Proud Mary keep on turning

Well, nothing like a little rain to wash away your blues, the pollen and the occasional home or two. Last week was storm week here. Lots of rain. Lots and lots of rain. And then some more rain with that occasional tornado watch/warning. We survived, our LAN modem didn't, but other than the river through the front yard we get every time it rains hard, we survived.  There's nothing like the sound of a torrential storm swollen creek (now an honest to god small river) 100 feet away out your back window to lull you to sleep at night.

The worst part of a storm system passing through isn't always the storm. At least not when you live in mountains with lots of lakes, creeks, rivers and low bridges over little 2 lane highways out in the middle of nowhere. The worst part is the run off that accumulates in the already swollen lakes, rivers and creeks. That actually occures a day or two after the rains.

So we all had our personal war stories about how high such and such creek was and how it was overflowing it's banks and "man, was I ever afraid to cross such and such bridge the water was so high, blah, blah, blah".  Truthfully, I had a job not too far from the house here Sunday morning that scared the bejeezus out of me. These folks lived at one if the lowest points down river from the dam, not more than 200 feet from the river. I kept eyeballing that river as I worked, I was honestly nervous, I have never seen it so high, at least not in a really long time.

The last time I saw it that high was when all those people lost all their homes and stuff when the levies broke on the Mississippi up in Iowa and Missouri way back in the mid 90's. Back during that bad ass storm system that passed through these parts, they wouldn't release water from our dam because down stream, the White could not hold any more water because the Arkansas couldn't hold any more water because the Mississippi couldn't hold any more water (I can't imagine the Gulf of Mexico not being able to hold any more water). Now that was scary. Almost scary enough to keep me from buying land out near the White below the dam. Almost, but not quite scary enough.

So this evening, we decided to head down to Sue's favorite fishing hole to see where the water was. To say the least, it was high. They are generating their asses off right now at the dam. I think they have it open full bore. Between the run off and opening the dam's bottom release, the river would be one hell of a rapids if there were huge boulders in it. They actually released the top flood gates Saturday cause the lake water was almost at flood capacity. When you live down stream from a lake and dam like I do, this is when you worry a little about flooding in your neighborhood.

It's supposed to rain again in the next day or two. The water here is still high (although our little creek is down to it's normal little trickle and the pond is slowly receding back again). The lakes, rivers and creeks however are still very, very high.

Well, that's the weather report from the Ozarks for today. Btw, it was a stunningly beautiful spring day today. Would have been perfect for fishing is it wasn't for the waters being impossible to fish in. Which sucks because, well, the White Bass are running and I was really looking forward to catching a passle this year. Course, I don't have the room in my freezer, so I guess this is a good thing.

The party's over, it's time to call it a day

This is just a fishing trip report. Sue caught 2 perch and one tiny baby large mouth bass (it was sooo cute). I caught one small grown up large mouth bass (three quarters of a  pound or so) using a black and blue latex tandem spinner. I named him Henry and released him back into the wild. Kaitlyn waded into the water only to find out it was still cold this time of year.

It rained on and off while we were there. We finally left and went and had Chinese food at the China Buffet. Ran into Jan Ridenour (see post about King Gladden's airplane below) and her son Travis while there.

Seems Mom was taking Travis out for dinner to assuage his broken heart. Apparently his girlfriend dumped his ass and brok his heart recently. He was pretty hurt by the whole thing. Now Travis is just as cute as a button and probably one of the sweetest guys you could ever know.  Other than being a little short for a guy, there's not much about him that you could say is bad.  I told him basicially the same thing his Mom told him. "They may have different names and faces, but it's really all the same woman." There are ones that just use you and hurt you and thats that. You learn to avoid those women eventually. You learn to spot them a mile away.

I doubt he feels better knowing that his Mom and myself have dated that same woman ourselves over and over again and even at 50 we still fuck up and find them.  Same woman, different face and name but it's still her just the same.

Matchmaker, matchmaker make me a match

Find me a find, catch me a catch.....

I am going fishing with the family in a few. Maybe catch some white bass if they are running where we go. That would be cool.

