Friday, September 28, 2018

And Another Day Happened

And I just keep rambling on. I’ve been using this talk to text to blog, but I haven’t been posting. That’s mostly because I’m using the game to keep myself from sitting after I get back from work. Because some days I sit for the entire day, nine hours or so or more. Some days I’m out driving, which is still sitting, but I don’t consider that as much of a contribution to the hemorrhoids. I really do need to focus on how to get rid of them. I don’t want to live the rest my life with them.

Though I probably will. The body isn’t getting any younger, after all. I just need to find a way to deal with and reduce the pain. Eating less, liquid diet, that’s actually probably a good thing to do more often. I miss the buffets. I’m going to go again, maybe next week, maybe the week after, maybe, no not tomorrow. I would like kitchen I could cook in though.

Search up at FedEx place in life no doubt. Huh? Talk to text. Such a pathetic place in life no doubt. I must be getting tired, talk to text is not understanding me. It would be good to sleep. But rambling has its own soothing therapeutic ways.

Deep down inside I am still here. Hello. Feeling wonder and excitement with each moment, with each breath. It may seem like I’ve let myself deteriorate to a point where I don’t care. In some ways that’s true. Maybe I never really understood why I am here. I always thought it was to love and be loved. But that’s not working out the way I had hoped. And still I laugh, I am amused by everything. That’s the way I’ve always been and that’s why I don’t fit him.

I believe in love. Not God, not money, just love. The energy that feels good. The energy of caring, shared. Or love shared is squared. Imagine if everyone did it.

All I want is honesty. That seems to be way too much to ask. I am alone with my honesty. Watching the world fight over things. Watching the people lie reach other. i don't know how they live with themselves. Pretending it’s all OK. It makes me very sad to look outside of myself. So much pain, so much cruelty, so much usury, so much insecurity. I can explain it in so many ways, I’ve read the books, a psychology degree tells you so much about so much. And yet it’s all a bunch of made up mumbo-jumbo in the end. I have no clue why people in power let their fear undermine their love when love is all we need to overcome the fear and actualize sheer joy of living. Caring feels so good, so much better than anything else we can do. Makes no sense not to do it.

So I set an alarm on my little island of honesty. I do my best to walk awake when it goes off. I just don’t want to play the game anymore. I don’t want to pretend that fear is OK. I don’t want to pretend that way people go through their lives lying and pretending is OK. It’s not OK.

Maybe that’s why I relate so well to stories like Jesus Christ superstar, or Joseph and the amazing Technicolor dream coat, or Hook. I relate to a grown-up Peter Pan. We’re all just children pretending we’re not so the other children won’t laugh at us.

Someday I’m going to think about the words and say what I truly mean better than I ever have before. I don’t reach for that sort of clarity as much as I used to. I’m not even looking at the screen tonight as I Babylon. I wonder if I’ll understand what the talk to text actually types. Especially since I’m not making an effort to articulate. Could be amusing. Would be with a friend. Everything is more fun with a friend.

If I told you the truth... would you hate me?

I told you you were fat or lazy or stupid for pretending would that be offensive? Even if it was the truth? That’s why I don’t talk to people much anymore. I am tired of trying to fit in. And now that I have rekindled a modicum of self-discipline, I don’t want to go back to the self-destructive suicidal ways normal people choose to live. And still, I am here talking to the phone, putting the words on the Internet, because I want to share. I want to care. I want to care more than I do. I want to be squared.

LOL

Maybe I’m a round ball looking for a square peg or vice versa.








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