“Hard to read” was a common phrase I heard growing up, and it continues even today. Hell, even one of my past therapists said that. I used to take it as a point of pride because I had control over the perception people had of me. What I’ve started acknowledging in therapy more recently is that this control was the result of amazingly fucked up childhood environments wrapped in the veil of a gifted boy with a temper, that almost no one could reach.
I think everyone can agree when I say, “what a fucking day.” My heart has been bleeding for Ukraine suffering under Russia, for the fear the world has, and for what the world may have to endure.
I commend Ukraine for standing up against the Russian army, for being defiant to the last. I commend the protesters in Russia for going against the will of an oligarch. I commend the Russian troops that surrendered because that’s not what they signed up for.
But my brain races. I fear what comes. I don’t want to weigh down any one particular person, so I figured that writing here and putting it out in the void that is the internet would be cathartic.
I never knew from what it’d be, but as I feel like things circle around me both inside and outside, the more I feel like it’s going to be true.
The worst part of this is, I feel like I will die alone.
tl;dr In Seattle and abroad, we are seeing events lined up to combine active military force, curfews, attempts to instigate a resurgence in COVID and familiar voter suppression tactics to slim down or kill the ability to vote later this year.
In April of 2015, I moved away from Arizona, eager to get away to some place new, and perhaps to get away from some aspects of myself. I thought getting into a new place would put me in a better spot mentally, because I knew I’d always wanted to move away from “home.”
I know I needed some quiet time on vacation, so I’ve opted out of going to the Viking village over the last few days. Yesterday, I went out and did some photography, and I was quite happy with that. Today, I left myself to my thoughts, because I really hadn’t had time to think about the despair or curiosities that were in my mind.
Some days, it is more difficult to go through those waiting thoughts than others.
This is inspired by a writing prompt found on Reddit, here.
” For centuries you’ve reaped humans when their time was up, never paying attention to their advancements in tech and healthcare, then one day every single hourglass just stops. “
I looked about, my eyes blinking in disbelief. I stood right near the Space Needle, looking around, and the sands had stopped for everyone. I held my ticket in my hand– I was intent on going up the Space Needle, but I looked around in disbelief.
“You’ve done it, my child,” the woman’s voice spoke. Goosebumps had risen over my skin, it had been ages.
I can’t emphasize how much I feel myself come back to center, whenever I come to this village, and to my friends. Perhaps some of these photos will show why.
Inside, you’ll find shots taken during a snowstorm, some night time shots, and shots of the indoor setups of Gudvangen.
There has been a lot of myself, and my connection to this world, that I have witnessed over the last two years. Some beliefs have been reinforced, but some new roots have taken hold in growing ideas, wishes. I feel like I know what I must do next, but I will have to work hard to get there.
Imagine a woman who worked at a fast food place while going to school to get a better education. She works nights, educates during the day and then comes home to a small trailer. She doesn’t get to eat much, and her downtime consists of things like laundry and cooking. She makes around $24,000 a year at one point, and is trying to make ends meet.
Now imagine she has two sons.
There is a sense of trepidation whenever I reach a crossroads at my life, but usually I have some form of control over which road I choose. This week, that is hardly the case.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” the demon said, coming into my door. “I’ve been stopping by for quite some time. I didn’t think you’d let me in.”
I eyed him quietly. He looked like someone I wouldn’t trust, someone that’d hold me back. But he looked normal. Looked like I would pass him on the street. He was wearing a button up shirt and some denim jeans and dress shoes. A bit upscale, but still casual. Business casual.
“Care for a drink?” I said, gesturing him inside and closing the door behind him. I pointed towards the sofa, inviting him in. His eyebrows rose, surprised at the hospitality.
“Sure,” he said. “Mead?”
“Of course,” I said. “I always treat my guests with the best of what I have. It is my hospitality.”
I am writing this as my flight goes over the snow-topped San Francisco Peaks that belong to Flagstaff. But my writing was delayed because I just passed over the tri-city area, and it took me a minute to realize that I was looking at the majority of my life from miles up in the sky, all summarized in a small area.
It’s a test, I am sure. Life is trying that press on me again, where it is trying my patience before I really move forward with the next bit of my life. It just hits in the small, right ways that it knows to, and I am increasingly frustrated with it.
I was at the gym tonight, and while I was doing my warm up and stretches, I looked up to one of the TVs to see coverage about ISIL/ISIS. Then, I started thinking about the things I have seen on Reddit about their victims, and who they’re killing, and the people they’ve paraded before putting into mass graves…
My blood started to boil. But it wasn’t just about that. I was looking at a part of the human race that has devolved into this kind of senseless intent. It feels like they are hiding behind the mask of Islam– they’re not fighting for it, they’re using it as an excuse to massacre people.
