Archive for the ‘You Decide’ Category


Well, he didn’t. His body did.

Nobody could reach him but he had a spare key under the mat. Even I knew that, as I’d been over to his house for dinner and socializing. He wanted to make sure that if I got into trouble, felt sick or anything else, I was go straight to his place.

So sweet, but oddly ironic. His apartment was a longer walk away than mine.

No idea what happened, but he was found sitting in the living room, relaxing in his favourite chair with the TV on. rigor mortis.

He was older but not that old. Smoked and some other health issues he told me in secret.

Heart Attack? Aneurysm? Something that was fast since he wasn’t found in an odd, accidental or dangerous position. Those two are my suggestions. He had serious cardiac problems.

NOTE: this Post was started days ago. I found out he was recently scheduled for an angiogram for cardiac care.

He was a part time bartender at our local pub. Such a small clientele means two degrees of separation. Or one.

When I got there, a mini shitshow as there weren’t a lot of people around. The news was new.

He did a lot for the Community too. Coached and organized an entire baseball league. Get kids off the street and give them some proper support and guidance.

I met a lot of the kids too. So happy and full of joy.

NOTE: I have no long since I started this.

This actually happened yesterday. I’ve been up all night and it’s well into morning now. Somehow I managed to have a shower. I don’t understand how that occurred.

I’ve connected with his sister to offer any help necessary. She said she’ll be in touch. They don’t live here plus I have been through this process when my Mom passed away.

I’m tired but no sleep now. The sun is beaming like a laser into my eyes.

Not sure what the next few days will bring, but since he worked at our little pub it’ll be days of an Irish Wake. My liver is in for a serious ride.

I’m back to complete this after several days.

My liver might be falling at this point. I’m too jittery and full of ADD, Asperger’s and mourning my Mom all over again. At least I’m getting some sleep.

I gave some resources to his sister and offered to help with anything regarding the throngs of people coming to the Visitation.

I haven’t heard back, but I know it’s a big deal serving food to people constantly, and always coffee and tea available.

The Funeral Staff don’t actually do that as there could be more services to attend, and seriously it isn’t their responsibility. They’re not Servers in some fancy Cafe!

I’ll show up and just see what happens. I know the drill.


Why the fuck won’t people listen to me when I know what I’m talking about? I’m not an expert at everything, but when I explain the logic behind a given matter, people tend to look at me like I’m a five-year-old.

Just now, I was trying to explain to someone how to do curls for their biceps. They were going to fast. You need to go at a slow rate, inhale when you lift and exhale when you lower the bell.

Think about how fast you can inhale and exhale depending upon the weight you’re lifting. Without taxing your breathing or respiratory response, lifts should match in kind.

This then evens out your rounds and repetitions. That’s very important because if they’re not consistent, you can end up with strains or injuries.

I’m not a Fitness Instructor but I think I’m right. I’m just working from my Medical Anatomy and Physiology knowledge. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong. I’ve just worked out this way and I know it’s worked.

This is just an example in the immediate. People still don’t listen to me when I really know what I’m talking about.

It pisses me off. To no end. Do I really sound that fucking stupid?


But I really want to write something.

Okay. I’m sitting outside on my patio, having some beer and listening to music. iTunes on Shuffle.

The weather is gorgeous. It’s later in the evening. Almost 2200hrs, and I feel like I don’t want to go inside any space ever again.

If I’m correct, Jupiter is right in front of my eyes. It’s huge. Right this time of year it should be huge, I believe. So I’ve got a front row seat!

I was listening to this earlier. It makes me cry no matter how many times I listen to it.

What else? Why don’t you tell me?


I lost my long Introductory Post for this Category. It was scrawled down in a notebook and now seems gone for good. This also tends to happen with a lot of my other writing, but in most of those cases it’s a good thing.

There is one thing I do remember. Artichokes are your best friends!

Put them in everything! Yummy.

Okay, I cheat. I don’t put them in everything. I’ll just eat them while I’m cooking. You can follow that rule too.

Yummy.


I’m finding myself falling into a pattern again. It’s bringing men I meet in a bar home at closing hour.

