spoke-n-languish

[spoke-n-languish]

Astra inclinant, sed non obligant. Discendo discimus.

I really have no way of knowing what anyone thinks of me or what they want from me… because not one person will speak honestly with me. I appreciate all of the work developing storylines and the myriad paths forward that you have presented for me to “Leap of Faith” down, but despite it all… it strikes me that still (despite all my mad rankings to the walls of this shithole prison that saddens and crushes me just for being present within it. But has it occurred to any of you “viewers” that I can’t (repeat for emphasis: CANNOT) do what you want me to and what I desperately desire to within the circumstances that you have put me in. It is not a preference choice like, “I have an allergy to cooked carrots… no, raw is fine - I’m only allergic to the cooked ones.” Clearly, made-up bullshit that we abide because we understand that (for whatever reason) they simply do not care for that option. What I have been trying to tell anyone but no one has heard, is that I cannot “take the plunge”, without some, any, maybe even just one tiny element of truth. This may sound petulant, or whiny to some, others I have heard say, “just look it up…everything is online if you would just try to look for yourself instead of having it spoon-fed to you like a baby.” This is not my issue… Because, as stated before, early on I detected that elements of data I perceived and currently try to filter through (with no other option) have been doctored, altered or just flat out fabricated, I have not been able to find any medium that was true. To add further clarification to the depth of illusion detected by the manipulations i toil under, let me list some of the mediums I am considering to be within this Decepti-Confidence Scam Set of things I currently hold to be untrustworthy (note: for me untrustworthy = not true, not real):

* Anything found online (including from social media sites, wiki or encyclopedia pages, medical journals, digital communication of any kind such as text or email)

* Anything heard or seen on the television (as this is another digital medium it also has proven to be quite malleable as a source of information)

* Phone conversations from unfamiliar voices (as without familiarity it is more difficult for me to qualify truths vs. falsehoods).

* Conversations overheard (typically intentionally) in passing.

* Conversations from familiar voices (sadly, every person I have spoken with has also been detected as being dishonest with me).

********************************************

Nimium ne crede colori.

*I feel this requires some more insight into my meaning. Yes, everyone, everywhere, lies all the time… that is inherent in the nature of communication as we all filter input through our belief systems so that any and all output is skewed from the Greater Truth which exists without perception only and in such fashion cannot exist. Also, I am not talking about all of the “little white lies” that exist to prevent shame, guilt, fear or pain - for others as well as ourselves. I am not referring to any stretching of truths about activities or events outside of those which are intended to influence my personal information (and therefore choices and actions). Yes, I have noted it in every single person I have talked to, sometimes subtle otherwise very brash and direct attempts to perpetuate this miasma of gas-lighting that permeates fully into every aspect of my life. It is intentional or at least cooperative psychological manipulation with the intention to control via filtration, alteration and inception the information that I receive as well as what I am able to send forth out into the community at large (such as it is). It is this factor I believe which has so deeply wounded my mental state as well as the very constitution of my sanity. What’s more I have also noticed the effective feedback derived from an assumption that I have been successfully misled whenever I delve at any level into exploring any of these presented misdirections… the ripples of which, increase in amplitude with each exploration with a palpable fervor of glee or excitement at “he’s falling for it”, or “we got him again”. What some may not realize is that in my dogmatic pursuit to unravel this knitted cocoon of deceits, imperfect truths and outright lies, that has snared me and binds me into the clichéd tangled web where I still struggle trying to free myself before I feel the dooming venom piercing into me. The toxic regret of living less than what could have been… should have been mine, if I’d only looked deeper, probed more fervently, or just blindly stumbled onto by happenstance. But as has been clearly understood by me ever since realization of the extent of influence being exerted upon me, as you control all data I receive, if you want it found it will be found… if you don’t, it won’t. So I will continue to struggle, I know not how to give up, but I do so with the knowledge of the futility of my actions as the results are not dependent on the measure of effort exerted so much as your assessment of whether or not I am ready for or worthy of receiving it.

********************************************

* Also to be included, all sights seen, sounds heard, scents smelled (and hence flavors tasted), sensations felt and all other physical perceptions have been (some more constantly than others) proven fallible under your machinations.

Claudus pedibus et iniquitatem bibens qui mittit verba per nuntium stultu.

