Dream Dark Stories

Tag: thoughts

  • Day Sixty-Three, March 3rd, 2024

    Hi ho and hello.

    Ever have those days where you could swear you smell like s*** and you likely have crap running down your leg or remaining from a bad bathroom moment earlier that morning?

    I did that today. I grabbed my dogs this morning, a little later than I intended, because well I was being lazy and then the smaller one started barking more incessantly than usual, finally I got my cranky ass up, grabbed em, took them outside and got them fed. And I could have swore that somehow at some moment throughout the morning I had crappe myself and forgot. I had gone all day sniffing the air like a psycho thinking that there was just immediate s*** directly in front of me beside me underneath me above me somewhere had to be f****** somewhere.

    Turns out the smaller pup got a tummy ache ended up kind of losing his bowels and I apparently just didn’t catch the smell or even the muck on his bed before picking him up and taking him outside. So that got on my finger, I put my hand and my pocket smearing said s*** down into my jean pocket and on to my jeans.

    So I had not shot myself, but I did put s*** on myself, completely unaware of doing so but that’s where the snow is coming from and somehow I just completely missed it I don’t know how because my jeans are blue and s*** is you know well it’s the color of s***. Sorry for cussing so much in this one it was dealing with a circumstance that kind of called for it right?

    So that pretty much sums up my day. I had s*** on me all day and didn’t know. Pretty much grasps the daily muckery of the chaos that happens we tend to overlook I guess. But I do hope that my submission for school comes with an A and that my submission for lit up tomorrow morning comes with good news.

    C’est la vie

    Good night and good morning, have a glorious good morning and darling good night.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Sixty-One, March 1st, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    Happy day, happy day.

    March 1st, beginning of the coming spring due the 19th this month and I’m more than elated, you?

    Now, mind you I’m not big on the heat, as it leaves me drained more than often, but to finally be able to wear a shirt and jeans without the needed layers for warmth, is a much appreciated change. Which to begin with my original post was going to have details about flip flops, sandals, and bullying, to which, I have no idea what the f*** I was trying to talk about nor do I remember.

    But that’s life isn’t it? A matter of memory, remembering, thought, intention, meaning, and the duration of how the meaning impacts or affects you, me, life, and everything around us.

    But are you the type of person that believes in this theory? In the theory that we are in fact each tied to one another, everything, and all things?

    It doesn’t make me vegan or what have you, but I feel it’s a good way of living, kind of like the Jimi Hendrix line about “Music being a safe kind of high.”

    I feel if we each take time to recognize that we are so much more alike than we care to admit, that we’re connected to so many other varieties of life, birds, pets, water, the plants, even the inanimate, would you feel less alone? Will the prospects of sensations that circumnavigate through loneliness, well, would they be non-existent?

    I digress, family focus and building up some techniques with my son and Lobo, I hope you all have a wonderful Friday had a wonderful Friday and hope my Saturday post makes it in time that it’s actually dropping on Saturday on like today which is a Saturday drop for Friday well now I just feel like the Willy Wonka guy with the 2 I can’t just do 2. Hahaha, if only you could be in my head to connect the tether to the connection to the Wonka to the thought to the now. Trust me I know it’s convoluted in more than confusing. So is life right?

    C’est la vie.

    May you all have a blessed good night and wonderful good morning and those of you waking may it be a blessed morning with a wonderful night’s rest to come.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Sixty, February 29th, 2024

    Hello and Hi-ho

    I’ve been feeling guilty for my friend and the memoir. Given he’s writing and I’m editing, I feel that there’s an expectation to hat it’d be whipped up and finalized sooner. However this is merely my own fear, given we’ve shared many a discussion of life and the pursuit and an understanding it may take time, more time than expected. So why the guilt?

    I think of Neil Gaiman’s ‘View From the Cheap Seats’ an autobiographical that covers life and growing, writing and love, comics and being a husband, parent, and the tribulations that transpire throughout. But, I’m here to discuss Harlan Ellison, his soapbox, and the project he went on to show and demystify the idea of what it is to be a writer. Ellison would go from bookstore to bookstore at numerous locations throughout the U.S. to show the practice, the duration of idea to finger to paper, to being posted on the glass windows at whichever spot he’d be at and voila. 100 short stories later and I think, this should be like that right? 100 short stories, a little over a year of our project and I’ve made just a slight dent to the whole of what’s wanted for this memoir. But then in truth, there are long durations where Ellison admits, he’d wander, whether it was in mind or body, he’d putz about pondering the next page, next chapter, that next step. Gaiman does, King, well I don’t know, he whips them out like I eat, but I feel even he’d drift in thought, pause for a moment, maybe a day and get back to it. But that’s what it is to be writing. Thought, planning, silent and invisible outlines draped across our eyes, while we take a scalpel to it and partition, splice, and rearrange what is wanted.

