Saturday, May 18, 2013


One of the reasons that I felt obliged to post the Mother’s Day picture of my friend and her family was to show that I have not given up on the sisters, not just yet.  My friend has some emotional baggage, and while it is not like most of us aren’t carrying a bag or two around, hers is such that it gives me pause.  But I do have a genuine affection for her and I don’t mind being drawn into her galaxy, if it is only for a galactic moment.

My relationship with Princess was never a sign that I was abandoning the hope of partnering with an African-American woman.  But it is truly a “first come (pun unintended), first serve” kind of thing with me, and by that I mean, you act like you are interested and are interesting to me, I will make the move to find out if there is anything to “whatever” is between us.


I think I need an area rug for my little apartment.  It is generally neat save for the floor tiles.  Maybe I will pick up a remnant or some inexpensive rug from the 2nd hand store.  When I would read Nebraska’s scouting report on Omaha and she talked about all the resale shops in that are here in town and I looked forward to going shopping with her.  SD and I used to flit about in the northern suburbs of the Motor, stopping at flea markets and such, and  Pecan Sandie and me would hit garage sales with a reckless abandon.  It has been to my chagrin to have been involved with such non-shoppers over the last decade or so, because I enjoy spending what I think of as ‘hidden quality time’ with a person.  

With being on my own and having to cope with my condition (even though it is labeled as a disability, it is a permanent state of being as well), there are times where I am grateful for the solitude that being self-sufficient provides me.  For instance, Friday night when I got off work, I rode to a nearby Baker’s for some groceries.  On the way back, I ran into a muddy, water-and-gravel filled space where a sidewalk block was supposed to be.  There were no warning signs posted and I went head-over-feet onto the ground.  There was nothing fragile in my bags and surprisingly, my pants were only dirty and not torn.  It took me a few moments to gather myself; as I did, a passing motorist came over to see if I was okay.  He said that, “he saw me riding one moment and the next it was like I had disappeared”.  I told him that I was relatively unhurt and that I would get it together, thanking him for his concern.  It made me think of when I was ‘bit’ by London last week and how my co-workers bandaged me up.  Who was going to stitch me up now?  I thought about going to the nearby Wal-Greens and purchasing first aid stuff, but I still would have several bags of groceries to haul around.  Rather than go to the drug store, I came home and took a bath, cleaning my wounds and dappling them with Neosporin.  “Good enough”, I thought to myself.  It had better be... as if there was any other choice.  Dusting myself off, I wondered briefly what kind of reaction I would have gotten from ANYONE who fancied themselves close and concerned about me, once they found out what happened?  Because it isn’t the collision itself that is the worry (after all, my helmet didn’t hit anything) but the whiplash effect that is the concerning part of ‘getting banged about’.  At any rate, I don’t have to listen to anyone’s heartfelt hysterics at the ‘wrong  thing’ in regards to my overall well-being.  It was reminiscent of what made mes so angry with the cat who hit me in 2011... I can do everything right and STILL get struck simply enraged me.  Anywho...

I feel care-free as I could possibly feel at this precise moment.  I don’t have to discharge myself of insipid thoughts or be exposed to the logic of the unimaginative.  The idea of responsibilities keeping me from what I hope is counter to the core of my being.  Having a dream and getting after it does encompass the responsibilities that come with my life choices... in fact, they drive me more now than ever before.  But they have never been a burden to me, and whether I lived up to them or not is strictly conjectural.  One thing that I do know, is that my choices were based on the best information available at that time, so there are no regrets, at least, not on my behalf.


I was reading from the Thought Catalog about how a person dealt with getting over someone.  The connection was that though the author was indeed thinking of his past partner, he was not really “thinking” of them, much in the way that I don’t think about Nebraska or Princess.  There is only one person who actually pervades my thoughts in the way that would resemble the “light and it never goes out” when carrying a torch for a former love, and that is what remains of my feelings for Tee Jay.
So the thoughts that I think are not really about people (a.k.a. “the things that I think I am thinking about”), but are ruminant neuron fragments that never got to become anything more than mitochondrial floaters in my mind’s eye.  Sometimes when I am listening to a

song, a narrative springs from it and I try to apply it to the pieces that are
“gumming up the works”, so to speak.  I remember how the song “Endicott” by Kid Creole and the Coconuts felt as though it was written for me (
much like I did when watching this performance of the song “Mr. Softee” on SNL).  Like the song’s narrator, I too was not part of the “status quo” and could never be like the titular subject, Endicott,  who represents to me all the gilded “hood riche” that is a part of the rap/pop/reality media culture.  Sure, he is also a stand-up guy, and while I do posses qualities that would make me a cat who would work a 9-to-5 in support of a family, I do enjoy my freedom.  I have seen relationships much in the same way I would see a barter situation, where one makes an offer in hopes of receiving either goods or services that one desires.

, self-alienation, or be it due to a seething anti-social psychopathy, being alone does not trouble me.  And I repeat it here because that is what my cost of the bargain is, my guaranteed peace of mind, and no hindrance in my personal life from whatever path I am on.  And though Endicott’s foil sought and achieved freedom seemingly for freedom’s sake, I believe that I am on an appointment with one of the positive possible outcomes of my destiny.

That is what was and always has been most disappointing at the terminus of a relationship... how it went from “living a dream” to becoming “the kind of relationship that I strive to have avoided”.


FrankandMary said...

As long as you don't tack your life onto someone else's present one. You have too much going for you to do that.

And reenacting the same drama over & over sucks ;O. Which is probably one of the reasons you do not eco-date(redate)like I am doing with my just-past bf. I've never done it before, but this one is worth it.~Mary

Jonthy Williams said...

Hey Mark,
Just wanted to say hello. I sent you an email.