Indistinct Mumblings of an Unsound Mind

Yesterday, the kids went to Sara’s (Ivy’s). It was not a bad time. I ran out of diapers at exactly the time she came, so Amaris was on her last one. The kids are excited to see their mom. They miss her.

Kayla had a stressful day, but it seemed to turn out ok by the time she came home. She looked to be in a decent mood.

Guillermo came over. I gave him the rest of the lasagna. It was rotting, I hope he gets sick…
… … Ok, I’m kidding, jeeze. He took the lasagna, and it was fine. He probably ate the whole thing last night, and then ordered pizza and beer to wash it down with.
—

Last night, I slept. I only woke up once, and it was to harsh breathing on my part. I was screaming in my dream, because I had died. That’s normal for me – I usually die in my dreams, and wake up here. Occasionally, I have a death gone horribly wrong, and it carries over the anxiety into my waking life.

The particulars of my death were as follows: Someone had come to my house because there was a bounty on my head. This is approximately 25 years in the future. Pagan beliefs had been outlawed, and there was a one world church. This church was based in spirituality, without affirming any belief to a particular god.

It had been awhile since I started a group for alternative beliefs. A large amount of my friends were in this group, and we were having a meeting. We were in the middle of discussing differences in beliefs, and I had just served tea.

The door knocked. It was beginning to become difficult for me to get up, with the old, wiry frame the gods provided to me as I aged; so I chose to send my friend, Martin, to answer the door. As he opened the door, he was lanced with a sword. That was the price we had to pay for the law we broken. “Practitioners of the old ways will be put to death by blade.” Everyone knew. They charged in, and I reached for my staff. Since Beverly gave it to me, so many years ago, it never left my side.

I didn’t even purchase hold with it before they hand me in arms. They made me watch each one of my friends while being knifed and lanced. Undeserving, in their eyes, of a swift death, their lungs were punctured thrice. Gasping, the wet suckling sound of air trying to fill the collapsing lungs for almost 7 minutes, while the “Peace Officers” restrained me and filled out paperwork.

Finally, the head guard came forward, and I was released to heave my withering body on the ground.

“Stand up.”

Rubbing my shoulders, I began the slow process of standing from a prone position.

“Lott, James, Pagan, Practitioner of Celtic Shamanism, Is that correct?”

I could barely breath. I tried to speak, but I was scared – I couldn’t.

“Come now, James. Don’t attempt to deny yourself what is due. Do you, or do you not practice the heathen ways?

I responded, laungidly exploring the air before it acknowledged my death sentence, “Yes.”

“Good. That wasn’t so hard now, was it? … No, I didn’t think so. Now, before we carry out our orders, answer me one single question,” the guard paused just long enough for me to notice her nameplate, “Why?”

There was so much I wanted to say. So many years had passed since the enactment of the ROP, or Religion of Peace, that I couldn’t fathom telling her why. I struggled with words, juggling them in my mind, before settling with just one.

“Love.”

And as she unsheathed her saber, and began the ritualistic slaughter of her grandfather, my granddaughter smiled, “You know nothing of love, you old fool.”
—
After this, I went back to bed. Later on, Kayla nudge me and we played with the cats.

For the past day or so, I’ve been really good with the hallucinations.

Like I mentioned previously, had a fight-ish thing with Kayla.

Other than that, I’ve had the shakes, and a massive headache.

Dismal Out!

It’s been a bit since I’ve been inspired to write prose. Or hell, to write at all..
This is not a journal entry, it is just simply prose, based off one of my favourite authors.

Take it as is. Blog entry to come later. Bueno!

—

Teasingly, she took the plum from his mouth. Juice ran down his chin. Slowly, deliberately, she leaned over and licked the sweet juice from his chin. He didn’t move. Their faces mere inches apart; she shared his breath, quick and warm. So close was she that her eyes could scarcely focus on his. She had to swallow the wetness in her mouth.

Reason was rapidly evaporating from her mind, being replaced with feelings that tantalised her with promise, gripped her with hot need.

