Clearly this is becoming a series.

Mostly because if I do something twice, I feel compelled to do it a third time.

But I already know what I will be talking about in the next one, so there’s that.

Anyhow, you know this isn’t aimed at you, so here goes :

I have finally started tapping into my deep wells of both sarcasm and cutting observation in order to put my work and my words out there in the world and I must say it feels pretty good.

And I have already gotten both praise and backlash and I love both so I am quite happy with how things are progressing.

But my ambition remains to go huuuuuge with my words. I want to be a globally recognized thought leader whom people turn to for my vision, my insight, my unique point of view, and my ability to be more right about a lot of things than everyone else.

I want people to say, “Boy, I can’t wait to hear what HE has to say about this!”, both on the left and on the right, and it would make me so very, very happy to know that I am sparking discussion and debate all over the world with my thought provoking takes on the world we live in.

That would make me one very happy trickster. I would know that I was doing my duty to get people to think and grow and expand their minds, even if initially they are only doing so in order to better disagree with me.

When people think, we win. It’s the sleeping brutes we have to watch out for.

Now what else should I be typing about? Oh yeah, my day.

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Time for a life update

Did not make it to Kinsmen. Last night and this morning I was having one of my attacks of flu-like symptoms. Raspy throat, scratchy lungs, stiff sore muscles, energy drain, all the old familiar faces.

It’s clear up a little bit since. My lungs and throat are still out of whack but some rest and fluids seem to have cleared up the drained feeling and moving around some today and getting some sunshine and fresh air seems to have helped my poor muscles.

It’s amazing how often that in order to get better, I have to do the exact opposite of what my stupid body wants me to do.

No, don’t pick that itchy as hell scab. Move those sore stiff muscles. Don’t eat the stuff that looks so tasty but it’s fulla sugar so you know it will make you sick.

Anyhow, I did make it to my doctor’s appointment today.

Being too sick to go to the doctor is something I reserve for when I need to be way more irrational for whatever reason.

We talked about my high blood pressure. He tried to measure my BP the old fashioned way, with the pressure cuff and stethoscope, and it didn’t work.

Could have told him it wouldn’t work, but would he have believed me?

Once we moved on to the automatic digital method, he discovered that my blood pressure is, indeed, too high, but that the difference between my sitting and standing BP was so great that upping my BP meds to lower my sitting BP would lead to my BP dipping so low when I stand up that I’d pass out.

But he referred me back to Doctor Shari and I will talk it over with her eventually.

Unfortunately it took a long time to get back home. When I was done with Doctor Chao, I got his receptionist to call Julian.

I had to do that because my dumb self forgot his phone at home. Which meant a lot of being bored while waiting. D’oh.

But Julian did not pick up. So the receptionist left a message. Then we did the same thing half an hour later. Same result.

Another half hour later and it finally occurs to me to get her to call Joe’s cell instead. That works, and gets the ball rolling for my pickup.

Then I have another brainwave and realize that I can wait for pickup outside in the fresh air and sunshine if I just used my walker’s seat.

So I got my fresh air and sunshine despite missing Kinsmen.

Turns out the problem was that Julian’s cell ran out of power.

Oh well, excrement occurs.

More after the break.

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plussingthetrigger

Another home run from Kee

Wow, does this guy get me.

Yup, this is pretty much it.

Like I have said before, what sanity I retain I think I got from my babysitter Betty.

So things didn’t really go all to hell for me until I got to school and there was nobody looking out for me or who even cared about me any more.

And so I became more and more withdrawn. At first I tried to make friends and get along with others but there’s only so much rejection a sensitive child can take before they conclude that there is nothing out there for them in the world of other people.

Like I have also said before, my shyness is somewhat paradoxical. I can seem outgoing and friendly and even charming but that disappears at the slightest sign of rejection or even just non-inclusion as I am crushed like the hothouse orchid I am.

In a sense it would be less confusing if I was just plain antisocial all the time. Might even be healthier for me, really.

But that’s uh, not how things turned out.

I mean, I need a Xanax to do my stuff at Kinsmen and yet I record a video of just me talking every day and think nothing of putting it on YouTube and TikTok.

I never had any trouble speaking up when I knew the answer in class. Yet I hid from my fellow students during lunch and recess.

I was a complicated child, and now I am an even more complicated man.

