly there for me.  thanks to Lonnie my Roku is online and I can watch movies now when i want to.  that makes me extremely happy, not that i'm all into TV at this time, but you like to have choices.  anyway, i got the meds, got them delivered, got home, made the veggies, sliced the roast and the broil and made a gravy from the drippings and let the beef simmer in the gravy so it would be fall apart tender for my parents.  i had a plate and talked with my mom a bit, and then i came home. 

i do need to make money, that is true.  i had a job at Amazon that i liked, but i was going through physical changes as well.  there's no point pretending it's all on my Dad or all on Syd.  i was going through some of the same changes i went through at CCA, with the neuropathy and the gout.  at CCA i wasn't up to the physical challenge of one side, i didn't like the notion of having to be a hard-ass to the residents, and i didn't have much motivation to do any more than what i was allowed to do.  i saw that it wasn't a fit, and while i should have stuck with the two week notice, i was gone after 3 months.  both those situations are my responsibility; i must take ownership for them.  i have to find work in spite of them, and that means i have to continue the search until the person who is going to see me for what and who i am, and for what i am truly capable of bringing to the table, sees my resume and decides to take a chance.  and until then, i will maintain as best i can.  i am grateful, right now.  a day of family, of food, of being in a good space with the people i came into this world with.  take the victory that is yours, and be blessed with the knowledge that it was not guaranteed.  thank you, Father.

best early...

this is starting like a continuation of yesterday, so for continuities sake, best to make an entry now.  it's early, but i was up earlier.  i feel a bit more grateful, but not much more hopeful.  thing is, i believe in my heart that when i am ready God is going to open the door that will bring what i truly need to my life job-wise.  but in the meantime, i don't know if i need to alter my resume, if i need to start applying at more places or what.  the focus on finances is never a great road to travel down for me, not because i live with my head in some fantasy cloud of 'not needing money', but because i know my employment history reads like a 'whodunit' novel, and most employers want consistency, not ability, to allow them to make their decision.  but, i prayed this morning, i slept well enough last night, i ate breakfast, i may go to lunch with Syd this afternoon, i'm cooking for my parents this evening.  i have an appointment scheduled with an urologist tomorrow morning to see if there is something more to the oncoming backache/gout/neuropathy flare that is a regular part of my monthly living now.  in short, the things that are on my plate will be dealt with, i'm not going back to bed to bury my head and wish for something more custom cut.

an inventory:  i have food in my freezer to cook.  i have heat coming through my register.  i have clean clothes, water from my faucets.  i have gas in my car and money for gas.  i have a few dollars in the bank.  my eyes work, not as well as they used to, but nothing else does either, so there's that.  for now i'm pretty pain free.  can't ask much more than that.  i am grateful, in reflection, as i know there are those who are not so blessed.  i just want to work, find someone that will hire me to work from home to do customer service and/or tech support.  i would be great at that.  but we'll see what Jehovah has in store, and i thank Him for what he's blessed me with thus far in the day. 

Begins With Anger

Well, it's begun. November is officially here for me, by way of selfishness, childishness, pettiness and bullshit, as well as judgmental behavior by me that needs work. I am tired of resisting and I need a moment to breathe,  and I seriously doubt that will be afforded me. And it's my own fault. Let the Devil ride, he'said gonna want to drive as the old folks say.

Today is rough, knew it would be. I slept well, got my prayer in waking and did my meditation and took my meds. I had a good breakfast. I worked on a new piece, thinking about getting down to business with my business. I put clothes away, I wrote two poems, cleaned my kitchen, even made my bed. I was just trying to keep rolling, knowing things were starting to change. And then it started to turn.

I got a 'no-reply' email from a company i'd just applied at yesterday, another rejection. Positions I would be perfect for, trying to apply within my abilities, work from home, customer service. But I am being turned down everytime. Brought me straight down. Then i hear from a guy I used to sponsor who wants to know about supplies. One more person who bailed and has no recollection of where he'he's from or where he used to be. On my way south I called to see about what my mom took out for me to cook, but it was nothing. And the turkeys that were supposed to be on the porch til I got there taken downstairs by my father. And I have to retrieve them and get them to my freezer so they can keep til Thanksgiving.