She released the plum, bringing her wet fingers to his lips; watching, her own tongue on her upper lip, as he let each finger slider into his mouth, slowly sucking the juice from them one at a time as she offered them. The feeling of the inside of his mouth sultry, wet, and warm; sending shivers throughout her being.

A small sound escaped her lips. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her chest heaved. She ran her wet fingers down his chin, his neck, to his chest, lightly gliding them over the imagery painted on his skin, tracing it with her fingers, feeling the hills and valleys of him.

Coming to her knees above him, she circled a fingertip around the hardness of one of his nipples, firmly caressing his chest as she let her eyes slide closed for a moment whilst gritting her teeth. Gently, but forcefully, she pushed him down on his back. He went easily, without protest. She leaned over him with her hand still on his chest for support. The feeling of him surprised her, the rigid hardness of his muscles, sheathed with yielding, velvety soft skin, the wetness of his sweat, the coarseness of his hairs, the heat. His chest rose and fell with heavy breathing, pulsing with the life in him.

Leaving one knee next to his hip, she put the other between his legs as she looked down into his eyes, her thick hair cascading down around his face as she continued to support herself with the hand on his chest, not wanting to move it, to lose the connection with moist flesh. A connection that was igniting her with its desire.

Between her knees, the muscles of his thigh flexed, sending her pulse racing even faster. She had to open her mouth to get her breath. She lost herself in his eyes, eyes that felt as if they were probing her soul, stripping it bare. They sent fire raging through her.

With her other hand, she smoothly unbuttoned her shirt and pulled out the tails.

She put her hand behind his strong neck, still holding herself up, away from him, with the other on his chest. Her fingers slid into his damp hair, tightened int a fist, held his head to the ground.

A powerful hand slipped under her shirt, to the small of her back, stroking in little circles, the slowly sliding up the line of her spine, sending shivers resonating through her, before coming to a stop between her shoulder blades. Her eyes half-closed as she flexed her back against his hand, wanting him to draw her against him. Her breathing was so fast, she was almost panting.

She drew her knee up his leg until it wouldn’t go any further. Little sounds escaped with some of her breaths. His chest heaved against her hand. As he lay under her, she thought he had never seemed so big to her before.

“I want you,” she panted in a breathless whisper.

Her head lowered. Her lips brushed against his.

A darting look of pain seemed to cross his eyes. “Only if you first tell me what you are.”

Reason floded back in to her mind, washing coldly through her, drowning her passion. She had never cared for anyone like this. How could she touch him without restraint? How could she do this to him? She pushed back. What was she doing? What was she thinking?

She sat back on her heels, taking her hand from his chest, putting it over her own mouth. The world came crashing in around her. How could she tell him? He would hate her; she would lose him. She would lose everything held dear. Her head spun sickeningly.

He sat up, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. “Shush,” he said softly, drawing her panicked eyes to his own, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Only if you want to do this.”

Her eyebrows wrinkled together as she tried to keep from crying. “Please.” She could hardly get the words out. “Just hold me?”

He drew her tenderly to him, held her head to his shoulder. Pain, pain of who she was, reaching its icy fingers into her. His other arm wrapped protectively around her, holding her tight agains him as he rocked her.

“That’s what friend’s are for,” he whispered in her ear…

So, I received a call from Drivetime this morning. Transcription Follows:

Veronica: Hello, is this James?

James: May I ask who’s calling?

Veronica: It’s Veronica.

James: Okay.. Veronica from wher–

Veronica: –Drivetime. Are you James?

James: Yes I am. What can I do fo–

Veronica: Listen. I’m calling to make a payment.

James: (Confused) Umm.. Ok. How did you want to make the payment?

Veronica: No. I’m calling BECAUSE YOU need to MAKE a payment. How did you want to pay today?

James: Veronica, I’m not able to make a payment at this time.

Veronica: And WHY is that?

James: Well, I’m honestly sort of busy right now. Would you mind reading the notes on my account regarding the situation?

