It’s Monday morning…the first Monday of October, after a weekend in which the only positive thing I did was talk on the phone to my sister. Unfortunately, that was cut a bit short by the fact that I was starting to have trouble with my voice; I guess I have a minor case of laryngitis.
I don’t really have anything of importance to discuss today, but I’m not writing any fiction currently, and I have no other personal goals or projects of significance. I don’t really even know what the point of writing this is, to be honest. It’s just something to do on the way to the office, I guess.
I want to stop trying. I want to stop pushing that stupid boulder. I can’t get a single decent night’s sleep, no matter what I do. I didn’t get any exercise this weekend because my feet and ankles/heels have been giving me a great deal of trouble, and it’s also been raining more or less constantly the whole weekend. This is not new. In fact, either last Sunday or the Sunday before, I had a bad slip and near-fall in the rear of the house in which I live because of the wet and muddy pavement, the flailing about from which really wrenched my back; it still gives surprisingly sharp pains if I lean in the wrong direction.
And, of course, now there’s a new hurricane brewing in the Gulf of Mexico that’s supposed to cut across the state later in the week. That’ll be at least mildly interesting, but the main brunt of it looks to be missing this part of the state. It’s coming from the west, so by the time its main body reaches north of here, it’ll expend at least part of its impetus.
If you want something done right, I guess you have to do it yourself, or so the saying goes. If I want to be completely destroyed, I’m going to have to make my own arrangements. I mean, I had planned to start trying to do that‒or at least to roll the dice on it‒two weeks ago, but my plans were pushed back a bit.
Still, it’s not as though there’s been any reason for me to change my mind. I’m still a valueless waste of space and matter and time, in pain every day for decades now, with no real friends‒appropriately, since I’m not worthy of friendship‒and a “life” that only merits the term as a form of mockery.
If anyone out there has answers, I’d be delighted to learn them. I have looked, believe me. But of course, all I ever get when I ask such things are banal homilies and assurances that there are people who care and admonitions to “hold on…blah, blah, blah”. It’s reminiscent of the story told by the Chief in The Outlaw Josey Wales, about President Lincoln urging the tribes to “endeavor to persevere”. If I didn’t already feel nauseated, that would induce the feeling.
Anyway, this is a waste of time and effort. I think I’m going to cut it short. With any luck, this coming hurricane will at least wipe Tallahassee off the map, but that’s unlikely to happen. And, unfortunately, it’s not likely to wipe me off the map, either. I’m going to have to do that myself.
Robert Elessar 
Stay safe!
I’ll try. Once again, the upcoming hurricane doesn’t look like it’s going to do much to my neck of the woods. We’ve probably had more rain yesterday morning than we’ll get when the hurricane passes, but then again, it rained a LOT yesterday morning. Only the relatively strong wind will probably stand out, but it’s not going to be full-on hurricane strength down here, unless things change significantly between now and Milton’s arrival.
Speaking of Milton, I guess one could say, “Better to rain in Hell than…I don’t know, hail in Heaven?” Never mind.
How about Blind Melon’s “No rain”? It was 104° here yesterday. The humidity was 1%. I’ve not checked the stats today. All I know is that my electric bill is forcing me to buy shit I don’t really want to eat. I also disconnected my Wi-fi. They used to talk about seniors who had to choose between food and medicine. I get it. I’m there.
About 2 weeks ago… I was hip to your intentions. I am glad that something got in the way of your following through with them. I don’t want to offer any “banal homilies”, though. And for fuck’s sake, no assurances of there being people who care about you. Christ, Robert! What a double bind.
You’re pissed. You’re sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. You won’t like anything any of us has to say today. How about some “radical acceptance”? Isn’t that what they call it. It fucking sucks and it’s real and it’s yours. And there are people who care about you.
I’m sorry about your situation with the electric bill and WiFi and food versus medicine. Sorry about the double bind; it’s unfair, I know, but I just get frustrated. I wish there were some secret (or surprise) answer that would make things better, but I suspect that’s just not the way the universe works.
Life is NOT like a box of chocolates. It’s more like one of those old Christmastime fruitcakes people used to (and still?) give. It’s not really that tasty, or what you’re looking for, unless you’re in just the right mood, but you don’t want to act ungrateful, because it IS a gift, of sorts. You’d feel guilty if you just threw it away, but it is fundamentally unsatisfying. That’s it–Buddhism by way of holiday fruitcakes.
There are the occasional candied cherries, which I happen to like, though I guess not everyone does. I don’t know what they represent. I’m probably pushing my metaphor too far.
That came out ugly as hell, didn’t it. I shouldn’t have commented today. I apologize for layering on the shit. I’m going to go kill myself now. Oh boy. Not what you needed by a long shot. I’m sorry.
Your comment was fine, don’t worry about it. I’m not easily offended in general, at least partly because I’m much harder on myself than other people are, and also because I don’t try to “read between the lines” of things or have concerns about social status and hierarchies and whatnot, I just try to understand what is being said. It wasn’t ugly. It was you expressing yourself and how you felt, which is fine. I hope you are speaking figuratively when you say, “I’m going to go kill myself now,” which I guess is hypocritical of me, but I am a hypocrite, so I guess that’s the way it is. No need to apologize.
Whew! I thought I’d be “banned”. Jerry’s got me gun-shy over at “you know where”. Still, though, you’re awfully charitable. How can we get you to practice a bit of that charity with yourself? You’ve said it many times, you are your own worst enemy. The word that keeps appearing in my mind is forgiveness. Self forgiveness. Let that be your candied cherry. Thanks, Robert. You rock, man. See it! Realize it!
I don’t seem to have that gear.