500 Words a Year

Apparently 2015 was a bad year because i published no words. I believe it was a comment from a person I knew long ago and respected that shut me down. He said he enjoyed my little pieces of writing. I had no notion anyone was reading them, let alone someone I know is very intelligent and insightful.

The moment he said it, I had a flash that I would never write in that particular forum again. Then I scoffed...ridiculous. It will encourage me to write more. It will give me confidence.

It stopped me altogether (it stopped me)

my brain doesn't work right.

i've known it all my life. And all my life people have been telling me I'm fine and just like everyone else. I'm not. you are wrong and i am not.

I am stranger than strange and only compensate cuz my IQ is supersized and I can figure things out the hard way. It takes a long time and it's never quite right but close enough because you all don't pay that much attention, do you?

you know what having aspergers and a high iq is like?

it's lonely.

that's all. it's not good. it's not special. it's not useful.

i am intrigued by serial killers cuz the only people i can relate to are people who are way out on the lunatic fringe. I am not a killer. It would have been useful if I were but I'm not. Some things I can forgive myself. Not that.

Deliberate cruelty is what Blanche Dubois calls it. And swears she's never been guilty of it. But she was...she was...she was... That's the repeating repeating shot shot shot throughout the play. Streetcar Named Desire. Tennessee Williams swam every day. and wrote every day. he said. I think he lied.

Blanche's cruelty was telling her fiancé, whom she'd caught in bed with another man, that he disgusted her. The boy then went and shot himself in the head.

Things haven't changed much, really.

I am so very very sorry.

hairball alarm clocks--is it a 5-alarm hairball?

4 am time for feeding. well, I haven't had cats to kick out of my bed in 2 weeks so it's kind of nice.

What's for breakfast, mom? A good swift swipe off the bed and onto the floor. HAha'ha haha 'ha...

ooops. I hear pussy feet coming over the foot of the bed. Shit she's on my stomack. in 2 seconds she'll have her little face hanging over my screen, hairball hanging between her teeth like a big juicy cigar, ready to do grave damage to my laptop.

Cat olympics--hairball yakking. Awards for biggest, farthest, most complex and artistic merit. It's not enough today to show strength, throat or tensile; must show style.

Garden-Variety Affirmations for non-Garden-Variety People

We will TEACH you Suggest to you mold fold bend staple and mutilate you into becoming the sort of Garden-Variety person you need to be to get the Program.

No really we will teach you to calm yourself or excite yourself as necessary, and in touch with the reality around you, while not abandoning the reality you've built within. A fantasy world if you want to call it that for simplicity's sake (and we are none of us, simple people. we can appear plausibly simple, even to ourselves, but in my experience our roads are particularly messy and gnarly for a variety--perhaps even a garden variety, but exponential varieties of garden varieties all happening at the same time with exponential force.

I hear this gets better with practice. But why should we have to practice a natural state of being. Well, deaf people practice sign language. To be better understood.

Oedypus's problem? not that he fucked his mother, no. 

But that he didn't know himself. 

See, if he knew he was her son, he would not have fucked her. If he'd known he was his father's son he would not have killed him. And none of that shit would of gone down. That basic knowledge of "Who am I?" would have caused him to made different decisions. Presumably. I think we can presume Jocasta was not a MILF and Oedypus was not a perv.

FINE in pink at end of text so you know you 've got it all. Save feature on Blogger weirding out. I think it has something to do with signing in and out of google to get gmail under different account. Answering letter between blog and actual letter (DO not try this at HOME kids==hit that send key at the wrong time ===after a fantasy tirade against boss=== and U R scrod.

Why addicts are insomniacs:

We like to stay in that in-between stage (sleep/wake) as much as possible because that is the closest thing to a nice peaceful nodding out high as we are going to get without morphine. et al.

Not conciously, but [oh gods the refridgerator. I can't handle the washing machine and now the fridge?] I'm getting all my 2013 bad luck in the last 3 weeks of December. and what's my part in this? Procrastination?

or MS and heart disease and depression and shock and Aspergers and inability to judge character and being royaly raped in the soul and pocketbook.

