As long as I am not a threat. It is hard to be over emotional and yet it isn't if you count anger and rounding up a little today only because I recieved support from a friend and my dear mother who really has done enough for me. It's a new learning curve. I recieved rejection/suspension letters from the county and I have a new social worker. They mailed it to an apartment down the hall who were nice enough to slide them unopened under the door. I hate hearing how my SO hate the sole job. Though I do support and coaching for them. It's the feeling I am stuck here dukkaThe brain monkey not monk needs sensation and driven by fear or hunger or both. Sensuality. Jazz swing. I have the elements and I get there once in a while. Honey it dont' pay the rent. There must be better ways to get a little dough. It's hard enough with nothing to do. Give me something to do. Water on the seeds planted when hope had diminished. Getting better if I try I might get through.
The microfauna still pull for me even as I stop they are down there. Keep moving. Keep blowing. try a dream .
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Nihilism
It's still not funny though I wish i could laugh. Gaia is dying. Inside of me and inside of you. I appreciate your offer of refuge but I have run long enough. It would just exchange one roof for another. The guy on the bench where I wanted to sit until I saw he was sleeping off something awful. His body shaking with withdrawals and the evening's coldness. Hey at least I don't have a heroin jones. Is this gratitude? No it's hypocrisy. I haven't fallen to the street. No one wants me to end up there yet it is the next step on the way out if I have no courage then I stall. Is it to wait for patience? Or just because i am a coward too scared to fight for myself or do i have enough faith in myself to get over all this humilation and torture. It would be easier to be sick or to have pain i could take an analgesic. The shrink and the DRs all want me back on brain meds. I think I am just fine considering everything. If i could just unconsider everything> i guess that is what the meds are for. I did that for a long time. Those years are gone now because I didn't feel a thing(pain or joy)as they went by. It's(antidepressants) my "insulin" for low brain function or is it? Reality bites unless you get the right transmitters. I am out of those and slowly running out of time and patience.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
On the Edge Again
Whew! I made it through the week. I get to play music for drunks and such tonight. This is what I live for, at least it is what I believe I live for. I am no fun in the morning in general and especially on Saturday. My reputation as an AM asshole is well established. I "slept in" until 9:45 and got up to find the step-child had no breakfast nor did the old lady with blood sugar issues(same as me maybe because she is a bear in the morning and I am not talking hairy man) I guess it is my job to make sure everyone has food at a regular time since I have no "job" nor McJob to go to, I am a "no go to" guy.
A reminder to my own ego
I do have experience and some small bits of wisdom but it is not any special type of wisdom or experience to savor or to preserve. To some, my floudering around for 30 years as a sideman may seem to have some romantic value. Why am I writing a blog instead of new songs for the world to sing? I guess this exercise in self expression aka rant/blog is my way of finding a slight bit of meaning here on earth with this body that carries me about the world.
Yes I should be grateful. Gratitude is a wonderful way of grounding and mellowing my doshas. Unfortunately, I am suffering from IMS (Irritable Male Syndrome) and any small event is taken as threat to my masculine identity and since I have lost my job and status of a 6 1/2 year residency at the restaurant there is little really holding me here. At least this is how I feel on days/weeks like this. I know I am needed to help with the "family". Only the "family" is not my family. I guess the pain is in not being real or genuine just acting and going through the motions.I don't smile or laugh anymore(once a week really doesn't indicate an end to my clinical depression)How can I when I am such a hypocrite. My schooling and training has shown me how to live. I have these days of desirous craving not for material things like money and comfortable peace but for annihilation I crave the nothingness/emptiness of death because the temporary escapes/daily numbness do not help enough to give me hope or optimism. I wish I could muster the faith-like religious joy I project others may possess. Religion has left its' scars on my soul and my woundedness is salved by the muse which only appears through my whorns(whoring horns). It has been over 2 years since my last creation and I grieve my last blessed communion lost to anger grasping and neglect of my soul work. I sold out very cheaply for a few thrills. I await the end because I have lost the ability to see the future. One of my past therapists told me this is a clear symptom of depression. The loss of optimism.
