Revolt
Tuesday, August 05, 2003
I thought and thought, and thought some more. Here is what I found in the murk. For a few days, about since I started this journal, I've slacked off. All this fighting and misery took the energy out of me. I lost the motivation of which I am so proud. I hadn't cleaned up, hadn't paid much attention to the kids, not even the cats saw much of me. All those things which superficially cause this rift between us such as the cleaning, organizing, fixing, whatever, had stopped. Whoops. Integrity. A word I learned about four years ago popped into my head. The definition is not as important as the ideal. The ideal is simply one's character. To tarnish the ideal (slack off of the things one perceives as good, as duty, as proper) is to lose integrity. Why stop what is right-doing because you suddenly don't care? I DO care. I have the strength, and the simple tasks of cleaning and whatnot are perfect for clearing the mind, causing satisfaction (probably the only satisfaction of late). So I resolved to start over this morning, as soon as I woke up, to rebuild that pattern so easily ruined over a few days and lots of fighting. Damn what she thinks about why I do what I do. I know my doings are right, productive and beneficial, therefore I will do them. If we ever get out of this, she might appreciate the fact that the house is still clean, the kids are still clean, the cats aren't starving, the computer has no viruses, the trash made it out. What more do I need to say. Oh, yeah. I can say that since 6:30 this morning, my day has gone considerably better than the last few. Cleaning the cat box was a downer, but four loads of laundry and a running of the vacuum wiped the smell off my mind and left me euphorically satisfied with a job well done. (And now I won't trip on that damned toy for the 432nd time this week) I think this will be a better state in which to meet the counselor tomorrow afternoon too. It is possible to keep some sanity in all this.History
Monday, August 04, 2003
Let us look, for a moment, on what has transpired. O not in the heady, thunder-cloud days of the near past, but in the distant mists. Far from here, far from all this there was once... A baby, which seemed to hold in its little hand the crux of this little world of mine. And I said yes to the baby, yes to her mother. This was amazing, wonderful, all that I'd been wishing for in that tiny little world in which I lived. Then emerged complete bliss when mother and child and father were together. This was in the midst of chaos, distrust, loss, many things and yet we were US. I found happiness in holding, strolling, talking, cooking, changing, writing. These things remained for years. I was happy. I did my best to show it. I saw no shadows encroaching, merely challenges and obstacles for our little family to overcome. And our family grew. A second daughter, and a third. Each with her own added dimension to "my little world" which consisted of both joy and challenge. And I remained happy. Then came unhappiness. We found distance between us. This was voluntary, with no enmity between us. But unhappiness found us just the same. In two years we managed to destroy what we'd been building for the preceeding four. Distrust, loss, confusion, anger, all this and more began to concentrate. Now, nearly seven years from that simple, pure beginning, there is nothing but anger and loneliness. No solution presents itself. I seek the solution. I fear the solution for it may be the one I am beginning to expect. I am hardly comforted by the knowlege that I can carry on in the face of any result. The thought makes me sad, lonely once again, though I haven't experienced that feeling in what feels like ages.CSTT
This is the Blog hosted by the Woppat that has (hopefully temporarily) become Therapy online for me. Hahahaha. Electronic Zoloft. Did I spell that right? So I am starting counseling on Wed. Wonder what they're gonna tell me. I know the lady there and she's really nice. Kinda old biddie type, but that might be the best. It's a she, which should be able to give me the woman's perspective. As if I wasn't in touch with my femininity enough already. I'm surrounded by a harem. Okay, anyway, enough of the roundabout attempts at humor and sarcasm. What they've told me (they means all my amateur therapists) is as follows: 1. I am a product of the Navy. This means I'm a person who is driven, realistic, multi-functional, organized, pro-active, worldly, resourceful, blah blah blah. Basically, I take this to mean I've been around the world too many times to be a normal, average schmo of 29 years. 