Hello Gentle Readers,
I know I have been gone a few days, I had some things that needed to be processed both internally and otherwise and I thought it best if I perhaps did not do that publicly, kind of like chewing with your mouth open if you will, bad form and no one really needs to see that shit.
Now, I have decided that it is time to once again rejoin the world and, I must say, I am not impressed with what I see. One thing, in particular, has been stuck in my mind and I think I will take the time to sit here and talk about it and maybe you can understand why I am upset by it.
A person whom I have decided not to name saw fit to assign a name to at this point asked me, via a private message on Facebook, if I could perhaps not, and I will quote directly here for clarity’s sake, “write one of those things that says you are thankful for and to people for things. it is tacky and no one buys it anymore.” (Grammatical Errors courtesy of the missive maker.)
So, I am wont to do things like this, write multiple thousand-word thank you notes to people for being kind and loving and supporting of me. How dare I? How dare I make sure these people know that they are the reason I am not a body on a floor full to overflowing with prescription pills or containing more holes than the good Goddess saw fit to give me, to begin with.
How dare I tell people I love them with every ounce of who I am for saving my life and my sanity after my Naomi died, or after I have had a particularly troubling depressive episode. How dare I, dare I say it, apologize to these people for the hurts and wrongs I have done to them via a written communique for all to see. I am such a selfish little bitch for wanting people to know how much they are loved, appreciated, cared for, loved and cherished.
However, this little fit of pique aside, I am in a delightful mood truth be told. I got through a tough time with neither liquor or sleep as the crutch I have used in times of grief. I did what needed doing and, I am quite proud of that to be sure.
For those of you who are wondering if I will be so decadent and extra as to write a note telling people how much I love and care for them.
Oh yes, storytime has not gone away my loves, I just needed to get my mind right first.
Tomorrow we will get back tot he delights of the darkness
© 2019, TheJameyBear. All rights reserved.
I am JameyBear. Liberal. Hippie. Dad. Widower. Poet. Author. Sarcastic Ass. Friend. Lover. Hater.
I have lied and cheated, stolen and done violence in word and deed.
I have given the shirt off my back and they wanted the skin underneath instead.
I am a notorious soft touch, wearing my heart on my sleeve and wanting to make everyone happy.
I tip too much, too often, too many places, and it is has burned me even as recent as this week.
I love everyone I have ever hated still. I will always love the memory of being in love with them.
I want to be your friend. No. I want you to want me to be your friend.
I am clingy and needy, dependent and hopelessly lost in times that I will never live in.
I use language that was archaic when archaic was a new word in the early 19th century.
I want to record myself reading everything so people won’t forget me when I disappear.
I talk too much, listen too deeply, process too quickly and infer way too much.
My beard is also better than yours