Still Figurin' Out Who I Think I Am

This one's about September, October, and Meatvember.

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"What did you do in September? Did you have any writing goals or other goals? Do you have any writing goals or other goals for October? What do you like most about the month of October?"

Boom shaka laka! It's October first and foremost, the 1st, and I feel comfortable blogging again because I'm not writing prompts or anything. So what's up, you sexy people? I have nearly twenty tabs open in my browser, which has already crashed once, so I better do this in hurry because I'm open for business. I have no clue how this entry is gonna turn out, which is part of the beauty of only writing like four entries in the month before...I haven't established a pattern of any kind. My problem, not yours. Let's begin then.

My September? It was a mess of anxiety tinged with an unfamiliar love for humanity within my hermitage, and it ended with a small marker of hope encased with my therapist telling me basically (these are his words, not mine) I have no purpose in life right now. And that's kinda accurate. I just am, searching for some kind of deeper meaning...or any meaning. What my purpose for being here is. Lots of existential questions. The upside and the follow-thru. Lots to work on. But I'm here, and that's always a good start...at least that's what I figure.

I had my state-sanctioned disability appointments in Syracuse, which I was terrified about (see: "This one's about importance, imagination/humor, and music." ). Sure, let's stick a kid with anxiety issues on a bus to a city he's never been to, and let him figure out how to take two more buses in that city to see a psychologist that he's too numb and freaked out to speak to, and then see another doctor who will give him a physical that will basically say "He can walk and turn his head and move his limbs", even though most of the limbs don't function as well as they should anymore, so he's good. Brains of spaghetti, only I'm sure to be denied of any SSI/SSD benefits...basically a waste of time and money from the state. Then the decision to appeal will happen, and I'll likely get approved, and have to jump through more flaming hoops, and all I want is the desire to be myself like I was five or ten years ago without the meltdowns and with the ability to perform all the functions I used to be able to do like normal human being do every day. And not be judged for what I can no longer do. And not feel stressed. Don't fault me for feeling helpless at times, when I know I'm not capable of being some superstar employee willing to risk everything, including my health, for a company that doesn't appreciate the contributions. The days of willingly "breaking my back" for someone are over, as my body can't physically withstand the abuse anymore and my mind can only accept that so much of it is going to waste in the wrong directions. So in that regard, fuck this September. With the ease of a bus token-studded dildo infected with the hatred of everyone whose job it is to make life manageable. It's easy to catch the hate when it's more palpable to detect it.

But not all of this month was a loss. I recovered some feelings. I know what it's like to love and to appreciate. My gratitude has always bubbled under the surface, and it sprung to a head briefly. Something to build on, as forgotten tendencies can be. I managed two poems as well, because the urge to write anything was strong even though the will to create anything like a blog entry wasn't there to my satisfaction (so yes, it was a down month for me). I stopped setting goals awhile ago, because I wasn't hitting them (even if they were attainable)...but I wrote "Bangaround"  for Lyn's a sly fox 's "Love Shouldn't Hurt Poetry Contest"  (a cause I strongly stand behind), and after reading George Orwell's 1984 I busted through with "Goodnight America" - a slightly political, slightly angry rant of...things. Quick reads, really, because I don't want to bore or trouble anyone, but they had to come out. So maybe my September has sort of been learning how to deal with the public again. I did it for years, and I almost think I could do it more; the only problem is that I'm afraid if I keep doing it, I'll end up worse off than now. But that's another story for another time...this is supposed to be my happy refuge, and dammit I'm not gonna ruin a good thing any longer!!

And the rest of this prompt...what I like about October?

I have a soft spot in my heart for dumb girls dressed in oversized sweaters and tight leggings who claim autumn is the "best time of the year" because "it's fall, duh!"...and then they trip over themselves trying to prove how "fall" they are by walking around in silly boots with a scarf tied in some ridiculous bow around their neck and no jacket. I like a lot of things about October- leaves changing colors, football season is in full swing, hockey season is around the corner- but if the person in charge of the universe can just take me away from everyone else's bullshit and plant me in a place where it's always 72 degrees and sunny, I promise I'll try to be a little happier and tolerant. I know it's a lot to ask, but I'm good for it. I'll even tax what's left of my body a little more for it as long as I don't have to consider what another shitty winter will bring.

"October 1st is World Vegetarian Day! Are you a vegetarian? Would you ever try being a vegetarian? Why or why not?"

Nope. I respect life in all forms and all that, but I also know what pleases me...and sometimes, it's a belly fulla meats.

Not that I need to justify it to anyone, but listen...if a goddamn animal in the wild had a chance to eat the fuck outta me and my fat ass, it would. I'm game. I'm not long for wilderness survival...I don't hunt, I don't carry a gun, and I generally don't give a shit. I'll do my best to defend myself with some kind of karate kicks learned from whiskey-fueled nights of solitude spent hovering over a television while cheap dollar store DVDs of kung-fu flicks played, but dammit, my survival instincts are way different than the wildebeast waiting for me should I ever step out beyond past nature's velvet ropes.

But y'all know that'll never happen. My wilderness days are pretty much over, save for rare occasions...and even then, if I'm that far in, I'll admit my defeat. Bears? Peace, I'm out...until it gets me (and I can't convince it to cuddle with Charlie ~ and I). Luckily, I'm smarter than the average bear  .

So there. I'm not vegetarian because neither are the animals who would consider me dinner.

Besides, I love beef and bacon way too much.

