Every Path Has Its Puddle

Bittersweet the barren path which leaves us cast away, than those traversed in turpitude by those maligning prey.

Don't dig your grave with knife and fork; your own, especially.  Can't trust the world; must look within yourselves, specifically.

A camel's nose within a tent; his body follows suit.  Intrusiveness allowed within destroys; there's no dispute.

Adorning demons within silk; they're demons nonetheless.  It's the evil which resides in them which has you now possessed.

A new broom brought in, sweeping clean; I know I'd let you down.  But electives pinned-down afterwards weren't why I'd lost my crown.

Stolen fruit, the sweetest thing; picked ripely from a tree which others cared for tenderly.  In gardens, there's no fee.

The devil looks after his own, while in your eyes I'm stained.  The devils's own now stands adorned.  I naked; garbed in pain.

The wish is father to the thought; creating thine own cause.  No comfort found in rationales, long after one withdraws.

It takes all sorts to make a world, I'd thought I knew my place; but never thought the sorts I'd chose would lead me to disgrace.

One of these days means none at all; "shall pass" remains unclear.  Will never happen quite that way; shall shoulder it for years.

Anytime still means no time; shan't happen, know it's true.  Beguiled paths adorned with hope, believed in hitherto.

Blood will out, just give it time; true nature will surprise.  Like bubbles submerged forcefully; eventually, they rise.

The die is cast, or so you've said while claiming no control of choices which are volunteered; forsaking now a soul.

Best to lose a saddle now, rather than the horse; an unseen path is what remains.  Are hearts filled with remorse?

Yet half a loaf is better than - none; or so we're told.  Please pardon my ingratitude; all that's left is mold.

All things grow with time - 'cept grief.  But I don't believe that's so.  Perhaps more time is what I need; my path will help me know.

The rains in spring bring forth the blooms; unpleasant, though today.  Tomorrow just extends the cold which winter brings my way.

Those who will the end, it's said, shall also will the means.  Time has come for me though now, crossing my ravines.

Facts speak loud, much more than words - uttered all along.  Inspiration; bitter now - you've finally got your song.

With distance great, shall hearts grow fond?  Shall love then remain strong?  A new path traversed in solitude is where I now belong.

Bittersweet as love can be with those whom we depend - upon to treat us lovingly; Lord, save me from my friends.

 

Dub'

Unwritten Codes of Life - Protocols for Men, Pt. I - Public Restrooms

• Discussions are not to be initiated, and conversations are generally to be avoided altogether.

• Eye contact is to be averted; and when standing at the urinal, the head and eyes are to be directed straight ahead at the wall. This is precisely why many establishments now frame the sports page on the wall behind every urinal. Get a clue.

• Stalls are to initially be chosen from the ends, opposite sides first, working inwards towards the middle.

• Unless absolutely necessary, an adjoining stall to one that's already occupied is never chosen.

• Under NO circumstances, are "wide-stances" to be tolerated.

• Courtesy flushes are acceptable. Do not impugn, nor fret over them.

• When two men, from separate paths, eventually make a beeline for the same restroom door, the man not in the lead shall yield by pretending he's actually heading in another direction.

• When you're the only one in the restroom, and you've had ample time to conduct your business accordingly; your time is officially up once somebody else steps into another stall.

• Wash your damn hands. With hot water. And lots of Gojo.

• I don't care if you just washed your damn hands, I ain't shakin' it. Really? As a matter of fact, you shouldn't have even noticed I was in here, if you'd simply paid heed to the eye-contact protocol.

• Under no circumstances, ever, is it acceptable to perform personal surgery in a bathroom stall. Trust me on this one.

