This Is What I Do When I Have Way Too Much Time To Think And Not Enough Time To Process The Thoughts

Here I am again, I decided to see what I could do in a finite period because I am bored and bored people come up with ways to challenge themselves that they may not do normally. As I cannot do a story because of reasons, I am essentially going to do a stream of consciousness writing and whatever comes into my head will be what ends up on the paper. With the exceptions of major typos and slight structure corrections, I will not change a word once I begin the piece.


So I was writing that thing earlier and even as I did I knew that I wasn’t happy with it because I excluded, on accident and on purpose, people who truly deserved to be there. I am listening to Confusion by New Order, the Pump Panel Reconstruction Remix version and it is a base beat that helps me focus and, awesomely, it is about as fast as I can type when I am doing something like this so it sets a decent pace. Back tot he people I left out. I didn’t do it to scorn them, not at all. Some people I would not name because they would prefer I didn’t and a few would actually get royally pissed off at me if I were to put them in writing of any kind. Truthfully? I think that is a huge fucking shit thing. I get privacy, I do. The people who just don’\t wanna, get over yourself and accept the fact that information is a free thing. If I am going to write about you from now on, well, I am just going to do it, You can yell at me after the fact.

I think the fact that I decided to do what I am doing right now is a telling thing to tell you the truth. I mean, I have all these projects I can be working on and instead I am seeing how many words I can type in X minutes to feed the fragility that is my ego. Or is it superego? I never could remember the difference when it mattered. I suppose it is a little of both as it is conscious and unconscious at the same time, but maybe that is me making up an answer to fit the things I am trying to say. I mean, it is a thing people do right? I am pretty sure that I know what I am saying, but then again most of the psychology I know has been gleaned by the ones I myself have seen professionally.


When I was in kindergarten I had a crush on this girl named Tiffany. Now all Tiffany wanted in the world was a Cabbage Patch Doll so I told her that no matter what I was going to get her one. Even then on the toxic white knight thing am I right? So anyway I go home and I tell my mother that I need to get this thing for my girlfriend, mostly because she was both the first and second parts of that compound word and not the other meanings attached to it, and my mother laughed at me and then hit me hard in the face with the phone she had been talking on. It was this old house phone that was just past the rotary stage and when she hit me with it I got this cut under my left eye that, if you wanna get REALLY friendly close, you can see today. I was bleeding all over everything so she got mad about that and clipped me along the side of the head and got me in the car and drove me down to the hospital in Northridge and on the way there she fed me the story of what I was supposed to say and everything to back it all up. I go in there, the doctor sees it, asks my mom to leave, I tell the doc she swung on me, he calls CPS and I get removed from the house.

2 Days.

I am back in the house and to say m mother is pissed is an understatement and to let all of the evil things slide by would be a disservice so I will say that I didn’t come out of all of that the same as I went in and I have some marks from it thirty-some years later that look like things they are not.


No, no moral at all. If the woman had any morals to speak of she wouldn’t have kicked the shit out of her oldest son like he was a soccer ball at a quinceañera party, you know? Unfortunately for me, it was the spring break or something and I had all the time in the world to heal up before I got back and by then the fear was in me so deep that I never said word one about it again until I started to talk to my therapists about it as an adult. That shit leave marks you can’t see too.

Back to the basics.

I know that I ask a lot of all of you. I know I am not the most mentally sound. Hell I know there is a decent chunk of you who pick and choose what I say that you want to believe that day and, you know what, that’s okay. I have done some horrible lying in my way and I should be treated with a somewhat extended hand before you accept anything. Yes, it hurts like a motherfucker, why would I ever deny that, but it is the truth and that means more than anything at the end of the day.


So I am going to write even more than this tomorrow because I can and because it is Friday and because, because, because I think it is a thing I can do well and it will get all the demons I have in my head out of my head and shove them out into the universe to get as diluted as they can before I inevitably fill up the container in my head they are in again and again and I do this a few times in the future and all of that.


I love all of you more than I should. I know that. I do deep dives when I love people and I never remember that most people don’t do that so when it inevitably comes up that LOVE and love are not a compatible thing, compromises are made and LOVE turns into, well, it turns into a lot of things doesn’t it? No, not the sexual love, not always. Hell yeah I want to have sex with some of my friends, i even tell a large portion of them that very thing. However I do it too often and it makes me look like a fucking loon so I am actively trying to stop doing it…..e writes after just doing it again. Well, Like I said it is a thing I am trying to do and will I ever achieve what I wasn’t? Hello if I know, I just know that I need to be the things people need because that is who and what I have forced myself to be in the last three decades and I am pretty sure it is too late to just start everything all over and decide that maybe I don’t want to be some of the things people have come to love the most about me.

