bleh

The office grind has this way of seeping into your bones, creating aches and twinges in the nooks and crannies of you neck and your soul.

It's not sadness, it's just . . . sameness. The futility of effort. The never ending slog through all the messes that people make.

Good thing I'm a temp. And this is a decent job with good people. It's all in my head. And maybe in the flourescent lighting. Seriously. That stuff is vile.

First world problems.

Valentine's Day Massacre

I imagine that's the lurid, yet apt, headline that will make it onto various sites and stations.

There have been 18 school shootings in 2018. That's 18 separate incidents in 46 days. I believe there have been 26 or 27 mass shootings total in the USA this year alone.

What is happening? It's like a seal was broken, and now this terrible, unthinkable catastrophe is a mainstream idea. It's totally Thinkable: you can look at examples, compare incidents, and plan strategies on both sides.

The Unthinkable has become the Possible. It is quickly becoming the Probable. What does this shift in thinking, in conceptualizing, mean about the fabric of American culture and society? What are we becoming, what are we enabling, what are we fomenting?

I don't have answers, and I'm not dismissing sober and well thought arguments for changes to gun laws, ammo laws, or outreach for those suffering from mental imbalance.

But I can't help but conclude that this growing public safety concern is about more than the individual parts being discussed. I feel like the US is sick at it's core, ill in some way that affects all of us, and we haven't made inroads into dealing with that.

If the US were a person, I would be screaming: THERAPY. For whom? Everyone.

i don't have any good words to say. its all just so sad.

never safe, never okay

one day i will live on my island and no one will ever be able to hurt me again

nothing will ever be okay

Truth is, I don't even know what to do anymore. I don't know the way out of this, I'm not sure there is one.

I'm so stressed I feel like I could lock myself in a basement and cry for days.

I had to cancel all my remaining "luxuries," including my 20+ year child sponsorships and some work related site memberships.

Defaulted on my Amex, called them to work out the always advertised "pay over time." Checked in, all seemed good, but got a letter today saying they won't extend me certain courtesies anymore bc I'm poor and my FICO score sucks and I have medical debt with collection agencies. Got an email tonight screaming about my overdue bill, which says it's not due until mid March, but demands to paid now.

Naturally, no reps are avail online and I can't find the paper I made the notes on when I talked to the original guy and everything was all good.

The Amex one is bad, bc it's my safest and most secure card and I have autopayments for vital things set up on it.

About to default on another credit card tomorrow. Was able to pay one yesterday, but I still got charged a late fee. I didn't get paid until after 4 pm, check deposited at 5. Made cc payment when I got home, but it was past the 7 pm EST cutoff. A cutoff I would have missed anyway, bc it took that long for my deposit to clear. More late fees. Being poor is expensive.

And that's all a side note to my own ongoing illness that I can't shake and can't afford to see a doc about (the last $275 doc bill was it for another credit card). The fun news is that my dad has, yet again, been denied a test for his cancer.

Yes, they still refuse to FUCKING TEST THE CANCEROUS MASS IN HIS LUNGS TO PROVE IT IS CANCER. This time, all the clinics rejected his Medicare AND his secondary insurance. Fucking dsigusting. Just like our politicians---just repulsive, ugly, and stupid.

We won't talk about how I can't get counseling for whatever is wrong with me after this last two years of hell. I think it's PTSD or something. I'll probably never find out. Maybe I'll just go totally nuts and then I won't care anymore. That's actually my most viable treatment option right now.

and here i am, trying to work on my dumbass "dream", and i can't even afford the nominal fees to pay for the listing services and other basic, fundamental things you have to do to even have a shot

i'd say it's time to wake up, but i've been trying to get legit jobs too for the last 6 years. I've managed to land one. One in 6+ years. i'm not sure i can fix this--i don't think i have the power or influence and i certainly don't have the money to help with any of this shit.

i've always worked hard. i've always been honest. i've always paid my bills, even when they were flat wrong or somebody dicked me over (to the tune of $5K one time, whoopsie, their bad).

and look at what it's gotten me. substandard life, substandard health, shitty credit which makes me a bad person obviously, and the inability to support myself.

what's the point of trying anymore? nothing will help. people like me don't get miracles, lucky breaks, or even good karma returns. life just doesn't work that way. at least, it hasn't so far. not for me or my loved ones.

what's the point of any of it

Maybe I'm Just A Sleeper Bipolarity Disorder

Like, what if the first half of my life was the manic phase? I mean, that's tragic in its own right, considering how much of that time I spent tired, but just go with it.