　
Questions?
　
　
Dub'

Walking a Tightrope

All these medical issues I’ve been having lately; they’re really beginning to drag me down.  Except for sporadic office visits here and there during the early 90’s, I’ve largely avoided doctors my entire adult life.  I’ve come to now realize why.  Whereas I’d thought I possessed only a simple aversion to them, it turns out I’ve discovered that I have quite an anxiety about this whole doctoring and wellness thing.  Why?  I don’t know; I honestly don’t. It’s perhaps beyond conjecture.  What I do know, is that I constantly find myself alone, in yet another doctors office; who in turn winds up sending me to yet another – before returning back to them.  Most visits I find myself at some point finding it difficult to breathe; even often to the point of tears.  I start to get a little shaky, a little confused; I just want this all to go away.  A big, grown man such as me, driven to tears brought on by anxiety.  What a picture, huh?   All in all, and aside from a few creaks and groans (and headaches, a hiatial hernia, this damn growth in my sinus, skin cancer, peripheral neuropathy, etc. etc. etc.), I’m in fairly decent shape.  Strong as a bull, considering I don’t exercise nearly as much as I should.  Well, I guess I don’t exercise at all (does sex count?).  I guess what I’m trying to say is all this doctoring is driving me nuts.  But I’ve started it, and I’ve never been prone to just up and quitting something.  

I’m currently being seen by 3 physicians; and I’ve got another 3 I’m supposed to schedule appointments with.  To top that off I’ve had this lingering contagion within my knees since December; one that has had me in the emergency room a total of 7 times now I believe, and thrice-weekly visits to a wound specialist at the outset.  Co-pays are starting to kill me; and let’s not overlook the multitude of meds they have me on now.  Let me see… two for migraines, one for pain, one for pain & inflammation, and two antibiotics.  Jesus.  You’d think my casket was already lined up; but damn it, I’m strong, and I don’t want anymore of this.  Tell you one thing, the medical profession has sure come a long way since the late 80’s; but it’s definitely a big business.  And I’m a prime client; everybody in the loop has got their hand out, and I feel like they’re passing me around the table like a Thanksgiving turkey.  Simply put, this is getting depressing.  This is too much for me to concentrate on, and I’m an analyst by trade.  That’s saying something.  I guess it would be nice if I was in the position of having my own personal assistant to coordinate these things for me; but I’m not.  I’m a big boy; but it’s definitely getting me down. 

Since all this has been going on, I’ve found myself scaling back in my social affairs somewhat; perhaps a different story altogether.  So here I am, walking this tightrope of uncertainty.  I’ve got to face it alone; and I’m surrounded.  As I span this tightrope of solitude, I have sickness and depression on either side of me staring me down; while I ease slowly onwards.  I figure if I can make it to the other side, I can leave all three behind me.  I hope…

Dub’

Things that piss me off - Pt. IX

• Alcoholism

• Anxiety

• Appeals to fear.

• Bar Fly's

• Chaos, and the alcohol that percolates it.

• Disingenuousness

• Individuals overly-obsessed with separating their *own business*, while not being able to mind it at the same time.

• Lip service.

• People who would hold against me the fact that I "process" things differently; and would suggest therefore that my opinions are not based on reality. Apparently you weren't listening to me, when upon divulging this most privileged of information to you, me mentioning that the doctors never actually said I was wrong; rather that I was remarkably accurate. And that they merely said I took a different and more complex avenue towards sorting things out, and never once inferred that my sense of reality has ever been challenged. My short term memory maybe; but that's about as far as THAT goes.

• Sinus scopes

• That there are a great many people that still don't understand that living and loving are one and the same. What does one live for? That's what one loves.

• The futility of believing in something strongly.

• Those who say one thing, and then do another; and then act incognizant as to the basis of your ensuing dissapointment with them.

• That love and companionship aren't necessarily synonymous.

