my journal: various subjects, opinionating, CW at times
The title explains itself.
If you're interested in the ramblings of a middle-aged man with chronic conditions who, at times, sees things a little too clearly for his own good, then read on.
Sometimes I get political, but it won't be all the time.
I don't mind comments in general but if you're going to differ with what I write, that's fine--as long as you can explain your position clearly & reasonably. Rants, shouting & general incoherence will be ignored or flagged, depending on the situation. Try to remember that not everyone else in this world holds your beliefs.
Every so often I may post art or snapshots of projects I'm working on.
If you're still interested after reading all the above, great. (I do wonder at how much time you have on your hands, though)
All projects & tasks are currently paused as I have a cold, or more likely a sinus infection--I tend to contract one at this time of year, because of all the pollen.... Cursed be nature, or God or what-have-you for bringing allergens into this world. Nasty congestion, harshly sore throat, an overall lack of energy.
The daily regimen is staying bundled up, trying to drink enough water (not easy when you don't have much of an appetite) & taking it easy. Took a hot bath two nights ago & that seemed to help a bit... Meanwhile I'm reading a few of my fave tomes. The current one is Notes On Democracy by H.L. Mencken
Jan. 31st Edit: Not only is the infection still at large, it has somewhat reduced inside my sinuses while spreading to my left eye...& on top of that, my chest feels a bit tight. And I have a cough. Guess those hot baths can only do so much.
Gotta do some laundry now, & a few dishes. Will go to the walk-in clinic when I get up tomorrow. Life stinks. 🤧🤕
If in a dream you were frolicking with a young girl* & you wake up to the awareness of solitude with your youth behind you, & of your health issues cementing your place on the social attractiveness hierarchy...
Sure, it's gloomy. But it ain't as bad as it sounds, either. As long as you have dreams like that, there is still some life left in you.
*or guy, depending. Can't leave the ladies & the gays out.
From what I'm reading:
"Casey took some note cards from his pocket and began writing, encouraging Tighe to keep going. Korea, Vietnam--old problems, old wars--might not be over.
"The Nixon-Kissinger opening has not solved the China problem, Tighe said. Chinese policy could change 180 degrees overnight. The Chinese strategic nuclear force, their submarines, their orbited satellites, their ICBMs make them a world power. There is a serious error in the way we've looked at the Chinese, viewing them only as some kind of giant Third World country, focusing on them as a massive regional threat. The new listening posts..."
- Bob Woodward, Veil: The Secret Wars of the CIA 1981-1987
me: "Got a lot to do this year...I won't use (anti)social media too often. There won't be enough time. Gotta do some drawings, finish building my cane, get a couple other projects going, etc."
also me: *has flare-ups with head pain, vertigo; did nothing today*
The only real news in my life is that I am posting my art somewhere else online now. No, I will not put the URL here as I prefer to keep my life strictly compartmented...it helps my peace of mind & gives me a bit more freedom. Anyway it's an online community for artists, game developers & other creative folk. My account there is about two weeks old, so I've been giving it plenty of attention. Thus I haven't had as much time to show up here & hang out in chat, etc. as I had previously.
Am mostly limiting my account there to finished work, so the pieces I have in my gallery there are not like what I've posted here.
It's been windy today. Not much else to report other than that.
A Woman's Hundred Years
At ten, like a flowering branch in the rain,
She is slender, delicate and full of grace.
Her parents are themselves as young as the rising moon,
And do not allow her past the red curtain without a reason.
At twenty, receiving the hairpin, she is a spring bud.
Her parents arrange her betrothal; the matter's well done.
A fragrant carriage comes at evening to carry her to her lord.
Like Xiaoshi and his wife, at dawn they depart with the clouds.
At thirty, perfect as a pearl, full of the beauty of youth,
At her window, by the gauze curtain, she makes up in front of the mirror.
With her singing companions, in the waterlily season,
She rows a boat and plucks the blue flowers.
At forty, she is mistress of a prosperous house and makes plans.
Three sons and five daughters give her some trouble.
With her qin not far away, she toils always at her loom,
Her only fear that the sun will set too soon.
At fifty, afraid of her husband's dislike,
She strains to please him with every charm,
Trying to remember the many tricks she had learned since the age of sixteen.
No longer is she afraid of mothers—and sisters-in-law.
At sixty, face wrinkled and hair like silk thread,
She walks unsteadily and speaks little.
Distressed that her sons can find no brides,
Grieved that her daughters have departed for their husbands' homes.
At seventy, frail and thin, but not knowing what to do about it,
She is no longer able to learn the Buddhist law even if she tries.
In the morning a light breeze
Makes her joints crack like clanging gongs.
At eighty, eyes blinded and ears half deaf,
When she goes out she cannot tell north from east.
Dreaming always of departed loves,
Who persuade her to chase the dying breeze.
At ninety, the glow fades like spent lightning.
Human affairs are no longer her concern.
Lying on a pillow, solitary on her high bed,
She resembles the dying leaves that fall in autumn.
At a hundred, like a cliff crumbling in the wind,
For her body it is the moment to become dust.
Children and grandchildren will perform sacrifices to her spirit,
And clear moonlight will forever illumine her patch of earth.
- ballad, one of around 50,000 documents & fragments from the 5th
to 11th centuries found in a cave in Dunhuang, China. They
were written by Buddhists, Taoists & a few Zoroastrians, & rediscovered in 1900.
I encountered an older woman at the nearby dollar store a couple days ago. She was a reminder of why I should not get in convos with strangers... Christ on a crutch. I am some guy you just met & don't even know. I am not your *** therapist. It is amazing how if you have a face like mine & stand silently, people will tell you more about themselves than you would ever want to know... *smh*
Having said that, she wasn't completely useless. I got a heads-up on how Jacksonville (& nearby towns in the region, no doubt) has been steadily getting more expensive. Her rent is set to double to $1,600 a month. The woman is older & disabled. At this point she's scrambling to find a place with one of her relatives....not a good situation to be in.
So far, the last rent increase was unpleasant but nothing I can't deal with, for the near future. If my rent should go up drastically, though...my fate could be worse. That woman has family here, & I do not.
I was set to get a few projects done this year. Now I'm thinking while I still want to do a couple or three of 'em if possible, preparing for a possible housing deprivation should probably take precedence.
RIght now I am okay. But if that should change, I do not want to get caught with my pants down. Wish me luck.
Edit: As I predicted, the inspection was quick. I did not expect the worker ants to arrive before 0930 hrs, though.
They replaced the filter in my A/C. I always buy my own filters but if the managers of this anthill want to give us free filters, who am I to argue?
I've had little energy during daylight hours...This isn't unusual in itself (I've always been a night owl); however, this week I've really been at a low ebb when the sun was up.
Maybe I should build a coffin to sleep in...would have to upholster it well. I don't know how to do upholstery. But I can definitely build a box. 😁
Between the head pain, vertigo, joint pain (mostly the fingers, right elbow & either knee these days), fatigue & being a night person, I get little to nothing done during normal business hours.
...by the FSM, I hate living in a world run by daylight people.
Art follows him through the tent.
"'Jesus loves you,'" Parada mutters. "Nights like this make me wonder if that's just cr@p. What brings you here? Guilt?"
"Something like that."
Art takes money from his pocket and offers it to Parada. It's his last month's salary.
"It will buy medicine," Art says.
"God bless you."
"I don't believe in God," Art says.
"Doesn't matter," Parada says. "He believes in you."
Then He, Art thinks, is a sucker.
- Don Winslow, The Power of the Dog