The culminating magnitude of this doubt upon my already battle-worn and weary psyche, coupled with the riddle of Y intersects at an unfortunate exact point where my craZy honor rebels against tyrannical injustice or oppression (or even well-intended misunderstanding without shared communal eXpression) to where I predict the results to be worse for all, or at least all the worst for one in particular. Whether your intentions are to be my Mjolnir, or if you sit silently on high as an overlord surveying his vassals, I constantly hope that your scales of qualification are Balanced and Just… else I expect from here on naught but doom and ruin to oblivion.

Condemnant quo non intellegunt. Ingredior in meus calceus quod cos mos agnosco. Pars magna bonitatis est velle fieri bonum. Si vis amari, ama. Semper ubi, sub ubi.

#InVeritateVitaEst #LifeIsPain #impossibledream #knurdninja #riddle211 #sharpen_saw #turn-the-page-h6ε #nothingelsematters

[spoke-n-languish]

My Heart’s Very Desire Torn Away Page-by-Page

PLIK. TING. I can see each dream-vision, each option as a potential timeline radiating outward like spokes, but as more and more time passes they break free of the central hub (me in current state) and drift off like so many luft balloons then vanish into oblivion - except that their memory still exists within me as sadness memorials of regret… more wasted potential and lost opportunities. But I have been shackled here where I am and am not able to travel down any paths no matter how much I want to. CVUUF. GHEEJ. So I hold onto each thread as tightly as I can and try to prevent them from slipping away although all can see the inevitable loss as they are only intended as temporal windows to slip away out of this bleak hovel of decay into the night and the invigorating air of the unknowns chance and growth. KYANT. TCUP. Wistfully I strain to resist their being pulled out of my grasp but it is in futility. I do not fear these roads… I love and cherish them. I yearn for them. But I am unable to go. Whether you can see or understand why I am not, or whether you agree with my reasons or not means nothing to me, as I mean to you. QYUG. VYYM. VROC. By not allowing me a chance to explain, or by not understanding who I am and what makes me so, nor why I do or have done what I do, you have made me a clockwork-orangutan to grind the organ for everyone’s entertainment (and also your financial gain) while devastatedly watching all of my beautiful dreams of happiness pulled away one-by-one with the persistent inevitability of erosion as waves of time wash against the shores of my soul. ENKE. NEEASH. My heartstrings snap as each life’s thread is wrenched from my grip. Tears stream down me for another lost potential Heaven (for all those within that version), but kinectically frozen in place I remain. I can not successfully move forward (on any path) anymore than I would by sawing my own neck off to be free of this chain that has collared and contained. Does it really matter if you know why it is there or agree with it being there? Not to me, it doesn’t. TWOOK. TAACHT. Soon I will not have any dreams left and I will be left holding nothing… clipped to this unwanted, desolate backyard, cold and abandoned will become the only path forward. But, forever, will I be haunted by these visions (idyllic fantasies, perhaps… but either way…) knowing that they might have been possible once - but no longer, the new designated path leads to drudgery & toil until eventual collapse into a now welcome oblivion of my own. CHUUP. FFUUT. Each possibility of all dreamt paradises going for one impurely and unwarranted inconceivably remains Ill-gotten, unforgiven & foresaken —hated and misunderstood for a lifetime to a lifetime of the same, for all time. I guess we all have our part to play in this blumanatic-farcidy up on the world stage: I thought I had found one who understood me and might release me from this tortured cycling. But, here I go.

#impossibledream #usemyvoice #truth=freedom #chained2past #OrangeYouGladItsNotYou #everything #everywhere #allthetime #allisee

[spoke-n-languish]

Id est quod id est.

Why does it always feel like no one is listening, or if they are - they don’t understand me or my values. Am I truly that obscure or obtuse that I have not one to commune with?

My other point to make at this time is how wearisome it has become listening to everybody’s attempts at “Normalizing” what in truth is some seriously out of the ordinary and F*•#ed-up shit. I have never, in all of the stories or histories I have read, nor in any crazy dreams ever… EVER, heard of anything even remotely similar to the fates-crossed, unfortunate sequence of events as to what I have found myself repeatedly beset upon by. So please, please… stop telling me that it’s all fairly standard, easily explainable, commonplace happenstance, or whatever other colloquial quotidian brush-off you would use to either cover-up your refusal to see or your covert attempts to “brush under the carpet” the ultra-super-para-absolutely not even remotely-normal events of my life.

