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 |   All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know. |
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The Idiotic Ideate?? Formerly: New Zenith To Hell…(all started with arc as writer here from the trials of Rising Stars to Preferred Author to WDC Quills Best Poetry Collection to the falling action I feel now that settles in a white case.) Got to hustle to preserve the best of me before fully fading on that virtual horizon glowing more brilliant with each passing day to permanent nuclear winter. if people don’t get it, I don’t need to explain it. We kill all that’s beautiful before we question it’s purpose. So many people find it easier to think in the black and the white. God forbid you get lost straying in the gray. "Whoever fights monsters should see to it…he does not become a monster.” I’ve been to the abyss and back. Not so bad. The loneliest happy person you'd ever meet, when not the saddest person who needs to be alone. In an ever-changing world, we need to handle topics at the ready. If you roll over and give in to the narrative without lending a voice of your own, you might as well hand over your civil liberties. We have voices that should connect to true conscience and spirit for honest and open discourse. Why feel so redacted? Unify on issues and put drama aside. Open minds require complete objectivity. If none need apply, question the unbendable sources for answer. If you knee-jerk react to every issue lurking out there that clutches your neck, you fall victim to your own ignorance born from a life of apathy (no doubt) in pathetic cries of injustice. Just writing what I feel without the narrative-altering mind f---ing with my head. [MY Chorus] In your house, I long to be Room by room, patiently I'll wait for you there, like a stone I'll wait for you there, alone "It amazed me how truth was often suffocated in minutes, but lies were given sufficient air to breathe indefinitely." "You are all better than you think you are, you are just designed not to believe it when you hear it from yourself." ![Merit Badge in Second Time Around Contest
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Congratulations on winning the Grand Overall Prize in [Link To Item #2164876] with your beautiful poem, [Link to Book Entry #933358]. This poem really moved me. Great writing!
Rachel *^*Heartv*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Second_Time_Around_Contest-2164963_14.gif)    "...lasting art is never anything more than a mathematical expression of the relations that exist between the internal and the external, the self [le moi] and the world." -Jean Metzinger I'm in love with carefully chosen words, arranged just so, audible, edible, to inhale. I attempt to post new poems and epiphanies daily with some links to what inspires. I am legally blind with a rare, genetic form of glaucoma. I'm described as "end stage" after two successful surgeries, still subject to further vision loss. Cataracts complicating matters. Writing Can get strenuous but seldom deters what yearns to emerge, despite a documented history of depression and recently diagnosed ADHD and undefinable social disorders and/or PTSD. My recent poetry:
Sometimes epiphanies about my insights on writing and life and what goes on... Making sense of life is maddening. Why do I need to know, when truth may not actually exist? Learning to accept would be a better pursuit? Flailing about in my own mediocrity, hoping to bust out. I am visible. You can put a face with a name. I would like to see other writers, too. Fiction is what you write, not who you are. Reinventing myself. I couldn't continue on the path I was on and needed a fresh start. This time around I want to put the focus on writing and the world outside of this community as it affects my life. I realize now that I have been baring my chest a bit more, as when young. fake me much more boring and unliberated than the real me. A world arriving as silent as that blossom in your garden that I told you about... |
| Prompt: Have you ever been the recipient of, or observed the kindness of, a stranger? Tell us what happened. I tried to find a previous blog entry where I wrote about this incident December 4, 2017. I was playing pick-up basketball at the YMCA when I thought I would try to steal an alley-oop pass, leaping quite high in the air. The player who the ball was intended for got tangled up with me in his effort to locate the ball and I was turned upside down mid-air and came crashing down on my back, neck and head. Some swore it was like watching me fall 10 feet and the sound was like something hitting concrete. I was dazed and didn't know what happened, couldn't recall the play for much later. I couldn't even piece together what happened for days. Why I do recall is that I struggled to remember who I was and decided to go through a mental list of questions, while trying to respond to people around me. It's was then I realized one of the players, Nate, was asking me questions and trying to get me back to my senses. I blurted out I knew I had a son, but couldn't remember where my wife worked, but that it was at a hospital. Nate was trying to get someone to call 911 and get staff from the front desk. He made sure I was elevated, too. Eventually, it was all rushing back to me. Kevin