Saturday, October 29, 2011

Did you ever...

Want to be in an exclusive club?

The membership is very limited and the roster is comprised of one. At times there are two and rarely are there three in this organization. Once in a Blue Moon there may be four, but that is usually an occasion to be marked for remembrance in the future and recalled with either great joy or dread.

Not to offend anyone, but if you are put off it's entirely on you and I couldn't give a shit less.

I dread long phone conversations and most of my friends know that fact. Yet there are those who insist on hearing my voice for extended periods of time. I haven't clue why, as I sound more like Kermit the Frog than some silvery voiced radio announcer.

Then again there are those in love with the sound of their own voice.

I call people when I have something to say. Not just a cheery Happy-Gram or news of what new and and exciting in your or my life for that matter. To be honest, there isn't a hell of a lot going on in my life. Doing things of interest to me, I get drunk once in awhile, I get stoned occasionally as well. I do also hit some crack when the funds are available.

Don't feel bad, as that's exactly the way I think it should be.

I know I tend to try to be positive, joyful and act like every little thing is perfect. You know as well I that isn't necessarily a fact. But the truth is life is what it is and there is no amount of cheerful drivel that will change anything at all.

Note to self:
Other people feel the same way from time to time as well.

So I am working on respecting and honoring boundaries. Yours, yours and yes, yours as well.

But it seems when people push on my boundaries, I tend to put up a fence. When people hop that fence, I put up a higher fence. When there are those who are confident or stupid enough to try to scale those fences I put up a friggin' stone wall that is high and virtually impenetrable.

There are those who know exactly what I trying to say. For that reason they are the ones most often invited to club meetings. There are those who don't and probably never will understand. I don't know whether to be happy or sad for those ignorant fools. Your ignorance is not always bliss for others. It could actually be considered a pain in the ass.

So with all good intentions, I wish you a happy day filled with sunshine, green lights, peace on earth and butterflies floating around your own personal unicorn. I also pray that unicorn doesn't ram it's horn straight up your ass.

Insert Smiley Face right here!---> :-) <---

Friday, October 21, 2011

Yep, that's the question...

Should I become involved with a social movement that runs parallel in many ways with what I feel to be proper and correct. To get involved with "normal" people who, so far as I am aware are not burdened with the same problems that are an essential part of me.

The thing is that my involvement has, at least for the time being decreased my appetite for hitting a rock.

My reasons for getting involved have much more to do with just a healthy outlet for myself instead of my drug. But that not what I am trying to address at this moment.

My participation will certainly erode my ever decreasing anonymity.

My getting active in this particular activity may also be a source of discomfort for some of the participants. To put what they are doing in jeopardy because of my inconvenient bad habits wouldn't be right. I certainly don't want my involvement to create problems for those who are trying to do things to make the world, our world a better place for the 99%.

Yeah, that's right, I'm talking about Occupy Erie.

I certainly have the time, if not the physical stamina to help out in some small ways. I also don't have a lot of material resources to contribute, although the stuff that rattles between my ears seems to have fallen on interested ears.

All things considered, better there or here rather than in that chemical trap I set for myself. Another diversion to keep me occupied instead of daydreaming and fantasizing about a hit will feel like at a certain moment in time.

Will it be an permanent solution to my appetite for an occasional hit?

Probably not, but in the short term I'm going to roll with that. An occasional drink and a few tokes off of a joint will help to cushion things for a bit as well. Activity of any sort is an improvement.

So, until they get tired of my face I'll hang out a bit with the Occupy folks. They really don't seem to mind my presence. Until things regarding what and who I am become a problem I'll continue to do whatever is within my abilities. It's also an improvement over sitting inside doing little other than trolling for trouble on the interwebz.

The bottom line is though, it's something that is much more than just about me.

Maybe it's time to think about things beyond just me.

Far beyond just me.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

And then there were two

It just seems that things have fallen into a routine of sorts. No extraordinary events of any import have happened since the last time I was here. From the point of view of the big wide world not too extraordinary.

Yeah, there have been a few days that a pipe was hit. Yeah there have been a discussion with Uncle Vladimir, the rot gut cheap ass vodka that Don drinks. There were a few stupid texts sent out and there were the usual feelings of regret that goes along with that drunken behavior.

But despite those things, life has settled into a pattern of getting up somewhere between 6:00 and 7:00 A.M. This is because of the cats.

Yes, cats.

Moo, who took up residence here in June now has a sister to help her keep her girlish figure. Her name is Shui. Yeah, my cats, my names. Living in Erie and reading over the years about certain ethnic restaurants being found with cats ready to cook in their kitchens sparked this particular twist in me. So last Thursday night Don and I were sipping his clear liquid poison out in front of the building.

At some point in time another neighbor announced that her cat Cuddles had run away yet again. According to her this was at least the second time in a week this had happened. After listening to her tale and filling in some blanks I volunteered to take the cat into my care.

The fact is after listening to some of the details she provided, I knew she was throwing the cat away. There is no way that critter could have gotten out without some assistance. So with alcohol lubricated feelings and reasoning, Cuddles became Shui.

There is not going to be any creature named fucking Cuddles in this house.


What grinds me is the world we live in today is the fact that so much is disposable. Some things are understandable to a degree. But so often living things are disposed of with a sense of impunity as being worthless or not having enough value to keep.

I know from my own experience that it's not just cats that get thrown away.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

I'm getting restless.

The need to have an adventure is becoming overwhelming.

It's a case of wanderlust to a great degree. An urge to go somewhere beyond the neighborhood. The yearning to see things I haven't before or things I haven't seen in a great while. I want to get out of Dodge.

Not permanently, but to escape for a little bit.

To meet people who I know but never really met. To breath air a little different than the air in this hole. My apartment that is and not the town. But the urge to get out of town or go down a road never or barely traveled is nagging at me. The yearning to just pick up and explore new places or again visit places is stirring inside of me.

There are limitations.

Yes, I know there are physical challenges, but those are the least of it all. Those things can be overcome with just a bit of willpower. Those barriers are not insurmountable. If anything, sheer stubbornness will carry me through.

The real issue is one of other resources.

Just hopping into my car is not a possibility, as I no longer have access to one. Part of the costs of doing what I do best. A bus is a possibility but planning is required. Financially I might be able to accomplish some of this if it weren't for one small hindrance.

There's this monkey who keeps tapping me on the shoulder. Well, that's what people who don't have to carry one around might call the thing. The problem is that times it's a seething, screaming, venomous, puss oozing five hundred pound gorilla.

That gorilla almost always wins as well.

Still, I just want to get away for a little while. I just don't want to be sitting still while I do that. To be someplace other than this place, even for a day or so would be heaven. a healthy escape from this monkey house.

There are those who know exactly what I mean.

For those of you who don't, be grateful.