It's Wiscpunk You Idiot
so if you want to know what I'm up to here's my Grid Related Blog
Labels: blog jerks
from the dudes at Double Happiness with the best soundtrack I've heard in a while plus its got side ponytail and dead fish. You couldn't ask for anything more!!!
11 October 2007 a.m.
11 October 2007 –
I had the most bizarre and vivid dream last night, and it was very intense and sad for me even for many moments after waking. It was in color, and it felt very real.
I was meeting most of my immediate family in
I had apparently changed a great deal physically. I remember that. People commented on it. The main thing I remember though is that my mother and my sister were both creating a big scene about something I can’t remember. I was furious with my sister, and to some extent with my mother as well though not quite so much, because this was the home of the queen and the seat of government, and we were the center of attention, though we were merely there as tourists. If I remember correctly, my sister broke something, maybe a window. I’m not sure. Her and my mother were yelling at each other in tears about some ancient family upset that was meaningless anymore. I remember being frustrated and embarrassed by the fact that we couldn’t be out in public. We were supposed to attend some show or spectacle and ended up being escorted out – at least I remember leaving with my father to go outside.
The palace-castle complex sat atop a large hill with steep sides with a river fronting it. There was a group of peasants, or at least plain folk, sitting amongst some large stones on the hillside in the sun. It was beautiful weather. Dad wasn’t doing well, I think. I sat my father down in that group and took a seat myself at the edge and looked up. A coach was traveling along that narrow road immediately above us, and I noticed that the stones along the edge of the road were crumbling and coming down the hill. Then I noticed that the entire structure of the ruins was collapsing and rolling down the hill toward us.
I jumped. It was as though I had acquired some phenomenal parkour talent. I leapt from one place to the next down the hillside while huge stones crashed around me, knowing that everyone in my family was doomed. I jumped across the boundary between the grounds of the castle and the adjacent buildings of the town. I was in a crevice of some kind about three feet wide that ran down toward the riverbank, and I somehow knew I was safe there. I continued down to the front of the building and turned to the right until I came to a walkway overhead. It was as if I were in some sort of dry storm gutter that surrounded the building. I looked up and there was my sister Pam reaching down to help me up. I was in tears. I didn’t want her help – I was furious at her – and I was devastated that the rest of my family was all dead. My parents were dead, and I knew that. I couldn’t’ speak. She walked me forward from the building to the sidewalk, which was just a dock on the river and into a small reception office about the size of my bedroom where a man behind a counter gave me a lifejacket. I walked to the door and saw the river right there and looked back to my left up the hill and saw the castle gone and the palace remaining and knew my family was gone.
I awoke with a tightness in my chest from sobbing at the man behind the desk and trying to get him to understand that everything was gone. It was REALLY weird.
I was driving into town to mail some packages and as I was driving I noticed
a donkey and his cow friend walking down the middle of the road.
Some how they had gotten out of their fenced in party zone and were
I stopped to say hello. The donkey said his name was Timmothy and he was the same stuff Im into so that was cool. I asked if they wanted to come into town for a beer but since they were out and about they said theyd figured
theyd keep going west to see if they could get back to their homeland they
were taken from years ago.
I hope to see they again.
JoeL: New postPosted: Wed Oct 10, 2007 2:07 pm Post subject:
I love when animals get out of their fenced in party zones.
One time I saw a bad ass bull with bigass horns chillin on the side of the
road lookin to score some bit-uddered heifer
Columbine Tyler: New postPosted: Wed Oct 10, 2007 4:00 pm Post subject:
I am serious, that donkey was the shit. He came right up to my window to
talk. And believe me when I tell you he was definently a HE! His dick was so
big it had a hoof on the end. Shocked
JoeL:New postPosted: Wed Oct 10, 2007 7:25 pm Post subject:
One fourth of July a couple years ago I partied with a donkey at this farm.