People wonder why I am married to such a boy of a girl. Well, the answer is simple, I am a boy of a girl too and well, we just like to do a lot of the same things. You know, like fish and stuff.

I unfortunately am more of a fag boy and I like to decorate and garden. I love to go shopping for things to make my house beautiful. Sue on the other hand is not even necessarily aware that there is even a house and yard to deal with. But I can live with that. Obviously I can, I have been doing it for almost 7 years. <grin>

Up, up and away in my beautiful, my beautiful balloon

There's this guy named King Gladden who stables his airplane in the hangers and airfield in back of my house. Damn near every day King comes on down and starts his plane up and flies to work in Harrison.  I have gotten used to the noise in these last few years. I barely notice it anymore.

He flies this weird ass plane the likes of which I have never seen before in a small aircraft. The engine appears to be mounted on top of the cockpit, or maybe that large odd thing sitting on top of the cockpit is something totally different, I have no idea, I know nothing about light aircraft. Come to think of it, other than being a passenger on commercial aircraft of a much larger variety, I know nothing about aircraft at all.

Which is funny because both my father and little brother are pilots. My Dad became a pilot up in the Alaskan bush back in the forties and Scott took up flying as a hobby, learning to fly at the Van Nuys airport.

At any rate, King's plane is weird looking to say the least and louder than shit when he starts it. It sounds like a loud explosion when it starts up. The first time I was sitting here on a lovely May day back in 01 and heard that explosion, I thought something catastrophic had happened in back of my house. Like I said, now I barely notice it.

King actually does not live in back of me. He actually lives down behind and below Point West on the lake. I have never actually clocked it but, I would say King's house is at least 5 miles from here.  Considering it's probably at least 2 miles to Charlotte's and he's at least 3 more miles on up the road past the dam, gotta be at least 5 miles or more. He flies out of here because this airstrip is actually the closest one to his house. The next closest one would be up by Kim and Jan Ridenour's in back of Lake Lucerne. That road up there I think is actually called Airport Road. At least I think it was before the advent of the county putting in 911 services and renaming all the county roads to numbers. At any rate, that's at least 13 miles from my house and probably 15 from King's house.

King is part owner and on the BOD of the bank I use. Lots of people in town here use King's bank because, well, it's King's bank. People trust King, he's honest. You're hard pressed to find an honest banker and King is a rarity. Your other choices are John Cross and the BoES (every one in town knows how evil John Cross is),the FNB of BV is another choice and not all that many locals have accounts there because, well, it's the bank from Berryville and who wants your money helping out folk in the town next to you where you know they are laughing and making fun of us Eurekans on a daily basis? Then there's the BoGF (same problem as the FNBoBV) and finally Arvest, formerly known as First Eureka Springs Bank (owner and Chairman King Gladden) now owned by Walmart.  Walmart's been running around NWA (and frankly SEM and NEO) buying up small independent banks and slowly losing the original names and changing them all to Arvest.

I still have an account in Arvest, simply because I have had one there so long. I can't bring myself to kill that account, opened that account there because of King Gladden, just like I opened my account at CFB because of him. Up until I bought this business, I had had all my home loans (and most of my loans) through Arvest, aka FESB. Now I just have a small loan there that I will be done with in a few years and I will never get another loan at Arvest unless I absolutely have to.

So Walmart has made a ton of money off me in ways I never wished for them to make money off me. Nothing I can do about it though. I am pretty much just stuck with them making money off me until that loan is done. Oh well.

Which brings me back to King Gladden, who I would much rather was making money off me than Arvest.  I know where King lives, know his wife and kids, know him. I do not know Jim or Helen Walton. Do not know where their homes are, never really ever met them (sort of met Helen once at the Opera of the Ozarks). They are not hometown family, King is. They live in Bentonville, they're foreigners in our books. King cares about his community here in Eurekee, can the same be said about Jim? I think not.

Keep on trucking King.

My friend I'll say it clear, I'll state my case of which I'm certain

 

But more, much more than this, I did it my way

When you haven't got anything better to do with your time, consider checking out some of these sites. Makes for some fascinating late night reading.

