Excerpt from The Official History of Tomorrow’s Dream pages 87-89

NOTE: This is an excerpt from the book I wrote way back in January  2018 and published in May 2020.

Excerpt from The Official History of Tomorrow’s Dream page 87-89

How Jocko and his teamster pal Buck got over the scrap of indigo blow snort gavel, only a real scientist will tell. Examine them closely and you would never know they were table beef survivors. The tracking devices made them look cool and even lowered their temperatures but they were being watched. Every skip and jump over the sand dunes were known by Kaydick Industries.

“Jocko self serving through production of self right bbbbBuck?” Jocko asked with unquestionable certainty.

“Aww knock it off Jocks. We’ve been through this before. These feelings of inadequacy will pass. Drink this.”

Buck passed the chuckle juice to Jocko knowing it would calm him down and in turn calm them both down. Jocko took several swigs and starred into the several sunned blurry sky wishing he were still a civilian and not a runaway ex table beef. The Agency had no use for them but Kaydick Industries followed their moves for the fun of it more than any business matters at hand.

“Feel better now?” Buck asked.

“Yeah. I feel so inspired. Can I piggy back now?”

“You know you’re too heavy but if you need human contact I can ride you. Just remember last time I rode you. You tore a few stitches.”

“It’s ok. Ride me. Ride me.”

The temperature was rising near 1,046 degrees porfeos. Dry heat that humps your glands like a reptile. If you’ve ever been humped by a reptile then you know. They had no choice in a life situation like this but to keep moving. The other side of desert is the town of Gointhaw. They would be safe for a while there. One would think with a population of 456,890 they could get away and not be seen despite the high tech tracking system.

 

Meanwhile Ralph was helping me with my own problems. The center of my scrotum was unnerved during the last explosion. I needed Ralph’s strong hands to reach inside and “pull the strings” as the motthoppers called it in my day. Not sure of the proper medical procedure’s name. Ralph wasn’t medical. He was physical for sure. He stuck his hands right up in there, you see. And wiggled each finger one at a time until he saw my fantastic grin reaching each ear almost. Chagrin. Ouuuther.

“Thanks. I needed that.” I said.

“Uppers yup. For you I can do fritterpops. Wholesale style. Ya know.” Ralph said.

Now my only agenda was to take photo options for the Agency. They remote wired me for the mission. My brain would freeze as they send a signal telling me when to click the device resembling absolutely nothing like a camera or visual recording device. It was built into my forehead like a third eye yet invisible to the eye. It was under my skin yet the 3 kolopuy length and width lens could actually see from the far away Agency laboratory. The trigger/button was on the side of my nose and only about .006 Kintopuys. It looked like I was scratching my colossal sized honker.

It was a fairly simple routine besides the brain freeze but the Agency was cautious and paranoid so Ralph was by my side in case I ran into any trouble. In some countries and cultures scratching my nose and staring at someone would be considered rude or a primal way of saying “skitter over lipper”. Even an inactive agent like myself could get quite the head banging and artillery action for that. Ralph is there to break up any potential violence like that and multiple other types. He’s a good zoo, ya know, it’s fun to keep him around. He doesn’t need weapons. I told ya what those hands can do with my “problem”.

A POEM: Rose Colored Goggles (for Joe B)

 

Rose Colored Goggles (for Joe B)

 

Speaks slowly as if expectations are for you to savor every word

When he’s not too busy exercising his inherent talent for listening

To the ranting, venting and complaining of others.

 

The secret mystic patiently awaits his turn to react and advise Wisely his positive spin on whatever it is

I am self absorbedly going on on on and on and on about persistently like an ADD child demanding attention

 

Intuition and listening are his gifts yet unrecognized because of his

ASSociations with the mentally challenged or selfish, self absorbed people in his life.

He has answers but has learned through the years to wait to share them

We are not always ready for the answers

 

As you get to know and love him you realize he is human too

Moody, judgmental and self righteous like the rest of the world

Showing this side to only the closest of allies

We and or I accept this for all he has endoured with our friendship

Through years upon years

 

Relationship dynamics change as with all intelligent free thinkers and sometimes we grow apart and then grow back together stronger

A selfless man in actions sets the example I strive for.

Well grounded yet spiritual, mystical, creative and verbally expressive.

 

I call this man

I repeat man

As my best friend

And a major contributor to society and God’s world.

Not About Me?

I seem to write about the same thing when it comes to personal stuff. It’s either about my conditions, my personal life and me and me and me. That’s what I know about most. I feel the most. If you haven’t noticed or read anything I’ve written before you know that am extremely self-absorbed. Most of the time I don’t mind. I even like it. Sometimes I wonder if I could be different.

 

I stopped going to 12-step meetings 6 months or so ago. The one thing I forgot about was the contributions I should be making to others. Doing things for others. Then again did I ever help or do anything for anyone without seeking the rewards. Even if it was to avoid the feeling of guilt I rarely do things for people without secretly wanting something in return.

