Pointless

"Yours is a mind that contains many, many rooms with bolted doors. When you enter into any given room then you are horrified and devastated only to run and slam the door behind. Though, heart-wrenching to experience such a room, you continue on through each room in a similar manner in some grand hope to conquer this maze. This would not be so bad if you could consolidate these chambers into one sky-view so that you may see that they are all there in the same building.

Instead, you forget the last room ... and the room previous to that ... and so on. You forget to the point that you often forge on into the same room many times only to needlessly re-experience the terror as if you had never known such insanity before. I do not need to tell you that this is self-defeating. It is not detail you need ... it is not necessary to live in these rooms again ... it is not necessary to even leave the doors open .. but you will need to know that they ALL exist and what they ALL represent. You cannot proceed further until you master this."

Two Tickets - One Person

So, I've been trying to move on since the divorce. I've moved out of the small apartment to something a little larger and more comfortable. Trudging along, I continue in my therapy while trying to hold down a job that might die in a few months. Except for the viral/flu/whatever-bout, my health has been overall better.

Those moments still happen though ... for example, I'll come across an old shirt or something that smells of our home together and then I start to cry. He does well without me but I miss him terribly. Then today someone at work was offering box seats to MLB games that were still available and I automatically selected the Cubs tickets without realizing that I'm not the Cubs fan ... the Cubs fan has gone on without me. Now I have two tickets to a game but only myself to take.

The Queen

I watched the "Secret Life of Bees" tonight. Yes, I know that I probably should not have. Having read the book, I swore off going to the theater to see it but somehow it ended up on my Blockbuster list and arrived in the mail yesterday.

Nothing horrific in the movie -- it was fairly typical ... I don't do well with anything associated with someones mother-issues. Psychoanalysts get a bad rap when they end up all trips around the couch with something someones mother did or did not do but it is not because they are off the mark.

That is all I can manage to say about that which I cannot think, even more, speak of. Some of us will die if stung by a bee. I think I would die if I even spoke of one out loud.

One Soup Bowl

That Friday morning I had awoken with a sore throat and noticed white lumps growing inside. The move was the next day so I kept packing way into the AM. By Saturday afternoon the growths had spread up and down both sides of my throat so I found my bed amidst mounds of cardboard boxes and crawled in for the night but it was not long until I was oscillating between chills and hot flashes.

I was sick and alone in a strange house so I phoned someone who informed me that I definitely had the strep and needed to gargle and get lots of fluids. Feverish, I stumbled through the place but could not manage to find anything but an oddly-shaped soup bowl/cup. I was afraid I would die so I gargled and drank out of this until the next day when I could get to a doctor.

With no phone or Internet, I felt completely isolated since I could not Google to locate a doctor or find a pharmacy or view strep symptoms.

There was no one else to call and certainly no one to help. I do not know how I made it through the next five days. At some point I managed to locate a can of soup. The thought that I would die alone and know one would notice for a long time kept playing through in my head.

Boxes of stuff -- this is really the sum of my existence on this planet. This many decades and my only proof of me lie in some cardboard boxes. I've produced no family, little furniture, and no home. It seems as if I have worked allot but I am not sure what. Education? My sanity?

These things do not make for the best companionship in my new world.