bemoan the fate

Okay, don't really bemoan the fate; I just like ominous titles.

Is there still anyone out there even? I know I haven't posted in a while, but this blog is not dead. I'm certain I've made similar pronouncements in the past, and they've probably been followed, for the most part, by dry spells.

I nearly began this paragraph with the phrase, "Not having regular computer access . . ." until I realized that I'm still at Momma's house often enough that I'm at least still able to nearly keep up with my reader, and I do still get more Fb than is really necessary.

And as usual, I'm not even approaching any sort of a point.

A fun part of moving has been revisiting my very own early-mid '90's via the journals I kept at the time. There's a sad arc of journaling that I'm able to follow from the early '90's that began with me, much older than most people at this stage, ranting and moaning and being depressed with my lot in life. This is followed by a stage at which I made my very first friends outside of the church/school that I grew up in.

Perhaps a brother will come up with an earlier friend that was somehow unrelated to either the church or school we all remember so well, but I think it's highly doubtful. And that really says something, because I think I was very late teens by the time of the first of the journals, and I'm pretty sure I've got all of them I ever scribbled in.

I keep managing to, in a general sort of way, not do something sensible for myself. I need reorienting, and while I'm not looking to my self recorded history as an example of how stagnant I can really be, I have once again begun to keep a journal. This time it's a three ring binder and notebook paper. It was a recipe book for the last place I worked at in Charlotte, so that would have been early '98, shortly before the big move and months before the birth of Big Brother. I mention this because I have a nice stack, about half of them the classic black and white Mead composition notebooks and the other half being spiral notebooks.

And for what it's worth, I have now self referenced the blog as well as referencing the journal, but the beauty of all this is that I've done the same in the journal. And that gets us back to the blog.

I've always needed to make better sense of my computer time, and since reading other people's blogs and Fb seem neither to want to give up their share of time, and since I no longer actually live within the same space as a computer, and because I know that some amount of writing nonsense seems to help me maintain a certain balance of something, I'm going to make sense of the two in a way that makes some amount of sense.

Doesn't that sound fun?

seasonally speaking

It may just be that Momma and I are twins, she being the light to my dark.

She is the flowers and sunshine to my moonlight and desolation. It struck me tonight to hear her talk about doom and gloom which is my usual forte, and I thought of the song HERE.

The song represents me well. I know the darkness, and I work so much and so often to find my way and defeat that darkness. When Momma spoke to me tonight of her recent problems, I couldn't help but think of this song and hurt for her. She is in a place, somewhat new to her, that I find myself fighting all too often.

But that's not where I choose to leave it. I have a better song in mind. The band, Fastbacks, is certainly less well known than Johnny Cash, but it's a band that's been a longstanding favorite of mine. The song HERE is the song I choose to move on with. This is my current power anthem, the song that I dedicate to me and to Momma as we rise up and move forward.