The Daily {W}rite August 2019 wk. o4

One of my Facebook friends posted a prayer she wrote asking God to "blow-up the Earth and kill all the people on it because people are just so mean . . ."  something like that. Anyway, it really upset me, made me extremely angry . . . I wrote this on a separate post from her post as retribution:

"AahahahahaHA! You're so negative! Oh, what? You woke up this morning and just now discovered that being a good American citizen was . . . HAAAAAARD?! Just now you got that? Life, being a good citizen of America has always been HAAAAAARD! But you can make it a little easier on yourself and others by fighting back . . . in a positive and constructive way. What? Don't want to try that, huh? Is that too HAAAAAARD?!"

A friend of mine read this and commented that I was probably a little to harsh, and I looked at it a second time and thought . . . yeah, he's right. So, I deleted it from Facebook . . . and felt a bit ashamed for getting angry with someone who I really don't know . . . I mean, I had no concern for their well being at all. I mean, they must have been really upset to want God to kill all humans because we're all so terrible. But then again . . . what the hell was that? Kill everybody because they're killing the Earth?! Ha! I've created a vicious loop for myself. So, I'll break the chain right here and now. There. Gone. I can again deal with Facebook nation in a more "caring" mode. {Smiles}

Friday, August 23, 2o19
The rain ran through Norman-town last night . . . well, more of a gentle jog, I think. Yes, there was thunder . . . but it sounded more like the purr of kitty cat than the roar of a lion. And the rain did no damage in my part of town, at least. I doubt it was even strong enough to effect the Amazon rainforest fire. The world is on fire and America is twiddling its thumbs. We are a horrible country under this administration. We need a change. A big-ass change.

1. Here's the thing about being ill and having no way to get to the doctors . . . it sucks!
2. Heroes need no one to tell them what they are.
3. Don't go through life, be life.

I'm having a poetry dry spell . . . even though it rained pretty steady for a few hours, I couldn't find the "will" to write another rainy night poem. How much rain can you put in the poetic bucket before it flows over onto the carpet. Nothing nastier than a soggy poem.

Saturday, August 24, 2o19

Angry feet. Scratching away at each other . . . like a grey cat spat over who claims dominion over the food bowl. Night swings a mighty axe . . . my eyes slam shut  . . . a waste of a good moment . . . they pop open as soon as the threat finishes its shift . . . morning's coming in carrying a warn suitcase, a slightly frayed bowler hat tittering on the top of its ash-white head . . . greet him, a smile to him, a grin to him, a "so good to see you again." toss his bag on the bed, go to the kitchen . . . the coffee is still dripping into existence . . . almost enough black in the pot to form a half a cup of bitter-dark coffee. Another night executed. Managed to keep the monsters from devouring me . . . this time.

Which reminds me that one of my Halloween junkie friends on Facebook let me know that . . . Halloween is coming!
Sunday, August 25, 2o19

Yes! My favorite holiday . . . ever. I know, I know! "What about Christmas?" Oh, I love Christmas and my sister takes care of that one for sure! She's a big time Christmas Judy! But me and Halloween have a special relationship even sense I discovered horror movies at the age of . . . what? 6, 7, maybe 8? I am one of the original kids who had a TV as a babysitter. Yep, particularly in the summer when sis and brother would go off to Victorville, CA, to stay with the aunt and uncle who owned a ranch with cattle and horses and stuff. I wasn't much for that. Pure city kid here. So, I'd opt to stay home and mom and dad worked nights ( a lot) in beer bars on Atlantic Blvd. (Atlantic was a LONG street going through at least four maybe five towns so there were a LOT of beer bars that needed tending on Friday and Saturday night.) and I at 6, 7, 8 years old couldn't even go into most of them so . . . home alone with the TV set and . . . Friday and Saturday night HORROR MOVIES!

2:58pm

I'm having a bit of a health scare today . . . well, pretty much all weekend. Shortness of breath . . . say I went over al this in another post on this week, didn't I? So, no need to backtrack.

Listening to a little country rock out of the 70s. Can you dig it? Can you dig it? Not a question I hear much anymore . . . no, the fact is I've never heard it or any of the clichés that derived from it (I can dig it, you dig me? Can you dig it? ) since  . . . '75? Maybe I'll bring it back into style, here in the 21st century.

Need to write more. Poetry, that is. The blog is coming along . . . although only a few friends read this ever . . . I still enjoy the brain duster effect this blog has on my head. Brain duster. That's what I've always called the psychologists I've seen over the years, brain dusters. You know, sort of a spring cleaning for the thought process that at times can get a bit cluttered, confused by the dusty memories that collect within all the nooks and craters that fill my consciousness. Never cared for the term head shrinker or shrink! That always seemed like a sort of mental, surgical procedure, removing something from the conscious and subconscious forever . . . sort of a metaphysical lobotomy. Hey! I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.  Old joke. Anyway, I don't like dealing with head troubles by getting rid of some of the bad shit that keeps creeping into my mind, you know? The got a pill, a forget pill that takes away all the bad memories you have. No, I don't want that. I just want to learn how to consciously deal with those bad thoughts when they attack. I mean, who I am is made up of not only the good things that happened to me but all those bad things that happened to me, also. I don't want to forget any of it  . . . ever. The scars, the bruises, the smiles are all me . . . every bit of me.

Wednesday, August 28, 2o19

Looking back on what I posted so far . . . So, Three days since I last posted! Yikers! So, Let me catch you up.

