For whatever reason, I became bored and dissatisfied with this site. I neglected it for nearly a year. After another deep-dive into the rabbit hole of the indieweb, I am filled with the desire to have and maintain a personal website once again.

Which means that, as per my M.O., I’ve been spending way too much time reading through CMS and static-site generator documentation.. Trying to find the perfect, F/OSS, self-hostable solution to having a web presence. And of course, the perfect solution doesn’t exist. So, I’m allowing myself to just pick a poison and run with it. Make that two poisons. I’ll drink from both founts for an undetermined length of time which will hopefully give me insight into which system I prefer. [ That length of time turned out to be roughly 4 months. ]

…

This has been building up in my psyche for the past couple months.

Forgive me if it is incoherent or just a wall-of-text.

I don’t want this isolation, see the state I’m in now. ~ Gorillaz “Humility”

I’m lonely. Deep in my soul, long dark tea-time, kinda lonely. It’s becoming increasingly overwhelming and unbearable. For most of my life, I’ve been alone and quite comfortable existing in that space. I had friends around and even lived with my sister for a good chunk of my adult life, so I wasn’t lonely. I picked and chose the times I would spend with others and otherwise would keep to myself. I am an introvert, tried and true. But I still had pretty consistent human interactions with those I cared for. But then… my meth use became known. The events of 2018 went down and I did my tour of mental health in-patient. I gave rehab a try and discovered that sobriety doesn’t fit me well.

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I hate learning things about people who I interact with but don’t neccesarily know personally. Today, I learned one of the homeless customers has no toes. Won’t be able to think of anything else next time I see him.

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I’ve been trying to keep my mind distracted. in order to fuel some level of generation and energy flow, I’ve been using my wiki to flesh out the world of Tuesday_NeXT and some of its underlying concepts and creatures. I started out using DokuWiki a little while ago while my summer-fling was hot and heavy with MindMapping.

DokuWiki hasn’t really panned out in the personal daily use I was half-assed giving to it. Didn’t have enough to say.. That time has helped some concepts and use of wiki kinda seep into my brain. How linking pages and domains sorta makes sense but then my head just breaks.It’s a perfect match for me for creating and cultivating a fantasy world.

…

I get extreme weird pleasure out of pulling facial hairs out right by the corner of my mouth. I discovered this when I first started growing a beard. The follicles have this gunk at the end of them that lets me stick the hairs to anything I please. The feeling once I’ve plucked them out is divine and only serves to drive me ritual of pulling out hairs and sticking them on things.

…

Usually, I don’t like to write for myself when I’m depressed. Unless I’m being angsty and bitching about some situation, I have no desire to leave a record of my depths. This isn’t my usual depth tho. I’m back at weighing the pros and cons of continued existence. I hurt on many levels and there doesn’t seem to be any way to soothe the wounds.

Mom and Terry are almost finished building their house in Clifton. Estimated time of their departure is a little over a month from now. This is still being processed in my mind. My mother is leaving the city and is moving to a location that I have no means of reaching on my own. Our weekly dinners will become monthly ones. The house I grew up in will be sold and another portion of my past (also my version of normality) will be lost to the passage of time.

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A major lesson in my life right now, that I’m still not fully comprehending, is staying out of the way and letting things happen like they should instead of how I think they should. My time here at Family Dollar is serving multiple purposes: both monetarily and therapeutically. And I keep getting anxious and find myself slipping back to old, ungrateful, habits. Staying in bed until the very last second, counting minutes while on the clock, stealing as many breaks as possible.. All of which just serves to make myself miserable and unfocused.

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For most of my life, I have been a gamer. The SNES and Genesis¹ were huge parts of my child hood. When the N64 came out, I almost sold my soul to acquire it. Up until The Thing That Happened, I was regularly playing Overwatch with friends online and causing general mayhem wherever we went.

Then The Thing That Happened came along and I lost most platforms I previously had to game on. I also lost most of my interest in playing games, found new focus on meth and jacking off instead. I had my android phones and didn’t really see any games that intrigued me in the sea of click-bait and idle tap-tap games in he Play Store.

…

I am getting used to the routine. It goes a little something like this:

• Days I work:

  • Try to wake up around 7am to get ready to go eat breakfast at Samaritan House.
  • Catch a zipzone to SH and eat breakfast and catch a zipzone back to the hostel.
  • Play around on my phone, either a round of Wild Rift or Dead Cells or Legends of Runeterra for a couple hours.
  • Take a nap until it’s time to get a zipzone back to work.
  • Walk to the pickup and hope that I get Alfred or Ruth as a driver this time.
  • Usually, I woke up late so I get to work a little late.
  • Work and work and work. Time goes by relatively quickly still. 10pm never comes fast enough tho.
  • Catch the #1 down Hemphill to Berry and walk the rest of the way back to the hostel.
  • Climb into my bunk bed and strip to cool down.
  • Play a round of Wild Rift until I fall asleep.

• Days I don’t work:

  …

There is a spirit inhabiting the store I work at. It made itself known to me the first time I worked there. It doesn’t seem mean or feel threatening, it simply likes to knock shit down occasionally. It likes to make itself known.

Today, I was checking a customer out (both literally and figuratively, the fellow was FAF¹,) when a display by the door abruptly tumbled over sans physical contact. The ghost² once again seemed to feel the urge to be known by we other occupants. It was the largest display of selfhood from the haunt I have been privileged to experience to date. I wonder who it was trying to express itself to.. What did it want to say?

…

Could it stop being a good day? I’m not used to this level. I’m not used to this level of blessed. Blessed is not a phrase I throw around lightly and easily. When someone responds to the question “how are you?” with “I’m blessed” or, even worse, “blessed and highly favored,” my initial reaction is to roll my eyes.

Not because I don’t believe them, but because I hold the belief that every being on this earth is blessed and highly favored.. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be here on this planet. We are all blessed just by our continued existence.

…

Here’s another first in my life: I’m homeless. Literally and figuratively: homeless. I have no home, no room, no any-sort-of-shelter for myself. It’s Friday night now and this happened on Monday. Really, the happening happened over the course of the past half year or so. I allowed myself to become bitter and sullen and nasty. I treated the staff of where I lived like shit, and didn’t make any concessions towards improving myself any-more.

…

Being significantly less sure that what is on my pants is poop is in fact the same as being significantly more sure that what is on my pants isn’t poop.

…