Monthly Archives: August 2018

The PMS Post

I just had a dream that I was pregnant.  I wasn’t pregnant with just one or two babies, no, I was about to give birth to a full litter!

I slept until a little after noon and woke up to my office manager texting negative shit yet again.  Day in, day out, it’s always negative, never positive, and always aimed at making me feel miserable.  I finally spoke up to her about it and haven’t heard a peep back in the last hour.

I can’t take it anymore.  But I wanted to make sure it was actually her and not me before coming to any conclusions and after careful thought, respect and consideration (it taken me months of analyzing), it’s definitely her.  No doubt.  And it’s been salting my brain into malcontent.

I want to get away so bad.  To take off on my new bicycle and hole myself up in the woods somewhere.  Everything would be so perfect in my life right now if I didn’t have her negativity with its scathing talons hanging on to the morbid bits of business ownership.  Yes there’s a lot of fucked up shit to deal with but no, I don’t linger or complain about it – I DEAL with it.  Like I do with everything.  You can’t spell Ideal without I DEAL.

There’s a Katherine Hepburn quote from the Philadelphia story that states:  “The time to make up your mind about someone is never.”  And I’ve lived by that directive even before hearing that quote.  I put people in the grey area of possibilities rather than definitive statement colors like black and white.  But when it effects me personally, I need to see the definitive in order to make a choice.  Choices can’t be made in the grey of that which you can’t see your up from your down.

I set a date for my bicycle excursion.  September 23rd.  I have nothing going on for those 2 weeks.  I’m no longer nervous about this trip either since I’ve ridden the bike a few times already.

But since I’ve been dealing with negativity for at least the past 6 months now, I just want to borough myself inside my mattress.  I don’t want to hide under the blankets, I want to go INSIDE my mattress.  Maybe hiding myself under the bed would be easier.

Today is definitely the peak of things.  I want to close my eye lids until they cover my toes and then keep closing them until they reach the other side of my body.  So I’m like a tight little eye-lid ball that can float on water and be lost at sea.  I can be my own Wilson.

Away away away.  Just get away away away.

Writing about it seems to be putting me deeper in this funky melodramatic trance.  It’s like my bedroom is this squishy warm orange box of languid dreams coming to life.

Which reminds me….I did mushrooms a few weeks back.

It’s funny how “I did mushrooms” takes on a different meaning than “I ate mushrooms.”

You don’t eat the mushrooms I ate.  You DO the mushrooms I did.

Still though, nothing is cleaner than ayahuasca’s pristine potency.

Hallucinogens to me, always tell me the same thing; the drug will do exactly what you think it will do, it will act in accordance with how you expect it to act.  Many people treat ayahuasca as a medicine, so it acts as a medicine and gateway to the soul.  Everything served up just the way you expect it.  If you treat it as a drug however, it will act as a drug – making your body feel limp and listless and heavy.

I played around with this for a while once the shrooms kicked in.  Testing the dexterity and fluidity of my mind, seeing the tricks it plays and senseless riddles that take up the spaces in-between.

“Everything is exactly what we want it to be.  Or expect it to be.  Or believe it to be.  Everything else that exists outside of this fact is meaningless.  This is the one true rule, all else is meaningless.”

Entering into the shroom-verse places you in the grey area of ambiguity – it crushes your beliefs into meaningless glints of ash until you realize it was you doing the crushing the whole time.  Not the shrooms, but you.  You are the mushroom.

People with anxiety, psychosis, neurosis, those people have more beliefs and expectations than anyone – that’s why they so fucked up.  They concoct a story that they believe is real and if something doesn’t fit into their story, they twist and manipulate until it does fit.  In the meantime, they can’t see what’s really happening in the real world – that what they’re doing is in fact meaningless and all for nothing.  It’s like building sand castles.

Attachments have everything to do with it.  They want to dig a hole deep enough and wide enough to put everything they value inside so it stays protected and soon enough their walls are so high they can’t see shit outside themselves.

And that’s what each person is to me – a hole.  Mostly everybody is a hole of some sort.

Like if I’m trying to take a stroll on the beach and I keep having to hop over sink-hole after sink-hole so not to fall in.  Each sink hole is equipped with its own reality.  And that reality can be manifested by just one person, or there could be entire groups down there numbering in the thousands, and then sub-holes dug deeper for a few of those special elite “clique” groups.

I like to stay on the surface of things.  That way I can stay amused and unaffected.  But after being bombarded with negativity practically non-stop these past few months, sometimes you need to kick some dirt in another mans hole.

Dammit, I think I’ve gotten myself depressed.  I want to sleep and to be left alone for a while.  Today is an actual day off – I haven’t had one of these is a while.  I need to buy a sleeping bag for my bicycle trip and I need to buy new clothes, I keep having to wear the same stuff over and over.  But then when I find time to run errands, I’d rather nap all day or play video games if my friends don’t gobble up my time first.

Stress makes me immobile.  I may be doing absolutely nothing, but in my mind, it feels like I had to cope with grueling circumstances all day – no real rest – no real relaxation – no serenity or peace.  Just a bunch of big beefy military men playing soccer inside my skull all day while I try to relax – the physical pain and fatigue are real.  There’s no escape from it.

According to the shrooms however, it’s my own making.  I’m choosing to fixate and be negative and stressed out.  I’m choosing this.  But my rational mind, even though it’s aware of what it’s doing, says to me, “Just a few more minutes of it….that’s all I’m asking….just a few more minutes and I’ll be done.”

