ONLY "SORT OF" BECAUSE IN MANY WAYS IT DOES FOLLOW

NON-SEQUITUR (sort of)

I actually think that of most of my postings here because my life remains fluid even in state, there is a “heat of formation” taking place that defies the understood definition of “in state”.  While it could be argued that molecular degeneration is always taking place that is something else entirely.  And as “deep” as some people say that I am, this is not that deep (though as far as depth can be measured, this post will be deep enough).

The motivation for the array of this post is through myon-line friendship with Sherry, who is among those of you that as a person, that I just “feel”.  Though I would not be surprised to discover, that if we were to me, we would have MAJOR differences IRL, which would be okay, too.  See, “the imperfections of my person” does not reflect upon the WHOLE of the person, and I feel that she would be able to see beyond those things and we would meet on that shared level of human existence that most of us dwell upon.  This is why I guess this is a post inspired by her.

VAUXHALL AND I

"The sanest days are mad..." begins Moz’s song, ‘Why Don’t You Find Out For Yourself?’ which alternately explains what people do and why it is also unnecessary for them to endure the choices that they make.

“Don’t rake up my mistakes; I know exactly what they are…

And what do you do?  You just sit there… I’ve been stabbed in the back,

So many, many times… I haven’t any skin…

That’s just the way it goes…”

Whenever I have found myself challenged by any situation, personal or otherwise (but really, as a human being, is there ANY other situation to be in other than ‘personal’?), it is being relatively unaffected the odd attempts to make me feel shame through the mentioning those aforementioned “imperfections” of my character, this aptly describes the attitude that allows me to cope with the verbal (or what are to me, the more scurrilous ‘keyboard and click’ attacks) affronts that come with my indiscretions.  Am I an adulterer? And absentee Father??  Race traitor???  Check, check and depends on how you define that last one, I guess.

so much good stuff to choose from!!

Anywho, I still have not come across anything in my life that would disqualify me from having and holding any opinion, particularly if I can develop and defend my position with well-reason and thought out observations.  And if they are well-reasons, steep in rational thoughts and based in rational and accepted common principles, then, I could give less a f*ck what someone says about me.  People believe and convince themselves with a lot less study and informed consent than what I use to purchase a f*cking treat at Wheatfield’s.  So f*ck them.

Those are the ones who have to “find out for themselves”, because while their truth is there, plain to all who can comprehend social phenomena, it is still hidden to them, like the “glass that is hidden in the grass… you’ll never believe me so, why don’t you find out for yourself…”  As much as his infamous comment about “the 47 percent” should disqualify him from the presidency, anyone who did not understand where Governor Romney was coming from should turn in their “critical thinker membership card”, effective immediately.  You know what he meant.  Just like I have always known that there were some AA’s for whom I would always be a pariah, whether it was for my being light-skinned, smart, or because of my parenting issues, among a host of other ideals that lie within the “groupthink” of a people, that I would always be a f*cker to, and that is simply okay.  I did not ask them if they gave a damn, and I never would, either.  Who cares?

IT’S TOO LATE TO BE HATEFUL; IT’S TOO LATE… TO BE LATER THAN…

Once there were mountains on mountains

And once there were sunbirds to soar with

And once I could never be down

I got to keep searching and searching

Oh, what will I be believing and who will connect me with love?

As I go from “Station to Station”, taking a part of what to me, has always been “the relationship fandango”, I felt the lyrics of this song reaching into me at work the other day as it played on the club’s stereo system.  It was ‘70’s hits’ in the rotation Friday night and my heart sank with the heaviness of the lyrics.  I don’t know how old I was when I first heard this song but what I think I have grown to understand is that we are all born “asexual” and that the rest of our sexuality is developed as we grow.  I mean, I got that when I was a kid and saw the difference between how my darling brother and I observed Lynda Carter… he emulated her as Wonder Woman, while I thought of her in the way that I think of things through my Face Book postings!!  So for me to say that I never held a prejudice against homosexuality as a construct would be, to me, a very accurate claim that I could make.

One of the real deep ponderables that I have had nag me throughout my life and certainly my adult life, is how I seem to attract the attention that I do from women?  It is not with faux modesty that I ask this, because I know that I am a fairly fit, attractive, aware and thoughtful cat, who has no problem with being kind and vulnerable, which would seem to be on most lists of desired qualities in a man.  But like most people who claim to have once been treated like an “ugly duck” at one time in their lives, it is hard to conceive of that being so for me.  But it is true, and vestiges of those days popped up with the recent comments that were left (but are only ‘alive’ for the purposes of intellectual development and as a plot device ONLY!!) in my blog, of when I was assigned to the outer realms of social activity in my adolescence.

The psychedelias that are represented by David Bowie and his multiple, pre-Madge and pre GaGa, personas were always attention getting for me.  Ziggy Stardust, The Thin White Duke, come first and foremost to mind, as with all of the other iterations of his stage presences, held sway in my imagination.  While I do not think that even without my injury I could call forth a specific memory, I can see a little boy dancing as he imagined himself performing this particular song.  I just know that I did it… muscle memory is deeper than the memory on my “hard drive”, and when I heard this song as I cleaned the Spin Room, I nearly collapsed internally, genuflecting physically, as the words cut into me.  Just an amazing song, coming to me at an amazing time in my life.

“Got to keep searching and searching… Oh, what will I be believing and who will connect me with love?  Wonder who, wonder who, wonder when…”  I never searched for anyone, and never have I wondered ‘when it was gonna happen for me’ either.  But I never believed in the wildest of my dreams that this “connection” would come to me as it has in my life.  It is something that I regard with an ironic smile, as much as I claim to be cool with being alone, to have so much to say about relationships and all my participation in various levels of intimate relationships with women.