I did this years ago while Bipolar High Swinging. Alone, lonely. However, the majority of the time was when I was spurned (or worse) by a woman I was in love with.

Yes I’m gay. And a clear yes to the spurning and worse, it was unrequited love.

So I’d select some random guy and fuck him. Certainly not the other way around.

It was ridiculously easy. Sit in a corner. Pick one. Start making eye contact, and before you knew it, all of your drinks were free.

Back home was ridiculous. All of the compliments, wanting to “make love.” I wanted to slap them all until their teeth fell out. The only thing that was alright was giving me a precoital massage. Briefly.

Afterward, I’d kick them out of my apartment as fast as they came (extremely bad pun.)

One guy insisted upon sleeping and cuddling until the morning. I actually grabbed his stuff, threw it toward the door and started screaming at him to get out. I think it was 0400hrs or so?

I wasn’t angry with them, of course. They were nothing. Blank Canvases. Simply there for me to throw my life’s mess all over them. Constantly trying to find the right colour of an unruly heart.

I’m back again. This sordid terrain. Yes, there is another woman responsible who is driving me to become irresponsible.

Sure, I could “own it” but it’s not that easy. Especially considering the past, and how easy it’s been to slip into it all over again.

I need to stop stranger danger with these men I meet. It hasn’t been pretty.


Someone enjoyed the last song I put up. Awesome! And thank you.

More awesome, is I used to stream my own music. MP3 Of The Moment.

However, I required someone who had a Server. ftp up the files as WP wouldn’t let you actually upload your own files.

At least not in the way I wanted to for everyone. I enjoyed adding comments and quips below the link.

Well I’ve been gone so long, this is new! Toss up a fucking TouYube? That might help a lot with my own music choices!

I just might have to warn people that it’s all about the music, the song. Not the ridiculous, or even visually horrific images where I am guilty of assault.

I’m free and clear with this one though! At least as far as this one is concerned; song and images.

I desperately want Tukker’s jacket as well.

https://youtu.be/cYeFSbKOTOg


I haven’t used my Stereo in a long time. It’s a BOSE Wave III. If you have one, you might know where I’m headed.

I won’t get technical, but the sound doesn’t head in all directions. Efficient sound. Better quality. Much.

So the best song I have to actually test that theory, is this one:

“Dance Yrself Clean” by LCD Soundsystem.

Have a listen. The BOSE does things. To everyone’s ears.


The Phantom has returned. Maybe she will Post once a month, a year, it will be useless, ranty, but that’s how she’s feels now.

Plus not giving a damn crap about grammar.

I’d get into the story but I’m too tired and honestly ready for the Psych Ward because of it.

Soothing Goth Music and loads of drugs to get to sleep.

Laters.


Yes. I’m creating a new style.

It will surely catch on quickly, for those walking around with permanent, dark clouds over their heads. Just like me.

The rest of you “sunny folks” might not take to it so much. But if you do, you might have to work a bit harder to end up on the runway. I’m already designing my first line.

To those who want to audition, email me with your Headshots, completely showing your Dark Clouds. No Agents are required. Neither are your body sizes.

Although, your tastes in music I feel are a requirement. Please state them, and send CD’s, .mp3’s, whatever, with your favourite songs. That would be very helpful.

I am a Fashionista, so keep that in mind. That will never change. No matter how much I may wish to throw myself off a Condominium with 50 Floors. Or, anything else like that.

Which would hurt.

GRIEVOUSLY.

Now, everyone interested in modelling, please carefully consider my Philosophy:

“It looks like shite, but it would cost hundreds of dollars.”

I’m quite serious about this. I will put something together, all Dark-Cloudy-Headed, and people will think I’m a total freak of nature (which I am but that’s irrelevant.)

I’ll casually stroll past the most expensive stores in the city. Soon I’ll hear the sounds. Once again. At least now, no longer deafening.

Multiple Ambulances, the Police, the Firemen and Women. All because of so many turned necks, heads and bodies that have been shot back to me.