Some of them anyway,

I was the Bear before I was anything else and I am fine staying that as long as people will maybe think before they say all the things they do about how feeling and thing and being a thing are different. Maybe there are differences, yes, but never tell someone that their belief structure is wrong simply because it is a thing you think you can do and not get punched in the face. I haven’t done the punch the people in the face in a long time and I really kind of miss it actually, so I think I have that going for/against me in the grand scheme of things. I don’t know when this thing got off the rails but I am not even sure I know what the hell the track is, never mind where the hell the track is. Maybe it is something I can find as I write more and more both today and tomorrow and moving forward One thing about this social distancing thing is that no matter what no one can tell you how much of an asshole you are being for not seeing them unless, but by the very definition of social distancing they are indeed being the assholes that they are accusing you of being.

Sense? Any? Maybe?

I think I am almost out of time I on the time I set so I will tell everyone that I love them one more time and before you all go to bed in your beds tonight and forget everything I am writing here and most of the things you have read and thought of today remember that sometimes people hear you when you don’t think they do, they see things maybe they aren’t supposed to see and they feel things you apparently think it is not possible for them to feel.

Rawrz and stuff.

The Mind Of An Introvert In Consensual, Non-Consensual, Social Isolation – Day The Wednesday

So, when I am in a position where I am forced to think even more than I normally do, such as being in the same room for forty and fifty hours at a time, I try to think of things I can say to people who are, in this case at least, in a similar situation, to see if I can help their brains as they are all so very good at helping me every single time I ask, which is so very often.

I try to think of ways to tell them how they are appreciated and how I value them in all the ways I do. Except, in my head at least, it all gets to be this repetitive, trite-sounding, mealy-mouthed words that I say over and over again. Which, as you can imagine, does nothing for the airplane taking off in my head demanding to fix the problem that I am having and say the things I need to say to make the feelings feel the way the feelings should feel and all of that.

So then I try to over-explain what I feel to these people and it ends up this gigantic clusterfuck of nothing and everything and whatever message I was originally trying for is so hopelessly lost in the barrage of bullshit being projected from my mouth that I need to just stop and waddle, humiliated, over to my dark corner of the world.

So, instead, I am going to just vomit all of this up and hopefully, you can sift through the detritus, flotsam, and jetsam of it all and see if any of it applies to you.

I know I have been a live nerve for the last few months. I know I have been annoying and moodier than even I normally am and this raging ball of bullshit, but it is who I am. All of y’all taught me not to apologize for being me so I won’t do that. I do want to say that I know that I have said some fucked up things to some of you and I am so very sorry for doing that.

I want to tell you that there is no way I could have survived, at least mentally, this COVID-19 thing without the help of the awesome science humans I know who sat me down and very carefully explained to me why some of my fears were misplaced and, yes, why some of them were in fact very real. It allowed me to get prepared in a good way and not panic and buy 37 cases of toilet paper and no food. These people helped me make sure my babies were safe and taken care of from this thing in the ways that they needed to be.

I want to tell my best friend that I think that she is a goddamn superhero who puts up with my shit way more than any other living thing in the world combined. I do not deserve her in my life in the slightest and the fact that she can somehow make the entirety of the world stop spinning so I can do a simple thing like laugh means more to me than I can easily express without, well, doing things like this.

My friends whom I text at the ungodly times of the morning, the friends with kids who still take the time to make sure I am OK, the friends whose lives are just as chaotic, if not more so, than mine is. The heroes that still go to work outside their home in this, the champions that are working from home still. The mothers and sisters, brothers and nieces that have adopted me just as much as I have adopted them.

People who I have known forever and people I am only now getting to truly know, you have shown compassion to me and mine and while I will never believe I deserve it, I appreciate it more than you can ever possibly fathom.

Thank you for being the net I fall into every time the world gets to be chaos and I can’t accept that.


The Card – Rickson

The detective bent low over the body. He had gotten the okay from the tech guys that they had all the pics they needed so, after donning a pair of nitrile gloves, he looked down at what was left of a human being at his feet.

The head had been severed and was still actively being searched for. The hands looked like they had been whacked with something over and over until they were just sacks of flesh containing bits of bone, at least what bones hadn’t already come out and were, like the head, being looked for in the flat that the deceased had been found in. There were bruises and cuts everywhere on the torso. Distinctive marks from what looked like a baseball bat crossed upward from the left hip to the right shoulder.

It was just a bad scene all around. The detective shook his head and carefully reached into the victim’s pocket and almost immediately pulled it out because he could swear he had fucking stabbed himself on something. Afraid that it had been a junkie hypodermic, he quickly, but carefully, repeated the procedure and breathed a sigh of relief when he could find nothing resembling a needle or a blade in the pockets. In fact, all that was in there was this black card.

It was shiny, like one of those cards from that game where you come up with horrible answers to things. It was glossy and mirrored the light perfectly. Despite what had happened to the previous owner of it, it was untouched by any wear or tear. Without thinking twice, he slipped the card into his interior suit coat pocket and continued with his investigation, finding it weird he hadn’t found anything in the pocket after he had just felt a sting come it. He was just happy he didn’t have to go through the tests for HIV and Hepatitis.