2. I'm not emotional in my dealings with others. I am curt, responsive, direct, but particularly unemotional/lackluster/dispassionate when facing both good and bad issues. 3. I don't listen (REALLY listen) to the issues. 4. I can't make sense of 2+3. It does not = 5 5. I care too much to just give it up and take the easy way out, therefore I am still here, still screaming inside my own head, actually asking the people, who used to scream at me, for help. What does all this mean? Based on #1: I'm a retard, unable to function as a real person. Based on #2: I'm too busy to bother with road-signs, flowers and sunshine. Positive point being I'm not distracted by rain. (then why am I stopping to type all this?) Based on #3: I'm still here. Might be deaf and imagining all this. Wow. Based on #4: Opinions can't add. Based on #5: Why do I want to run? Who's to say I'm not just trapped here by income, children, logistics of all sorts? I'm being honest as I know how. Maybe this will all pay off. If not, I'm going to a hole in the base of a cliff with basic water and food supplies, power, a computer and access. There I will finish my stinkin' language in solitude and try to convince myself I am a society of one so my stinkin' language will be useful.Plunk
Sunday, August 03, 2003
I got a tad drunkish last night. Stayed up late with a bottle of wine. The second bottle stayed up late with me. The good thing was that the first wine was exceptional and the second wasn't too great. By the time I'd finished with the first, of course, I didn't care. The moral of this story is: drink the good one first, you'll be conscious enough to enjoy and remember it. The bad part about last night was breaking a candle-holder. I wasn't drunk, however, which always perplexes me. Clumsier and more accident prone while sober sort of defeats the "alcohol-related incident" rule. I really have to try hard to screw up while drunk. It may be due to my being a roaring, boistrous, LAZY drinker. I only drink at home and am always seated. Must be it. I really miss that candle-holder. I think I drank more to get over the pain of loss, even though there are three still standing. I slept on the couch last night. I love that couch. Can't bring myself to sleep in the normal sleeping place lately. It's not fun to spend time there. I don't think it's good to pretend everything is going well. That is sort of what would be happening if I maintained the same routine. I sure wish I could move out for a little while for some breathing space. Reason #628 for not staying in the military.
Take the "Which FARK Cliche Are You" quiz!
Road Rage
Saturday, August 02, 2003
After a perfect date with the wench at our Thai restaurant, we had to stop off at the grocery store for necessary kidstuff. Driving through the parking lot ended up in a mixup more than just finding a spot. The BIG black SUV decided to pull out just as we were passing by. It did a good job of scaring me and the wench. I have a habit of making a disgruntled face at people like that (from the safety of my car). So I made my face at the guy and carried on. He followed me. The progression of events is easy enough to predict. I got to my destination easily enough, and was met by not just BBSUV, but his little-bittie car buddy. Facing three or more disgruntled gentlemen (my face must have been a good one), I was put on the defensive. I know what I should have done. I know what I shouldn't have done. I did the latter. I just kinda looked the other way as they used the old routine. Bully/gang tactics and threats work quite well on me and I just chickened out. I implied what they wanted me to and went my merry way. Wench, having more balls, at least made a stab at confronting them, but by then I'd already lost the battle for us. So much for a good date. This sort of thing hasn't happened to me in years. Good to know I haven't changed much. I justified everything with a very rousing bout of "Put self-preservation in front of my actions" and that worked for me. As the wench says, however, they'll just continue on with their quasi-illegal brute/bully tactics next time. And they'll continue until they're stopped or dead. I should have said the following: "I apologize, sir, for interrupting your day with my expression of disdain for your driving skills. Yes, I understand there are three of you, each of whom is big enough to pound my tiny ass to jello. If there really is a problem, l can call the police, and have them sort out the problem for us. Please refrain from bullying or hitting me until the boys in blue arrive so there's an audience for your self-indulgence. Oh, and please, if you have weapons or intend to damage my car or my wife, please try not to feel bad if I am not willing to cooperate further. Blah blah blah." Of course, all the while, I would have been using my intelligence skills to memorize their license plates and descriptions for future use. I'm sorry, o' community, for failing to provide an example of model citizenship. Maybe somebody else will take up my slack. Maybe I should get a BBSUV and some henchmen.Dedication