 

I found that the greatest feeling in the world is to give to someone freely with no expectations yet it has always been the last thing I think about doing. Interesting.

 

I’ve never considered myself a selfish person. I am very giving if I am asked. I don’t always think to offer. I know I’m not the most important person in the world and “it’s not about me” as I’ve been told over and over through my 19-year stint in the 12-step program. I’ll help you out if you ask most of the time.

 

Today was a test, learning experience and some fun rolled in there. I woke up late not feeling well mentally and physically. My face hurt. I was stressed over the usual things. I felt depressed. At one point I was ready to cry. Meanwhile I had a commitment to meet a friend of almost 20 years. Her and her husband and friend moved years ago to Texas and I see her once a year or every other year when she is in New Jersey to see her family. This was to be the first year her daughters came to meet “Uncle Fishbone” as they’ve heard me referred to for their 11 and 12 years. Fishbone is an old nickname that I only hear from my friend.

 

As the time for our meeting approached I felt more anxious and my face pain kept coming and going. I debated back and forth whether I was going to be able to make it or not. I was feeling depressed and agoraphobic. I took a shower and got ready to go to see if I would feel better. I felt worse. I waited to the last minute and finally gave up. I texted my friend and cancelled. She understood and was disappointed. I was disappointed also. I ran out of cigarettes and had to run to the store. As I was leaving the store I felt better. I had to see my friend. I changed my mind. I was feeling a little better. I texted my friend and asked if it was cool if I changed my mind. No response. I drove home and she called just as I pulled up to my house. She was still going to the diner and I was going to go. I went.

 

It was a fun time hanging out with an old friend and 2 pre-teens. Her daughters were a trip. They were funny and intelligent and I had a great time. My friend told me I seem like the same old Fishbone to her. For better or worse I took it as a compliment. I felt great and a great 2 hours. We even talked about how everyone thinks about themselves more than anyone else. Not just kids.

 

I came home and crashed hard. Between the anxiety and face pain earlier in the day and the excitement of socializing I fell asleep hard and fast. I woke up later in the night and stayed up all night. I woke up the next day feeling pretty good and productive.

 

I wish I could remember that it’s not all about me. For now, I’m going to keep writing about me.

Want What I Have?

“I had a person say to me “I don’t want what you have” so I said “How do you think I feel?”” this guy shared at a meeting once. It was funny yet it made so much sense to me. Sometimes I don’t even want what I have. Ya know? Do you? I think most of us live in between happiness and unhappiness. It’s as if everyone has a little bipolar disorder in them. Not literally but everyone has ups and downs in life. Some if us have it in extremes.

If you ask me how I feel right now I’d tell you that I am a fucking mess. I’d list my problems that I’ve mentioned in previous blogs. Well, depending who you are. If you’re the mailman, next door neighbor or the guy that works at 7-11 I’d tell you everything is fine. Actually once I’m in public I feel ok but then I feel bad when I am alone again. I’m also sick of talking about it with most of my friends because I haven’t been good for a while. You might even be sick of reading about it as well. Are you?

Overall, I am usually a positive spiritual person with a deviant warped sense of humor and odd interests. It is a struggle lately to balance my spirituality with my mental breakdowns and anxiety. I start every day with prayer, meditation and medications. The first hour or 2 start off find and I feel fairly spiritually fit. Then reality kicks in and I panic. I choke. I find it hard to function on a daily basis. Every day is a slow progression to a freak out. I get a few things done towards moving. 2 days left before I have to clear the house. As the day goes on I feel more anxiety until I can’t take it anymore. The next day is a little worse.

The part I hate about everything right now is that I feel all alone. I try to talk to people about it and they either pretend that they understand or change the subject. The other thing is a lot of my friends offered to help me and then when push comes to shove they don’t. I had 3 different people offer to help me move heavy furniture out to the trash yesterday and they all bailed. No one wants to help me move or pack and I can’t blame them. They’ve helped a lot in the past. I did it myself. Today I moved all of the heavy furniture to be moved downstairs from my 3^rd floor bedroom so when and if my one friend comes on Friday it’ll be easier. It also cleared the floor so I can finish packing. I know this isn’t a big deal in real life but in my head it’s overwhelming. Ugh.

Seems like I can write all I want about it and the feelings don’t change. Usually writing helps but it’s just a momentary distraction like everything I do.

My point is that I have no point. Ha. Actually, I’m trying to say that I don’t want what I have right now so it’s tough to talk or communicate with people and function at all. I know in my heart that it will all pass. This too shall pass. I have to go through with the feelings and move on through it. I know there’s a spirit of some kind with me at all times but I’m just not feeling him right now.

Tune in next time when the writer says “Life is grand. I’m happy joyous and free.”

How to Avoid Life Through Self Absorbtion

I used to wish that I was one of those artists that was so self- absorbed that he didn’t give a shit about anything else. Dedicated his every waking minute to his art regardless of the outcome or what anyone thinks. No social life. Not many friends. The one that stayed in and did his craft day after day.

