Skip to main content

Free Writing - Take 85

I try to be funny, sarcastic, clever, kind, empathetic and sympathetic, but I've noticed as of late, my messages aren't being processed. It doesn't matter if I say them openly, privately, in print or spoken word. They are constantly misconstrued and it's starting to get to me. I'm going to start to dumb down my comment. I like this. I hate this. I like this person or I don't. I'm no longer going to pretend to like someone I don't for another's sake and while that might sound harsh, I sit and read and listen to your BS about "life being too short." Well, life is long and carrying around friends for someone else, is a burden. Since the beginning of the week, I cut three out of my life and I'm not going to lie. I have slept better. There are more to go and this isn't some silly random claim. There are some of you I owe more than this to and I don't ever forget that, but those who have wronged me, distracted me, compromised my happiness or quite simply, bore or disgust me, have to go. I'm not on some crazy rampage, but I'm tired of losing sleep as it is. To do so for people not worth my breath, let alone my mental health, well, you all should understand. I'm also going to try and be a little more vocal in a positive way for those out there who are struggling. Not openly, but privately. Those who know, understand I do truly care about a lot more people than I "show." Please don't assume I'm talking about you. If you ever asked me to tell you what I like or dislike about you, I'd be more than happy and I promise I'll be open. I'll shut up now, as this has turned into the ramblings, normally filling empty spaces and promises on a Facebook wall. Goodnight! Yes, it's my night-time.


Popular posts from this blog

11 Rules of Life - Bill Gates?

I read this on Facebook this morning.  A friend had posted it and said that every child should have to receive this. I of course read it and started to think.  I immediately wondered who really wrote this, as I rarely see things like this attributed to the proper person.  I immediately found it was written by Conservative Charles J. Sykes when he wrote a book about how America is dumbing down our youth.  I read it twice and started to wonder how true it was.  Below is a link to the actual picture I saw.

So let's look at each of the rules and analyze them.

Rule 1: Life is not fair — get used to it! - Life is not fair in that we are not all afforded the same opportunities based on race, creed, color, socio-economic background, but in general, those who are afforded the same opportunities to succeed are very often rewarded for their individual efforts.  Sure there may be underlying circumstances, but hard work is proven to pay more often than not and those who strive for success, migh…

Out Of Options

Two winters ago, I was in a bad place. Physically, financially, but especially emotionally. Life, which has rarely been anything I could view as fair, had really begun to weigh me down. I was living in a motel room, paid for by my brother while awaiting a move to another state. A little late research revealed my soon-to-be new home was a bit of a nightmare. Think of Melrose Place with meth and hookers. The idea of flying halfway across the country with my cat, Swag, and less than $200 in my pocket was scary. Leaving everything I knew wasn't what scared me, it was knowing deep in my heart, I'd never return. 
It's always easy to put off keeping up with people when you're close, but as I've learned over the last four years, distance tests friendships, even those we view as true. One can't imagine the alienation of being broke, physically unable to walk, and having to rely on a motel staff's daily pleasantries to remind yourself you're alive. At times I que…

In Memoriam

For Shane

Yesterday, I sat in the library, thinking of you. As I pored over vegan recipes, tales of medieval monks, and descriptive biography of Yasujiro Ozu, I thought about you more. Who else could I call and discuss all three? Who else would be able to add insight to my last meal, movie, and chapter? I was tempted to walk, arrive work sweaty, but feeling accomplished, but a bump in the rode arose and I found myself driving. You'd have scoffed, claimed I took the easy way or accused me of always avoiding the circuitous route, in favor of ease. I'd agree, then buy you a beer.

Last night, I thought about us twenty-five years ago, maybe more. Rows of six dimes stacked on the bar. Cold Schaefer puckering our lips. Commenting on the old-timers, of which I am now one. You're not here to share those moments, that repartee or the serious moments we often shared. With every meal, movie and mountain life throws at me, I miss you more. There were years where we only spoke once. Thi…