Dave

...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.