was another player who kept checking to see if I was alright, if he could give me a ride home or to the emergency room. I could sense he was real concerned. Eventually, I remembered how to contact my wife so she could come get me and take me to the hospital for a scan. Usually, when someone gets hurt at the Y, that player will hobble off and everyone on the court impatiently waits for a replacement. This was a special case. I could see all were concerned, even the player who upended me who only came back to play once since. I felt bad that I may have stole some of his joy for the game. It was just good to know that people know how to respond and that they truly care about people in these situations. I watch some of the reality shows with my wife about paramedics and all the side stories of how people keep victims safe and alive until help arrives. Even if people don't think they can help, they seem to naturally step up. I was very thankful and donated extra money to the Y that year, and since, to fund basketball camps for underprivileged youth in our community. Though they seemed like strangers, like most do at the YMCA where we play, I've built some associations over the years. I look at Nate and Kevin as solid, reliable people who I will always respect, no matter how annoying they can be to still play basketball against. I enjoy it more when I know they're on my team. 7.1.21 It's late and I want to get to bed, so I'll edit this tomorrow?  |
| It's been written somewhere on these pages that my life has been like playing handball against an uneven wall. That's about the gist of what I shared until I realized I have to share this with my therapist next week to explain this weird obsession I have. You see, to extend the methaphor, there are easier, flatter walls to the left and right and probably all the way around. I'm obsessed with learning this one wall that returns my serves in such odd ways it seems unfair. You would think I would stop mentally abusing myself and play against the proper wall. This obsession is trying to calculate every angle, it's a belief the wall cheats, conspires against me. The way it sends balls back and away, making it hard for me to play, doesn't seem fair. I don't even consider blaming myself in this regard because I believe I can master this all knowing wall and win one day. I've made significant progress with life as a highly-functioning whatever I am (can't say autistic without a diagnosis), yet I run into new obstacles all the time that perplex and intrigue me, make me want to try. In the beginning, it's very defeating. When I decide the wall is being unfair, I claim partial advantage. Because, not every thing is a wall but a living, breathing thing that I can mentally challenge, manipulate. Just the way I feel I'm being mentally challenged and manipulated by these scenarios I come across in my daily life. I should just walk away when the fix is in. Nuh-uh. My brain sets to work, leaving behind a rational, functional side of me. I figure, talk to the therapist about this obsession. Explain some scenarios where I must overcome odds. A simple one is gaining acceptance for my play on the basketball court. I should have hung them up many years ago. I just keep getting better and confusing people how I am able to achieve some of the things I attempt. I can't dunk a basketball anymore. But, I can nutmeg a player with a behind the back pass to a cutter for a layup. Look it up, if you care. Or respond here, I'll try. The thing is, I just keep watching and learning and preparing for each day I go to the gym. No one my age should be getting away with this stuff that would make me a Harlem Globetrotter. It's the same with words. It's the same with numbers. It's the same with complex equations. I do it with solitaire, cribbage, Words With Friends. I just keep learning and mastering play until it gets boring and I find something else. I need to understand why I do it, if I can stop. What will the outcome be if I keep ramping up at this pace. I'm learning about stocks and investing and making some side bets. Why am I saying all this? Guess I was just bored and prattling on after my realization about that wall I face everyday. It's not like Everest. It's not some abyss. It's a knobby, old wall that seems to mock me. Maybe, one day I will figure it all out and the wall will tumble down. I might be sad. I'll probably just look for another wall to master. Yeah, I need help. 6.29.21 typed in dark, edit later. |
| I really, really want to believe I'm smart. My wife keeps telling me I'm the smartest person she knows. I want to believe her, when she's not belittling me for some small detail I fail to pay attention to. I'm always trying to solve the largest puzzles, from shaking down a guy at the dealership for a good price on a vehicle to any provable evidence, say, that the US did NOT land on the moon, like conspiracy theorists say (by the way, I stay away from that crackpot stuff from the world is flat to who shot JFK, not that my wheels haven't spent time on it). I move on. That's the point. But, when I'm daily, routinely, involved with something that doesn't add up, my mind is drawing pictograms and graphs and charts, or whatever, in my head. Something in my psyche needs for things to balance, so the coins on one end of the scale are equal to the gold being