finding direction for the next decade

With 48 hours until 2020, I wonder what intentions I want to take into the next decade?
- Take better care of my physical health by changing diet and exercise routines
- Become more in tune with my mental health, by renewing my meditation practice...
- ...and by strengthening and nurturing my communication network
- Start planning for old age, through retirement investments
- Plan for my eventual death by drafting legal documents and setting aside the resources, so that my friends and family have clear instructions on what my wishes are
===========
On a small scale, I really should
- plan for at least one interesting vacation,
- gain a master's or higher degree, to better...
- ...position myself to be able to teach college courses,
- try to find reasonable housing? (section 8? another city?)
- Better develop my known hobbies, including graphic art, writing, acting, "parlour games", and possibly dancing (need to get limber first)
- explore other hobbies, like crafting, gardening, cooking
I'll leave at that, as I have to go check on a big pot of black eyed peas....

I tried to hawk some future poems,
Through these bland pages of Facebook:
"For any donations you'd give,
Some crafty lines I'd try to cook!"

Alas, I'm not a gourmet school trained chef;
My cooking mimics what I learned from Dad...
As my writing right hand copies his left!
...And his speech is like a Michigan lad...

Whether I'm mincing or blending phrases,
I must admit, I can hear Dad's stories -
Not the Texan's Tall Tales in those spaces -
Just some under-stated humble glories...

Note: I consider myself "un-dateable" because:
1) My income's been so pitifully poor for my adult life, that I can't "treat myself to special events", much less anyone else - like a live arts show, or a dinner, or other costly outings (guess it's time to think outside the box)
2) I'm not very physicallyattractive - dough boy body - and I'm not terribly interested in spending time on diet and exercise to become so
3) After the various harassment incidents in the news, since the 1980's, I'm very hesitant to try to initiate dates with women. There's this message I picked up from the media, "don't bother us women with your various advances because we're getting far too many of them from boys in general" (I note that, as a man, I do not sense advances towards me from women for an overwhelming majority of my time) ...so, I'd rather put the ball back in the women's court to start up dating. (Unfortunately, women are very wary of initiating any advances, due to repeated burns by bad men in their past)
4) Most of the women I've been interested in, have been work associates or church or AA or social groups - so... there's another hesitation about trying to date in those spheres, in case the relationship gets awkward and disrupts the group in which we know each other. I've broken this rule a couple of times, with the corresponding disastrous results when the relationship got awkward. (I've also attempted online dating, but that's led to some strange stories of it's own. I will not repeat them on Facebook.)
5) I also don't think I fit the media's portrayal of the All-American Guy that everyone wants to be around. I'm not athletic, extroverted, decisive, handy, touchy-feely (see 3 for why) etc etc... (I am fairly intelligent, and playful around friends, and...????)
Might be able to flesh this out more, if I thought more about it... but I'll stop on that. (cross-posting to my timeline)

some strange self-confession at 1 a.m.
there's a desire to confide in somebody -
or just talk honestly with them about my confusions -
yet I have lost so much trust in "that process"...
i have my regular one-on-one therapy, this morning.
i still chafe at the idea of paying somebody,
so that they will listen to my problems.
i have to remind myself,
"I am paying for their training in listening skills,
I am paying them because they have better awareness
Of bipolar, and social services, and so much more
That most of my friends have
Only limited knowledge to draw upon."
i can imagine people in AA saying,
"What about a sponsor, eh?"
After 10+ sponsors in 14 years,
I want to laugh that idea down:
"If they are a good sponsor,
Then they can show how
They use the Steps in their own lives...
...Most people, though, are not good sponsors -
At least, good by that definition."
I want to confide in others,
But I'm afraid of the shaming,
And I'm afraid of the fear,
And I'm afraid of the advice
That would get stirred up.
Are these phantasms in my mind?
Fantasies with no basis in reality?
Because I've seen the shaming, the fear, the advice
Heaped upon others who spoke out -
Because I've seen how my past posts got treated -
Because I'm afraid I've called wolf too many times...
"No, I would have to say,
There's some evidence
For me to be wary of being open, anymore."
And, yet, I suffer in silence.
I want to speak out,
But I'm afraid I've been
Written off for saying too much.
Another fear lurks in the background:
All these delicate matters,
All these resentments,
All this paranoia --
They have wormed and knotted their way
Through my mind,
Adding on the fears as they go,
Until what I want to say...?
I no longer know.

so... i vomit out all the bad stress in my life, and appear to be whining and complaining. I imagine some will then hide my posts or block me, because they don't want to see that stream of negativity.
I did get to enjoy a couple of good meals, today; and most of the tutoring was not difficult to explain, yet it still had nuances of challenge. I was rather upset that the student/tutor ratio was awfully high - not enough tutors to meet the students' demands...
I am rather concerned by my pseudo-narcolepsy... just nodding off to sleep at all times of the day, under all sorts of caffeine levels. It makes me suspect that I might be falling out of balance on vital minerals and nutrients - especially as that has happened in my past.
yet... the nihilistic ennui? yes, I could strive for a healthier, more balanced life, with lots of abundance. Yet, I suspect there is an extreme amount of stress to take on, to get there, especially as a single-income household. So, the thought of suicide tries to present itself as an attractive alternative to all of that stress.
This rat race - it's just so dehumanizing.... so unsatisfying. There has got to be a better model of society that would make lives pleasant for a much larger majority. How can we make this world a much better place for all who live on it?

