Relaxin’
Cosmos found new friends at Camp. Sasha, Riggs, Gracie, Sandy, Pepper, even PEARL OMG!!! They all get along just great. Sandy n Coz were bestest buds: wrastlin’ n woofin’ all yesterday eve, and Coz slept like the dead last night.
Dio slept much easier too. A little anxiety much relieved: not that I expected discontent amongst the four-feets, only the unknown factors of it all.
Another day here at camp, always the early riser, Coz concurs that early starts are best, time for the Coffay. More laters
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The Seeker
Seriously hitting a rough spot this week,,, Little patience for ‘teh stoopid’ that surrounds the workplace. Not the jobs; any work is good, but there are times,,,,
And Cosmos,,,, Dammit, I don’t wanna give up on him, he’s just a pupper,, maybe 22 weeks old, give or take,,, BUT, Yah,, I’m frustrated over the whole new dawgum, old kats mexican stand-off. I wouldn’t be so frustrated if it weren’t for Zoomies issues. I like the big lunk, and he used to love Voodoo,,,
Little getaway this weekend. Usual crew at the park, camping in the rain, other dawgums to socialize with, so I am taking Cozzie with. Give the kittehs a mental break for a couple nights. I need the mental break too. Not sure how I am going to keep Cozz in line, but my thinking, take the climbing rope and give him a run, The other dawgs are all older and much more sedate (and slobbery,,, Great Danes no less) with only one outlier (Pearl, mushfaced pug with ‘little dog’ syndrome,,, She isn’t out much though) Maybe my god-dawgies will teach Cozzie some manners. Sasha especially as she tends to be the pragmatic, where Riggs tends to be all about having a good time. I also have that collar that I am so hesitant to use,,,, Last resort, (and 20 on the shock? He didn’t even flinch. Its up to 30 now.)
BUt I digress,,,,
Frustrated with the world right now, spent 3 hours in lotus this early morn, probing the depths looking for the ‘why’. Figured it might have been recent historical forays,,, that was not it, Cosmos,,,, Not it. Da situation,,,, Not it.
ITs me,,, as usual, feeling the edge of another dark night of the soul, where nothing seems worthwhile or even desirable. The times where I just want to give ALL of my shit away and become a wandering mendicant buddhist, or something,,,, I hit these about once a year,,, They always elicit a ‘growth spurt’ in my seeking. But man are they dark and deep, and getting longer to boot. I reread some of my Carl Jung books about ‘TDNS’ ( the dark night of the soul) and there is only one way out of them,,, THROUGH,,, just gotta tough it out, let the soul do its metamorphisis and pay attention,,, Things will improve. Even Siddhartha had his TDNS moments. (and he did become the mendicant at one point,,,, )
No worries,,, I ain’t goin’ to give in to the desire,,, I’ll struggle through and when its past, be better off,,,,, Besides, it would cost me 10-20X more, now, to replace what I have if I let it all go. F! that! I may be nutz, I am not stupid.
I think part of my problem is how fast time is moving these days. And yes, I know it doesn’t slow down at all now,,, only accelerates,,, but man,,, its almost half a year in and feels like just yesterday we watched Trumped swearing in,,,, W?T?F?over,,,, Call “FIre for effect” and get your’n arse movin’, Marine!!! THAT sort of hectic frenetic fire as we get older,,, and our bodies don’t take to kindly to the acceleration factor, like we did as kids where a three month vakay felt like forever, even thought it flew by,,,,
Maybe we just stuffed so much living into a short frame, it felt like forever,,, maybe as we slow down the living thing, the clocks accelerate ,,,,,
It’s all illusions anyway,,,, time especially, the illusion we try to trap using little mechanical devices called clocks, but we really have no control over how time expands and contracts around us. Minutes seem like hours, or hours seem like seconds,,, its all relative and illusory in the same thought,,,,
Listen to me blabberin’ away,,,, Such is what happens when it rains, I have a houseful of bored pets, and a mind that is bordering on TDNS again.
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On the world stage,,, Zelensky opened his kokainekurdeled kranium again, ticked off Shootin’ Putin and got Kyiv bombed again… Big Guy Trumped is thumping his chest saying “I don’t like it”,,,,
and thats the LEAST of the BS flying…. KrainFeld of the KlownKarKokaine express has access to German missile systems, and if he uses them, Putin is going to hit Berlin because, and as he states “Ukraine doesn’t have the means to direct those missiles,, only Berlin. They hit Moscow, I hit Berlin”
As much as I loved living in the 80’s, I don’t miss the cold war aspects, not one wee little bit, and yet,
here we are,,,,,
FUck,,,,,
nuff of that shit,,, time to go look inside and see what I can see,,,,,y’all take care
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Bad EVIL Dio,,,,
I don’t like this: I was forced into purchasing a ‘shock collar’ for Cosmos. When he goes into chase mode as he will when a Kat takes off running ‘Oh shit, DAWG!’, his hearing goes to the hounds, or something,,,,
I bought this, and so far so good. I haven’t had to use the shock aspect yet. It has a beep (fixed volume, but it stops Cos cold in confusion) Vibrate with 9 setting levels, Shock feature with 99 setting levels ( I have it on 20 currently,, I know later I am going to find out if that does the trick or not) and a Shock booster that adds an extra 10% to the first shock feature.
