Too Old For This

There have been days lately which passed without any email check or online activity at all on my part. Not much was happening in real life either. But plenty going on internally. I was not much of a benefit to anyone I guess. No one around to benefit.

That damned cloud of sorrow that has chased me most of my life returned to taunt me. I've got no idea what it is about. Certainly not what got it started. But, over time, it has caused action and, more often, inaction, which resulted in feeding that creature so that there are now specific reasons for its existence. I'm fed up with it, and have been for some time. It saps energy on every level.

I guess few worthwhile things come without a fight of some kind or a bit of pain. So, may as well just go ahead whether the maudlin me has the energy to do it or not.

The one thing that I seem to be able to do, regardless, is play when I get together with my musical friends, the Copper Creek band. Often I am but a shell of myself, but when the music starts, I play. That is a small but fortunate reprieve.

The rest amounts to just doing what I don't want to do, and what seems physically as well as mentally painful. My stomach does flipflops whenever I begin to deal with the personal mess of tangibly organizing and sorting things. In there are keys to projects which would be of benefit if pursued.

I still hold to my view that one is best off if he falls in love, marries fairly young, soon has children, and dedicates himself to providing for his family financially, spiritually, and emotionally. Filter all through what best serves them. And be damned sure when you get married that you're both on the same page regarding kids. It is odd to discover after splitting up that she never wanted kids. Sure was a shocker to me. I used to openly express my wish for an odd number between five and nine, inclusive.
Although I'd settle for one or two if I had to. Too late now.

I've seen people who do all they can to discourage their kids from getting married before they are forty. Mostly, some women who married young for the wrong reasons tend to vicariously live through daughters in an unhealthy way. I said some so don't assume a blanket generality. But it seemed those to whom I refer want their daughters to sample all the sausage in the state before settling down. Must be a way to make up for what Mom thinks she missed.

*just to assure anyone who thinks I speak of them, that is doubtful. Don't know anyone lately who is in that boat. Maybe it is a southern thing.

Guess the grass is always greener. I'd have been better off and happier with a little less distribution of affection, and a lot more commitment to responsibility. Now I see no motive for much responsibility. Just the small drive which starting over against odds brings.

No one to blame but myself. The world is what it is. Blaming it does no good, that's for sure. Things are possible. The end.

In The Clouds

All day long Ballistic Mountain has been in the clouds. It is misty and water flows in the roof gutter as if it is raining. That is common here. If the cloud is at your elevation, there is nowhere for the rain to fall, so moisture just clings to things and rolls where it can.

The San Diego climate is definitely unique. At the coast it is perpetually springtime. Move a few miles east and it alternates between summer and spring for most of the year with occasional cold snaps. A cold snap there is rarely below freezing.

Go another 10 miles or so east toward my locale and you get into semi desert heat, semi mountainous cold. If we are lucky maybe we'll get real snow. It rarely gets into the 30's but it happens. Go down the hill and head west a few miles and it warms up.

Overall it is almost too perfect. If it is overcast for more than four or five hours it has the same gloomy influence on mood that long fall and winter sunshine deprivation has on people in the northwest and other northern areas. It only takes a little variation from perfect for people to get anxious over heat, cold or rain. To an outsider, it seems trivial at first, but something about the place causes those variations to have more impact than you would think. Why rain induces this land of tailgaters to follow even more closely, I haven't a clue.

So, now that I am a citizen of the land of fruits and nuts, this bit of gloomy weather has taken its toll. Why am I here? Will I ever come to grips with the things I regret in my life? Will I ever quit fighting depression and the lack of direction? Will I ever quit finding excuses to be alone? I'm not sure I can answer yes to any of those questions, and believe it. But, I probably should not give up.

I've removed myself from good opportunity in all those things time after time. I wonder why. Along the way, I think the idea that I had to avoid my true nature became ingrained. The truth is that I am, in part, a gregarious, social being. My life over the last many years, and on and off for most of the time has been rather isolated and solitary. Almost all of it through my own doing or neglect. It has again begun to wear thin.

The answer can only be one thing: become a gigolo. That would bring in income and provide a social life as well. Noting that there may not be much market for someone whose youth is only a memory tends to put a damper on the plan. I am thinking of targeting the deaf, dumb and blind--not meant in any politically incorrect sense, you understand. The problem is what medium to use in order to reach this market.