Friday, August 01, 2003
This is my first near real-time entry since the very first one was just playing around and the almost first one was developed a week before posting here. This one is hopefully a motivating opening statement. Thanks, Lib, for setting this up for me. I wouldn't have done it myself, lazy as I am. I hope I use my new powers for good, but if not, I'll just be good at using them. I'm learning quickly enough so far. If only I could do this stuff at work. I'd write pages and pages nearly every day. Guess that's why they call it work. So, this whole thing is dedicated to Lib, the remains of MAAS and, of course, selfishness. What does an agnostic-dyslexic-insomniac do at bedtime? Lay awake all night wondering if there really is a dog. Oh, and just in case it's okay to add to the posting after posting, here's my other stuff for today... If anyone knows how to bring back that thing... you know, the passion, or mystical outlook on everything, or whatever it is, once you've outgrown it... Send an email my way. I've tried to achieve "mushy" mindset many times in the past few years and it's just not running up as it once did. Not that I really need such a frivolous thing. Govan'am will agree that it is more a waste of energy than a boon. Objectively, realistically, being mushy is self-destructive. I like being emotionless and analytical. But I miss the crystalline moments when I was "deep" and emotional and mystical and all those things that seemed to "work well on girls." Hah.101 Things About Me
Wednesday, July 30, 2003
# I have attempted to create an artistic masterpiece since I could hold a crayon.
# My masterpiece apparently has nothing to do with paper, crayon, or any other physical media.
# I don’t get angry often.
# I get even more often, usually by means of the Atlas technique.
# I am really skinny.
# My tattoos distract many people from my thin nature.
# I got my tattoos between the age of 19 and 22.
# I have been lusting for more off and on since then.
# I think I’m over it now. Things change.
# I am writing this at the age of 29.
# It doesn’t feel as though I’ve made it beyond 22.
# Probably because I don’t have any more tattoos.
# I think I’m over it now.
# I have brown hair, which turns a pleasant reddish when wet.
# I have green eyes which turn remarkable colors when I’m happy or mad.
# I have really long fingers. Long enough to do really intricate tasks. Long enough to get in the way of the tools for the intricate tasks.
# I cut or impale my fingers on a regular basis.
# I have not bled to death yet, but I thought I did once.
# Everyone I know has given me grief about my size. I’m vain enough to know they’re jealous. Especially those weightlifter dudes over there.
# I didn’t invent the Llama.
# My music preferences appear to be symptoms of OCD. I play the same album, sometimes the same song, over and over. The most common sounds from my music box are Celtic tunes and instrumental stuff.
# I have a wife. She is awesomer than I am in many respects. I have some quality that is superior, I just can’t seem to place it.
# I have four kids. They’ve got me beat hands down. More patience, persistence, energy. Better looking (those are from me?) and smarter.
# People give me a hard time about four daughters. I know better. I don’t want a son. Never did.
# But they are NOT available. All four are on restriction until the age of 18.
# My favorite thing as a kid was stuffed animals.
# I collected (and still collect) Tom Swift, Louis L’amour, business cards, pens and small pieces of hardware (screws, bolts, nails).
# I collect books, boxes (the nice ones, not cardboard, silly), dragons, Father Christmas figures (I think Gandalf fits in there, right?), and bad habits.
# I am a coffee junky. Actually, anything I really like, I overdo it. But Coffee is really bad.
# I don’t sweat much. Except when I mow the lawn at noon on a cloudless, 90 degree day after drinking a pot of coffee.
# I still have acne, though not as bad as 10 years ago. If I could get rid of one thing, THAT would be it.
# I have written over 200 poems. I have yet to get off my ass and publish them. I have put at least 30 of them on electronic media since I wrote my first one in 1990.