I’ve gone through periods of my life where I’ve been able to do that. I was able to focus on my art and that was it but there was always an inherent need to be loved and liked especially by women. There was a time that my entire identity was based on how much I was loved in a relationship. As I got older and more confident in myself I started to go through periods of working and caring only about my art, writing or music. It’s when I feel my best. Alone and creating.

I think that’s why I have been so anti-social lately. All I want to do is write, edit, create and promote. I hardly want to leave the house or look for a job or date or have sex or anything except write, write and write. Create, create and create. What’s really odd is that the loneliness is there. My need to be loved is there. I want to fall in love and date but instead of allowing myself to feel it I repress it and keep moving on my projects. My projects are my self-absorbed escape from my true feelings. I’ve turned my fear of rejection and loneliness into productive creativity.

Almost everyday I force myself out to a meeting so I maintain some sort of connection with the world besides the online community that only aids my anti-social behavior. It also keeps me grounded, spiritual and away from a drink or drugs. I try and keep as close as I can to my God as I can even when I am alone creating. Especially when I am alone creating.

Despite my fears of rejection, abandonment, loneliness and looking for employment I am quite happy with my life because I am using them to fuel my creativity. Hmmm. I guess I’m not entirely avoiding these feelings. I know that they are there. I’ve just taken the wasted energy worrying and put it into something positive. Life is good even when it’s bad.

This is the Way I Feel Right Now

I made this the other day but it best illustrates how I feel right now. Not bad or good. I just don’t feel like writing about it.

“I Think I Get More Enthusiasm From My House Plants . . .ha”

“I think I get more enthusiasm from my house plants…ha” she wrote me in an email.

She ended it with that. She basically told me flake or no flake that she feels like she’s wasting her time on me. It wasn’t worth much more effort on her part because I don’t seem interested in it at all. I was. I am. I’m just a flake. No. There’s more to it than that. That word is a cop out.

I just don’t seem to be real enthused about meeting new people even though I make the effort. I keep starting new relationships and then fade out or put it off. Whether it’s dating or hanging out with close friends I just put things off or don’t follow through on getting together, returning phone calls or emails. It doesn’t seem to matter whether it’s a guy, girl or in between. Ha. I guess it’s not a good time for me.

I can make excuses like I’m self-absorbed and into my writing and other creative projects. I’m depressed. I’m bipolar. I’m an Alcoholic. I’m a drug addict. The anniversary of my father’s death recently passed. I’m unemployed. These facts are all true but they are just excuses. I deal with these issues daily. Generally speaking I am happy for the most part. I just can’t seem to take interest in socializing outside of my comfy little internet realm or at 12 step meetings.

I have to go to the meetings to help maintain my sobriety, spiritual level and help others. I get to socialize as a bonus. I have to socialize there. When I was working it was also a forced socialization with my co-workers that I liked dearly and the customers I could take or leave.

Sometimes I leave social situations in a bad mood, sad or depressed for some reason. Even though I receive the validation I used to crave, I don’t really care about it anymore. Like I’ve written before I don’t know what’s happened to me in the past few years but I am a different person. I’m ok with it overall but it’s so noticeable that it concerns me sometimes. Isn’t life supposed to be a mix of inner reflection and socialization? Are we not as humans born social creatures?

Maybe it’s the internet that’s changed me. I can have all sorts of relationships and socialization without leaving the comforts of my living space, my mind and my feelings. I don’t have to face people when I’m down or too happy. I can be whoever I want to be on a social networking site. I end up being me anyway. I can be self centered and write about me and promote my projects without interruptions. I don’t have to listen to other people talk about their trips or interests. Don’t get em wrong, more than half the time I am interested in listening to other people once I’m in a social situation. Other people can be interesting but sometimes I just don’t feel like it. I also leave the situation feeling down for no reason.

The past ten to fifteen years I have been dealing with people in my life that are as flaky if not flakier than me. They cant commit to anything. They don’t show or cancel all of the time. They do the same exact things that I’ve been doing and it used to drive me nuts. I learned ot accept that few people do what they say they are going to do or won’t say because they know they won’t follow through. Now I’m one of them. My motto used to be “a commitment means –come hell or high water I will be there”. Now it seems to be this wishy washy decision that I put off to the last minute. I usually back out.

I don’t know if this has to change or not. I was forcing myself out socially at least once a week to try and be a social human being again. After a few months I stopped. I go out when I have to and once in a while if I feel like it. I return emails when I feel like it. I pay bills just on time at the last minute. I do chores at the last minute when I have to. Like I’ve said repeatedly I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. It’s working for me so far so I shouldn’t really worry about it. I just don’t want to lose friends and become a total recluse. I might enjoy it for a while but I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life.

I’m going to try and be more social and bring more enthusiasm than a house plant to the table. I love life and I love people so something has to change. Meanwhile I plan on staying home all day writing and such an go out later to a meeting.