No haiku, no nap, what to do?

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Haiku is off for the week.  No fuss, I know that real life can just grab any of us by the scruff and toss us in over our heads.  And, one thing leads to another, and it happens.  If anything, I offer empathy for those going through that in their own ways.  I have been thinking of a little pick-up haiku, like when a basketball game would be canceled due to weather I would try to get a game going locally.  I'm thinking about it.

No nap today, thankfully.  I am planning to get to bed in an hour or two, then try to get up at the 5:00-6:00 time, with the 8:00 alarm as backup.  I just never know if I keep trying.  It's been hot, or seemed hot, today.  Bagels for breakfast and supper might be the cause, though I don't think so.  Still, I've pulled out meat to thaw to try and fix that.  I just can't keep up on food well, lately.  I had stuff that carried me, and clean pots and pans for a while.  I'm out and out.  I'll have to figure something out before long.

The next thing I have to be ready for is on the 5th, then the 12th, then the 18th, then December 2nd I believe, then the 16th of that month.  Other than that, no big bumps or hurdles and, sadly in a way, I am glad for it.  I just can't handle much.  I don't even know if I can make those.  I have a few days before I reset my medicines.  I am thinking about setting up one week as is, then stepping a quarter step up (to 3/4 dose) the following week, then just pushing full dose when I reset.  Oh, sure, you might here some yowling and whimpering from my cave.  Don't fret.  And... this will be it.  I will be back to full dose in less than two months... Normally a much longer journey.  Just... getting it over with is my game plan.  I've certainly had worse, just not in such a way that I remembered it or over such a long course, since I was much younger and healthier, actually.  Ha!  Those were the days.

What I would do if I could.

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No lion.  If I had it to me, had a means and the availability, I would go horseback riding.  I am sure there are places you can rent a horse.  Trail horses are notoriously lame rides.  And, well, my size... I don't want to kill a poor animal.  It's been a while, but riding, as I remember it, is like nothing else.  Enough of it and you will get strength back.  Some people suppose that riding a horse is like riding in a car.  Not so.  You use muscles you didn't know to stay in the saddle, control the horse especially when you teach the horse knee commands, and perhaps get to even lean commands and other little tricks.  Yes, I rode often enough that I even learned how to teach roughly broken horses to listen for, then obey, non-typical commands.  I made myself useful, and loved it.

A mule, a horse, either one, if they have been trained at least a bit, would make for an excellent bit of exercises, assuming the animal is large enough for me.  But more, once I get familiar with such an animal, the controls are somewhat automatic, so simply enjoying the air rush by when galloping, or the odd perspective only being on a horse can give while walking, and the collusion of animal and man in getting from point a to point b is simply a joy.  Some men like "bikes", others fast cars and I have enjoyed the latter.  But nothing beats being in the saddle, to me.  The scents, the feel, the exercise, the mastery.  Uhrm, assuming the animal learns to see you as the boss.  Best get that sorted out immediately.  Then you can become pals, perhaps.  I remember, as the picture shows, of what happens if the order is off.  The worst was a mule who walked back like that for 15 feet or more.  Scared me to the bone, so I rode it some more!  It all worked out.  Not so much that I'm not a quitter, just not always all that bright!

Not sure I remember how it all goes though?  Oh, I'm sure I could figure it all out again.  I do know, if it became a regular event, I would buy into a pair of cowboy boots again.  While they have no other proper use on a man's foot, in the saddle they are priceless.  Never wore spurs, didn't own chaps, though I did have a cowboy hat and boots.  Might not have looked like some picture perfect rodeo rider or cowpoke, I certainly played the role.  Hee-Yaah!

In spite of it all?

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Regardless of want, need, ability, or incapacity?  Something grows in me.  This music found me this morning.  Sometimes I can look for stuff for hours, days, weeks, and never find it.  Some days, without looking... it finds me.  As is the case this morning.  This song perfectly... fits... that... wellspring of something.  Turning a corner to better days or just glancing around one corner as a chance event as I stumble on for some unknown length of time as is I cannot say.  Still, the warmth from the sensations are enough to... take some of the edge off.

It's sort of working.

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Medicine is hit or miss.  I just can't worry, only do what I can with what I have.  It was closer to midnight than 23:00 before I made it to bed.  And while no amount of focus, what little there was to be had at bedtime, could wake me before the alarm, the alarm itself did stir me from slumber.  A bit of coffee first thing, which I needed.  Yesterday was coffeeless as I hadn't ground the beans in a bit, and simply couldn't get to it.  Minor headache and sluggishness combined and ensued.  Later in the day I finally ground a fresh batch and had a cup which settled things.  Cold coffee remnants are good enough for me.  Better than fresh and hot, usually.  It's still not cold enough out there that hot coffee is needed as a brace against the natural notions.

What to do today?  You know, I simply don't know.  Right now I am just, and simply, and purely, breathing which takes me from moment to moment.  Trapped, indeed, inside this prison of flesh.  My body, I think, is somewhat able.  I simply cannot reach out and grab the controls.  Then again, for all I really know, the body is weaker than I know.  I never can tell until a window pops and I can manipulate the controls and then, eventually or quickly at times, get positive or negative feedback.

I received an addition to my prayer list.  A man had a heart attack, and will be going in to surgery.  Prayers, of course, followed.  If any of you have extra room in your prayer list for another, I would ask you to add him.  All I know is that he is Michelle W.'s father, he had a heart attack, and he will be going in for bypass, or double, or more, surgery.  Small print makes it difficult to read, more so in the morning, but...  His heart is function is critical, down to 25%, they hope to improve it.  I pray also for the family.