He didn't want any beer but you could feed him grass and shit. Then people
started shooting off old mortar shells and we all had to leap to safety as
they fired into the crowd. The donkey kept his cool though. He'da put Joe
Camel to shame *
JimA: New postPosted: Wed Oct 10, 2007 11:42 pm Post subject:
hey joe remeber that time we were burning one and we saw the dog and then
we saw the cows running down the road? that was cool
10 October 2007
10 October 2007 –
It’s 9:13 p.m., and I just put in a dip that I wasn’t really even craving, just to stave off a potential craving later. I’m dipping less and less now, generally twice a day at work and once in the evening. I dipped a great deal more when I was smoking cigarettes. I am willing to be free of tobacco altogether now, and I no longer see that eventuality as something to dread. Those sorts of feelings come and go. I wanted a cigarette badly a few days ago. Hell, a shot of bourbon, dank nugs and some heroin sounded good at that time. That passes. In the eighteen months since I stopped drinking and doing drugs those instances have been truly rare for me. I haven’t given it much thought; I’ve always had something to do that occupied my attention and kept me focused, even if that something was one of the transient impulses that lead nowhere and spring from that same inner well of compulsion that drove my earlier, more self-destructive, choices.
All is well. All was well also when I was feeling miserable. Giving “all” my stamp of approval when the mood strikes seems a bit superfluous, actually. Perhaps I shouldn’t arrogate that sort of authority for making value judgments to my unaided mind.
My walks these past two days have become a bit more energetic, strident even. The follow-up appointments with both my doctors loom large next Wednesday, as if I should be preparing a defense. For what? To prove that I’m being a good boy now? Not quite. I simply use that as a benchmark moment, one of many to follow hopefully, against which I can measure some increment of progress towards a longer-term goal. I suppose I want to buttress my current determination with the approval and encouragement of my doctors for what I’ve been doing so far. There is less my old need for a pat on the head inherent in that so much as just plain nagging fears and doubts I have about my strength of character and ability to follow through in a stepwise, measured process toward an end. I mean, the rubber kinda hits the road here, Pancho. I may not be a new creature, but the building of some new creation is largely in my own hands and no one else’s. Trite as it may sound, this really is no dress rehearsal. I am forty-four years old, and it is likely twenty years past the time when I should be safeguarding my health against the infirmities of old age. So whether in indolence or haste, the walks will continue, I hope, for some time to come.
Cody is taking me to the State Fair tomorrow after work. We were supposed to go to a movie, but he had previously promised a friend he would go with him to the fair, and I’m tagging along. It is something of an attenuation to what I had envisioned as a date, but perhaps that is a good thing. We could use some buffers in our relations at this point. They are at best strained, despite both our protests that we still love each other very much. I assume he is still dating the DJ at the bar where he is now working, and I am, for all intents and purposes, single and available, even if I have not been aggressively so. It’s not like I haven’t had enough on my plate to consider lately. My recent circumstances have put an ice-pack on that fevered dream. It is still there, but I cannot afford to lose myself in it at the moment. Neither one of us misses the relationship we had, or at least what it was becoming, but I do miss him a great deal.
I’ve never had spectacular success with relationships – how do you measure that, exactly – and he’s never done relationships at all. I’ll opt for counseling when things even out for me and that becomes available. I’m open to the idea, whether or not he and I achieve any kind of reconciliation. There are obviously some kinks in my psyche that need ironing out, independent of whatever he brought to the relationship. I keep hearing an unwritten country song in my head this evening with a line to the effect of “too afraid of a broken heart to ever fall in love”. I’m sure it’s already been written. I love him very much and care a great deal about him. That, I know, is genuine. It will be nice to spend time with him, and I do not intend to use the opportunity for anything other than just that.