Add to that these...children...at this meeting bitch and bail, with no propriety sense, no focus on what's best for the meeting. They only care about themselves. The problems the meeting is having with the owners of the club, the receipts we'really not getting...but the solution is to bail.

Right now i'm angry, I'm bummed, I'm tired of struggle and lack. I'm tired of waiting to hurt and crawling around and hoping for better while waiting for worse.


I don't believe I am grateful enough today. I'very got to do better than this.

right sized monsters

i didn't write yesterday, because my mind was sorting out things.  sometimes that's necessary, a good thing.  as i've said so often, i believe in self-disclosure.  before anyone else goes under the bus, i have thrown myself under it, because that lends perspective to someone else's situation.  you know, it's harder to laugh at someone else maliciously when you learn to not take yourself so seriously, to laugh at your own foibles.  no one being perfect , and all that shit.  and for the most part, it works.  but sometimes, it still takes some work.  and sometimes, the focus goes completely.  and that's when the contemplation becomes a requisite.

yesterday...a bitter cold day.  coldest this year so far, i'm pretty sure, as we had a pretty mild winter last year, starting this year out.  it was friday, and i started it well enough.  got up with prayer and readings and medicines, got up with a need to prepare for the day and the weekend.  i had no definitive plans; a lunch thing with a friend from the meetings, visit my parents and see how they were doing, and counseling.

first thing was how i cut my head during my mornin grooming.  i was shaving my head and i don't know how i did it, but i cut a good gash into my scalp.  it pissed me off more than hurt, as i tend to bleed a lot from scalp cuts.  i got it under control but it meant a shitty job shaving the rest of my head.  that was on thursday.  friday, it was not bleeding, it had started scabbing over, but i am a scab picker, don't know why, just my thing.  and it is always best, as a diabetic, to be aware of the status of your cuts and scabs, as you are more prone to infection than others.  but, i was still feeling pretty good.  i'd done some reflecting, i was in a good place philosophically, and i was ready for the day.  i got some easy breakfast since i had a lunch thing planned and i went to counseling.  and that was my first moment.

it was a good session, but i put my foot way into my mouth by the end of it.  any reason for why would just be a bullshit excuse, but the point is i made a statement about my counselor that i should not have, in a flirtatious way.  again, my bullshit would be to say 'it wasn't intended that way', but the truth is, it shouldn't have come out of my mouth that way.  a person is a friend and looks out for your best interest.  you care about and for that person's well being, and they care about yours and therefore they are a friend, regardless of anything else.  we've had some dynamic sessions, deeper than many people would be willing to go as a client, deeper than many people would be willing to travel as a counselor.  but there are boundaries, and i saw that a depth had been reached and i tried to come up from it and i crossed a line and i feel (present tense still) really bad about it.  i apologized and it was accepted, but it was through text and it was later and it shouldn't have taken me that much contemplation to gather that.  that's all i can say on that.

the next thing was at my parent's house.  my lunch thing didn't happen, so i decided i would make breakfast for my mother, and some extra in case my dad decided to eat.  my mother, as i worked on her food, started asking questions about my teeth, or lack thereof.  i felt it was going to a not-good place, but i told her my reasons for not having dentures, for getting my teeth pulled and why i never bothered trying to get used to the replacements.  i am a person who has come to believe in being honest with self.  i made some bad, foolish decisions when i first got sober about not going to the dentist for fear of the Novocaine making me feel like i was high on freebase cocaine, and i made some foolish decisions when i got my false teeth about not wanting any more mouth pain, as i'd endured it for years and years as my teeth fell out slowly.  you pay for what you get, you own what you pay for, and everything you own comes home to you eventually.  Stephen King.  anyway, my mom had found a way to twist the fact of myself and my older brother having dental issues to it being her fault for being a bad mother, and i kind of lost it.  not yelling, but sort of preaching at her about why i don't get into things like that with her, and trying to add perspective (yes) on the fact that everyone i know has had a troublesome childhood, and that she can't be responsible for everything in the world.  i left feeling irritated with myself (more) and frustrated.  later, at home, one of my social media friends was talking about a problem she was having with a guy who'd been in her life, and again i went into a tirade that was just farther than it needed to go.  and it made me wonder, why am i having so much trouble with my boundaries?

