People are so illogical to me. I don't think I've ever met anyone who does not want to believe they know right from wrong and know absolutely certain answers about everything. People seem to be drawn to others who do the same. Just look at the leaders and prophets people have followed, killed, and died for.
The more I get to know people, the more I want to be alone.
Yet I crave shared so I stay alive and keep hoping someone will find me and share as I do. That s what these blogs are about. My messages in bottles. I have flown away from time to time for one reason or another. Flown away from life, correspondence, from blogging, from people - sometimes it was slipping into my own self-indulgence and/or self-pity... sometimes it was just getting too busy with life to write. Sometimes I drop corresponding with people to continue the blogging because it is the last hope. Somehow I can convince myself that if someone doesn't care to find my daily words on the web (blog) then they don't care and why should I take time away from my needed writings for myself to write to anyone else?
Then times like these come back and I realize the blog is delusional (what?). The millions of fans waiting with baited breath are delusional (what?... speak up, I can't hear you). Even a few readers is sometimes delusional (oh come on now... do I have to create other accounts and leave comments to convince myself?... My imaginary friend thinks you have mental problems).
Ok, so continuing this absurd line of thought (I apologize to the millions of fans and dear readers who are not laughing at this right now), I then I kick off the cloak of hermit-thinking and remember I have known in this life many actual people who actually respond (at the moment, there is J) and just maybe someone real outside of my head will respond again and maybe that's enough.
Ok, correspondence is good.
It's not enough, though. I am insatiable. Its never enough to just share words, even as much as I love sharing words and always want to share words even more than I do now, much much more. As I said (more than a few times) I see the blogs as the possibility of finding more sharing of words and even more, sharing that can become smiles and eye contact and touches and hugs and even sensuality in the physical world. So I continue blogging even when it is obviously futile.
Hello, would you like to make love with me?
Ok, seriously seriously, anyone I've ever loved is welcome and wanted back in my life. At the very least keeping in touch through words or voice. I lose touch with some, I think, because my your pattern (or habit) of communications is not very stable. I can get lost in a work life that consumed 60 or more hours of my weekly waking time and a sports life that can consume 15-20 (or more) hours of my weekly awake time and a social life that can consume almost all the rest of the waking time and then my need to write to myself and throw the bottles of words and hope into the universe via blogs steals time from sleep... that is when the letters pause. I see that now.
Also, there have been times when I did not have internet or a laptop, living in my car. I know, a car without internet access, soon it will be unthinkable. I recall dial-up. Old? I won't tell you what else I recall lol.
I have the luck of being in this very active body. If I was home bound, I would be writing letters as I did when I retired in the nineties and published The Letter Exchange and Paper Fantasies (starting in the eighties) and had long literary conversations with more than a hundred pen pals and deeply moving correspondence with dozens and intimate unconditional loving trusting letter exchanges with a few or a few more. Two became lovers and roommates. I am so happy J inspired me to remember this.
Imagine the blogging I might have done had the internet been around.
The point I think I was making is that the heart is always here for anyone who can find it. :)
So what else is new?
Yesterday softball was fun and then a delicious filet mignon (seldom eaten, but especially good when it is prepared as I like it and it definitely was... like buttah). After softball and dinner, I moved on to cards with old friends (remembering why I don't hang out with them as much as I used to, but still good to see them). I think I mentioned this with more embellishment somewhere before. The brief blog has had some activity. A lot more than this one. Did you miss me?
Continuing keeping you in touch with the details of the daily life, today I woke, showered, and headed to a friend's meetup. She runs a meetup called (I think) the Orlando Thinkers Discussion group. We went to a local high-end college fine arts museum and listened to a tour guide tell us about the artists. A lot of people showed up, but only seven walked to a restaurant for early dinner. I'd have liked more to join us, one was kind of cute, or was it the short flowing dress and g-string (or no underwear?), anyway... some are too shy or poor to socialize after group spectator activities and I understand both positions well.