By far I enjoy Tony Gosling's site the best. I am working my way through the David Icke site right now. My only problem with either of those sites is that they are both British and so I often don't get the connections they are attempting to make because I do not know who all the British and European players are.

At any rate, I found the House of Bush one night while doing an innocent search on Henry Kissinger.  I can't even remember what I wanted to find out about him, but I found out a lot more than I had bargained for that's for sure.  I think it may be that I had found a quote from Henry Kissinger some where that he had made at a Bilderberg meeting back in the early 90's. It kind of shocked me to see his name listed among the elite of the Bilderbergers, so I went off on a search about him.

Henry Kissinger had been a big hero of mine when I was very young.  But then Richard Nixon had been a big hero of mine too. When I read The House of Bush, I was stunned. I have never liked any of the Bushes, but this web book left me despising them.

Bilderberg 2004 is coming up in May. Jeckle Island I believe is where they will be. They are winning and we, the common folk are losing, big time. George Herbert Walker Bush's New World Order is here and we handed it to them on a platter.

The House of Bush: Born in a Bank

The High Priests of Globalization

Welcome to the David Icke Site

Tony Gosling's homepage with contact details, Bible quotes, hope and rest for the soul, favourite poetry, prose and some rants.

I came to this far outpost of civilization in the hope I could buy myself more time before they took us over completely.  But they are here now and short of running away to Canada (which really, is it all that safe a place either?), I still have to face them and be counted and numbered and rubber stamped until there is nothing left of my real spirit.

Survivalist? I think not. Unless you consider attempting to keep your heart and soul intact and your own surviving. Like Greta, I just want to be left alone. I don't cherish the thought of living in an Orwellian World where I no longer have the right to think and feel as I please. And the real truth is, I do not cherish the thought of dying in a concentration camp some where in Montana. Nor do I cherish the thought of them taking my child and grand children and putting them in service to their greater cause.

I will die happily knowing that my detractors will see all I have prophesied come to pass after I am long gone. Will they also be sitting in concentration camps somewhere down the road thinking to themselves "J said this would happen"? Or will they curse my memory thinking I should have persuaded them a little harder? What does it matter what I have told them or tried to share? It doesn't because they are just as incapable of stopping all this as I am. They are as doomed as I.

So J, how much more time do you think there is left? Five, maybe ten years? Yeah, maybe that. There's still a faction that will never buy their lies and it must die off first or be killed off one way or another. And there is a whole new crop of brainwashed youth coming up even as I speak who will/are buying all their lies, hook, line and sinker.

Just waiting around biding my time for the Hitler Youth to come and take me away to Montana.

 

And now, the end is near, it's time to face the final curtain......

Down in the west Texas town of El Paso...

For those of you too young to remember the original release of the enormous classic hit El Paso written and performed by one of my all time favorite singer song writers Marty Robbins, here's the original lyrics:

EL PASO
Marty Robbins
- words and music by Marty Robbins

Out in the West Texas town of El Paso
I fell in love with a Mexican girl
Nighttime would find me in Rosa's cantina
Music would play and Felina would whirl

Blacker than night were the eyes of Felina
Wicked and evil while casting a spell
My love was deep for this Mexican maiden
I was in love, but in vain I could tell

One night a wild young cowboy came in
Wild as the West Texas wind
Dashing and daring, a drink he was sharing
With wicked Felina, the girl that I loved

So in anger I challenged his right for the love of this maiden
Down went his hand for the gun that he wore
My challenge was answered in less than a heartbeat
The handsome young stranger lay dead on the floor

Just for a moment I stood there In silence
Shocked by the foul evil deed I had done
Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there
I had but one chance and that was to run

Out through the back door of Rosa's I ran
Out where the horses were tied
I caught a good one, it looked like it could run
Up on its back and away I did ride
Just as fast as I could from the West Texas town of El Paso
Out to the badlands of New Mexico

Back in El Paso my life would be worthless
Everything's gone; in life nothing is left
It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden
My love is stronger than my fear of death

I saddled up and away I did go
Riding alone in the dark
Maybe tomorrow a bullet will find me
Tonight nothing's worse than this pain in my heart
And at last here I am on the hill overlooking El Paso
I can see Rosa's Cantina below
My love is strong and it pushes me onward
Down off the hill to Felina I go