After reading that I realized... that is better than my heart has been for twenty four of my last twenty five years.  Depending on which doc talks to me, I am told I have 30-38% function now.  Sometimes things don't make sense.  At least I can more than sympathize with him.  Though, I think luckily, surgery can actually help him, potentially.  I do, strongly, pray that it works.  It's a rough place to be.

Hmm... medicine, then the girls fed in about an hour, and... who knows what else.  Probably just breathing until I sleep again, hopefully after a full day awake, if maybe a nap if need be.  Good day.

Grumpy body, sore mind, tired spirit?

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Hey, my reality is that I juggle what ought to be left in certain forms.  I wish I could help you help me to not be so very different.  The thing is, what is, is, as am I, as is this.

At 23:00, bedtime is past due.  I didn't really mean to stay up, I just didn't see to sleep.  Well, and when I did see, an hour ago, I couldn't just jump to that.  Jumping to sleep?  Well, crawl perhaps.  Work with me, I have a very tenuous grasp.  Understand, or don't, I can't help you help you.  Not much.

A nap and some thinking.

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I just couldn't stay awake the whole day today.  Then again I have been stretching to do what had become a normal day not long ago, or more normal.  I meant to be down by noon but the lack of ability to focus on several things at a time didn't see me to sleep until a bit after 14:00.  I set the alarm for 17:00, hoping to be up in just a few hours.  Good thing I set the alarm, and even then it was tough to pull out.  I will probably be up a bit later tonight.  I reset the alarm back to my 8:00 setting.  And, I will still aim for 5:00-6:00 in my mind.  If I need a nap tomorrow, hopefully by noon.  Otherwise it's like a too late nap snack, throwing sleep supper off.

My girls have their winter coats and they are absolutely delicious to pet.  They do keep themselves pristine, usually, anyway.  But with the longer fur...  YUM!  Sam has already started getting used to being in the cave more.  If it looks good, or if she begs, I try to get her out.  She is such a nature, outdoors, girl that winter really gets on her nerves.  I feel for her, but there is little I can do over what I do.  Sassy?  Winter to summer, spring or fall, she loves being right in here.  Food is easier to catch, there are no mean other cats or animals, the weather is always somewhat moderate, and poppa loves her.  Plus she has learned to be a lap cat and that is good enough, when she isn't hunting flys or chippering about a bird out the window.  She is still a little heavier than Sam, and always will be, but through strict but fair feeding she has lost some of her... excess.  And, yeah, when she is walking on me I notice!  Loved her either way, and really only worked on this for her own good.

I dreamed during the nap, but can't remember exactly.  It may have been about something on my mind, or what is on my mind got confused with it, I am not sure.  This latest "doctor" visit, though, is what either took over the dream or was the dream.  I realized, whatever the case, that almost every new "doctor" hits me with some serious shit about not doing their wishes.  Every one of them, save the last (a P.A., and a reasonable one) tries to clot me over the head for not doing what I am told by "my betters".  Despite the obvious fact that "my betters" are usually wrong from start to stop and only accidentally started treated my real health problem.  This one included giving me information that my medical staff are my employees.  Thanks for the info, doc, but not only did I know that, I have been using that to my best advantage and reasonable medical care for longer than she has probably been practicing as a form of "doc".  I didn't get pissy about it, no need.  Glad she knows her place, if she would only accept it.  Not my problem.

I used to prefer P.A.s and N.P.s (physician assistant/nurse practitioner).  That was back when they understood that they didn't [fucking] know it all.  They used to, to a man or woman, understand some things, like humility, working with patients, and understanding that the drug companies and doctors don't always, or even often, have a real clue.  Now?  Now they, like Zero, think they know it all and think we should just shut up and do what they tell us.  Thankfully, by law and practice, they have been assured that they can't just force us to do what they think is best, despite it not working.  Why am I not seeing psychiatry, she demanded?  As I told her, she ought to know more about heart disease, psychiatry, and know that trying to treat end stage heart disease with psychotropics was a non-starter.  She didn't even blanch.  Probably didn't even get it then.  Fucking Zerobot, too, probably.

Remember folks, Zerocare is based on the very care I am receiving.  So far, though, in the V.A., they can't deny services, like they already are on medicare and medicade, because they don't like that I don't absolutely follow their commands.  I saw my friend told he has a few years to live without a heart valve replacement, but that since he smokes the only surgeon available has refused to service him.  That will only get worse.  For such doctors, the only way to get a better gig eventually is to only have a larger number of positive outcomes.  Which means they will choose who to serve.  And that is as things stand.  Zerocare exacerbates that behavior.  It rewards good outcomes, not service rendered, and hugely.

Oh, but smoking, you say, is bad for you?  I won't say what I want to say.  What I will ask is, isn't being fat, or old, or sick with other conditions, also bad for you?  Do you think it will stop with smokers?  What about you would make a doctor not want to serve you?  My guess is any doctor could find a reason to not serve a lot of people.  Now I will say it.  Piss off, hater.  I have a friend who has pretty much been consigned to die because of your fucking prejudice.  This song is for you!

Well, fine. Let a woman say it.

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I do say things in the way men say things.  And a specific subset of men.  I don't cut corners, I don't coddle, I don't speak softly, for the most part.  I don't beat around the bush, I don't negotiate on lies.  I get that it turns many of the weaker men and most women off.  So, I'll let a woman who sees and understands, say it.  Oh, and watch these neutered men trip over themselves trying to uphold the foolishness that has lead to this social problem.  Another reason to trust Fox about as much as you trust any media.

h/t Libertarian Republic

One thing I thought was funny, while following the video, was the notion that 29% of men think positively of marriage.  I thought to myself... Self?  That is about the percentage of "me" that wants to get married, right?  And, yeah, that is about right.  Give or take, depending on the day, and all.  Too funny.  At least hereabouts.

