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| message board January 2013
Lost. Posted at 10:21 AM
This apartment really shouldn't get this dirty with my minimal amount of activity ... although I realize that three months is quite a while to go without cleaning ... but the first floor hardly shows a spec of dust over the same period of time and up here on the second floor I vacuumed a layer of dust off everything yesterday so that today I can start cleaning with furniture polish and glass cleaner and not make mutant dust bunnies with every singe swipe of the cloth. If they can make a self-cleaning over, why not a self-cleaning home? Posted at 10:34 AM
Moving through a morass ... Posted at 10:07 AM
Slightly warmer temperatures don't make me feel any less depressed it would appear. Posted at 10:23 AM
Useless. Posted at 10:11 AM
I loved snow as a kid, even though I didn't have enough kids in my neighborhood for snowball fights I did have one friend who made snow forts with me and sometimes went sledding with friends in other neighborhoods (although rarely), but I loved the briskness of the cold and I loved the fun of building a fort and I loved the beauty of the snow on the trees and the creek and the land. As a young adult I very rarely played in the snow any longer, but I did drive in it and was proud about how well I could manage. I also loved - even more than as a child - the beauty of snow on a landscape, and I came to love even more the still silence that would fall over an area after a fresh snowfall. As an old adult I've come to hate snow, first because my car was buried in it by snowplows on top of the drifting of nature and within the past ten years because each snowfall has meant hours of shoveling every single time it snows, often day after day after day. I hate the waste of time and energy, the aches it brings to me, and inevitably the slushy black yuck that forms on streets, parking lots, shoes, pantslegs, and anything else that gets near it. Being stuck in a neighborhood with houses that are separated only by the width of a driveway and a couple dozen feet from the next backyard, the beauty of ice and snow on telephone poles and power lines and garage rooftops is more fill me with sadness than wonderment and joy. This is not a change borne of simply age or my ability to play in the snow. It is a change due to circumstance and location and the life I seem consigned to. Posted at 10:36 AM
Shoveling snow yesterday ended up giving me muscle contractions in my back despite stretching before and afterward, taking a warm shower after the follow-up stretch, and applying a heating muscle ointment to my back. I had a spasm about an hour later while I was in line at the grocery checkout, and while I probably looked insane twisting about as I was and grimacing, it was almost certainly less embarrassing than writhing on the floor and crying out in pain like I wanted to do. I spent most of the day reapplying the pain ointment and laying down stretched out fully - the only position that wouldn't incur more of these charlie-horse-like muscle cramps. Each new day is just filled with wonder, excitement, and fun, isn't it? Posted at 9:51 AM
Still shit. Now topped with snow. Hurrah. Posted at 1:30 PM
Nope. Still all shit. Posted at 10:04 AM
Freezing. Without life. Without care. Sounds like just another day in my life. Posted at 9:52 AM
Posted at 10:00 AM
More snow coming for what looks like possibly every day next week - starting with two inches and possibly more tomorrow. Great. Posted at 10:35 AM
The world is a cold place. Posted at 9:34 AM
If you don't succeed, try, try again ... and again and again and again ... and keep trying for days and months and years and keep trying just to prove you never gave up. There. Doesn't that feel better, trying repeatedly forever and failing. Just think how bad you would have felt if you'd just given up. Posted at 10:05 AM
The recent suicide of Aaron Swartz has affected me quite a bit. Despite never having known him nor having enough talent or knowledge to full appreciate how much of an ultra-genius prodigy he was, I still saw many of the things he did and appreciated someone who was a true champion of freedom of information for everyone and ready access to that information for everyone. This was a person who saw no reason for different access or rules for people because of class/wealth/race/education/position/whatever. Because of that he was a hero, and I am saddened that he was overwhelmed by the threats from an overzealous government prosecutor for a non-crime, and I am saddened that even though he surely knew his innocence, he suffered from depression and clinical depression turns things around such that I'm sure even as he logically knew he was innocent he still felt plagued by doom and foreboding about what the government would do to him. He - and all sufferers of mental health challenges - deserved better. Most people blow me off if I mention I have depression. My friend Steve, an intelligent man and a onetime sufferer of anxiety attacks that scared the hell out of him, has told me just to "get over it" and "go on with my life." Gee, Steve; why didn't I think of that. My mother, long aware that I have depression, assumes she knows what I face. She's told me that "[she] has days when she's sad and [doesn't] feel like doing anything", so she understands. But she doesn't. My mother recently faced the death of her beloved little dog Maggie to a rare disease and she was inconsolable for a couple weeks, even losing quite a bit of weight. The intensity of that was closer to clinical depression, but it's still not the same. If Steve or my mom actually believed me when I've told them I want to die or if they could feel the crushing weight of everything in the world being my fault crushing down on me then they might start to see what I face from depression, but they still wouldn't get it. I'm glad they don't. It's a horror story that anybody has to deal with this. Anyhow, I came across this article yesterday about Aaron Swartz and his own clinical depression, and I felt it somewhat conveyed what depression does to a person, even if imperfectly. It's a horrible disease, worse than most physical diseases because it is not easily treated and is unexplainably damaging. I only wish I wasn't this way and that it wasn't so dominating.
