I’m a bright and shining star
but my body’s crapping out
I have no doubt
I have no fear
I am this fantastic thing
Beyond compare
but my body’s crapping out
it doesn’t want to go out
crying
but the pain is so great
it can’t keep from sighing
While I point the way to paradise
my body looks at me as if to say
are you kidding me?
can’t you see I’m crapping out
i can’t walk anymore
i can’t see
I’m a bright and shining star
but my body is crapping out
So so sad
this summer morning
all that I would
seems faded
history closes in
why can’t I get it up again?
and challenge the world
to be more?
Instead I pretend
and write poems to the wind
so so sad it is
when I have lost that spark
no interest, no heart
a shell of a man
what remains are only parts
held together by a fierce will
and a determined heart
so sad though
that this has come to be
once I sang brightly
my destiny urged me forward
and whispered in my ear every day
today I feel lonely
so sad so so so sad today
my path seems cloudy, windy, and grey
such is my state
as my body slowly reaches it’s fate
leaving my soul in sadness
so so sad
Sheer Terror lurks beneath my calm exterior this afternoon. I lost my job. I had anticipated that that might happen. But now that it has, I feel unprepared. This means I am no longer hanging by a thread, I am in free fall once again. Once again, I’ve got to hit the bricks. The prospects for a 58 year old man, with failing eyesight, is not good at all. The challenge is going to be keeping from sinking into a deep despair. You know the state I mean, where you sit and stare into space, unmotivated to do anything. I hate that state of mind, and will likely continue to blog until I can blog no more, just to keep myself engaged in the process of finding work once again.
I would love to be able to make my living writing, but that is a slow process. But I will definitely explore all of the various avenues that there may be on the internet. I would love to have my own talk show, where I could just sit and talk about whatever callers wanted to discuss. That would be fun! Eventually I’d like to try out comedy, but that is scary. Maybe comedy writing would be a good idea. But, of course, right now I need to just keep food on the table. So I would be willing to do just about anything. I have about $430 to my name. That is just sad. I landed my last job just as I was becoming desperate, maybe that could happen again.
I can recall the two and a half years I spent unemployed, from March 2009 to Aug. 2011. I got to the point where I was just numb from the constant stress of looking and looking and looking for work. A part of me, today, wanted to just go on and do all the things I would normally do, as if I hadn’t lost my job. In denial. So, folks! I can’t be sure of how much longer I will be able to continue to do this. I may be evicted from my apartment at some point, and end up on the street. I would have no computer, no nothing. At that point, I could potentially lose the will to live. I hope not, but I have no intention of living out my remaining time on this Earth, living in a doorway, and wandering around each day, dirty and completely without resources. I would rather be dead.
On that cheery note, let’s hope that things start to look up. Maybe I will find a job soon, although I think the chances are pretty slim.
Meanwhile i will blog on!!! As I was resting just now (my right leg hurts from all the walking I did today, leaving off resumes), I remembered a song by David Bowie which begins with “I’m Home! Lost my Job! I am incurably ill. You think this is easy? Realism?” I thought it fit. I think the other lines “I am a DJ I am what I play and I have believers believing me.” are good too. Well I have ‘followers’ at any rate. Enjoy the video! It brightened my dark mood.
So, I’m wondering, can I really, really?, make money off of the internet? My guess it would take a lot of time and energy, and luck. It feels like shouting into a very dark void. Is anybody out there? Does anybody care about what I have to say? Certainly just having a blog like this one, which merely consists of some old guy typing his thoughts doesn’t generate money, only carpal tunnel syndrome. So, what is the secret? So many people, from all over the world, doing what I am doing right now, typing out their thoughts and sending them out into the ether, never to be read by anyone other than their families and closest friends. It’s sad, really. But it isn’t as sad as not doing it. Sitting alone in an apartment with only a cat for a companion, only having enough money for a couple more months, and then what? I will be starting a sort-of job next week, that’s if I decide to go through with it. It would be canvassing for donations to support pro-choice. I’m not yet clear on how the donations support pro-choice. I’m not the door-to-door type, but I am also unemployed, so maybe I can become the door-to-door type, besides it isn’t like I’m selling vacuum cleaners. I actually support pro-choice, and that position is popular around here, so I’ll see how it goes.
But, back to my main theme, writing, for profit. I think I have what it takes, but who knows? There is no short supply of writers, that’s for sure! It is certainly a good idea to have sources of opinion other than the crap you are often served on television, and in the magazines. Put a few chimpanzees and a typewriter alone in a room for a few days and you would get better commentary than you find on Fox news. I have a lot to say, but sometimes I’m just tired. Expressing yourself in a way that is meaningful, and makes a difference is difficult to keep up day after day. But at least this is something. It allows an old guy, living alone, to feel less isolated. That’s all, for now.
russell5087 