    My days start with thought, planning, and almost immediately an editing to the steps I take, the writing I did the might before, what I’m doing, and what is planned to be done. What’s nearly comical, is that the more I find myself with less to do, I do more.

    I’ve found myself with two silent weeks of no Discussion Questions or subject readings for school, two minute projects, and all the time in the world to edit memoirs, paint, write for DreamDarkStories, and be a dad and husband.

    In some areas I have more success than others. Guess it turns out like that sometimes. Anyhow to those who read and if keeping track some of my stuff is dropped a little late sometimes too late so I’m going to try to drop this just a little after midnight from the last day of February.

    C’est la vie

    May you all have a wonderful night and a wonderful most glorious morning, and for those of you who are seeing the morning may it be peaceful and may the night that come be just as gentle.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Fifty-Nine, February 28th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    Ever have those days where you just don’t get it? You don’t get why there’s anger, you hear an explanation, you get the slew of angry banter and utter “I don’t know”. Sometimes it just comes off like something inflamed, torched, and you do everything you can to understand why this one little thing, seemingly innocuous, unintended, and an inquiry? Why? And then I find myself thinking to myself is it the anger that I see? Is that a varied expression of love itself? Am I crazy? Or, is it genuinely that there’s so much frustration due to the hopes and wanting for expectations that it doesn’t fit the cut? And of course you may think I’m asking this question to you, and maybe I am, but I feel like I’m asking this to anybody and everybody. Why do we expect everyone to flow and work the way we want it to work why do we get so damn irritated at people when it doesn’t go the way we assumed or had hoped it was going to be?

    I dig. I dig away at the layers, uncover the bones, the tattered rags of years long lost, I dig. I question you, question me, I can’t decide which is and isn’t. Ne’er a worry, I dig. I dig at the sludge, dig at the heart, the levels from skin to bone, I dig. A darkness holds me close, I dig, my heart begins to bleed and the layers become revealing, the levels unraveling, I dig, callous and wounds, life and difference, I dig. I dig. I dig. Ne’er a stop, I dig, ne’er a thought, hands pounding raw and I dig. Incapable of stopping, a need, a call, a compelling to dig, dig, dig. My heart races, it pounds, it thunders to my ears with cacophonic atrocities as I dig, sigh, sweat my tears, and dig.

    When is too much too much?

    I’m out for the night/day, I’m tired and need a reset.

    C’est la vie

    Good morning and good night, good night and good morning.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Fifty-Eight, February 27th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello,

    Ever remember an uncle, dad step dad I don’t know, maybe a grandfather even holding a straw and asking you to flick it with your thumb. And of course mind you that straw isn’t just a standing single straw it’s tightly twisted over and over from both end points until there is that massive pocket of air in the tube with no release from either end. And then you have that uncle, father, Grandpa or maybe an auntie who thought it was fun holding it at your face telling you to flick it as hard as you can. Do you remember that?

    And they would be there crouching down at your face, hands holding this precariously dealt with straw, and if you’re like me, you’re looking at them with this “what the f*** am I supposed to do?” face.

    Sorry Dad, grandpa, uncle, likely uncles plural on that one. There were so many times where looking at this odd straw object seeing their faces of giddy and reveling expectation for the loudest onomatopoeia available without using technology, this apparently was too much to bear.

    And sadly to my dismay and apparently my weak ass freaking fingernails, that mother f****** straw never f****** snapped, my dad would wrap up another straw pointed at another brother a cousin or an uncle next to me whether it was a picnic or family gathering and POW. Apparently I was not capable of making such astounding cacophony of sound for those very slight moments of Life Time.

    I don’t know why but there’s a space between the sense I have, those around me, what I think they might think, and the actual reality. It leaves me thinking I’m a fool, or behind, missing the joke. Maybe I am, sometimes I miss what’s right there, maybe it’s due to being bored, tired, or both. But honestly I just kind of like watching life work. And yeah there will be an underlying note of humor or a silver lining of revelations that no one but me and whoever is watching the thoughts within get it but again it’s something personal. It ends up being something that I find funny whether it’s about the humor of one thing connected to another, the dichotomy of b******* and other nonsense, I just like observing apparently and when expected to react I’ve found that I either give the “I don’t know” as I like to state in my journaling, or I panic and sometimes, especially at a younger stupid age, my panicking would become more idiocy fueled.

    Anyhow the day has been long, disappointing, and I question whether what I say is me feeding myself a line. Or like dreams, it’s my way of reigning in the chaos. That’s why I close with the Latin each journal, it means “know thy self“. This is me trying to figure that out.

    C’est la vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Fifty-Seven, February 26th, 2024

    Riddle me this: If one that does what they deem right, is considered wrong by the other, and thus who is told that similar would be just as bad if not worse than what’s considered good by the one, is the seconds choosing based on guilt, control, or fear?