it deserves a better answer than i have right now.  it's november, it's cold, i'm alone in this house, i am having trouble finding work, my money is short as fuck, my parents aren't doing as well as they could be healthwise, as well as they should be financially due to my dad losing track of his spending memory.  my daughter is expecting her first child first thing after high school.  thanksgiving is coming, i have no living room furniture, its cold and drafty in this house, and so on, and so on and scooby dooby doo.  and none of those things are lies, and none of those things are excuses.  because something of a matching nature is always happening in the life of the living individual.  so what's the issue?

i don't have an answer to that right now.

i look at this world and i think, it's such a bad place to be right now, this point in history.  it's getting complicated too.  there are women coming out of everywhere, speaking on their sexual abuses, naming their abusers.  men also.  there are huge changes that are going to come from this point in time.  a part of me is saddened because it is very believable, despite the fact that it could just be a new bandwagon.  but most of the women i know in my life, most of the women i've known, are and were victims of some form of sexual abuse, from molestation to rape to sexual terrorism.  so what's not to believe?  men are pigs and assholes, by and large.  the world sits in the grasp of obvious idiots and madmen, waiting for the right combination of bullshit to use as an excuse to launch missiles of death and sickness across the globe.  after all these years, the public still doesn't get that there's no way for any human being to win an all-out nuclear war, and you have to wonder why don't they get it?

the picture up top was taken this summer in the parking lot of CCA.  i may have posted it before.  it's a grasshopper, rode across the city with me to my job.  i took it with my phone; it looked as if it were some giant monster flying overhead.  that's perspective.  things have a size and scale, and when you get too close to some things they are gigantic and scary, and if you move far away from things they look insignificant and fragile.  but likely neither of those things are completely true.  things just are; and all we can really do about them is let them be what they are, see them honestly, no matter how the glass or the lens might warp them, not lie to ourselves about them, and then move on.

i'm cold.  i'm weary.  but i'm grateful. i've shelter that some don't have; i've food that many don't have, and i've resources that would make some believe i am rich.  my gratitude is to God that i recognize these truths and can return to being right sized again, and in fact believe i already have.  i'm done.

Applesauce...

if you want to, you can adjust and/or adapt to anything.  but who really wants to do that? 

i would say this has been a good day for me.  it has not been exceptionally memorable, though it goes without saying it didn't have to be.  it wasn't one hundred percent pain free, but it was 85 percent painless, and i can live with that, since i have no choice and i'm sure the days are coming when i'll look to 85 percent less pain as a heavenly orgasm. 

no, i think today was better because i started to get a grip again.  i started to see that there is work ahead of me, and that i am the person for the work that has to be done.  i started to see me getting better, i guess, and that's not a bad thing. 

hence, the apples. 

i slept good last night, but i still woke rather early today.  i don't know why; just passed out early and compensated with my wake up time, i suppose.  but i did wake up, and i turned on my coffee pot and i said my prayer.  i took my time this morning. last night i'd worked on a beat and a guitar part and had scribbled some lines of what seemed right for the poem, and i wanted to put more work in on it today.  i said my prayer and i had my coffee and water and took my medicine and insulin and i read my bible and my meditation book and i went up to the office and did some more recording and some more writing and got a piece finished that i wanted to get done, mostly.  it needs some tweaking on a remix and maybe i'll run the lines over again, i don't know.  i'm tired of perfection.  i need to DO something with the stuff i'm putting together.  but i'm getting ahead of myself. 

i also put in a couple applications and i decided to get myself together today.  so i groomed, cut a nice slice in my scalp somehow in the process, and i showered.  i had/have an ache in the instep of my left food, but was okay walking and everywhere else felt fairly normal.  so i wanted to get out of the house for a bit.  i went to pay the meeting rent and gather more information, so i could gauge whether i needed to suggest postponing our anniversary meeting or not.  on the strength of how they have no idea what they're actually doing at the clinic, it seems the best idea.  but the rent is paid for september and october.  i also went to the library to get some reading stuff, as i've been re-reading segments of "Hannibal" for the past two months.  i started reading Andrew Vachss' 'Blossom' as i sat at the library as Lonnie suggested we grab lunch when he took his break.  we went and got pizza and wedding soup, nice.  i went to the meat market, got two center cut pork chops and a NY strip steak, got the large bag of flour that i DIDN'T want from Sav-a-Lot, and i came home.  i cut up the hot peppers i got from my uncle, splashed them with some olive oil and salt and put them in the freezer.  i got the chops seasoned and bagged and the steak in a marinade.  i decided on a burger and soup for dinner and that's what i had. 