assessed for value at the other. Does that make sense, or was that reaching as far as metaphors go? Why should I bother, moving on. I'm confronted with stuff I shouldn't meddle with everyday. I find that my inquiring mind cannot stop, because I know there are motivations on the other end of interactions that affect me that I cannot stop to ponder about. The longer I ponder, the worse it gets. I've learned not to draw attention to myself when thinking aloud, or say, writing my feelings here, for instance. I'm just compelled to pry, poke, prod and do whatever it takes in a sidelong, sidle-up manner to see 'what's the deal with that?' I offend people all the time. It becomes part of who I am that I have to accept. So, I don't even notice when I've done it. Unless, I lay out traps to see who comes to my door. It's as simple as divining from a few words a person's intent, watching their behavior, adding up circumstantial evidence so tedious and boring that even I check out from time to time. Sometimes, I get so distracted, when I get back, I don't remember what I was investigating. Just, some things keep coming back again and again and I can't help start it up all over again. These things take up a lot of my time and energy. Wish I could cut to what I need to do, sip coffee and start the day. I have a lot of time to idle. I'm told I have a big brain. I'm far more learn-ed in the past 15 years than would have expected to be by now. And, I'm not dead. Everyday is just the start of another journey in my head. So many incomplete master-level puzzles in this head that I hope one day to complete one to share with the world. What are they? I don't know. A lot of this computation goes so far into my mind that I can't retrieve what I'm working on until I'm faced with something that becomes the latest obsession. If that seems facetious, take it for what it's worth. I'm not mad at the world, not sharpening my cutlery. Just bored and my mind needs challenges. You could say I don't know how to construct a poem, let alone a metaphor, but know what I'm attempting when I write, like right now...without getting to the point, because I'm rounding a reaaaalllllyyyyy long corner...now and in life. Again, facetious. I get that. Haven't employed it all that much. Give me this one and stop questioning my intentions. It only tells me people who are overprotective have something to hide, instead of engaging me and letting their guard down. Why are people so afraid to approach? And when they do, why are they so intent on controlling the narrative instead of just letting us both vibe and get in sync? I'm down for whatever, even though what you just read might make you think whatever. I'm saying, don't let all the red flags pop up. I read between the lines. I look for evidence to support my theories. I'm drawing out conclusions within hypotheses inside conspiracy theories inside my addled head trying to put it all together. When I say 'addled', I don't mean drooling like a half-wit. You get that, right? There are people in my life that call me a genius one minute and look at me like an idiot the next. I think that says more about them. Did I just use all those words correctly? Probably not. But, I know what I'm saying. How are you? fine. Thank you. Odd. Another day, walks away backwards with finger pistols. Got an axe to grind for my employer tomorrow. 6.26ish, edited 6.30.21 and made public now! Yay!! Facetious. Only as it regard to myself. You get that, right? But, it's a little bit the rest of you. Step up. I won't bite.  Toothy; too toothy.And I'm exhausting, but you people have conversed with Schnujo is Late to Lannister  , right?  Meant in a good way. How you been? |
| I know I shouldn't say this, but sometimes I just need to get it off my chest. I wish I could get through a day without someone in my family saying or doing something that I will feel bad about. That's about as simplistic as I can put it. When I get up some mornings, fear and flight arrive my mind right away. There can be a cringe if I am not alone. Is she downstairs in a good mood, or bad? If she's got her mind made up to do something, will I be coaxed into not wasting another day. I get that I avoid life; I find distraction. I'm a fairly indulgent person who overdoes something when he finally decides to go after it. I sit in their judgment of my choices. I don't want to deal with this or that, I write, dawdle on the internet. I have designated times I can escape to the gym, usually right after work, or on those wide open days with nothing on my 'planner,' as if that would be utilized. So, I started the practiced of asking each night before bed, any plans for tomorrow. She's usually reluctant to say, grunts this or that like I should know. I want to know what I'm in for. I think she is already insinuating I shouldn't plan on coasting through another day, in her mind. In my mind, I'm uprooting trees, lifting houses and repaving roads. Everything I do feels like I'm tethered about the neck and pulling a combine with my teeth. All of these expressions come from the imagination that lays awake most nights, when the brain finally gives up, shuts off, only to begin again with the first eyelid lift. I'll try to bury my head under a pillow, but it's no use. I roll out, come down to the kitchen. That's when I know, is it safe to come out as