Saturday Morning Thoughts

Cold here but not as cold as its been. 

I got to say I slept in and I do not feel as tired as I did working at Texas Roadhouse.

I have to do laundry and I think I will need to go grocery shopping this afternoon. My life is a bit determined by bus schedules.

I got an email from E.  She has to admit my life is quieter than she thought it would be. She worried that I would start running around with the Muncie crackheads, that I would return to old behaviors. At the same time, I have the government thinking I am intent on picking up girls at the junior high school.

I was never ready for E's concerns. I was more ready for the government's attitude. The government did surprise me with being so obsessed with sex. I do not think I have been so obsessed with sex qua sex since high school. Love was an obsession, but I think I  am beyond that now. Everyone who raised a passion in me is either or immersed in a reasonable facsimile. I no longer feel anything but the sadness of a disappointed heart.

I do not think I made a big point of this on this blog but I saw CC months ago. It was on the bus. She did not recognize me. I barely recognized her. Only her voice gave her away. I thought at the time she was high. Now not so sure. I have seen her high. She never acted like a zombie. This version was dull-eyed, dull-witted. She would never have been seen in public dressed like a homeless person. She had the vanity of a blonde. And she did not ask for money, either. She thoroughly scared me. I stopped riding the morning bus. I think something happened that damaged her. Probably another item to add to my list of things my having my head up my ass, my not being here, caused to go wrong. Guilt undermines passion. 

I had thought it easy to avoid my druggie friends. I never thought being scared of knowing what had become of them would so chill me that I am terrified of knowing what did happen. t

Take this to heart: the wreckage of a human being stripped of personality is an ugly, scary thing. Thank God for sparing us such a life. 

I am left wondering - still - what to do with remains of my life. Writing as a witness, as a counter to the ugliness that almost swallowed me up and has swallowed up CC, seems to be my job. At least, it feels like the right job. 

If I had been healthier in 2009 I might have avoided the mess I made of my life, but I would not be thinking as I am now. And, yes, I prefer my thinking now to what might have been. 

Sorry about going on so long about this, I never felt I explained myself very well before. Maybe I have still to do so!

I never worried about reverting to 2009 because I knew I was reverting to an even older behavior. I never even  thought about young girls or the government's certainty I would be chomping at the bit to get at illegal images. Therein lies a death-in-life,in my opinion; as well as a sterility of imagination. Being enraptured with self-destruction as an escape from the constricting ugliness of this world belongs to 2009.

 The Sam of 2009 seems a stranger to be studied and refuted. I need to be what you and my other friends can at least tolerate. I need to atone for my misspent life. Ugliness cannot be accepted. That I did tells of my ill-health. We must fight against the ugliness, we must do what we can to improve this world and the lives of others. We might not win but that us not the piint - the point is not to succumb.

Now my laundry calls 

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