That being said, I would love to discuss more in detail, but as I’ve discovered… I am unable to relinquish more detailed insight as such only causes more to be stripped away from my steadily more and more spartan life. I fear that some of my knowledge could be damaging to certain groups whom I do not wish to harm… I only hope that they find private manner to contact me. However, it would appear through the libel and slander that the intent is not towards solidarity or absolution, but rather in trying to gas-light me into accepting blame for the fallout and collateral damage what has been wrought; or if not, then to socially ostracize and besmirch my character such as to where it no longer matters what I do or say as it will be received with the same gravitas accorded to the mad-ravings of a lunatic and unbalanced heathen who should be sequestered away for the safety of the general goodliness of society at large. To whit I cannot help but point out that if you had only been willing to believe me from the onset, such losses would have been avoided anyway. But to now, you are positioned to continue ignoring that which has become more and more abundantly apparent in order to maintain your plausible degrees of deniability. Sadly, there are still some who believe that their machinations are the only cogs being turned here. Invariably, it appears that due to my reticence to harm those who share not a similar mindset, the events shall most likely grind-through in the fashion I have above foretold with the only ‘meal’ revealed to be my own. It is what it is…

#impossibledream #riddle211 #omnia•interroga #nothingelsematters #Y

[spoke-n-languish]

A hero’s journey…

…into town, to get some eggs and a carton of milk, and then back again to his abode to stow them safely in his refrigerator: mission accomplished.

I know that I’ve fucked this up for everybody, and I truly am sorry. It has become abundantly clear that the script was never intended to carry on this long. I have disappointed many people over the years, but never an entire community at once in addition to everyone that I love and care about. Even people that never liked me and were certain I would fail have become taciturn at the onus that maintaining this production has assayed on their erstwhile quotidian rut. I don’t think that the blame should fall entirely onto my shoulders as I never asked for this nor have I yet quit trying (I really just don’t know what to do), but as nobody has materialized from Narnia, or the Æther, or the shadow lands of Nod, or wherever it is that you have secreted yourselves away to, for everyone else affected - mine is the only face they can see to scowl at.

Initially I was consumed with grief and broken by betrayal… but I got better and formulated a plan (which I thought had reasonable odds of success), but then I discovered that the belaborments and woeful outcries of my ravaged heart and shattered soul had successfully provided more than adequate distraction to allow me to fall prey to an extraordinarily elaborate mash-up of the 3-card Moanaté Badger Game with a HoneyPotter Pig-in-a-Poke overshadowing a “South Park” Oculus Rift-‘Van Winkle’, all neatly tucked into one Dickens of “A Stargate Christmas Carol: Special Victims Unit” all for “A Fistful of Dollars” with the Spanish Prisoner left at the altar of ‘Affinity’. Needless to say. I did not pick the “lucky lady” out of the tertiantella Danse Machiavellian that I found mysclf all aswirl 1N. (In fact, I’m certain even this does not adequately enunciate the subtle variegated nuances, and delicately layered (as if a master baker’s baklava or tiramisu) and nimbly interwoven puppeteering of this magna opera which I praise optime cum laude!

But as fun as it is to masquerade and I can only imagine the rush of being included in the conspiratorial hoodwinking with a wink and a Nod to your Corner then Bow to your Beau, then Dosey-Do and Around we go; Promenate in the Gutter with a Beaver-Fur Cap, now 2 x 2 Through the Gate with the Clap; From our Cueric ETSRDA you’ll take your Cues, Tea Cup Chain or Chain-Gang Thru; Swing your Hoe-Down she’s an Arky Belle then Top the Coffee Kitty like a Faux Angel; Sashay the Phantom in the Swill; Yellow Rock, Red Rock, and the Star-Tips the Frill!

All quite synchronized and very exciting to be a part of, but you can only square dance for so long before it becomes wearying and eventually (despite the fervor of the foile �� d’ville) being told exactly where, when, and what to do next at each ‘turn’ by the gent caller can lose a little luster. One may desire a return to a more familiar and comfortably secure routine, and so is the ambient temperature around the town. Certainly not a soul has betrayed the confidence of the games-master(s), and all facades have been dutifully maintained… all roles unequivocally performed, but to a trained eye (or to a wildly moonstruck third), the heart-force driving it isn’t as strong as it was in the onset.