And its not like he isn’t getting along with the Kats. More Elbs than Mama (and Zooms is maintaining quite the distance, only comng in after dark to eat and then skeedaddle,,,) Elbs even lets Cosmos nibble on him, so its not like they don’t get along,,, its just that ‘Chase’ thing. I’ve been down this road with a dawg before and everytime, end up with a dead kat,,, The excitement of the chase gets in the brain and civilized thought goes buy-bye,,, NOT THIS TIME.
I shouldn’t need it often, but when the suns going down, the kats start to move and Cozzie and I are out walking, I will have the tool ready and waiting.
But I still don’t like it. Even dad gave me shit about it. (guess you know where my thinking comes from, eh?) “why don’t ya just torture the poor dawg,,,” I won’t use this thing unless I have to. The beep thing is harmless enough to re-inforce training (don’t piss on the rosebush sorta thing) and it does work so thats ‘not torture’. The vibrate mode totally confused the hell out of him, he acted like it came out of the ground and started trying to dig where he thought the ‘sound’ came from. Not wanting to go down the shock road yet, so I have no idea if its going to be effective at this setting.
If it works, great, if not, I may have to rehome Cosmos. I don’t tolerate kat-killers. And I pray that we don’t get there.
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Night off, Starship 9 launch
Successful launch and separation, currently watching flight control as we wait for Starlink reconnection,,,
like watching water boil,,,,
So far so good though,,, Looks like they worked out the engine bugs for hot separations.
more laters,,,,,
Lost attitude control somewhere around 25 minutes,,, doesn’t look like a controled re-entry possible,,,, 😦 Better than 7 and 8 though, where the fireworks happened in minutes of separation… Every launch is a learning moment,,,
Lettin’ go,
alternative title, SO what! (an all over the place monologue)
I was recently chastized for my writing here on the blog. Which I found characteristicly funny,,, I was chastized for “Metaphors, Allegories, and euphimisms”
THAT, isn’t a bad thing, thats a STYLE, nothing more. Maybe it could be percieved as ‘hiding behind a mask’ and ya might be right, but then, you might be totally friggin’ wrong too. I found a long time ago, when I first started blogging, people didn’t want the unvarnished truth; They wanted it whitewashed and sanitized for consumption. Whether that truth were about the world at large or about something going on in my personal realm, they wanted it ‘prettified’, not the military debrief version.
So I complied. I even had thousands of readers way back when. Things have changed in the spheres since then. Fakebook, X(formerly Twitter) before those was MySpace,,, as those grew, blogging has seen a steady drop in popularity. My site here is one that started feeling that back in 2012 or so. In no small part this blog was a casualty of an inner war amongst patriots, and I really couldn’t care less about the readership numbers anymore. This is more a place for me to vent out things, instead of letting them dwell internally, potentially starting infections or even worse things. (do you see the metaphor there? nothing hidden, its just a different way of saying ‘THIS IS MY CATHARSIS” nicer, with imagry and feeling added. STYLE,,, understand better?)
I spent 16 years on this hillside, self appointed isolation from society at large, with only the nets and an occasional foray into societal circles (VERY small group of close friends slowly acquired for that) I did that, not out of fear, but out of growth. I needed to make sure that the problems I had seen were ‘MINE’ or something else. Well, after 16 years, I can own them,,, they weren’t all “mine”, but I did chose to accept them and let them control who I was then.
Not anymore.
See, I LIKE who I have become. I like the fact that I can hear falsehoods as they are being spoke, and I choose whether or not to let the speaker ‘get away with it’. Usually, I just ignore it, and keep it in my mind that there is a distrust in that person: either they are hiding something, or they are trying to hide something from themselves. Usually the latter. Most people aren’t even aware of how much they lie to themselves. I guess its a sign of the times where we have an active media system that convolutes the truth on a daily basis to keep the masses at ease. Societal lubrication writ large if you will.
So when I look back on a dialogue and my head starts itching, I have to ask,,, whats the truth? And I am reminded of something a cop once told me; “there are three sides to every story, His, Hers, And the Truth”. Everyone has a different perception of reality.. its the nature of the beast that we are what we are: 8lbs of salty fatty tissue hidden in the cranium of a meat puppet with very limited sensory organs for input. The only serious sensory organ we have is our skin, the largest organ on our body. and its only capable of so much. Our eyesight is limited to a finite number of frequencies, same with our hearing,, our olfactory senses are pretty damned strong, but usually tied to emotion and survival, but even there, we are handicapped compared to our four-footed brethern,,, They “Read” smells like we read books.
Perceptions lie. Thats not an accusation, thats a fact. Our filters are biased and what you see is not what someone else sees. Ask any interrogator: If they are interviewing two people and those people have the exact same story, they are both lying. PERIOD, So the stories being different doesn’t mean they are lying outright, only that their senses told them what they did, and THOSE may have been wrong.
Another aspect is memory. Very few people can retain ‘video-like’ memories for more than 24 hours. You’ll start to massage the memory for ‘storage’ reasons. Verbatim recall is even worse.