That's not to say I've never thought about it though. I did at one point in my life do some research about becoming a vegetarian...to the point that I was almost all for it. I couldn't bring myself to it. I know those tiny animals suffer so so much, but it's for the sake of being so so tasty. And especially now, when you're poor as fuck like me, any chance you get to eat a grilled animal steak that isn't canned albacore tuna (c'mon man, I still have some limits, and "chunk light tuna" sucks ass) is a treat like you can't believe. I'm not even gonna pretend like my always insisting on "well done" steaks or burgers makes it better, or that less than "well done" makes me not destroy porcelain cleanliness. I figure that's my payback. Shitty food gained from inhumane means equals ridiculous results from the back end of the digestive process. That's karma, slicing into your life...sooooo good, yet sooooo not good.

And I know it wouldn't kill me to make the sacrifice...all the "let the animals live in peace and harmony" and whatnot. I'm down with that. I'm all for it. But I get pissed when I go to CVS and they're out of beef jerky, and that's the only reason why I went there besides the cute girl that is nice to me when I go there. Poor girl...don't be nice to me! I'm buying jerky and flavored water! You're doing your job! Just do your job!

Fuck vegetarianism. Fuck the public. I just need a button I can press that gives me food without hassles, smiles, or expectations.

Why is this too much to ask for?

I won't even get into how I once (recently) thought I was allergic to lettuce. Some painful lessons are often best to keep to self. <insert poop emoticon here>

"October 1. Autumn, Halloween. Do you decorate for autumn and Halloween? Do you enjoy autumn? I want to know."

Naw man. Sorry Megan. Quite bluntly, I don't decorate. Not for autumn; not for anything.

Where I live now isn't conducive for decorating. Just a small room, and no one else in my building cares either way. I'm kinda glad about that...it makes my not giving a shit feel less important. Less things I have to concern myself with. I'm not trying to outdo my neighbors with some crazy scheme of elaborate spookiness, like my ex and her kids were into. There's just more important shit to worry about in life than whether the wreath on the front door is "Halloween enough". Dig?

Even when I lived at 542 and had the run of the whole lower half of the building...it wasn't like I was gonna spook the fuck outta anyone. I was just too busy going to work or coming home and decompressing. If I had some extra scratch around trick-or-treat time I'd leave my light on, but no one came. More candy for me I guess, but back then I wasn't really a sweets eater either.

Maybe someday I'll be back into it...the whole "decorating for holidays". I'm just...not now. Not for me. Next year might be different, and maybe I'll feel better about it. There's a chance that I could move into a different place, but I don't want to get my hopes up just yet. For now, it is what it is. I've never been one for decorating, and I've preferred to cede that to the ones who are.

The calendar is inevitable though. It's October, and that means it's only going to get shittier outside with the wind and the rain and eventually snow. And I hate it. Weather-wise, it was a good summer, and I wasted it, with being stupid fearful of the outside world and my indecisiveness. I miss the love of the autumn air, and the love it brings to people, but I know it also brings the death of many other living things. The bridge to winter. The things that once grew, that we can't get back.

It was around this time of year two years ago that I was involved with patching up family relationships when I learned my uncle passed. I didn't know him well beyond what I knew of growing up with him around my grandmother's house; I learned a lot in the aftermath. A transitional time in the midst of a transitional time for myself. It makes me sad, because of everything I missed out on...because of what I left behind at the time. I had a dream about him last night. It was so weird. So...real, but not real. But I hate talking about dreams.

And I know I try to be ol' "ha ha" guy and want to be funny or irreverent or whatever, but I always get a little solemn around this time of year anyway, personally. Things die out, things start anew. Anyway, I love this song, and as much as I want to be the fun guy at your party (and I will be, I promise...probably too much, and I have the scars to prove it), you won't play this because it'll make you cry. The album version is completely bonkers with the emotion and instrumentation, which is why I went with the stripped-down acoustic.

Autumn's here.

"I think that ghosts like
The cooler weather
When leaves turn colour
They get together"
Lyrics.  

Alright...let's ramp up the fun, shall we?

#Truth Guys, feel me on this. You know it's impossible trying to tell a woman- any woman- how you feel. Put your gender role assumptions aside for one goddamn minute, you John Wayne motherfuckers. You know you don't know shit. You can skin a horse and cook it for dinner, and that don't mean shit when it comes to complimenting your love interest on her...anything. The losingest battle. The uphill climb to nowhere. You love her, until you have to tell her  , and she doesn't believe it.

I saw this yesterday, and I was all nope about it, but the more I think about it, I'm kinda down with it. Basically, Facebook wants to turn your profile pic into a .gif  . Sonuvabitch...how else could they make something so banal also be so freakin' cool? I'm already twirling in my head how I'm gonna stop myself from creeping people the fuck out.

And finally, some guy went all Peanuts   on a bunch of television show characters, because he could. And because there's a Peanuts movie coming out. And I'm a fan of that. So I, uhhh, played along.

And it's terrible, because it doesn't look like me at all. I was limited with the traits, which you can find out for yourself on the website linked within the article I linked. I really hope that's the most disappointing part of a movie I probably won't see until it's on DVD in a bargain bin   sometime in the long-time future of futures.

See? There's fun in everything! Now, if you don't mind me, I'm gonna scurry on outta here and so I can legit find something positive I did today for myself and jot it down in a Moleskine   for pinkbarbie. The first sentence might be "Took a nap." Until then for the rest of you, peace, all their hopes set, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!