    Sorry for the tirade of questionable phrasing and wordage to the riddle. Lately I’ve been addressed to some errors, an overwhelmingly large sum of errors. These are due to memory, cognitive relevance, and training, we all know how training is right?

    Throw you into the pot, expecting you to boil and come out buttery and fresh. At least that’s how it comes off. Maybe that’s out of line, or maybe shoddy training and rapid lesson techniques are meant for a specific type? Again I have no clue and gosh, I’d like to know.

    Maybe I am a damn fool, maybe this job just isn’t for me, I don’t know. I really wish I knew, and though I know some of the steps are very clear others I get confused, I get lost, every state has different rules that come with different routes, so maintaining with the status quo of what work is as of late, I’m really wishing I could just paint right and do school. God if I can just do those things. Of course being a husband and a parent come first and foremost outside of the typical routine it’s what I would like.

    Anyhow to those of you who have been following the journal entries, I got the 150/150. Pretty cheesed if I may say and I would love the content and feedback as not only does the subject lightly grace circumstances I’m dealing with, but profoundly addresses situations for my family as it is my grandfather has Parkinson’s, grandma had MS too. But this discover that the gold nano crystalization and what it can bring not only is it going to benefit the two papers that I have to write using my radio report, it also brings the excitement, like editing and writing for my friend doing the memoirs it’s exciting I like doing the writing when the excitement is there, and sadly there are certain subjects where it’s a No-No. We’ll see how projects for week Seven and Eight will turn out. Trying to get that GPA back up. Fingers crossed.

    Anyhow Signing out for the night, may you have a great one.

    C’est la vie

    Goodnight and Good morning, good morning and Goodnight.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Fifty-Six, February 25, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    You know it’s a salute to Vonnegut, my introduction that is. I find it funny cuz my favorite writer even still is Bradbury, but there was a fine separation between the near crass and very personable Vonnegut and the gentle metaphorically phrased daggers that stand precariously through a work of Bradbury’s. They’re each a savior in themselves and the words that met my eyes, my heart, but so it goes.

    There. That. It’s right there, leaking from my words direct to his, Vonnegut’s. And maybe that’s it, it’s natural and when in my lonely teen times Vonnegut was met like a buddy, he was funny, sharp, deeply resolute and always opinionated, regardless of the odd 40+ year difference it still held a relevance. And even still the older I become.

    It’s Sunday, I’m nearing the last couple hours before I absolutely need this News report to be done and I’m sweating it. 150 points if I can pull it off. But I stutter like a twittering flutter butterfly, cough over my words like a jumping gazelle and trip over the inflections intended for a riveting piece. I don’t know. Maybe today, script written, practiced I’ll pull it off, it’s the big long form essay though that I’m more than choking about. We’ll see. I’ll see.

    Time, time, and more time. If only there could be more, or less call to being where I’m wanted and where I’m wanted, the balance between the two, a precious balance that can be destroyed with the slightest wrong push this way or that way.

    My mind’s fluttering with the prospect of failure the hopes of success, the knowledge of 150 points that I need to make sure I get that 150. Wish me luck if you would I’ll let you know what the grade is Monday morning or Tuesday Monday night I don’t know.

    C’est la vie

    May you have a splendid and wonderful good night, may your coming morning be graceful, peaceful, and quiet. And for those of you waking up may you have a wonderful day to come, and may the night swiftly, gracefully sweep you to a restful night’s sleep.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Fifty-Five, February 24th, 2024

    It’s the end of my last course, for a moment. Tomorrow, Sunday, will be the last day of school till the 18th of March. I hadn’t noticed until earlier this afternoon. Oddly, the excitement I thought would be there, well, it isn’t.  I enjoy the routines and the planned flow of work set and lined to the end. I don’t know, maybe I need it. Perhaps I could take the opportunity, depending on other circumstances, to make possible my writing, the art, and drop Stuck Pt. 2. Maybe make the IG account a business one too. It’s not like I use it except to drop art.

    It’s a thought, it usually is anyway, but then I let myself and the worries within grab hold and I freeze. I may maintain a motion, especially if it’s a normal routine I carry on through a weekday, like dinner, the dogs, dishes, laundry, but what’s in my mind is usually my worst enemy. The inkling of trouble, the small notion of negative tones, a sulking mannerism seen and I’m reeling. Especially within because the chances, the options, and the prospects, are so much darker, bleak, and vile.

    The imagination, though I appreciate it, I fear the eagerness at times that catapults my heart and mind throwing them in an emerald tornado of fret and worry that takes so long to trod through.

    Til tomorrow, Monday morning late Sunday night, who knows.

    C’est la vie

    Good night and Good morning, good morning and good night.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Fifty-Four, February 23rd, 2024

    Hi-ho and Hello.

    Boy oh boy what a day, what a week, and what a realization in what it means to be disabled, considered sick and the fine tether to being able to work or not work, and how the wording just right or wrong will throw a wrench into a cohesive and acceptable access to what is needed.