# I’ve been writing again, after a long block during 2003 and most of 2004.
# I have lived over 6 years in Hawaii. It’s not paradise, sorry. Townsville, Australia may be closer to paradise.
# I have been to (set foot on for more than a quick stop) more than 15 different countries in the world, most of which have shores on the Pacific or Indian Oceans.
# I have a great talent for languages. I have yet to have time to prove this to anyone beyond myself.
# I made up my own language. It’s useless to make up your own language unless you make up a country to speak it.
# I think I know a lot about computers.
# I know more ways to break them than fix them.
# As I write this, I have been in the US Navy for 8 years, 6 months and 4 days.
# I have approximately 2 years left in this organization.
# I am very proud of my service in this military.
# I am not proud of all the things I’ve done in this capacity.
# I will miss the Navy on the day I am discharged.
# I will not miss the uniform, the duty, the people.
# I love the ocean and I never want to see it again.
# I used to think I would make a good ninja.
# I have been overconfident many times in my life.
# I taught my kids that the number one rule is “don’t be stupid”
# They follow it better than I do, sometimes.
# My favorite story of all time is Melanie Rawn’s “Dragon Prince-Dragon Star” series.
# I have soundtracks for most of my favorite books. The score for #51 is the “Last of the Mohicans” soundtrack.
# I never get rid of clothes. I wear some of the same shirts I had in Junior High.
# I graduated from High School in 1992 and remember no-one in my class. I graduated in Seoul, Korea.
# I remember very little about my senior year. I spent the entire time in a closet (voluntarily) with nothing but a drafting table, a chair and a bookshelf stocked with books and a CD player.
# The only interesting thing I did in school was JROTC, which lasted 6 months.
# I won “Top Gun” for shooting the highest score in the Pacific DOD schools JROTC rifle teams. I remember that accomplishment vividly.
# I AM related to Wild Bill. That must be where the shooting comes from. He might have been a linguist too, but that is not confirmed.
# I have 3 siblings. I am the oldest. Steve is a masterful artist of nearly every medium. He is really strange too. Heather is a wonderful pianist, has perfect pitch. Ben is an accomplished percussionist and one of the foremost examples of Christians I know.
# I hate TV. Specifically commercials. I rarely even trouble myself to turn it on. I have little respect for people who keep the TV on all day. I will not watch even the best movie in the world if it’s on a channel with commercials.
# My favorite movies are Moll Flanders, The Fifth Element, StarWars, What Dreams May Come, and, of course everything by Python.
# I have engaged in sex with 3 people in my life. One of them was a professional, one was for fun, one is for love. I don’t believe in the spirituality of sex anymore. There’s only one left.
# I believe in the compliment, the trust and honesty of sex. The spirituality of it all stinks of magic.
# Becoming Christian did not suddenly cause me to retract the statements in this list. Most of the meanings may have changed somewhat, however.
# I am still a mystic and appreciate faerie rings, full moons, candles and all the other trappings that make faith and magic undeniable.
# For that reason, I deny myself most of the mystical. Magic is not a means I can live by or with.
# I have great fashion style. My wife buys my clothes. I hate patterns and logos.
# I have a green thumb. I only keep plants in my garden if they promise to stay alive without my having to coddle them.
# There is no sport that interests me save, perhaps, Volvo-bashing.
# My dream home will consist of a library and a tub for one that will fit at least three (being six feet long makes standard tubs obsolete). All other rooms and options will be left to somebody else.
# I am an accomplished swimmer and have taught many in a professional status. I haven’t been to the pool more than one time this year. Last year was a little better with 3 different pools. I hate the beach.