I do not want anyone to misconstrue this very key point I am about to make here: I in no way, shape or form am belittling or diminishing in any way the communally singular and titanic efforts wrought by the amazingly generous, patient and hard-working people of this community as much to the contrary, I am awe-struck by how much you all have done and magnificently so… it is one of the reasons I am sometimes brought literally to tears being moved so by graces demonstrated by all for just one who has never been deserving of any of it and I know that I will never be able to repay this. I understand that many of you see these forays as a lesson to my laxitudinal nonchalance towards arrearages owed (which is understandable as that is how this particular backdrop has been painted), but that debt I was always aware of and it grew out of hand by my own decisions for it to do so… but the debt that has me hammered into place is the debt of kindness and gratitude I now owe to each and every one of you which I can devote a hundred lifetimes over and still not repay in full.

But, what I believe I am understanding in an emotional undercurrent sort of way, is the fatigue from attrition of performing at such a high demand for perfection for longer than was originally written in the playbill. And for this, I believe I do shoulder the yoke of responsibility. Not intentionally but rather by default as I too have been kept at a philharmonic emotional symphony and just beaten to and fro on a mental and spiritual level that I fear I missed key opportunities and just through the blindness of the damned did not see when I was to have performed my role, played my part, and delivered the quintessential metamorphosis and rebirth to deliver us all from this eternal winter. I am so sorry to everyone. You have all worked so diligently for so long and so hard for this and I wish that I could do that one thing required of me and provide that release everyone is so ready for… but I still don’t know what it is. I surely must have missed a critical clue or tip as I know it must have been given but I’m afraid I’m my distraught state I passed it or did not hear it correctly. You must all be tired of having to carry on for one who can’t even carry his own weight it would seem and I cannot blame you or fault you if you do. All I can offer is to redouble my efforts (which I believe I have said so much now that surely I am at a least 256x my original efforts) …which should put me somewhere around 176.64x full effort given {sorry, just a little math humor}. But if you don’t see me out and about and getting in the way, please understand that I am still trying, still doing what I can to solve this… for everyone’s sake.

I have been manipulated more so than anyone through these productions, but I am still determined as ever to bring this to a close regardless of personal cost because I cannot allow any of you to suffer excess burden any more than you already have for my expense. If you don’t know me yet, just please understand that while it may not seem like it, I really do sincerely want the best for everyone and humbly I thank you all for what you have already persevered on my behalf.

La storia di un burattino… for reals, yo!

#sharpen_saw #impossibledream #nothingelsematters #riddle211 #hortonhasthewh’ooze #Y #turn-the-page-h6ε

[spoke-n-languish]

Please advise…

How many pennies weigh 217 pounds?

Xe-Na? XG, my twin, Blackburn??

Stacy O**m??? Sta-Cee = Cee-Sta

In a lifetime of hurt, I was happy.

I had a time that made it all worthwhile. Smashed, snatched and plundered. But, I thought, if I stayed true to my heart, did the right thing, and honored its memory, I could keep a small memento of that to carry me through the rest of this endless maelstrom of glass shards and tears shitstorm you call life.

Now the thing I have held onto as my last lifeline in the Abyss reveals itself as the delightful trope “ the rope your hanging yourself with is a python”.

I have made the wrong choices in my past so many times… I was trying so hard to do the right thing (even if it wasn’t the best for me). I just wanted to have that - to have done it right for once… and now the one thing I had is gone, and I can never have it, even wanting it is wrong, remembering the brief period of happiness it created is wrong and just having had it has been turned into a mockery for all to judge and ridicule.

Last round pick of the litter-box

Every group of things has different qualities represented by the things. But not every quality deserves representation. This is why you always have a “grumpy” or “the grouch”, there’ll be a “happy” or “friendly” or “charming”, even “daring” or “wicked get there turn… but nobody is going to dress up for Halloween as “lazy, incestuous, addict - Skidrow Smurf” or “socially-distant, and insane Apocalyptic-Plague-Bear”. So why is it that out of all the choices available, the ones that are given to me are my least favorite options?

Aquaman ~ Hulk = \S/Sulq’y (in fishnet stockings?) Me SPliSH-SPlASH puny merman

yellow/orange clockwork-steam-punk?

iOSCK-Man’s stinky, pinky, clunky pooh…

I can’t wait to buy some of the new “Impotent-Rapist Spork & Friends” action-dolls that are coming out.