Dr. Helen Smith blogs, writes books, gives talks, goes on television and air, among other things.  I must say, I am amazed by her.  She doesn't have the skin in the game the way men does, on a personal level.  But she realizes the problems on the cultural level, through her male relatives, and she does have both empathy when that is possible, sympathy when that is all she has, and a reasonable mind for these things.  If you are a woman, and really want to explore the problems, or a lesser man who is caught up in the lies and the nightmare of the world as it is, take a look.

Myself?  I don't need empathy, sympathy, or help.  I have never, myself, had a problem.  I do what I do, or don't.  I know what I want, and if I could get my legs to work, would get it.  My problem isn't with women, or law, or any such.  My problem is simply with health.  On a personal level.  On a social, cultural, level, however, I see the huge problems.  I do read her works, but merely out of curiosity, as I will occasional notice something dealing with Game theory.  Comparing notes, or in this case seeing how a seemingly well reasoned women takes things or how she thinks.  For many, who are stuck in the hell and not familiar with cutting their own path, her material is quite good.  And soft enough for the weak.  I do respect her.

Why so little regarding politics here?

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To be honest, because it really doesn't matter.  Hold your horses, I'm not saying the results, effects, and costs do not matter.  What I am saying is, after having czars, scandal after scandal, the obvious emasculation of the Supreme Court, bailout after federal splurge, illegal overreach by the executive branch, exploding federal deficits, and printing of money, a little thing like insurance problems isn't going to do a thing.  People, politicians, those in charge of making sure the system works, have failed so often and so spectacularly that there is no reason to believe any of the mechanisms in place to keep the system from being destroyed and turned into a tyranny from within work.  The only thing, so far, that keeps people somewhat safe from an all out tyranny is that some small, aging, part of a soon to be minority aspect of society is still armed.  If you consider it is mostly the older men of that soon-to-be minority who are armed, then you must understand time is nearly up for the America you knew.  There is no reason to become fussy about it now.  People can't even handle the truth about little things, easily seen things, how would they handle the bigger truths?

I watched a vid by a guy, a white guy, from South Africa.  He spoke of having become a modern white South African, embracing equality, but secretly fearing blacks there.  He decided to "get in touch" with blacks, and see how that worked.  So, he went and lived in their slums in his city.  He found it refreshing.  He learned to live with them and love them.  And he became an out and out reformed man.  Me?  I hope he survives the slaughter of his fellow whites, but is put in a cell where his vid is the only thing that plays, over and over, 24 hours a day.  Some things are bound for horror, decay, and death.  We all are, but we shouldn't be aiming for it.  Americans, like this man, have chosen death.  As have Europeans.  They are racing for it, giving up everything for a little fun on the way.

There is no reason to speak of politics in an obviously broken system.  So, generally, I won't.  Get used to the new paradigm.  And, to get as ahead as you can, get in line for whatever you are forced to accept.  That is what most have been doing, and continue to do, up and down the line.  Understand, the more you accept, the more will be expected of you.  What will you sell next?  What will you give up next?  There isn't a way out of this.  I saw it long ago.  That is why, more than anything, I am willing to go through hell to get back to health.  Not just so that I am not murdered by medicine, although I do have suspicions that it is... a thought on their minds, to hold costs down and shut up a dissenter, but to get out of this sinking nation before even healthy citizens are rounded up, arrested and imprisoned or outright executed for not believing what they are told to believe.  Most of you don't believe, can't believe, in spite of having watched it for the last decade.  It is coming.

Just... so you know.

Not the greatest of days, but worthier than most lately.

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I am a bit sort.  I know I slept on at least on arm wrong last night.  By the way, how can you, as I suspect, sleep on both arm wrong enough, for long enough, to have both of them out of sorts?  Gah!  I am tired, and if not exactly grumpy, at least just a bit moody this morning.  My physical and mental complaints are mild, but there are a number of them.  And I am somewhere between too tired, over slept, and unsure.  Oh, go on, laugh.  I certainly chuckle, like the baby that is unhappy but none of the normal things seems to please.  Just gotta be slightly off sometimes.

Oh, but it doesn't end there.  On days like today, and yesterday, when I can wake up about when I wanted (a little after 6:00, and without the alarm, which was set for 8:00 but I turned off after checking the time), after being awake a full day the day before, and have most of my equipment almost working?  I love waking up.  Getting to fuss a bit for non-specific reasons, if it isn't everyday, or all the time, is fine too.  If this was as good as it got, but was regular, I would take it in a heartbeat.  You... really don't know.

I haven't seen a window to get to much.  But these last few days, I keep looking for it.  Perhaps only one task will get done.  And maybe it will be days after that before the next task, maybe a week.  That IS my life.  I simply haven't quit in spite of impossible odds and probably no way to ever win.  My mind holed up in my body for so long, for whatever reasons, that my body isn't mine anymore.  It's like a vacation rental.  And when it is open I can't, even then, always take advantage of it.  I know damned well that our body is not our own.

Never mind.  I'll keep looking for that window of opportunity.  I have a few things on my list, top things.  And I'll keep trying to stay up whole days, getting to bed on time, waking up reasonably, and figuring out a bite or two of food a day.  In another time I might well be living under a bridge, warehoused in an infirmary then given meds to keep me there, who knows.  I don't have much, but I do have opportunity, free will, and am not blocked one way or the other.  Plus I haven't given up.  Later.

Not a bad day, again.