It took me 16 years to learn to let people be people, living in their limited scope realities, perceiving as they trained themselves to.
It took me 16 years of letting go to find that I could let go of reality as I see it and accept that others see it differently. I always had something of an autisitic streak about details. And thats not to say I have eidetic memory (I do, but only for written words) Even so, like anyone, my memory can be skewed, waylaid, forgotten, Especially that ‘forgotten’ part. There are events that I have been involved in, that I do not recall, but others, more than one, DO.
There are also events that I have been involved in, that are etched like an acid pictograph in my brain.. THOSE, not pretty by any means, but I hold them close because to forget those would change me. They are solid reasons I am who I am today. Why I decided to ‘drop out’ 16 years ago.
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We honor our fallen, those that ‘gave all’ on today. Some of us, honor those same every time we think of them, think of those times. We never forget ‘then’. ‘we have seen the elephant’ and know what beasts await on that side: Why do you think we hold back so much when we ‘should be stackin’ bodies’,,,, We know,,,,
So what? Remember them, remember then if you were there. Some saw far more than I did, but what I saw was more then enough. I can still smell the bodies burning on the Highway of Death, I can still see the dead in the trenches and bunkers we destroyed; smelled before seen. I can still recall vividly that ‘day’ of darkness, sitting on an ammo can shitting my guts out, high noon and so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, if it weren’t for the oil well fires in the distance. I see the rain pooling anywhere it could pool, and it was as dark as the sky, black, inky black.
Those memories are why I started writing; the first sword in the arsenal. Sometimes those words cut back; critiques of those that think someone is hiding behind a mask. So what if I am. I know the beast the mask hides, shackled and chained, rarely loosed upon the world because the destruction that follows is never repairable. Keep that in mind when you are dealing with one of the quiet ones,,, And don’t take it personal when you tell such, ‘Goodbye’ and they concur without argument. They know when to walk away, save face, respect memories. They know who they are inside; they don’t need your approval, nor your ‘fixing’. They just ‘Are’,,,,
Today, Honor those that have fallen. Those of us that didn’t fall, wish they were still with us today, we could really use them in these days, the days yet to come.
LLLLL
In memory
Memorial Weekend.
That three day weekend, thoughts of the past, which is quite funny, since this month to date has been akin to my paddling the eddyline of a tidal rip. Total chaos of currents under my keel, one minute pushing this way, the next the other, and in a second, caught in a maelstrom whirlpool,,, Wild memories long buried resurfaced, memories of love and light, memories of events that in new light were betrayals of trust and friendship. Memories of why I went down the roads I did: not all for the best, but compromises to hold an ethical line.
Memories of faces long past, faces that were last seen in the dusts of the Middle East. Dusts, called sand, but so fine, a handful tossed into the air doesn’t hit the ground, but blows away like so much fog on the wind. Dust that gets into the cracks and crevices of everything, slowly polishing even the roughest surface smooth like glass.
TIME
you can’t fight it.
Time and exposure will soften and distort everything. Things that should be held dear become taken for granted. Those that should be forgotten and left in the dust bin hold high ground, swaying opinion and direction. We are a negative species: it’s hard wired in our brains to see the negative, hold it and recall it. Its a survival trait. Re-training ourselves requires serious effort, and is often thwarted by that hardwired aspect. Holding the negative, vs learning from it, slowly poisons our souls.
I see where all of this month came from, traveled and ended with, and I feel sorrow. But something that was holding me back has been cast off, a deckline that was fouled has been cut away, freeing the ship to move forward again. So the sorrow also carries a feeling of freedom again, not happiness, but contentment: contentment of a mind free of guilt, knowing that, even if there was some bad air exposed, or poisons let loose, its was for the benefit of growth.
Let go. Move forward. Empty that cup.
The path is still wide open, no defined goal or direction. I know why, I hold that purpose open for now, because the current purpose is still in play. And until that purpose is fulfilled, my personal wants and desires remain on hold.
TIME
you can’t fight it.
but you can flow with it.
And so I choose to FLOW,,,,
moving forward, with the past as a foundation, not a guide post…
Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face
With stars to fill my dreams
I am a traveler of both time and space
To be where I have been
Sit with elders of a gentle race
This world has seldom seen
Talk of days for which they sit and wait
All will be revealed
Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace
Whose sounds caress my ear
But not a word I heard could I relate
The story was quite clear
Oh, oh
Oh, oh
Ooooh
Oh, baby, I been flying
No, yeah, mama, there ain’t no denying
Oh, ooh, yeah, I’ve been flying
Mama, mama, ain’t no denying, no denying
Oh, all I see turns to brown
As the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand
As I scan this wasted land
Trying to find, trying to find, where I’ve been
Oh, pilot of the storm who leaves no trace
Like thoughts inside a dream
Here is the path that led me to that place
Yellow desert stream
My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon
I will return again
Sure as the dust that floats high in June
When movin’ through Kashmir
Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails
Across the sea of years
With no provision but an open face
Along the straits of fear
Oh, oh
Oh, oh
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Dio's Workshop 