so i had a day of responsibility, a day of shopping, some self-care (and self-mutilation, sadly😢), a day of preparation, a day of poetry and music, a day of friendship, a day of gratitude. 

and a day of making applesauce. 

there's a point to that. gonna wrap it up with that point, i believe.

my uncle Kenny buys stuff.  everyone carries a small part of the legacy they were born into.  he is a traveler to auctions and flea markets.  he does hoard, though he doesn't think so and i don't care.  but he also buys fruits and vegetables, and he shares them with his family.  i got some peppers from my mother that he'd left her, and an apple that i ate that day, think it was yesterday.  anyway, he came by last night while i was upstairs in my office and he had peppers for me, as well as some apples in the back of his van.  the apples in the picture above.  they were pretty beat up; they're not apples that anyone would pick for eating.  huge bruises and blemishes, discoloration.  apples from apple trees, fallen to the ground or just bashed together in the bushels.  i took them anyway.  left em on my table with the peppers overnight.  and i just cut up the peppers and did what i said i did with them.  but the apples?

a song went through my head as i looked at them, a song i wrote for my poetry group when i was living in Columbus, song called "Applesauce" appropriately enough.  the hook of it went, 'the moons the only audience, so there's a light applause; if we were made of apples we'd be making applesauce'.  sex song, obviously.  but things of spirit are born in flesh, right? 

i realized, looking at those sad apples, that they looked like i felt.  they looked worn out, beat up, beat down.  they looked overwhelmed and overwrought.  they looked weary.  and no one would choose them, they weren't pretty, they weren't standard for apples.  but God doesn't care about all that.  God knows an ugly apple can make a wonderful pie, or turnover...or applesauce. 

so i found a recipe, then tossed it aside and did my thing.  and now i have applesauce cooling where several discolored and bruised apples once sat.  it's a lovely applesauce, and i am honored to have made it.  and i'm blessed to know that i could make it.  because it showed me that i am feeling better, about me, about life.  and it is november, and i'm doing better for now.  and that's the miracle of it.  apples don't need to be perfect to make cider or cobbler... or applesauce.  they just have to be apples.

i'm grateful to my Heavenly Father for apples and applesauce,

trading off

this is a thing, you learn as you go.  i am feeling better at the moment, but it was a rough ride this morning.  seems, in taking so much of my colcrys, trying to facilitate in the alleviation of the gout flare that had its hooks in me, along with the allopurinol and the prednisone, i woke at 3 this morning with a bubbling in my guts and an irrigation issue to deal with for the next 12 hours.  it was not fun, i assure you, and the trade off of walking was barely compensatory.  but i am grateful, both conditions are a bit remiss and i am okay with that at the moment. 

this has been an irritating day for a couple of reasons.  one, i wasn't able to pay the rent for the noon meeting, for the past 2 months.  we have the money, that's not an issue.  more to the point, it's the hardest thing in the world to go down to the clinic and simply give them the money you have to pay for your meeting to have continued space.  it shouldn't be that hard; in 2017 you really should be able to log on, transfer funds and be done with it.  the second thing was peripheral.  the hall has been closed for remodeling.  it was said to be closed from Tuesday last til Tuesday just past.  okay.  to be on the safe side, as i was trying to see if someone would be there to take our money for the meeting, i also inquired as to the open and ready status of the Fellowship Hall.  i was told it was open.  now, to be fair, the woman who was at the reception desk is not the regular receptionist.  however, i'm still not tip-top.  i had to stay in the bathroom and void as much liquid as i could just to have a chance to get this stuff done today.  only to get up to the Hall, open the door, step inside...and find no tiles on the floor, no chairs, no tables.  no nothing to set up a meeting.  and that was about the end of my patience with Neil Kennedy recovery clinic.  likely we'll have to reschedule our anniversary celebration, as we haven't even had the last 2 weeks to collect funds for it, and i refuse to do anything in a rush fashion.  between the issues at the sober club with our Sunday meeting and this, i'm really close to just saying fuck it all. 

