Home(less) of the brave

There’s been a lot of stuff going on over the past few weeks. There’s never the “right time” or whatever to post or even try to post. It’s hard for so many nowadays. Everyone is trying to get back to their entertained state of convenience. It’s getting uglier than ever out there. There’s something though that made me feel like things are worse for those who are already doing much worse than you.

I recently got put into a very uncomfortable state of being, as my spouse made me do a road trip to spend some of her vacation time. I don’t like to do the social interaction thing with people. Long before the pandemic, I was well cemented in my antisocial ways of anxiety hiding from the mass amount of mindless idiots that are growing exponentially. I’m telling you that I don’t need tv or movies. Not when you have 21st century America. However because for some reason this beautiful person loves me and wants me to go with her on her trip, I go. Things start bittersweet because we started the trip by dropping our son off at the airport to fly back to Virginia. It’s so hard when we hadn’t seen him in over two years. So day one is just miserably hot and uncomfortable. My arthritis is flaring something awful and it’s hot as shit in this very uncomfortable passenger seat of her convertible. 12 hours into this drive we finally make our first stop. We try our best to get comfortable in the hotel, but we’re so exhausted that we just pass out regardless. The next day we are doing less drive time but still won’t be into Oregon because the wife wants a picture at the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco before we end the day in Eureka. We get to our hotel stop and it’s the worst one of the whole trip. Shitty staff. Shitty and dirty room. Shitty loud guests. The place was filled with old broken cars everywhere. Normally I would not care, but this was the most expensive room on the trip up there and just very uncomfortable. I couldn’t sleep but that happens. We go to get breakfast and the McDonald’s app forces me to do the curbside pickup. The doors are barricaded at this place. I’m very discouraged. This kid finally comes out with only half our order and gets himself locked out. His coworkers just dit watching him laughing as he’s trying to go in to get the stuff he forgot. Finally one of them opens the door and the kid goes to get the rest of the order. This poor kid was embarrassed but was polite and still had a smile with his return. I only had a couple bucks in my wallet but gave it to him as a thank you for doing a god job taking care of the customers while dealing with shitty coworkers. With that we cross the street to get gas, and that’s when I saw something that hurt a lot.

I’ve seen the homeless and understand that there is some shit that happens to everyone. Some have bad luck. Some just choose to live like that. I don’t judge. I was homeless myself for a good spell. however I have not seen it first hand where these people are just invisible. It’s a feeling I didn’t like. Not only was this man digging up to his armpits in the trash at the gas station, but to get his attention I had to pat him on the shoulder. He said he thought I was talking to someone else because everyone just ignores him. I handed him all my breakfast and then after gassing up the car I went into the gas station buying canned food and beef jerky, bottles of water and brought it back to him. He was grateful but continued to dig in the trash, because bottles and cans he can exchange for money. This guy knew that the food I gave him will only go so far. I wished I could do more but knew it’s out of my control. From that stop until we reached our destination in Portland area, all I noticed was the sheer amount of little homeless encampments. When we toured Portland I noticed that blocks and blocks and blocks of the city were all just tents and boxes and shopping carts. People sleeping in doorways of now closed businesses. Some are clearly dealing with mental health issues, but so many looked like they were new to this life. Trying to survive in the heat with nothing. So many businesses closed down. So many losing jobs and homes. Worse than this though, was the blind eye turned to them and the struggle. Like they’re nothing but vermin or insects in the gutter. I mean they’re clearly there and there’s not just a few, or hundreds, but thousands.

Everyone wants to believe it’s not that bad and we’re getting back to normal , but why is this normal? Why do so many choose to ignore the suffering of others? Does it really make you feel better about yourself if you say it’s not that bad? Do you think if you just ignore it, it will all just go away like a stray cat? For a country that brags about being the best, it’s far from it.

People seem to only help if they’re recording it for social media clout. I didn’t even think of it, because I don’t need praise for being empathetic to my fellow people. I don’t give a shit about praise. I just want to help if I can, and let people know that I see them and They matter. Im very privileged and I understand it 100% I can easily be worse off, but I’m beyond gray for my family and there happiness. The rest is just stuff. Stuff comes and goes. I hope someone can figure out a real solution to the problems of the world but the reality is, people only invest in things with a return. So if they can’t profit from a good deed, then they say it’s just a bad investment.