I gave a presentation today, to about 30 fellow tutors, on trying to understand Number Sense shortcuts. People claim they thought everyone was interested through it all.
I feel that it ended up being incredibly disorganized, with poor notes to follow up on.
I feel a bit ashamed at how chaotic it was, like I was doing a horrible disservice to teaching, to The Number Sense contest, to my own abilities...
I guess I have to wait for the evaluations, yet it feels like “shades of 2003”, when I had a meltdown during student teaching.
The impending sense of doom, this week, gelled into very palpable, tangible doom.

Left to spend another night alone,
With aching back pains galore;
But not willing to dial the phone,
For fear of being a bore...
Not willing to accept calls, either -
I need my sleep, tonight.
already burned out, barely one week in?
(f*ing two-job society...)
(f*ing manic swings...)
Angry that the computer is not typing back,
I'm all up in arms and wanting to f* all this..
Maybe the irish had it best
With a good meal and a long nap?

I’ve been plagued by feelings of worthlessness, this week; brought on by little to no social contacts. I’ve been brought to tears, at least 4 times, over the last 48 hours.
A friend mentioned that I’m the only one who needs to value my life on a previous post; but to what end, if no one else cares to have me around? I imagine if I felt more self-reliant, than I wouldn’t care as much about being in a community...
As near as I can tell, I’m grieving the loss of absent friends..,? Or, I’m just stressed by a more demanding life? I don’t know... it’s got me flustered, though.

Tears came thrice, today;
Hot, intense tracks crossed my cheeks...
Yet, unknown - my pain....

Still screaming, my mind...
Despaired by this stressful life,
No exits - harsh lights.

This Is Just To Say
BY WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

another moment of existential ennui..
My muscles and joints have been aching all night -
I cancelled plans to meet friends...
...which makes this a week of non-socialization?
I just want all the pining,
and all the pains
to evaporate?
No, I really just want
To sleep soundly,
In the hopes
That dreams can fix me?

it feels like my resolve ran out.
my mind just wants to rebel.
it's an ugly mixed episode feeling,
where I want to go manically spend;
yet there is no money,
and even walking around seems treacherous,
due to inclimate weather...
so, it's cabin fever?
perhaps a bit...
and the attempts to distract my mind,
and the hope to be distracted,
Just are not working:
So, suddenly it starts throwing suicidal ideas up -
Trying to tempt me to really give up...
part of me wants to throw up.
it's just an ugly evening,
a horrible reminder
that i don't feel comfortable yet,
especially in my own home;
but also in my current life choices.
the immediate irritants
could take me out?
in the middle of an insane desire
to have peace and comfort again,
...everything could be thrown away...
"such reckless abandon,
such unfeeling selfishness"
Again, I attempt to sleep it off,
to hope for more than an hour nap...

The frantic man
Screamed at the wall,
Hoping the silent bricks
Would sing sweet melodies
About how they all came together...
Alas!
The only voices heard, that night,
“We’re terrible whispers -
Drones deep inside your head;
Built out of your failures,
And cemented together
By your frenzied flights
In fancy and in ‘keeping busy’...”
A man can die
From only a dozen
Deadly bee stings -
He can also die
If he jumps, thinking,
“This time, I can fly!”

I felt so isolated today;
And, even now, I still feel that way...
It stirs up all sorts of fears...
...that I'll trip on my wanderlust,
And get horribly lost.
...or, thinking I will be alone forever,
I'll opt to opt out,
To end it all,
To avoid a prolonged misery of invisibility.
"Sorry, Dad, it's not a happy poem, yet..."
...just let me choke on my pride
and wallow in my piss pool of regrets..
Considering the isolating cause of my distress,
This IS my pitiful cry out for attention,
In the hopes that it will stave off my duress.
But I'll probably half-heartedly cry myself to sleep,
Shooting astral daggers at all, while I weep,
With the thoughts stirred up in my mind's dungeons,
"Fuck Facebook and all its false views of friendship..."

I am hitting that point of resistance.
I do not want to sit in my room, and draft up the presentation on number sense tricks. (procrastination in action)
I do not want to go stomping around in the wintry mix of weather, mostly because I can not think of a destination I want to go to, that I can currently afford.
I am not thrilled at the idea of calling people, or even online chats... partly because I can't think of anything that I would enjoy talking about?
the games on the phone... either played out for the day, or just so much grind fest.
I will probably ending up, lying down, with the radio playing, for a two hour nap. then i will be faced with restlessness at 8:30 pm.
sure...I could flesh out the various one-sentence paragraphs, but my manic mode wants to bounce instead of focus.

My non-specific request for a ride to AA, tonight:
1 - keep in mind that I live in SE Austin, near Bluff Springs and I-35
2 - I was hoping to attend an AA meeting, tonight...
3 - My preference would be for 1313, or the 5:30 12@12, but that’s not required...
4 - The skies have been slinging sleet and ice at us, today - not the best weather to walk, bike, or bus within...
Would anyone like to provide me a ride to and from an AA meeting, tonight? Best way to respond is probably through Facebook Messenger...