    I got to see the underbelly of this with my HR crew for work and my PCP (primary care physician),

    It’s been tedious and exhausting assuring the relevance to my sh** and HR.

    I digress, I’m tired, swamped with line litigation and planning,  discussing a discovery in using good nanoparticles to better PD patients and people like me with MS.

    I’m going to rest and will share more over the next day or two I manage it.

    C’est la vie

    Good night and Good morning, Good morning and Good night.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Fifty-Two, February 21st, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello

    I hope your day is going splendid.

    So life am I right? In the past I’ve definitely and likely have mentioned that multiple sclerosis is a pain in the ass, that it’s something that has been making most aspects of my life more annoying, a tad difficult, and time-consuming. A lot more time consuming than I thought given that there needs to be an accountability applied to everything and anything, anything I do. Absolutely encourage accountability, I often talk about that, but it really sucks when the MS is flaring up, I forget, I’m just kind of off, and I do things that are weird.

    And when I say weird, I mean PlayStation controller in the freezer, underwear in the cubby next to my paints, my painting stuff everywhere, I have an art studio. And I still maintain having everything of Art everywhere else but the art studio in my office. It’s ridiculous and it’s nonsensical, and it’s tiring.

    So yeah I have that on the up and up, love that wonderful mountain to deal with every flipping day but now I’m having a new issue, and I knew it would come eventually, just didn’t think it’d be two months after my first infusion.

    My legs aren’t wanting to work the right way my hips don’t want to rotate or gyrate, and it’s making movement painful, making movement quirky, and definitely adding to a worry that I was really hoping would be squashed by now. The thing is when certain things evolve with MS, sometimes you don’t find the issue until it’s later therefore, likely too late to really, truly, get in front of it. I’m hoping the 22nd, bring something a little better. I plan on getting part 2, the rough draft for stuck part 2 finished up by Thursday night. And hopefully I’ll be able to drop that and some more art by the weekend depending on editing. I do still have John’s Memoirs that I’m editing as well. I’m going to go take a break and I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow have a good night.

    C’est la vie

    Have a wonderful good night and a beautiful morning and to those who are waking up I hope you have a blessed morning and a darling good night that tucks you in gently.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Fifty-One, February 20th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    The smacking of Lobo’s munching up Purina Dog Chow sends an unnerving shudder through my ears leading to a deep well of unwanted mastications seen or heard. The deep gulping of my oversized dog, though understood due to his size, has me yearning for headphones to blast away what’s coming next…more chewing, chomping, and gasping for air while he eats his bowls remains and Oreo’s small bowl on the side of his large paw. He looks up with the familiar dog smile, exhaling musty chicken crude protein scents that likely will dissipate in due time, but knowingly will irk my senses till I find a better reason to change jeans.

    The bowls are cleared quickly, they both trot out of the shed with an exuding of conquering what was tasked, and quickly get back to a raucous dog play that will likely tread against the fine line of dog love, familial rough play, and the occasional yelp to heed by either the Pyrenees or the shih-Tzu terrier.

    I watch, I write to you; the reader, and ponder the days to come, the Doc appointments, the tests, scans, and labs that will likely coincide and sigh heavily with repose. To breathe in deeply, hold, and let it out with a growl. It’s more of an internal kind of nonsense; that growl, but it wakes me up, reminds me of the path, the goal, and that finish line that never seems to be within reach.

    Not to cause fear or strike worry into your mind, but keep in thought, if you would that life is short, life can drift away at a whims notice, and with nearly a surprise, and like Seneca mentions it’s most brief for those who lack remembering our faults, are nowhere near being present with now, and have no thoughts of the coming future.

    My goal as I’ve stated before is to maintain my conscientiousness my being present, my accountability, and striving for making sure that I am the best of everything I can be everyday making sure that my steps are with indications to my goals and the future that I know I can have.

    I’m closing out for the night, talk to you guys tomorrow and I’ll drop my Wednesday piece in the morning.

    C’est la vie

    May you all have a wonderful night and wonderful morning and may you all have a wonderful good morning and that wonderful drifting peaceful night.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Forty-Eight, February 17th 2024

    Hello and Hi-ho

    Boy am I f***ing late with these posts the last couple or few days.

    Sometimes I guess it happens. I guess the draw of the day the monotony of the cleaning and the cooking and, the rest of the s*** that we know or needed additions but God do we detest them.

    And then I get to a point where yeah I just want to stare at the screen and watch this Cruel Summer show and try to figure out what the hell’s going on cuz I’m starting to support a bad guy but wait are they a bad person, is this a bad person?

    What is bad and what is it within the paradigms of the nonchalant religious background, ethical background, moral background, where do the paradigms stray off enough that a person can be bad and still be good?