　
　
Uh huh…
　
Dub'

Embrace your children; cherish the time you share with them

There is perhaps no greater squanderer of the time we're allotted in this life, than me. That said, that makes me an expert on many levels; though I'm certain I won't convince anyone of that. I spoke previously about "big rocks", and putting those in your "jar" first. I'd like to discuss one of those very "rocks" - our children. My son is no longer a child. He's 21 now, but he'll always be my child. Aside from approximately 5 months out of the 259 he's been alive, he's been either with me, or somewhere close to me. In retrospect, vicinity aside, perhaps I wasn't as close to him these past several years as he was to me. If I could re-live some of these past several years, and correct mistakes I'd made with him, I would. But that's life for you; no magic time machine to address our errors. Only acknowledging them, learning from them, and as a learning tool - embracing them. Much like we should embrace our children; which starts now.

I've made mistakes with my son on both sides of the spectrum; being too soft on him, and also being too firm. I guess I've never been one much known for treading the middle ground on much of anything; but I figure now's a good time to start. After his mother and I separated in early 2003, my son and I moved up to the Puget Sound area to start anew. He was an unseasonable 13 at the time, and prone to sometimes acting out. Prior to the separation, I was, for all intents and purposes, my sons secondary parent. His mother had always tended to provide him with his wants. Not necessarily his needs, but his wants. I was always the "No Man"; trying vainly to counter the constant indulging and mollycoddling. If there's one thing children understand, it's the basic concept of "path of least resistance". His mother was always "yes"; which meant many times I was simply "no". Though why I allowed myself to be is an entirely different subject altogether, that placed me square in the back seat as a parent. The point I'm attempting to establish is that when he and I moved away, I was concerned about his emotional state, and quickly became his enabler. I didn't want to lose him, so I quickly became his "buddy".

Make a long story short, this lack of appropriate guidance didn't exactly fare him well during his teen years. By the time I thought I figured it out, he was already 17; and that's when I began to hold him completely accountable for his actions and his choices. By the time he was 18, I had him packing on his own; and he faced very insurmountable odds for the next 3 years. In hindsight, I believe it's forged him into a much stronger person; but somewhere along the way I lost my compassion. I went from completely amenable, to unflinchingly strict; no middle ground. This resulted in my son having some feelings of bitterness towards me. And if there's one thing he was always capable of, it was holding a grudge. During the course of this last summer, I underwent a series of very unfortunate interpersonal mishaps; which my son ultimately witnessed. A lot of disenfranchised sons may have simply said "serves him right"; but not my son. He placed himself firmly there for me, when I had no one. That was a very humbling experience for me; for you see, my mishaps could have easily been avoided, if I simply chose to do the right thing, at the right time.

In retrospect, I firmly believe he respects the intentions I had with him previously; but it's up to me now to show him I've learned from my mistakes. Especially if I'm to insist that he learn from his. Nowadays, my son is my backbone. He tends to get overly emotional, likes to pour the proverbial kerosene on the fire; but his dedication to me and my well being is unwavering. I could have easily lost my son. I hadn't spent nearly enough time with him during his formative teen years, and then decided to teach him harsh life lessons much too quickly. He wasn't prepared for it, and that was my fault. But instead of begrudging me (as is his nature), he embraced me. At a time when I needed embracing. I will forever be thankful for my son; I just hope to God I don't ever let him down again.

A lot of people drudge through their daily lives as if their children are nothing but problems. The real problem however is that there are only 3 ways to deal with a problem. If that's how you view your children, then that means (same as with problems) you either:

1. Ignore them.
2. Struggle with, resist, and/or fight them.
3. Take action to resolve them.

Ignoring problems doesn't make them go away; and fighting them tends to magnify them, make them grow. As to our children, we obviously don't want to ignore them, nor do we desire to struggle with them. All that's left is to take action with them. EMBRACE THEM. Same goes for problems in our lives. Embrace them. Accept them (our children, AND our problems) for what they are. Understand how they impact you. Only then can all the negativity which impacts you begin to lose its power. It doesn't mean you're surrendering; it just means that by accepting them, you can now dive headlong into resolving your problems - and your interactions with your children. Embrace them. Cherish them. Otherwise one day the clock will run out, and it will have been too late.
　

'Dub