peeyew what a kee rappy day today...

there was something I was absolutely convinced would be a topic to blog about  but now I'm sitting here I have no idea what that was, or what I could say...maybe it was about the self-indulgent ramblings of a former heroin addict...I say self-indulgent because to listen to her ramble on tape about her voyage to self-realization I realize that it's all about her...she's fierce about her mother love but when it comes down to it..she is not one who cares about anyone else in her life? not really her thing...how she feels about her siblings...eh...doesn't care that much
you get so you know, observe, listen...when folks are endearing and endeared to their family... and that is about that...who's a what?  hmm...as it goes...can't really get into that now...that self-focused routine... I kind of got lost, listening to the hum and the rhythm of the day unfolding - it's after 1 almost two in the afternoon, the kind of time when if you've fallen in love you might just be waking up, or if at work, only two hours to go until quitting time (about) or like me, feet are damp, fire is cresting to a warm glow at home, here's just getting going, massages going on, testing the new laptop...ah the familiar routine, thinking about food what a wonderful thing it is, the best of the steamed vegs last night, with Hollandaise, that really makes'em good...I think...there goes Louise's old car, didn't see who was driving it, hehe..I am wearing these godawful men's glasses...but I can see out of them well enough to recognize faces in the cars passing by (like why would I want to know that?) and so there's a huddle of women in the massage room because the heat is on in there...oh yes...the  little bagel and cream cheese wasn't enough for me...I need more...sustenance

like the pants I painted that said 'thou restored' which I wore in New York and there was a dance troupe in central park and I walked right by them in the 'pants'...and up the stairs of the metropolitan museum and so on into the night here comse a rather grim faced woman bo02682N from brematon
but they drive away because 'we are closed', oh no he's trying to park it...hmmm
I'll just have to ignore him and let it go...
w
I stop with the italics...perhaps this individual topic thing is going to get me in the end and I'll display myself as insensitive as the character on the trail...my mother, well...it's my children, there's the thing...bundles of them and animals too...right now, the cat on my lap is keeping my weggswarm...I call them my 'weggs' when I talk to the woggins and the kitty...dog is of course 'woggins'...and when I'm walking the wogs I am walking on my weggs...because that's how it is...a bit richard adamsy...that but there it is..sang froid
never really sure about sang froid, done with frankness, candor, innocence one thinks it means
one hopes that is so for my German is appalling...SUCH As IT IS and learning this keyboard...my friend the caudel king...you think of the caudel as the block...but its the keyboard language for the computer..WE HAD a DRILL today...man that cap stays stuck on large..hehe
tsunami it was a drill for that, if we get it, well it'll be interesting but then, so is this crappy rain we're currently having, yeschh...don't like it but it is here and there's maui across the sea warm breezes and so on...but residency there, would it not be boringh, I'm thinking this chick with the penchant for describing other people's m;isery, eh...she did talk about her own blisters with some accord...ya and duh...then there was this big black bear who came along and went boo and she blew a whistle on him...right on...ah...I'm getting to my topic..
slowly, surely...she rides down the little hill on her bicycle and all I can think is she stole the keys to my house...she imitates me, she stands in for me when the paychecks are distributed, I've lost my property, my vehicle...and she texted me this morning 'we cancelled the card'...duh...ya think...
she buys four hundred dollar sneakers...she uses meth...she keeps cruising by the place where it is souled..and helps herself and then comes home to Mother...more able to deal with the constant criticism...she used to steal the car keys and the wallets of whoseever pocket had been emptied...I studied that...I wondered did the parents know...this is screwy dudes?  well they did of course and I wanted to help because I knew them for so long...she lived in my house...now I see it as an evil omen if she is around..it's like someone put pants on my dog for crying out loud...I can't handle it...the dog was shaking, shivering...I guess they had tried to do that...but there's no escape...it can't be done...you have to live in the shelter of the crimean fear...the dark sea, the gentle tea glass...the languages...the space race...the f yu up you are...and eventually the tanning hide will give up the last of itself...the phone rings..
I don't have to try to be positive, I am naturally that, living int he woods as I do...it's not about me, the topic, rather the sense of who's the animal..eh
 

Spacey in The Shrink

I borrowed a video from the library called The Shrink.  It featured Kevin Spacey as a Los Angeles psychiatrist with clients involved in show business.  He was forever wandering back lost to the suicide of his wife, a grieving process he finally enlightened himself about after much personal suffering.  The moral of the story, so to speak, was that you have to pick yourself up and go on when you lose someone.  He found himself over and over again lying on the floor, the couch, the lounge chair by the pool, but he didn't realize when he found himself in those places that he was actually finding himself as he had become since his wife had died.  He wasn't able to see through his loss to the otherside of his life, where he would begin to live without her.
It begs the question of what was their marriage like, the shrink and his wife.
The movie doesn't elaborate on the married life of the psychiatrist, it only goes into the depth of his despair.  He doesn't connect to loving his wife as much as he does the losing of her through death.  He cannot cope with the death and so he becomes like her, returning to dust, through the excessive use of mind altering substances which his family feel and attempt an intervention because of, cloud his judgment.  He is, however, a realistic man and finds that once he understands what his grief is doing to him, he is able to pick up the pieces and continue his life, initiating contact with a potential girl friend, wearing pajamas to bed instead of falling into it still clothed for the previous day. 
The Shrink is an interesting movie because it details what exactly our process is in terms of coping with grief.  We have tears, we have an overwhelming feeling of sorrow, but what we cannot face is what we feel about what has happened to us.  We try our best to blot it out but it is not until we face the reality of the circumstances: our true love has gone, our child, our parent..whatever the issue, then we are able to adjust to it, make it a part of our life.  Until we are able to grasp the terms of the despair we feel...we cannot make any adjustment to it.  Who knows how long it takes for an individual to come to this realization.  It is as though we wrap ourselves in a great bundle of wool, something that insulates us, coccoons us, holds us in its cloudy web, until we begin to see the faint light of our reason coming to terms with the blow it has been dealt. 
Some of us come upon this despair daily.  These are the mentally depressed among us.  For them the cloudy wool of our existence never truly leaves, but clots all reason with the condition of despair, that we may cling to that and not to the daily routine of our lives.  We find we have no reason to have that daily routine.  It matters little if the dust on the furniture deepens...we're not obliged to reason with that...it's there...so what...  So it was with Spacey's psychiatrist character.  He moved onward, you didn't see him frying any bacon...popping up some toast...he merely went forward with a sandwich shoved in his face...He was stopping up the grief with a little analgesic pastrami but it wasn't sizzling in the pan and giving up a wonderful aroma..it was merely there. 
It takes a while to come to terms with grief.  I prefer to think of grieve as the kidneys metabolizing and processing the eternal waste of the human soul..they've got a job to do, fluids, diuretic inducing foods, it helps somewhat but the main thing to do is to think positive about the daily routine...keep motivated to sweep, launder, dust, tidy, organize...and then contemplate what little thing has been accomplished, see it as the reality of your life.  Little by little you can build on these daily accomplishments and see that they add up to a reality that coexists with grief, takes from it only the necessary, adjusts to the positive outcome.  It takes a while, it becomes a matter of thought then, and the mind, the human mind, accepts that there is still a soul within the body, that the soul does not truly wish to join the great unknown just yet, it has not accepted the defeat of the love lost...or whatever has happened.  It will continue.
the process of acceptance is truly a time consuming ritual.  IT involves being good to yourself among other things...putting the fudge sauce on the ice cream...wearing the warm socks...smiling at yourself in the mirror..laughing...