Acting from a position of power and security to cause duress and pain to those less fortunate spawns all sorts of abuses. It is at the heart of racism, sexism, classism, and various other ism's...
Yet, I get the impression that many people would discount my personal opinions about such behaviors, because I have never been on their receiving end of the ism abuses (at least, that's how they feel, from their perspective) (since, I am a white, middle-class male, native US, Christian citizen.)
Or... some people feel that because I'm in that position of power, I need to actively counter-act others' abuses by personally providing "favored treatment" to the affected populations. I have mixed opinions about this, but... "queue the 3 people at the fence, standing on different size blocks". To me, it really depends if those amends are helping to accommodate and heal the disability created by the ism, or if they are just trying to cover up continued abuses.
Unfortunately, though, even if I try actively to look beyond the protected characteristics, to try to be a better human... there are deeply seated behaviors in my interactions that still can get triggered. One thing that comes to mind is expressing my physical attraction (or the frustration created by not doing so)... Another I can think of is the difference in tutoring presentations depending on my first impressions of different students...There's probably some fear, too, built around living and walking around in barrios and how that can affect my interactions with strangers I pass on the street.
It's disheartening, really. I am taught by my culture, from an early age, unhealthy behaviors towards others. Even when I try to act against that grain, my little protest can easily be lost when others still see the "single, white man".

this is me,
trying to force out my writing...
i want to avoid
ruminating on the negatives;
i want to embrace
the beauty, the simple, the elegant...
will my mind cooperate?
not without many inner lashings and reprimands,..
you see..or, rather, let me explain...
it sees a problem to solve,
a thing creating disease --
and, focusing and magnifying on that -
all the butterflies and bees
are pushed aside with the flowers and trees...
to make room for nothing more than fleas.
I end up, picking at scabs
That have not an ounce of itchy pain,
IN some forlorn hope
That my skin will be smooth, again.
and... alas, infection is more likely.
noting, now, how negative this turned -
I refrain from banging my head upon the keyboard,
and crying, in desparation,
"Why, God? Why does it go down the drain?"
...yet i will not flush this post,
and I will probably never come back to revise it..
So, it will bleach into the white page,
Like some sort of dog scat,
Left to bake on a friendly Texas sidewalk.

Random strangers are starting to talk with me, during my daily travels. I try to be pleasant and attentive...
Although I do wonder what may be the sparks that lit up all this chit-chat...

May this be happy,
And may it be peaceful...
That the fury and futility subside;
In hopes that life becomes joyful.
It is hard to deny that the fears gnaw upon my bones;
And a challenge to spy gathered birds and bees, not alone.
I am grateful for...
Loving friends and family,
Relative peace in the city;
A cupboard that is not empty;
The company of pets
To bring me back to here and now...
I have some regrets,
Some words harshly spoken,
Lashing out at the world
When fear gripped my throat,
And made me weep for my uncertain future...
Yet, that fear...?
It's the fear of losing something we have, no?
Or is it karma's bitter reminder
That we will receive that which we have sewn?
I must try to sleep, now;
As an early morning approaches -
Beginning a new job,
And continuing an old one;
With the later evening spent
Over board games with friends.
May the sleep be restful,
May the dreams flow from the gate of truth,
And may tomorrow bring us all
Some small measure that life's joys
Are in our pudding's proof..?
Have I had enough meat, yet?

Still picking at a sore, here...
It is not so much the isolation
That comes from being alone,
But the abandonment
When the frenzy of former friendships fizzles,
And I become neglected and abandoned
Like a Jack-o-Lantern on Thanksgiving Day?
"oh, the old patterns! Oh, the old sayings!
Oh, the trouble of being inconvenienced..."
When no longer in fashion,
Must I adopt a new vogue?
Or become a two-bit character actor,
Playing to scripts unseen?

Words are like water,
Slipping through the chasms of my mind.
I want to make sense.
I want to be well understood.
It's a desire for connection,
Or perhaps respect due an elder.
And, yet, my mirror has been shattered,
And my feeble attempts to articulate
Are ending in grotesque tragedies
I flail at my circumstance,
Or I try to whip up
Some sympathetic frenzy
and paranoia tells me
that you hear me crying
too many wolves
...or that no one is left in this empty room.
every poem creates a sad water color
every post gets casually liked, then passed over
every meeting, i climb upon a soapbox
only to be shunned as a dirty heathen.
I float adrift, in this plastic choked sea
stripped of all the stories that lend identity.

My motivation has eroded away,
Drained by lonely day after lonely day;
And this winter's horrible, intermittent pay.
Stuck in a virtual tunnel,
Staring down the fear train,
And I've already been spread a mile thin
Across the rusty, overgrown tracks.
I would love to be happy again.
I would be happy to love again.
...alas, I feel so invisible, most days;
written off as unimportant.. or negative.. or Eeyore..
Or just another hyper-critical Virgo?
'Tis hard to say, "What should I say?"
'Tis hard to believe
That entertainment reigns supreme,
And if my stories bore you or confuse you,
Then my fate will be to speak to empty rooms.
The lingering thought, the past remark
That I'm just another autism spectrum,
With some narrow intelligence...
The confusion and bewilderment
That I'm still single, after all these years,
Because I refuse to play
Into those dating modes
That "everyone" claims to hate...
And I wax on and on,
Building another text wall,
And I leave the phone off
Because who **really** wants a 2 a.m. call?