I’ve noticed something on my evening walks, and during my walks after lunch during the work day as well. I smell things. I smell the Mexican restaurants in the neighborhood. I smell the Thai restaurant. I smell the coffee house. I smell everything. I imagine smells. There is a great variety of things that I used to eat with impunity that I simply no longer consider as viable options. It occurred to me last night as I was walking that I can now enjoy not only the memories of those foods and the experiences I associate with them; I can also simply enjoy the aromas themselves. I’ve read many times that a great deal of what we taste is experienced through our sense of smell. There is no reason I cannot enjoy those sensations just as much now, simply because I no longer fill my gut, and consequently my arteries, with the bulk of material that carries that matter into the rest of my body – and out again into the
I had a great deal of fun drinking and doing drugs over many years. I hung off the precipice by my very fingernails, such as they are, and lived intensely while I was dying incrementally. I swam in the muck and celebrated a good portion of it. I do not regret much of that, but I know that it is something I can never do successfully again, and never really did successfully in the past. How do you define success at something like that, anyway? The point is that those things I can enjoy now in my mind are like the best hit of weed I ever took, the best drink of straight bourbon in an air-conditioned bar when everything was perfect. Those moments rarely ever existed anywhere other than in my self-deceived imagination, but for me they were Platonic ideals that were as real and continuous as the creak of the chair I sit in at this moment. I can taste them, and I can feel their effects right now. And why not? What is the use of a rich interior life, a vivid imagination and a well of experience from which to draw if not to drink deeply for the rest of my days? I not only have the hard lessons of a life characterized by bouts of conspicuous consumption. I also have the thick residue of my difficulties from which I may mine those moments that, for me, represented real joys. The other benefit I gain is that my experience makes me uniquely useful in some other ways, and that is something that only comes with continuous sobriety and continuous cheerful labor and service. But that is for another day’s reflection.
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Labels: spam image collage art
7 October 2007
7 October 2007 –
I love days like this. I got to goof off, and I also felt like I got things done. I slept until 10am this morning. I went to Target this afternoon and bought a steam-cooker and then went to the farmers’ market and picked up loads of produce before returning home. I like playing in the kitchen and washing and separating stuff to pack away for the week in the fridge, and I like having new kitchen gadgets to fool around with.
I made a HUGE plate of veggies in the steamer and chatted online for a bit before leaving on a walk just after sunset. I walked a couple of miles through the residential streets around my neighborhood, starting out from the shops at Bishop Arts. It’s a mostly Mexican neighborhood, but it is slowly gentrifying. There are smells of meat grilling and the sounds of the polka beat and accordion coming from the long stretches of smaller homes fronted by wrought iron fences that seem somewhat disproportionate. Cats lie in the sidewalk here and there, and occasionally I am met by the yipping of a
I am glad to be alive.
I came home and showered and folded laundry and washed dishes and took my evening pills. There is no noise but the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard and the whirring of the window unit. I have new shoes and a new bedspread, and I have books everywhere. There is still a good deal of clutter about the place, but I’ll get that sorted out once I can do heavy lifting again. It’s job security of a sort, in any case.
I picked up a CD yesterday at a KNON sale in the parking lot outside the radio station. The artist is called Cottonmouth
This weekend I’ll go to the river to see dad and Sarah and spend some time with them. I’ll go to a benefit show in Deep Ellum on Saturday night. Between now and then I have lots of work to do catching up for lost time at the soap mines.
Now thas wa i'm talkin bou
Huggies is on it
Labels: john kerry hetero brokeback rap
Chocolate Rain and McDonalds
I didn't even look who made this it was so great I had to put it up here.
Maybe it will help mugtoe recover from doctors today.
Dean Boggs. “Boy On Good-Good Shit,” he called it, pointing to the jailhouse tat on his arm that said just that – B.O.G.G.S. – in a childlike lettering. I didn’t care. I had been wired and drunk for days and had picked him up at the ten p.m. candlelight AA meeting to see if he wanted to have a three-way with me and Sadie. I knew he was up for getting wired and was probably only at the meeting for one of four things: free meal and some coffee, the chance at some pussy, a signature for his PO, or the off chance that somebody else was there for the same purposes and had some dope. Any combination of those would do, and I could offer them all, so we hooked up and headed to my house before the meeting ended. I knew Sadie was coming over shortly, and I wanted to hang with him first and get acquainted.