I hope that at least makes me interesting.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

I am quite proud of the video I made today.

Don’t take it personally. If you’re reading this, odds are heavily in favour of it not being addressed to you.

See the title if you get a tad confused. If that doesn’t apply to you, then it’s not for you!

Anyhow, here it is :

The choice to address it to the viewer in the second person (“you”) was quite deliberate. This vid is me aiming flaming truth arrows right at the heart of the modern right wing in order to break through their thin patina of justifications and reveal unto them just what worthless fucking cowards they are for being such pathetic stooges.

And all because the alternative is to think for themselves. Unacceptable!

I pondered trying to work that angle of insult into the speech in today’s vid but it already has a small amount of topic drift so I left it out.

But perhaps that will be the angle for my next verbal tactical assault.

I posted that vid to BlueSky, of course. I know it will appeal to my fellow lefties. My hope is that it spreads far and wide enough that some actual right wing fucknut types will see it and feel the sting of my extraordinarily sharp observations that cut them to the quick.

One does what one can.

The dream, of course, would be for this to bring down a torrent of incoherent and badly misspelled abuse from MAGAts on my head. Think of all the fun I would have responding to these pinheads and crushing their tiny minds with my mental might.

Bring it, motherfuckers. I will strike you down with God’s own thunder.

Actually, fuck that. I will strike you down with MINE.

My butt problem continues. The inflatable donut is back – Joe used his magic powers of knowing where he left stuff or saw stuff to retrieve it – and it helps but my weight squooshes the air out of it pretty fast.

Guess I need something with a stronger valve.

Obviously I don’t want to start buying cushions again. I remember how none of them worked for me before, possibly because I am quite fussy when it comes to my comfort, especially the comfort of my big beautiful bum.

So right now I am rather uncomfortable and will be getting off the computer the moment I am done with my words in order to let said profound buttocks rest.

I wonder if there’s butt exercise I could do to build up its core strength.

I wish I knew what the hell I did to make the pain go away last time. Did I just subconsciously learn to sit a different way? A way that did not create pressure points to torture and torment me?

I have no idea. Like I said before, this problem seems to have been coming on slowly over a space of months, so it’s not going to be a simple matter of making an adjustment.

Something changed within the butt itself, and I wanna know what.

My ass wants answers, dammit!

I suppose I could talk about it when I see Doc Chao tomorrow about my high blood pressure. Clearly the hypertension is my top level concern but if he has some suggestions as to what to do with my butt, I’m all ears.

I just like saying butt a lot. Hee hee hee.

I’ve also had a few attacks of very mild shortness of breath lately. Nothing I would call 911 over, just feeling a little out of breath at odd moments, and earlier today I had a dizziness attack when I was getting my clothes for today off the shelves.

Once more, I was saved from a nasty fall by my giant bed.

Without it, I would have to go around wrapped in bubble wrap.

More after the break.

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Feel so tired

I just came back from getting my supper out of the fridge and I am way more out of breath and tired than usual.

And that’s after a shorter trip than usual because all I had to do was grab my leftover Subway from last Saturday night plus a can of pop and a piece o’ fruit.

No waiting around for the microwave at all.

Maybe that’s the problem though – no pause in the middle. Hmm.

Anyhow, more worrisome than the being out of breath and my heart and head pounding and so forth is this scratchy, sore feeling in my lungs.

Uh oh. That feels distinctly viral. I will do my best to hydrate thoroughly and see if that fixes me up but if not, I might not make it to Kinsmen tomorrow.

Which would kinda suck.

I will still make it to my doctor’s appointment regardless, of course. Apparently I need it more than I even knew when I made it.

Like I said, it could all go away with sufficient fluid intake. We’ve been down this road together before, dear audience, and what seems dire turns out to be nothing or nothing much at any rate.

But I do not like the feel of it at all. This plus that dizzy spell I had earlier point toward there being something draining my system and I do not wish to end up with god damned pneumonia again so I am gonna be real careful about this.

I swear that my body chooses when it knows I will be going to the doctor in order to get ill. LIke on some deep level I have been suppressing my own symptoms and only the prospect of actual care can cause them to surface for real.

That’s a depressing thought.

I will keep you updated, dear readers. And I will be monitoring my own condition very carefully because if this gets worse, it’s off to UC or the ER for me.

Because I am NOT getting pneumonia again dammit!