Smart but unbearably naive. That's an Aspergers thing and it frustrates the hell out of friends who want to appear cool under all circumstances. They give me lectures. But none of them have made consistantly* good choices.

*FAIL. and I thought I'd learned how to spell consistantly consistently. o no that was anomolous shit and double shit. anomalous a ha all is not lost. oh yes, how many English words have 3 Os in them?

where was I?

Aspie stupid rewrites/thank-you letter; I am NOT worthy

Well, thank you so much! That's a surprise. I'm sorry I've had to back off on volunteering
I know things have changed since Dad's time, but's pretty cool--they take all your blood out and put it in a tank. Hopefully there is no vampire with a straw hiding in the next room. (Did you see "There Will be Blood"? The "I drink your milkshake" scene.
See, I already have myself cut open on a table, probably with an incompetant anaesthesiologist, and I haven't even had the stress test yet. That's how I project and scare myself silly.






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As little as I did at the Garden, I was finding it exhausting but too embarrassed to say because it sounds so whiny. My doc is having me do a cardiac work-up based on bad EKG--I don't know what it all means yet, if it means anything, but it suggests clogged arteries and my father had to have valve replacement surgery. Every uncle I've had on both sides died of heart disease except one (appendicitis I think. I have a LOT of uncles..)

Ope It's pretty cool--they take all your blood out and put it in a tank. Hopefully there is no vampire with a straw hiding in the next room. (Did you see "There Will be Blood"? The "I drink your milkshake" scene.

See, I already have myself cut open on a table, probably with an incompetant anaesthesiologist, and I haven't even had the stress test yet. That's how I project and scare myself silly.

Nausea--The sensation I get whenever I think about writing, sit down to write, or read the crap I've produced.

Now THAT is marketing. LOL

Because of an INSTALL interruption, I just lost about a page of text. It's not much but I hardly ever lose work. I use MAC and it backs up like the newest cutest boy in the cell. It never seems to stop backing up. It should go beeeeep beeeeep beeeeeep to let you know it's backing up, because it would be a soothing tone, like pre-installed iphone alert tones you can choose based on your meyer-briggs profile.

writhe

 

writhe

[rahyth] Show IPA verb, writhed, writh·ing, noun

verb (used without object)

1.

to twist the body about, or squirm, as in pain, violent effort, etc.

2.

to shrink mentally, as in acute discomfort.

this is so hard, so exhausting, to explain. 

On Sat, Dec 7, 2013 at 11:00 AM, KWBGS <kwbgs@kwbgs.org> wrote:

December 7, 2013

Dear Costello:

The Key West Tropical Forest & Botanical Garden wishes to thank you for your volunteer service. In the year 2013, you have put in seventy five or more hours which results in a free membership.  Your continued support places you at the Individual membership level and entitles you to all the benefits associated.  Additionally, we would like to thank you for your continued assistance in the protection and growth of this unique garden in the lower keys.

Retain this letter for your records.  Please note that the Key West Tropical Forest and Botanical Garden Society is a registered 501 (c) 3 tax-exempt, not for profit organization (EIN #65-0084855).

To help save the environment and cut costs, the Garden’s newsletter is now sent electronically.  Please sign up for our E-newsletter by sending your e-mail address to kwbgs@kwbgs.org.   We invite you to refresh your acquaintance with the Garden’s website at www.kwbgs.org or www.keywestbotanicalgarden.org and experience our updated site with more garden information, news and updates.

Sincerely,

Misha D. McRAE

Executive Director

Well, thank you so much! That's a surprise. I'm sorry I've had to back off on volunteering

As little as I did at the Garden, I was finding it exhausting but too embarrassed to say because it sounds so whiny. My doc is having me do a cardiac work-up based on a bad EKG--I don't know what it all means yet. It might mean nothing, but Google, my highest source for medical/surgical information, suggests clogged arteries.

Big time family history. My father had to have open heart surgery. Just about every uncle on both sides (a LOT of uncles) passed from heart problems.