Done with what exactly?

Rational Brain – “Trying to understand everything that’s happening, why I feel the way I feel, and how I can control it better.”

You’re just digging a ditch though, by doing all that unnecessary busy work.  You’re digging yourself further from reality.  Put down your tools and step on up here.

Rational Brain – “Okay, but I really am tired.  I really want to stay here and nap.  I’m too tired to climb out just yet.”

You’re impossible to work with Rational Brain.

Rational Brain – You’re talking to someone who wants to be a soccer ball made out of her eye-lids and be called Wilson….you have your work cut out.

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It’s now the next day.  I just got my period which explains a lot.

I don’t know if it’s my age or that I don’t exercise anymore, but my PMS has been off the charts these last few months.  Painful bloating accompanied by extreme fatigue and crabbiness.  I never had it this bad when I was younger, but I was in better shape back then.

I have to go to work to count all the candles and soaps that my friend is selling at my business.  This sucks.  I feel like shit.  And she wants her money so there’s that too that I have to contend with.

I better publish this shit before another day goes by.

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My Bike Hath Cometh

I’m looking at my new electric bicycle as we speak.  It’s standing in my bedroom all decked out with its tan leather seat and hand grips.  It’s so shiny and perfectly white and clean.

It’s not the first time I had a 2 wheeled vehicle in my bedroom.  The first time I did this, it didn’t exactly pan out.  I had to put my scooter out to pasture.  But second time’s a charm, right?

I can’t stop ogling it.

I had it delivered to work so I can save $100 on shipping and then I rode it home shortly after unpacking it.  The ride home was easier than I thought considering the current state of my fat ass.  but then again, it was only a mile.

Soon, I’ll have to try doing that with 430 miles.  My crotch will be humming a different tune I suspect.  Humming bloody murder.

Okay so, I have almost everything I need for my bicycle trip to Bar Harbor.  The stuff that I don’t have just yet is in the mail.  One major thing I need is a new shorter seat post which I ordered yesterday.  The post that came with the bike is built for a giant, something I wish I knew before I bought the $55 upgrade for a suspension seat but other than that, I’m in love with this bike.  It’s truly beautiful.  A work of art.

I wanted to take it out for a spin today but I’d most likely kill myself since the seat is up so high.

I’m always waiting for something….

I’ve been burning the candle from both ends these last few weeks.  I drank so many Bud Lights that I can no longer drink Bud Lights.  Ever again.

Either I drank too many Bud Lights or I’m going through my “change” because I completely switched to IPA’s and I HATE IPA’s.  And it happened overnight!  17 years of drinking Bud Lights only to switch to a beer I loathed during my whole drinking career.  Why do I not loath them anymore?  Why?

Two Roads Little Heaven is my new beer of choice.  As bitter as a grapefruit peel that one.

I can’t stop looking at my bike.  It’s just so lovely, so perfect (aside from the tall seat).  I want to stick a playing card in its spoke.

Here is a map of my journey to Bar Harbor:

All the campgrounds, motels, and bike shops are readily displayed so I can’t miss them.  Courtesy of the Bicycle Route Network app partnering with Google Maps.  I wouldn’t be going on this journey if not for this app.  I am a sublime idiot when it comes to following directions.

This trip is unlike any other that I went on.  You see, most of my trips involve a plane.  I buy a plane ticket that comes with a set date to travel on but with a journey such as this – a journey that doesn’t involve buying a ticket to far away lands….setting a date to “take off” is a greasy creature to capture.

Me – “I’ll do it tomorrow.  Yes, I’ll be ready tomorrow.”

Then tomorrow comes and I be like, “I’ll do it Tuesday.  Yes.  I’ll be ready by Tuesday.”

It doesn’t help that my Mother is against this trip.

I have to take this trip sometime this month.  My office manager is quitting by the end of the month (it’s a long story.  I won’t get into it until after she’s gone), so I need to take this trip while she’s still here to help.  Not to mention I don’t want to go when the weather starts cooling off (I don’t have a sleeping bag and I’m only bringing a silk liner).

And, if I don’t go now, I’ll never go.  I might have to miss Kristi’s bachelorette party but I’ll be able to make it to her wedding and my family reunion if I leave as soon as I get my short seat post in the mail.  Which means I’m leaving soon.  Really soon.  Completely unprepared physically, emotionally, and mechanically if something breaks down, I’ll not know how to fix it.

Most of the people I told about this trip all think that it’s some fantastic feat – a beauteous harrowing journey of divine coolness only partaken by people with guts.  But it’s not!  It’s the complete opposite!  I’m only going on this trip to get away for a bit, enjoy the country and camp out but mostly I’m going because I’ll regret it if I don’t.  I’m more scared of NOT going on this journey.  I’d rather make a shit ton of mistakes than do nothing.

Everyone’s making a big deal about this trip but to me, it’s not a big deal.  I’m excited and scared as hell, but in the grand scope of things, it’s no big deal at all.  And it’s only for a couple weeks.  No big deal.

However, next year for my cross-country venture, that’s a different bag of worms.

Last night as I was falling to sleep, a song kept repeating in my head.  It was a song that’s been around for a while.  Really catchy.  But then I realized the song was completely made up in my head while I was drifting off.  Two words I remember from that song.  They kept repeating over and over.  And those two words were Star and Tonic.  Star Tonic.

I just Googled Star Tonic and found out that it’s a type of marijuana strain.  I swear, I never heard of it before in my life.

 

 

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