"My mind is a dangerous neighborhood" -
A saying that I've often heard,
Sitting in various AA settings...
True, my mind thinks that getting more
Will just increase my pleasures,
Without regard to the havoc
Set upon my poor over-loaded organs -
Or so much, much more time,
Chasing after that fleeting, ever-fleeting high,
Instead of gritting my teeth
And facing all the fears of mine...
Oh, but the danger is a bit more insidious,
Because...
My Brain..?
...it's not satisfied with same, old, same...
It wants continuous affection,
It wants an ego-stroking spotlight
Of epic proportions!
It scoffs and guffaws at the pale painting
Of an ordinary, sunny day
Working in an ordinary brick and mortar,
At an ordinary 9-5 grind of a job...
Remember - my mind wants to be entertained,
And it will go to insane lengths,
Just to lose touch with my reality.
An aside...
"i wonder if they knew,
Back in middle school G/T,
The chaos that would ensue
By having me brainstorm every little thing?"
...and that is how this beleagured brain
Tries to shake off responsibility
And cast far and wide,
All sorts of others to blame.

Thoughts on income, careers, jobs, and gigs...
I recently heard that we are moving into a gig-based economy, in the sense that people are getting paid for completing a series of short projects.
In the tech industry, this would be akin to developing a computer program that fulfills one need, then moving on to complete a different computer program for a second set of possibly wildly different needs, and so on. You could also be a festival rat, volunteering at multiple festivals throughout the year, with each one only lasting up to a week. There's also the Favor/Uber model, where you are paid by delivering x, and only paid by the delivery, not by the time that you're on the clock.. or even commission sales..?
So, there's this sense that a job is not a continuous activity, but rather a series of short activities with various lengths of down time between them. The employer model then turns into "we will only pay you when your skills are needed", and you then become responsible for budgeting your money to last through the periods of down time.
Now, some jobs still require a more continuous type of activity. K-12 teachers are basically asked to watch over children while we work, emergency services are paid to protect life and property, people have to gather and prepare food, and some folks are asked to watch over the stores where stuff is sold. Yes, I know that this is a gross over-simplification. I also realize that even these jobs are not asked of individuals 24/7/365...
We could also look at how expertise influences income and careers. Basically, if you can find a niche in the economy that's not easily filled by anyone else - like being a brain surgeon, or being a computer programmer in the 80's and 90's, - then you hopefully have secured a demand for your skills, and will be paid well for it.
Usually, it is not the same person paying you for the rest of your life, but rather great multitudes that come to you for your great knowledge. Since there are so few brain surgeons, parents push their children to become brain surgeons so as to secure a non-competitive income. Except... it's really difficult to become a brain surgeon, and that's probably why there's so few of them to begin with. (Not so much, anymore, with computer programming - and, ironically, we are reaching the point where computers can be taught to be brain surgeons)
An often overlooked part of the ecological niche idea is that skilled trades are just as well paid, but usually not as difficult to acquire. They usually have less appeal, though, due to the physical demands of their work, or health risks? (Like carpenters and mechanics and policemen and garbagemen and...) It's possible they are paid slightly less, because there are more people working in that trade? Although I would think this would be like forgetting about the nurses when you're talking about the brain surgeons, while simultaneously forgetting about the master carpenters while talking about their apprentices.
So... recap. Most jobs are really paying by the gig, and careers with more specialized skill sets reduce their workforce and thereby increase the number of people each specialist needs to serve.
Now, there are other ways of making money that often are not talked about. One that immediately comes to mind is property - we can rent or sale the "things we own" like land or tools, and thereby earn money through those things instead of through our individual person's presence.
I'm thinking another income stream comes through insurance and interest ideas. We pay part of a cost of something that may or may not happen, over a length of time; to defray the cost should it actually happen (insurance) - so the insurance agent actually has use of a pool of money until said event happens. Or... we can not pay all of the costs up front, so we pay a little extra to a lending institution in order to better secure their trust that we will pay everything after an extended time (interest)
However, who is it that really determines the intrinsic value of a good or service? (Well, I guess that treads into economics) Why is it that Uber and Lyft can jack up prices during high traffic periods (fixed supply but increased demand, right?) ? Why is that a cashier with 10 years of experience could demand more wages than an entry-level one (supposedly, because they have less need for training)? Why is it that rent in a metropolitan area is higher than that in a rural one (less goods and services available in the latter?)?
I'm probably drifting, now...
The thought that got me wondering about all this;
"Is my skill set limited, and no longer in demand?"