Maybe I just had a couple decade long manic phase, and now I'm in the depressive cycle.

Maybe that would explain why I am so goddamn exhausted. Because no matter when you see me or how I sound or what I look like, trust this: i am fucking exhausted.

Maybe I just became manic bipolarity crazypants and it's just an exhausting condition?

Or maybe it just needs to STOP RAINING IN CALIFORNIA GODDAMMIT.

later on, i want you to remember this

that it had already occurred to you, the possibility

it wasn't the moment someone else slipped and mentioned it

it was already in your head, it had already hovered around your lips
(confusing you, truly, this isn't how it works)

but don't kid a kidder
when you decide to remember

i really do try hard

but i always say the wrong things
feel the wrong things
think the wrong things

i never get it right, not anymore
and maybe i never got it right in the first place
and just never noticed

too stupid to catch on
first to go
and the last the to know

just flailing and failing
send me to a mountaintop
seal the cave
let me be
leave me be

let me be in some place where i make no mistakes
some warm place with no memories
so i can forget all the things that make me what i am

and i can just be a notion, a stray thought
a thoughtless look, a blind navigator

fuck this shit

1. Parent discovered they have to go in for cancer biopsy after new year
2. $12 in bank
3. Bills due now
4. Checks in mail but none arriving
5. Family members struggling, not a one of those fuckers will get psychiatric help (except that guy, he's cool)
6. I can't get psych counseling for at least 3 months---health care is all about money, and when you have none, you get none. 
7. Bank continues to keep $83 dollars out of my account, due to a 3 month clerical error. NO ONE is available to help. Complete incompetence.
8. Somebody refused my request for 30 seconds of recording, so i lost out on paying gig
9. commandment from on high to "have very merry fucking christmas ps don't expect any help from me."
10. people contact me in weird ways to tell me sad news, but still refuse to talk to me
11. people try to talk to me about things i've asked to leave alone

fuck this shit, i'm going shooting

futility

my love ones keep suffering and falling apart

and there's nothing i can do about it

ain't that some shit

they just keep dying

even when its what they want
if if they did it to themselves
there's just all this death
hanging and clumping like seawead that drown you
caught in your hair and lashes like a cobweb

godspeed brenda
may you know a peace now that you could never find in your life

everyone knows i'm in over my head

if there was a better way, i sure hope it would find me

i'm full of nervous energy but exhausted all the time

if you move fast, they can't getcha

one day i'll move so fast that i'll slip this cage

one day

Our Long National Nightmare. . . Continues

Well, America, I hope you're pleased with yourself. You got what you wanted. God help us all.

I picked the wrong year to give up drinking.

gogogogogo

got to get a few hundred dollars to pay bills by Friday (hahahahahahahahaha)

trying to book extra and audience work around scheduled and requested nanny days

trying to get majority of "action" pix and vids recorded this week and sent to agent. as this requires assistance, i have some luck. but i don't have a bestie who can just eff off and help me out.

have credit card with some room left--really need to buy things like food. undergarments. many of my clothes do not be looking right on my person because i've lost some weight. i refuse to spend more Money I Don't Have on clothing until I have lost some more weight. Good thing I stole ex left belt behind. Droopy Drawers For Life!!!

speaking of drawers, my ass needs a much more rigorous exercise plan. 10k steps a day is cool and still a challenge, but its also a lot of time. i love my walks, but i require faster results and Let's Face It: my old ass really needs a tune up.

i think im supposed to sign up for an improv class. thank god for the credit system and forgive me for participating in the crippling financial disaster that is our country. please feel free to share all my blame with healthcare costs. thankyoudrivethru

i think my uterus is trying to kill me, or drive me insane. which i clearly do not have time for.

i'm tired. i don't feel good a lot. i need to take better care of myself. i need some fun.

unfortunately, i have to rely on myself for help with this stuff. and i am not much help these days.

its so weird to have so many superficial things to focus on to work towards some of my dreams. like, i really need to worry about how old i look? how white my teeth are (don't even talk about straight).

my eyebrow hair? really?

yes. really. so off for some painful personal grooming.