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I can't honestly remember how late I stayed up.  I know past 19:00, but how far past is anyone's guess.  I did a rough estimate, then added extra hours, in setting the alarm.  I know my goal was a 4:00 to 6:00 rise, but the alarm was set for 8:00, I think.  Which, probably, means I gave myself 12 hours to sleep.  All I can do is aim things.  Sometimes I pop out of bed and can't sleep more and very early.  Sometimes I can't wake, even with plenty of sleep and the alarm.  As was, I am pretty sure I woke at about 5:00 or so, then rolled out at about 5:30.  Must have had a little nap in there, and unusual but not quite rare thing.

I have been awake since then, making it over a twelve hour day again.  And it will go a little longer.  I will keep the porch light lit and be ready for any possible trick or treaters until... 20:00?  Something like that.  I did get a shower taken, and dressed more properly, for hosting goblins, witches, super heroes, and at least one cowboy.  Most, locally, have a "trunk-or-treat" type of deal, so not many go around.  Still, I am ready.  Handing out gobs of candy too.  Such polite kids, they just want one or two.  No, a Doom sized handful, a second if their surprised look is good enough.  I do like kids.  Plus, I got my fair share when I used to go.  I just wish I had been able to get my costume in order.  Perhaps next year.

The nice thing about a small community is that even as a bit of an outsider I am not a stranger.  Even as a strange being, a giant perhaps, there has been enough adult contact that there is no fear of this ogre.  Some of the kids even like me.  They might well make fun of me, but... been there done that.  It's how they figure things out.  It's how they compare something new to what they know.  Plus... good to be a brat once in a while.  I do it myself, if I try to cut it just a bit, mostly.  Candy and plenty of it, dollars if I run out.  Should be good this year.

I'll be up a bit, but I think I am done for the night here.  Oh, but Happy Halloween.

It's 20:35 and I am calling it.  No doorbell for 20 minutes and it is getting late.  I'll keep clothes nearby, but the light will be out so that should be that.  Then again, the great pumpkin?  A fifteen hour day?  I'll take it.  I'll also turn the alarm back to what it was and still try to get up about the same time I did this morning.  Hey, a guy can try.  Good night.

Halloween? Happy? Fine. A story.

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Smith, as he was commonly known, or Madonna in some instances among his peers, as a fine, a price, for his driven intense perfectionism, was a simple man.  At least as he saw things.  Some men seemed to be smarter, some stronger, some faster, some more crafty, and so on.  These things were not his concern.  If he need deal with such men, he simply preferred to know the difference and deal with them in another venue or at least realize he would potentially lose.  He didn't like to lose, but if it didn't impact his missions in life it wasn't so much of an issue.  Driven by the magic that drives all men, to enjoy life a bit but to do something with his life he simply did what he did the best and as well as he could.

The small life, in Mid-America, that brought him from boy to man, had taught him much.  He was a fighter, an athlete of some small renown in the smallsvilles he had lived, and a scholar at one point and should he find a reason for such.  Mostly he was looking for a place in which to carve out a life for himself, and who knows... maybe a family.  Women were easy, there was no reason to be hasty about choosing.  His life had already made him a hard man, a strong man, perhaps even a clever man.  Not a good man, perhaps, but then, who was he wondered.

He found his place, or at least a place, for the time being.  Working with other men like himself.  Focused men, interested in pulling out the stops so long as the payoff was good enough, and willing to work harder than most, learn, teach, share, and do.  The toys were good, the camaraderie was first class, travel and... women of all sorts, new and exciting, from time to time.  Training was intense but it was well within his interest and fit his personality.

In the training, when he wasn't puking from excesses, shivering for cold and in slight fear of death, or comatose in sleep from sheer exhaustion, he laughed at the notion.  Immortal, they said.  They were forging the next undying group of men, they suggested.  We will make you unstoppable.  They, or his compatriots and mockingly, memory is blurred on that, taught him lines like, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil.  For I am the meanest son of a bitch in the valley", among others.  He took it seriously, when he wasn't laughing at the hubris.  Most of the time he laughed, until he needed it to hump the next mountain, swim the next ball-busting distance, or move some body numbing distance at speed.

He saw a bit of that life he trained to know.  Too much as it turned out.  It took the life out of him, in every way, but did not end him.  Further, something else had crept into him, a type of death.  He knew his life was over, the simple life he had wanted, the joys in life he had found, the brotherhood, even a possible woman.  All gone but him.  He sought, since the sleeping death was not ending him, to... hurry the process.  Attempt after attempt, on top of what the world and his body had thrown at him.  He simply could not, would not, die.

Then, in a terrible dream, he realized it.  He had, indeed, unlike his brothers, been made immortal.  He would never die.  No matter how wounded, or ill.  No matter his intent or folly or lack of care or what accident might befall him.  No matter his age.  He would not die.  While he had truly become the meanest son of a bitch in the valley, he became truly afraid.  For beside that, he was the only one in the valley.  Deserted and forgotten, alive and yet not.  And should he live, which he does, so it is to this very day.

Wow!

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Thirteen hours and counting.  I may try to call my mother then hit it.  I could go for more, but this is the first day, I think, that has been over eight hours, half of my "days" only being four hours, in some week(s).  I could push into pain, but I'd like to not do that today.  And I am satisfied with this.  It was natural.  Pushing it might upset the applecart.  Wonderful.

Up all day, since... 6:00?

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Something like that.  And I am still doing well enough that I will simply keep at it.  I might not be getting to much, but... I'm making do as I can.  I am staying aware, mostly.  I found a couple of posts I simply did not remember posting.  Thankfully I was fine with them.  One of them was when I was trying to stay awake and having a rough time of it.  I didn't even remember the music to it.  Haunting.  I'm glad I created that post.  It's just so odd to not remember anything.  Yes, I did respond to a comment on that post, but I do that usually without necessarily reviewing the post unless something in the comment suggests something I don't remember from the post.  Then again, I'm not sure my comments always make sense.  I don't always, I suppose, get what is being suggested.  I think I do, but I can't be sure.  Like a blind man who is almost certain where his jacket is until the time it isn't there.

