I somewhat enjoyed this this year. There was some little to do to cope with all the loss. There’s good parents, darn good parents, but those flashbacks. Oh those flashbacks. I had my parents over for a few minutes and even though I was the most ashamed person I thought I could be, they left me and my cats gifts, a small tree, helped me get the little gifts I’ve saved up all year for others to the family home… yes. I still consider my mom’s place to be home sometimes. The apartment building I live in feels like a prison or insane asylum 20%-25% of the time. I liken it to be because I’m always seeing the same walls, long hallways, the 23 or so other tenants, and of course, alllll the noises from the floors, walls, hallways, traffic, airplanes, and I find I even think when everything seems to be going just fine that I’ve tried everything to cope; gaming, music, TV, reading, writing, drawing, cleaning, smoking, hygiene, eating, drinking – it all seems logical sometimes! And the rules, the choices, the games, the both good and bad comments and the just judgements and keeping up with the joneses. I’m sorry I don’t have a car. I wish I had one. I’m a little troubled by people who need help and I might be sorry sometimes that I don’t always have the finest foods or the most glamorous job, but I’m happy because actually it’s pretty good. I mean yeah, single, have no kids, but an attentive cat and many books and toys, and gullibility, is that what it is? Whispers under the breath, shouts in the streets, ignored hellos and quiet smirks, these all mean or meant things at points when looking for hope or reason. I’ve been the patient soul. I’ve been the guy who doesn’t or at least very rarely bangs on a wall or floor, I don’t break the apartment laws, I suffer through the cigarette smoke in the hallways, the Marijuana seeping into my apartment. When I do things, at least I do it respectfully. I guess that’s a positive. Sure, it’s like I can’t even take or make a phone call without someone listening, and maybe everyone wants a buck, but I used to give so generously, then people came into my life and told me so many rules that I either ignored or forgot, or followed when it might not seem appropriate. And I can at times hold my breath so long for relief that I burst, literally in a word and then a rush of speed, and end up here, where I was most trying to be more, here fixing and correcting, hoping yes, I’m alive. I’ve been being hounded by my guilt for ages, always wanting to be a better person. I read once to stop making those efforts, to just relax and let it sink. Perhaps, I think metaphorically the lesson. Maybe Life can only give what is had, and I confess that the more I try to tolerate… Even though you’re a neighbour, a customer, am old friend or even just a familiar face… I know sometimes that I’ve sometimes more wanted the perfect sweet little graces. YeH, it seems surreal, but I’ve been so nice because I know how it feels to be in control. Maybe not, but I wonder how come some people seem to have no guilt, when I often do. Is it because I don’t make people feel guilty? Maybe we all have the ability to turn minds or turn a mouth off. When spoken in so long silence, at times I forget what my own voice sounds like, I probably called the help line thousands of times. Some just pity you. My thoughts might be right here, maybe volunteers only do it to better their career or make themselves feel better that it’s ‘not them’. I feel angry at the guy who even told me that himself. Those weird personal thoughts are not even supposed to be shared there. This is where and why I’ve gained a little faith in humanity and turned so many times to the Bible. Jesus is a proponent, a long-standing rulebook and rule-breaker perhaps, or at least rule-knower that came into life as really what I feel is a victim. Honestly, I think I can sympathize. Words, ability to have control, ability to make the correct choice. I’ve heard it from several of doctors, and therapists. I try to be nice to my brothers and sisters. Give, work for them, serve them. The ‘golden rule’ may be that ring on a married person’s finger, except it could still apply in other ways. Nobody ever tells you that. Urine, P-ray.
It might just be jewelery, a beautiful sect of business that has some secret code that I’ve felt, because I’ve always been the ‘genius’. When you want something, they say you do it yourself correctly, because nobody thinks about you more than a few moments until the distractions (perhaps) – I think I’ve seen both sides to that coin. The good people are your allies. Honest too, I might not always trust me, but things you write often provide an outlet, a mind dump, a coping tool… and it does take everyone love to cope. We have to love. There’s no choice. Placed on this planet to serve a God or a man or a woman – Maybe all – that we shouldn’t be picky or too careful who gets picked. That’s my story for now, edited a while and poured out on some generous, prolifient and proactive readers, and us. I believe now of the times that commercial is demonic.
Between the aftermaths, I got distanced and not even one time, several, to people that believe the good of things when they’re desperate to fit in too… which is so ironic really in hindsight because I doubt I want to be the same as everyone else. We might all want to feel unique, but different. We all are, aren’t we? I didn’t think anyone on this planet would want to be warm, quietly tapping on a phone and trying to manifest a reality more balanced than the one suffered through in small little increments of time. I’ve come to give and expect some sympathy. It could make one feel miniscule mind you, demotivated maybe, trying to do nothing wrong. I’ve been hiding without privacy letting safety be safety, when its possible. Funnily, the internet will regurgitate our lives, the AI, in fact likely before and even if I don’t post this, it probably already has captured key words to help/sell/annoy me. You probably know that and sometimes dread it like me. Minutes before going down the long-winded silent mind dumps, I haven’t stopped until wondering… where were you internet when I was wandering around clueless. Where were you when I made those 3000+ panic calls. Sitting there, listening, watching? No! You were working, praying, teaching and guiding me into the love of Christmas. Maybe 2 years were rough because I was used to loving death. But because I love you, myself, and anything that I realize now has just led me to believe,
When I can restart, I would just fix the broken parts. There has still been some strength, faith, and honor. Though,
Sometimes for 20 minutes I remain the same. Wax poetic. Same problem everytime, with no solution. Like I’m looking for a solution to a problem that I created. Just like them and anyone else I guess. A way to make a different choice sometimes, without hurting anyone in the process. Because of Spectra, that’s me, more concerned about other’s feelings than my own graces. I’m lucky even to be alive most likely. There’s always doubt. I freeze up for a few seconds, when I do not know how to choose. Overthink set in about 30 minutes prior though when that happens. Then the scare. The guidance. If you do that, turn to electronics, because of a smiling polite mom. She gave me the love of video games and fun and it developed into a very unique belief system. Though I don’t play much anymore, the pastor seems not to condone it, and it did consume a lot of my earlier life.
Usually then.
it’s been to and from. That place I’ve often been. Looked at it for the last two years. Look at it this way instead. People screaming is worse.. I am home to me, a mate and pet, and those precious moments of reprieve, until the night mind gets too much anyway. Then up, eat, work, and play.
Merely hoping you have a better day each day and that when you read this, you find and comfort yourself as best you know how.
… thank you.
Clear & Precise Resumes 