but this is venting.  have to do it sometimes.  on the upside, i saw the ultrasound of Syd's child, my grandchild.  i got to visit with my parents, got to cook dinner for them, western ribs and alfredo mac and cheese.  i am up and down the stairs okay, i'm about to go make myself a chicken bacon sandwich for dinner, i've got nothing that i'm aware of scheduled for tomorrow, so i should be able to rest and take it easy.  i did pray, i did my readings, and i feel much better than i was.  so before i lose my mind and my blessings, i need to remember i have no idea what God has in store for me, but i know Jehovah has something coming, the table is set, and i have to walk in faith until i get to it.  that's it, that's all.

thank you, Father, for reminding me. 

ramblins

it'd be easier to just give up.  i have to admit that.  in the admission, there is no give.  there is no surrender in saying that it would be easier.  there is just truth.  at times, i don't know why i'm doing any of this anymore.  coming upstairs, putting down vocals, putting in applications.  it seems that i have reached a point in my life of just being stuck.  yet, i don't know what else to do.  i wasn't raised to give in, but i taught myself through the years.  suicide was never not an option.  it was just never seen as 'the solution'.  it is, as it always was, seen as the MacGuffin of life, more or less, the 'god in the machine' answer when nothing seems to have a summary that works.  but i don't want that now.  i want something to work.  i want things to get better.  i'm willing to put in the effort, but i need to know something is coming.  i don't know if that makes sense to anyone else, but it does to me, and that's what's important, i'm thinking.

last night sleep  was miserable due to this gout/neuropathy flareup.  nothing is really helping, but i took something a bit more high octane today and i'm hoping i can get my chores done if nothing else.  i'm flailing though.  i hobbled to the bathroom this morning, hobbled through the kitchen, made the simplest of breakfasts, two boiled eggs and some instant oatmeal.  i did say my prayer, but it was so diffuse and scattered it was more the acknowledgement that was from the heart, because i can't even remember it now.  my dad called and asked me about calling a treatment center to see about work, but i'm not going down those roads again.  no fake treatment centers, no more walking jobs, no more physical labor.  i can do this:  i can work on my computer.  i am pretty good at data entry.  i type well enough (blogging aside; i don't bother with proper grammatical structure for my thoughts, cause that's not how they sit in my head, in case anyone wondered).  i can read, proofread, i can edit.  i can deal with customers.  willing to get a landline phone if need be.  but i'm not going to keep walking on this pained foot or ankle or leg just for money that is all temporary anyway. and, truth is, if i make it for just five more months, it eases up significantly.  but next month is going to be tight, and april is new license as well as tags for the car.  so knowing those things, i keep searching.  but not for a treatment center to work in.  and they like women for those positions still; a fat black man with no teeth and a lack of smiling capacity is not really the first face one wants seen for their corporation.  i can't blame them for that, either.

i'm going to get my trash out to the curb today.  i'm going to call my mother shortly.  i'm going to shave and groom, shower this afternoon, get myself together to minimize my morning activities tomorrow.  i have my meeting tomorrow if they've finished the floor at the fellowship hall, so i want to be ready, or able anyway, to take care of business there.  and i don't really have much else i have to get done today.  try these vocals again later.  maybe do some composing, see what else i can do.  but, an easier day of nursing this pain, while i hate the sound of it, is not the worst thing in the world.  the guy with no leg wishes he had my pain if it meant he had the leg to hurt.  perspective is still paramount.

thank you, Jehovah, because this pain is not killing me, and i am getting stronger by dealing  with it.

wistfulness in november

this is one of the summer pics that i asked Rachel to take for me.  i was looking to get my sense of being an author reestablished, in the wake of all the losses i'd incurred over the course of a few months.  there wasn't a lot of satisfaction in the pictures; i didn't get many suggestions from Rachel.  it's just funny how things become clearer as time goes on.  i miss her, not in a diminished amount, but in a different capacity.  i wish i had my friend around.  but i can see further how much distance she was maintaining at this time. 

today i have to get some supplies.  i'm running low on daily coffee, as well as milk and eggs and shit.  it's okay, i have the money for these things, but i don't have much more than that.  i got up feeling okay though.  and that's despite some fairly pressing things to deal with.  for starters, i have to talk to my dad about the roof over the downstairs bathroom.  the leaking is pretty heavy now, so either the thing is getting worse or the heavier rain is revealing the amount of existing damage.  but it is as a colander at the moment and that's not going to work.  i also need a printer, because i have to be able to print some of the documents i'll be working on soon, and writing things out longhand print is not my cup of tea anymore.  but that's peripheral. 

