I don't know, sometimes it feels like I just can't breath...

 I don't know, sometimes it feels like I just can't breath...

I only listen to Mountain Goats, but this song speaks to me

I guess I do it to myself, just sitting there feeling some sort of imagined pressure, unimagined people that I know looking at me, and fee that the weight of my vast kingdom counting on me.  It's always been that way, never been able to really articulate it to anyone that cares.  

In my private moments, though, there are times when I have a plan.  Places to go, people to see, etc..  I try to remember them from time to time, but they are just fading images.  It's strange... I can see them so clear, the plan is rock solid, then it is gone.  Maybe it was never there in the first place.  

I don't feel any real connection to any certain place or occupation, but always seem to revert to feeling I am in the wrong place and occupation...

Meh, not trying to have a pity party here.  Just putting this out in the world as a reality that I feel.  I am the master of my own destiny and I will have my place in the warm sun.  

We had some discussions, when I was in rehab, about the best country to run away to.  People had differing opinions.  Portugal seemed popular, but I was really trying to sell Peru.  The southern tip of south America, Patagonia, has always had a fascination for me, be a vaquero or just herd penguins, I don't know.

It is always a waiting game, waiting for something different to happen, and being mildly pleased or displeased when they do or do not happen.

How did people like David Gilmour have their shit together enough to write the dark side of the moon?  How desperate do people actually need to get to in order to be great artists...  I knew the answer when I was 18.  Can't go back there anymore... shoot.

 First post (that you know of) so let's keep it simple...

Here is Hotel Eden doing Nimble Girl:

Starting off non-offensive, that I know of...  The offensive parts will come later.  I assume I am going to say FUCK sooner than later, so be warned.  Right now, though, I am mostly sad and time traveling through old songs that make me a bit weepy.  INXS, the Cowboy Junkies, Chris Isaak...haven't ventured to a few others because I'm not really a glutton for that, and I'm not trying to time travel to placed that can't house me know.  Oh, they are not forgotten, I can still smell them, feel the touch/heat/cold, or just the smile on a face.  But it does me no good hugging on to the ghosts of the past.

I may GO THERE at some time, there are people I was to call out, compare memories with, before we ultimately shrug our shoulders thinking of what may have been.

Right now, this minute, same as last night, I love my wife as mush as I ever have, all the moments and smiles and touches and laughs... although they are aa mile away today.  I am going to try to reduce that distance.  It might be a fools errand, But I am noting if not a fool.  Bug I can have oodles of charm when I want to/

 

Hol' up!  Before you start thinking that last post was about you  it can really only be about 1 or fewer people currently in my life.  Although, since my life isn't a rich and diverse ecosystem at the moment, it really only applies to YOU!  Which reminds me of another song:

Didn't want there to be any confusion, there's only 1 "my old lady" in the world, who I love with all my heart despite everything going on in the world, close in and far apart, but I'm afraid we only have What little remains

XX days injury/accident free

Ladies and Gents, I am on a bummer tonight, and it's not just because I've been listening to Animals by Pink Floyd  , which is bound to happen... but I don't know.  I could be because of the holidays coming up, or my imminent return to work (a job I loathe) or it could be because my wife, who decided to leave me (and I said "ok") decided she was lonely living in an old ladies spare room and wanted to move back in (and I said "ok"), with all the baggage that comes along with it.

And I'M the one with their back against the wall for completing a 30 day stint in rehab and "fucking everything up" and leaving "a fucking mess behind that I am going to need to clean up" and what not and ho-hum... 

I'm NOT the one that seems to have a boyfriend in prison for murdering their girlfriend mother of their children, while violating a restraining order and already having just recently gotten out of jail for the same or similar crimes.  "but he has nobody, his family obviously isn't going to help him and blah blah blah"... maybe I'm projecting a bit, but this wasn't what I was expecting when I came out of rehab fresh and clean.

It's the half truths and outright silence around the goings on in what is supposed to be somewhat OUR personal lives that kills me... and I feel like a puppy dog that keeps coming back, just to get kicked down, in the off chance that the one time in 1000 there is actually going to be a treat and a scratch bethind the ears.  Instead I get silence and fowl looks when she either thinks I'm not looking or just doesn't care.

It was a mistake letting her move back in, but I thought it meant a little something.  It really doesn't.  

I've been meaning to take the high road, but fuck that, really...  she doesn't get that either.  

What it really boils down to, when I'm not whimpering to myself, is that I need to look out for ME and define what it is that I really want in the world, and how I will accept to be treated.  The Million Dollar Question, eh?!?!