So, I am writing this from the cruising altitude for a Boeing 737-800 on my five hour flight to Boston. I managed to get the emergency exit aisle with only one other person for this five-hour flight, and I have plenty of room– probably the most I have ever had outside of first class. I have music in my ears, and I am well rested and ready to tackle the next work project.
But, I left Seattle. And I feel a bit of myself staying behind each time.
Sorry Phoenix, Seattle has won my heart out.
So, I’m running around in California right now, near San Jose. I decided after work today that I was gonna go to Hooters. I had thought on it a bit, and thought, Fuck it. Why not? Cute girls, and the food is passable and much cheaper than anything around me. So I went. I had stopped going there because one particular incident just made me disgusted with the people that typically attend, but I threw it out the window a bit ago, because it stirred some memories and emotions that helped me heal some.
Nothing eventful happened. I had a ten-piece of wings, a salad and a piece of pie. I chatted with the girl waiting on me about travel and what the rush hour was like around here, so I could gauge when to head back to my hotel. I got my check, and I was placing my card on it so it could be cashed out.
Not long after, I saw this guy walk in. He was Hispanic, wearing a “Patriot” shirt that he was occasionally checking on to make sure was clean, some cargo shorts and sandals. Older guy, thinning hair on top, and he was occasionally talking to himself and looking at different people in the restaurant with bewildered eyes. The waitress came up to him, and I could tell that she was slightly uncomfortable, albeit kind and polite. No doubt it wasn’t her first time dealing with someone who was off, but the results may have been radically different last time.
She got his order, and she returned briefly with a key lime pie. And he began eating it, and was still occasionally talking to himself and looking around while taking a few bits of his pie at a time. I figured he was savoring it.
But his eyes made me wonder what had happened. Was it something he had seen? A bad drug trip? My mind began to wonder, and I started placing myself in his shoes, and began to wonder how it must be for him day in and day out.
Sometimes, I wish I would not hunger– that I would not need food, or drink, and could live by exploration alone. That wherever I went, I’d stand against whatever elements could throw at me, but still be vulnerable to man and beast. My mortality only realized by the threat of something else living, and not my own need to live.
I was out shopping, and had managed to get most of my groceries loaded into the cart. I had picked up an extra-huge package of toilet paper because I didn’t feel like bearing the burden of using paper towels for a while. I had finished there, and went to the toothpaste aisle. I was needing a few new toothbrushes, and brushed myself past a few people as I approached them.
I had stooped over slightly to look at the bristle toughness. I typically went with mediums, and was looking for them. I found them. Then, out of nowhere, I stood still, and my mind wandered to points more recently in my life, within the last few years.
There’s so much that happened in my dream last night, and I can feel it slowly slipping my mind. It’s one of the few dreams I’ve had where it continued after I woke up a few times. (Hooray for drinking so much water.)
I made the decision last night to step away from social media indefinitely. It’s become apparent to me over the last few weeks that I have distractions setup for myself everywhere I go, and I am tearing them down one by one. This was one of those steps. I feel that I’ve been neglecting this website though. I’ve been neglecting sharing my views on life, and putting down what I think. The biggest benefit of this site, is for me to come back later and learn new things about what had happened before.
I think I’ve been avoiding writing this, even though I’ve needed to. But I feel it’s necessary to do it so I can reflect on it later and, maybe, use it to heal. To my future self, you made it through. But man, does it suck right now.
Let me get the words about the shutdown that have been stuck in my mind, out:
The GOP has decidedly held countless government jobs hostage in this shutdown until the Democrats drop the Affordable Care Act. The Republicans are making a point to tell the Democrats, “Drop the ACA, or these people aren’t going to get back to work because you’re not compromising.”
I’ve watched a lot of movies in my time, and I have seen many where bad guys go into a building, take the money, and hold people hostage demanding that they receive a getaway vehicle and additional money. They sometimes will even say that it will be the cop’s fault if a hostage dies, because they didn’t fulfill their end of the bargain. This does sound a bit familiar in the shutdown, doesn’t it?
A common domestic abuse case might revolve around the victim always being blamed for the hole in the wall that the abuser caused. To recompense, the victim may be told they’re not getting certain things. It certainly fits the criteria for a domestic abuse situation. It also sounds a lot like what is happening with the shutdown on Capitol Hill.
Leaving Bavaria was a rather hard thing to do this morning. We had the chance to meet Axel, but it was for only one night. Despite the short stay, we seemed to make a tradition out of tinkering with something. This time it was with practicing making a VLAN. It didn’t go well, but we recovered gracefully. But leaving Bavaria on the whole is a very bitter thing.
I am listening to Opeth’s “Watershed” album, hence the odd title. But I feel like over the last few days with good friends and food, we found something in the back yard of the world that is a shed of happiness. Lilith has recovered from a head cold, we find ourselves at the peak of happiness (I’ve used that word a lot already), and in bliss when we walk outside.