Off to my right I see five mounted cowboys
Off to my left ride a dozen or more
Shouting and shooting, I can't let them catch me
I have to make it to Rosa's back door

Something is dreadfully wrong, for I feel
A deep burning pain in my side
Though I am trying to stay in the saddle
I'm getting weary, unable to ride

But my love for Felina is strong and I rise where I've fallen
Though I am weary, I can't stop to rest
I seethe white puff of smoke from the rifle
I feel the bullet go deep in my chest

From out of nowhere Felina has found me
Kissing my cheek as she kneels by my side
Cradled by two loving arms that I'll die for
One little kiss, then Felina good-bye

I just needed to share that for posterity's sake. God knows Marty is long dead and gone (tears in my eyes). This is not my favorite Marty Robbins songs though. My favorite Marty Robbins song was called The Chair.

The Chair, words and music by Marty Robbins

All night long , I tried, but couldn't sleep

Tried to be a man, tried not to weep

Now, I hear the turning of the key

Silently, the guard motions to me

Now, I realize the end is near

And I find I can't control my fear

As I pass the guard, I start to cry

And I whisper, " I don't want to die"

Then, from Death Row comes a whisper "Charlie, be a man"

Then, I scream, "Just wait 'til your turn

Then, see if you can" Down the hall, they push and carry me

Blind with fright and tears won't let me see

Through a door and then, I stop and stare '

Cause I see it, there it is, the chair

Then, they strap me in and turn to leave

And the Prison Chaplain says,

"Believe Faith in God will cause Him to forgive"

I have faith, but still, I wanna live

Suddenly, I'm paralized

This must be the end

My body jerks and trembles

And they turn it on again

As quickly as it came, the pain is gone I hear music.

Someone sings a song

Suddenly, I seem to float through air

Something's wrong, 'cause I'm still in the chair

In the room, there's hardly any light

And I see the Doctor dressed in white

I hear every word that's plainly said

Did I hear him say, "This man is dead"

This was a number one hit on the country charts back when I was 17. Patty Pipkin and I loved it. Marty Robbins was a prolific song writer. You would be hard pressed to find someone who wrote more than he did (there are people who did btw). You don't hear much from Marty past the early 1970's and up until his death. He was working though, pretty much right up until his death. People like Marty and Roy Orbison where real heros to me. I loved their writing and their velvet falsettos.

http://members.aol.com/kkcowgirl/mrobbins.htm

Marty died long before the advent of the internet (in fact there was no such thing as PCs back then, at least not as we know them today).

My hat's off to you Marty. Even though you have been dead 22 years, there are those of us who will never forget you, nor how you touched our lives.

Look into a glass onion

Ok so I have this really macabre idea. You buy a domain and put all your shit in it, things you think, feel, your pictures, things that really meant something to you. Things from the very depths of your spirit. You put little secret things in there that only your spirit would know and understand. You pay for 50 years worth of service charges on it.

Let's say you die in the next ten to twenty years. Even if you die in twenty years, there is still thirty years left on your domain before someone would turn it off.  When you die, the last thing you do while you are still lucid is give your spirit the command to remember that domain.

Five, ten years later, you get born again. From the time you can remember, there is something burning in your soul that you know you have to find. You are driven to find this thing whatever it is. The dreams of your youth are filled with this reoccurring image of an ancient computer screen. A screen built somewhere around circa 2010. It's 2040, your maybe 15, 16 years old. You have a dream one night, in the dream you see yourself sitting in front of an old computer screen, you are typing away. You do not look like yourself, but you know this is you anyway. You try hard to see what is on the screen. You look up at the old url addy and try for all you are worth to remember it. You wake up and write down everything you can remember.

The next day you hop on your pc and start searching for the images. After hours of searching, up comes this page with the image of that person you knew was you in your dream. A hideously creepy feeling comes over you as the hair on the back of your neck stands up on end.

