writing

February 18, 2025

Blue Tuesday

I am thoroughly depressed and I am trying to find a way to write it in the most eloquent way possible. The unfortunate fact is there is no one way to put my feelings when they’re this disjointed and unrelated. Well… related just individual thoughts that exist in a train with no connection.

My job is basically dead. For me at least. My boss hasn’t felt the need to offer me any assignments to “keep me afloat.” As a result, I’m overcome with panic attempting to decipher if he is attempting to get me to leave without firing me so I can’t claim unemployment. The position I am in, I’m technically an independent contractor. So he doesn’t need to do anything. Except take 60% of whatever I bill which as of right now is… nothing. It doesn’t hurt his pocket at all. He is still getting jobs. So… what does he care?

With the way the world is I’m wondering if I need to just fuck right off. If I have to start at ground zero with a new job why not get the fuck out of this goddamn dumpster fire and find something else abroad?

Immediately thinking that I am overcome with guilt of leaving my brother and family behind. He won’t go with me. He would stay here. And I could just say “that’s his choice” but… I’m not that kind of person. This is why I hate getting involved with anyone or anything. I rather be alone. I have the type of personality that I tend to make friends wherever I go. It’s genuinely uncanny.

I guess… since I have to start over after the death of my husband that also includes employment. Awesome. I didn’t know that this was genuinely a restart, on difficult mode no less.

I don’t know what to do. I wish more than anything I could talk to my husband for 10 minutes to ask his advice. I am so terribly lost and lack any purpose. And the state of the world has suck out the dregs of whatever ambition I had left.

February 5, 2025

Solo Cruise Retrospective

It is super humorous to me how I begin each of my posts (as of late) like I’m a fucking Carrie Bradshaw. Like some mega corporation is paying me to write about my adventures, pretending it’s not just me putting out my own fucking “brand.” (God that’s ridiculous: brand.) Each of these posts I start off as professional as I can, as if my editors want pizazz and intrigue to hook my readers. Like I have any…

I get about two paragraphs in and I feel so inauthentic. I don’t like how I sound or how I will be perceived. Then I delete whatever bullshit I typed out and drop this bizarre facade I don and then write how I truly feel; how it exists in my head.

Maybe this is just my technique? I need to broom out the cobwebs before I can get to my real “shine.”

Despite my prior post “waking up panicked,” the cruise was fantastic. I made some very fast friends (who I lovingly referred to as my Homo Homies) the first night on the ship at the LGBTQ meet-up/mixer. They accompanied me on my misadventures and I on theirs. I did lose my shit in one of the ports because I had reached my limit in regards to noise and being bothered. What I learned is I am not a “Vacation Port Town” person. I wish I could be like my cruise companion Christian. He gave zero fucks. His casual existence was so refreshing. He just went with the flow. As much as I tried, I have a point of being “over” whatever we may have been in the midst of doing.

I told my brother when I got home that I was at least proud of myself for knowing this and removing myself before my new pals got to see the ugly side of me; the spoiled only child that WILL throw a fit when he’s had enough. I like to think that is growth. Unfortunately for those who have been permanently adopted into my inner circle, I do not offer that luxury. They get me at my ugliest. Sorry, gals.

I would absolutely do another solo cruise. It was fun being by myself. I didn’t have to worry about anyone else. Just me. My own fun. Not like I don’t already do that. I seem to surround myself with those who cater to my every whim. It’s weird. Without them I didn’t have the worry/anxiety that I get that they’re just agreeing with me because they don’t want to upset me or give me what I want. Y’know, to avoid seeing the side only they get the “pleasure” of witnessing?

My only real regret was not recognizing my “friendly personality.” I genuinely thought I wasn’t going to make any friends, so I signed up for my favorite writing competition. As a result… I ended up stressed about competing and completing my assignment. I shouldn’t have, but I can never say no to the chance of flexing my skills. I love writing. (Clearly… ) What I don’t love is that this wasn’t my best. It was done for the sake of “getting it done.” Which means that it didn’t get the attention it deserved. If I place in the Top 15 it’ll be a fucking miracle.

One of the port towns I want to go back to is Puerto Vallarta. I’d love to spend a week there in the “gayborhood.” However… with the way shit is going I might not be able to. God… I hate this fucking place.

November 14, 2024

It’s NaNoWriMo

Within the literary community, November is known as Nation Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo.) In the past I have participated and even wrote my first novel during the event back in 2009. I enjoyed the process so much I subsequently wrote two sequels to that same novel. One was ABSOLUTE GARBAGE which will NEVER see the light of day and the other was so good it is the actual sequel.