I am hoping that today is the beginning of me getting back out and up.  Remember, this is only the half way mark, even so.  I have another horrid step to take to get back up to full dosage of medication.  I don't think I will be ready this next time that I am to redo the medicine set.  That first time unnerved me something awful.  But, ready or not after that, I will be upping the dose.  While I don't have an extremely short memory this time, it is long enough that two weeks isn't enough recover but four weeks will be.  I sort of chuckle at that notion.  I know I will only be ready, and possibly full of bravado regarding the next increase in dosage because I have a poor memory, especially regarding pain.  I wonder if my mother(s) knew about that and used it to advantage... girlfriends?  No, no complaints.  I understand that to get things done, sometimes, little... devices are used.

I am sure, from several recent posts, that some women must wonder how the hell I ever had even one woman, let alone many.  I promise, I have not gotten grumpier in my age, I've always been this way.  Well, the first thing I would suggest is that women do not understand their own system.  Women, from my experience, do not like weak-kneed men.  Wrong, right, they will probably disagree on some/many things, but that isn't the point.  Women test men, for a number of things.  Often they don't realize they are doing it.  It leads to fights.  It usually leads to kissing and making up, if the man passes those tests... or nauseated disentanglement if he doesn't.  Urhm, it might take a few days, but women come back on board and just accept that they don't agree, but that their man is strong enough without resorting to violence to deal with her and she feels secure that he will deal with other problems similarly well.  Fitness testing.

Which, for me, always worked well.  I like to debate.  I like to be aggressive, generally preferring being assertive.  I don't need violence to "win" (even if I am wrong, and win anyway, though I haven't been so hush).  I enjoy when a woman decides to not talk to me for a while, too.  I'm really easy to please, no violent unless she crosses that line, then it's just a paddling, and I truly do like women, sort of.  Mostly.  I'm not that harsh, I simply can be, and have certain points that I won't negotiate.  Women find these, and learn to not disturb them unless they are doing fitness trials, or feeling like losing a war of words.  I, likewise, learn her... areas of contention.  Yum!

On another topic, has anyone else gotten the sense that food quality has declined significantly in the last three to five years?  I am guessing it does have something to do with how this admin is handling things through the FDA and other agencies, but I don't have anything on that.  Sugar is now in everything.  I used to be able to find bread without sugar, no longer, and for some years now.  Other things that didn't have sugar are gone.  Flavor is also reduced.  Meat simply seems off.  If it were something I noticed for a short while, I would assume it was a physical low causing me to... not have much for taste bud function.  But it's not.  Food simply isn't as tasty as it was.  Yes, I do believe there is a purpose for it.  No, I don't believe it should be done without people's consent.  No, I actually don't think it is for health reasons, at all.  Just curious if anyone else has been thinking along such lines.

Little editing of late.  I have the focus to write, from time to time, but not always to check the writing.  I just don't have it, or not right away.  Hmm, later. 

Haiku Monday - Leaf/Leaves

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Serendipity won the contest last week.  She covers her superintendence regarding the contest here.  I don't want to let two weeks go, and caught the contest quickly.  I have my first three written, being just in the perfect mood, right before crashing again.  Sleep has been on the menu and unavoidable the last few days.  And back I will go, but first...

green to purple, vary
life for owner, and others-
come and go, again

by many bushels!
in the way or soon to be
broom, blower, chidlren

dazzling flora brought
color and shape, breath and wood
charming gift from earth

siblings of a sort

leaves as our cells ~ come and go

long lives - yet so short

Laughing? Doubtlessly, easily.

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For the first fifteen years of my illness I was much closer to catatonia than anything else.  When I would, for brief moments, pop out, I would live life as fully as possible.  Especially as I learned that this was going to be an ongoing problem.  Most of my life was lived in quiet nothingness, at least as far as the rest of the world thought.  They honestly didn't know if everything stopped, body, mind, whatever else there is.  The medical people always wanted to know what I was thinking, like a woman.

On one occasion, for all reasonable understanding through observation, I slept for nearly a year.  Actual a bit more, a year and three months or thereabouts.  Waking several times a week, and then living as everything was normal for a few hours.  Then back to sleep.  Against ward rules, they allowed me to have a mini television and game system, as it was the only thing that could hold my focus, and keep me awake if only a few more hours each week.  Even in my worst throws, I had... a way with folk, and rules.  *grins*

Some thought I was, or had become, a mental simpleton.  They did check for brain damage and much else, all save the heart it seems.  Tumor?  Brain malfunction?  Retardation?  Nothing was ever found.  They were even puzzled that, deep inside my brain, all the correct forms were seen.  Autistic?  I just didn't present anything that they could diagnose.

All you see here is no more, or less, than what was going on inside.  I was fully alive, and well, if frustrated by my inability to act.  Shut off, as if in an attic, but of my own flesh.  I did learn to enjoy myself, mostly.  The terror of not having the ability to choose, or even make choices outside of my mind, was horrible beyond your understanding.  It would be like being buried alive, or paraplegic, even blind at times.  I had no strength to speak, to tell, to write.  I couldn't get through that physical barrier to the real world.  With some of the people, a few who were very patient with time and mild mannered, I was able to get out, in small ways, just enough, I think, that I was alive in there, that they didn't just put me up somewhere, warehouse me, pimp me out for the government largess.  Just barely enough, as I recall... suspect.

Now?  Now, while still nearly physically catatonic at times, I can, and do, communicate.  I have had plenty of time to think of things, think over things, come to realizations, and solidly.  And I have some things to say.  But more, I just write in order to communicate, all by itself.  To have some, if limited, contact with the world.