You read on, page after page, hearing your own thoughts, your own feelings, the deepest parts of you exposed in this strangers writings. Finally coming to the last page, there is a letter from this stranger from the past. The letter is addressed to you, you know this, even though the stranger does not use your name.

Ok, I personally think it's a friggen hot fantasy. I would love to meet myself from the past in such an intimate manner. I think it rocks. So call me weird, whatever, I still think it rocks.

Lonely is lonely, no one will ever know, bout this dying heart, the one that loves you so

Why does my heart feel so? Think with your head and not your heart J. Who said that? Mom? Follow your heart J, therein lay the dreams you casts upon the waters. Or was that before swine? What was that? Pearls shmirls. Silly, rabbit.

Who was it that thought they knew my heart? Who among you took a tentative step into the fire and found out it really does burn? Like the blood of a dragon's veins, it burns liquid gold in your heart.  Into your soul? The core of your being? From one level to the next, deeper and further in, only to find yet another and another. Levels and rooms, grand and small. Stretching into infinity like the image in a mirror facing a mirror. Stair cases leading to where? What did you find? You do not know. Well, neither do I.

How many do you think have been inside here? How many myriad of living spirits have been allowed to enter? A million? One? One. In this lifetime, only you have come inside all the way. Like the taking of one's virginity, only you have penetrated to the core. Your words hang like stale smoke in a dark room with bad lighting, heavy and rancid, untouchable, not forgotten. Your eyes imploring me like a Siren and I your Ulysses unable to fight the burning need. Soul's mating, entwined, souls, soul, mate.

Free of this body, free of this mind, spirit to spirit I touch you. To the core. With that bond that has always transcended time and space. Here in this place, there is no gender fuck my love. Here we touch unfettered. Love unbridled. Dance like a twin tornadoes. Heal the wounds of wars fought eons ago.

My equal. My twin. My soul's cry for union. And still I wait, longing, lonely, alone, so very, very alone.

Go on, go to hell, go away from me, I need no charity

More bad poetry. Actually it's words to songs written many a year ago. In fact, other than some very bad poetry, I have not sat down and written a song in almost 15 years.      

Fire (circa 1972) (a song to Laura O'Donnell)    

You were the fire of my life

you brough such fire to my life

but like the element of sorrow

I'll be back again tomorrow    

But for tonight I'm weeping blue

I've lost my way because of you

But like the element of sorrow I

'll be back again tomorrow    

Your time is worth your weight in gold

It presses on to make you old

Your heart is pained

you're worried that I've taken

from you your life    

You brought such fire to my life

then you left and you

darkened all the lights      

Untitled (circa 1979) (a song to myself, why sometimes too much sex, drugs and rock n roll are not suck a good thing)    

A myriad of dying faces

they gather round you

and they

they clutch you tight  

You can't remember

when you first came here

you only know you want to

to run tonight    

(chorus) And oh your pain

when nothing

ever seems to change

yet nothing

ever stays the same    

 

The fear surrounds you

it almost drowns you  

you feel it tightening

about your neck  

Before you now here

it all becomes clear

you're fading away well,

you don't belong here    

 

And oh your pain

when nothing ever

seems to change

yet nothing

ever stays the same    

 

A myriad of dying faces

they gather round you

and they,

they clutch you tight  

You can't remember

when you first came here

you only know you want to

to run tonight

you run tonight

You'll run tonight      

Sometimes I think of you (circa 1990) (a song to Gina Nicoletti)    

Sometimes I think of you

when a full moon howls

on cold winter nights

and it's crisp to touch the air    

 

Sometimes I think of you

in a summer sweat

while the canyons roll

in a torment of the sun    

 

Was it so simple when

Fleetwood and Janis

tore open your heart

You took your love

you took her down

While I Robot

burned my broken soul

No they'll never know  

I don't let it show    

 

Sometimes I think of you

in a gridlocked stress

while the freeways roll

past the memories

and the years

and I'm biting back the tears    

When sometimes I think of you      

untitled, unfinished (circa 1990) (*a song to Suzanne)    