Posted at 1:15 PM
I watched The A-Team movie on TV last night. I cringed at the commercials for it when it was being promoted for the big screen a couple years ago, and the poor reception by critics and audiences seemed to justify my disdain. Having seen it myself, though, I don't think it's quite as bad as I'd expected. The original A-Team was one of my childhood favorites not just despite the hokiness and absurdity but in fact because of it. How can you not see, weekly, a scene where the A-Team shoots down a helicopter such that it crashes into the side of a mountain, bursts into an immense fireball, and then three men stumble out of the wreckage, all of the fight knocked out of them but unscathed - how can you watch that and not just laugh at it? Besides, the true premise of the show, that this team of mercenaries could be hired to help solve your problems and right wrongs, no matter how poor or beleaguered you might be - that's the sort of ideals that I've upheld as the best parts of my life. Last night's movie was, as is typical with a Hollywood movie based upon a TV show, a rebooted concept based on the present but updated to be more modern/contemporary and to be more dramatic and/or exaggerated. Based on that criteria it was exactly what it should be. Based on the original show it failed to mirror the show's theme as a bunch of guys aiding others. Instead the movie focused more on the military careers of the team and the secret mission that led to them being fugitives hunted by the military as they try to right wrongs.. This was an interesting take on the show since that origin story was laid out in references at various points in the show but never shown in any way, only given as explanation for how they cam e to be in their current situation. The show even went so far as to have them try to redeem themselves at certain points, but never did they try to replay the origin story as a way to lay a case for their innocence. So the movie was novel in the idea of playing out that back-story, even if they did move it up from Vietnam-era service to Desert Storm-era service, and even if they had the four team members become drawn together more or less for that specific mission and everything that followed rather than having been a close-knit unit in Vietnam long before that specific mission. Still, I can understand advancing the timeline, so I can forgive that. Beyond that it was fairly lame, largely because of casting. Liam Neeson is no George Peppard, and without that smirking, scheming, charmer image, Hannibal just doesn't work very well. And the new Face, B.A., and Murdock were okay but pale caricatures of the TV show originals, which was a shame because they could have been made more realistic or more true to the originals but they were neither. And Jessica Beil was, as always, simply a lame addition as far as acting goes. So, I'm glad I didn't waste any money on it at the theatre a couple years ago, but I don't feel like I lost three hours of my life last night. I'll never watch it again - once was enough - but it was a novel idea that had enough entertainment to have been worth seeing. I read on Wikipedia that the director would like to make a sequel but I would definitely draw the line there. It was okay for it was, but let it go at that. Any more than just the one movie would be a huge travesty. Posted at 10:58 AM
Pain. Posted at 10:31 AM
No good. Posted at 10:12 AM
Today marks the beginning of the thirteenth year of this Journal and this website. For twelve years I have made a Journal entry every single day - occasionally twice in a day - and while I haven't been adding any new content in the way of poems or stories, and while I haven't been maintaining the site like I should by updating links and recommendations and such, I have still kept posting daily and making sure the site is running, not just letting it fall to the side. Is it worth it for you, the reader? Well, with no new stories or poems it's probably not. My Journal entries are often short and/or cryptic and often just plain depressing - and oftentimes boring. My life has gone from mildly interesting to stagnant over the years, and this website has mirrored that. I'm not even sure why I post every day any more. I don't believe I'm offering much of anything in the way of entertainment or wisdom, and in the big scheme of things I'm just another whiny voice blathering about how unsatisfying and depressing his life is. Heck, this is the Internet - you can find that all over the place, many times over, probably, in fact, done better than I've done it here. Twelve years, though, is a small mark of pride for me. I wish I had updated the site long ago with the long-promised version 3, and I wish I had been updating and fixing links if nothing else. But like so many other things in my life this site is not getting the time and attention it needs and has as a result just become yet another mirror of my life in general. I have the skill to fix everything, and if I pushed myself to work on it I could manage the time. The problem is that every time I think of fixing the broken aspects of this site I feel like I shouldn't be working on this while I've still got to find a job. That's the way it is with all sorts of other things, too. I feel guilty that I haven't been able to get a job yet - amazingly guilty, even though I couldn't clearly tell you how or why it's my fault that I haven't - and anything that's not a necessity (like grocery shopping or washing laundry) gets set aside for a later date because I just can't give myself permission to work on it when every minute should be working for a job. Then, inevitably, I look back at over six months of fruitless work looking for a job and can only see completely wasted time where I could have fixed this website, maybe even creating a new version; I could have catalogued my library of books as I've long wanted; I could have studied for and retaken the GRE; or I could have written stories and poems - for me, for this website, or maybe even for publication. But instead I have nothing to show for the last six months plus. No job, no nothing. So today I start a thirteenth year of this website and this Journal. I wish I felt I had more to really celebrate. Posted at 10:21 AM
