...Monticello's Properties Jefferson calling Dave, come in Dave...
Weighing in at 158 and still dropping.
I am pissing sh*t out my *ss at the moment from days and nights of extreme diarrhea.
Living alone and being sick is not easy and I'm doing this all whilst having put in 55 hours in one week at work. I am sleep deprived from being sick and my gut not letting me sleep. I am dehydrated from the diarrhea. More - so much more is coming out than going in and its been only liquid anyway. And I have to shower and pull a night shift in this condition.
I'm guessing any content I upload gets automatically forced into a dark corner of the Web inaccessible to most... except you.
And I'm guessing you are going to remain concealed in your own dark corner.
And I don't think there is much more for me to say.
I still do not understand the radio silence and I don't suppose I ever will.
I keep hoping that some shred of humanity buried deep within you contacts me but you and I both know that won't happen. I am not nor ever will be the recipient of any shreds of humanity within you. In short I am just the miserable contents of a file that went across your desk and was as the title of this blog states shelved to obscurity. Or rather shredded to obscurity. Deleted.
Isn't there some sort of underling you can send my way on your behalf just so I can sort of come to some reasonable way to put all this past to rest. Ask a few questions that won't be answered. Get a pat on the head so to speak.
Or how about a call or text with mysterious coordinates to meet someone at. Barring all that could you just stop and consider my dimension of life for a meditative moments. No family, living alone, aging. permanently gut sick, working a lot with no benefits. All while being heavily dosed for Depression and a whole slew of things Veterans from recent deployments face despite my not having ever served.
When I look back on my life overseas and all I tried to cultivate there disintegrating so fast and being left with this here - its beyond chilling. I has been difficult in this decade since to wake up every day here trapped in the Rustbelt like this. Knowing of better places and better ways of life. And just having to keep my head down and be stuck here within the outer belt of a 2 or 3rd tier city. Stuck here and unable to connect with anyone content with this place.
And a latent fascination and infatuation set in - I will always see you as I did those times you had the light beard of yours grown out or perhaps it was a very convincing synthetic beard. But that is how I remember you. Youthful, bearded, cocky in professional ways and yet ultimately well mannered. When I was around you and your colleague cohort du jour and/or Mike - I enjoyed the exposure to your intellect - that was the refreshing privilege to my life confined within this Rustbelt city - getting to for a moment to relate to you - it felt like getting lifted out of this reality of ghetto meth head ex-con poverty and low education types. For a few brief moments I felt what it was like to be on an intellectual level closer to the one you inhabit. There hasn't been much of that here. Except in the brief moments I get to talk to a medical Doctor or Surgeon (and often times those are just students). What baffles me about the Rustbelt is how intellectually and economically segregated we are here. I'm not saying I am all that but I have to settle for hanging out with people who have not been to college and who have not been overseas. I don't understand their struggles with addiction and the Law anymore than I understand this economic and intellectual segregation I am trapped in.
Could you not in all your stealth like expertise meet me off the Grid of your affiliations past or present or future knowing. Could you not play some character and find a way to meet me. Maybe I am wrong but some kind of communication with you or at least your kind might help me be able to lay all this to rest somehow. Or maybe it wouldn't. Maybe it would just give me something more to write to about.
Is there nothing for you to learn or benefit from such a conversation with me. And if not could you then do this out of some sort of humanity gracious generosity that I know is well within your character.
Trust me you don't want to be me. You don't want to be confined in this life as I am. This life there are reasons it all added up to this non-existence that I have to abide with. I could inventory the chain of events and decisions that brought me here and left me here.
You turned me and won me over and yet to be honest I had a better life before that. Meet me at that DC Museum is probably too much to ask. I dunno - take my car for a drive - so you can literally and figuratively grasp just about the only fun I have in life. How about some cold war era like rendez-vous over Gin tonics.
All I can say is that I am living and working for and paying for my own existence. I am stuck in economic and social confinement and its only natural that in some odd way I am pining for some trans-dimensional communique from you.
Tuesday, September 26, 2017
Saturday, September 2, 2017
Left Behind
I'm weighing in at 162. Fatigue without fatigues or camo or anything mossy oaked.
At some point I realized no answer to these electronic flares were going to be answered. I tell myself my words so self published, however, furtively or dangerously were not going to be read by the intended person or agency or associates thereof I wrote them for. In a better world they would read these desperate construct of words and respond. A cameo in camo's would somehow manifest in my daily life. No business cards left stuck at the front door now. Mike and Dave - my very own Mike and Ike's. Well you threatened me with insanity and it happened so now what? Does this make you conclude you were successful or powerful that your words became a prophecy? Did you really see my attempt at life and free thinking as treasonous or a threat. Or was I just a curiosity for you to study? What were the moral implications of your interrogations that would play out in my personal life during your visits and well beyond. Just because you have the privilege to disappear - does that give you license to not consider the implications your work and disappearance would have on me to this day. My life is now confined in an economic strata between crack-heads, meth-heads, water-heads and "ho's" on the one hand to Nurses and Doctors on the other and in between its just retail servitude. This isn't a life. It's an existence - containment - nothing more. Had I just been taken down in those days when we met by some bullet or staged suicide - I'd argue that that would have perhaps been more humane that to build me up - to jerk my mind into thinking something genuine and "big" was happening and that I would useful. Useful is just all I have wanted to be - to whoever was paying the most for whatever cause. So that was a lie. Even though of course you said you wouldn't lie to me and that's another lie. Well I never lied to you even if I had a cloudy mind and couldn't always think clearly.
