Flectere Si Nequeo Superos, Acheronta Movebo. Sorry Princess, Latin Says It Better Without The Translation

I have been up pretty much as long as I normally to tell you the truth.

Got up a little after 5 to get the Elder Duck ready to do the things he needs to do (that means I am the dad that gets him up early so he can play video games before giving up my room all day for him to go to school) and then, normally, even if I don’t fall asleep, I lay in bed for a few hours and gradually acclimate myself to the soul-shattering fact that I need to go a whole day and not be asleep. Sometimes little dude comes up and crashes with me for a bit, which is adorable as it sounds of course.

That was the plan this morning when the power went out.

Now, there isn’t a real reason I couldn’t have stayed in bed, my bedroom is not only cold because I like it that way, but it is also the only room in the house that gets absolutely no direct sunlight into the bedroom proper. It stays cool in there even on the hottest of days, which we are definitely at yet to be sure.

No, the reason I couldn’t stay in there, other than the little squirming child next to me who was bored all of a sudden, was because there was absolutely no noise. I can’t go with absolutely no noise. It freaks the shit out of me and I just don’t do perfectly normal and quiet. Hence the sound machine, the fan when there was one in there, the air conditioner, the diurnal things I listen to. I can’t be absolute silence, it brings up memories of things that I don’t want to have memories of and, regardless of the skills I have learned, it always flips that particular switch.

So I am tired.

Know what else I am?

Soul-crushingly fucking tired.

I don’t have any of the spoons and fucks anymore. There are too many squirrels in my head and I am not going to last much longer if I don’t do anything about it.

So here is what I am going to do.

First, this will be the last thing in here for a bit. Feeling guilty over not writing things that I like to write is idiotic and I refuse to continue on that particular pathway.

Secondly, I love you.

Thirdly, let’s hope this ends sooner rather than later. I do not do myself or any of my people favors when I fo into hermit mode, and I am feeling a pretty strong itch to lay in a quasi-comatose state for 19-23 hours a day with occasional breaks for the food and the bathroom. We all remember what happened the last time I got stupid like that.

So if you know me, text me. If I don’t answer, I probably still think you are awesome?

The title says it all, let’s just hope we can do the former before the latter, yes?

Rawrz

No, I Don’t Want To Read Or Write About This Shit Either, Yet Here We Fucking Are.

I don’t want to talk about isolation and quarantining, about COVID-19 and social distancing, about any or all of the things that are going on in the world right now, but because some stupid people that decided that they needed to go to the beach, Piggly-Wiggly, El Toritos, and Wal-Mart, I have to because to not talk about it is tantamount with agreeing with these barely cognitive human stupid sacks.

You know what? NO ONE likes being inside right now, for the umpteenth week in a row. No governor wants to shut down his state and kill his GDP over this thing. No one wants to have to do this and that. NO ONE.

However, this is a situation that is very much the needs of the many over the needs of the few. Should I allow you to go to your stupid little things and risk getting me and mine sick? Should I not be rising with the same moral vitriol that you are? I don’t want to keep you out of church or to take your fucking guns away. Really. Do you think that us libtards do nothing all day but think about guns? If you’ll remember the script, that’s your thing, not ours. I happen to love guns, I’m even a decent shot with a .45, so keep them, keep ALL of them.

I want this to end so I can go to the fucking gym, walk around a supermarket that has things in it, go grab a beer at a bar and not have to leave as soon as I grab it.

YOU ARE PREVENTING THIS.

Yeah, it fucking sucks. Deal with it, sunshine.

We ALL have to deal with it.

Stop jerking your meat to Trump for 30 seconds and just fucking think.

No virus spread equals you getting to go do the things you like to do, maybe find places where that $1200-totally-not-socialist-at-all-because-this-is-‘Murica check came from to spend it.

Or are you content to wave the flag, which for the record is the flag of the Army of Tennessee under General Joseph E. Johnston and was never once the actual flag of the CFA, and make all of us sit in our homes ad infinitum and then, when you get sick, because fuckers, you will get sick, we start this all over? You ain’t going to get a check again broseph, trust and believe that.

Your Orange Messiah cares as much for you as he does his personal appearance, the fact that it’s obvious he wants to bang his daughter and the state of the country he pretends to run.

Stay your fucking asses at home so that we can do the exact opposite of that once it is safe you selfish, brainwashed, fucking sheep.

Scorpion

I remember when I was about nine or so, I was sitting in the desert a few hundred feet from my house and I was pretty much staring off into the nothingness of the Mojave. There is a lot of nothing in the high desert in California. Oh don’t get me wrong, there are Joshua trees and cacti, pricker bushes and even the ever stereotypical tumbleweed mostly though there is nothing but miles of uninterrupted views. You can see the mountains in the distance and, if it is the right time of year, snow at the peaks that the desert can only really dream of having, at least in any substantial quantity.

So there I was sitting against one of the thousands of abandoned cars that litter the desert near any housing development, or civilization at all. I looked down, couldn’t tell you why really, and there was a scorpion, maybe the length of my pinkie, just sitting there on my thigh. Not menacing, just getting onto something more refreshing than the oppressively hot sand it spent its entire life trying not to get cooked on. You get used to things crawling on you if you like to sit out in the nothing as I did. Mostly it was things like beetles and scorpions, but occasionally it would be a snake or one of the thousands of rodents that call the desert home.

There was a lot of sun left in the sky, so I just let the scorpion sit there on my leg, and I sat still, the swelling starting to show on my right eye, the views kept getting more and more skewed as it closes a little bit more every minute or so. The copper taste of blood was still in my mouth too, I tried not to worry the hole where the tooth had come out of, the blood would clot soon enough, and I hadn’t brought any water with me to keep washing blood out of my mouth. I had just left, no shoes or shirt, just a pair of ratty jeans and whatever book I saw first on the way out of the door. Mom was really into the Harlequin Romance books then, so it was most likely one of those. I tried to keep things in my bedroom, but she got to me in the garage, and I ran through the living room, so I didn’t have a chance to get anything.

The sky was this blue that you only see if you get very far away from anything Los Angeles related. There was still a horrible smog problem at the time, but out in Lancaster, it was this vibrant blue that seemed almost fake to someone who learned how to say chlorofluorocarbon far too early in life. It made even the starkness of the desert pop, and every thing out there had this almost aura of light around it from the brightness and the heat of the day.

Dad wouldn’t be home for days, he had left for work on Monday, and it was only Wednesday. Tommy had been a little shit to Andy, so I had yelled at him, and that is what got mom roaring towards me in the first place. When she wasn’t completely gone on her anti-depression and anti-anxiety medication, she was a goddamn juggernaut who couldn’t be stopped or reasoned with.

You learned to turn your face just the right way so you wouldn’t get it all in the eye.

I looked down again and saw the little scorpion wandering away to continue its fight for survival and, with a sigh, I decided it was time I got back to mine.