Sixty degrees Fahrenheit in Sandusky, Ohio, not even two weeks into January, and yet there are still untold numbers of idiotic climate change deniers. The same people that deny climate change are the same idiots that deny evolution, who believe conscious life starts at conception, who believe that their religion's holy book is inerrant and literally true in every word (even when it contradicts itself), and who believe the moon landing was faked. Why these people accept the science behind gravity, penicillin, or the place of Earth in the universe (NOT at its center) is a mystery. It is shocking not that some people believe and/or disbelieve these things but that so many people believe and/or disbelieve thee things. It might make sense a couple centuries or more ago, but this is no longer an age when large swaths of the population are uneducated or isolated from communal knowledge - quite the opposite in fact. And it's actually not the people in poor countries who struggle for education who are the worst among these anti-science/anti-intelligence people come - they come largely from first-world, educated populations but dismiss logic, reason, and provable facts because of dogmatic concepts of the way they'd like the universe to be. Big news, idiots of the world: no matter how much you want or believe something to be true or to be the way of the world/universe, things don't behave and occur just because you want them to do so. Rather than lie to others and yourselves about the truth of these things that stares you in the face, perhaps you should take the time to understand and accept the facts and realities of these situations and adjust your world views and your religious views to accommodate and embrace these ideas rather than sticking your heads in the sand. Posted at 10:31 AM
The world makes no sense to me any more. It probably never did, but for most of my life I think I believed there were certain straightforward understandings and expectations of the world, but invariably that's all just proven to be hopeful fancy or outright delusion. How do we continue to face this nightmare? Posted at 10:25 AM
Posted at 10:03 AM
Down. Down. Down. Posted at 10:21 AM
My friend Dan told me today that he was part of a team that discovered a new planet, a potentially earth-like planet in fact. I am amazed and impressed with Dan. He never fails to surprise me. Good work, Dan! Posted at 10:29 AM
Take my life as a lesson, everyone. You can live your life focused on yourself, self-interested and even selfish and self-centered, and you will likely get much of what you want out of life - despite having abandoned people or driven over them in your drive to get what you want. Or ... you can live selflessly, giving to others of yourself, emotionally, physically, monetarily, and spiritually, never asking for anything back, and being a virtuous soul ... BUT ... if you live this lifestyle be sure that you will be taken advantage of, that you will have your motives not only questioned but warped and twisted by those who don't understand how you can live in such a giving manner, and realize that while you will achieve the nobility and honor that come from being a charitable, compassionate human being, you will almost undoubtedly be passed over or screwed over for promotions or romantic interests, deprived of any sort of comfortable let alone lavish lifestyle, and very possibly live a life that is in some fashion or another transient. It's not possible to be a good person and have success, and it is not possible to have success without at least compromising your humanity. There is not real middle road between these two, although most people try to find it. The choice is whether honor is more important than success or vice versa. The majority of people choose the same path, and they see this as the only obvious choice. It's sad, honestly, because if more people chose the other path then the world would be an immeasurably better place for everyone, regardless of which way they lived their lives. Posted at 11:08 AM
My mom called yesterday, the first I've talked to her in two weeks, during which time she's been visiting my sister and family, driving to visit an aunt and cousin of mine on my father's side, and picking up a different uncle (on my father's side) and his wife to take back to their new home in Florida for a visit and to help with some painting and set-up issues. Somewhere in there they celebrated Christmas, New Year's and their wedding anniversary, too. Even with all of that they had been back a few days already, so they were settled in and enjoying themselves. Good for them for doing so much, and good to them for enjoying themselves. I was in fact pleased to hear from my mom although surprised since I thought they were going to visit longer with each bunch of relatives, but apparently that was not the case. As with most calls over the last few years, however, my mom had a few things she specifically wanted to tell me, a couple things she specifically wanted to ask me, and once she'd covered those issues she wanted to wind up the call. This routine has bothered me on and off over the years but was very strong yesterday. For a retired woman who usually is at home crafting or reading it is at the least odd that