me, do what I wish, or will it be lend my hand to a dish? Yuck, poor expression, but it rhymed. I could ramble on in this blog post, like I'm doing, as if I'm clearly relating a point I wanted to make, which was....was...rolls to the top of this entry, rereads. Yes, I feel trapped in my own home as someone who is misunderstood or not tolerated for not having the same approach, values about situation, my situation. And, I'm discovering and learning what it takes to survive in what feels like a war zone. I get that I'm being dramatic; I'm making the situation worse. I overreact; I overcompensate. The only reason I feel like hiding until it's safe to come out is because I do not feel tolerated anywhere I roam. Maybe, I'm making a game out of it to survive? But, I've heard the woman's discontent. Our children echo feelings, not concerns, about my idiosyncrasies as if I'm an upsetting their lives but not conventionally behaving. I just realized, I didn't give much evidence. Hmm. I'll have to consider, unless I'm avoid talking about that in blog because it is too 'traumatizing' to relive and retell it all again. When, I just want to find a little brook in my mind, where I can slip my shoes off and dip my feet in a warm, bathing stream. Dream of koi to nibble my toes, as a gentle breeze tousles my unsheltered hair. Where deer and other wildlife come to lick in that bath, nuzzle my ear. Where I can...sorry, got to go. Just say the car rounding the corner. Got to look like I'm doing something, or still asleep. Whatever. Just another rambling that sort of makes a point, but doesn't strain to create a solid piece of writing to function like a normal topic/dissertation/(word here) for consumptive, illuminating minds to follow the way it should. I'm not even sure what I just typed. Just got to go. |
Thanks to Warped Sanity  's newsletter (I should hunt down link), I wrote:"This is interesting. I hope to learn more. I found the link to this in newsfeed. I thought about attaching my reply there, but want to contribute to this newsletter foremost my reaction and thoughts (to give at least one person a better vibe about me): I'm self-confident in arenas where I'm not diminished. I find with writing or being on a basketball court, I'm in the right element. There are good days and bad days as with anything, but I have the confidence to override and even influence a few around me. We can be having so much fun, we don't want to quit. We do form bonds and associations in this way, as we 'vibe'. There are negative elements in these arenas, too. Some come with a different narrative and try to find someone else, even me, to blame for their bad day. They also divide, try to influence others against my good intentions, as if they were bad. These people just haven't figured out that it centers around their own aura. I'm learning to lean away from these people so I can shine on my own, wherever I am. It's tough sometimes not got get caught up in someone else's bad day or obvious negative perception of me. I can read the room, now that I am older and wiser. I'm more at peace as I age and don't work as hard, as if I would be empty if I don't please others. I just need to take care of myself, attune. Writing and exercising are great ways to express, decompress and release whatever is trapped inside...for me." I'm working too hard at proving my value to others some days, when I keep driving through subjects and more that cause me to opine and get into old unresolved feelings and thoughts that I thought I was done with, to see them surface again. It's like anything. an addiction; you try to kick the habit. But, you're on your own, no sponsor. It's hard to find people who can get on the same page with me, who'll (for real) be in my corner. I've found a few that remain, some new, but many who won't come over the fence between us to meet, visit again. And, I probably am the same. Knowing the neighbors in this community is difficult when I need to put a face or something iconic to a name. So, I keep to myself more than I intend. When I put myself out there, it's more than people want to know, or need to know. And, while brevity is my friend, it does not untethered what still anchors in my soul, waiting for some kind of approval from some unknown master for release. I'll plow through millions of pages of internet offerings hoping I'll meet with something, myself to say this is what you've sought or to just pack it up. I'll sit quiet a day or more, let life sink in a bit. Maybe, not dabble in it, mind erased and do this all over again. Another tack, another way to figure out what it is that needs be said with finality, like seeking perfection. Like death. It's inevitable and unavoidable, but we dream on just the same. And that's what I'll vibe about for now. However it's taken, negative or positive, I feel it's constructive, but not purposely so. 6.20.21 |
| I wrote something today that dovetailed so nicely it made me realize I need to pack it up, rather than double down. I'm not getting enough joy out of life by idling over things, while aiming for perfection, while missing the true beauty that abounds, surrounds. Better stop before I make a poem out of that, too. "Picturing"  Even the entry number on this piece (that I can't edit even a bit) ironically adds to my ongoing theme. Bookmark this life? 6.17.21 |