A good friend complained that I did not believe she was “being there for me”:
Note that there are various degrees of acquaintance, like:
- family of origin
- Family by marriage
- Significant other
- Best friends
- Work buddies
- Activity buddies
- Co-habitants
- Like-minded individuals
- Trustworthy individuals
- People with wealth and property
- Celebrities
- Disreputable folks
- Emotional vampires
So, i have different ideas about how to interact with people from different circles. Or, even, i May interact with a person differently when I’m working with them then when I’m at an activity with them. Now, Since some people can fall into multiple categories, friendship is not a linear scale, ranging from loved one to enemy.
I note that we have some ideas being sold to us by societal norms and media, saying that “true friends should act like _____” or “everyone should get married and have kids”. My complaint is that very few people live up to the cookie cutter molds that are trying to be sold, especially if you consider how they interact with **everyone** they encounter (and not just the people they favor). A common example is in families, where we have favorite childs, but also disowned relatives... Even though the media image wants a family to be fully functional, most families are a bit dysfunctional.
So, when I complain that I do not think people are being friendly enough with me, what I’m really complaining about is that people are pushing a media image of friendship, while not actually living it in our interactions. Yes, this is a broad generalization and I have seen various exceptions. And yes, I am quite guilty of not being the type of friend(s) that I want in my life.
At another level, for which I am partly responsible, when I consider all the types of acquaintances that I could maintain; I bemoan the fact that I am lacking some, like the family by marriage (or just the significant other)... I also try not to distrust anyone or shun anyone, yet there have been a handful of individuals who have done actions that justify that level of avoidance.
So, I am not saying that everyone has to be my significant other, behaving like the image of that, which we’re fed by various media. What I am saying is that I don’t have a significant other in my life - i don’t even feel like I have the Circle of Five for some circumstances. Like, I do not know who I could feel safe about asking for financial assistance, I do not have a good idea of who would be willing to help me move, I do not know who might be sexually attracted to me (or if it’s mutual), I do not know if anyone would serve as a caregiver... I can almost imagine one of those 20-question surveys that tries to scale a friendship or a Cosmo survey...
Although it’s distressing that I do not feel integrated into a strong community (and how much of that is based in my own fears, instead of reality?), “it’s not your job to take care of me”... (at least, that’s a takeaway from the “every man for himself” idea that we learn in capitalism, right?)
What concerns me, though, is that I’m probably not the only person who’s felt more and more isolated, as he’s aged through the stages of life. Also, without any community, how are people going to start treating each other? Without the love and respect built through community building, what are the chances that people will turn to crime, abuse, and violence? Or... scaling down... to dismissing each other, or cultivating stranger danger?
Yet, many would rather live in the fantastical stories touted by the media, instead of taking the time to honestly try to connect with their neighbors. When we make our neighbors invisible, then it’s easier for those neighbors to live counter to our ideals... or for us to paint them as doing so...
Another long text wall. Yay.
(There’s probably a whole other spinoff about taking care with the words I use, especially being much more specific instead of broad generalizations... but, these are not hard facts, just starting hypotheses)

"Do you wish to rise? Begin by descending. You plan a tower that will pierce the clouds? Lay first the foundation of humility." - Saint Augustine

So, I went to HEB today, hoping to use my new Capital Metro Reduced Fare card on a new weekly pass; because that would cover my bus needs until I get paid again...
They do not sale the reduced fare weekly pass at HEB.
I can not afford the reduced fare monthly pass, right now. (It’s been an impoverished winter school break)
This put a damper on my day...

I’m not sure if I’ll be fasting, today.
I had half a bag of a popcorn and nuts mix at work, and 2 slices of ham. I took a can of Progresso split pea soup there, too; but did not set aside the time to make it - or even a heat in the pouch bean mix...
I’m going home to a sparse pantry, and a couple of leftovers in the fridge... yet I’m afraid to make any of that, because I do not know when I will be able to replace it.
There’s no money in my bank account, and no active credit cards in my name...
Oh, but I do have 10 $10 gift cards to Alamo Drafthouse, and 2 movie passes left; due to my volunteer efforts with Fantastic Fest, last fall.
I’m not sure if I could sleep well, on an empty stomach, though.
I’ll probably just eat the fridge leftovers, and be faced with this same type of ruminating, over the days to come. .*Le Sigh*.

"Tis a wonderful moment,
To be alive, and in communion;
To be safe and secure,
Knowing that Death works with another
While Dream is crafting, in real-time, memory's mother..."
When the eggs are fluffy,
And the nopales juicy,
And the coffee stays full...
The sun need not break the horizon, too.
When animals approach you
With wonder and enthusiasm...
Knowing you would not torment them so.
Alas, 'tis also a pity
That the phone, and the TV
And all the electronic world
Throw up so many distractions,
So many people, prancing in pretense -
(Like this very poem, perhaps?) _
All that in their brittle attempts
To be noticed
Before their brief candle gets snuffed out...
"Out, Out, Damn Spot!"
That I would not measure up,
That I was not worth some false achievement!
The stain of the judgements
Eats at the fabric of my soul...
And all the distractions
And all the king's decrees
Would cloud my mind
And make me forget the joy of being me!
Oh, there are duties to fulfill
And so many terrible bills,
And they all steal that gleam in my eye,
By making me hate the struggle,
And despise the endless trudge,
Day after day, looking only to die.
When I fall into that trap,
When I live another's picture of life,
Everything becomes grey and flat
And my mind fills up so much strife;
And I cry out, Out
In the dead of night!
Ah, to return to safety and security,
To try, as well as I may,
To communicate, to share,
To craft all my world with what I would say -
And hope, ever so much, that you will not try to affect me
So as to be trapped, like some Dorian Gray,
In your picture of life:
"For it may suit you fine,
But it does not give me peace of mind."

When the wind cries "Bloody Mary"!
Beating upon my window panes
With a primordial rage,
And twisting tree tops about,
Like tangled marionettes on a carnival stage..
Oh, how the wolves are born
By the gusts and swooshing walls..
is this vogon poetry?
The air is attacking,
Aloft upon a vorpal sword -
A brief respite,
From its voracious snicker-snack...
A deep doubt
As to safe travels, today...