Veronica: James, I’m the one who spoke with you at the beginning of the month. I know about the “situation” with disability, and that you said it can take months. WE can’t wait that long.

James: Ok, So you know the situation, and that I don’t have any money until that decision is made.

Veronica: Then we are going to come pickup the car today. You didn’t think you can just drive he car for free, did you?

James: No, I honestly didn’t. At the beginning of the month, we both agreed that the car was going to be repo’d didn’t we?

Veronica: Well, we simply can’t wait for payment any longer. You’re 90 days past due.

James: I know, and I’m sorry; but there is nothing I can do about that at this time, as you well understand.

Veronica: So you’re simply just not going to pay your bills?

James: Veronica, if you know that I have no money until my disability comes in; and you’ve told me that you are repossessing the vehicle, and you are in full understanding of what’s going on, why do you persist in repeating the same questions.

Veronica: Fine. What is the address of the vehicle?

James: Same address that’s on file.

Veronica: OK. Have a great day, and thank you for choosing Drivetime.

—

So, I called her back, and straight out asked her. I’d have a log, but google voice doesn’t transcribe outbound calls. Sorry. It went like this:

Larry: Thanks for calling Drivetime. My name is Larry. How can I help you?

James: Yes, can I speak with Veronica, please?

Larry: One moment and I’ll patch you through.

…

Veronica: This is Veronica.

James: Hi Veronica – This is James. You just spoke with me.

Veronica: Yes?

James: I was just curious as to why you were being confrontational and degrading during our conversation?

Veronica: Because you are past due.

James: Yes, but you understand that the entire situation is out of my control, and despite the fact that I cannot pay, do you not see that I am a human being?

Veronica: Well…

James: Well what? I do not appreciate being made to feel like a horrible person simply because you feel the need to degrade someone. If you need to disassociate from the people you are talking to, then do so; but verbal abuse is not acceptable.

Veronica: Well, you are past due on your account, Sir.

James: Yes, and we both know the reason why. Your job doesn’t entail this kind of behaviour.

Veronica: Very well. (Sarcasm) I’m Sorry… (/Sarcasm)

James: I didn’t call for an apology, but thank you. I called to let you know that your behaviour was disappointing, especially as a person who is supposed to be a professional. That being stated, I hope you have a sincerely wonderful day.

So, there you have it. Please feel free to call Drivetime, and ask for Veronica. The number is (800) 483-1963.

My favourite question to ask her so far, is why she believes degradation of customers is part of her job.

Oh, and if she divulges ANY account information, please contact me immediately.

Yesterday and today have been slow. Luciene has been testing my patience, much as I imagine I tested my father’s. Amaris, of course, follows suit. She is testing all the limits, and she’s also checking the emotional one’s that Luciene never tried.

She has perfected the whine, the pout, and the lip tremble. I adore my daughter, and sometimes wish to punt her like I do the stupid dog. What’s this? Peta? Well, that dog crapped on my floor 3 times in less than 10 minutes, directly after she went outside.

Yeah, yeah…. I know… I wouldn’t actually do it. She probably needs to see a vet, and I pity her for that. I’m just sick of poop and pee everywhere. Dear Gods, She has more liquid in her than a beer truck before a frat party….

Kayla’s medications make her a lot happier, but I can already sense the anxiety that Effexor is known to bring on. Her jaw still hurts from the teeth being extracted, but the swelling is to the point where it is almost no longer visible. Pretty soon, she should be able to feel a lot less pain.

Called the VA today. Hoping to get a decision soon. Calling Social Security tomorrow and asking for further information, if they need it.

Lauren came over. Helped her out with filing for FMLA. Talked with Tarl on the phone, chatted with Monica for a bit.

No non-obvious hallucinations today. My home still seems to be a safe haven from myself. No complaints there.

Goodnight!

Every night, I stay up until the twilight of the morning. Sometimes I lay in bed, listening to Kayla sleep, the cats run up and down the stairs, the piggies squeaking in their cages, and the occasional muffled sound coming from my children’s room.

