“Lose the fear of pain

Walking in the sharpened rain”

Willie B. Good

I was looking for a particular notebook/journal… Part of the reason was to find the poem containing the lines above. Willie B. Good is a pseudonym, an alter ego, old blues man. I found the notebook, which has some good stuff, but the search for the referenced poem ended in disappointment. It was, how to say it nicely… Shit. I was 21 and doing too much acid and drinking, as well as “partying” in general, tho at the time, “too much” was an alien concept, at least to me. I was doing a lot of writing, but a lot of it looks/sounds the same. I guess that reflects the repetition of my daily life, as it were. I think acid can, and did for me, expand consciousness. It can however make everyday reality seem, for a better way to put it, lacking potential, which drinking was probably an attempt to blot out, which I was aware of. My mom sent me to a drug and alcohol councilor when I was 16-ish. One time he told me ” This weekend you were found, no coat, shirt half off, in a puddle that was freezing over. That doesn’t sound like fun.” He continues with “I can see going out with a girl or some friends and smoking a joint or two, maybe a couple drinks…” I looked at him and interrupted “Sometimes It’s not about fun, it’s about oblivion.” I didn’t see it as a problem, I saw it as the only reasonable solution. I believe that the episode he referenced came about when I invited a very attractive young lady to help me drink a fifth of whiskey, don’t remember the brand. Long story short-ish, she didn’t show up which I responded to by “sharing” the bottle with some friends. We were in a shed behind the arcade that the owner put there so we didn’t have to party in the elements. Sharing this particular evening consisted of passing the bottle around, except my turns were an impressive guzzle. The bottle only made 2-3 trips around the 3 or 4 of us. My friends were like “what happened, it’s empty already.” The answer became obvious a few minutes later when I started wobbling and weaving…

I’ll probably use Willie’s lines somewhere else, or maybe attempt a rewrite of the original material. Right now, I’m not working, recovering from knee replacement surgery. One of the things I’m s’posed to be doing is working on my book, which reads about like this here thingie, ramble or whatnot. I did at least start this blog, tho I’m still having trouble with the paperwork I should be doing. Guess I’ll work on my procrastination sometime later. It’s a cross between amazing and borderline idiocy, the distractions that I manage to find for myself, all the time telling myself that I’m doing the best I can. Circumstances, circumstances, home all day with Jill, who is suffering with Alzheimer’s when I’m used to (and sick of) going to 40 some stops 4 days a week. We have helpers coming in 4-5 days a week, and Jill’s friends call and/or come by. My friends, not so much. They do call, but as hard as it is to admit, I’m very lonely, haven’t even seen family in years, starting before the pandemic. Even had a couple friends come back to visit, call to tell me that they’re around, be great to see you… Told them to call when they had some time, then… (Sounds of crickets chirping) I didn’t call back because I know that they certainly had plans and I don’t want to be a pest, but with everything else going on, I took it personally, and again, hard to admit, it hurt a lot. So, complications with the incision healing keeping me from being too active and bathing with waterless soap that I hoarded up over the 2 months I was in and out of the hospital last fall keeping me from feeling quite human, depression, loneliness, being broke emotional and financially, not to mention losing Honey, my 3 year old puppy dog to medical issues right before surgery are taking their toll. I’m a survivor and I’ll get through it and come out stronger, but it sure as shit don’t feel that way, and hasn’t for about a month. I do get moments of sunshine, like when mother birds bring their babies and feed them in front of my window by the bird feeder, waking up in a good mood for a much needed change, enjoying a meal, or sharing a laugh with Jill. Ah, and life goes on… So if you like, you can wait here as I take another walk in the sharpened rain…

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