Heavy Saturday
It's been cold the past two days, but sunny. Today is different. Cold and threatening rain.
I woke up shivering.
The Weight : .
I did a lot of work on the computer yesterday designing a home page for GFs home salon website. It took the life out of me. As I have explained before, I haven't the stamina to go for long stretches. EMF fatigue and nerve condition, inhibit me from pushing through the dull membrane that is our existence. So I'm spent. Sometimes I try to find light in the never ending dull'drum (doldrum) that is our lives. Task list too long to execute. Dreams too many to pursue. What's a poor boy to do? Conscience that prevents me from finding my true passion and finding things to do that inspire me, seem to be a distant memory from some past life, which I can no longer easily access.
Writers have written about melancholy, how it grips us like an octopus in its tentacled seaweed. And all we need is Love. H.P. Lovecraft, Cthulthu lurks in the shadows just behind the sunset. There is a war going on, and we're not invited, thankfully.
Today I feel like I'm just dealing with my shadow, without a doubt, sadness of loss, memories of happier times that no longer are, guilt fear blame anger hate anxiety worry, humans are fooked!
During the Covid shutdown, I have been chipping away at getting my shit together and straightening out my studio. It has been hard doing it all by myself, and anyone I've tried to enlist help from seems to busy to care. So I just plug away at it day after day, week after week. I've been trying to resolve GFs web page for over 6 months now. I haven't been able to get both her attention or her take on what she wants it to say. So I dream up ideas and run them by her, but each time there seems to be something or someone in the way. Truly, I hate all the logins, security processes and building protocol that goes along with it. I used to be able to do the whole thing quickly, now I am only allowed to request changes on some over programmed digital template, that doesn't end up doing the job any way. I hate online banking. Even Amazon pisses me off with the typing and clicking. It's fucking insane, that we live in this matrix that just seems to be a giant typewriter. I try to get a person on the pone for online banking, since the banks are now closed, and they encourage me to go online. Only I resist it, because I prefer human contact to trying to figure out some faulty robot's shortcomings. Duh.
I've been trying to stay off social networking, but during Covid I haven't found anything much available to do, so I've pursued listening to music. I think I've done more posts in one day than I used to do in a week!
So I prayed and meditated to be rescued from this weight. This burden of living. My stomach was aching and feeling unsettled. I felt like I just wanted to sleep. The GF got up and I vacuumed the carpets and covered the dirt pile she got delivered yesterday to protect it from rain, and take in the seat covers from the lawn chairs she left out there last night visiting with a guest. I notice things out of place, manic obsessive trying to keep my world orderly and clean. I cleaned out the vacuum, she fills it, but never empties the bag. Same in the kitchen, she cooks and then moves on leaving everything behind. I can see now where her son gets his tardiness. At least she tried to clean up, teaching him by example, not to leave huge messes behind. He is no longer with us, so in her exhaustion, she has just let go of many things.
When she was working before Covid and I was on disability, I felt happy to clean up the rear, so to speak. She was making shared income, so I felt good to be able to contribute to our life in some direct way, and domestic engineer, suits me just fine. Just call me Kyle the house boy for a mistress who is quickly becoming an old maid. Life before Covid was a fucking treadmill. Our vehicle(s) kept falling apart, in need of repair, there was never enough to cover the bills, we cut back a lot in the last year. I may declare bankruptcy, once this thing ends. I see no way out of it again. Sometimes I just run out of breath, out of energy, needing to rest. I'm not used to that. I used to be like an Eveready bunny, running non-stop proficient. Then it all quit. My system can't take that kind of pace anymore.
Truthfully this is the first real time off GF has had in the last 13 years that I've known her. She deserves to just let go and find herself. It's been stressful running a business together and trying to rescue her son from dementia.
At this point I'm tired of thinking, what's for the next meal? I mean, that's all we've seemingly done is eat. I'm ready to change it up. The self-distancing is supposed to end this weekend, but there is fear that this is a false flag to get us to ramp up the case and force us to vaccinate, which is the moniker to dill us with the poison vaccine Bill Gates invented along with this false planned-emic. The word is that the elites are wanting to cull off the earth of human population and Agenda 21 was the first step to get us into the maze of cities so they could track us like rats, then execute the vaccine and administer death to the 99%. Fuck say..
So, today I resorted to cleaning, the house, my room, my studio, the vacuum, the broom, everything that looks out of place. I keep my house in order in case the angel might come in.
An instructing psychology professor at Toronto University said in his lectures that the simplest thing to reconcile with your depression or disfunction, is to clean up your room. That was true in spades for Nardo. We did get him to start taking some responsibility for himself in that regard. Piles of clothing mixed with food containers and dirty dishes, piled between music and video games. Hopefully the pressure was not too much for him that it is what caused him to exit this sweet old world.
As for Nardo, wherever he is, can you please tell your mom to clean up after herself?
Emmylou Harris-Sweet Old World Tribute to Gram Parsons
Emmylou's gorgeous rendition of Lucinda Williams' Sweet Old World, seems as though she is singing
to her mentor and probable lover, the late great Gram Parsons, father of alternative country.
Word of the day: "chariness" the opposite of careless (scrupulous integrity)
dr. π (pi)
.