1. Went to the doctor's day before yesterday for my COPD. Had a good talk. Told him that I had been only using the nebulizer at home because it was cheaper (about $20.00 a month) than having it and a rescue inhaler AND a "Once a Day." The doc, an old guy, was very sympathetic. He gave me three months worth of Once a Day (which is the most expensive of the inhalers running from $50.00 to $200.00 a month depending on whether the drug people need new cars that month.) AND hooking me up with a prescription for the rescue inhaler for . . . $24.56! Yeah, baby!
2. So, woke up yesterday to the sound of the phone ringing. It was the doctor's office telling me they wanted to bloodwork on me and would I come in. Sure, I made an appointment for to day, went to see them and wondered why I had to come in today when day before yesterday I was in the office.
3. So, went to a movie yesterday  . . . Good movie, I guess. David liked it better than I did, I think. Anyway, got home from that, sat down to watch TV . . . And a couple hours later, I see the red and blue flashing of lights on wall. Looked out and there's this police car blocking off the

street. I went out to see what was going on. And there was another car on Brooks doing the same thing, blocking traffic from driving onto Trout. I walked over to the police car parked closest to me. This big ass Godzilla looking cop (wearing Terminator sunglasses) leaps out of the car and walks towards me. I'm scared shitless now 'cause this cop is like the size of two average sized guys . . . one on top of the other! So, freaking out a bit, I say, "How you doing tonight?" "Alright," says Godzilla and I swear he said it in an Arnold voice! So, so, I smiled, nodding my head and without running I fast walked back to my apartment building. So, the cops left and about 10pm the news came on and I found out that there was a "bomb" scare on the corner of Page and Trout . . . And I freaked! I was three houses away from the corner of Trout and Page! Why didn't the cops warn me (hee! I had typed warm me instead of warn me ), give me a chance to leave just in case whatever it was BLEW UP?!

4:35pm

Wanted to write some more . . . guilt, I'm guessing, for missing three days of writing. I'm still angry all the time. Or at the least, I get worked up inside my self-generating anger whenever something doesn't go as planned, people being late for an appointment, people laughing at me . . . or maybe I just think they're laughing at me . . . strangers blocking my way in Walmart. Yeah, that one is strong in me . . . and petty. I mean, I guess it's a bit rewarding to know that I now know what it is that pisses me off about life . . . other people. Mostly. I just don't want to get mad any more or I really don't want to express my anger with shouting, screaming, and the occasional fist fight. Which really doesn't happen anymore. When it seems like I'm going to go to war mode on some motherfucker who just fucked with me, by body reminds me, "Hey, asshole, you're 71 years old. That 'motherfucker' will kill you!"

Thursday, August 29, 2o19

Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Can  you guess why I'm so happy? Why have tears of joy filling my eyes? Well, the animation to your left? BIG HINT! Yes! The first Halloween shop for 2019 has just opened its doors. AND . . . it turns out to be my favorite store to take pics in,  and maybe buy a little Halloween thingy . . . if I can find somethin inexpensive. This place is pretty pricey. But I did see a pretty cool Freddy hat that I could wear for more than Halloween!

Friday, August 3o, 2o19
Just today and tomorrow before the end of August. Now that I've got all my medication for my COPD I'm feeling better . . . Went walking over to Campus Corner to meet David for coffee . . . and yes, the shortness of breath is still there

but I was able to walk the whole way without stopping. But after coffee we walked to OU's student union and I went home from there AND . . . yeah, I really started to breathe heavier. So, not totally well . . . yet. If I'm gonna be honest with you and myself . . . they say that once you have COPD you never get rid of it. So, the chances are that the meds may help but there's a good (I mean bad) chance that this illness is going to get worse . . .

It's 10:28pm on a Friday night. Damn. Used to be I would be out somewhere, a bar more than likely, trying to score  some good loving. Hee! Well, those days are way gone. And good that they are. I like my life slowed down, I'm enjoying being home and writing on the blog . . . and the drinking? I don't miss it at all. Not even a little. Smoking was harder to give up than drinking.

Saturday, August 31, 2o19

Tomorrow! The first football game on the schedule for OU is a Sunday game! I know! I never heard of a Sunday game during the regular season! So, I finally broke down and got an OU hat at Walmart. Well, I took me two shots to get it. I went to the OU store in Walmart and picked up a OU hat, grabbed one I liked . . . AND it only cost $10.00! Try to by one, same style on The Corner? $31.00! No shit. So, paid for it and put it on . . . oh, a little too small . . . no worries. I'll just adjust it . . . wait a minute! I adjust the strap as far as it can go and . . . it doesn't fit. David grabs it . . . He looks inside the hat like some archeologist looking for hieroglyphics  . . . and he smiles at me and holds the inside of the cap up to my eyes and . . . the tag says, YOUTH! Fuck! Got the wrong fuckin size! But no worries I'll just take it and exchange . . . and there are to people in front of me at the "exchange" table . . . good no problem . . . but the woman running the exchanges? The oldest and the slowest woman I've ever seen. I mean, she's so slow you to check he pulse every five minutes to make sure she's still alive. "FUCK!" Yeah, that one I said in full voice! So loud that the couple standing in front of me stared and then slowly moved away from me! "Fuck!" That fuck was internal. No one heard it but the inside of my head. Anyway, dead grandma has finally finished with the first family in line and sloooooooooooowly signals to the couple that I had just offended that they were next . . . AND! Thank God! Another exchange register is opened and I'm the first in line! So, That's the story of The OU Hat Walmart Massacre! And that's the last entry for this months blog. See you next month! {smiles}