All of my dreams have been tarnished into the worst versions of anything I ever could have wished for and I can’t stop it or turn it off…

My fantasy epic metal monster love ballad doesn’t sound the same through a faintly septic mental horror slave ball-gag and instead maybe I should just dedicate my life soundtrack as an “synchronic sirens, off-key whistles and horns, clamorings of the traffic jamboree & a cacophony of broken cuckoo clockwork’s grinding gears subtly layered with a high-pitched ringing tintintabulating tinnitus whined-chime incessantly tuning your tiniest bones in a dulcet vibrato of the jøzzbelles’ - on a mixed cassette tape” perfect for meditation or to go to sleep to.

#impossibledream #riddle211

[spoke-n-languish]

…with rays of light’s glittery streamers in your hair.

Even now, I secretly hope that I will turn the corner and you will be standing there arms open for an embrace. Whenever I am out and walking down the trails around town, each time I come upon one of those “secret” glades or one of those perfect little dead-end “tryst” nooks, I always offer a quick prayer that when I enter it will be a happy reunion with you there waiting to surprise me… no words necessary, just our eyes locking gaze with a communal look of understanding, a step or two to bridge the gap, and then we are together again and you can palpably feel all off the worry and sadness and anxieties just evaporating: dissolving and draining back out of the body as it fills itself back up with a comfortable serenity instead.

#Y #ALWAYS #Ihopeyoustilllovemetoo

[spoke-n-languish]

I would also like to say for he record that I have always admired the polite and open nature in which I felt you engaged any and every time we spoke, B3223tt (even when, through no fault of your own, you thought my name was Nick).

#thxCrispy

[spoke-n-languish]

Is there any chance that we could drop this whole facade and just discuss things in an open and honest forum like civilized adults? Or is it really that important that the game is played to completion… if so I’ll continue to play my part. What were we racing or something, but you had tied my shoelaces together first? I feel like I’m in that old cartoon the Wacky Races. I don’t know if I ever saw Muttley win?

I’ll figure out how t get down there then. But know that you have not conquered me nor altered my core views in any way and the only reason that I acquiesce is because I do not want anyone to get hurt unnecessarily ever. I am a promoter of peace and reconciliation always!

#letyourfreakylightshinewhocares

[spoke-n-languish]

Alignment: Quixotic Good

Super!! Another spoonful of people I don’t recognize in places I’ve never been speaking languages I don’t understand… no you’re right — that clears everything up perfectly. How could I possibly be so ingracious.

I am well aware that even though I cannot answer the question, “What has happened to me, or ?”, I can say for certain that it took more people than just 424574514 (I will continue using this name as I do not know how else to refer to her). As amazing and gifted as she is, that is, or at least should be, understood. So, when I am begging for the truth of what has happened to me, I am looking broadly at the community as well as focusing in on my so-called friends, family and loved ones for answers… not just 424574514. I get that nobody expected me to fall so wholly and probably foolishly in love, but who in the history of mankind has ever understood how love works? And, I assume that there is a vast majority that does not understand why I can’t just let it go or move on… if it were a normal break up, yes. I would have by now.