 And now?  The very people that wanted me to speak, write, communicate, for so long?  They want me to shut up, already.  It might even be more than a mere request, somewhere in their minds?  Why shouldn't women vote?  Hell, why should they be allowed in the medical field if they can't control themselves?

Oh, laughing?  Oh yes, yes indeed, without any way to constrain it!  Be careful with your wishes.  And the possible threats?  Adds solid bass to my laughter, and a little deeper... something.  Oh, heavens, I do enjoy life.  Teh funny!

So tired, so taught.

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Yeah, I may be sleeping a lot.  But my focus is laser beam absolute.  My resolution has settled on the nano while my body rots in the world.  The notion of women, to a degree, has claimed my focus for real world reasons.  Well, and refusing to surrender, not even to pain or erstwhile confusion during these times.  I am holding on, if seemingly to nothing often.  As such, I might be just a tetch... caustic.  Oh, but never fear.  This can happen in any times.  Further, so long as it is kept, at least mostly, on track, I don't mind a bit.  Sometimes I direct it at me, sometimes you, sometimes them, or this, or that.  Sometimes, like this time, someone raises their hand and says "Oh, ew... me, pick me... me, me, me".  I oblige.

Cruel.

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I hear it on the wind.  The little bird brings me much.  Blasphemous as well?  Oh, don't be shy children.  Approach with your whispers.  One thing, however, at a time.

As for feckless callousness, I assure you there was nothing feckless or callous about what I wrote.  If I wish to be mean, you won't have any doubts.  You might not be able to breath for a few moments.  Much longer if that little bit stopped your breath.  Even at distance, much more so in my presence.  Merely I have been clarifying.  Should you wish the lash, all that is required is a more direct request.  Don't just push the line, step over it.  You won't be the first woman I have fathered.  Most women have not, these days, been schooled rightly.  I can, have, and probably will.  Should I find a woman who even understands her place in reality, and my world, and be interested in fulfilling those roles with me.  Even without that, it seems.

If I wish to crush you, of mind and spirit, that is less a task than to physically harm you.  Doubt, protest my impotence, but through tears from a minor discussion?  Really?  Who is delusional, exactly?  Careful youngling.  Even if you be twice my age, as a woman, at times, you are as a child unto me.  I won't negotiate.  I know from experience, I don't have to acquiesce... and shouldn't.

As to going against God?  Why?  Because I used a seeming non-believer's art to depict a dogma that has been allowed to languish while the Church is reduced from the Bride of Christ to just some Jezebel?  And daughters of men, of Eve, of Mary, are allowed to become foul untamed asses, free to all comers and their own passions?  And then go on to murder their own children so they can do it more?  Careful when you push those buttons.  I am the least of what you should fear, mind you.  I advise, and for a reason, and the way I do.  Doubt in your insecurity, deny if you wish, but you cannot undo God's will.  Shoot the messenger if you will, that would actually be a quite great honor.  Further, I will offer you the first stone, should you see that as right.  Not that I would simply allow you to throw it, mind you.  I think you would lose, one, two, and yes, probably three ways.  Unlike you, and your notions, I would make it quick.  Your rage should warn your heart and mind that your notions are not correct.  Especially if you were born a man.  Women?  I understand you are of passion.  But if that passion is untamed, it will be your ruin, which is why you shouldn't vote.  There is a reason women weren't allowed to do the stoning, by the way.  Oh?  You... didn't know?  Consider yourself just a wee better educated.  You may thank me later.

There are things far worse than death, and certainly worse than a bruised ego.  There are things worth pricking egos, even destroying psyches, if done for the right reasons, directly, and honestly.  I pray, always, to be free of excesses, and yet to have the strength to do what is right.  And then I walk forward and do just that, as I see it.  No more, no less.

Well, off to... something.  Sleep is still quite odd.  I have just been letting it happen as it must.  I am attempting to take medication properly, and eat.  But, it's all so... blurry.  Extra sleep does help to keep things coherent, but in a much smaller and smaller circle further down in me.  I haven't surrendered to near coma though.  I am simply retreating as I have no real means of resisting at the moment.

If you think me a monster now, wait until I wake.  A dragon, but of God?  Hmm...  Attempt to slay the dragon if you must.  Just understand, God's will cannot be unmade.  I have, however, told you how best to do it.  Good luck.  Not even I could do it.

Later!

Thoughts.

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No, I won't watch it.  Nothing from Hollywood anymore.  Besides, I've lived my own real version of it, to an extent.  Why watch the fiction.  No double, triple, or more, realities... just so very many realities that weren't compatible.  Who has 41 siblings, or 7 fathers, 3 mothers, has gone to 12 different k-12 schools, and... what, 4, 5, colleges, or loved 50 or more women?  And that is just the tip of the iceberg.  I know they would ruin the story, somehow, suggesting that everything is the right answer, the good way, if you just want, or some such drivel.  The trailer is interesting though.

You can't make the right choice, you can only make a choice, quite often.  I didn't have the understanding to make the right choice, but was given the options anyway.  But many big choices can eventually break you.  If you live long enough, it all comes back into focus though.  I have lived enough, too much as I see it now.  If too, I realize there is so much else out there.  Perhaps a few... wants remain.  Just a ghost of what could have been, might have been, what I wanted it to be, and what I didn't want but what was, walking around looking for what maybe never was, or never will be, but is.

Oops?

