"I don't actually know." That is the most familiar answer to the question I ask myself, why do I feel the need to write, as I rifle through the 100s of scattered thoughts racing through my head just after waking up. No answers just thoughts, no resolutions just questions, no peace just this.
I've settled on reading some of the most random of things that passed before me on the internet screen like, Elvis's death (what??) and how Lisa Marie had sectioned off the 2nd floor of his mansion where he passed away. How odd that she kept his bedroom exactly as it was the day he died and how quickly my mind goes to how I've done the same exact thing and kept mom's house in the same day-of condition. Then the why's, what purpose is there in doing that, should I be doing that, should I stop making a shrine out of things that don't bring me any closer to peace? Maybe it's time to let go..
My morning ritual these days is to feed the feral cats and set out water and hope to see them feeling safe and getting what they need if even for a little while. I'll go through junk emails and get rid of the sales pitches and people wanting to buy a house from me, "Great news, We want to buy your home!" Bullshit..
None of the things I end up doing with my days have much if anything to do with real people actually in my life because of course, there are no people in my life. Then the conversations with myself like, "so whose fault is that," come into my mind and once again, no comfy answers just, yeah probably my own doing..
An old friend comes to mind (and how random that is), one I had in Jr High School, Tom Hague, God rest his soul. As I do from time to time I try to look up people I once knew long ago to see if I can find what happened to them, where they ended up, are they still alive? Sadly many aren't and Tom is one of those. When we made it through Jr High and the next year was High School, I was completely terrified of what was to come. It was so hard for me to make friends and the thought of a new school was literally making me sick. Tom and I decided we would pick the same classes so we would at least have a friend in place but that was not to be the case..
It wasn't till after getting in that school that I found out that Tom had picked other classes and didn't tell me. I was devastated my only friend had sort of walked away. We rarely ever saw or even spoke again after that. The years of not being part of the cool kids and feeling rejected went into overdrive for me and the 2 years I could tolerate going to that school ended when I just couldn't take the isolation anymore and just quit. There was the occasional girlfriend and "friend," and a class or two I didn't mind, but the feeling I had going to school everyday was one of terror, loneliness, outcast, and a feeling of not having a place to belong.
That story gets longer and there's no need to write it all down because there isn't a chance in hell even after all these years I could ever forget any of the rest and need a reminder. Speaking of which, after some 47 years of holding on to my divorce papers handed to me at the door of our house in 1976, I finally made the decision to shred them and never be able to read them again. All the details of that day the look on my wifes face, my boy playing in the living room unaware of what just happened, none of those things will ever leave my mind and yet these days I often have to look at the calendar to see what day it is and can't find my keys.. One of those memorable things was that night when my wife told me not to be too alarmed at some of the things written by the attorney in the divorce papers.. "Don't get upset at some of those things, the attorney told me we needed to put stuff like that in there to make a stronger case for me in the event you contested the divorce............" Wow. The wow I felt hearing that from her was confusing and then dwarfed by the actual words written in the papers which were completely devastating and even after all these years they cause me pain. I had been holding on to those papers for over 40 years and today I just had to get rid of them. But those words written there, they are words I can never forget and truth be told, those words, some of which were not true, have helped to make me not like the man I was then or even now. Yes, words can do that.
One day a couple weeks ago I was looking for some other papers and ran across that 47 year old paperwork in a closet. It was then and there after re-reading that nasty recollection of so long ago, that I decided to let go of those papers and I took them one paper at a time and shredded them so I would never run across them again in this life. Unable to forget the words at least now no one else will ever find them and wonder if they were written for legal purposes or a real account of things between two kids who fell in love and didn't know what we were doing and failed with one blaming the other.
It's awful quiet around my life these days and the random thoughts like these have a tendency to take up a lot of room in my mind. I wish I could kick them out and replace them with happier things but this is what it is.
Maybe now that I've purged some of this through my fingers I'll turn on some old music and get to purging some real remnants of this life into boxes and get them to Goodwill so I can get back to remodeling this one house and perhaps rent or sell it. Keeping my mind busy is what I need to do more of these days so we'll see if I can do that.
I wish for everyone peace. Even me..
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