Spitting into the wind

You can not carry water in a broken vessel. You can not fly across to water with a hole in your sail. Anger and frustration causes fractures and cracks in your walls. It leaves your spirit exposed and vulnerable. While you may feel strong some days, really you’re just punching holes it the walls and stomping cracks in your foundation.

I have been so angry for so long, I forgot what I was angry about and realized the anger was just a mask for my fears and insecurities. What happens when I unclench my fists and reach out my open hands? Will I find something reaching back? Will I be led back to happiness? Will I then find peace again? I used to tell myself “Not my circus. Not my monkeys!” Then I stopped telling myself that and I forgot I can’t control other things. All I can control is my words, and actions. I wasted precious time and energy trying to make others listen, but I can’t do that. I became deaf to my own words. I became blind to my own actions. My vessel became weak and the cracks started to show.

Today is a new day. Now is a new moment. I take back my light, and I will patch the walls. I will clean house and give it a new coat of paint. Clear the dirt and dust that blankets everything. I will open the windows to allow the fresh air to kiss my lungs. I will take a shower and wash away the blood and salt and shit that has splattered over me from my tantrums of madness. Then I will refill my vessel and remember that I am still worthy of my love.

Anxiously awake

I really don’t like to spend time worrying about birthdays, but since I started being sick they more feel like a mark on a doomsday clock. That’s a depressing way to think of it I’m sure, but since I have been unable to do anything since this started I feel I’m wasting time. I spend every day doing nothing of purpose. It’s like I’m just hanging around waiting to die. So it sucks to think about time because it slips by and unless you’re enjoying it, you’re wasting it.

I woke up with a panic attack again at 4 am. I dreamt of me doing a speech on my 63rd birthday and I was getting anxiety in my dream as I told those in attendance “it’s hard to believe 13 years ago I turned 50!” In my dream I started having an anxiety attack and next thing I know I’m awake having one. It’s terrible to waste time, but counting the time wasted is just magnifying it. I know it’s unhealthy, but my brain has done this all my life.

I don’t know why I’m so fixed on the life clock? After I finally calmed myself and went back to sleep I was awakened by one of the dogs licking my head to wake me. I let her out and sit in the living room with a cup of coffee. My wife is playing music videos on YouTube and cutting up our daughters softball shirts to make a quilt for her. All the songs that played I pointed out that the singers were dead. It started with Chris Cornell’s version of “nothing compares to you” where I jokingly said everyone who famously sang this song was dead. My wife drops her head and chuckled saying “HAPPY SUNDAY EVERYONE!” Her point being that on top of everything, those were the first words out of my mouth.

While I’m excited to get out into the pines today, I noticed that I’m good when there’s something I get to go do, or if I have a project to keep my occupied. It’s when I’m alone with my thoughts that the shadows overtake my thoughts. The other side of that is I spend so much time seeing past lives and the ghosts that linger that I really can’t avoid the subject of inevitability and death. Most people would think I’m insane. When you talk to me on any normal occasion I’m as grounded as the next guy, but talk about visions, spirits, spiritual energy, etcetera, and I sound like I’m a complete nut job.

I’m the guy who says things directly. To most I’m an asshole nut job who gets under your skin. To the few who know me truly and understand me, I’m a laid back guy who just has a couple loud moments. Nobody likes hearing that there hasn’t been an original thought for ages. Nobody likes hearing that we’re all going to die. “Why are you so grumpy and negative?” I’m not. I’m just honest. I’m autistic and hide as someone who is not. I learned to mimic very young. So I pass as a person who is not autistic. That means Is that I say things with the delicate touch of a sledgehammer to the face. Add in the mix of dealing with dimensional existences and seeing through the walls of separation, I see a lot of past present and future. I see and feel things most ignore, but for me it’s like a poison ivy rash that never heals. You can ignore it momentarily but it’s always there on your skin. You can’t stop your subconscious taking a pick or scratch. So needless to say I can seem like a bit much.

I end up staying home because I can tell the day was going to be busy. I mean everyone is suffering from crazy cabin fever. Everyone is like “fuck the pandemic” and out in force. So I instead stay home and hide in my hole. I only go out if it’s required, and when I do I’m like a field mouse looking out for the hawks about to swoop down and rip my into shades of bird shit! Besides, my day is busy enough with many journeys in the TARDIS of my mind.

Someone left the gate open

All the noises tonight are loud. My rural town sounds more like a city. People everywhere are out in droves. Cars are revving their engines. Tires are squealing. Horns, dogs, planes and kids are all filling the air with noise. One noise breaks through the chaos and snaps my focus. In the tree on the corner is an owl. He calls out a few times and goes to a tree down three houses. And things quiet a little. There’s still road noise, but people sounds fade away.