Other nights, I watch the stars, and wonder what could have happened if I was normal. Then I drink the alcohol of choice, and take a slew of medications designed to make the people I’m conversing with disappear from the view of my mind’s eye.

Going to sleep around 5ish does have it’s benefits, though. I end up having time to clean things that I miss during the day; and I get a lot of bonding time with my cats: Yue and Angel. Tommy usually stays with his mommy once he’s tired.

My tax return is coming in. I’m supposed to be getting around 3k, of which 1k will be going to pay for Sara’s back taxes from last year. I still need to send her Amaris’ Social Security Number, and let her know she is technically allowed to file as Head of Household for her plus 1.

Sean Sloan called me the other day. I would say it was yesterday, but the date/time stamp on my voicemail says it will only be saved for 13 days. I’m obviously way too late to call him back. I feel bad, missing out on him; because he is a treasured friendship that I desire to keep.

Kayla had her wisdom teeth removed. She’s a bit swollen, but at least she doesn’t look like she has a golfball in her mouth anymore. She’s supposed to go back to work tomorrow, but I would honestly expect her to call out part way though using her FML. She can’t talk for long periods of time, and her job is ALL talking. That doesn’t quite mesh.

We watched Species earlier. I was very disappointed. I’m sure it would have been much better if it were not edited for over the air network tv, lol. Right now, we’re watching Desperate Housewives. Many cute men. Only one cute woman, in my honest opinion.

Kids are doing well. With the rebate, I’m taking a decent portion and getting everyone clothes. Especially socks – we are all in dire need of socks. This shall be called, “The Great Sock Crisis of 2010!” or “GSC10!” for short.

I’ve been so depressed lately that I haven’t been blogging like I’m supposed to. Hell- I even hallucinated that my counselling appointment voicemail was for 4PM, instead of 8AM (We rescheduled for Next Friday, at 8AM). I plan to remedy the no blogging, and am actively working on doing it every night.

That’s about enough for one day. Beside, I can feel the Clorazapam kicking in. Goodnight, Jim.

My last post was 5 days ago. I’ve been really depressed, but I think I’ve been hiding it well.

Kayla and I were this <-> close to ending our relationship. Not sure how much we’re progressing, but I hope that I’m making big enough strides. I have a number of areas to work on.

Guillermo spoke with her about leaving. I loathe him for always running away from problems. It must be nice, sitting alone, in an apartment, afraid to go out in the general public, and telling others that where they are is not safe. Yes, it still bothers me. People who run from problems bother me. Deeply. Deal with your shit: Then come out and help others deal with theirs. Until then, shut the hell up, will you?

Kayla and I went over to Leo’s. I was originally going to speak with him alone, to reduce stress and get an unbiased opinion. Instead, he tried plying his hand at counselling. This did not bode well. I’ve not written this because I had hoped to forget. With everything that occurred, unfortunately, it won’t depart my memory. I am still angry, and my final words stand.

My son had a good birthday, by children’s standards. By anyone else’s standard, I’m still a poor father that cannot afford a single present for his kids. Thank the gods for SNAP: At least he got a cake. That made him REALLY happy.

I’m in the middle of reformatting and reinstalling xp or linux on most of the computers.

Kayla’s grandfather died. She has been affected, but is unsure how to deal with her feelings, from what I can tell.

Yesterday was my annual. For the two people that sent me a message of some sort: Thank you – I love you, too. Everyone else: Thank you for confirming my deep-seated feelings of loneliness and complete lack of self-worth.

No, really – I shouldn’t talk like that. It just makes everything spiral into itself. I feel like a mid-90’s album from a post-industrial alternative rock band.

I feel alone. Completely and utterly alone.

I know that I’m not, so don’t bother responding. I live with Kayla, and have my friends and family; but I feel horribly and terribly alone.

Sure, we reside together, but it doesn’t even feel like we enjoy each other’s company. We fight, and never make up. Nothing changes, everything decays.