And still I think very highly of you (both). Even though you and I both know I shouldn't. I can't help it. I think very highly of you. I still feel and believe it was a privilege to meet with you. And I write this knowing your contempt and obvious critical analysis at my pathetic attempt at life. With all your brilliance and intellect did you ever stop to think what it must be like to be trapped in the capsule of my life with its intellectual and emotional limitations. Did you give thanks for that. Were you aware of how badly I wanted to break out of this encapsulation of my mortal and mental existence. And that if couldn't do that how much I just wanted to work (outside of retail) for a viable or livable wage.
Were you aware of how I wanted to pin all my medical bills to the wall in my living room and blow my brains out on those bills - spraying my brains on them - so that when my body was found weeks later someone would know why I had done it. And somehow in that equation I could think someone examining all that would care or understand.
And like a bad crush I still can't get you out of my mind - either of you - still. It's been how long now. I think about you more times that I feel comfortable admitting. A few times a day - still. Just as I do my ex - still. Mike and Ike left. My ex pushed me out of our home and life overseas. My mother had passed away - then my father - then Rebecca - then Margo - and of course Rusty. And where did this leave me. I ask myself why was I left behind. Left behind - two words that haunt me and now define everything about me. Left behind and left in a mental health and gut disease syndrome I wouldn't wish on anyone. Left behind in isolation and self doubt.
Infatuated with you guys to the point of blind faith. Still. I literally would have done anything you told me to and I would have naively thought it would have been alright. At least you did not use that dynamic to dispose of me. That is to your moral credit. But what if you had just given my failing life some help or support - how would things be different now. Perhaps I would have gotten out of retail which as I told you is all I have ever wanted. And possibly had a less crushing mental health illness. Likewise would it really be so taxing to reappear in my life to assist me in finding a way to grasp and file away my experiences with you. Whisked off to DC with some decent hotel accommodation and a couple visits. Or even just here. I miss the magic that you brought with your time. I wish you knew what it was like to witness that from my end. Mostly I just wish you wanted me to talk to you rather than me wishing I could talk to you.
At some point I realized no answer to these electronic flares were going to be answered. I tell myself my words so self published, however, furtively or dangerously were not going to be read by the intended person or agency or associates thereof I wrote them for. In a better world they would read these desperate construct of words and respond. A cameo in camo's would somehow manifest in my daily life. No business cards left stuck at the front door now. Mike and Dave - my very own Mike and Ike's. Well you threatened me with insanity and it happened so now what? Does this make you conclude you were successful or powerful that your words became a prophecy? Did you really see my attempt at life and free thinking as treasonous or a threat. Or was I just a curiosity for you to study? What were the moral implications of your interrogations that would play out in my personal life during your visits and well beyond. Just because you have the privilege to disappear - does that give you license to not consider the implications your work and disappearance would have on me to this day. My life is now confined in an economic strata between crack-heads, meth-heads, water-heads and "ho's" on the one hand to Nurses and Doctors on the other and in between its just retail servitude. This isn't a life. It's an existence - containment - nothing more. Had I just been taken down in those days when we met by some bullet or staged suicide - I'd argue that that would have perhaps been more humane that to build me up - to jerk my mind into thinking something genuine and "big" was happening and that I would useful. Useful is just all I have wanted to be - to whoever was paying the most for whatever cause. So that was a lie. Even though of course you said you wouldn't lie to me and that's another lie. Well I never lied to you even if I had a cloudy mind and couldn't always think clearly.
And still I think very highly of you (both). Even though you and I both know I shouldn't. I can't help it. I think very highly of you. I still feel and believe it was a privilege to meet with you. And I write this knowing your contempt and obvious critical analysis at my pathetic attempt at life. With all your brilliance and intellect did you ever stop to think what it must be like to be trapped in the capsule of my life with its intellectual and emotional limitations. Did you give thanks for that. Were you aware of how badly I wanted to break out of this encapsulation of my mortal and mental existence. And that if couldn't do that how much I just wanted to work (outside of retail) for a viable or livable wage.
Were you aware of how I wanted to pin all my medical bills to the wall in my living room and blow my brains out on those bills - spraying my brains on them - so that when my body was found weeks later someone would know why I had done it. And somehow in that equation I could think someone examining all that would care or understand.
And like a bad crush I still can't get you out of my mind - either of you - still. It's been how long now. I think about you more times that I feel comfortable admitting. A few times a day - still. Just as I do my ex - still. Mike and Ike left. My ex pushed me out of our home and life overseas. My mother had passed away - then my father - then Rebecca - then Margo - and of course Rusty. And where did this leave me. I ask myself why was I left behind. Left behind - two words that haunt me and now define everything about me. Left behind and left in a mental health and gut disease syndrome I wouldn't wish on anyone. Left behind in isolation and self doubt.
Infatuated with you guys to the point of blind faith. Still. I literally would have done anything you told me to and I would have naively thought it would have been alright. At least you did not use that dynamic to dispose of me. That is to your moral credit. But what if you had just given my failing life some help or support - how would things be different now. Perhaps I would have gotten out of retail which as I told you is all I have ever wanted. And possibly had a less crushing mental health illness. Likewise would it really be so taxing to reappear in my life to assist me in finding a way to grasp and file away my experiences with you. Whisked off to DC with some decent hotel accommodation and a couple visits. Or even just here. I miss the magic that you brought with your time. I wish you knew what it was like to witness that from my end. Mostly I just wish you wanted me to talk to you rather than me wishing I could talk to you.
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