I gave him a beer and asked him if he wanted to get high. He looked down like he was deep in thought and giggled a bit and said sure. He giggled like that a lot. It wasn’t particularly annoying; it was low and quick, like a kick-start for his speech. Once that flywheel engaged, he’d rattle off his words quickly and abruptly fall silent. I was quite charmed, really. I asked him if he wanted some pussy, and he got this childlike grin on his face and looked at me like I’d offered him a shiny new toy.
“She good lookin?”
“It’s Sadie from the meetin. The blonde gir...”
“Oh yeah. You bet I’ll fuck her.”
“Well, it’ll be you and me both fuckin her.”
“Suits me. Hell, ere’s more’n one way at it.” The pace of his words had quickened a bit. I reached under my armchair and pulled out the little tray with the dope on it and offered him a line. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on this boy, and he was fine as frog hair with a mop of brown hair and brown eyes and big pretty lips. He did a healthy line, and I prepared him another, which he dispatched just as quickly. I did one myself and took a long pull off my beer before speaking.
“It don’t bother you that I’m queer, does it?”
“Long as you ain’t tryin to fuck me, is all the same. You ain’t gonna be tryin to get me to do anything too funny are ya?” His giggle trailed off on that one a bit.
“Nah. It ain’t like that. Sadie’ll wanna have us both fuck her’n she’ll wanna watch me suck yer dick, I reckon. But you don’t have to do nothin to me. I’m teachin her a few things, she says.” I pushed the tray his way across the little table. I noticed his hands tremble a bit, and I couldn’t help giggling a bit myself.
“Don’t sweat it, boy. I ain’t lookin to hook up with you like that. I’m just a heathen’n this bitch thinks she needs another guy here to get me to fuck her. I’d fuck her anyway, for that matter. Yer just gravy. More the merrier, I guess. ‘sides, I’m harder’n Chinese arithmetic’n I’d eat you up, Dean.”
“I c’n handle that,” he stumbled out, looking at the floor. “You sure that’s all you wanna do?”
“I guarantee you’ll have a good time once Sadie gets here, boy. We’ll get our heads right. She’ll be pullin up in a few. Show me yer dick.”
He jumped a bit, “Damn, you don’t waste much time.”
“We’re all gonna be fuckin in a bit, anyway. Ain’t nobody here but you’n me, Dean. Chill out’n lemme see it. If you wanna fuck Sadie, yer gonna have to let her watch me eat you up, anyway. You might as well get used to that. Those are her rules, not mine.”
This is where I got to play the reasonable guy just trying to help out a friend and get him laid. I’ve always lived a life of service. Dean hesitated a moment, only a moment, and then undid his pants and pulled them down passed his knees to reveal a passable instrument that I instantly devoured, much to his initial bewilderment and growing encouragement. I had my arms around behind his ass in no time and was working him over pretty well. He was no real chore, and I was pretty wired up in any case.
“Lord, goddamn, Mug.”
He was beginning to writhe and buck a bit when the door shuddered and Sadie burst in carrying a twelve-pack of some generic looking swill and pushing those high-beams through her t-shirt. I raised up as Dean frantically tried to pull up his pants; I stiff-armed him back into the chair.
“Lock the door, hon. Put that nasty beer down and get undressed and get over here’n help me prime the pump on this heathen.”
I had barely gotten started on a good rhythm again when she appeared at my side, nudging me aside at the trough to get to the goodies. Dean had obviously adjusted quite nicely to the situation by this time and shook himself out of his shoes and pants without ever once displacing Sadie or me in our alternating attentions. We got him on the floor, and I was up turning off lights and throwing off clothes as I went, locking doors and drawing blinds.
