written much of late, and not, to be honest, from the lack of material that is careening about my, at times, coherent and others scattered, brain matter.

as mentioned to a friend the other day i have quite a few documents started, but ‘squirrel’ and the train goes off the track.

sitting here, alone as it happens, in the city that was once home to my family, parents not me, and listening to Miles, i find myself seeking some introspection into my life to date. old files, pictures and of course the ubiquitous me and Amos memory facility.

people, some, a few, maybe more than that, and including my father, may he rest in peace and not be pissing my mother off too much, say that i have lived an interesting life. huh. maybe. not so sure about that.

written on these pages before to be sure, that my life just has been. and, in a post around a month ago, i remarked that the conclusion is that i really am not anything, in the grand scheme of things. Claude Rains as the Invisible Man was invoked at the time.

but, and there is always a ‘but’, i revise that to be not nothing, but more of an atm to many, and once my largesse has subsided, i am relegated to the dustbin of the time, to be forgotten until the next time money or help or well, money, is required to make someone’s life ‘less stressful’. right.

and yes, i know, this sounds bitter, and hey, you aren’t far from wrong on that score, however to be honest, (funny comment about that, remind me) by and large it is my fault. perhaps an inner fault that i need to be seen as someone who helps just to boost my inner sense of something or other, or that i gain some sort of favour in whomever i am helping eyes. not sure where that came from, that feeling of insecurity but i think it is there. not sure though. therapist here i come! LOL.

and about the ‘to be honest’ thing. i love when people, especially sales associates, say ‘can i be honest with you?’… no, i want you to lie to me. WTF? LOL.

ages ago, a lifetime, no, two lifetimes ago, i wrote this little piece about me and who i thought i was, or am, or some such descriptor. recently i sent it to a new friend, and a friend that i truly believe came into my life, while not physically as of yet, but digitally and vocally, at the right time. quite enjoy her company, so to speak, and hope that it continues.

at any rate, she remarked to me, via a voice note that she found it amazing? interesting? something, that i wrote it so quickly. i guess thinks i. it is like this piece today. i’ve been at this for 15 minutes so far, ish, and here i am, and well, not sure where it’s going to end.

this AI thing interests me. to change the subject at 50K feet. chatgpt, which i will admit, i’ve used, and on here as well. they have an AI Assistant which analyses your post prior to publishing it. i get a kick out of using it at times, because sometimes it comes up with nothing, which i find odd, to the occasions when it comments that i should be more coherent, or make it more subjective, or some such machine way of thinking.

like a machine is going to know how my brain works. i’m sure it thinks it knows HOW my brain should work, however, have to tell you though, i can smell the circuits singeing right now… LOL

silly season is upon us. fuck. cannot tell you how much i loathe this time of year. ok, well, sure, i have in the past, but i will reiterate it for the newbies among you. I. HATE. CHRISTMAS. there, how’s that? fucking hate it. time of year that is filled with commercialism, false niceness, and plain old bullshit.

and sue me if you don’t like my views. i really don’t give a toss. the only good thing to come out of this time of year, is my son’s birthday, and the song A Long December by the Counting Crows.

we go on and on about ‘helping’ those in need at this time of year, but what about the other 11 months? how about that? and people posting on Insta-stupid, or TikCrock or some such social media bullshit, about their wishes, or gets, or what have you, makes me sick.

/end rant

and on to other things. or not. huh.

i need a break. got it into my head that i need to go away somewhere. warm. however, the whole inherent dislike of resorts precludes me going to any of those destinations. what to do yanni, what to do.

life is though, life is.

and until i invade these pages again, i hope that you and yours are all ok, and not in any areas of conflict…

and, as always, i bid you,

peace.

My Dad passed away a year ago… today actually.

My feelings are mixed when diving into this subject. I miss him. Do I miss him every day? I would be lying if I said yes. I don’t. Is that bad? I don’t know. I miss my mom too. Every day? Again. No. But they are in my heart. And will be until the day I die.

