The SFC blew my mind on Sunday with the admission that she moved to our new place in part (and I am being generous with that!) to accommodate me! She said that were it NOT for me, she'd still be in her old place.

WTF! She could have loaned me the money she spent for her inconvenient move and let me go out west!! I wouldn't have needed as much funding to get to where I want to go and I would have paid her back!!

And how is THIS for further irony... not only did I want to wait to tie up my F.O.C. business in Detroit (which is further expense and with another previously unforseen layer to unwrap) but I also figured my late spring arrival in Omaha would keep me from getting hit with a harsh winter. Been that way for boxing matches and stationed there (c'mon... Kansas and Iowa counts as flyover land with Nebraska) so I expected that I could get hit with a hard winter.

Moving to Virginia, I have found myself literally in the storm of the century! Getting back to the SFC, I don't wonder where her rationale comes from as much as I don't care enough about it.

She also tried to open conversation about 'us' and what do we have here.

A FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE

If there is anything that I 'did', it could be that I misunderstood the 'Darkhorse Concept' that I created, to account for the unseen stuff that always finds its way into my plans. It wasn't that I was supposed to yield to it, but it was something I was meant to overcome.

Looking around, all I can think of is the life that I hoped to have when I left home. I'd box and serve like Carlos Elliot. Over twenty years I have been at sea with a broken mast...

I kept seeing my sisters when I thought about what happened with her in Korea. And more irony... when I came home, my sisters stopped being 'for me'. I told Twin B (it is either call them 'A&B' or Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee!) that whatever reason they had, I was still their brother and that should have meant something.

So I loved her so much as a friend that I felt compelled to gravely damage my own life. Makes perfect sense, right?

Now this was the SECOND time that she said something 'deathless'. The other is more of an 'thought', since I can't put it with the concrete of a quote. In fact, both are more conceptual than one single 'thing'.

Whenever I get the idea that someone made the same mistake again in the love life, I take offense. If they knew that they were going off on a lark, then why are they hasslin' me? See with the SFC, I told her about my plan and it wasn't until after she heard it that...

... well, that I DID IT AGAIN. For her. Took my life and my fate and cast it away. So the idea that she has made a major change to accomodate me (like hinting that she hasn't been to see her boys since I have been in the picture) in her world, is insulting to me.

What I want to see happen when the time for me to leave arrives.

More For Probative Value Than Anything

FROM THE FIRST OF FEBRUARY, TWENTY-TEN (LEFT IN A JOURNAL SOMEWHERE AS A 'COMMENT')


The static. That is what life has become for me. And my friend Nebraska could verify my use of words like 'static' and 'noise' to describe how I feel my way through my life. Words like 'environment' and 'atmosphere' also have layered meanings as well as the word 'context'.

That is what stood out in this entry. Man, it is true... the first sentence has to set the hook for the reader.

The loneliness of habits and the resonance of the empty spaces in my soul... I was only last night explaining to my SFC that I remember the debate between me and an older cousin about the spinnings of the world.

"The world is moving at a certain speed, a terminal velocity. You will either have to move with it or be left behind. You will need help to keep up with it because no man is an island."

This he said to a teenager who was paranoid from the experience of having people trample through his soul. It created a fissure small enough to let insecurity, indecision, and all the other 'in' things from way out come into what would pass for my reality.

Hindsight says I should have effected repair to the crack. Wondering about things like the Visitors and their concerns that will linger in my mind like the decaying isotope of radioactive material was not worth the brief enternity that they spent in my life.

The friends I know... are they really friends? I don't know if I know them well enough to even call them friends. They have their own darkness, as does many of us who live on this sphere, looking and waiting for the opportunity to emerge from their mouths.

As the tendrils swirl around me, envloping me with their words and porcelain promises, I feel less connected to who I am. And if there is anything corrupted, it is the link that I have with the enternal source of everything.

I am here. You (they) are so far away.

The blind spot... from where you don't expect and did not prepare for. And all this time, I had considered myself immune to... I don't know if it is a toxin or not. Right now I tremble, filling with doubts.

"The static doesn't dwell only in you," I tell myself. That brings little comfort, and no peace or solace. And I tell this only to myself, because it isn't comiseration that I am looking for.