The boy is afraid of me because he senses my pain and thinks it is anger. He has tried to heal me in his own way as has his mother but what science and professional assistance has not accomplished in years of therapy will not be alleviated by 3rd grade jokes and weekend gigs. These things help but they do not let me be free. I am a prisoner of my own ignorance my own desire to not follow the empty ways of the culture that poisons the planet including my own mind.
I am grateful for these insights but "insight without actions is wasted".
So how can I act besides angry and despondant? How about kind and compassionate? I have but there are limits and because of these limits I have an all or nothing sensation of failure. I have sinned fallen short of the goal and missed my opportunity to be an exemplar of kindness,clarity, and insight. By small efforts a change can be realized. I did better since I was "needed" this week and I had an extra gig so I didn't have to sell myself to others or choke back tears in front of strangers. Thank you for this small blessing. I got what I wanted so I was nice. How nice am I when things are not going my way? Like every Saturday morning when my kitchen space is encroached upon? I have a long way to go if I choose to keep fighting this beast. If I was uglier maybe as ugly as the depression makes me feel people wouldn't mistake me for normal. Hey he's funny. Most comedy comes from the agony of being. Yes I am hilarious. It's one of the blessings from being on the edge.
A reminder to my own ego
I do have experience and some small bits of wisdom but it is not any special type of wisdom or experience to savor or to preserve. To some, my floudering around for 30 years as a sideman may seem to have some romantic value. Why am I writing a blog instead of new songs for the world to sing? I guess this exercise in self expression aka rant/blog is my way of finding a slight bit of meaning here on earth with this body that carries me about the world.
Yes I should be grateful. Gratitude is a wonderful way of grounding and mellowing my doshas. Unfortunately, I am suffering from IMS (Irritable Male Syndrome) and any small event is taken as threat to my masculine identity and since I have lost my job and status of a 6 1/2 year residency at the restaurant there is little really holding me here. At least this is how I feel on days/weeks like this. I know I am needed to help with the "family". Only the "family" is not my family. I guess the pain is in not being real or genuine just acting and going through the motions.I don't smile or laugh anymore(once a week really doesn't indicate an end to my clinical depression)How can I when I am such a hypocrite. My schooling and training has shown me how to live. I have these days of desirous craving not for material things like money and comfortable peace but for annihilation I crave the nothingness/emptiness of death because the temporary escapes/daily numbness do not help enough to give me hope or optimism. I wish I could muster the faith-like religious joy I project others may possess. Religion has left its' scars on my soul and my woundedness is salved by the muse which only appears through my whorns(whoring horns). It has been over 2 years since my last creation and I grieve my last blessed communion lost to anger grasping and neglect of my soul work. I sold out very cheaply for a few thrills. I await the end because I have lost the ability to see the future. One of my past therapists told me this is a clear symptom of depression. The loss of optimism.
The boy is afraid of me because he senses my pain and thinks it is anger. He has tried to heal me in his own way as has his mother but what science and professional assistance has not accomplished in years of therapy will not be alleviated by 3rd grade jokes and weekend gigs. These things help but they do not let me be free. I am a prisoner of my own ignorance my own desire to not follow the empty ways of the culture that poisons the planet including my own mind.
I am grateful for these insights but "insight without actions is wasted".
So how can I act besides angry and despondant? How about kind and compassionate? I have but there are limits and because of these limits I have an all or nothing sensation of failure. I have sinned fallen short of the goal and missed my opportunity to be an exemplar of kindness,clarity, and insight. By small efforts a change can be realized. I did better since I was "needed" this week and I had an extra gig so I didn't have to sell myself to others or choke back tears in front of strangers. Thank you for this small blessing. I got what I wanted so I was nice. How nice am I when things are not going my way? Like every Saturday morning when my kitchen space is encroached upon? I have a long way to go if I choose to keep fighting this beast. If I was uglier maybe as ugly as the depression makes me feel people wouldn't mistake me for normal. Hey he's funny. Most comedy comes from the agony of being. Yes I am hilarious. It's one of the blessings from being on the edge.