# Nurture Gratitude for Our Presents

I'm fairly exhausted, and I have yet to prepare dinner. The stuff I have available for dinner is a mixed bag of things from friends' charity and food banks, and does not seem super appealing. Yet, ordering out is not an option, because money has been tight with the school's winter back (and corresponding lack of tutoring hours).
I think I will lie down for a bit, and hope that recharges me enough to make some sort of dinner later.
#CultivateGratitudeForWhatYouHave - there... let's try to get this hashtag viral, eh?
______________________

#CultivateGratitudeForWhatYouHave could also be taken as a command to others, as well as myself... (Stop focusing on the deficiencies, and be grateful for your life, as it is)
however, maybe it could be we instead of you - trying to build community and move away from a self-centered or blame-centered phrasing...
although I like cultivate, it does add a bit of extra typing...
could we revise this to
#GrowGratitudeForWhatWeHave ? Would that work better?
Perhaps
#NurtureGratitudeForWhatWeHave ..?
Or... instead of the possessive Have, it could be Own, pointing to a sense of acceptance, too? ...maybe something else... Our Gifts?
#NurtureGratitudeForOurPresents (because there's a touch of homonymic double meaning, with Presents rhyming with Presence)

______________________

Even though I am adept at mathematics, there is still much joy and wonder to be found in others' proofs and methods. When I'm typing, I can be rather poetic, or so some claim. I'm proud to call most of the people I interact with my friends, and I'm glad Texas still holds on to being the Friendly State.
I do not need a lot of material things, nor do I need to be overflowing with pop culture and other information - for this can better help me to be amazed when someone else tells their stories.
(perhaps more in a later post - I need not put up a text wall with every writing)
#NurtureGratitudeForOurPresents

what are the financial stressors
that have me so upset?
a payday loan coming due,
on a zero dollar payday,
because there was no work
during the school's long winter break.
food stamps denied,
on a 3 months in 3 years rule -
saying i must work 20 hours or more,
and I have to claim 19 or less at work.
it was an unexpected loss of funding,
after being off and on food stamps for 10 years
medical insurance?
costing a pretty penny,
and left unattended -
now, it's suspended...
and i'm back on charity health care -
much more of a hassle than private practice.
rent, looming in the distance -
trying to get it together...
but that semester break created delays
besides - government help is delayed, too.
a bus pass, a phone bill -
and that make up my Spartan budget?
Oh, there's medical debt,
credit cards unpaid, too,
and student loans slung about my neck
like some stinky albatross.
It feels like expenses have been shaved down
To where the bone marrow of my budget is exposed,
And I'm fainting at the loss of blood,
And I'm fearful that I've lost any good life.
Another tangled treatise
Could ask, "why not, two jobs?"
"Why stay stuck in part-time tutoring?"
I'm feeling weary, though
So, I might try to tackle that,
When, next I wake at 3 a.m.

I write on Facebook,
Because I want to believe
That someone other than me
Is at least reading these words...
I write, instead of video,
because I want some measure of editorial control...
because my speaking persona is pretty monotone...
because I do not want to try to get fancy?
I do not know, I just hazard guesses
And make excuses
And hope the fallout is not too severe:
"Would be better to write the thoughts,
Instead of acting out on them?"
I want some amount of feedback,
Yet I do not want to be lectured,
Or denigrated and dragged through a wringer...
True story? Back in the 90's,
I hoped for something like social media -
Some means of telling a story once,
And being confidant that most everyone had heard it..
I contrast this with hearing my mom
Tell a holiday story seven times over three days,
With each telling gaining a flourish.
I do not want to recite the same example
Over and over again, like the Pledge of Allegiance -
But instead, a testament to "working X Step"...
Some could make the case
That my "sensitive words" can come back to harm me.
Some could also argue
That the lack of body language and intonation
Can make these phrases backfire horrifically.
Perhaps I am too naive - or gullible,
Too trusting that others will not
Wield what I said against me....
Yet, I try not to single others out,
Not to gossip on celebrities and politicians,
Or even just spoil movies.
Others' lives are others' affairs,
And, at best, I could only give you
My glimpse of how they appear.
Yay. a big old text wall.
a first draft, thrown up,
because i'm now restless at 2 a.m.
after a 3 hour nap.
this is the hedging prologue,
I hope to write something meatier, next

A collection of my paranoias:
- it’s cancer, and it’s spreading
- I have exhausted all help from friends and family
- nobody needs or wants my skill set or my input, and therefor, me
- my creditors, both formal and informal, are destroying my reputation
- Facebook is a dead platform, and should not be used to covey anything important
Noted that these are paranoias, and not well-grounded in reality. There could be nuances, and each could be examined to see if it has any truth. Still, they sadden me, and make me fearful of a future full of pain and suffering.
Also, how much much have I, by bad actions or bad inactions, let these fester and grow? By commenting sharply, by not trying to set up interactions, by distracting myself with trivial pursuits...
It’s a little scream, in the middle of the afternoon, a rage that stays unaddressed...? Just babbling now. Just trying to be busy, in the dead of registration - because I do easily faint/nod-off if I’m not active.

A part of me wants to wither up and die,
Every time I am exhalted and praised...
It does not matter if I can write so well,
If that writing is not able to pay my rent.
It does not matter if I have a great personality
To the creditors who expected to be paid -
Perhaps with the weight of their sanctions.
It does not matter if I have a multitude of directions,
When I can not get out of bed, in my fits of anxiety.
I am well aware that I have some great skills,
Perhaps some interesting abilities...
I still fall through the cracks, broken and discarded,
Because I do not exactly fit that role,
That extroverted, talkative, alpha male
Bullshit that everyone wants me to be.
"I am terrified of the spotlight, don't you see?"
So, I wither and I die,
A little bit more, each day.
I hope for past help, once promised,
And, instead, I have to weather
All your kind, yet cruel, things that you say.
I realize that these are my many walls, put up,
Amidst so much smoke and mirrors,
Some feeble attempt to scream away the advice...
Yet, still... I've withered and died.