The detective, Rickson, sat down at his desk with a fresh cup of tea and saw that the autopsy report on John Doe from the other night was on his desk. A little early for gore and horror, but it went with the job. He took a sip from the tea and opened the report. Apparently they had found a wallet on the corpse that identified as a man named Alphonse Jacobi. A work-from-home accountant for the big firms. Massive internal bleeding was the cause of death, apparently, all signs pointed to him being alive when all of the injuries were sustained, the head was removed post-mortum for reasons as of yet unknown. Those things that were missing, the head and miscellaneous bone fragments, had yet to be found and a deep search of the area surrounding the flat was being conducted even as he read this grisly report in front of him.

He stretched, his arms shooting out to both sides and bunching his jacket like always happened. When he put his arms back down he noticed a black card on his desk. A shiny, black card, a playing card? It was completely devoid of detail, at least on the side that he could see. He picked it up and flipped it over and there was an email address printed neatly on it. Eyebrow raised in curiosity Rickson logged into his computer and put the email address through the database with no luck. The domain didn’t have any websites and, without getting the tech guys involved, that was all he would be able to tell.

His questioning getting the better of him, Rickson pulled out his mobile and opened the email app and placed the email address in the To field and simply sent a message saying hello. He hit send without a second thought and put his phone down and took another sip of his tea while he turned the card over in his hand. It felt like it should mean something, it was tickling some part of his brain but he couldn’t quite place it no matter how hard he tried.

He heard his phone buzz on the table and he picked it up and looked at the screen and saw that the email had been answered:


Well, wasn’t this just a big pile of shit all of a sudden.

I Am Definitely No Baz Luhrmann, Not By A Long Shot, Or A Billy Joel For That Matter

I turned forty the other day and, if I talk to you with any frequency, you know I was not a particular fan of this grand event. Don’t get me wrong, I am over it for the most part now and it sure as hell beats the alternative, right?

There is no wisdom I can convey to tell you how to be whatever emotion it is you want to be when you turn whatever age it is you are about to turn. I am here out of a combination of being arrested and going to jail, finding the right woman at last and dumb fucking luck. If you want to know how to do things, as someone who actually knows, or at least someone who would give you better guesses than I.

That is not to say I don’t have a few tips to get you from whatever number you are at to the next number you will be at. I am not going to bust into a rendition of Sunscreen or, for those of you old enough to appreciate it, We Didn’t Start The Fire.

So, in no particular order, here are the Bear’s Keys To Stuff and Things. ()

  • Drink a fuckton of water. If you need to lookup a fuckton, that is good, it means blind obedience isn’t your thing.
  • Don’t ever forget that even if you believe in reincarnation and know you will be back, this life is worth living to the fullest.
  • There is no such thing as a free anything.
  • Movie remakes are never better than the originals.
  • The books are always better if they came first.
  • Pizza is an art piece, use your imagination.
  • Sex feels good, so leave people alone who do it differently than you.
  • Hating people? Passe much bro?
  • Listen to scientists, the Horror movie industry got that right.
  • Lastly, and most importantly, love.

Yeah, it was stupid and cheesy and you know what, that is okay because I haven’t had a whole cup of coffee yet, so there.

The Mind Of An Introvert In Consensual, Non-Consensual, Social Isolation – Day The Tuesday

I had to go out today. Well, I mean, I didn’t but I did. I went to CVS with Terry to get prescriptions and while I was there I might have bought $40 worth of candy, that I then totally wiped down and sterilized as soon as I got home, then repeated the procedure on myself.

After this, if there is an after this, if I ever see a goddamn baby wipe that isn’t being used to wipe a fucking baby I am going to make it scream in pain like the ashen palms of my hands are screaming as we speak.

A weird sentence I know.

You will note the longer I am in the same house with my children I will become more and more prolific in my writing until a point where I cannot promise that food and water will be as important to me as the tactile orgasm of this little wireless keyboard I have sitting on top of the dead keyboard on this busted ass laptop.

I love my children and them being home is not the issue, not at all. Shit, if you know me at all you know I keep[ my Ducks home too much rather than the other way around. No, the issue is that it is all forced like this.

Now I am not saying we should leave the house, because fuck and that, #StayTheFuckHome.

No, I agree with all of the restrictions if it keeps my Ducks even the most minute amount safer during all of this. Yes, it is inconvenient and annoying to everyone. Yes, I know we are in an economic tailspin, but how are we supposed to be not those things if enough of us get this thing where it is 30, 40, 50 percent unemployment for two decades until the age gap closes again?

I am drinking too much coffee, emotionally eating way too much food and going to bed too late and not getting a lick of sleep until way too early in the morning. It makes for long days, trying days, annoying days.

However, I, like many of you, know someone who has to work in all of this chaos. I know nurses who I cannot imagine are anything short of both terrified and fucking superheroes. Mothers who are so scared they are brave, fathers who are trying everything they can to assuage fears they feel just as strongly.

It can always get fucking worse.

Or, if you are of a slightly Jesus tilt, just remember the old adage. “There but for the Grace of God, go I.” Savor the sweet moments, be strong through the roughest waves, be kind and compassionate to those who do not have the ability to sit at home and work and, most importantly.

Remember this was, at least in part, avoidable and get your ass out to the polls in November, even if you do have to be six feet apart still.