My “Trashy Attire” WAS worth hundreds of dollars. And unfortunately a lot of hospital beds. But for looking better than the rest? Is it really your fault?

I don’t bother sticking around for the Media. That would be extremely poor taste.

So let me know what you think.

I was just thinking too. Maybe Neganovelty wouldn’t be such a “Novelty” after all. Just like in Fashion, you can NEVER go wrong with black.

There are a lot of people out there that don’t have only permanent dark clouds over their heads. They have ones that are permanently BLACK.

Maybe mine is too. I do look striking in black. And every woman has “The Perfect Little Black Dress” in her closet.


I’m home right now. Had to bring some things back. Everything I’m taking will not fit in a single car, trip back and forth. Unless you rented a truck? I’m Next of Kin. MINE!

My Transpo got waylaid too. Just have to sit and wait for my driver to come tomorrow.

There’s been a lot going on since Mom died. Well, that’s quite an understatement if you’ve ever had to deal with someone’s entire life since they’ve shuffled off “This Mortal Coil.” That one’s okay. The Band. However, every single person has said some variation of “Pass.” Passed, Passed On, Passing, Passing On.

Being a writer, I not only love every single letter that creates a word, but also words themselves. Then, that creates more love and lust for everything. Including, but not limited to: odd, emotionally laden, archaic phrases and expressions. Many times they can be all three. Perhaps this “Pass” business fits in there somewhere. Despite that possibility, I’m too exhausted to learn at this moment. It just strikes me as rather unusual.

Why won’t anyone say anything related to death? We’re also talking about multiple generations! Those of her generation, me and my sister, then my sister’s children! She died.

None of these people are Buddhist. If anything, I should be saying, “Passed On” because of my Buddhist beliefs.

Moreover, you can practise Buddhist beliefs and philosophy without the entire issue of coming back in another life form. If you disagree, come talk to me. Buddhism isn’t always that peaceful either. Monks from differnt sects have gone ballistic; yelling and screaming, throwing things to actually injure each other. Quite amusing.

Things haven’t been that bad for me though. At least physically.

I have a lot of feelings about my Mom dying. About my Mom living! Many of them conflicting, confusing, painful and sorrowful. Anger too. I also know happy, funny and not necessarily so negative. Although, there is one thing I did not question at all, not for a second. As soon as I knew she was going to die (ultimately of bone cancer) not after she died, I would never be the same person again.

That can happen, right?

Right?

Am I wrong here?

Things have been so out of control, trying to deal with everything in a practical manner, I haven’t had any time to process a single thing. Maybe a tiny shred of some emotion has managed to reach the surface, but it’s been very brief. Only then, a few tears have escaped, and rolled down my cheeks. But no matter what, I refused to let any more out.

Unless I was on my own. Then I could cry. Sometimes, many tears would come out, yet I couldn’t identify why or what on earth I was feeling. What was the trigger? What was making me cry?

There was another reason why I would only cry alone. It was much stronger, and my mind was crystal clear regarding this situation!

I’m staying at my “Dad’s” place. I’m only calling him that  because everyone else is. I still don’t feel he’s actually my Dad. I kicked him out of my life over 15 years ago after he stole $5,000 from me. Well, I caught him. Then it took forever for him to pay me back. That was just the final straw.

I’m now being reunited with many extended family members on his side. After cutting them off for more than 20 years? They’re all hugging me, telling me how much they love me, how so, so sorry they are about my Mom. Gee, that’s not more to deal with, is it?

So I’m DEFINITELY not crying in front of them! I’ve already had enough “touchy-feely” from you, thank you very much. I wouldn’t be of any help dealing with all of this from a Hospital Psych Ward. Some days, I feel like I should be in one. Some days, I feel like I’m already in one!

When this is over, I have no idea what is going to happen. It’s going to happen anyway though, so there’s no point in worrying about it. You can’t rush grief. You just go through it.

ASIDE: my friend who is taking care of my mail and apartment while I’m away just popped by. He told me his friend died today. I couldn’t believe any of my senses. We’re both friends with a guy in my building who knew the deceased. Looks like we’re going to have a grief party.

*sighs*