I do not want to call out. I'm afraid of the disruptions it will cause.

I’m Uncertain how to spend this afternoon. Torn between Austin Clubhouse and AA... maybe both...? Or I could go to Texas Workforce Commission, instead..?
Just feels like I’m spinning my wheels, though; trying to make activity when before I had expected to work (ACC budget concerns have reduced their reg support hours).
“Yes, Dad, life would be easier with a car...”
—————
(...and sneaking in the background: “I could jump off the 38th Street overpass, into I-35 lower deck traffic...”. My mind wants to kill me, to avoid dealing with my life...)
I want to try to be positive and create changes... yet I’m so worn down by the weight of my past failures.
—————
Off to the clubhouse. Hoping there’s some good produce...

I was at the bus stop this morning, when the thought came back to me:
"If I lie down, under a stopped car, in front of their back tire..."
I noticed a particularly large tire on the school bus, and wondered if his rear view mirror would catch the action, before the light turned green.
I did not do it, as I am typing this, now; yet the thought was pretty powerful, and it's not the first time that it has occurred to me.
Yes, my finances are still in the toilet. No, I do not appear to be making good progress towards getting a second job. Moreover, I am sick and tired... I am wore out... I am self-deprecating... because I feel such shame at not being able to get my income in order. Most of the time, I go to church or government services, to try to straighten this out, because I am absolutely terrified of asking friends for money.
I noticed a lot of "all or nothing thinking" or just plain distorted thinking, creeping into my mind, this morning (and above: "absolutely terrified")... Such greatest hits of thoughts like:
- I have nothing to live for
- Nobody cares about me
and - Nothing seems to be working...
If I can return to rational thinking, I can see the flaws in these thoughts. I can note the exceptions, where someone did reach out by text, or invite me to breakfast, or offer aid. Hell, there's been tons of aid offered by many of my friends, over the years. Part of me's afraid that, with some, I've reached this point of:
- "Haven't I helped you enough, Mr. Bean?" or
- "You're becoming too dependent on my help, and not on your own resources" or
- "I'm not a limitless supply of aid, and I have my own difficulties"
...which are all valid boundaries that I would like to respect (One of the reasons I'm terrified of asking for help - "my problems should not have to be your problems")
So, there's this level of defeat that's been sinking in, over the last year or two - the touch of Eeyore, too - which just thinks I should check myself in to a mental hospital; because my past 4 stays in those have been fairly pleasant. Or, perhaps run away to a monastery (Buddhist? Catholic? Either would work...) ...and the all or nothing quips in, "I doubt that anyone would miss me. I doubt my meager skills would be wanted. It would all be better, for all, to just disappear, because I already feel so terribly invisible..."
I do not know if there are easy solutions. I have lost much hope of being able to recover from my short-term setbacks, especially since they are stretched out over all my adult life.
So, I fight back the suicidal thoughts, and I recognize a Gordian Knot before me; and I wish that Occum's Razor would slice it neatly into Arianna's Thread...

"One-Eyed Myopia"

Not felled by a proud giant,
Or tricked by a clever dwarf;
Nor native protecting a home -
He was trapped in a frozen lake,
Covered over by drifts of snow,
Ankle twisted and caught in the undergrowth...

As he felt his leg go numb,
His blood becoming one with the ice,
He mused to Odin above,
"Yes, travels with a clan could prevent this...
But I had to take the Road Not Taken -
All for promises of wealths forsaken.

My big, clumsy words:
The butterfly nets that the flies and gnats mock.
The nuances lost, the hidden messages unseen?
If I go on, to great lengths...?
Queue Charlie Brown into school;
And place me as the mwah-mwah, mwah-mwah
Of his teacher's voice, never to be understood.
I quibbled over slopes, today,
The whole rise over run -
And the insistence that Mister X be independent...
Wanting to capture application and bigger pictures,
I questioned if basic algebra's routine
Obscured slope's constant growth -
And, for contrast, perhaps..?
I talked about exponential decay.
I'm reminded of a disabled veteran,
Who didn't want to know the how and why:
"Just give me the process, god damn it!"
Give me something that I do not know,
And I might be guilty of this
"Reduce it with Occum's Razor!"
Like relationships, for example -
No, like sex drives, to cut to the bone!
None of us has been given clear directions,
And we're all fumbling with competing affections...
So, if I become sexless to you,
Do I then become useless, too?
If you think there will be
No affection, no attention, no presence, no protection...
Have I then lost all utility to you?
Like it or not,
We are biological creatures.
Our bodies want long and fruitful lives -
maybe some progeny, too...
spinning, spinning, spinning...
my find is ruminating
over ruined relations,
over past loves' candles
that, now, are nothing but cold lumps of wax.
(and, the danger, of not naming names,
is that many might make themselves
targets of these blames...
To this, I say,
"Is there some partial truths, then,
If you can so easily cast yourself in those roles?")
What of my own part in the morass?
Aye, yes... I can be a bit of an ass.
I would rather saunter out on my own,
Then take the time to invite others in.
Frank Sinatra's "Very Good Year" -
Just came on, on my Spotify.
I shall break off from here, to share that, too...
For the milestones, you see...