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Oh, that was a bit tight.  Thankfully, in spite of being quite tired and out of it lately, I knew what was going on at my doctor visit.  She REALLY had a problem.  Estrogen and passive-aggressive to the gills.  The woman was as close to being harsh and rude as you can get without quite crossing that, technically.  I still think if it is wall to wall it crosses the line.  My guess?  She read this post, watched the vids, read the verses, and about hit her own upper limits of bp.  She knows better than God, and certainly better than me!  Ha!  I do believe they monitor my page.  Just to get an idea of "where I am at", or something silly.  Or maybe that was the start of it.  Then this blog became a curiosity.  She was probably just doing an update, read that, and...

I try to warn em', I do.  But do they listen?  Oh no.  I don't know if she is divorced, but I am quite sure that would add to the... urhm... burn.  But the simple fact of her position in life, the realities of it, are quite... trying.  Going to a page that points that out, without conditions or allowances, has to be harsh.  I can't change the facts, and won't.  Not my province in any event.  There is nothing I can do for the realities as they exist.  I could avoid noting them.  But these were brought to me through dreams.  And besides, I have no interest in hiding the truth in order to be "civil" according to someone that is no longer even in the game.  I am not kind to myself, in avoiding the truth.  I give what I get.  Oh, she really needs to work on her "gotchyas", they were easily swatted aside when ignoring them as dull wasn't enough.  But... that probably is as much as she really has.  Sad.

If I hadn't known what was going on, I would have thought that she had no medical training, or no understanding.  I'll have to see.  Of course, she doesn't want to see me for a year.  Which... is unlike any doctor I have seen there before, six months is the most before her.  If she can't handle the truth, and the case, she really has an obligation to surrender it though.  Hubris in the medical field is just part of why Zerocare is going to be more of a disaster if it ever gets off the ground than even the startup.  Though there are other parts of it that will be as bad.  Oh, and guess what they are going to do to get doctors onboard?  The same thing the V.A. has done.  Exempt them from lawsuits, even if malicious.  Yeah, you are just going to LOVE the medical field given full rights to experiment on you as they wish without fear of retribution.  Or even reasonable responsibility for their irresponsibility, or even aggravated intent to harm.  

I did make it to Cabela's.  They do have the snow shoes recommended in stock.  I looked over boots.  They seemed short and I mentioned that.  Gators, I was told.  Okay, well, gators aren't my favorites, but... I understood why not higher boots.  I tried on a pair of boots.  Good thing, too.  They were a size small, actually.  Usually these boots run (or so I was told) forty more than their listed price.  Dunno, might have been a sales ploy (I do intend to find out).  Fearing a higher price later, I went with the boots now, and gators.  When I am up for my next appointment, or maybe online, I might just buy those snow shoes.  I am at the end of their range, but there really aren't larger sizes easily or reasonably priced that are available.  I know I will sink in some.  And I know I will have to practice and just get used to that and figure things out.  So be it.  They would certainly be better than nothing, and with some practice, and getting in shape, they ease getting me out to goof in the snow, and maybe eventually to camp out there.

Hmm...  I don't know.  Tired, true.  But pleased that I made my appointment and got to Cabela's.  I've been meaning to stop in, anyway, just because it's Cabela's.  Saw a large Scheel's on the way, too.  I ought to stop there as well, just... well... because it's Scheels!  Funny, I didn't have a map and didn't bother with my phone.  Saw the sign for the exit but didn't see where to go.  I headed in the wrong direction, due to traffic congestion and an insane set of traffic structures.  At the second intersection in which I could turn around, I did, only to find myself right where I was going.  Love it when a flawed plan works out flawlessly.  *grins*

Ya, I'm awake, in time.

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My appointment, as it turned out, wasn't until this afternoon.  I did have to go back down for a bit.  I set my alarm from 9:30 but was up well before that, maybe 8:00-8:30.  Enough time, maybe, to get a shower in, air dry, and get the trash out?  Maybe.  Still... sitting here, but thinking on it all.

Rammstein is definitely a man's group.  Whatever else, they seem to hit, and hint at, what is in a man's mind.  From the fantasies to realities of women as we see them, to the lighter shades of our dark side, to just resembling the animals that we are, as in this gritty vid.  I know, getting up, and living my life, in my mancave, I understand this.  When I go to do something, I understand it won't be what I thought, I sometimes overdo some things, and even then I often fail.  *rip*  Love me some Rammstein in the morning.

Never mind, I need to get going.  I do have a few things to do before I even begin doing the thing that I really need to do.

But, this last sleep cycle?  Dreams?  Aye.  A sweet one.  My favorite of the Blade Runner ladies, or for now, this time.  Rachael vies for this spot.  Pris is fine, I do like her... imaginative mind, gymnastics, and all.  But she, or the type she plays, is for another sort.  Or at least, compared to the time I watched the movie, then understood.  Odd how what we were alters what we like, even should our tastes and moods about such change.  Like a time capsule, some things become locked into 'what was'.  In the movie, she was a killer too.  She was intelligent and capable, but not as risk taking as I at the time, even so.  Now?  She would be too much of a risk taker, as a partner.  I need the tame, a Pris.  But I can't change the ideals and realities then, or otherwise alter my notions of then, now.  Strange.  Not so much fantasy dreams of sex.  Sex is fine, but being with, around, and flirty with sexy...  Ah...  Therein lies most of my sexuality.  The foundations and majority of such.  That is what I dreamed.  A touch, a whisper, a glance, even a scratch!  But then a forgiveness.

Later.

Sleep was a gift.

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I do try to stretch.  I also attempt to avoid that step too far.  It can be, literarily, akin to stopping blindly at warp speed at a desired location.  Sometimes it works, sometimes not so much.  yesterday it worked just about perfectly.  I had, however, forgotten a bit about dinner.  I thought to set the alarm but sometimes it comes earlier or later, so that doesn't really work but I took my phone in.  I woke for that, and enjoyed the meal.