My life with them was complicated, as alluded to on here, several times if I’m not mistaken. The last years though, saw me, perhaps, grow as a person, a son, and a man.

Have I made them proud since they passed? No, probably not, although I would like to think that some of my actions had them thinking of me proudly.

A song came to mind today, by Eminem, called Walk on Water. The lyrics really speak to me, and some of them I can directly relate to.

Why, are expectations so high?
Is it the bar I set?
My arms, I stretch, but I can’t reach
A far cry from it, or it’s in my grasp, but as
Soon as I grab, squeeze
I lose my grip like the flying trapeze
Into the dark, I plummet
Now the sky’s blackening, I know the mark’s high
Butter-flies rip apart my stomach
Knowing that no matter what bars I come with
You’re gonna hark, gripe, and that’s a hard Vicodin to swallow
So I scrap these, as pressure increases, like khakis
I feel the ice cracking

My life. My own personal demons.

I have written about this in the past I am sure, that a friend with whom I am no longer in contact with, told me that I set my own bar so high that I have a hard time living up to me, and that people around me, at times, struggle to live up to me, living up to me.

Anyhow, life is, life is. You know?

I do miss you Dad, and of course you too Mom. My life is just not the same without you being there, even if it was as it was when you were alive the last few years.

I’m sorry for all the disappointments, and the failures.

But, I’m trying to get better.

My love, forever and always,

Your son,

Peace.

a lot of things. LOL.

but, people, some of you think, that i need to heal. perhaps i do. not sure.

i think that i have become so adept at burying the shit that should bother me, and only deal with (mostly) daily life that a ‘healing journey’ as one of you put it, isn’t something that becomes part of my makeup.

we all need to heal, right? transgression of friends, family, bosses, what have you. being scorned or hurt by those we thought were more than what they really turned out to be. being used by others, and being shunned by flesh and blood.

do i need to heal from any of that? probably. not smart enough to know where or how to start though, so i go merrily along, creating a wake of hurt, confusion and remorse as i go.

a fucking dick i was called recently. huh. not a new one, but not one that has been associated with me for a while. years actually if, well, ever.

told that my son, youngest, does not want to talk to me. no reason given, although i suspect, perhaps wrongly, and if so my apologies, that his mother or grandmother are behind this. cunts both of them at any rate.

not sure, well, no, that’s not true, i am sure about how people see me at large. someone who smiles, knows a thing or two about a thing or two, and spends money. but you see, while the public persona perhaps is this ‘hail fellow well met’ jackanape, the private one just isn’t that.

this will sound like an excuse, because i do know that i should write more, as it cleans out the junk that is ambling about my brain, but i don’t want to just pour out the same old tripe. my life is what it is, and what it is is, somewhat of a mess at times, and others, well, less messy.

do i need to heal? yeah, i do. from a lot, nay, myriad things.

journey of a thousand miles starts with one step though, right?

thanks for being here, and i do, as always hope that you and yours are not in any area of conflict.

and, as always, i bid you,

peace.

when you are facing the mortality of others, in comparison to your own.

i watched my parents fade away, and took the calls of their passing, and all the time that i was their caregiver of sorts, their own demises really never entered into my thought process, and when they did pass, i know that in my mom’s case, i got on the phone and notified governments, and credit card companies, and wrote emails and then her obituary.

but faced with mine, my thoughts turn to, well, ok. like i said to my father when he was questioning or worried about what would happen after he was gone… ‘who cares, you will be dead’ was my response. he laughed at that for the record.

who cares. you will be dead.

indeed.

i don’t have a ‘bucket list’ and think them to be a waste of time and frivolous.

do i have things that i wished to have accomplished? i’m sure i do, but to name them? it would be a struggle.

regrets? sure i do as does everyone i am sure. and, for that matter, i have written about them on here.

do i wish that i was a better person? husband? father? yes. unequivocally and resoundingly, yes.

will i leave a legacy behind? who knows. perhaps.

but, then again, who cares, you will be dead.

truer words have never been spoken.

peace.