"Stop giving a crap, write illegal stuff, go to prison."-- Craig Ferguson.
My father recently said I could stay in the closet room off my brother's room when I come home to get my teeth worked on. I've always hated that room and given the adult horrors I've been dealing with lately I couldn't imagine what he meant. And then I thought, Maybe he means that if I need to come home for a little while they'll find a place for me somehow. And then I think now, that he thinks I've been frightfully juvenile and should be ashamed of myself. Be that as it may, I feel really ashamed today of the review I wrote of Modio-media because I call fascist what is clearly not fascist in light of the horrible weekend I've spent in the hospital with my sick and undying girlfriend (fingers crossed.) She was always a miracle woman of survival, sleighted to die before the age of 14, back in the 1950's, and then going on to survive an escape from an early marriage, the death of a beloved infant, a year in the jungle, innumerable drunken fistfights and worse, the entire 1960's drugs and politics culture, and then mental hospitals, the kidnapping of her second daughter by her ex-husband, and years of panhandling on the streets without SSI. The last twenty years have been a lot happier and almost all of it she worked full time, but now she's retired and sees her daughter every day sometimes. She also cares about me more than anyone else ever has as far as I know and she is so, so sick and "god" is telling me she's going to survive this crisis but it's been a horrible weekend and I acted in the hospital like a a werewolf in a convent and I just want her to be okay and for people to understand that I'm not playing "god" if being in love gives me unique insight into how she can get herself better when the hospital is wearing a lot of yellow and only checking on her every 45 minutes. You see, one of the first things she ever told me about herself is it's always been a awful struggle to make her body move but she didn't want to die and so she just kept fighting to survive and found she could often excel at stuff, like sports and school and fistfighting when necessary. And I have a friend who's a combination charlatan/stage magician/Tibetan healer who told me-- and I know-- that you can often choose your lifespan by choosing projects you won't die until they're completed. And I'm finding that mainly applying to me these days and all sorts of unbelievably unfunny kharma is coming to me like an old friend and saying, "You can't go until you pay your debt." and I guess I'm just really happy and I always did love those people and never wanted to go to Heaven, Paradise, or Nirvana even when I believed in that stuff. I could go hide like I always used to or I can embrace it and be glad I have a life.
And Linda is surrounded by so much love from me and her daughter and grandchildren that when her body doesn't feel pain she starts to transcend the physical and scare the shit out of us. And it's also true that she filled out an advance directive and I don't know what it says but I think she hates to be a burden on people and doesn't want to take care of us by letting us take care of her. I've been in that position a lot myself and it's crap. But today I think the hospital reduced her methadone and she's felt like crap all day and I call that clarity, because she's really really sick, so I feel better. See, I'm a sadist. But writing this blog post helps me to turn the situation over to the will of not "god" because I don't give a fuck what "god" wants but I think I can let Linda live or end her life or give up or take on more kharma or not according to her will and maybe I'm even cheering up about it.
All this may be academic because her kidney is a tiny bit better today, according to the doctor, and the swelling in one foot went down, though the other foot has a toes turning red with cellulitis and they drew a circle around it(!) They say they expect her home tomorrow or the next day and I'm taking care of my other relationships for a few days and taking showers and eating oatmeal and if she's back in her apartment Wednesday or Thursday I'll stay with her the weekend like I always do and do whatever it takes to lend a hand without overwhelming her with my panic attacks and my needs. Ha ha.
My father recently said I could stay in the closet room off my brother's room when I come home to get my teeth worked on. I've always hated that room and given the adult horrors I've been dealing with lately I couldn't imagine what he meant. And then I thought, Maybe he means that if I need to come home for a little while they'll find a place for me somehow. And then I think now, that he thinks I've been frightfully juvenile and should be ashamed of myself. Be that as it may, I feel really ashamed today of the review I wrote of Modio-media because I call fascist what is clearly not fascist in light of the horrible weekend I've spent in the hospital with my sick and undying girlfriend (fingers crossed.) She was always a miracle woman of survival, sleighted to die before the age of 14, back in the 1950's, and then going on to survive an escape from an early marriage, the death of a beloved infant, a year in the jungle, innumerable drunken fistfights and worse, the entire 1960's drugs and politics culture, and then mental hospitals, the kidnapping of her second daughter by her ex-husband, and years of panhandling on the streets without SSI. The last twenty years have been a lot happier and almost all of it she worked full time, but now she's retired and sees her daughter every day sometimes. She also cares about me more than anyone else ever has as far as I know and she is so, so sick and "god" is telling me she's going to survive this crisis but it's been a horrible weekend and I acted in the hospital like a a werewolf in a convent and I just want her to be okay and for people to understand that I'm not playing "god" if being in love gives me unique insight into how she can get herself better when the hospital is wearing a lot of yellow and only checking on her every 45 minutes. You see, one of the first things she ever told me about herself is it's always been a awful struggle to make her body move but she didn't want to die and so she just kept fighting to survive and found she could often excel at stuff, like sports and school and fistfighting when necessary. And I have a friend who's a combination charlatan/stage magician/Tibetan healer who told me-- and I know-- that you can often choose your lifespan by choosing projects you won't die until they're completed. And I'm finding that mainly applying to me these days and all sorts of unbelievably unfunny kharma is coming to me like an old friend and saying, "You can't go until you pay your debt." and I guess I'm just really happy and I always did love those people and never wanted to go to Heaven, Paradise, or Nirvana even when I believed in that stuff. I could go hide like I always used to or I can embrace it and be glad I have a life.
And Linda is surrounded by so much love from me and her daughter and grandchildren that when her body doesn't feel pain she starts to transcend the physical and scare the shit out of us. And it's also true that she filled out an advance directive and I don't know what it says but I think she hates to be a burden on people and doesn't want to take care of us by letting us take care of her. I've been in that position a lot myself and it's crap. But today I think the hospital reduced her methadone and she's felt like crap all day and I call that clarity, because she's really really sick, so I feel better. See, I'm a sadist. But writing this blog post helps me to turn the situation over to the will of not "god" because I don't give a fuck what "god" wants but I think I can let Linda live or end her life or give up or take on more kharma or not according to her will and maybe I'm even cheering up about it.
All this may be academic because her kidney is a tiny bit better today, according to the doctor, and the swelling in one foot went down, though the other foot has a toes turning red with cellulitis and they drew a circle around it(!) They say they expect her home tomorrow or the next day and I'm taking care of my other relationships for a few days and taking showers and eating oatmeal and if she's back in her apartment Wednesday or Thursday I'll stay with her the weekend like I always do and do whatever it takes to lend a hand without overwhelming her with my panic attacks and my needs. Ha ha.
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