    Im closing out tonight sorry I’ll talk to you guys Sunday I’m probably going to publish this Sunday actually I’ll do what I can to make sure that I publish the Sunday one Sunday, and we’ll be back on track and hopefully hopefully hopefully if I can get this project turned into night I’m going to make sure that I have at least part one of stuck which is kind of boring but hopefully with the painting that I shared and I’ll share a better one with a better background too.

    C’est la vie

    May any and all have a wonderful night and morning may you have a gorgeous good morning and a beautiful restful night.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Forty-Three, February 12th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello

    My nights are my favorite time of the day, do I do appreciate the mornings I appreciate the fresh air especially when it gets a little warmer in the morning the Sun comes and you can feel the dew in the late spring, but regardless of rain snow whatever the weather there’s something about the darkness that I find it easy to escape.

    It’s not that I’m trying to escape from the darkness it’s walking away from the stress, the worry, and the dull monotony that we get used to. It’s not that I call for drama, it’s the repetitive drum of the ringing that has me fleeing.

    I feel bored with the tasks that are brought to me within work. Outside of work, the callings are toward painting, to edit, to write, and to create. Even while I deal with the humdrum of work, my gloves are on pressing and prying clay, there’s a canvas and paints at my finger tips, editing these posts, and the memoirs. But…there comes another call. “Thank you for calling Arizona Urology, my name is blah…bleh…ble…bl.”

    I want to be here, be at the computer, my papers, books, those pens, post its, and highlighters, while not being watched by big brother or ‘the company’. Then the questions strike my head like lightning, and I ponder, how many paintings? How many posts? Drops? How many views do I accrue to make enough that I can leave ‘the company?’ saying “baby bye bye” while shrugging it off knowing I can do more, can do better, just not here.S

    Segway

    How many hours does one need to function? I’ve been up since 5:29a.m. this morning. I’m not wanting to go to bed, but there’s that knowing the haunting darkness of sleep, pounding at the door of your eyelids wishing for a darkness to settle down the night.

    Hahahaha wow, apparently I fell asleep writing this. Anyhow, the days become longer, my beard more gray, my patience thinning, and I’m on my way to tomorrow.

    C’est la vie

    Good morning good morning and good night, a glorious good night and good morning.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twenty-Nine, January 29th, 2024

    To anyone, everyone, or just one. Yes this is my soapbox and yes, this is where I talk. Sometimes it’s to myself sometimes it’s to the brother I know occasionally gets these, sometimes it’s to no one and just venting. I’m not a professor, I’m not a lecturer, and my intention is more or less to share the traveling of life’s findings or lessons that have either helped right the person I’ve become or the pieces that get shifted and pushed that I don’t like and or trying to change. Regardless yes, I’m on the soapbox and no it’s sadly not for justice,but for death or life or really anything because I don’t know.

    So I come with a question, Is it fate that we become what we do in everything we can to not be or is it being a fatalist that brings on the idea of avoiding all causal aspects that create this very fate anyway? Does it matter or is it just a gorgeous, beautifully drawn out tapestry that really, none of us have any idea about, none of us know where we’re going, and no matter how much we plan, we can’t see the future. Or is there a soothsayer around?

    I’m not here to be anything but myself. I’m here because I want to…talk, rant, rave and share my perspectives

    Sorry this is so damn late, I’m exhausted and getting some news

    Good night and good Morning, good morning and good night.

    Memento Mori

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twenty-Four, January 24th, 2024

    We’re told as students that it’s in us to write what we know, what we understand or understood one time or another.

    In high school, if you’re lucky, or terribly unlucky, philosophy becomes the course that has its own pedestal. Here we’re taught that the wise admit in being wise due to admitting a knowledge of little but consistently acquiring knowledge and aiming for learning what can be understood, to not know everything, but to know that it’s a collecting and using the knowledge to benefit not just the self but all others around. Right?

    So as of right now my journal entries, my posts, my published whatever these are, they’re my perceptions, they’re the way I look at the world and the way I perceive it as it gnaws and gestates the masses.

    I’ll also do everything I can to maintain a neutral balance but will never get into politics. I support peace, love, honor, respect, and truth.

    If ever you read this know that the way I look at the world is this. And no this isn’t some blase crap shoot where I don’t see anything but just people kind of line that you hear from somebody who is absolutely an atrocious person and are just trying to save their hide. I grew up in the church, and no not Catholic, but there has always been something that was taught regardless of my beliefs now, the teaching was this: we are all breathing the same air, we are all sharing the same world, it is on us to respect one another and it is up to us to treat one another the way we want to be treated. Simple as that, and I understand that it is not simple life is not simple, struggle is not simple. The chaos of the world and how we take that or how we change it truly depends on us.

    I truly believe that we’ve lost massive sight of just that simple, too simple of a way in viewing what it is around us. It’s hard not to get emotionally wrapped into it though because you see things developing and if you’re a reader these things developing immediately shoot fear throughout, because the daunting parallels to fiction and what is now reality unraveling, is more than horrifying and there are so many that are all for the chaos.