Why can't I say this to your face

why has this always been the way

for all the words that I've kept locked inside

this is a passion I wish I needn't hide  

For all the years that have come and gone

and all the tears I shed far too long    

(chorus) Through all the years

beloved friends

though distance parts

we'll never end    

(* I probably wrote at least 6 songs for Suzanne during the time period of 1978 to 1980, back when I was deeply in love with her. Right at this exact moment, I cannot remember a single one of them)    

One last thing I wrote when I was 18 (circa 1972). This piece was titled Desiree and was epic in content. It was born from a dream I had had the night before. The beginning line was as follows below, other than the chorus, I remember nothing. Since it was written, the notebooks it was penned in have been lost. The music, like most of my music, utilized a ton of suspended unresolved cording, it's purpose was to keep the listener always wondering, always let on the edge, always out there in the unreal world waiting for a reality to come that never does.    

Desiree (circa 1972)    

(Verse one)

And Desiree

comes to me

in the night

in the night

And she wants to take me with her

and she wants to take me down

in the night

in the night    

(Desiree takes me to all kinds of surreal places, I fight her most of the way and finally give in, then in a blinding andfrightening moment of revelation I realize that: see last verse below)    

(Last verse, only line I can remember)

For Desiree, Desiree is me    

(chorus)

And Desiree,

in the night is

wondering

will tomorrow

bring another day

Go on be a hero be a photograph

As I contemplate the events of the day, I find myself in a quandary. Mostly about life and the "whys" that have always plagued me.

Unfortunately for me, I often wonder far too much about the meaning and outcome of things, be they personal or global. I often feel like I am in the perpetual motion of a Catch 22. The proverbial hamster in his wheel, going round and round but always ending up back in the same place.

I even wonder as I am now, why I even wonder and ponder things so much. Why do I put myself through all this mental suffering anyway?

Here's a secret only I know about me (well others may know it, but they are kind enough to never say it to my face). I have always believed if I work just a little harder at making things perfect around me, then I can go on with life and live in peace. If I just fix this thing, then I can walk away from whatever and go on in peace. If I just figure out how to make this thing work right, I will be able to walk away and go do what it is I think I really want to be doing.

I have never been good at puzzles. Mental or otherwise. Yet everything has always been a huge puzzle I needed to unravel. Just about the time I think I have the puzzle at least partly solved, I seem to always come upon a kink (and not the good kind of kink) that is even more tightly wound and tangled. Today the puzzle hit the kink wall with a slam of my head to concrete.

Maybe because of this war, maybe because it's an election year, I am not sure, but something just slammed me upside the head today and has me reeling inside with the quandary of it all.

As I whirl away in my hamster wheel, I suddenly realize that maybe, just maybe I am getting absolutely nowhere. That I am only making myself insane from all this thinking and trying to unravel the puzzle. I certainly have sent my blood pressure up a notch or two anyway.

One thing I try very hard not to do is believe that I know all the answers to anything. I know facts about way too many things. But facts can be just as deceiving at times as the White House spin doctors.

There are times when I truly believe that there is no such thing as truth. Today is one of those days. I look at the facts I know and they do not add up, nor compute. I think about my child, born into a world that I see as totally insane and think, is this any worse of a time in human history than any other? Is it not all relative? And if I go deep enough into my core beliefs, what does anything matter if this earth is just a lesson?

Maybe that is what my real problem is today. Because today I entertained the notion that there is nothing more than what I see in front of me. That there is nothing past this existence. That when I stop breathing for the last time that that is it, I cease to exist, forever. That brought on a despondency I have never contemplated before. That this is it, that there is nothing more, that all that I have known in my lifetime and know now and will experience in the next 10 years is all there really is to life.

The despondency is over knowing how much time I have pissed away believing things I once thought as truth. So much in my belief system that stopped me from fully experiencing things. And now as my health is failing me, more rapidly as the days go by, I think, so many things that require health and more time than I have, I have not experienced and never will, not even in another lifetime.  As I stood in the river of my life, they floated by enticing me and I let them go thinking they would come again when I was ready.

What's funny is, once I realized I was really slowly dying, once I began to feel the life force slowly leaving my body and my physical systems begin to slowly let go of this life, I began to attempt to live life as fully as I could.  Only I know how short my time has become. I have pushed my life expectancy out in my head for years. Told myself (fuck whatever any doctors ever told me) that I had X amount left before I would slowly slip away.

