what was that about softball?

i recall wondering if i will be playing softball when i am 100 years old some time ago and that was a few days before i stopped playing softball and have not played since cuz of an injury that has kept me on crutches for seven weeks and will continue to keep me on crutches a few more weeks and the momentary moods have fluctuated from highs to lows even more than usual, especially the lows... it's easy to get depressed and feel like nobody really cares and think about what the old age years will be like when all there is to do is sit around tapping keys, playing solo games, listening to music, watching tv, physically vegetating and waiting for somebody to notice i disappeared from the social activities i was sharing for years...

poof, i was gone...

not having a partner in life is more challenging than ever these days, but at least i have a roommate who, while moody at times, has a wonderful heart and has mostly daily (when she's around and in town) done a lot to help me survive... she probably looks for things to do to stay away from home, especially on weekends, cuz she has no real privacy outside of her room cuz i am stuck sitting here in the recliner with my foot up almost all the time... driving myself batty, so probably on her nerves too... but this would have been a whole lot more challenging without her...

i still fall into feeling poor-me (and poor in many ways as i cover almost all of the bills for the living space and it is a not wise fiscal choice that i was going to remedy when the least was up this year but before then, she returned and my move to a one bedroom lower rent didn't happen and she's been catching up on bills this year so i am getting poorer and poorer covering bills and still trying to live {spend} the way i want to live {foods, shows, softball, not that extravagant, but splurging beyond my means and ignoring that most of the time} and watching any hope of retiring before death dissolve into a miserable you can forget that idea buddy)...

and then there's the lack of exercise and bloating up cuz it's bad enough i have no physical life outside of dragging myself to an unappreciative office to do job i love to do (balance at work, sorta) without having to cut out foods and eat a 1200 calorie diet cuz i only burn 1000-1200 calories a day, if that much... so when i notice, body depression rolls up like a big fat dark cloud...

and this is beside the other stuff, loneliness, lack of romance or love or sex, cluttered apartment that needs cleaning really badly, dog always begging for more attention and activity than i can give, inability to shower or do anything physically as i'd like to, being totally dependent on a roommate, and feeling like a burden and in the way too much (among other stuff but hell, isn't this enough for one momentary mood?... sheeesh)...

bummer feeling, really... lucky it's only momentary...

narf...

funny ha ha?

so for those who might know the history of the writer, the old guy who adopted the writer's body when the writer was 14 years old (after entering the writer's life when the writer was ten or so years younger) was born on this date... too bad the old guy died late last year or he'd have been a centagenarian, centurian, centipede, whatever, however it might be spelled... too bad his sons are just like him and somehow usurped his will and left the writer with nothing, which is just what the writer expected in spite of the hope the writer knew was foolish from the start... too bad the mother died before he did so all her money went to him... the writer knew she lied when she said the writer was in her will, but that's the way that family was... they always lied cuz they couldn't deal with truth... anyway, it's the number 100 that the writer finds interesting... the writer wonders if the writer will live to 100... the writer doubts it...

the writer is not as somber as it might seem here, actually... just getting home from softball (subbed in for a friend's team) and went 2 for 2, a triple and a double, and five rbis and one run scored (left on third after the triple)... the game was called after two innings cuz we were up by 20 runs... good night, would have liked to play longer... long day at work with many complications (and still getting phone calls)... anyway, good day, better night, busy, tired, feeling good...

wonder if i will still be playing softball when i am a hundred... whatever is such a good place to be for me cuz i care more than ever there, just not needing anything... i miss needing a little, sometimes more, seldom a lot these days... alas and all, but whatever inspires my giggles... wish you were in a better place... i'll be around when you get there...

stay positive, you are stronger than you feel...

magic moments

the last ten minutes (about) of it's a wonderful life floors me every time no matter how many times i've seen it... there are other films that grab me, hold me, melt me, and compel me to an emotional catharsis on different levels (wide range of types, from miracle on 34th st to fifth element to hook to some even more diverse), but few can kick me out of complacent egotism or detached intellectualism as well as it's a wonderful life...

thanks all who made it, every one :)

sometimes i am so amusing

to myself, at least :)

vulnerability (what goes around...)

loneliness, sadness, wanting to sleep when there is so much to do, sleeping to avoid facing the aloneness... wanting to cry for myself, feeling like nobody really loves me because nobody puts me first... and i am always left with the clean up... alone... nobody ever leaves me well taken care of or even taken care of... and this feeling may be an emo pity party exaggerated in my mind, but the evidence is everywhere... no art, no creative play, no positive spin, just alone...

as if i was not meant to avoid some things (like {wide-eyed wonder} the personal journals and diaries i found left sitting right next to me?... wow, is that an accident or is that trust and conscious or not, actually intentional deliberate hope for continued connection and a real life safety net?)... fool, there is always hope... or at least there is always the positive spin lol lam laa)... sigh :}

i can only hope i did good and this time... something comes around...

fidgety fodgety foo

(just for whatever, pretend it was the 18th)

floating along at break neck speed on the precarious balance all alone and with death possible at any moment the best we can do is enjoy the moment...

that is life :)

out of place euphoria

moods come and go so quickly sometimes that one or another can seem so out of place amidst the events and circumstances of the day (or night) as a day full of good fortune can see a few tears and a day full of misery can see a glimpse of euphoria, but when pure bliss is the base emotion upon which all others are draw, it is the most frequently out of place of all (and so therein least mentioned, aye?)...

bliss :)