i didn't find any apps this morning, but i'll check the vindicator online later, when i return home.  i'm going to check on my parents and i'm going to hit Aldi's while i'm north.  i also need to get that switch put on my heating system, but i have something else wrong that i need to get checked out and need to consider what to do about that as well.  it's the nature of things, i'm not weeping about it.  life in this particular time in history dictates that unless you have an abundance it's likely you don't have enough of something that you need for real.  but you have to be able to survive regardless, and that's what i intend to do. 

regarding the picture.  i cut it from the center of a picture that i wasn't crazy about.  it's not the weight at all, so much as the composition.  some people feel editing is a cheat, but i'm not in agreement with that.  it was a color picture, heavy shadows in the face and the foreground.  i cut out the figure and with some gamma correction got a lightening of the features and changed the shadows appropriately.  because life is what it is, and the tools that we have are all the instruments we've got to work with.  i'm not unhappy with it now, and still have the original because regardless of my perception of where Rachel was at the time, she took the picture and it will always mean something to me because of that alone.  so, we make do with what we have, and we change the perspective and it becomes something we need.  that's my mantra for today. 

thank you, Father, for life today. 

Dinner With Friends

today was one of those strange days.  so many turns to it, so many different elements, it's just easier to sum it up as strange rather than try to figure out what made it so.  but the devil, as they say, is in the details, and so, the journey commences. 

i am still off as the residual of the daylights saving nonsense.  but having taken the gabapentin to try to dispel this pain in my foot that has gone nowhere, i slept deeper than usual.  not longer; that would have been nice.  but i woke, early and groggy, spending a lot of time on the side of the bed, hurting.  but i said my prayer, with some nodding, and i got coffee started, and that was the big part of the morning.  i read my books and took my meds and i had a breakfast sandwich and started some greens as i was planning a sunday dinner for myself.  i went to the office and put in a couple apps and did some music and got my composition almost ready for vocals, and i came back downstairs after a while and got dressed for the meeting.  it was said to be a warm day today, but i didn't let that fool me into dressing for spring. 

i sat at my kitchen table and wrote out a long hand printed letter to the club where we have our meeting.  the gist of it is this:  we've been there for over a decade now (time flies, don't it?) and we've paid out 75% of our donations for rent, as per our agreement.  it's steep, but when you don't get many people, it's helpful.  we've had space provided for our books, as we are a book study 12 step meeting, and once our books were stolen from an unsecured location, we were provided a locker for our things.  this arrangement, with little variation, has lasted for quite some time.  recently, however, we've been moved out of our locker, we've received no receipts for our payments of rents in months, and we're feeling, by and large, pretty unwelcome.  the officers of the meeting have been silently bickering about the right path to take on this issue, so i said i'd step in and get things started.  i texted the club secretary earlier this week, asking if something was going to be done in any measurable time period, to be told it was unknown when we'd be provided with more space.  so, i wrote out my letter.  it wasn't anything confrontational or demanding, but it was asking for someone to contact us about our concerns, so we can decide on a course of action beneficial to our membership.  responsible.

well, our treasurer was in a foul mood today and went off on the secretary for a spilled cup of coffee and left the meeting.  but one monkey never stops the show; the meeting went on, and we got the letter signed, sealed and delivered with our current rent payment.  all we can do. 

i talked to my friend TP today, but she was on her way to work.  i talked to my mother, she sounded better than she'd been lately. i think the concert did her some good.  i told her i'd be by tomorrow, and i will.  i talked to Lonnie finally, and he invited me by for dinner.  though i've been in pain today, i accepted, because i wanted some interaction with other humans.  it was a nice evening, and the food was good.  i stayed several hours and i came home just recently.  i feel okay, think i'm going to go upstairs and start working on these vocals.  i have no complaints except a bit of a headache.  felt very stuffy earlier, so it may be a cold trying to come back on me.  don't really know.  i catch a lot of hell internally lately.  but if you have a day where you get done what you need to get done and get to spend the end of it with friends, it ain't a bad deal in my opinion. 

thank you, Jehovah, for friendship and love.