Poetry and Wisdom from the Lost and Found?

Coffee!

I love coffee, and all that the drink entails.
Mood swings to the nearly divine positive
and a tail spin not unrelated to obverse mania,
unitl another cup or, and better, carafe is proffered.

In heaven, I will drink only fresh fine coffee.
Which, like on earth, in heaven, I will share.
Come to my fire, sit in my simple mud hut,
but bring your own cup, I will not be in a mansion.

Given grace, knowledge, and wisdom, true and pure.
Having a body that works and a mind that is unfettered.
I will then be what I am and my servant will be true.
That servant will be me, and that servant will serve you.

Ok, I’ll stop there. I just had to try. I will never ever be a poet. And, I write poetry to prove it. I wonder if that is why atheists do what they do? Oh well, I do not understand anything well, it seems. At least I enjoy what ignorance remains to me and the clueless nature of the innocence I can muster as I proceed forward into what I know to be a harsh reality. Whistling past the graves? No. Embracing the whole nature of it all, with hope if with certainty, sincerely, and in good faith? Perhaps. That is my choice if not my way.

Today, the locks, tomorrow, the world? Well, something of that nature. The new locks have been installed. I have learned another trick or two about home security measures. And, I am using some of my old techniques to ensure security. Do not worry, none of the lethal means are being employed lest an innocent be harmed. The guilty, I do not care. Still, this is supposed to be a civil world to which I returned home. And, by heaven, I will still kill to keep it that way. I said I try to be good guy, not a nice guy.

I am still upset, however. Even after having “cared for” my computer, I find that it is compromised. Whatever is doing this is not showing up in anti-virus and anti-spy-ware software (top of the line, so it is said, and from two different companies), so it is merely better than the detection or using a method that is not in the detection line-up. Government work? Doubtful. First, I have no doubt the government bots are at work, these have been unobtrusive and tasteful. Well, we are at war, think about it. Even G.I. mail has been and probably is monitored. Why would I be so special to be unfettered, as a civilian? Beyond, I hope they are using these methods and leaving political correctness out of doing serious work. I do suspect who and how I am being hacked, I just do not have the means of detecting, tracing back, so, knowing with certainty. Further, I am sure that whatever hardware or software I purchase or install, it will not matter. After looking very closely at the security of routers and Linux, I realize that a determined hacker can and will break my system. Further, I believe the hacking is top grade. Lastly, I believe I am on some hacker’s short list. Privacy is lost to me, and to any who disagree, I do believe. I am really considering going off-line at this point. It is not necessarily about privacy, but personal and financial safety. I will be calling my ISP today, and asking them about this issue. Barring a good response, I may no longer be here, soon. Still, I need to un-register my online existence. I do not wish to have ghost traces for others to use in my absence and in my name. Blogging has been fun, but this type of intrusion is not. How can I tell? When I am doing something on my machine and the key strokes are two or three behind my actual typing, when my mouse is unresponsive for spits and spats, when one of my various email accounts are “busy” when I check e-mail yet my connection is on and crystal through the browser, and when settings on my computer change, changes I did not introduce. Even in Microsoft Word, though I keep setting the thing to not capitalize letters at what it sees as the beginning of sentences, it keeps turning back to that. Lots of evidence, little insight, both equal a surety of insecurity.

Oh, an update on my apology letter. I have received a letter from my former (on her part) friend. She is “discerning” the matter. I can understand that. Perhaps we are poison to each other. Then again, what friend can a rattle snake expect but a pit viper? No, she is not a pit viper and I am not a rattle snake (mostly, ha, I crack me up), only perhaps to each other? We have both dug in deep, but in different directions, for different reasons. We are entrenched, surrounded, out-gunned, against it, and often. Sometimes in some places, it is difficult to know friend from foe, and that is more difficult when we are not even sure we are friend. Call words, passwords, hails, and sing-alongs work only until bullets begin to fly, and we go past exhaustion, pain, hunger, thirst, and home-sickness. Having “treated” our mind to their toxins, everyone becomes the enemy. This, oddly, is why I try to maintain this relationship. Not to prove that this is not true for me, only to try to reach beyond it. To show love to one who may hold a dagger, meant for my jugular, in her off hand. Maybe it is socially and personally suicidal, maybe though, it is purely hopeful, loving, and giving to another who knows my world, if across the sex, mind, and heart aisle. Yes, I did say I try to proceed innocently, even armed with seeming foreknowledge from past realities. Perhaps I deserve what I get, perhaps I created the dilemma, but I can only go from here, the place I am, nyet? I do live in fear and oddly hope, partly for the promise of a beautifully horrific death. I believe it is mine for the living. I do not believe my death will be easy or nice, hopefully though, my death will have meaning, real meaning.

All in all, life is still good. Bothered, lonely, threatened, and against it, I am actually comfortable here. Struggling to learn, fighting to be free and private, but quite happy to have the opportunity. I still see and know love, for others and between others. I still have hope, if doubtful, hope wins easily. I still love puppies and kittens, pretty women well but good women better, fast cars, rock and roll, men as allies and potential brothers-in-arms, and good company (oh, and that dratted pipe, and a snifter of fine scotch, oh, and a few other goodies). As well, I am with God, as I know how. He is with me, when I can know or not, and whether I am being right or not. Even if He is not my Santa, that is not why I worship Him, so that is good too. I am home, with Him, if not a home that is in step with a modern world. All is good, and it is always a good day to die because of it.

Be hale, be kind, be loving. If you do not have that in you, know I lend what of it I own freely, save for the fee of sharing these gifts as you may.