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Wednesday, February 26, 2014

I want to know

What is the matter with me? Why can't I get better? Its not like I'm waiting for the disease to fully manifest itself, thus leaving all weaknesses exposed upon which I might feed. It's not like I'm waiting to spring out and grab the ulcerous tendrils of infectious neural vestiges with any plan to reconstruct. I'm clueless as to the process of regeneration. To me, auto immune disease means your ability to resist car ogling is compromised. Some of it is genetic. I don't know.

I can't drive my wheelchair with either hand. Nothing there. I'm for some visual reason resistant to master my head array.

Enough about me. What about you. Those I know. How about you telling me about your lives? How about an about face? Wow! I used "about" six, no, seven times. Well, how about it? Email, message, text, comment. I have trouble communicating, do you? I want to know what is happening in your world, in your life.

Sunday, February 23, 2014

Sorry

I apologize for my lack of communication. I'm sick with the flu, I think. Consider what this means for a guy in my condition. I'll get back to you if I live through this.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

Amused

I live because I choose to. When I die it will be because my choice was overruled by my health. Nothing mysterious. As I become less mobile, it, albeit slowly, occurs to me that quality of life has very little to do with physical ability. Given that, if I go blind life will REALLY suck.

I try to be philosophical but the truth is much more meat and potatoes than anything I can pull out of a book of proverbs. Most philosophers read out of the Supreme Court of experience in reality. I hold the position that most therapists conjure solutions scraped from their own sordid childhoods. Self loathing defeated does not preclude spreading the disease. While I admire the effort, I am wary of the scars that may rupture into the core of the advice.

I've no interest in getting lawnmower operation advice from a guy with no fingers who "Learned his lesson. "

It's no joke that I fulfill the requirements for the definition of "Hard Nut". Believe you me, the nut is just as hard on the inside. Reasonable people endeavor to get in while I scrabble to get out. If what's wrong with me is in there I don't want anything to do with it. Of course that's insane. I guess this is one problem I can't run away from.

Amy says: Your body does what your mind tells it to do. My body has a stupid boss.

If there is a statement that encapsulates the essence of my plight, I have no idea what it is. Additionally, I don't care. Talk is cheap. I need something concrete..... To get through my skull. Let it in and let it out. (Come Together)

Monday, February 17, 2014

What brain do YOU use?

What has become of analytical reasoning? Within the realm of scientific study it remains an imperative, yet outside we find it an obstruction to bias. Any confirmation of observable systems is discounted when in conflict with that which is unobservable, untrackable, even undocumentable. Proof through experimental process is often refuted by superstitious nay say.

Hi. I'm feeling great these last few days. Still have allergy problems.

I'm Sick, still. I don't care as much as of late. This is a good thing. Dwelling can give you bed sores. I'm more apt to actively enjoy my family. I'm having fun inflicting flesh wounds upon unsuspecting Facebook friends, leaching comments varying from loath to pity. I'm more interested in going on walks. I'm taking advantage of looking and listening to Amy. I love watching Bugs Bunny with Isaac. I'm catching up on House of Cards.

Don't mistake. I'm still Sick as Hell. I just choose to not let it consume me. ALS is simply not that strong.

Thursday, February 13, 2014

What the......

Less people are reading this blog. At the very least it has been relegated to last month's Playboy Magazine status: back burner softcore, yesterday's shocker, today's PG13.
I've spent my dime bag of words. I'm looking to score. Anybody sellin'?

I remain, woefully depleted, of course, yours.

But I digress. Wait, that's all I do! If I'm a professional at digression, its called Progression! Yeah!

Thus, I progress.


See?

