I think in certain situations in life it is okay to fucking freak out and lose your shit, but there's never a hell of a lot of time to sit inside a shitty diaper, reveling in the stink. It doesn't fucking help, and once you lay it out factually, it is much easier to contend with the larger meaning.
So it appears I was right about the dying thing. I mean, Jesus, could you imagine me saying that of everyone you've run across? Of COURSE you were always dying you might nod to yourself, but I had certain ways I existed that didn't really acknowledge that too much. Yeah I might acknowledge it here but who the fuck wants to talk about that shit all the time or even infrequently in most situations? Not me. Not interesting really to too many people ultimately. I never acted like I was except in hysterical ways, to lighten the mood up or soften the blow but it appears the blood clot could be very related to the idea of the broken hip. Within 5 years 30% experience another clot. 30% die within the first 6 months and 37% within the first year. ...
I need alliterations as they keep it all interesting.
Last night I was a real human being. I went to the funeral service of a friend really to accompany another friend. The deceased I did not know well nor did I have too many personal conversations with, but the gesture was genuine. She was a sweet person--but is just a touch younger than my own father right now, and that is easy for me to see was a long and full life. This is not to discount the amount of love she seemed to bring to the world, one could only hope to have such an impact on so many lives. Some do not seem to enjoy such acclaim. I am kind of half ready to have my service be a small party among like what, 5 people. My relatives you wouldn't want to have to deal with too much. No churches. No thanks.
The other incarnations of writers present last night were also great people ultimately--T, super fucking talented but hard for me to find common ground with as I think right now everyone is writing but me. B is, she is my one rock. Someone else I ...
Today is my father's birthday. My dad, as it were---the one I grew up with calling that. I generally try to denote these people but let's say at this point the maternal end of things is undone and in knots and not easy to resolve because of my own welling distrust of really anyone but Don. I want to think I am a more evolved person but nothing for us has been easy and at this point, any ease achieved I feel has to be mightily protected. I rarely leave the house and have been playing put this in my shopping cart with the grocery store over the past few days. My joy is only in food as that right now brings me the only demarcation of anything new happening. I can make something that makes me feel pretty damn accomplished, you know, cooking at all. Sometimes I look for the recipe I want and modify it, but sometimes I am just looking for something focused around an ingredient. I make really fucking great food now and there was a time I really didn't. Thank the food prep boxes and some of my own interests in not sucking ...
