I go to a job everyday which I hate and am not appreciated.
I come home to a house that at one time was full of life and my family; I now come home to the screaming sound of silence. It is physically painful.
But I keep on going. Some days, hell, most days, I have no idea why.
I will make it. I will survive.
One day, I will try and find happiness again, right now I just try to find motivation to get up.
Was once one of my fav movies. Always gave me hope. I always figure that no matter what, we would make it
Now
I see it as bullshit
Ok, everyone needs to know that this is a cathartic post. It is also a mind dump. This is going to be a free flow of thoughts that may or may not make sense. It may also piss some people off. I do not care. I need to express my thoughts. I do not even know if I believe some of what I am about to type.
You have been warned.
(more…)
August 25, 1967——-My parents get married
August 25, 1999——-The first girl I have ever impregnated informs me she has miscarried
August 25, 2004——-My wife ask me about if I had an affair. I confess.
August 25, 2008——-da Twinsies start school
What is it about this date????
Today, I found out about the death of a co-worker. And unlike the last one I wrote about (Frightening that it was not that long ago this topic came up), this co-worker and I got along rather well. But what struck me as sad is that as of right now, no one knows exactly when he passed. He was found dead at his place of residence.
Dead.
Alone.
I should have called and check on him. I should have asked about him a bit more. But I did not.
It does get me to thinking though. If I was to pass at my house, how long would it be until someone looked for me?
I used to joke that it was my goal in life to be in a history book.
My greatest fear has always been not to be known or remembered. This plays on my fears more than anyone can ever imagine.
Good-Bye my friend. Rest in Peace. You are missed.
Today I realized that I need to seek professional help, need stronger medications, or need to seriously start drinking more and heavier?
My Pencil broke today. My special pencil. I realized that I have had this pencil for nearly 10 years.
It was really a conglomeration of different pencils, a couple of automatic pencils that I made into one. I put this pencil together before I met my wife. It was before da Twinsies. It was before the Daughter that past away.
It was / they were Zebra 301(s).
The barrel was black, the end cap and tip were a marroon they no longer make. Today the pencil broke, and I decided to move on.
It probably could have been rebuilt, but the soul of the pencil was no longer there. I knew it was time to retire the old soldier.
Th loss of this pencil really upset me. And is still upsetting me a bit. Just the knowledge of how long I have had this pencil, and what all it had been with me through.
Weird? Yeah, it was not until it finally broke that I realized all of this.
Good bye, my pencil. It was fun while it lasted……….
I feel as if I am walking a tight rope. One side has misery; the other has perpetual pain.
And someone is on the other end of the high wire, shaking it…….
Barogelmon truly loved his garden. Over the years he had cultivated many flowers. Usually he would only have one flower at a time in his garden. At time he would allow more than one to grow, but not often. Every so often a wild rose, or wild vine would grow into the garden, but Barogelmon tried to keep the only one flower growing at a time. As most people who have ever gardened can attest to, he was not able to always do this. Barogelmon;s garden is now empty of everything he has tried to cultivate. All the flowers have gone. Some seeds that he recently tried to plant did not take root. The flowers that he had spent so long cultivating in the past have gone. His garden looks bare.
But, in the back corner there is a wild flower. One of the flowers that has come and gone for many years.
Should he try to cultivate this flower? Or should he let it just grow free? Or, knowing that all flowers die in the end, stop it growth before it develops roots?
Most of them lead lives of unquiet desperation, continually seeking, in sex they wish was love and in the love they suspect is only sex, a center for their worlds to turn on.
—David Dempsey
Last night my sister drug me to a Singles group that she belongs to where they were teaching evryone to "Salsa". I made it quite clear to her that I really did not want to go, but I would go for her. I also made it clear that I planed to sit in a corner, drink my beer and watch the baseball game. And that is what I did for the most part
However, for a good part of the evening, I spend watching the sad, lonely desperate men. Now that is a funny statement coming from me, since I am sitting and still pining away for da Missus. But, I was still amused.
Everything was so……forced.
It became clear to me rather early, that the females were there to socialize, have fun, and dance. If they met someone, that was just a byproduct of their primary goal.The guys however, were trying to get laid. And get laid quick.
They all talked to much. They all laughed too long and too hard. Nothing seemed natural. And very few of them seemed to be having real "fun". Oh, yeah, they seemingly enjoyed it, but, as with everything else, it presented itself as a facade.
I had people checking on me all evening, to make sure I was ok and to make sure I was having fun. I had a blast. I spent the entire evening laughing.
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