I’m at my fire with a drink and a cigar. I call out to the corners and lay my offerings under the tree. Spring is just as busy for me as the fall. The veil is thin around the equinox. As it was last week it’s still a bit thin. The ground is opening up to start anew. I’m working outside to prepare for planting trees and and small crops of food and flowers. It’s still too cold at night, but I’m doing the groundwork. Laying my intentions into the dirt. With my sun allergy I have to do what I can after the sun sets. This time though it’s harder. My body is fighting me. The arthritis in my back hips and knees has been throbbing for weeks. This doesn’t stop me though. I’m building my sanctuary here. I will have to move my fire before the next full moon and tonight it’s all about letting them know that it will be here still just a few feet away.

So as I sit at my fire now, trying to rest my bones, I hear the flow of things passing my way. So I will sit and listen for a while and the owl will take my voice for a while. I will see through his eyes, and watch through his eyes. I will soar through the night bring stories from another time and place. I will share them another time, but I feel there will be a few to tell.

Off we go

Who am I?

No longer do I recognize myself. I look at pictures from the past and I don’t see me. I see familiar things, but I don’t see me. Things that are in my past, are passed by as if not existing. Who am I?

Sense of normalcy is gone. That’s the new normal. I still get dressed and play the part, but I don’t see why it’s important? I’ve never cared really about it. So if I’m playing a part, who am I?

I sleep. I wake up. I eat. I shit. All these things I do to identify as something, but who am I?

Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow hasn’t happened. I was: I will, but who am I?

Lost in a sea of memories that are as distant as planets. Playing scenes from a movie nobody ever heard of. Separation. Removal. That was something, but who am I?

I go to the bathroom and wash my hands. I look in the mirror. Who are you?

Reality b(y)tes

Everyday it gets worse. My inability to deal with the mass stupidity that is Americans and their “right to freedom.” I have seen the mass movement of ignorance and stupidity waving as proud as they wave flags of fascist leaders and racist confederacy. Still to this day it is the sounding horn of there battle cry. My only response is to tell them to take their freedom guns, shove them up their asses and pull the trigger. The only way to end their spread of ignorance and hatred is to remove them completely. They don’t care about anyone else’s rights but theirs. You can’t educate someone who doesn’t want to learn. So the only thing to remove the tyranny that is fascism and racism, is death. Treat it as you would a rabid animal. There comes a point where you have to put ol’ yeller down. It’s for the safety of everyone else. On that same idea of balance though, we need to watch the ones who have their heads shoved so deep up their ass in a yoga pose that they think will make the world a better place if we believe in more fantasy and fiction. This mentality is just as dangerous.

It seems that no matter the instance, nobody takes any responsibility for their actions. Nobody wants to give a healthy dose of common sense. It’s all gone. We as humans are failing ourselves at a faster rate each day. It’s all about what gets likes or makes you the new standard of special. Why can’t you just be happy for what you have and not care about what others think? I know I’m flawed with my own intolerances, but I acknowledge them and work to do better. I no longer see that anymore. News is just more click bait for reality tv and advertising money. Every time you turn on the tv, you find yourself questioning if you’re watching a fictional show or news? You can’t tell the difference. Our lives are just a meme or a sound byte. We have completely invalidated our own existence. All we have to do to see what happened to the world to make it such a shit hole, is look in a mirror.

Sure I’m on a rant. When am I not anymore? I just seriously can not see the point of this world. I used to have hope for people. Now things have changed so much that I can’t find any light at the end of the tunnel. I’ve removed all social media from my phone, and I hide in my room. This is not healthy for me, but it’s far healthier for everyone else.

Mummy and child

Rehydrating leathery dried skin, looks like a gelatinous mess. I saw last night as long dead giants had been resurrected after being found in the sea. They were dead and were dried up mummies that were found nearly a century before and were being transported back to the land of giants. The ship fell to a mighty storm and all were perished.

Now being found again, their remains were brought upon our shores by a cargo ship after a large flash appeared beneath the deep sea. The giant boxes of remains floated back to the surface. After they landed at port one of them suddenly reanimated and was returning to life. There were 2 one was obviously younger than the other. A mind of a child. Lost and confused, he hid in an old garage missing its mother. it hid and cried because everyone and everything they knew was gone.

