Wednesday, March 5, 2014

I Feel Like Time is Slipping Away


  My time is slipping away. There are things that happen now (some for longer but I blew them off as "Big Deal" things), for instance, the fact that I have to force myself to east, and that I've put on weight, a couple of pounds is really good, by the way. I'm constantly tired. Not just "Fuck me! That was a long day at work!" tired, but worn out tired. I believe Baxter's activities are at the point they wear me out, morning through evening. I can drop off at any time, anywhere. All right, not when I'm driving. But, oh say Starbuck's. It was nice to have a local EMT to check on me. Embarrassing but nice. It's annoying. But at least I've a reason. I could say drugs, but I don't believe that's completely the problem.
  The other problem seems to be tying my restless leg syndrome into the start of an anxiety attack. That's what the Xanax, Valium, and now this other stuff is supposed to take care of.
Sunday, I let myself get so wound up, looking at the Hospice nurse and Liz faces, and seeing the absolute and honest concern for me, I said yes. Lovely place but I didn't like it there. It's sorta lonely for those of us having someone around nearly all day. And it's also very close to a nicely decorated hospital. That's why I like home best. It's not. My family are here. Even the damn dog was glad to see me. Liz and I figured out a way for me to sleep in our bed without choking to death on my own secretions. My 40 day run at bleeding out of the mouth have stopped for a time being. I don't mind that at all.

  So, why else do I feel like my life span is slipping away from me. Tiredness and anxiety shit isn't enough. Noooooo, I couldn't just settle for something easy like those two things. I see things in a different light now, that worries me some. As in "I've driven down this section of road for twenty years, seen it change. Anytime now could be the last time." and that fucks with me all day! Seriously, that's fucking weird. When I lose my temper, I look at the person I was angry with, realize it's not them, and then wonder how in the hell I'm going to fix that with what ever time I've got left to live? Those are the a couple of the weird shittin mental things that are getting to me. I don't get why, but they seem to bother me to no end. It's probably  that the emotional end of the bargain was something I had shoved into a very deep hole in the back of my mind. It's how I deal with a lot of things. When it's time, and I see that I can move along with thinking about them, I take em out, one at a time, mull it over, and if it's bad, I chunk that fucker. Not like a "bad memory" but "bad" in the sense of there's  no lesson to be learned from it at all. I believe these "end of time" things are from the place I stored all of the emotions that go with being terminal. I'm not certain, but I believe I'd been better off if I'd faced those live instead of memorex. But, that's not my style. I take the things that happen as they come, usually wipe out the bad shit, take what I can from it first, then burn it down and put it in the "This Was A Mistake" column and go from there.

s    Mostly, though, I see things as a circle. Death and dying isn't what is bothering me at all. Dying is what we all do. I just get my shot at it a damn sight earlier than I would have wanted. What could I have done in the next twenty or so years? Who knows! I do know I'd live that to the fullest. As I've always done. I do have the Amour De La Vie. Why would I change that now? No, the dying part isn't what bothers me, it's just another step to get to where I wanted to be in that long journey we all must take. Some folks claim death is it, that there is nothing else. No, they are wrong. There are thousands of other things up coming that your spirit is going to be around for and deal with. Reincarnation, that's one. We are made up of water and electrical charges, the stuff that makes it possible to type are the electrical shots into our nerves from out brains to our hands. That much juice running around, and people think it just stops? No, it changes, it becomes something else. Why not another person, or simply an entity to hang with. An occupant of Heaven. All good and reasonable choices. I know I have three warriors looking at me. I don't think any of them are here to change me. They may be here to guide me when the time comes. But, they are comforting. I dreamed about all three of them together the other night. Weird, too.  It was in Hospice House, actually right before I woke up to hit the head and rehydrate. Noticing that I was drier than a pop corn fart. But I digress.
  I walked past them all. Slowly too, because I can't get along very fast. I tend to get out of balance hauling ass. Something I have to bring up to my nurse.  Anyway, as I walked toward them the turned to face me, and as I past they lowered their heads and said "Not yet, closer, but not yet". From the Highlander, The Templar, The Viking, that's what each one said. I stopped and they gathered around in a circle with me as the center. It's not your time. Why!! I feel ready!. "No, not quite, but closer. We three with take you there, you'll see all, know all, and in the end, join us as warrior guides for another of yourself". Now I'm cracking up. "I can't be a warrior. I've never done battle, or sent people off. Nothing that makes a warrior!" Then they all three laughed "you'll see, there are warrior ways without fighting. You'll see, but not yet". Other than "Not time, but close" means. I don't understand. I hope when that time comes, I see my families in Valhalla, my brother Templars, my clan. And I hope I can find a spot where we all four can look down and I can say "Those, all those people you see that have lights on them? Those are my friends. We need to watch  over them as well". Don't sweat it, I believe that's already being done for you all. There's a chance that whatever I was supposed to get finished in this life, it coming to an end. I don't know what that is, or how to finish it, but I'm fairly certain I know what the outcome of finishing will be for me. Terminal Velocity, with rapid Critical Mass.

  I hope I've helped some of you all. It's been at times pretty silly, and other times fairly funny, and a lot of the time a cross between both of those things. As I've said, I'll go with this as long as I'm able. You'll notice HUGE gaps between blogs. Those are days I stay in the recliner and just couldn't do much but make my formula cans go into the pouch and then into me. Days I didn't move much. I apologize for those. I should have come on and said "Well, this is what happens. I get too tired to do anything but each, shit, piss and sleep. Much more than that is just too much work." That's true, it would have. I'll work on that.

Love to all of you. I hope, in the next couple of days…….Oh what the hell

  When I was in third grade, we lived across the street from the Hermann's. You all know this from an earlier blogs. Anyway, Chris, who was my age were out scrounging bottles to swap for a fresh bag of peanuts and one of those tiny cokes. Not the big tall bottle, the short bottle. You could get two of those for what a regular coke cost. Fewer bottles to gather up. Anyway, we are out looking, Chris is docking off, and we already said the cash would be split with the majority of it going to the person who found the most bottles. Chris kept finding beer bottles. No deposit no return on those. I told him 6 or 8 times about that and finally called him a dumb ass for picking any of them up. I had 12 bottles to turn in, one more and I've have 26 cents and could get my soda and peanuts. Chris had four, 8 cents. So we sold em, I gave him his cut. He pissed and moaned, threatened to tell his mom. Oh woo, scare me please. Anyway, the little dick, picked up a beer bottle, broke it, cut my right arm, and tried to get all the change. Needless to say that's not what happened. His big brother Billy did catch up with me at Wiegels gas station (my sisters BF worked there and had a motorcycle). Asked me why I gave his baby brother a black eye. I showed him my arm, told him what happened and that was that. Except Chris couldn't come across the street for two weeks Neener neeener neener

No comments:

Post a Comment