Sunday, February 9, 2014

My me

I've come to crystallize what I suspected has inhabited my psyche my entire life. I am not a spiritual human being. I don't buy into chanting or mantra or prayer or healing by committee. Without any form of identification with which to grasp the concept of spiritualism I cannot find peace within myself.
It is obvious that I'm not too hip on religion. To me, it is a contrived, overly complicated, dogma driven bastardization of the very core of simplicity that is the spirituality I don't embrace. In other words, food I don't like left to rot. I might learn to like it, but never if it has gone bad.
At this stage of my life, after a million conversations on this subject, after having read the Koran, Book of Mormon, Dianetics, studied Buddhist belief, Hinduism, Christianity, Judaism, Wicca, Atheism, Satanism, Hare Kristna, Moonies, Ba Hai, etc., I still maintain the core mindset I had in high school. Enough.
Don't tell me I failed to speak to the right people. I managed to bamboozle the priest, Fr Bushe of Holy Family, who, despite my discourse, agreed to marry me and Amy. I screwed with some Mormon missionaries by quoting the Book of (Smith) and asking what it all meant. They suddenly had a schedule to keep and took off running. I found a Baptist young man lingering around my truck and after some discussion discovered he was too busy to come inside my house and further our conversation. These are not isolated incidents. Understand that I don't know shit about any of this. I sadly learned that these people knew less than me, which is to say they knew less than shit.

      I'm not saying that any of these belief systems don't work. They all do. For those who believe, they work just fine. I also commend those who are ignorant of their particular faith for spreading the word as spoken to them from their hearts. Placebo or not, its all good. If only I were so inclined.

Belief without comprehension is  a hurdle I have trouble clearing. I'm struggling with myself constantly over my disconnect from everything intangible. My imagination is just that - imagination. I suppose my stubborness will be my undoing. 

I rag on the very fantasies that may cure me. I minimize the potential of belief as I resist any notion of the suspension of the opposite.

My battle is with me. No other entity is involved. My head is a battlefield upon which a war between dissension and acceptance is being waged.

I'm sure I will benefit from better nutrition. I'm sure that the minimization of stress will comfort me. I'm certain that laughter and happiness will make me feel better.

I have no doubt that I will hang around for quite a long time, committed to discovering exactly what it is I need to believe, what is blind faith, what its like to trust in something without understanding it. My stubborn nature dictates it. If I could overturn even a single stone, I would upend them all.

I am bathed every day in hope though I still stink of doubt. Things gotta change. Gotta. Got to. Better.

I've yet to get my head around mind/body work. I can tug at my ears all day but it just won't bend.

Funny how I refer to my stubbornness as both a negative and positive trait. A civil war therein.

      ALS is a pistol loaded with stress, fear, a touch of insecurity, a healthy dose of self imposed responsibility, a nugget of pride, maybe even some anger and frustration. At the trigger is a handful of knocks to the noggin. Whether the trigger is pulled depends on the severity of the ammunition.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Wayward post

Technology is passing me by. I spent an hour in the Apple Store and didn't drool even once. I didn't talk to anybody, (duh), and didn't want for anything. What the hell would I want with a touch screen?
I'm stubborn yet progressive. I used to be. I'm still stubborn.

Things to think about :
I'm not going anywhere fast
I'm not going anywhere at all unassisted
I'm still where they put me
The scenery remains the same unless I'm moved
I'm often moved
I'm over appreciated
I'm always at a loss for words
My vocabulary resists explanation
My spirit is........ Hiding somewhere
My faith is...... Stalking my spirit
My self loathing is a figure of someone else's imagination
My guilt is nonexistent
My God is not MY God
The universe is no fabrication for mankind
Humans are very slow learners
At what point in antiquity should we reside
If not forward, never backward, God forbid stationary, then where?
I'm in a place where every day is a gift with a string attached
I'm doing a lot of stuff in my mind
Amy is in the bedroom, I'm not

     Short statements do not form the constructs for diminished capacity, but allow for a more concentrated model upon which to build comprehension. In other words, fewer words provide for better retention. The best way to communicate is with succinct brevity, thus minimizing interpretational error.

Just so you know, I'm a piss poor example of concise brevity.