Honing In

I get lost in the weeds, occasionally.

But, I’m working on figuring out what my focus really is, again. Do I want to continue posting here? Am I going to continue the rambles that meander all over, or start pinpointing certain topics?

Is this medium “dead” for me now?

*sigh* I don’t have all that figured yet. I still enjoy the fact that I have this outlet to vent, when I need it, but – is it the right avenue for me anymore?

So many puzzle pieces left to place.

I need a way to express myself.

Blogging has been there, solidly, for me for YEARS.

But, with the threat of AI, with artists & writers having their voices & words stolen…

Where is safety?

Does it exist at all?

Or, by writing these posts, am I giving agency over to some bot for my work to be snatched, plagiarized, sold?

…….pffft. I just don’t know, anymore.

Brain Bombed

Just got home after almost 3 & 1/2 hours in a dentist’s chair.

My vertigo has me spinning like a gyroscope, from all the “lay back, sit up” bullshit. And I’m completely overstimulated from having all the various tools & people’s hands in my facehole for that long.

My ElderDaughter & I call it being “blown out”, like looking at a computer screen after a cpu fries from visual overload; everything explodes, then there’s a snowy white screen, with brown noise & a high-pitched whine coming from somewhere that you can neither identify, nor shut off.

I desperately need to do a hard reset of my cerebellum.

So, for me, that meant blasting loud music, with lots of bass on the way home, then some silence with acoustic oscillating fan noises in my rv.

Next up, I’m fucking starving, because I haven’t eaten yet today, cause – dentist. So, I have to figure out what I can eat with half my face not registering as functional.

I’d take a nap, but that would completely demolish the rest of my day. Naps don’t work for me like other folx. I end up cranky, hangry, & a lot of times, with a migraine.

So, let’s try to fix the rest of this fuck-all day with some Italian Wedding soup, a handful of crackers crushed in there, & a BIG serving of caffeinated energy drink.

Phockinell, I hate dental days.

Silent Sunday 4/14/24

Memory, Now, & Dreams

Had a talk with a friend, today, and it got me to pondering.

We, as human beings, are all a concantenation of our experiences, thoughts, & feelings.

Life is short, & finite, and while beliefs & faith may tell you what happens after you shuffle off the mortal coil, none of us will really know until it happens to us.

But what do we really have?

Yesterday, doesn’t exist, except in memory. Tangibles, like pictures & keepsakes, are really just bookmarks, or checkpoints, where they trigger those memories of yesterday for us.

Tomorrow, also doesn’t exist, except as hopes and dreams. We dream of things we want, we hope for good things, but it isn’t here yet, so we don’t know that they’ll happen. Tomorrow doesn’t come with a guarantee, it’s not a major appliance. As the old cliche’ reads “Hope in one hand, shit in the other, see which fills up faster.”

All we really, truly have… Is Now.

Now, this day, this moment.

So, what are you going to do with it?

I know that I’m past the midpoint of my story, and am sliding into the epilogue.

I, am going to love as hard as I can, tell those I love, that I love them. Bring as much joy & laughter to as many people as I can, and cheer others on to winning as I am able, with the time I have left.

It might sound morbid, but that’s what happens when you hit the backside of life.

Ya gotta think about

“What am I leaving behind me when I go?”

I want to leave love, and laughter, and fond memories. Maybe some wisdom in the hands of those who can put it to good use.

What I don’t want to leave behind, are regrets, or unanswered questions.

I hope that the world will be a better place where I stood, but I won’t know, once I’ve left.

So, what are you leaving in your wake?

Silent Sunday 3/31/24

Gaming has saved my life.

Who me, change?

I know I’ve let the writing stagnate. There’re a multitude of reasons, & none of which I’m really going to elaborate on, cause… Find my ass to try to make me. (Nephew, don’t even at me, this is me, trying!)

I’m still creating, it’s just been a different medium, within a different venue, & I’ve loved the scenic change.

I’ve also had changes happen in my brain, quite a lot of them, & when I DO write here again, it probably won’t sound the same, because of those shifts in consciousness.

Time marches, and all that noise.

I am, however, going to work on getting back in the literary swing, & figure out if my fictional muse will still speak to me.

(She’s a little peeved & pouting about the time lapse)

I have a couple story ideas, tho, so let’s see if I can stoke the forge again.

Book of Shadows

I’ve been away…

Changes happen, that’s life, & I’ve been caught up hard in the shadows and light of it all.

Sometimes, I dance under the canopy above, letting the warm sunlight dapple over me. Moments of radiant happiness guiding me forward through the forest of my existence.

Sometimes, I dart from shadow to shadow, fearing the piercing burn of harsh reality. Disappearing into silence and invisibility as the trail of trauma behind me consumes hope.

Shadow work is not for the faint of heart.

Nor is it for those who will not allow themselves to admit shortcomings, and lack the strength to get dirty while cleaning up their own messes.

So many changes.

It’s hard to recap everything that’s occurred, while keeping the timeline & my part in it honest.

If you want the /tldr version:

I moved. I’m living in an RV I bought in Washington, then moved South, way South.

I am content, and at times, even happy.

I am no longer on anxiety meds.

I have healed some things.

While acknowledging that others will require further work.

And, even still, that there are some things that will likely never be healed, because there will never be resolution from the other involved parties.

I have changed, fundamentally, from who I was, just a scant few years ago.

And that’s ok.

My Book of Shadows still has some clean leaves to write my story on.

Cold Ashes

There was a time

When I was wild

Free and feral

Aimed straight at self-destruction

And no one thought

Maybe, maybe she needs water.

Chaos was bound

Into conformity

But inside,

I burned.

For years, the coals banked in ashes

Smoldering embers

Until

Only a flicker remained.

“Are you happy?”

Sparked the blaze

With which I burned the world

To ashes around me.

~ May 5, 2023

Accept

There are days when I’m ok with Death.

I know that I’m well over the half-way mark of my life.

So many years I can look back on. So many experiences, good and bad both.

And, some days, I’m ok with knowing that, eventually, it’ll all end.

The lights will go out, the sky will go dark, & I’ll exit, stage left.

Some days…

I’m not scared.

Ashes

It started with a spark.

That small, miraculous ignition

Kindling my existence, my

Experiences

It flickered, tiny, vulnerable, but

Protected by other flames from extinguishment

Fanned by the air around me,

Fueled by the knowledge imparted

I grew, a steady flame, strong, bright.

Until the collision. The damage done to me, torched through me,

Fuel on flame, I burned…

Higher, brighter, angry

I scorched so many in my passage

Leaving permanent scars, in some cases, from the trauma of my touch.

A bonfire cannot burn forever.

Rains came.

Soothing, healing,

Quenching fires I never meant to set.

Until I was naught but ashes, and

Deeply banked coals, glowing in the dark.

Would that I could heal away the scars,

But that’s not how fire works.

So, I wait for the phoenix to rise.