An urge...
to be mingling with my fellows...
Since, alone..?
My mind plays with the gallows...
Is that technically right? Does that literally mean I think about jail, and not about old-school executions?
Whatever...
Is it like the phases of grief, where I know that I’ve lost some measure of my financial security... and yet, in denial, I want to spend flagrantly with friends, with a blind eye turned away from the forbidding future?
Or, is it more sinister, with little weighed upon cash in pocket and far more focus upon declining physical health. Has mortality reared its pale skull, and I cower in the company of others, trying to hide from an end perceived to be far too near?
If I could throw off this mortal coil without pain or suffering... if I could just leave while sleeping quietly...
Nothing ties me to the dust, but gravity. No promises beckon in my future. I am zero, null, and all the nonsense built out of those beginnings..?
I’m blabbering right now. I really do not care if I am making sense. My body aches and my mind wants to free and my soul wants to reach out to all of you, to forget for a moment about me.
Yet, I sent in a 10 by 10 room, in a jail of my own fashion, as Spotify plays Jazzy little tunes, and a long nap in my meager bed promises a better tomorrow.
I can only hope...

Yes, I could write about what's troubling me, right now; and yes, it would seem like more spin on the merry-go-round...
But, is Facebook even a live medium, any more? Does any of the stuff that we write here draw people into meaningful conversation? It's a strange communication, if you ask me... all likes and emoji..
So, I shall not write to great lengths about my troubles... because, a lot of it has been said before. I hope to survive until I can stabilized, I fear starvation, and I tremble at my physical health's deterioration. Riight now, I sleep, because that is terribly disrupted, too.

A flock of black grackles
All lined up along the wires...
What could they be talking about?
Did Doug have it right -
That all bird song is weather reports,
Such as wind speed and dark clouds approaching?
Or, is this some grand opera,
With a cast of thousands,
Reciting Bird-hoven's famous 9th Chirpony?
Perhaps they are conspiring as to which foul cloud
They will herd into our fair city,
With the gentle beats of a thousand outstretched wings.

How many setbacks does it take
For my mind to scream in a break...
"Down the deadly rabbit hole -
Chasing lost time? Or my tattered soul?"
Thinking, "I've got this... I've been here before..."
Not realizing how delaying has closed another door.
If saving money is akin to holding water,
Then is saving time noting breaths? "High art, there..."
now i'm trapped in structure,
and likely to waste far more time for strange turns of phrase..
such is my dilemma, as i'm distracted all hours of the days.

i'm afraid of my lack of income, this month - not sure if it will cover my rent alone (let alone all the other bills). part of it is because ACC had it's winter break, and I did not get to work for those 2 weeks. part of it is because i am not good at budgeting my money when it gets this tight.
i tried to get started on a couple of jobs in grocery stores, to go hand-in-hand with my tutoring job. i'm relying on my experience with randall's to help me secure those. i'm also trying to get some job with AISD, but I'm very confused by what documents they want...
However, I get pulled this way and that, by non-work commitments; and I do not know what support i can get from government agencies, and....
it all feels like a clusterfuck of epic proportions
Normal people can weather the storm, and focus on their task, and land a good job after getting a degree. Or, at least, that's what I've been led to believe.
Me? I take 14 years to complete a bachelor's degree. I consistently lose jobs because me anxiety tricks me into taking too much time off, because I do not believe that I can do some part of the job (with the biggest one being showing up on time). I have a hair trigger type of reaction, where a mania or depression can knock me down with very little warning signs that they are coming.
Yeah. whining. self-pity. negative thoughts. wall-building. excuses. "Yes, I can see that there are elements of all of these, here."
Yes, I can see that by writing long meandering notes is pretty fucking passive-aggressive and non-committal.
We do not have the luxury of a face-to-face interaction, right now. You have your own inflections, and your own ways of reading all of this, which (perhaps..?) projects some of your past experiences into it. That might make you eager to chime in your ways that you solved (problem x)... "Just keep in mind, that I will skeptically take it with a grain of salt, and I might dissect/attack your proposed solutions - mostly because I distrust that they are 100% applicable.
"That felt like a soapbox"
I want an influx of money. I would prefer if it was earned quickly and respectfully.
I only half-want a second job, because I fear the time management impacts that come with it.
(In an ideal world, I wish employers did not feel like they could only employ most of their people less than half-time, in order to save the employers money on benefits. No... Actually, I wish more employers valued their employees enough that the employers would feel honored to provide benefits beyond base wages.) (a whole other soap box, though)
I wish that I could see the value that I bring to others much better, even if they do not talk about it, much. I also wish I could better see the defects that others perceive in me, especially those defects that keep them away.
The difference between rehearsal and improvisation? With rehearsal (or journaling or inventory) - we find efficient ways to express ourselves (we have our conversation planned out)... With improvisation, we might uncover (a la DMDR) thoughts and feelings that we are not aware of. (a theory, mind you)
Some people love to tell the same stories, over and over again. They love to hammer their resentments into deadly weapons. While others would constantly act on the fly, thinking they save time, by improv, instead of making plans that never come to fruition. It could be a binary scale, or it could be more of a spectrum... (a diffierent soap box.. just wondering if people want the familiar or the suprising.)

I have some physical aches and pains today... and I'm reminded of some song in my Spotify talking of tooth decay.