I returned to find them doing that kissing bit that I find so objectionable between men and women – I’m really old fashioned in my thinking about people sticking to their own kind when it comes to that kind of intimacy. I bodily lifted Sadie and scooted her around so that her snatch was where my cock was aching to be, poised over those thick, full lips of his with that baby-soft dark moustache lining the upper rim around that warm, wet satin that fairly cried out for a shafting.
There is a special place in Hell for guys like me, I’m sure, but I’ve never held a gun to anyone’s head in my life when it came to gettin naked with this fatboy and gettin it on. I just seem to corrupt them to their natural essence, and then they tend to blossom in it on their own. Some of them really surprise me in their blossoming. I almost feel guilty sometimes – not very often though. It ain’t like I really ever turned out any of those straight guys. I just invited them along for the ride. Most of them jumped at and only had issues later. Well, that’s between them and their therapist. Anyway, dope makes a freak out of anybody. Don’t tell me otherwise, or you ain’t never done that much dope.
Sadie and I kept tag-teaming that boy’s lap for about ten minutes while he lapped away at that big monkey of hers. I wondered how he was breathing back there, and asked him as much. He commenced with the giggling again, and Sadie got this instant look on her face of something like shock.
“Oh, my God,” she exhaled in a breathless whisper.
I rubbed my whiskers on Dean’s thigh, forcing another violent spasm out of him, and consequently in her as well. I left her to work on his dick with that skill she was growing in by the day under my tutelage and crawled around to her business end.
I was on my knees straddling the top of Dean’s head and rubbing the head of my dick against the trailing edge of her cunt while he licked and slurped away only barely cognizant of my presence. I eased my cock into her, my balls resting on his forehead. I could see her head moving in an easy rhythm up and down on him. Good girl, I thought. I pushed my cock into her and felt the warmth of Dean’s tongue on the base of my shaft. He began to explore my balls and was attempting to take on more and more of me with each stroke, working for a hold on the end of my cock to maneuver with. He managed it, and I was suddenly sliding in and out of his mouth and then alternately into her with every third or fourth stroke. Eventually I was pushing in and out of those beautiful full lips of his and keeping it there for him to gorge himself on for a bit. Never interrupt someone who is following his bliss. Feng shui’n all that
Suffice to say that boy was a good, good cocksucker, and he’d of never had the foggiest notion a that had we not hooked up that fine night in the fellowship of a neighborhood twelve-step meeting. They’re good for something, at least, and everyone serves in some way, be it making coffee, or helping to round out the experiences of others prior to their complete and abject surrender to some sort of orderly direction in their lives. I am a catalyst for change in the lives of many, an agent of Chaos, and a trickster with a willin dick, by God. And I was gonna have this boy’s ass before the night was out; that was a certitude in my mind.
I returned from my momentary reflection and pushed Sadie away, red-cheeked and winded, from her labors and attacked that boy’s business with a purpose. I pushed Sadie upright, so that her koochie flattened out over his face and bore down on his gigglin tongue while she shook and flailed about with her arms to keep from swooning, causing him to giggle more. She was a women possessed by the best muff dive of her life, and that all an unintended consequence of my skilled playing of the strings of his body. I knew she was in for a good one momentarily.
I worked my way down between his legs, burrowing in with fiendish purpose, this dog was huntin up some booger. I raised his legs and made for the sweet spot and heard Sadie shriek as Dean bucked with my whiskered face buried off in his booty. That sweet boy smelled like soap tinged with sweat, God bless him. His mama earned points from me, I’ll tell you that much. The fact that I like nothing more than to dive on a boy, don’t mean that I’m some sort of potty freak. Far from it. If your ass smells like, well, ass, forget it. I don’t care if you’re too pretty for Calvin Klein, you need to wash up your pie before you come lookin to me for a ride on this blessed mug.
I came up after a few minutes of steady buttmunching and, wiping the sweat from my face, asked, “Like that, boy?”