    All I can do is show as much light as I can and regardless of anything rise above that chaos and only show the betterment of myself and always with love. What I hope is that continued actions shining what I’m talking about, will rub on like stickers of light.

    So I said everything that I said throughout this entry, whether it’s knowledge whether it’s just a perception, I hope it is perceived as knowledge or at least a soft knowledge and just what can be okay and can be right but then we get on the semantics of right and wrong.

    And I’m tired.

    Goodnight and Good morning. Good morning and Goodnight.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Twenty-One, January 21st, 2024

    I hope your week and weekend was gracious while being pleasant.

    Ever have a song that you connect with? Or the communication from singer and group touch you somewhere deep and personally tied through a shared understanding?

    I found The Hics around two years ago and, if I was to say that was bad timing, it’d be an overly egregious lie. Ill get back to this…check songs Lines, Tell Me, and Float by The Hics

    Relationships on their meaning, friend to friend, brother to brother, sister, teacher workmate, what have you. There is a tenuous thread that seems more than fragile nearly like fine China, porcelain, or the more malleable but still fragile, Playdoh.

    Speaking of friendships, I have one and he’s 85 and the few I have had since last year, I found I had squandered some bridges and one’s big enough that I had to sever the ties to benefit the survivability of my own relationship with my wife. Which brings the other tests in holding a relationship, especially a marriage. This is more than fierce, more than fear-inducing and more tender and, or rapturous depending on circumstances then I’d ever imagine.

    As a younger man, being I proposed at 20, not knowing I would be graced with a child who has autism and is nonverbal, that I’d get diagnosed with MS seven years after, and that I was not at an appropriate and mature level for when I initially got married. It was a whirlwind of mind-blowing stupidity and aggression. Even still I loathe the young man I was, I’d beat the s#¥° out of him, but I’m here now. I’ve grown and I will continue to grow and learn from the mistakes I’ve made so as not to repeat them.

    Anyhow the music, the relationship, the coincidences. The Hics happened to pop up right around the time of our relationship starting to disintegrate, as it is, the dichotomy of our differences and what drives our purposes are… Just that they’re different. The lyrics and heavy tones beat at a tired heart and my pained ears but it’s the addressing of the natural aspects to the lyrics. The similarities and the incessant calls for a hopelessness but a yearning that it can be rectified throughout each song I’ve listened to of theirs. I still listen, still try and try to be the better man I want to show and…hugging the cactus is taking and draining like never before. January 22nd post will go into detail here more and more

    Good night good morning. Good morning good night thank you all for the support thank you all for continuing to come back.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Eighteen, January 18th, 2024

    Gremlins. Puck. Tricksters. Anansi. Spiders.

    You ever lose a shirt, socks (not just the one), keys, a remote, or a hoodie? All different in size, all near innocuous but mundanely needed. Those keys though, depending, are a need. They vanish, these items drift into a void that is neither here, there, or anywhere.

    Now, though I intend on using logical reasoning in why these disappearances happen, doesn’t mean my imagination isn’t lapping up the curious tendencies that bring on a blaming of gremlins, hobgoblins, and tricksters.

    And I glimpse into my past trying to nab at those serialized episodes of Bugs Bunny, the tenacious and ornery gremlin that caused so many anxious childish worries, then I lead into Shatner and his quivering alarm while the ghoulish gremlin tears at the plane mid-flight. Or Anansi and the talking melon, or the trickster Puck and his salacious quips that drove the Midsummers characters toward their detriment.

    Thing was I lost my keys, that’s why I drive this point, and it’s funny to think that though I mentioned there’s a logic that I tried to use, the characters that I’m referring to in the chaos of losing things when we know they’re not lost. Then having to address the I have MS and my cognitive short-term memory is shite, my ADHD is not much better, and it’s not like I’m going to leave a note for where I put my keys down because I usually put them in my pocket or a hoodie.

    Turns out my son had them, why? My assumption is he was trying to help and put things away, grabbed the hoodie with keys and didn’t notice or hear them drop between the couch and cushion. The fact though, it was something very real and something blatantly as a-matter-of-fact present. And I like to think that even though we know there’s the logical aspects and reality to the situation. Though there’s always a thought of that trickster, the gremlin, hobgoblin, and what have you, reality is quite literal when causality is in play.

    I wouldn’t mind Puck, maybe Anansi, just leave the tricks at home and bring the coffee is all I ask.

    C’est la vie.

    Good night, Good morning. Good morning and Good night.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Sixteen, January 16th, 2024

    Note: I had this waiting in drafts, thinking I already posted. Sorry.

    Good morning, Good afternoon, Good evening,

    Are you one for a joke? Or are you the nonsensical type. I was never one who was good with jokes, even today my spouse continues to tell me how horrible at jokes I am, I don’t know if it’s that there comes a ghoulish humor and overtone I don’t know. Humor and I feel is something very much like art, it’s to be observed and considered by whoever’s perspective and whatever perspective it may be. There may be an essence of humor, it may not be funny. It all depends, right?