It's 90 F in Amarillo? In October?

People, seriously.

https://weather.com/news/weather/video/summer-in-october-hundreds-of-records-could-fall?pl=pl-editor-picks

There is no "going" to Hell. We're making Hell right here on Earth.

It's 86 F in Pensacola.

That's just mean.

man in a suitcase returns home, apocalypse expected

sometimes i feel like i need to barf up or slough off the bad energy i've been around.

that sounds totally CA woo-woo, but let me give you an example: spending time with an extremely dysfuntctional family who are fighting while a young woman is getting brain surgery. for tumors.


so, yeah, i wish i could rinse away the residue of that


Positive Aspect: Cousin made in thru surgery, initial stuff looks good. Hopefully she is on road to recovery.

And with that, off to watch season premiere of Walking Dead.

I'm pretty sure that if they deface my boo, I will be done with the show for life. I got enough stress without worrying about Rickle Pickle all the time. He's my totem animal. I need him to be okay.

PS---SFO to LAX, by ground, in 5.5 hours. Personal best of my N-S trips lately. And I didn't even leave until 12:22 pm. Basically I folded space time.

serenity now

Another hospital, another person in danger and in need of help. She asked me to come and there are people in need of support. It's all I have to offer.

Bonus: family that puts the Fucked in dysfunctional. For reals

Modified shiva has ended, and since I couldn't do it properly, I've decided to end with a mitzvah dedicated to Chris. I will try to emulate him and honor his belief that family is important. I will try to be helpful and supportive. I will try to let kindness and logic guide my actions, and ignore petty feelings and disturbances.

keeping track

--father getting initial check to see if he can get secondary check to determine if suspicious mass in lung is cancer FINALLY happening tomorrow

--cousin getting brain tumor removed, 22 yrs old. Jfc. Trip to SF.

--shiva continues with trip to SF as final mitzvah honoring uncle

--aunt seems to have no will to live, hanging on just barely, all by choice?

--meeting with agent tomorrow. How can i present my best, most special, dazzling, effervescent self when i look like the walking dead? my personality isn't exactly sparkling right now. but hey, that's why it's called acting. ha ha.

--bills bills bills

--finally caught up on S6 Walking Dead. Motherfucking Denny Duquette. Volatile. I love you, Rickle Pickle, you crazy eyed mofo.

--i'm getting too old for this shit.

i feel like i've aged three years in one morning

One of those days.

My life is underwhelming while overwhelming me in all the wrong ways.

there's gotta be a break in this action

A Silver Tear Appears, I'm Crying Ain't I?

Yesterday my Uncle Chris died.

It should have been no surprise that my bizzaro subconscious jukebox had me singing Carolina In My Mind today.

The first concert I ever went to was James Taylor. I was 12 or 13 and he took us kids--Uncle Chris thought it was important that we see live music.

I know he is more at peace now then perhaps he ever was in life.

I sang, with my stuffy nose and froggy voice, Fire and Rain and Carolina and dedicated them to him, in my heart.

Later in the night, I sang Carolina as a lullaby to a baby.

And in this way I will sit my solitary, queer shiva. No one will probably even notice. I'm not even sure how to do it.

Another bright light has been snuffed out and the sky is forever darker for it, the world forever less.

Ain't it just like a friend of mine, to hit me from behind?

what love can cost you

someone i love is dying. he has asked to be left alone.
no jumping in cars, catching flights, rushing to the scene
none of those things
if respecting his wishes is the right thing to do,
why does it feel so bad and wrong?

i wish i loved him less
and could selfishly be with him in an instant

love
for all its wonders, it can still exact a terrible toll