I believe somewhere around the end of October or beginning of November I myself thought I was going in that direction… this is not to say that I have in any way changed my heart’s proposed intentions or reversed my position in any form. It is possible that only one person understands why I adamantly refuse to soften in this regard, and even she most likely did not foresee this outcome as much as I’m certain that at least initially there was a tumultuous emotional uncertainty of how to best handle the unusual nature of my decision. After all, who in their right mind would insist on pursuing a chaste life of celibacy to maintain a love unrequited and reduced to long-distance friend-zone while it has already long since been established that the object of affection was not only a pawn in an elaborate confidence scheme, but also a key component of the penultimate betrayal at the anticlimax… most likely only me, and only for you (see rule #1). But to clarify this conundrum for the rest of you. I promised to the woman I love who was never in her life prior shown the true meaning of unconditional love that she would feel it and know its power. This is how I believed when I swore it and so I shall hold until proven to the contrary by the one to whom I am beholden. Rule 1 is simple, but more beautiful by its simplicity. It states, “I love you, this will not change.” That is why I am bound by honor to stoically weather all attempts to tempt or convince or persuade me astray, and because it is unconditional, any and all wrongs are immediately forgiven. That is also partly why I have fallen prey to being triggered over and over and why I do not seem to be learning lessons as others may have hoped. Is it fool-hearty of me? - most likely, will it change? - no. But I know that there is a select cadre that knows that there are other reasons why I have been shackled thus without being able to rejuvenate or progress Their umbral machinations have made certain that I be quite successfully rooted as mired. I also believe that outside of this select private council the greater group as well as the community at large do not know the actual cause of my physical health issues nor why I was not working… instead this collection outside of the elite have been successfully gaslit (it would seem more successfully than I myself was) into believing the skewed version of the story as the select few would have it be known. This not only serves to further the objective of reinforcing the defamation of my character while polishing the hell out of that turd for you, but also in protecting you from any backlash for your deceptive subterfuges if not fully nefarious and malicious actions. So again, I beseech you — all of you, if any would be so kind as to share with me truths, for these are the keys which could set me free. And my love and my light my heart is yours. I only ask that you look within yourself. If your heart is of like intent: I will wait for you until I die. If your love has affectations for another than I shall be your most loyal friend to whatever degree you two deem appropriate. But if neither of these are things you desire, please offer a kindness and forgive this man for his old-fashioned chivalric notions and ways… if you have no intention or desire of reuniting in any way then I pray that you (as you are the only one who can) will see fit to release me from my vow. But outside of this, pray tell my lady in what fashion may I be yours?

#knurdninja #impossibledream #sharpen_saw #riddle211 #nothingelsematters #omnia•interroga #£y6!7*736uv #hashope’nhersoul #turn-the-page-h6ε #always #URY

[spoke-n-languish]

Goonie Ya Gonna Call???

For the record, I know it may seem like I am not keeping up (or at least that is how t feels to me), but please keep in mind that regardless of what everyone else may know - I’m operating on what amounts to 5 months of being ostracized and just blind-faith believing in my own guesses through a period of the lowest mental state of my entire life. There’s still a rather persistent and out-spoken voice inside that keeps shouting over the others to tell me I’m just crazy and delusional… so there’s that.

🤔 I have to admit: due to most of my supporting evidence consisting of and screen-shots of strangers’ social media pages, or blurry pictures of quotidian town elements taken while walking through peoples’ yards at night, he does present a rather compelling argument.

It’s just a good thing that I almost never follow anybody’s advice {including my own}.

#impossibledream #sharpen_saw #riddle211 #hortonhasthewh’ooze #nothingelsematters #omnia•interroga #OhYeah! #SpaceLiger

[spoke-n-languish]

There’s a Monster at the Bottom of this Swamp

In one of the happy little nooks hidden deep inside my feelings-hole, I still nurture warm, cute & fuzzy cherished memories of when I was just a young child, my mother reading stories with me. One of our favorites (or, mine at least, your patience duly noted, Momp!) was a Sesame Street book called “There’s a Monster at the End of This Book!” featuring one luvable, cute and cuddly blue-furry friend, Grover. If you’re not familiar with the story, the premise is that Grover is becomes terrified of the impending monster after reading the title, and then devoted himself to trying to prevent you, the reader, from turning pages thereby bringing ever-closer the encroaching doom. So he tries tying the pages down, boarding them down with nails, bricking them up a la Edgar Allen Poe’s “The Cask of Amontillado”, et cetera… only to be thwarted time and again as I, filled with the cherub-like glee and effervescence that only the true innocence of youth can muster, would barely be able to wait for mom to finish reading the pages before joyfully giggling would foil whatever fortifications the fearful muppet had constructed and flip the page to hear his lamentations on the following page — something along the lines of, “Don’t turn it, nooooo… Did you know you are very strong?” ~~~~~ Spoiler alert~~~~~ (To everyone’s relief, Grover’s most of all, the penultimate titular monster at the end is revealed to be none other than Grover himself, phew, “…and you were so scared!”) How I delighted, turning those pages the flapping them over as quickly and as forcefully as i was allowed in good prudence. (Again, a heartfelt thank you is owed for your love and patience, Mom!!) But, the memory has taken a bit more of a bittersweet taste of late as I reflect on my current state of affairs, by which of course I refer to this latest salvo of crisis I find myself trying to survive the navigation of. {Pardon me here as I segue tangentially into another metaphor as is my preferred wont, but I do promise to circle back around by the end.}