Yummy food and I ordered a take out meal for tomorrow. Interesting conversation, though none inspired me to pursue further discussion privately, alas. Still, at the risk of not saving enough to move out of here when I finally want a clean place to relax and cook and eat and be in, I think I will attend more of her meetups. Even if the cute ones put on underwear.
I know, I have no couth. Sometimes. Especially when babbling. I mean, I didn't stare or take close up photos. Actually, I took no photos. Darned. This could all be something inserted to titillate or shock, of course. Something inserted, aye? Yeah, well, you'll just have to question further (or actually look into my eyes and spend some time with me) to know for sure.
I just paused.
It was not to masturbate, no. Your minds, really.
I felt like a snack (oh sure, go ahead, associate the oral thing with the hunger with the sexual desire and tell me it was emotional hunger brought on by horniness. Yeah, so what of it? What if that's true? Whatchu gonna do about it, aye?) and my choices here are limited so I reached for the big bottle of nuts (stop that right now) that I bought a couple of weeks ago when I was house sitting for Jackson. That lead me to wonder how long it takes for mold to grow on nuts at 85 degrees. So I searched for that and found no clear answers. I did find a lot of enthusiastic people giving advice as if they suddenly woke up with the news that we've been doing things all wrong since the dawn of time. So I ate nuts.
So what else is new, (didn't I ask that already?... are you paying attention?... where are your hands?), again?
The past few (or maybe two) days I started writing in my daily blog more. I have been writing only sporadically in my blogs this year. A sign of the disarray and discomfort at "home" and limited time and putting sleep ahead of writing. The babbling blog has been neglected even more with just occasional mini-explosions of words, but mostly silence. I even stopped track of the writings some time over the last few months, a definite (and rare) sign of detachment from myself and my writing and my written gardens inside and in the physical world. Not good, but not that bad just yet.
I am still opening and very occasionally adding to the previous daily blog which was the primary for more than seven years and spanned the whole of my living with Jackson (which may be a sign of my trying not to give up on her in spite of all the evidence and good advice that I should). Major changes in life - not just external, but all sorts of factors come into play - have been the reasons for the changes in primary blogs. From early on... just counting them up now... asking myself where it all began online... maybe here (or at least close if you follow the words and links back and forward found there).... at least blogging started rooting itself there.
Wow, I just felt a tinge of inspiration to journey back and walk a random path from long ago. My love of writing (and babbling and rhymes) continued after my small self-publishing ventures on to the internet as I wrote in bulletin boards, in chat rooms, in newsgroups, in forums and all sorts of places that blended into Newsbee's Universe some time later as my own web space developed when I moved from my paper written gardens into my online written gardens which I can trace back to the second page I ever put on my online written gardens (I think) and hopefully the wayback machine will continue to help me find the pages the greedy corporations deleted without warning, but that's another story and sad as it may be, I'll follow the retrograde path into excitement for the moment.
Everything seemed so new in '02. lol :)
For the record, the pages from the 90's were deleted by a couple of supposedly "free for life" websites and the pages from 2001-2009 were deleted by grand old AT&T and they can all go rot in their corporate hells for wiping out my written gardens, but the goodness of the wonderful people at The Internet Archive (aka The Wayback Machine, whch only goes to show they have their heads on straight and yes, I donate - you should too cuz you never know you might need them to cure your broken heart... please do). Please?
Maybe someday I will find someone who enjoys wandering such random paths (by clicking links and following the next link and the next (so many links to choose from, the clicking is impulsive and the path is almost random). I sometimes felt so silly and profound (sometimes simultaneously) back them and it's so much fun to feel and to laugh at myself now :)
I smell a long rambling blog post coming on... if only there was time :)
Hunger rises... food is all there is to quell it... alas.
What a wonderful roller coaster...
...if only someone really shared the ride right here...
I think this is to be continued...
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