I Used Sisyphean AND Tantalus, So, I Get Bonus Points I Think, Don’t You?

There are so many things that I want to say to people that I am terrified to say to them because if they reject me, that’s it, I will shrivel and hide in a fucking corner until the end of time and pretend that I was never a thing, never mind a vague humanoid type thing. I am pretty sure that is the thing in the Universe I am more terrified than anything else. Not death, not meeting my Goddess, not seeing those who will demand answers that I will never know, but to be discarded like refuse on the highway and forgotten about before I even leave their hand all the way.

It is not the existential that drives my mind into the darkness of itself. It is not the fears of the afterlife, it is the stark and very real terror of being completely abandoned. I am very aware that this is a fear that most people seem to take care of when they are far, far younger than the forty I am turning on Monday. In fact, I am positive all the things I have been feeling for the last three or four weeks are directly tied to that particular fact. I can say that age is just a number and all of the other things, but I never expected to get out of my teens, forty is terrifying beyond rational thought.

So, that is where the lizard brain is.

The Bear, however, is in a completely different frame of mind, or at least a chunk of the Bear.

See, forty is a motherfucking milestone. It’s a huge thing. As I said, I got past seventeen, I am living on time that is beyond borrowed, this is the compounded daily shit the mob charges you when you go to Louie the Knife to see if you can borrow enough to pay off the other guy you borrowed money from. I have made mistakes that only can be made when you make other mistakes. I have hurt people, myself, and all of
that bullshit.

So, here I am.

Fourteen thousand, six hundred and seven days old.

Maybe life is not the Sisyphean horror show that I keep thinking it is. Maybe I am not the Tantalus of lore and just a normal guy who finally got his head just far enough out of his ass to live a life, marry a wonder, have gorgeous children and now I just need to stop and fucking enjoy some shit.

Let’s do this?

Radio Silence

I don’t take breaks from social media very often, and when I do it is mostly because I have a huge upset in me that I need to process and I don’t particularly want to do that in front of my closest friends and chosen family. I am well aware that they, you, will help me with everything that I need help with because you have a thousand times before and I promise you will a thousand times after this.

I am reevaluating my presence on social media completely. Why do I need to be on SO many things? I’m on Mastodon for fuck’s sake, NO ONE is on Mastodon. Twitter and Facebook, MeWe and Tumblr, LiveJournal (yes, that one) and Discord. Why do I need to have that many people have access to the things I am thinking and feeling? I know I am a Stage 24 clinger but I don’t need that many people knowing what the fuck is going on, and not going on, in my head, do I? Do I really need to tell people how sad I am every day? How much that or this hurts? How much I miss Her? Does EVERYONE need to know EVERYTHING?

No, they don’t…….I do though.

I need to tell things, whether it is editorialized things like this or a fantasy of dark faerie queen.

It’s like Rilke says, “If, when you wake up in the morning, you can think of nothing but writing . . . then you are a writer.”

I can’t remember the last time I woke up not wanting to write, I don’t know if I ever have done such a thing since I found the notebook by the dumpster at some no-name motel in Sylmar, California almost 35 years ago and just started writing how much I hated her and how bad it hurt.

I wrote then as I write now, and the pain goes away, even for a few minutes, maybe an hour. I write a story and I can make others happy. I write a book, maybe I will never feel the pain again?

See, you did help me, you do. Every time you read something of mine, you help. Every time you like it, or even casually mention it, that pain just ebbs a bit, not even as much as a moment, but it is there and I will love all of you forever for it.

As A Wise And Sweetheart Kitten Said, Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead

It isn’t that I forget what today is. I don’t try to hide from it at all anymore. I simply have, I think, got to the point where I do not let it hit me so hard as it once did. Plus, since it is mom, it is never a bad thing to just let it pass as uneventfully as possible. This year I thought I would write something, well, something instead of letting the day pass unremarked upon.

For years now I have been trying to come to terms with this well of anger I have inside of me that is towards my mother. Not because it is ruining my life it has helped it along in a few different ways I can think of off the top of my head. No, I want to come to grips with it because it is simply a thing I do not want to have to handle anymore.

I want to be able to think of my late wife on Mothers Day, of my best friend, of all of the mothers I know that are fantastic in every way that you can be fantastic and flawed all the same instead of thinking of the darkest and most violent period of my life. I want to be able to tell a story about a thing and not have my fucking brain start to tell me how it would have been even better had SHE, yes in caps and bolded, not been there to ruin it all for me at the end of the things.

I am not going to make some proclamation that I am never going to get on the evil feels train again, that would be stupid because if I know anything about myself, it is that I am always capable of feeling things I do not want to feel, ESPECIALLY at times I do not want to feel them. What I can do however is try and be mindful of what my thoughts are and, if I can, redirect them to something more positive when I get those thoughts and images that I do not want to have, and if I can’t redirect them, at least be aware that they are influencing me at that point.

Other than that, I am just going to do the one thing that I know would piss her off the most.

Live life the way I fucking want to.

Once Someone Else Gives You The Answer, It’s Really Easy, You Know?

I think the issue at hand is that I am trying to use the wrong format to write things to the world every day. I wrote these, as you are all are intelligent enough to see, as a discussion twixt you and I. The problem with that is that the nuance of what I am trying to say is lost. Not by any fault of the reader of course, but by the medium and its particular lack of interactivity as a whole.

A dear and wonderful friend suggested a thing to me that I never thought of doing before, so I am going to try that, not today as I have plans, but I will start Monday I think, maybe Tuesday if the gym is too intense, but we shall see there. It won’t be a lot of work as much as it will be a lot of editing, a thing that I universally despise, but in this sense, I think it actually will produce a much better product than before and The Book, its glory indicated by its capitalization here, will be easier to begin I think.

No one makes movies where the bad guys win unless they are in some way horror-based, so I thought to myself many a fortnight ago that why do the “bad guys” need to be bad in and of themselves. I know it is one of those moral things we all need to make up our mind about, but I think it is easy enough to decipher, or not.

So, all that having been said, Dawny love, you are going to get precisely what you suggested and I am going to write about our dear Edward, I am going to start much, MUCH, before where you might think I am going to and I am just going to see where it takes me. I know I can write it, I did already, this is merely fleshing out the things that were already there and seeing them development in much more dimensions than I had previously let them exist in.

So, on that note, I am going to go take a shower because they are awesome and my muscles hurt and I will update things as things get updated.

RAWRZ Bitches

Cleaning Day

I have this penchant for formatting my hard drives on my computers. It is kind of a very not-funny, and very well known thing about me. I do not like things to stay the same for very long at all on them and I will just ditch everything on a moment’s notice and go ahead and start from scratch. So, as you no doubt have already guessed, I occasionally do this my life, today is one of those days.

Not quite the whole “full erasure of all things and people, salt the fucking earth” methodology that has failed me spectacularly in the past, but more of a gentle weeding out of those people who, on a daily basis, contribute nothing to my life or, more importantly, I contribute nothing of importance to theirs. I am not as shallow to think that I am the one who matters, but if I am giving them nothing at all, then why bother.


For starters, there is a list. A list of people that will never get affected by anything like this. If you have to ask, then no, you probably aren’t. If you insist on asking, well, I will tell you as gently as possible I suppose.

Second, and finally really, if you and I have no meaningful anything with one another and have not for some time, then why do we need to pretend we are anything more than acquaintances at this point. I have a horrible habit of having dozens and dozens of people in my life that, well, don’t care who or what I am, and they have me in their life for a singular purpose, whatever that may be to that particular person.

So, I am going to go do that thing now, probably kill my computer for funsies too.