It was found by some kids who tried to help them feel better. They were going to look out for them as if they were another sibling in the family. When they told their parents, their mom was overjoyed and proud of them for being so kind, but their father was unsure and stayed distant.

More strange events would start happening, as deserts started becoming lush green forests, and hot swampy towns became icy frozen wastelands. Rains fell and the seas rose. Cities along the coasts started falling below the waters.

While this went on, the family kept reassuring their new found sibling that everything will be ok.

The jump

As catastrophic anomalies wreak havoc on earths gravitational force and atmosphere, our lives become endangered. A drastic gamble is made and life has to start anew on a new planet that is stable, but with a stronger gravitational pull. Everyone is now twice as heavy. People who were overweight already are now plagued with overwhelming pain and find it too difficult to move, while the healthy ones now notice the extreme differences of trying to carry extra weight. As people struggle with this, there is a new hunger that plagues them. Nobody had the time to test the effects of this new planet. Now it’s too late, and they have to figure out their next steps while managing to stay alive with new appetites that turned so many into monsters. They had only seen in movies. On top of it, the harbingers called screamers that brought the doom of the previous planet are already showing up here. The glowing white orbs that used to be called wisps soar around making a high pitched noise that sounds like a high pitch scream. The screaming seems to trigger those who are borderline with the overwhelming hunger and frustration to snap instantly to the new ferocious monsters we become.

Following the river

Driving in a small pickup, radio playing rock music that’s got overwhelming feelings coursing through her body. Happy, sad, strong, and weak all at once. She sings along “every time I’m falling down, every time I fall to pieces!” She’s happy in the memory but feels deeply they’re absence. She drives along the river, as her years fall down her face. What she would give to feel like that again. With them. She pulls off the road to a small clearing by the riverside between some trees. There’s ducks and gulls in the water. A gentle breeze wisps through the air. She takes a deep breath and walks to the water slipping her shoes off as she goes. There’s nobody with her, but she feels their presence. She closes her eyes as her feet hit the water. The smell of the river fills her nostrils. She knows she only has an empty place to go home to. She wonders how she can feel so depressed while in such a beautiful spot with perfect weather? She tried calling out, but no response comes.

About a half hour goes by, before she heads back to the truck. She’s going to go to the Dairy Queen and get some French fries and a sundae where she will sit and eat outside at the stone table. Dipping her fries in her ice cream, she feels the hold to this space let go of her. She doesn’t finish her food but gets up and throwing it in the trash, she decides the night needs some alcohol. She gets a bottle of vodka and a pack of smokes on her way home.

Sitting in the tub she drops the now empty bottle of vodka on the floor. She feels the quick sharp bites and lays back in the tub watching the water swirl it’s pinkish swirls. She thinks to herself “I’m so tired, I’m just going to go to sleep”

esti mortanto

This morning I again started yelling out what I thought was gibberish. I relate it to a Tourette’s kind of outburst. I have what is an uncontrolled physical tic, followed by a vocal outburst of vocal articulation. but instead of noises or just curse words it’s articulated words. None I understand. I started running an audio recorder to capture it.

So far we’ve figured out a few of them. Afrikaans, French/creole, Italian, Portuguese, Navajo/Diné, Dakota, Russian, Icelandic, Gaelic, and this morning was the first time I ever heard Esperanto as I was yelling it in the car. Repeatedly I kept yelling the phrase esti mortanto. I have a neurodivergent mind. I’ve been diagnosed with autistic spectrum disorder and have been a psychic medium all my life. Able to see and hear things others can’t all my life has caused me to be looked at as odd. My parents just said I was over dramatic with an active imagination, yet tell stories of me predicting unannounced visitors etc.

I honestly did not think Esperanto was a real thing. I heard on a movie the name Esperanto but thought it was some made up term. However, this does not explain the outburst of a language I didn’t even know existed escaping my lips. Then I realize that it’s what is the equalizer of all things.

Death comes for everything. One moments existence between eternities of non existence. Today I was reminded of that as my step father who passed away a few years back came to visit me. He took over the room. The random shuffle on my echo speaker became Murray’s playlist. The smells in the air became breakfast with him and my mother. I heard his horribly annoying laugh and it brought joy to my heart. I saw his face smiling at me with tears of joy rolling down his cheeks. He raised a bottle of Canadian and I heard the words “Put aside anger, sadness, fears. Life is short so drink your beers!” It was followed again by his laugh.

From birth we are dying. So in the time we have, we should truly live. We all die someday so why wait to truly live?

S.O.