In spite of myself.

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I kept going and going, finally dropping like a well shot buffalo at about 13:30.  I had almost hoped to make it to dinnertime, but that just was not going to happen.  I thought to set my alarm, to be awake when it arrived.  As I was reaching over to set the alarm, *bam, bam, bam*, dinner arrived.  Yeah, that's pretty freaky.  Don't remember sleeping.  It was almost as close to being rude without actually being rude, as one can know.  A straight shot from reaching over to set an alarm to being awaken by the reason you were going to SET the alarm.  *bam, bam, bam*  Again.  Pajamas were on, but cap.  I like having a cap on.  Ah, there it was.  Dinner was good.  I think?  No, yes, it was tasty.

However, I think I just saw my shadow, and the cats are looking eerily dangerous somehow.  Daydreaming I am a mouse?  Perhaps, or mindtwisting into that.  I will set the alarm this time.  I need to be on the road, I think, by...  3:00, or 5:00, or 7:00, or... something.  I'll... look at my phone, if I can find it.  Being this sleepy is almost as plush as that fog I can go through, but not quite.  It's more like being well and truly tipsy compared to being off one's gourd with no chance at memory.  Crazy, baby.  More sleep.  Good... night?  Yep.  Actually.  

Sleep is so messed up.

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I have pushed it this morning.  It hasn't started hurting or anything.  But I am rather confused, and have been for a number of days.  The inebriation of exhaustion can be exquisite.  Not so much as a preferred thing, only in it's effects.  While I can think back in here, speaking is too complicated to do well.  I can't remember what I was about to say, what I did say, or what I was getting at.  I have, for the most part, taken my medicines in spite of it.  I have missed an evening or two, and a day in there.  Catching up when I can, just leaving it go when too much time has passed.  The difficulty is keeping the day correct.  More so when I am not sure if my next sleep will last a few hours or many hours, or even if I will be awake for long or short periods.  Well, and driving through the fog of an extended waking period, like now, means I lose all sense of things while I try to push through.

I had visitors today.

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Horrible!  Oh, not the visitors.  As I mentioned, my sleep is very off.  But they would be coming by about three to six hours after my body wanted, demanded, sleep.  I could, probably, have gotten a nap in, but I was so focused on trying to... do something... anything... to straighten things up a bit that... I never did get down.  So, when they were here, I was jabbering, unfocused, tripping on my tongue.  Things I had been thinking, like my darker post today, other... notions, and such, just spilled out.  Thankfully, I didn't say anything inappropriate.  Then, I don't live in the profane.  Yes, yes, what you see here and read here and hear here, right?  Ah, but truths are not profane, just darkly gilded at times.  If you understand what I am saying you would understand this.   As to the past... where there was profane, but in an attempt to find the better... and only part of what makes the present, something released for a better life.  None of that got through the filters.

They asked if they could help more, here.  And, no.  Not now, or yet, really.  If I can get caught back up on the kitchen, and then hit the living room and computer room strongly, then yes, I would ask for more help, an extra push, to get the remainder back in line.  But any extra help, at this point, while I am behind the ball that I had advanced to, would be... unsustainable.  I need to be in a place where I can sustain an advance.  Yeah, maybe picky, maybe wrong headed, but...  I think it is right, for me.

As soon as my guests parted, I thought to go right to sleep.  I think I tried to stretch my "day" more, but really wasn't all that successful.  I have no idea what time it was when I went to bed.  It had to be after 16:00, and probably a bit after 17:00?  Dunno.  I just know I woke at 2:00, will be taking my meds shortly, may take another shower before long.  Then set up the dishes, check the washer and dryer, and if in any condition to do so, might make another run into town for more.

Interesting dreams of late.  Alien dinosaurs on alien planets which were supposed to be barren of animal life.  Michael and I think his wife were on the trip.  We were the last to get out, even with the carnivorous large dino's "chasing" us.  It was a rather leisurely, easy chase, if I ever saw one.  No running, no screaming, lots of conversation, and breaks every once in a while.  Yeah, not... exactly a nightmare.  :p  Other such odd dreams, though no other cameos that I remember.  Tinkering with Hoover Dam sized things, floating on clouds, flirting with women, things like that.  The last few days have leant themselves to interesting but non-stressful dreams.  Many have been lost upon waking, some linger for extra entertainment while awake.

Did I mention?  I did make it into town yesterday.  I went to the one store I knew would have some oddities on my list, such as quinoa, semolina flour (to be mixed with regular for pasta dough), amaranth seed(grain), and of course brown rice, short rice this time.  Yes, yes, I have some things to try.  Quinoa I know how to cook, have cooked, though I ought to check on that again as it's been a while.  My trick with it will be to figure out what to cook with it, or add to it, to make it... edible to me.  Amaranth is a whole new flora white meat to me.  I'll have to explore that a bit.  And, actually, home made noodles is a new project, semolina flour is a new wheat...  Incentives to get my kitchen back in order and begin tinkering again.

I think the owner is Vietnamese, of the particular shop where I picked up the grains.  I happened to be wearing my tiger stripe bdu bottoms.  They were never, and still aren't, official bdu's, as far as I know.  What I have are as close to official as were ever produced... button fly, tie legs, button balloon pockets with drain holes, the rest.  These were bought by the men, or men I knew, on their own, for in the field.  And, true, I never wore them as they did.  But some in my club did.  The lefties in the shop were quite offended.  He?  He was pleased to have me shopping in his store.  One side was there for politics, power, and indifferently, then abandoned them to slaughter.  One side had more than a little skin, interest, and blood in the game.  He knows which should be offended.  Which is offensive, to him probably quite personally.  Just an accident of fate, an interesting one.