she is always in such a rush to get off the phone once she's covered what she wants - particularly when she has generally initiated the call and could do that whenever she wanted and when she knew she had enough time to talk. But that's never the case. I always am cut short with her need to: 1) finish <appropriate meal>, 2) go to <store for shopping>,3) prepare for/get back to her guests, 4) finish packing for her upcoming trip <wherever>, or 5) some other weak excuse like needing to wash her hair. Maybe I'm overly sensitive - because let's face it: I'm depressed; I'm at a great low with this fruitless job search; I'm stuck in a city I don't like and that doesn't offer any events or locales for me; I have no social life and very little human contact; and I don't want to live - but it's hard not to see a pattern here after years and years of the same thing, call after call. Is it too much to think she could talk for an hour every couple weeks? Is it selfish to think we could cover more than the specific issues she wants to discuss? I feel bad about this because I feel like I'm being selfish about wanting some contact - even some emotional support - from a woman who's already providing a place for me to stay rent and utility free, month after month as I meanwhile am making no progress at securing a job and moving toward once again supporting myself. It's not that I don't appreciate all she's done and is doing because I do. I'm humbled that she's put herself out this much. I certainly never expected anything except free rent for a couple months while I got a job, packed up, and moved out; I couldn't have imagined being in my current situation, and I wouldn't have believed my mom would (or could) help me out over such an extended period of time. So I don't want to seem selfish or unappreciative because that's as far from what I feel as can be - but it still hurts to feel like I'm cut short from one of the incredibly few people I have to talk to. I don't know what I expect anyhow. Maybe this is indicative of a larger problem on my part - expecting too much. I've certainly lowered my expectations repeatedly about what kind of job I might get, and I had to lower my expectations a long time ago about what I should be able to expect from someone whom I considered a friend, and I've long since thrown away any expectations of ever having a loving partner, a soul mate. I even downgraded my expectations from not only my sister (whom I realized was minimally interested in maintaining a relationship with me) but minimizing my expectations from my nephew and niece who - though I love deeply - are not connected to me nor I to them enough that they call or text or e.mail me with anything about their lives - ever. So it shouldn't be surprising that I expect too much of my mom. For some inexplicable reason I still expect her to be like a good TV mom or like the mother's of some of my friends, but she has never been and will never be that kind of person. And while she is much more communicative while she is here visiting, perhaps that's just because she's a captive audience and doesn't have a choice; she can't get away in person as easily as she can on the phone, so maybe it's all just me. And it probably is just me. That's what it always seems to come down to. And while I an accept that, that doesn't make me feel any better or any less wanting. It just makes me see more reasons that there's really no reason for me to be here, living in this world that clearly doesn't want or need me. Posted at 9:36 AM
So. Much. Laundry. Posted at 10:19 AM
I miss having the Toledo Metroparks to walk through. There are parks and metroparks here but they are small and not like the forested areas with simple trails like I knew in Toledo and Akron and Lafayette. I miss that chance to commune with nature. It more than once allowed me - after days of walking and relaxing along the trails - to clear my head and feel better (and even get a little mild exercise in at the same time). <Sigh.> Posted at 9:19 AM
I may be going insane. Posted at 9:58 AM
Six months of this fruitless job search and as disappointed as I've been I've plugged away and kept trying. Yesterday I felt a twinge of something I couldn't exactly place, and today I feel it fully. It's hopelessness. I can't keep trying and failing and manage to avoid facing this huge feeling of not only failure but complete hopelessness that there is any job out there for me. I doubt myself and my qualifications, and I don't have any idea what to do. I am lost in this dismal situation, and I have no idea what to do. On top of all that I think I'm facing a new wave of depression building in me - be it from some chemical imbalance, the reality of my situation, or whatever else might be causing it - and that added to everything else is bringing me down and making me face the horrible realities of my current situation. I refuse to give up trying, so I will continue to look and apply for jobs, but I don't know what the point is other than to say I haven't given up. And if by some miracle someone finally calls for an interview I cringe at what I might be like in an interview considering how I feel about my prospects, myself, and life in general. This isn't rock bottom - that will be when I'm living in an alley and starving and cold, sometime in the too-near future - but it doesn't feel like I'm hovering very far above that absolute bottom, let me tell you. Posted at 11:22 AM
All this snow shoveling is tiring. To think I imagined that one of the few good things that would come out of my grandma passing away was that I wouldn't ever have to shovel snow again. Ha! Posted at 11:20 AM
Journal, by Paul Cales, © January 2013
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January 31, 2013