I see friends, but never long enough. I just want to reach out and hold them, and laugh like I used to, but it never comes. All remaining is a bleak, darkened tunnel that I feel like I can never crawl out of.

My family calls me, and I call them routinely, but I don’t feel like I can connect. We talk, and pass time, but I never feel like I’ve actually spoken to someone. I feel like an emptied vessel, just a piece of what I used to be.
—
We had a big fight. I don’t know if it was last night, or the night before. She’s so unhappy. I’m on edge. She’s anxious. I’m depressed. She’s sick. I’m tired. How much is too much? When do you step back and give up? I usually run things into the ground, because I don’t give up. I think giving up is the easy way out, and it doesn’t resolve anything.

It pisses me off, because any time we’ve had a problem, her best friend’s solution is to just run away. He is always suggesting that we end the relationship, and that she needs to leave. I’m so sick of it. I want to just exclaim to him that running away is the reason he doesn’t have, and will most likely never have a long-lasting, meaningful relationship with another person that isn’t related to him.
—
I think Leo wants Bob. This is a good thing, I think. I don’t know, but I do think so. Yue, Angel, and Tommy all get along. It’s going to be sad when everything ends. Tommy and Yue are so happy around each other. Angel is really close to fitting in as family: I just watched Yue groom her. No fighting, just grooming.
—
I stay up late at night, with the blanket over my head, wishing for sleep. She snores, and the cats run up and down the stairs. They sound like thunder, coming in waves of three. The house is always dirty. I don’t ever feel clean, but I’m too tired to take showers most days. We’re out of shampoo, and conditioner. I get food stamps on the 6th, but I can’t get shampoo and conditioner with that.
—
Luciene’s birthday is coming up on the 7th. I don’t have any friend to invite over. I don’t even have the ability to make a party or get him presents. He does seem interested in a cake, though. That bodes well. I can make a cake.
—
My birthday is on the 9th. I’ve never really celebrated my birthday before, and I don’t see a reason to change that yet. My hopes are to get so drunk I can forget everything for just one night, and maybe be at peace before the reality sinks in the next morning of all the lives I’ve screwed up.

Hopefully next year I’ll have a reason to celebrate.

And that’s all for now.

Today was Charming of the Plough (sometimes known as Idis-thing)

Originally celebrated on the new moon, Charming of the Plow had been moved towards Februrary 2nd due to the adaptation of a modern, solar calendar. This is a festival of fertility and beginnings, of the planted seed and the plowed furrow. Many pagans, specifically the Asatruar, celebrate today with a wooing by Freyr of the Maiden Gerdr; a symbolic marriage of the God of Fertility with the Mother Earth. In much of Northern Europe, grain cakes are offered for the soil’s fertility and Father Sky and Mother Earth are invoked to that end.

This holiday also generally honors all Goddesses and the Disir (female ancestor spirits); Who bring blessings of fertility as well as important lessons. This is a good time to recall outstanding women in one’s family line. In most climates, this is the time to plant seeds indoors, to later be transplanted later, into the spring garden. A good way to honor the traditions of this day is to meditate upon your dependence on the soil.

—

My kids did not listen today. I love them. Alot. But they could not hold attention, or follow directions, for the life of them. Ended up going to bed early tonight, which is not entirely a bad thing as we have to get up extra early tomorrow for me to take them to their mothers and go to an appointment.

I think I had a manic episode yesterday, because the house was entirely cleaned, from top to bottom. Not that it matters, it is in shambles. I stayed up all night the other night to do laundry. I think I’ll be doing the same again tonight. I don’t want to over-sleep the appointment.

I’ve been having slips from reality, despite the Tenex, lately. I’ll be watching TV, or reading a book, or watching someone do something, and BAM! It’s 5-10 seconds later and I’m confused.

We’re watching Zombieland.
ZombieClowns.

Oh, and I have a new resume to work on soon! Excited for something to do.

Goodnight, Self.
—
Edit: Oh yeah, and my car is actually going to be Repo’d, once they run a credit check and find out where I live. Cleaned it out. Don’t forget this, Jim. Kind of important.