“Lord!” I think was the muffled response, and Sadie giggled, “Mug, I like this one!” Her tits bounced and reverberated the tremor passing through the rest of her body and beginning between her legs.
“That’s nice, hon. Get down here on this for a second.”
I reached up to the table and got the little vial with the coke in it and unscrewed the lid. I dawbed a miniscule little onto my finger and spread his cheek with the other hand and patted the powder onto his little rosebud. I could tell Sadie was grinning, and she missed a stroke and almost choked. I looked at her in stern reproach. I repeated the application of the coke and then dove in once more, briefly, to tenderize my objective and just enjoy myself. My God, but that boy had a fine ass, smooth and firm and hairless with a pink little pooter that now made my tongue numb from the addition of the topical analgesic powder as I dove. He was ripe, and by God, I’ll strike while the iron’s hot.
I was oiled up and driving in with his legs in the air before he snapped to what was actually happening. He seemed inordinately accommodating, so I don’t think there was a tremendous amount of pain on his end. That boy had good pussy; I’ll tell you what. All these observations took place in the span of one-half stroke of my cock as he bucked up and into the back of Sadie’s throat, causing her to gag violently and spit up some kind of goo all over his nuts as she ground down with her pussy on his face, muffling his sudden cry, “Loo-oooo-oooo-rrrrd!”
“Oh yeah,” I soothed, remaining tenuously in the saddle and gripping his thighs, “that feels good, boy, and you know it. Yer gonna choke this girl. Eat that pussy and let us work on you. There ya go. Ease down on that some more and tell me that don’t feel good inside you. Goddamn, but it feels damn good on this end. We can do this all night, boy.”
I was steady stroking, and he was steady moving his ass like a newfound bottom boy with a mission to realize the mastery of his craft in as short a time as possible. He and Sadie were both moaning low and sliding back and forth. I dripped sweat onto their shining bodies and watched my cock sliding in and out of that boy’s hole while his legs tensed in rhythm with his ass and gripped me, pulling me into him greedily. I began to move more mechanically, slapping home with each thrust and forcing a hiccupped moan breathed into Sadie’s cunt as it lathered his face. I could hear him taking his breath in gasps. Sadie’s face was red, eyes shut and mouth working hungry at his cock. His crotch was dripping wet beneath the two of us, and my exertions met with a moist smacking noise with each new thrust.
“Feels good, don’t it?” I grunted, panting a bit now.
His moans were low and steady, his legs tensing as he made ready to blow the back of Sadie’s skull off with a good quart of jizz.
I’ll admit. I lost any cool I had. I was carryin on and coachin and hollerin to beat hell. I was talking him through this like a bad landing, and he was buckin and rollin like he’d gone feral when I introduced him to anal sex. We were all grinding it up to a steady pitch, and I was the first to blow. I gripped his legs and plowed in as hard as I could and felt his whole ass clamp down on me like a fist while my cock exploded a well-earned bucket of cream gravy on his gizzard. I know he was out of his mind about this time. Sadie was moaning really loud, which was always her signal that she was about to open the floodgates. All I can say is, one of the reasons I liked three-ways with Sadie so much was that didn’t have to be on the receiving end of those facials of hers. She knew that and thought it was a grand joke, but she was oblivious to anything at the moment. I was still pressed hard into Dean’s ass while she let loose on those lips of his – those lips, my God. She raised up for only a moment to stretch her jaw and take a good long breath, and then returned to his cock in a determined and accomplished effort. Within a few seconds I noticed his nuts contracting and his feet pointing out past my head towards the stars above.
“OoooooOooooooooOoooooohhhhhh!” he gurgled in spasms from beneath her tropical bush, and suddenly, I pushed Sadie’s head down as far as it would go and held it there for a good four seconds. I know that boy was in heaven. I know for a fact that he’d been cut loose from a realm of experience in which he had remained trapped his entire life. He was set free into a completely new dimension of existence for that brief time, and I’ll cheerfully and dutifully take full credit for that fact. Glad I could help, dammit.