    Honestly, if I see somebody trip and then fall, the first thing I’m going to say is oh my gosh I hope they’re okay. I’m not one for violent “comedic” accidents, there is always the concern of the person that I just saw in a video, thinking ‘are they okay, are they breathing, did they possibly lose a limb, their eyeball’ who knows? But humor is something that I find has too much of an opening for being damaging and more than harmful.

    Even with family, pushing it too far, laughing maniacally while a child is getting popped in the face after a swatting at a moth fluttering off from that wounded kids mouth. Or twins falling from the bunk bed landing on jutted out metal radiator fixtures, but the fall had enough humor, it’ll lap up the blood. Mind you, I’m not talking about stand-up, that’s an art. Anyhow…

    Maybe this is coming from a history of being picked on and consistently teased and nagged on for, essentially just living, being me. And there’s a conundrum, because I remember friends telling me ‘it’s just so funny because you make it so easy’, or ‘you take everything so seriously’, or ‘you’re so sensitive’. But that’s it, I am being me, same as with these daily journals, these daily drops whatever they are, it’s a 100% true depiction of who I am, how I think, and how I feel.

    I appreciate humor, and I appreciate comedy, but I feel that even with the laugh, there’s a daunting reality that no matter how joyous and happy we may be real life is right there knocking on the door trying to remind you that the laundry monster is still gaining momentum the floor still need to be swept kitchen mopped bills paid hours punched in. I don’t mind the reality maybe it’s a matter of relying on the humor that it becomes egregious and just not funny I don’t know. Also side note the I don’t know is going to be continuous because there are a lot of things I don’t know and I don’t think it’s an issue stating that you don’t know I think it’s humble or humbling. Never do I want to be a know-it-all, I just want to learn and continue to learn.

    Good morning, Good night, good-bye.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Eight, January 8th, 2024

    The day starts with a sweat, the chill of the winter air that doesn’t seem to lift in the back room raps at my skin and my hand reaches for the phone blindly. As usual, it’s precarious perch is bare, but the arm drops and grabs l, still blind, and lands heavily onto the screen. My eyes open and the screen, bright enough it lights the room just enough to know it’s nowhere near the alarm set and I groan. Adjust, move a leg, position for another pocket of warmth and can’t manage to gain the comfort I stirred from .

    A commotion softly starts with the looking for socks in the laundry beast that’s swarming over a sixth of the space left in the back room, and lazily, I brush away clean underwear, wrinkled shirts, and towels wrapped inside of jeans and other clothes. Finally, socks that are fit for boots, a slip of the shirt from last night, the jeans still with the belt on and I head to the dogs who either heard the chime of the belt or just knew I’d be up.

    Lobo jumps with glee the moment his gate opens, peer pawed in the face with an exuberance of an eight-month Pyrenees while the mutt, Oreo a shitzu terrier whines his familiar small dog whine. The two are complete and utter opposites but they pair well and joyously snuggle with my steps in the blistering cold outside. The two tread through the snow, my arms wrestling with their leashes, grabbing my jacket at the door and slipping it on while letting them off to bark at the sinking moon and the white crystals twirling around them while they run back and forth.

    The ice block coated in warm water is lapped up quickly, shortly followed by a crunch crunch chomp. I slowly step toward the wind, and my breath is stripped from the lungs as the cold constricts my heart and body demanding a carbon dioxide sacrifice from me to feed its world. I cough, wheeze and scurry back inside to start the Keurig ready the lunches for the family and start up my programs, school, and the day ting work that’s already buzzing on the small phone nagging and skittering with every message and alert. I groan quietly, go about my way and ignore the alerts. The dogs howl at the destroyed breakfasts and wrestle in the snow barking at the door, begging for a run at play with either the boy or I. Ready the smoothie for the Mrs, pack her lunch, ready her water, set the bags, both the boys and hers and off they go. A kiss, a goodbye, followed by a caressing of espresso down my tongue and throat coaxing the body in warmth.

    This is my morning, most mornings, and I feel that I’ve gained more direction and accountability with these words I share.

    “In your actions, don’t procrastinate. In your conversations, don’t confuse. In your thoughts, don’t wander. In your soul, don’t be passive or aggressive. In your life, don’t be all about business.” – Marcus Aurelius

    Goodnight, Good morning.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Six, January 6th, 2024

    I’m finally starting to understand the commercializing of Ocrevus and the steps that taking Ocrevus brings. When one gets this opportunity, the first infusion is done in two sessions and I finally did that second session at the beginning of December. At the start I think a lot of my excitement and the anxiousness that I felt with the excitement brought a lot of wanting to change and wanting to feel the change. But the matter of fact was it doesn’t work like magic, it takes time, everything takes time, so my body took it a bit rough, and I had to compensate for the very much-needed rest that still is called for.

