Just See What You Have Done...

I've been in this town so long that back in the city
I've been taken for lost and gone
And unknown for a long long time...

Brian Wilson - Heroes and Villains

It began when BA stopped by earlier today and posted a comment on my last blog entry. She composed the comment, hit the button and poof, her comment was posted.

About twenty-three seconds later, an e-mail appears in my inbox. The subject line reads:

[Higher Power Shower Hour] New comment on Moving In Monaural....

"When did I post that one?" I asked myself as I read the comment. I glanced to the original post and read the date: March 12th, 2008.

One month, two days.

"I haven't felt like blogging in one month and two days?" I queried myself in disbelief. Alright, so I let the QTV blog go long by the wayside, but my MAIN blog?

Unheard of.

Actually, no, it is heard of. I've known of my lack of desire to post for longer than that. A lot longer.

I suppose I didn't think I had anything to say. Christmas wiped me out to a cinder. My "season" literally bled into January, then February, then March. I kept busy as busy gets and didn't come up for air until I fell sick for almost three and a half weeks towards the middle of March.

I didn't want to do shit except lay about like a lazy salmon and watch the History Channel. Eventually, however, even the History Channel failed me for entertainment.

After all, how many shows about Hitler can one stand before descending into either boredom or madness? From drug abuse, to his secret underground city beneath Berlin to the pet names he called Eva, I think I learned more about that demented fuck stick in one day then I'd ever cared to learn in such a short period of time.

Either that or that show about lumberjacks that repeats three times a day, the same episode, all damned week long. Axemen, I think it's called.

The thing that baffles me...

Ice Road Truckers and Axemen. On the History Channel.

Makes about as much damned sense as when they used to show WWE Wrestling on Cartoon Network on Sunday nights as part of their Adult Swim lineup a few years ago. Completely logical, no?

So, apart from that and old episodes of Mythbusters and Deadliest Catch, I've had fuckall to do at home while I convalesced. That makes one cabin feverish. Stabby, in some cases.

Me? It gave me a chance to be alone with my thoughts. To contemplate my way of life and the wisdom/folly of it.

Biggest waste of time ever. It pissed me off even more that I didn't do half the shit I swore to the Gods that I was going to do with myself, then I was pissed off about being so pissed off about it.

And then, in writing this, I was even more pissed off at the fact that while I have exceeded my "cussing limit" in this post, I decided to post it anyway as I originally planned to, sans proofreading.

It feels kind of liberating to cuss in here. I have to edit myself a lot in real life, ya know. Well, most of us have to. It isn't polite to cuss, after all. Not a sign of a true gentleman. Or lady.

But that's what makes cussing so fun! I climb into the truck for the ride home and find myself talking to myself. Usually swearing a cuss or two just for giggles.

So, Internet Gentleman, I may not yet be. I can live with that.

I remember when I was a obnoxious young lad around 12 or so. I remember walking in the woods with a pal of mine and we actually had a contest to see how many times we could say the word "shit" using different sentences. I think we lost track after #312. Either that or a neighbour of ours heard it and told us to knock it off or they'd tell my folks.

Can't say that would have been a grand way to end that Laff-O-Lympic event. Especially since Yogi Bear wasn't there to celebrate my epic fail as I would spend the next week doing time at the house for poor mouthsmanship.

Digression comes and digression goes. This was quite a tangent.

Ah, yes. A month and two days.

I enjoy spending time with my pal Dr. P on the rare opportunities that we can. Mostly because there are only two other people (or so I thought) on this planet that I can while away a good night engaged in geekchat.

I met Dr. P at one of the local bars that we've been to before for a few drinks. We were surrounded by about a hundred or so frat and sorority types, discussing Doctor Who and a ton of stuff as we usually do. Time fracking flew, man, lemme tell you.

I feel so much open and happy in situations like that. No pressure, no judgments, just a few drinks and awesome discussion.

Much more like the old days, before the Dark Times. Before I learned to distrust and hate humanity.

Like that when I talk to Ash over AIM. Doesn't matter what kinda shit fell on my head today, we always seem to get lost in awesome.

I missed having friends like this. I needed friends like this. And it is only recently where I've started down the path of realizing that I actually deserve awesome friends like this. I always felt lucky to have friends, but I never thought I deserved them.

Kinda sad outlook I had there, I know, but I'm working on changing that.

As I am working on changing my life in general. I'm sick of the ruts, the loathing, the feelings of negativity and loss. I need to bring change in my life. To escape the same mental traps I've set for myself and have stumbled into those of others all this time.

I want my fucking life back, goddamnit, and I don't give two shits if this post gets rated "R" or not. This is probably the best venting I've done in quite a while. :)

One day, hopefully all this will not be so much of an issue. It is for that day that I commit my energy and hopes toward. To unlock the brainlock and move. JUST MOVE. In a direction.

'Cause I deserve to be happy, damnit. Is that so wrong?