Posted by kazoo on January 20, 2002, at 5:07:35
In reply to Re: *KAZOO* PLEASE READ......forgot, posted by dreamer on January 19, 2002, at 6:45:10
> My email address at top. Go on, use it -have a good moan or discuss your epitaph!
Dreamer, my dear, you are very sweet and kind. I appreciate your messages and your concern.
"Let no man write my epitaph," a great movie I might add. I would never tell you to "F*** O**." I would never tell anyone to "F*** O**." Simply not my style.
I'm going through a bad time and I can't seem to understand or cope as I usually did in the past. And do you know what the real kicker is? I can't even take the very advice I give to others here in the group applicable to my own plights. Would this be a form of hypocrisy?
One third of my family is dead.
Another third is in a maximum security prison.
And the last third is running from the law.
So where does that leave me?I'm too old to be young, but too young to be old.
I've been doing a lot of "retrospecting" these days and come to the conclusion that I'm no different from anyone else, not that I thought I was in the first place, or did I?
My life is a bona fide mess and I've become "mental." For eight days last week, I had pneumonia in my left lung. First time I ever got this thing. I was really sick. I was alone.
When the kid on my road killed himself on July 18, 2001, I condemned the act privately, but now I can understand how people are driven to a particular distractive point of mad-capped abandon. But still, I can't justify, or condone, this final act.
I'm reached out to my "faith" in the Holy Roman Catholic Church and found the same emptiness present as when I did at 8 years old. The local priest thinks I'm possessed. I've been drinking holy water imported from Lourdes and all I get are the drizzly shits. Yahweh and I aren't on speaking terms or so it seems. Ask me if I care? Better yet, ask HIM if he cares, HA! That'll be the day! But I will confess that I "talk" to the Virgin Mary. And I think she talks back to me.
I have no idea what I'm trying to say here since it's 5 am EST, and it's finally snowing in New England, but I'm no Yankee, I'm a New Yorker. Since September 11, I haven't been back to the City because I think it's been raped. The thought of going to the ballet, opera, museums, theaters, discos, smut shops left my psyche. So much for season tickets to ADULTERAMMA.
It's a zoo out there which is why I stay home and stare out the window into fields of empty space in the front of my house, and a dense forest in the back with mountains. I once saw this natural beauty, but now it all looks like well-done picture postcards available at any drug store.
Even my cat has become odd. She eats dog food and thinks it can fly.
"The man ain't got no kulture."
"No man is an island ... he's a PENInSula." Attention Messr. John Donne: when you find yourself, be sure to lose yourself since nobody bothers to listen to (or read) you anyway.
To get some sleep, I take 5 OXYI-CONTIN, a Seconal, some Benadryl, Ambien and Sonata. I also take vitamins and drink milk. I stopped eating 8 weeks ago, sustaining myself on carrots, jelly donuts, coffee, Pepsi and tooth-picks. I lost quite a bit of weight and I look like crap. Even the health clubs and spas turn me away.
Dreamer, you're a living doll, like Willow and Shar (has she been around).
I want to give up my worldly possessions and model my life after Saint Augustine, my patron Saint for dullness.
I miss my Ma beyond all words, and The John Dempsey Hospital in Farmington, Connecticut killed her with not just one botched angiogram, but two: the first one on October 25, 2001 and the second one December 6, the day she died.
Patient Relations wrote me this pablum, bullshit letter glossing over the facts, but I know better and I told them so. In a short, simple, respectable response to this letter I was threatened with an arrest by UCONN. They claimed I was "offensive" since I blamed two doctors for killing my mother. Well, that's just tough crap. The truth does hurt.
Again, as if that wasn't bad enough, in three days I go to Probate Court to work out the details of my parents estate. Naturally, there's always problems with this when you're left everything, and a family member can't quite understand that she emotionaly and financially abused her parents and other family members in her own deceitful manner FOR 12 WHOLE YEARS, and therefore gets nothing except my wrath. If I see this broad in public, I will run her over with a steam roller (If I an buy one).
I've never felt so alone in my entire life as I do right now. Even my cat ignores me ... must be the dog food diet.
I'll keep in touch, but not very often. I was whisked away through some portal and I don't know where I am.
Peace to you, my dear, and a belated (and genuine) best of the New Year to you and yours. And to everybody else here. Thanks for the shoulder.
kazoo
Willow, my dear, what's new with you?
poster:kazoo
thread:16966
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20020112/msgs/17004.html