Dr. Covington also suspects multiple sclerosis, but he's not a neurologist. Still, I trust his instincts, so that's another possible cause of exhaustion above and beyond Fibromyalgia which I've had all along.

I'm really not a front desk sort of person but I hope there will be opportunities for me to continue to volunteer. I also can't tell from one day to the next how I'll be feeling, so it's hard to have any regular schedule.

I guess I don't feel worthy of a membership--more like I let you down. Sorry this is such a long text. I don't want you to feel there was anything about the Garden itself that was so unbearable it drove me away. I felt appreciated and enjoyed the volunteering.

thanks...hope you are well...
Anna

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this had to do with a play on the words write right wright which I love to do. Writhe is pronounced a bit differently more an assonance thing (getting the rhyme wrong). oh my gods I look at writing I did as a child and see I make the same spelling mistakes. Not exactly the same. my errors are not perfectly consistant. It's an assonance thing. I can't believe I can spell assonance. I so astound myself I competely lose track of what I'm trying to say again and again, but I'm leaving my errors in now so you can see whay I am so astonished I was able to spell assonance. consistantly perfect. Now if I could only spell consistent. once is luck. consistent requires at least five consistants in a row (see?) without deliberately paying special attention as much as possible to the spelling part and just write the word in a sentence casue it has to be natural or it doesn't count. '

And sometimes a typo is just a typo. Clumsy fingers. Oops another trait of Multiple Sclerosis. holy fuck I learned to spell that right qick enough. Here is my dilemna:

I don't know how to tell people bad news. Gods know why, but there are a few bleeding hearts and artists distressed at the thought of my sickness and "early" demise. Half a century is long enough.

I am not suicidal. I just think half a century is PLENTY of time...I did lots of stuff...I see poverty ahead (If I believed I could move I very probably might but the task is too daunting. Unless I move to low income housing but I wasn't ready to cash in assests that have dropped in value to where it still wouldn't pay off all my debt. That watch. Now that I can't walk I'n ready to take a picture of it. 

Life is not a challange. So I make up challanges. just to keep the adrenaline flowing. but when weird adrenaline choices are being made on a regular basis, they become a new regular. You keep needing to be more and more odd, breaking the odd speed of noise barrier and things go boom and you wreck everything and need to start over.

Which is on of the biggest motherfucking challenges. Look at that Graph that rates life events, good and bad,

[i've done this one...check back...]

I'm starting to  step back from my journaling and seeling how it migh work as a book. I think that's a good thing. But then, where is my journal? 

My Garden-Variety journal? I'll keep that one hidden or in a hard copy journal. I still like the pen on page. I like drawing (yes, there are apps to draw...I can't do that right wright writhe now.)

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writhe

 

writhe

[rahyth] Show IPA verb, writhed, writh·ing, noun

verb (used without object)

1.

to twist the body about, or squirm, as in pain, violent effort, etc.

2.

to shrink mentally, as in acute discomfort.

My Garden-Variety journal 

 

FICTION: AA Buddies Drinking together-- A new twist on the Buddy Movie

Been to hell and back and liked hell better.

Same world of denial. Denial shared is denial squared.

Follie a Deu

Boy Aspie vs Girl Aspie. Old story with newish twist

R U holding your breath? Let it out.

Let the squirrels out, too. They're exhausted. Even squirrels have a limit. Squirreliness morphs into surliness, then MAyHeM.

but what if they don't come back?
YAY! one less squirrel.
One fewer squirrel. HAH. hoisted by my own peetard.

less vs fewer.

U don't need to correct the world's English grammar, usage, style... you'll leave spelling to the boy Aspies.

CAN WE GET STARTED HERE???

only if u stop shouting. ouch.

I keep hearing cats and realize: it's my lungs.
NTS: get flu shot.

apply 4 disabled houseing STET

I said stop shouting. cunt.

Bye bye babie we are working. U can't work without me. it's boring and lame. and inauthentic. only inner child, innocent, can be truly authentic.

I don't think I have an authentic self. I never felt like a child when a child. Now I'm grown and act like child. No judgement. It's good sometimes to act like child: chasing butterflies.

there's a difference between reluctance and dread.