I woke up shivering.
The Weight : .
I did a lot of work on the computer yesterday designing a home page for GFs home salon website. It took the life out of me. As I have explained before, I haven't the stamina to go for long stretches. EMF fatigue and nerve condition, inhibit me from pushing through the dull membrane that is our existence. So I'm spent. Sometimes I try to find light in the never ending dull'drum (doldrum) that is our lives. Task list too long to execute. Dreams too many to pursue. What's a poor boy to do? Conscience that prevents me from finding my true passion and finding things to do that inspire me, seem to be a distant memory from some past life, which I can no longer easily access.
Writers have written about melancholy, how it grips us like an octopus in its tentacled seaweed. And all we need is Love. H.P. Lovecraft, Cthulthu lurks in the shadows just behind the sunset. There is a war going on, and we're not invited, thankfully.
Today I feel like I'm just dealing with my shadow, without a doubt, sadness of loss, memories of happier times that no longer are, guilt fear blame anger hate anxiety worry, humans are fooked!
During the Covid shutdown, I have been chipping away at getting my shit together and straightening out my studio. It has been hard doing it all by myself, and anyone I've tried to enlist help from seems to busy to care. So I just plug away at it day after day, week after week. I've been trying to resolve GFs web page for over 6 months now. I haven't been able to get both her attention or her take on what she wants it to say. So I dream up ideas and run them by her, but each time there seems to be something or someone in the way. Truly, I hate all the logins, security processes and building protocol that goes along with it. I used to be able to do the whole thing quickly, now I am only allowed to request changes on some over programmed digital template, that doesn't end up doing the job any way. I hate online banking. Even Amazon pisses me off with the typing and clicking. It's fucking insane, that we live in this matrix that just seems to be a giant typewriter. I try to get a person on the pone for online banking, since the banks are now closed, and they encourage me to go online. Only I resist it, because I prefer human contact to trying to figure out some faulty robot's shortcomings. Duh.
I've been trying to stay off social networking, but during Covid I haven't found anything much available to do, so I've pursued listening to music. I think I've done more posts in one day than I used to do in a week!
So I prayed and meditated to be rescued from this weight. This burden of living. My stomach was aching and feeling unsettled. I felt like I just wanted to sleep. The GF got up and I vacuumed the carpets and covered the dirt pile she got delivered yesterday to protect it from rain, and take in the seat covers from the lawn chairs she left out there last night visiting with a guest. I notice things out of place, manic obsessive trying to keep my world orderly and clean. I cleaned out the vacuum, she fills it, but never empties the bag. Same in the kitchen, she cooks and then moves on leaving everything behind. I can see now where her son gets his tardiness. At least she tried to clean up, teaching him by example, not to leave huge messes behind. He is no longer with us, so in her exhaustion, she has just let go of many things.
When she was working before Covid and I was on disability, I felt happy to clean up the rear, so to speak. She was making shared income, so I felt good to be able to contribute to our life in some direct way, and domestic engineer, suits me just fine. Just call me Kyle the house boy for a mistress who is quickly becoming an old maid. Life before Covid was a fucking treadmill. Our vehicle(s) kept falling apart, in need of repair, there was never enough to cover the bills, we cut back a lot in the last year. I may declare bankruptcy, once this thing ends. I see no way out of it again. Sometimes I just run out of breath, out of energy, needing to rest. I'm not used to that. I used to be like an Eveready bunny, running non-stop proficient. Then it all quit. My system can't take that kind of pace anymore.
Truthfully this is the first real time off GF has had in the last 13 years that I've known her. She deserves to just let go and find herself. It's been stressful running a business together and trying to rescue her son from dementia.
At this point I'm tired of thinking, what's for the next meal? I mean, that's all we've seemingly done is eat. I'm ready to change it up. The self-distancing is supposed to end this weekend, but there is fear that this is a false flag to get us to ramp up the case and force us to vaccinate, which is the moniker to dill us with the poison vaccine Bill Gates invented along with this false planned-emic. The word is that the elites are wanting to cull off the earth of human population and Agenda 21 was the first step to get us into the maze of cities so they could track us like rats, then execute the vaccine and administer death to the 99%. Fuck say..
So, today I resorted to cleaning, the house, my room, my studio, the vacuum, the broom, everything that looks out of place. I keep my house in order in case the angel might come in.
An instructing psychology professor at Toronto University said in his lectures that the simplest thing to reconcile with your depression or disfunction, is to clean up your room. That was true in spades for Nardo. We did get him to start taking some responsibility for himself in that regard. Piles of clothing mixed with food containers and dirty dishes, piled between music and video games. Hopefully the pressure was not too much for him that it is what caused him to exit this sweet old world.
As for Nardo, wherever he is, can you please tell your mom to clean up after herself?
Emmylou Harris-Sweet Old World Tribute to Gram Parsons
Emmylou's gorgeous rendition of Lucinda Williams' Sweet Old World, seems as though she is singing
to her mentor and probable lover, the late great Gram Parsons, father of alternative country.
Click to viewWord of the day: "chariness" the opposite of careless (scrupulous integrity)
dr. π (pi)
.