I think it was Stephen Covey who described crisis management as trying to paddle a leaking raft through a swamp full of hungry alligators. You can avail yourself with great purpose toward bailing water out of the boat to keep from sinking. You can use the oars to swat at the threatening gators and keep them at bay. But, unless you designate some of your time and energy into putting those oars in the water and paddling, you will never survive let alone make it back to shore and safety. This is how I have lived most of my adult life, except I feel like in addition to these distresses, my raft bears a lower birth in the water because in addition to myself, I am trying to ferry my loved ones safely across and so bear the (admittedly self-imposed) responsibility of ensuring their protection and (because I do love to challenge myself) happiness as we drift across. So, I find myself singing an uplifting tune to keep moral up, allowing any who would prefer to climb up onto my shoulders to remain dry while using one hand to bail water, one hand to fend off gators, and the other hand frantically trying to row. Okay, so I’m not sure how that math checks out, but it explains why I feel exhausted all the time. For the record, I have not lost anyone to alligators nor drowning. But, I have not yet made it out of this bleak morass either, and (un)fortunately (depending on perspective) I have l allowed passing boats to extricate my passengers — I told my conscience that it was better this way. They would have better and safer odds, and it seemed this would lighten my burden thereby making my struggle less and increasing my own chances as well. But the loss of their moving on not only lightened the raft but also served to displace the fervor with which I had been keeping occupied. It is difficult to muster my (fifty-) second wind. Now I feel heavier and move more slowly as apparently my spirit took flight with my charges. It almost seems like I no longer have a reason to continue the struggle (which is how I have come to view what others refer to as life). It is the way I have always been… I will fight like a honey badger with no care for fatigue or injury to protect those I love, but when it comes to myself, I have a harder fight just mustering the will to defend myself. I cannot express adequately how deeply I yearn - how the wanting aches throughout my body for this chapter to be over. It is the counterpoint yin to that bubbly yang I felt as a child, but the desire is the same. All I seek now is to turn the page; to finally put this most arduous chapter behind me and progress to the next act of my life… hopefully one with fewer catastrophes. One where I may find a chance to put my feet once more upon solid ground and catch my breath. This is my new hope. {See, I told you I would pull it back around for the tie-in!}

~ and as for the swamp, I never quit… so I guess I’ll walk out if I have to!

#impossibledream #sharpen_saw #riddle211 #hortonhasthewh’ooze #nothingelsematters #£y6!7*736uv #turn-the-page-h6ε #Y #Always

[spoke-n-languish]

Power Without Perception

It’s super cool of everyone to want to pitch in and help. For my whole life it seems (and wherever I’ve been), I felt that I could always look around and see that strong bond of community… of togetherness. It is quite wholesome to witness. I suppose, like so many things in life, it also depends on your vantage point. Perspective does not add detail, it adds depth. So if, for instance one were to be inside of a building, they would not be able to fully appreciate the architecture of its silhouette against the skyline. But from where I stand, it is readily apparent just how deeply you all care about each other. A strong unity woven together with the spirit of kindred threads into a beautiful tapestry of love. I thank you for artfully sharing with me how each yarn, although relatively fragile on its own, can be bolstered when tightly supported within the strength of the milieu. Here I stand awed by the majesty of what I am perceiving, and thankful to be allowed to bear witness.

#to_your_vantage_point #unawareLupus #LostNspaceTiger #ForYouPariah #FotNS #CanCyourGildedSkyline #I14cLitTorPony #Y #He-Darkhorse

[spoke-n-languish]

All Ways Lead To Amoré

I’m so confused all the time these days it seems, and always teetering off-balance on the brink of the Lake of Tears. I never seem to know what to do. Now, when I try to tune-in and see if I can divine direction, all I receive is a fierce pain that stabs deeply into my forehead… and above and beyond that, and in addition to the aching I’ve grown accustomed to these last six years or so, also on top of the pangs, fatigue and anxiety of detoxing, my brain has presented a new anguish to add to my personal siege on my own psyche - a new reagent to spice-up the suffering a touch.