The way it works is starting November 1st a wannabe writer sits down and clacks out 1,667 words. The idea is not to think, but to just write. I remember reading on their “official” website that you’re suggested to not even go back and re-read what you had previously written, as to not deter yourself by your internal critic. Although I have not seen that since and I have looked. Regardless, I have stuck tight to that rule. It keeps one focused on the task at hand and not worrying about prose or content but moreso on getting the story out. They also suggested writing down EVERYTHING one can think of for the story. Anything superfluous can be cut during editing. Build the world and characters in the moment. Focus on that more than anything else. Plus, it then makes hitting the daily word total a breeze.

I thought about participating but… November is a hard month for me what with my husband’s and my anniversary on the 1st, my birthday, and all the other celebrations that tend to happen in the same month. Now, it’s even more difficult because in addition to my birthday at the very beginning of the month as is my boyfriends. This year we began the month in Seattle traveling and I didn’t really have the time. I also didn’t really have an idea to write about.

That all changed a week ago.

As I was driving to work a story popped into my head based on the passing of my husband. Since then the narrative has been rolling around in my brain building itself up into a fully formed shape. Now, I am thinking about starting halfway through the month on typing it out just to see where it goes… The first NaNoWriMo I did was loosely based on a break-up with a boyfriend. Just told from the perspective of my ex. It was insanely cathartic. Not to mention it was fucking good. I am so proud of how it turned out. Why not use that same energy to handle my grief?

November 7, 2024

Death and Destruction Await

My life has never been wonderful. On that same note it hasn’t been terrible either. I would call it balance. Any trials I have endured have only made me stronger. However… I am waiting for the moment that my only trials are “am I going to have enough time off for my vacation” as opposed to “are they going to round me up into a camp because I’m a degenerate?”

There was a brief moment at the beginning of 2019 where everything was looking up. I had finally passed my exam to get my license (after a 6 year journey) and I graduated with my AA from the community college Summa Cum Laude. Everything seemed so achievable. Then in July the world took a nasty fucking turn and all of it slipped through my fingers.

It began with the chaotic path my mother led us down. Her “kookiness” became more severe and we took her back to the neurologist who had previously claimed she was just “stressed.” The second effort produced her alzheimer’s diagnosis. The friday after my father fell, hit his head on the bathroom counter, and died. I had to figure out what to do with my mother who could very clearly not live on her own, and who INSISTED she would not live with me and my husband because we weren’t “christians” as she put it.

That august when my husband returned to teaching he was starting to show signs of his ALS. It would take an entire year, during a fucking pandemic, that would reveal his terminal diagnosis. So I was left to care for my dying husband and my mentally incapacitated mother, all during a fucking pandemic that could have been avoided if Trump hadn’t been such a giant piece of shit.

And here we are… in the face of all of this people voted for the convicted felon over the prosecutor. Voted for the man who has said repeatedly he would weaponize our government to suit his needs. For his own benefit. Yet… “when he was president things were affordable!” Jesus, people are fucking stupid.

Because of his win I have entered, what I lovingly refer to as, my villain era. I have gone through emotional hell, all on my own, only to watch my friends and family betray me for their own self interest. I genuinely hope he does everything, EVERYTHING he said he would. I want him to burn this fucking country to the ground. Make everyone suffer. Don’t hold back trumpy. Do it. Fuck them. I no longer care about my own self preservation. I eagerly await the christian nationalist hellscape he WILL create. Because at the end, I’m fucked regardless. Might as well enjoy some popcorn before the entire theater burns to the ground.

I will have zero, ZERO empathy for anyone. And the moment one fucking person says “I didn’t know” I’m going to shove them to the fucking ground and say, “yes, you goddamn did. Because I fucking tried to tell you. Everyone did. But you were just too fucking selfish to think of the bigger picture.”

In the face of all of this turmoil and sadness throughout the last 5 years of my life, I have found the peace to accept and welcome death. My expiration may or may not be dictated in the stars, but I like to think that it is. Through all my soul searching to comprehend all of this chaos has brought me to the belief of reincarnation and that everything is genuinely happening all at once. There is no such thing as time, just the prism in our mind that refracts and reflects it into a single finite moment. So, as I am typing this I believe I have been born and have passed. And ultimately, the world will go on without me. I was such an insignificant part of the overall tapestry of existence, but knowing that means I can be and do whatever I want. Whatever brings me joy.

My final thought on life is that, we are here to find understanding to the human condition. To comprehend life and it’s static fragility.

Everything I have loved has been taken from me (apart from the BF) and I’m still here. Life goes on…