Sadie wasn’t quite as enraptured with me at just that moment. Rising up from his sopping wet cock and choking for air, she reached over quickly and squeezed my balls into a space about one fourth the size of their normal volume, and released them, grinning up at me. I fell to one side and decided to rest for a few minutes curled up like that. No need to move just yet. I think Dean was still off somewhere. He’d crossed over and been handed the tablets about the time he came into Sadie’s diaphragm while my cock was jammed up somewhere in his pancreas filling him with my Milk of Human Kindness. By God, a good healthy exchange of my bodily fluids is a spiritual thing when you really look at it right. Is for me, in any case.
I ran around with Dean quite a bit after that, but I never fucked him again. Didn’t really try to. We fooled around a couple of time when we were tripping, but he had started going with this pre-op tranny down at the bar who was one of the biggest coke suppliers in Oak Lawn. He ended up one of her kept boys and did a couple of years in the penitentiary behind that relationship. Still, he was one of the better pieces of ass I ever had, for someone with so little experience; he was somewhat of a natural, I think. I don’t know what he’s doing nowadays. It’s been eight or nine years since I last saw his ass, but he’ll likely look that good until he’s near fifty. He’s just one of those timeless ones. I’ll look him up someday and have another go at it. I always thought I did a good thing by turnin that boy out, but he went down a bad road when he started hanging out with those Mexican drag queens over in
2 October 2007 - health stuff
I'm a little freaked out about all of this.
I have a lot of friends. I know that there are plenty of people who care about me. I still feel lonely in this for some reason.
I trust that everything is fine. I initially did not take this very seriously, because I've always been rather indestructible. I don't like the sense of fragility that I've experienced over the last couple of days, and weeks really. I don't like the idea of being an invalid, and that's what it feels like right now. I've always felt so robust; I've taken risks precipitously.
I miss the people in my life who I've driven away because I was such a loner. This is where that sort of self-centeredness on my part comes home to roost. Nobody is here. Odd how my prized independence seems rather hollow at the moment. I've loved three guys in my life. One died years ago, and the other two are off on their own sleeping next to someone else tonight. That's the breaks.
I've been eaten up by fear and resentment the last few days, and I've lost that rhythm I had to my life only a year ago. I can have that back with a little effort on my part and the willingness to be uncomfortable. I'm already having some clarity - some of that "picture from 20,000 feet" that gives me the peace to handle the daily-ness of my life.
I'm tired. The medicine they gave me for my heart puts me off my feed and feeling weak. I don't like it. I want to be able to walk for miles again without feeling knocked down by it. I'm glad, at least, that this has freed me of the craving for a cigarette. I just wish I didn't feel quite so weak.
I never felt so alive as when I was walking in Minneapolis in the coldest weather I'd ever experienced. I never felt so free. I've been back there in my head a lot lately for some reason. I don't want to move back up north, but I've been nostalgic for those cold days and harsh winter weather.
I can't eat or drink anything until after the first phase of my tests tomorrow. I feel like a pussy for being scared of all this, but there it is.
I miss Cody a lot this week, and I feel alone. I was so very hard on him, and I wish I could take it back. But I push everyone away eventually. The fruit doesn't fall far from the tree, and if I'm lucky, I suppose I'll grow old and alone and tell myself that that's the way I wanted it all along. It could be worse. At least I enjoy my own company most of the time. I really screwed the pooch on my relationships, even though I loved as best I could. There are a lot of people much worse off than I am, however. And there are a lot of guys who would probably cheerfully trade places with me in most of my circumstances.
I've been having pain in my chest most of the day off and on, but that may be from the medication they gave me. I'm going to get up at 7am, which is two hours later than usual. I can't drink any coffee in the morning, and I don't think I'm even supposed to have any liquids at all. So there won't be much to do but check my bank account and my messages and head out to the heart doctor and be ready to get it over with.