If this ever does culminate by noble Chance into a happy ending, by which I mean that if this Hell ever abates and releases me from its frost-rimed grip in which I am held frozen, I will be scarred with a bittersweet knowledge branded on my heart. The depth of how accurately and comprehensively you understand almost every aspect of my intrinsic character has me awe-struck in the beauty of its love. But as much as that love fills me and embraces me in a glowing halo of warm serenity, I am saddened in knowing that I do not (and may never be able to) offer that same depth of appreciation to you. I don’t even know who you are anymore. It seems like there are hundreds of you. We used to laugh and rage at the unfairness whenever you dyed your hair and it would seem that the community at large would soon follow suit to match. But now I search for you in a sea of Waldo-pplegangers. I don’t know if the hollow of sorrow within me is projecting your image as if my own Tootsie Pop superbly imposing into my view, or if it is because my mind’s fracturing from the chaos of this maddening quest unrequited has made it so that shards of your rainbow scattered and broadcast about like Johnny’s apple seeds are all that is left for me to find. But irregardless, I don’t know that if I will respond appropriately or even recognize you when you do present to my eyes blinded by looking to long for light in the inky pitch black of nothingness. So, if you see me, please forgive any inappropriate response. I may not see you clearly, or I may assume I am only looking at another mirage in my thirsty sight. What I am hoping for, fearing my own failure, is that you will come to me grab me to snap my focus to full attention, and plant a long-overdue passionate smooch on me. In this way I will know it truly is you, and I will embrace you back and never let go again.

~ unaware 41oneWolf on the prowl

#impossibledream #knurdninja #riddle211 #sharpen_saw #Y #£y6!7*736uv #nothingelsematters #turn-the-page-h6ε #41oneWolf

[spoke-n-languish]

😸Somekitty’s looking to be down to 8!!😼

* 1/20/23•22:23

OMG — I have to share this with somebody, but I don’t have anybody to tell… I was just feeding my cat, so bent over and pouring the scoop of food into his cat dish, when he nonchalantly strolls underneath me to get in the way. Total cat thing to do, but as he does this his tail goes in my eye. Im not saying it slapped against my cheekbone, or knocked against my eyelid… I mean that slowly and ever so gently the tip of his tail caressed my eyeball so that I could feel individual hairs. It is the most immediately insanely itchy experience I have ever had with my eyeball. I think that he may have shed like 76 hairs into my eye as he did this, and it was hard to tell for sure because of the insta-inflammation, but I’m pretty sure I got one of those over the shoulder look-backs with a wink. (Now typically this is typically one of my favorite sexy looks to receive which is just insult added on top, as he is a neutered tom and there was nothing sexy about the whole incident especially when you consider all the crying and weeping that was taking place.) He then turned his back to ignore me and eat while I sat and wept and tried to focus all of my energy on not touching/rubbing my eye. I am pretty sure that he had planned every step of that execution in advance. Cats can be such delightfully malicious assholes from time to time!

——————————————————————

——————————————————————

#Y #hortonhasthewh’ooze #itawtitwasgonnatwallopapuddytat

[spoke-n-languish]

I know this is going to end up well (actually it will most likely not even be noticed by anyone, but in response to the guilt I will feel in roughly 1.5 hours I will end up projecting my own insecurities into everyone else’s words and then feel subjectively trolled by the world), but just ignite a response backlash for fun, what the hey?

I’m tired of being everyone’s whipping boy. I am exhausted from being the one that everyone can call a fat, lazy, angry, egocentric, dead-beat, smug, lame, drunk, frigid, ugly, nerdy, apathetic, (fill __1n__ the blank loser who thinks he is so perfect. Also weary from being told that I don’t do enough for or care about anybody but myself. While these adjectives are true i that at some point in my life I am certain that there was probably a time for each to be applicable. But I am also equally certain that this same logic holds true for everyone besides me as well. Guess what, we are all assholes, but it is not considered proper etiquette to say so. So politely I shall withdraw and refrain from saying things that are not nice, instead I will endeavor to practice the old adage and not say anything at all. No promises, but we’ll see how it goes.

#knurdninja #impossibledream #riddle211 #hortonhasthewh’ooze #nothingelsematters #£y6!7*736uv #turn-the-page-h6ε #sharpen_saw #Y #omnia•interroga

[spoke-n-languish]

Should I be following-up less on my boundless hope and instead be using my 6NS more? I did not find what I wanted too, but it was still an evening to discover more silly leads. Perhaps I need to go home now and try writing some of this down at my desk.

#sharpen_saw #impossibledream #nothingelsematters

[spoke-n-languish]

I would do anything and everything I could, I just don’t know what to do, I’m so sorry.