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

Starting with my own, of course.

Considering the amount of time I spend making outrageously and delightfully filthy AI art, my libido is in working order, more or less.

It’s a fun hobby because it motivates me to learn to make the AI art generators do what I want them to do and that, in turn, encourages me to stretch my visual imagination and try to learn to be as specific as possible.

The AI art generators punish non-specificity by creating Cronenbergian horrors that look like someone crossed this website with the last 20 minute of Akira.

Let’s see if I can find a creation of mine I am willing to share with y’all.

Pretty sure that one won’t get me in trouble. Probably.

Still pretty harmless. OK, one more :

I think that’s probably enough for now. Right? Right.

And then there’s this rockin’ gem :

Holy shit, right? That sounds so good. That channel, Fake Music, has a whole bunch of similarly funkified versions of 80’s and it blows my mind, man.

I am also jealous of the name Fake Music, because that’s what I make and now I can’t call it that and it’s like the perfect name.

I might call mine “synthetic tunes” if I ever organize my stuff into channels. I like the sound of that. It sounds like exactly what you would expect people to be listening to in “the future”, at least if you were around for New Wave the first time.

I’m getting the itch to write another song. Something more personal. So watch this space for my next mopey folk song built around an elaborate metaphor for my inner life.

I’ll call it, “Emo, the Tragic Dragon. ”

I’ve been struggling with my “shoulds” today. As in, my idea of what I “should” be doing but I am not doing because I am just letting my usual routine carry me along instead.

And I know that’s the wrong way to be looking at it, and I am trying to get over it. There is nothing I “should” be doing except staying alive and trying to stay healthy. That is all society asks of a disabled person like myself. I don’t “owe” anyone anything else.

What I continue to desire is to do things I want to do, because I want to do them. Need and “should” don’t come into it. I will be much better off if I learn to simply follow my desires without putting any pressure or stress on myself.

Because it’s the pressure and stress that triggers the avoidance and it’s the avoidance that keeps me from getting anywhere in life.

But so far I still lack the courage to simply step off of my well trod path and go looking for whatever else out there seems fun.

For me that might as well be a spacewalk. That’s how big of a step it feels. Like I would be venturing into the hard vacuum of space.

Which is ridiculous, of course, and obviously a delusion spun by my mental illness in order to “keep me in my place. “

But my place kinda sucks.

Somehow, I am going to find a way to stop withdrawing so hard so I can emerge from my shells and take a look around me at long last.

And that means giving up on giving up on reality.

And that means going back to where it all started.

And that’s not gonna be fun.

More after the break.

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Your pet Fruvous

As I have mentioned before in this space, as sad as it sounds, it has does me a lot of good to start thinking of myself as a pet rather than a burden.

Not that any of it makes sense at all when it comes down to it. Via the province, I pay my own way in this household, so I’m not a financial burden except in small incidental ways like the gas money to drive me to my medical appointments.

It says something about my mindset that I think about things like that.

And yes, my roomies help me with my walker when I am getting in and out of the car. And that’s very nice of them and I appreciate it a lot, but the still-sick part of my mind insists that this makes me a burden on them even though they are not, in any way, complaining about it.

So the pet thing helps me to recontextualize it all. After all, pets always involve a certain amount of effort to care for and look after. And unless you are very small of soul and puny of heart person, you don’t resent the pet for it, because you know you get a great deal from having your cat or dog or budgie around as a companion and looking after them is, if you are strong enough to see it, actually part of the pleasure of it all.

We humans have instincts to care for beings who are dependent on us, after all.

So imagine myself as serving that function in the lives of my friends, both offline and on, helps me to quell the evil voices in my head telling me that I am nothing but a liability to all who come in contact with me and…. well, everything that can lead to.

I’d still much rather be earning a living as a normal, tax-paying, decent citizen as opposed to being a burden on the British Columbia taxpayer (albeit a microscopic one), but at least thinking of myself as a pleasant pet who provides a companionable presence and amusement and occasional bits of adorkable incompetence (as well as. of course, my top notch analysis) makes me feel like there is, in fact, some point to me being alive and that I do, in fact, contribute to the world in some way.

Digging myself out of the deep hole which swallowed my self-worth for so long is taking a long time, but I am getting there, little by little, every day.

I even like myself some of the time now.

It’s a start.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.