Sometimes I feel like a man in the wilderness
I'm a lonely sailor lost at sea
Drifting with the tide
Never quite knowing why
Sometimes it makes no sense at all
And in my mind I see -
I'm lost in a sea of nothingness.
No hope at all.
Only pain and frustration.
Lots of pain.
I really wish the frelling doctors would make up their minds about using stronger pain meds. One says no and another says yes. I, myself, lean towards the latter opinion. But even that won't help very much.
It looks like things are going to get messy soon. To soon. I wish they weren't but it's pretty much out of my hands now. When the excrement hits the fan all hell is going to break loose. Ok, that sounds like something from a cheesy movie. But it's true. I can't really comment on anything right now.
I spent a couple of hours tonight talking to my Chinese lady friend. Yeah, we still talk and sometimes do stuff with her daughter and my son. It seems that I am still attracted to her but she's really not attracted to me. At least not in That Way. She'd been having trouble with her daughter and I hope I was able to help out a little with that. She spent almost 3 hours tonight on the phone talking about her ex-husband [who was a controlling man in an emotional mess which made her a mess, too] and her ex-lover [who she's still in love with but he's married with a child so they can't ever be together] (blah, blah, blah). At least she did. Every man alive knows how that made me feel. But I do like her as a friend and her daughter is still in need of some guidance (and I like her kinda like the daughter I'll never have) so I'll stay friends and just try and kill the "romantic" feelings. Especially the romantic feeling of wanting to jump her bones. But if anyone can do it I can. I've had enough practice all my life.
I keep coming back to that song. When it came out I was going through one of the most agonizing times of my life. Seventeen years old and a senior in high school. I was with my very first real girlfriend. Patricia Henry. Blond, blue eyed, 5' nothing but stacked like a brick house. She was also psychotic. Or is it psychopathic? I get them confused. Either way she put me through a meat grinder and blast furnace both at the same time. Messed me up good for, well, for life. I've pretty much recovered over the intervening 26 years but there's still a little scar on my psyche, probably never to fully heal. It always seems to come out and kill any hope of finding a woman to be with. And I mean BE WITH; body, mind & soul. After 43 years you come to realize it's not all about sex. Yeah, it's still quite a bit about sex, but there's more. Much more. But it's not going to happen. Even if there was a woman who could conceivably overcome my debilitating physical condition and subsequent mental impairments along with the lack of any reasonable monetary income I'd end up torpedoing myself in the end. Of course, this has all the earmarks of a self fulfilling prophecy. I find a woman then subconsciously intentionally sabotage everything. But then again, that's what this wound is meant to do. It all circles in on itself going 'round and 'round... Like a temporal feedback loop (for all you Trek fans out there).
So, what does all of this mean? Who gives a shit! No one cares if I'm fucked for the rest of my life. Hell, even I don't care right now. But it's 02:15 and I never care about anything after midnight.