Neither of us knows what the hell we are doing
I’m a punch drunk husband and you’re my slap happy wife
We fumble through love and we’ll stumble through life
We (–) all our dreams and hocked all our charms
But as long as we fall into each other’s arms
And both of us just kind of lean on each other
To our great astonishment, we make it together
And continue to drunkenly waltz through our lives
Our cheeks pressed real close, our hearts side to side
And nothing we do will ever be right
We’ll be doing it wrong, but we’ll be doing it with style
And I’ll get punched by your dad, and you’ll be curse by my mother
But why would we care if we still have each other?
And at the end of the night, we’ll stagger on home
And finally pass out together, alone.
Well that went a lot better than the first time.
Looking back, the first time I tried to write this frigging thing, I started writing before I had any clear idea what I was writing. Just the general notion.
This time, the words starting coming to me while I was taking one of my ever so numerous pees, and I finished up then wandered over to Mister Computer to get as many of them as I could.
And I am quite pleased with that. Before now I almost always thought of stuff, enjoyed it in the moment, then filed and forgot it.
Actually interrupting what I was doing to write it down was too much of a disruption. Way easier to just mindlessly retain it with all the other latent ideas.
I have quite the extensive encyclopedia of them. If i could print, collate, curate, and package them all. I’d make a mint.
But I have been loosening up lately. My mind has been far, far too rigid and inflexible and bounded by fear for a very long time and that is no way for a healthy organism to live. So I am shaking out the rust, cracking the crust off the backhoe, and breaking some new fucking ground for once.
No predictions as to timescale, though. I’ve recently realized that I am way too future focused. I’ve known that for years but only in a vague way. Now I get the picture.
It’s like trying to live life looking through a telescope. There’s looking into the future because you want to control your destiny and there’s looking into the future because you can’t handle the present or the past, and that shit’s a recipe for failure.
Because how can you get anywhere in life if you never look at it directly? That future you escape to isn’t real. It’s just another fantasy realm in science fiction clothing and as nice as those are to visit, you sure as fuck can’t live there.
No matter how high you fly in your mind, your ass is still here on Earth, and that’s where everything you want in life can be found.
So the solution is simple : get the fuck up and do shit.
Everything else is just a complication.
More after the break.
Water to Dubai
You know how the city-state of Dubai gets its water?
From a never-ending series of water trucks.
Just a steady line from the nearest oasis to the actual city. Every hour of every day features an ant like line of trucks traveling between the two points in a nonstop bucket line trying to empty the oasis into the city.
Well I feel like one of those trucks today because my bladder infection has reduced the capacity of my bladder by about half, which had doubled the frequency (at least!) of my goddamned trips to the bathroom to pee, and it’s really getting on my nerves.
Especially because A) the infection is making urination somewhat painful, especially right after I finish when it feels like someone’s been using my guts as snow tires, and B) I have been drinking a lot of water because my body seems to want it real bad.
As in, I pour myself my usual 1.5 liter glass of water, start taking a drink, and by the time I am done the thing’s half gone.
I suck at listening to my body, but even I can figure that one out.
I seem to be improving. Knock on wood. I get my appetite back now and then, but eating is still really tricky because no matter how hungry I am, there’s a good chance that when the first bit of food hits my stomach, my stomach will clam up on me and the rest of the meal will only get into me if I force-feed myself.
And God do I hate doing that. Really makes me wish they would invent the Jetsons meal in a pill already.
Pills I can do. It’s food that troubles me currently.
Then again, the problem might be that I keep eating Smartfood popcorn. Popcorn is not an easy to digest food. I should not be restarting my digestive system on hard mode.
I should be eating nice gentle easy to handle foods, like noodles and pasta and soup and such. Low impact foods I can use to build back my strength, and THEN build my way back up my usual high impact diet.
Oh. And I probably should not drink carbonated beverages. Should not be adding gas to the fomenting cauldron that is my lower G.I. tract.
Never been quick to change my habits. I am a creature of them, after all.
But once I get my grocery delivery tomorrow, I will be in a better position to behave sensibly. My supplies are low right now and I have a bunch of stuff showing up between 7 am and 9 am tomorrow.
Of course, knowing them, half of what I ordered won’t show up or will show up wrong.
But I definitely told them NO SUBSTITUTIONS, so if one grain of sugar shows up, I will be seriously pissed.
Being sick has made me real cranky. Best not give me an outlet.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.