Thursday, September 22, 2005


It seems whenever I think I've got it all figured out, something happens to hose it all up. Not always something eventful, but some thing, none the less, intrudes on my fragile sense of peace.

When life seems its' tamest, subjective reality takes over. Today's a good example. Am I happy or content? No, but what else is new? Anyways, it was quiet and there were no serious waves.

This is where I work and spend most of my waking hours. I eat 2 of 3 daily meals here. I've lived in the office and slept in the nurse's office. I guess I find it humorous that, from a satellite, it looks like a digestive system.

The biggest concern on my mind of late is whether the next hurricane (Rita?) is gonna hit Galveston. I don't live for apocalyptic disaster, but with their frequency of late, they seem like the events to worry over. Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown died in New Orleans just a few days after being fetched from the flooding stench.

The bible exhorts us not to fret and also to keep our tongues from evil. Psalm 92 says not to... "be afraid of terrors by night or the arrows that fly by day..."This is Beverly Hills from 3800 ft. Nitsa lives around here somewhere. From 3800 ft. (and from knowledge) all I can tell is that the sun shines there a lot. Whether it's a happy place or not is a mystery to me.

I don't know exactly what I'm getting at, but something's trying to chew off what little bit of butt I've got left. I feel lost in a world that thrives on certainty and all I feel certain of is how lost I feel.

In the past, the lost feeling would make me depressed, but now it's my best friend. Go figure.

Get your duckies in a row and just keep plodding along. It's comfortable because it's what I know, but it doesn't make it any better. It just makes it familiar. Quiet desperation is that way I guess. Once you get past the anxiety, it's tolerably easier.

This is near where Chester lives. It's cloudy right now. I know. I lived near there for years. The clouds are what makes for an extremely gloomy image, even from space (approximately 4700 ft.).

Witty comments and sarcastic banter don't always cut it. I've learned of late how to shut up and listen. It's a stretch, but I think I'm getting better at it. It's always easier to snap and rant and rave. But when your raving goes nowhere, it's just a lot of wasted air.

"God night, sweet prince, and flights of angels send thee to thy rest."

-Bill Speare. Last line of Hamlet

In Viktor Frankl's "Man's Search for Meaning," the Viennese psychiatrist writes how he not only survived the Nazi death camps, but he observed how happiness is a conscious choice. You can strip away a man's possessions and clothing and even his life, but in the end a man will always have the ability to choose in his mind how he will react to a situation. Freedom of thought can never be taken away.
Yeah, Vic knew what he was talking about... "The meaning of our existence is not invented by ourselves, but rather detected."
Frankl also asked: "Are you worthy of your suffering."
That's like asking "Am I fit to sing the blues?"
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