I am rapidly approaching what the doctors told me over ten years ago was the cut off for being able to still live without an oxygen tank.  I am still lying to myself. I still refuse to honestly believe I am that sick. And yet the physical signs are becoming more apparent to me every day. Bill and I had this conversation the other day. He is slowly dying too and he has had the same problem I have been having. His physicalstrength is slipping away rapidly too.

Bill's lucky in ways I am not. He still has his VA benefits, he can still get his drugs for free. I can't even go to the doctor for a simple prescription let alone a full physical to determine which is the best route to take to make my remaining time less "whatever" ( weak, painful, frightening?).

Which brings me back to my hamster wheel. I could go get medical assistance, get Medicaid or whatever if I didn't own a house. So I say, ok, I will find a way to pay my house off and get it out of my name and into Sue's name. These thoughts propel my every action from that point forward.  I work to the point of exhaustion trying to pay for this house and the harder I work it seems, the less I make financially.  And at every point I turn, it seems the universe does not want me to be able to pay off this house, nor get it out of my name, nor be able to seek out medical assistance, nor make sure my family is not left bereft when I do finally go. (this is my secret in action, I must FIX things before I can leave it behind and know peace)

I have spent enormous energy giving this thought over the last few years. How do I fix this Catch 22? If I leave here and have not done what is right and honorable by the people I have promised to care for, then will I have some karmic debit to pay in some other lifetime? Will I have missed some important lesson or is being able to let go of my belief that being good and honorable is important the lesson I am missing? And if my final and only real truth that I have left turns out to be a lie too, then why have I spent all these years in this hamster wheel? Pissing away forever my only life...

The truth is, I am weary and I just want to be able to let it all go. I can't remember what Ky told me that night about why I needed to let it all go... I can't remember the logic or the argument. It just seemed so right, whatever it was that she said to me. I keep trying to remember that conversation, but I cannot. I don't know how to let things go easily. I don't know how to just free fall easily. I have to have concrete evidence that there is a net below before I blindly trust.

What a quandary I have let myself fall into. My hamster wheel is slowing down, I am running out of time. This is the kind of time in your life where you might want to consider reaching out for help, but I will only draw further in a shell. I will only pull further inside and search myself for the answer. And if I cannot find them as the wheel goes round and round, I will grow even more despondent.

Sleep my child and peace attend thee, guardian angels god will send thee, all through the night. 

Fame, I wanna live forever

When you were a kid, did you ever think you were the reincarnation of some famous historical figure? I did, I thought I was Michaelangelo. Right about the time I read about the Agony and the Ecstasy in Time and/or Life magazine (I never saw the movie until I was an adult and it was on the late, late, late movie, we never went to the movies when I was a kid unless it was Disney and then that was maybe only once a year at that). I was probably 10, maybe 11 years old then. Before believing I was Michaelangelo, I thought I was Peter Tchaikovsky. I thought I was Tchaikovsky from the time I was like 3 years old, the first time I heard Waltz of the Flowers.

I think every child who dreams big thinks they were someone famous in a past life at some point. Maybe I am wrong, maybe it was just me that thought those kinds of things. Maybe other kids just admired their heros. I on the other hand thought that I had been them once upon a time.

I don't think that anymore. I still believe in reincarnation, I just don't believe I was anyone you or I have ever heard about. I don't even necessarily believe that every single person you meet or are involved with in some way is someone you may have known in a past life either.

I used to bother doing a meditative pastlife regression every time I met someone I was interested in to see if I had known them in past lives. I don't do that anymore. I just don't care anymore if I knew you in a past life or not. It's a matter of today, fuck last time. Besides, I had way too many encounters with persons from past lives that were not all that fabulous to want to care anymore. I don't want to know I fucked you over or you fucked me over in a past life.

Let's just live for today. Right now, today, forget about tomorrow, yesterday was a nice learning experience, ok? I can live with that, how about you? Btw, I did know you in a past life, I just want you to know that. I am sooo evil... <grin>