From Mookie Dee to AKA, from Tee Jay to Nebraska, and now including Princess, with the SFC folded in just for spice, I could understand if someone was following this and concluded that all that this smurf was about was being in a relationship.  I just happened to know this smurf a little better than most, and I can assure you that I have it on the highest authority that nothing could be further from the truth.

Got to keep searching and searching
Oh, what will I be believing and who will connect me with love?
Wonder who, wonder who, wonder when

Reflecting on “Calvin” of “Calvin and Hobbes” fame reflection on a all-knowing and seeing deity as being one where “Someone is out to get me”, and the “What does G-d give you”scene in the movie “Evan Almighty”, I find hard examples to ideals that reside at the core of my being. 

Even as unlikely that I could have been the next Mike Tyson, what it could have been for her is the opportunity to be the supportive woman that she thought she was.  Same with Mookie Dee and dealing with my diagnosis, and the same with Nebraska and translating our online relationship into a real-life one, who knows what the opportunity was for us?  What is, unmistakable at least to me, is that if you do not seize the opportunity when it is presented to you that once it is gone, it is gone.  You have to be vigilant if you hope to have another come your way again, if, that is, one does.

Among the general presumptions that can be made about me, as a cat who has “whored it up and left children in his wake”, is that I am also shallow, and of a disposition to not be willing to work hard.  And that is as far as from the truth that you can get.

No, I was not willing to ride my starter wife’s immaturity and hope that we find a level on which we could grow as a family from.  Violence only increases the brutality of those who perpetrate it and sows resentment in its victims.  There is absolutely nothing that could have been done to repair that relationship.  And as to Nixxie and Pecan Sandie (more on her this entry), if you get their take and can come back to me with questions, I will be glad to answer them (so if you gather that they are ‘off limits’, then you gather correctly!!).

So, you want a partner in your life, one who is respectful of and supports you, provides you with a stable influence on your children and who hopefully has surmounted his own issues with “falling into other people’s p*ssy”, and is working toward his own better future, one independent of your direct efforts??  Forgive me for answering the ad, but I do think if I am not qualified that with a little OJT, I am the man for the job!!

BUT IT’S TOO LATE… TO BE LATER THAN…

 at the Old Market Scooter's!

And I guess that's why they call it the blues.!!

Though that is a lyric from the Bowie song, this is the David Foster Wallace portion of the entry.

I have never spent a lot of space here discussing my injury for various reasons.  There is the “NT perspective”, the view that I hold of people who can still do and often manage their situations, save for all the bitchin’ and moaning that they do about it.  I always feel unsympathetic to those who rather than face their situation and effect change, are instead changed by the problems and allow it to affect them.  There is only so much empathy to be had when it is consistently pissed down the drain for someone who is obviously more concerned with amassing a wealth of sympathy and pity for their plight.  It always has seemed to me that if they took the energy that they used to relate their situation to the internet at large, then they could have used more of that energy to improving their condition, which is why I took pictures of my day, today in the Old Market. 

Prior to my condition, if you had asked me about “depression” and “have you had it”, the answer you would have received is an unreserved “no”.  I understood it as a concept, and could identify it if necessary, offering a description in-depth, but as far as being able to add to it from “experience”, I would have told you “no”.  And that held up until my diagnosis.

In fact, it was a bout of depression that brought me to blogging and where I thought of DFW and his crippling depression.  Among the symptoms that I don’t detail about my condition, crippling depression are among them, like what may have consumed former NFL-er’s Dave Duerson and Junior Seau, and the depression that simply consumed David Foster Wallace and his brilliance.

As I said, this blog was started in part as a way for me to cope and fight back against my depression.  With the help of an therapist, I was able to free myself from wherever I was at in “the provincial town I once jogged ‘round”, and get back to the Motor, to the Metroplex, and finally, to Omaha.  But after I left where I jogged, I have essentially been on my lonely.

It was during the late spring of 2011 that I found myself in therapy again, and I was able to connect with and grow with the help of my therapist.  But when KT came and my first experience with work over the past summer, I have not been in therapy since the second week of June.  And though this bout came like the cloud of advancing troops from Modor, obvious and menacing, I did think that it would be something I get past, fortified by Nebraska’s friendship and my relationship with Princess.

Bearing with me (and if you have this far, huzzah to you!!), going back to how I once saw my relationship with Nebraska being one where it was “all or nothing”, this is why.  I could not afford to have the varying priorities that would make me vital at one time and then “less than vital” at another.  I know me, and I know that I am going to deal with what I have to deal with.  That is the point of this entry and the accompanying photographs.   I still have a month supply of Sertraline (Zoloft™) to get me through until I resume my appointments and I did get “up and out” as evidenced from the pictures with this post.  When there is a fight to be fought, I will fight back as hard and as best as I know how to.  But I am not going to wait on anyone to come to me when the horn has been sounded and the battle engaged.

I swallowed my pride and did what I feel was appropriate regarding those in my near-vicinity.  And that is that with that.  So I took my meds, got into the tub, and decided to get out into the air and from Scooter’s I plan on going over to my gym and work out, maybe watch a little football.  From there, I will go home and take me a bath and like the kiddie book says, “go the f*ck to sleep”.  But as with the football players and DFW, men who had more at hand to deal with their issues, I can only hope that I am as capable as I think that I am when it comes to wrestling with my own monster.  Again, that is why I am out, and that is why I am offering this for inspection.  The least I can do IS the least I can do… why would I not let those who say that they care have their opportunity to do so?  Besides, I like checking off things on my “bucket list” and this, “letting someone know that you are in trouble”, is one of those things.

Check made.  Now I am off to go get in some weight training!!