| I'm like two different people on and off these drugs. What I'm not is sociable or able to defeat this nagging feeling I'm different and rarely finding footing or a place I fit in. It could be a life of experience that taught me how hard it was to read people, hang with them without figuring out some way to either offend them or making our co-existence uncomfortable either the harder I tried or the more I retreatedl. I am ADHD or ADD, depending on what my therapist says. What I don't understand is why she cannot buy into autism or something in that spectrum, because it is common in boys. It is life long. I know when I'm around people, if I don't get a handle on the situation quick, I look peculiar to this people who I can see don't know how to approach or take me. I try to do all the correct things socially, but overcompensate. I don't shut up when I should. No economy of words seems to save me from myself. The is this lifelong obsession with numbers, order and treating objects as living things. I could be absorbed for hours with the simplest of things. I discovered 3d images in woodwork and tile before it was a thing. I told awkward jokes and made fun of people because it was the type of humor I was raised with. I butted heads with friends, but I couldn't explain why I never kept one childhood friend or lasting relationship for the first 33 years of my life. I still have people teaching me the correct way to behave, or get the right read on situations. I don't think it's far-fetched to believe that the trauma I endured in childhood remains with me still because of this. I don't trust people, became cynical and defensive. I'm prone to overreact and become dramatic or emotional of situations that just requires me to take a beat, rather than let old fears seep back in. I tend to idle of the needless, rather than focus on things that could give back to me. Though, I am reordering priority based on results, it's never an easy thing. At least, it made me good at collecting money, which I like to count. My internet searches and the hours I have spent chasing one notion to other for what seems like forever has consumed me and a lot of my eyesight over the years. There's so much I should have known that I'm discovering, but I get too engrossed and lost in it all and lose precious hours a day. Sometimes, it benefits me when I write. So, there's that. So, everything works out for me, except I consider myself friendless since my teen years. I'm afraid to count on somehow, because of how traumatic losing a person, let alone getting to know them, can be. I'm trapped in this ideal of perfection and always wanting to say the right thing, sound smart, because I suffered a lot of humifaction from distractions that lead to ignorance. I'll keep working with my therapist. She hasn't got the full picture yet. This is more than you need to know about me. But, I write and I share so I can learn and get better. It took me 14 years to figure this place out, and still learning. 6.15.21 edit and/or add more later. |
| I prefer the first with no sound: Forever, (the original) Emma Peel: And, forever Cake! |
| If you piss off an empowered person, they will use their resources to crush you. (If they shun you, that means they noticed you are a perceived threat) And, if they employ the ignorant masses, it can get very lonely and/or contentious to assert oneself. As a lone voice in the fog, you can reach help, though you do not know what you will find. As a lone individual looking for others wandering, perhaps you will find the light together. If that empowered one was not able to utilize resources, the masses who educate themselves to respect the lost, maybe their is hope for all of us. 6.9.21 |
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In the Falkland Islands, internet is very limited and very expensive. The place I'm currently staying only lets me use it in the middle of the night, so when I have to get up at 3 am to check my texts (no cell service to the US here unless I'm on the internet) or WdC, I don't do nearly as much as I used to. 
I currently have 2 very long emails I still need to get to from several days ago. Anyway, I miss everyone, but I also miss sleep, so there's that. 
Have you spoken to the doctor about your vision problems lately? I know there are special glasses for it because I have to wear them to read much ever since the brain injury. It's part of why I now only listen to audiobooks instead of reading regular books. It took 8 years for anyone to diagnose it because I have a brain injury and while one might think it would be obvious to me that I see double, it wasn't. Partly, my brain does a fair job of compensating. But also, partly, you use your brain to realize and understand that the 2 images you constantly see are double vision and something you should mention to your eye doctor. Since my brain was damaged, even basic things like that can escape me. 
I never once thought to mention it, even with annual eye exams in the Army and an exam every 2 years at the VA. Though, in my defense, since it happens in something like 41% of people with a brain injury, it should have been discovered by an eye doctor much sooner. 
I know doing that activity is a CRAP TON of work. But you made a difference in lives, not just his, but for all the people he's reviewed since. 
Well done! 