Friday, June 1, 2007
A Little Clarity Can Be Dangerous
Today, I drove the old lady to the VA to find out if the shrink would have a magic pill to take away all the antisocial and rude violent stuff that she has recently revitalized(Are there many 86 year old punks around? I think not).
She wanted
me to drive her to the CA DMV to "straighten out those people who don't want me to drive."
I really wanted to scream. " You are a menace. No one wants your car and, by the way, you're fucking crazy!" But I held my breath and I became persona non gratis once more as I was the asshole who dreamed/conspired all this up about the Alzheimer's and of course I tricked all the medical staff into going along just so they can get the hub caps after we strip it and sell the old Buick to gangsters. But first the job of getting the shrink on board.
She came alive under pressure and the Dr stated she made sense and seemed clear. Which makes us all look like we got it in for her. Except she has had too many visits and too many staff members charting on her scattered delusions and accusations of incompetency to anyone who differs from her own diagnosis of "ready for a road trip to Virginia and a new job as head nurse at the hopstal around the corner."
I am glad she is not my nurse. Her brain is missing a lot of words. Words like card receipt record report are all now "tickets". Try paying your gas bill with a ticket. Try getting your son to write a ticket on cats. "I paid the bill. Here is my ticket>"
So with one clear interview with one Dr. on one day( we were all shocked) and she has all the ammunition to deny any plans we have made for her placement in a home or nursing center. Now she wants her own home car and autonomy. We all nod our heads "NO." She tries the next argument someone else will do this for me aka granchildren who never call write or visit. "NO"
I walk out. I can see this is going nowhere because the parent is still running the show in spite of the fact she has not a lot of memory left and is running on bravado and farce. But its same stuff she has scared the hell out of her daughters most of their lives. They recall the damaging ridicule the non-support they got growing up. I see revenge they see shame and fear. Its time for her to leave and stop running roughshod over all of us. She did all she could to get out of this house but she has no where to go. We are her last best bet. Yet she treats us like shit. How could anyone love such a selfish and mean person? A person who is filled with shame and lacking self-esteem. No names. Its too common we are nothing special in this game. People get old and are hard to deal with yet there is not much going on in our culture to help so we fight each other and our lives get wasted. Not for much longer for this guy.
She wanted
me to drive her to the CA DMV to "straighten out those people who don't want me to drive."
I really wanted to scream. " You are a menace. No one wants your car and, by the way, you're fucking crazy!" But I held my breath and I became persona non gratis once more as I was the asshole who dreamed/conspired all this up about the Alzheimer's and of course I tricked all the medical staff into going along just so they can get the hub caps after we strip it and sell the old Buick to gangsters. But first the job of getting the shrink on board.
She came alive under pressure and the Dr stated she made sense and seemed clear. Which makes us all look like we got it in for her. Except she has had too many visits and too many staff members charting on her scattered delusions and accusations of incompetency to anyone who differs from her own diagnosis of "ready for a road trip to Virginia and a new job as head nurse at the hopstal around the corner."
I am glad she is not my nurse. Her brain is missing a lot of words. Words like card receipt record report are all now "tickets". Try paying your gas bill with a ticket. Try getting your son to write a ticket on cats. "I paid the bill. Here is my ticket>"
So with one clear interview with one Dr. on one day( we were all shocked) and she has all the ammunition to deny any plans we have made for her placement in a home or nursing center. Now she wants her own home car and autonomy. We all nod our heads "NO." She tries the next argument someone else will do this for me aka granchildren who never call write or visit. "NO"
I walk out. I can see this is going nowhere because the parent is still running the show in spite of the fact she has not a lot of memory left and is running on bravado and farce. But its same stuff she has scared the hell out of her daughters most of their lives. They recall the damaging ridicule the non-support they got growing up. I see revenge they see shame and fear. Its time for her to leave and stop running roughshod over all of us. She did all she could to get out of this house but she has no where to go. We are her last best bet. Yet she treats us like shit. How could anyone love such a selfish and mean person? A person who is filled with shame and lacking self-esteem. No names. Its too common we are nothing special in this game. People get old and are hard to deal with yet there is not much going on in our culture to help so we fight each other and our lives get wasted. Not for much longer for this guy.
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