I was always good at aliterations, or really I think I am, though my reading has definitely taken a tumble except for useless stories reported on still, too many news sites I am trying not to get too deep underneath. I think Facebook re-upped my account last night, but it isn't the account you can link up to me from here to see--sorry if some of you have requested my friendship--it's to a dead profile simply because. Well, because trolls, that's why. But I think it got lit up at midnight Saturday night since they only really let you opt out for 7 days. Which is a travesty, because sometimes you need more than a week to heal. I mean, shit, this whole past three weeks I have been mostly drunk every night, save maybe two, and those were because we went to bed too early to really think drinking into it made any sense.
But now, now--I dunno. I haven't been having too many conversations with many people in the world, save, say, my birth father. Who has a whole right wing thing he abides by--and though he hasn't been able to really dismantle my claims, I suppose it is ...
Well, world, you certainly aren't looking any better today. I have committed myself to my social media fast, which means maybe 1 or 2 people MAY have come to view my diatribes, but I doubt it. I am the half-assed writer, the writer who leaves a stew of musings stuck up in my head, mostly because none of you care that much to have me vomit it out in the waves it comes into my brain, drowning out reality, suffocating possibility.
A friend of mine from work yesterday expressed a kind of alarm that has been stewing below my own surface, sometimes verbally manifested in my "we need to get the fuck out of here" monologues. His urgency was something I found a bit alarming, given he is one of the most rational and intelligent people I have come to know, though I have always wondered why he would stay in Denver. There's a definite lack of diversity, a missing culture of sorts, wrapped up and tangled into nothing more complex than yes, the fucking Broncos. It is the one qualifier here that seems to garner respect from strangers--say you like football (and especially the Broncos) and you are automatically good ...
It seems there is something to be said of media poisoning...if you pull yourself off of it and don't read anything, there's a definite lack of litmus to really guage much aside from your own feelings about things. Nobody to like your perspective on things, nobody to commiserate or empathize or even argue with you. It is just you and what you know....and sometimes you don't know enough.
Today I called my mother in Massachusetts, the one I grew up with, and found myself crying over how hurt I was about the world that is being fashioned around us. She made me feel only slightly better, and I told her I pulled myself off Facebook and so many other things...
What I did do the other day is order some books and played a scratch off lottery game--spending $20, winning $200, admittedly spending another $40 to win nothing so I stopped--you almost have to play scratch offs like I think you should approach all gambling, test the waters, if they are favorable, pocket some cash and walk away. I typically have feelings about these things which is why the night I won, I was drunk, well, admittedly drunk as I have ...