    But I kept the hesitation at bay, at least as best as I thought. Something though started happening through the nerve endings and synapsis within. This brought an excitement that I hadn’t felt in eons and knowing the blacked-out spots in my brain may become rejuvenated, igniting a fire and it’s been a journey in itself and that’s just since December 13, 2023.

    The lines are becoming tethered and the feeling is splendid and tiring. A conundrum, I know., but it’s the finding of gaining my senses, staying on track, and finishing projects. My resolution since the Ocrevus infusion was not to miss a day, not to let the future or past interrupt my wanting to finish the goals and the agenda of becoming stronger in mind and heart. All in good time.

    Goodnight, good morning.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Five, January 5th, 2024

    I’ll start with a quote, one from my favorite stoic, Marcus Aurelius.

    “You’re better off not giving the small things more than they deserve.” –Marcus Aurelius

    My thoughts: I ponder and though the other day I addressed the Labrador-happy-go-lucky-next-day-attitude. And yet, there is a truth to the statement mentioned above. If we lived to let those small things, those small worries that more likely press to the Id or Ego, the manifestation becomes so weighted and juxtaposed with the emotions of one moment that the other emotions present and current are considered to be null and void. And atop that, what can we control other than ourselves?

    I take this quote though toward aspects of work, school, and creating what I choose to. To finish is but a concept most of the time. I let the details; those minute issues reside within the scopes of what’s referred to, overwhelm the cause.

    Essentially what I’ve found through reading Aurelius, Seneca, and Epictetus as well as others of the stoic kind is a call to remove the fluff, the squiggles of life and the chaos that blinds us from the whole that is unfolding every minute. There is this call to close the mind from the distractions and the drama that floods our airways and screens to focus on what is needed. It’s not to shut the world around us but to link the causal factors that can aid in defining who we are as the original self.

    Side Note: I know it’s one am and I’m still running my day of the fifth. The days blend together at times. Sorry.

    Aiming for clarity and for a deeper understanding in being a better person. I’ll share my thoughts in the morn, goodnight readers.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Four, January 4th, 2024

    There is so much to do, so much to clean, and make order to what’s amiss. And though it’s only the 4th of course the year before in the year before all piled together because we know like the pills we ingest there is a half-life to everything we have before us and behind us and hell even coming to us. But I will say regardless of half-life I am very much, really f****** sick and tired of having to hug at the cactus. I get the idea for retribution, consolidation, and recovery regardless the relationship, a dichotomy gone awry, or a relationship of the most dearest, I’m sick and tired of hugging the f****** cactus. But then again I have to realize and also respect and understand that my differences are going to be just like that of someone else’s, different.

    I am not you, I’m not them, I’m not they, I am me. Still sick and tired of hugging the cactus but at least there’s that understanding that I need to come to terms with the knowledge that if I want that love and feel that I may favor with this love, I need to understand that no matter what I envision, doesn’t mean we share the same and doesn’t mean we cover the same or hold to the same principal.

    But when you really look at it that’s what it is right? It’s loving somebody or appreciating somebody so much and just enough that no matter what flame, no matter what dagger, no matter what pile of s*** they give you you’re going to turn around and just like a puppy come running back wagon that tail because there’s a love that is unequivocal unmeasurable and you just hope that you don’t f*** it up enough that it never comes back right?

    I’m that kind of person though, I’m that dumb dog that tends to not hold a grudge. Nope, I tend to forgive very easily and I hope, so much to a point that it’s almost insurmountable naivety. And I guess that’s the conundrum or the paradox. That I’m a fool enough to reset my mind over and over regardless and just try to hold on dear for the next day being better than this. I’ll change for myself, I’ll change to make sure that life is better for others and better for communicating and understanding in making sure I can manage something of profit.May that come eventually. But again it’s a reset every freaking morning, I reset every morning and make a conscious decision to take the best that I can everyday. Day four and still thinking I got this. Just trying to maintain a lack in cactus, a rest when needed and food to quell the worry. Good night everyone.

    Nosce Te Ipsum

  • Day Two, January 2nd, 2024

    Do you ever take a look at the world or the small bubble that you find yourself in? Do you ever take counts of your stock, of your waste, do you take to what hasn’t been done, or do you just take a step forward every day not thinking about it?

    I’ve gotten very much into an app, and though this isn’t free marketing, it’s a suggestion to maybe check it out. It’s called Memento Mori, it’s a daily planning and journal project.

    Regardless of how I found it or how I use it, what I did find, through journaling, through readings, quotes, and persistent writings of my own in regard to how I felt with reading about stoicism, brought a calming, and a heed to listening to my breathing, to listen to the world around me.

    And with that my resolution became a sowing of betterment for myself and the ones I love, so I can be a better me and I can aim in treating myself the way I want to be.

    -Nosce Te Ipsum