# I get hypothermia very easily. My first teaching experience was at the pool in Green Mountain Falls, CO.
# I really wanted to live forever. Now I just want to live until I get tired of it.
# I have a perfect plan to succeed at #73. There are some problems with technology.
# I’ve recently found the means to live forever. It’s not in the manner I previously expected, however, but much more pleasant in the end.
# I have only been driving since I was 25. I was too lazy to get my license.
# I hate driving now, and want to give my license back.
# I love my car. It’s a Ford Escort LX four door. White, dented, CD player, kidstains and all, it’s my car.
# I am selfish and self centered. I don’t give up my things.
# I am easily swayed to others’ opinions. Probably because I am overly trusting.
# I give more than I take. I am not proud of that.
# I AM glad of that, however.
# I am not a pathological liar, however, I am an empathic embellisher.
# Growing up was just about the same as being grown up. Things happen.
# It took me 28 years to figure out what to do with myself. Maybe I am just now growing up.
# It has really disturbed people to find out that I have a plan. I suspect it is hard to believe that after 28 years I actually have a plan.
# I have kept many secrets from my family. None of them are really worth keeping. The subjects just don’t come up, and all is trivial.
# I have never cheated on my wife.
# I have lied more to my parents than any other person on earth, except maybe God, but he said he wasn’t listening.
# I was wrong about God. But not any more.
# I type really fast with little or no errors. Nobody seems to care.
# I hate typos, expecially in something disseminated to the public.
# I can read and write fluently in Futhark runes.
# I have never done drugs. Nearly everyone I know doubts that.
# I love cats. Dogs are stupid.
# I will return to the desert one day. Probably to die. Hopefully a few times before that.
# I have stolen plenty of things before. Have been caught only in the times it was completely harmless. I’ve managed to overcome this vice.
# I am a perfectionist neat freak. Once or twice a week.
# I drink. Beer. Lots when I get it, but don’t really care if it’s not there.
# Beer is not alcohol for me. I really do enjoy the taste. I’m very finicky about beer.
# I am really really strict with my children. I am picky, demanding and easily frustrated with them. Better that than letting them play with cars in the street.
# I never hate my life. Sometimes I hate when others’ lives intrude.
# I know I shouldn’t.
# I don’t have a “True Love.” I have two names that would contend for that honor if it existed. I don’t think it exists in the literal sense of the terms.
# I like silver, green, blue, copper, water, heat, dirt, paper, skin, wood. Mostly natural stuff.
# I don’t like gold, red, yellow, plastic, cold, white, hair, pollen, disorder. Mostly fake stuff.
# I have a very indirect approach to achieving goals. I acheive my goals.
# I waste time, am very lazy, but move efficiently when necessary.
# I eat steak or grilled cheese and peanut butter when I can get them. I could live off them, and burritos, of course.
# I am a male. I collect images of pretty girls and store them on my computer. I justify this by stating that at least I can draw them. I am collecting material for inspiration.
# That last one was a lie. I am victim to the common fault in men. We become obsessed with pretty girls.
# In August, I wiped every image of my computer and chucked my collection. Part of my “Living Forever Plan.”
# I used to write all the time. I have exquisite penmanship. I haven’t done it in awhile.
# I LOVE to LOOK BEHIND THE CURTAIN and find out who the mysterious man in green is. Sometimes there’s a very important thing or two I might forget. This usually helps me figure out what I’m looking for.
About Me
I’m the one that’s writing something secret in the shadows.
I’m the one that’s following.
Independent thought only happens when I’m in the background.
Poetry happens without ceasing.
I’m the one who is talking in circles, split between a dozen themes.
I’m the one who made up a language so I can talk to myself.
I’m the one who writes simply because the paper listens.
I’m His servant.
I am my Beloved’s.
You won’t find me dancing.
You won’t find me telling the great joke.
You’ll find me skipping through the parking lot after work.
You’ll find me in a perfect uniform on the way to work.
You’ll find my nose in a book
My head in the clouds,
My pen is expensive.