I was browsing today through my old messages for an old message I was looking for but instead ran across a conversation between one of my absolute, I thought, best friend and my last conversation from seven months ago. That conversation has been eating at me all day.
All of a sudden my friend, so I thought she was my friend, wouldn’t talk to me on the phone she would text with me only. So, with no explanation she would only text with me but absolutely not talk to me on the phone. Now, this has never happened to me before and I continued to ask her why she would not talk to me. She would not give me an explanation no matter how much I asked her.
Finally out of frustration I told her I deserve an explanation as to why she wouldn’t talk to me on the phone. She kindly told me she owed me nothing. I never told her she owed me anything I just felt that if your best friend doesn’t want to talk to you but will text with you only, that kind of behavior warrants some kind of explanation, am I right? If you said yes you would be correct…LOL But instead of and explanation that would never come… I texted her and kindly told her to fuck off.
She proceeded to tell me this. “I’d think carefully about that. It’s not like you have a ton of friends.” I told her I didn’t have a ton of friends for a reason. And she just became one of those reasons. OUCH! Now she wants to shame me?
Theres a song by Five Man Electrical Band, it’s an oldie called Sign. It’s been running around my head today. One line in particular. “To put up a fence to keep me out or to keep Mother Nature in.” And another line says “Hey! What gives you the right?” There it is in a nice compact explanation.
If I were her I’d regret my behavior because it caused her to lose a best friend. No worries though, no one reads this shit its like journaling to yourself…LOL
In 2020 I am gonna tell my body that we are still a kid until she believes me.
At this point in my life I am so tired of my body out running my brain. Like, when I sit and write, kind of like right now, my body sits and chills like the old woman in my mirror or the same one on my drivers licenses. Both of them are my mother.
Somewhere I lost my will to strive and am constantly telling myself “you’re too old.” Whose decision was to it to tell me that I’m too old? Here is what I remember about the time in my life where I knew my prime was over, that’s when I became too old.
It all started when I realized that I didn’t matter anymore. I don’t mean not matter to the point of jumping to my death from a really tall building I mean not matter to the point that suddenly you are put away like a sweater you love but it’s not in style right now or it’s just too hot outside to wear it.
When I say “I don’t matter anymore” what I really mean is nobody acknowledges you or sees you like you think they used to when you were “younger.” It’s like you’re no longer worth a second glance.
When I began to feel isolated and alone it took me quite some time to accept the possibility that I no longer was the same person I was only a short time a go. Who was I becoming? Am I so insignificant that I’m waving goodbye to the person I used to see when I looked in the mirror while at the same time seeing the person I am becoming, or have become, and not believing what I see as my future?
When the hell did this happen?
I have made up my mind after several years of contemplation. I don’t want to write a book. The idea of being an author is a brutal amount of pressure that I can not spare during this phase of my life.
Don’t get me wrong now, I could put my thoughts and ideas on paper if I wanted too but I am lazy…LOL I also have a problem with concentration. I’ve decided that writers are a remarkable breed of people with a calling to write. I am totally not one.
So, what is it that I want to do? How important is that question to me? I know what I want to do and I’m glad I asked me.
I think what I will do for now is concentrate on golf and music. Music is my life…
Ok, so we are traveling by RV in the great midwest, I think. Is Colorado in the Midwest? BRB I need to check. Nope! You map picture takers need to get together and decided if it’s a midwestern state or not because some of y’all are saying it is and others are saying it’s not.
No matter. Let us just say it is for the sake of the story. Dang, I’ve already forgotten what I want to tell you about. Colorado is beautiful, way up in the mountains is cold, reefer is in abundance, which would be great if I smoked 😉.
About the cold up in the mountains. Did I mention the temp went from 88* to 31* in 4.5 miles? I suppose that is really great for the colorodians, however. Being a native of Ft.Lauderdale, Fl. and now living in the swamps of Louisiana, it was an arctic blast to my system. I managed to get out of the car for thirty seconds then right back in I went. Side note: I do not like the cold nor the heat…LOL
I was impressed by the beauty of the mountains especially while we were coming down it, in the rain, and the sleet, and right on the edge.🥶
Now, I like pictures of things, I really do, but when people take pictures of the same mountains from every possible angle available I must draw the line right there. The Colorodians however are pleased that you love the mountains as much as they do, as if they created them themselves. My advice is to use your cellphone to take as many pictures of every thing you can, and when you get home…Warm up your thumb for some profound, delete, delete, delete… hehehe…
So, I’m listening to an audible book Gilded Needles by Michael McDowell, when a proper English lady described the appearance of a man friend as “pleasantly fleshy.”
This description will be my new, and kinder way of describing my baby weight, yes, baby weight. No, I have not born such a thing as a baby, no maternal instincts here, however. I do so love my Nieces and Nephews and want to eat them up but when it comes to birthing one of those I was absolutely not interested and leave that rigorous job to others.
My baby clock bongy thingy was not imbedded in me. Thank all the gods for that…
I have helped deliver many of those buggers though and fail to see the miracle until it cry’s gets a bath and is swaddled for comfort. Other than that, yuck! Let me tell ya…
Here I go, off course again.
My attention span is why I will always be a faithful member of the #turtlewriters I am not required to keep up with anyone else and there are more poor attention span folks like me out there…LOL
I am pleasantly fleshy, I love it! I play golf and I travel, I walk around with the dogs.
No body shaming here. We women are so hard on ourselves.
I wonder if Michael McDowell, author of the book I’m listening to,has a wife, daughters, large women or man friends whom are pleasantly fleshy, because he really couldn’t have been any kinder in his description.
I have sleep paralysis, oh yeah, it’s real. In life, if there are things you personally haven’t experienced it doesn’t make it not real. As a matter of fact, count yourself lucky.
This shit is too real. The scary part of night terrors is knowing you’re having one but no way in hell can you get out of it. It only takes how ever much time it takes to recognize the terror and then the amount of time to claw your way out of it is like a mystery to me.
While the terror is happening you are fighting with all of your might to get out of it. I usually at one point how to get away from it. Fortunately though there is nothing there trying to get me at least nothing I can see, however.
I am kicking, screaming, biting, and clawing myself awake and my own wife lying next to me has no idea what’s happening because in that phase of the terror I call relentless…is just that, relentless. No one can hear your screams of terror because no sound is coming from your mouth even though you are using all of your might. No one can feel your thrashing because it’s all in my mind and my terrors are selfish little bastard that love to watch me struggle.
This brain is a sadist…
How many days had I been dead? Damn! I am dead, right?
I know this graveyard. Those are my dogs sitting there. I remember you doing the Heimlich on me, babe. Didn’t work I guess.
Damn, me thirty years a paramedic and I got taken out by chocking. Damn you Grim Reaper and your foul play. Touché you bastard.
We were just sitting there watching the season premiere of Game of Thrones.
I’m sorry, babe. All those times you told me to stop chewing that ice… now you’re standing over my urn in this graveyard.
Can you hear me, babe? Can you see me?
Choking, the last thing I remember. Here we are now.
What do we do from here babe?