Ok..Ok..That Last One Was A Bit Self Indulgent..

...but it felt right at the time.

Here's the deal, in case you are interested.

I have pretty much given up. I exist simply to exist...to survive. What little delusion of "Hope" I had accumulated over the course of time evaporated February of 2009 and any fresh "Hope" has yet to find it's way to me or me to it. The image I chose for the preceding entry was not simply a broken heart. (That's in too many pieces to restore.) It was the overall image, the flag of surrender in a broken body and a soul that is simply quite tired.

I know...wah wah wah...the WAHmbulance is coming. Pity party and all that...get it out of your system in the comments section. I figure this will be more appealing to the morbidly curious types.

I, in all sincerity, have tried. I really have. I had a young man tell me the other evening, quite sincerely, that I loved life way too much.

If he only knew.

Less than an hour so after saying that, crap starts all over again. Reality sinks in...

I got the results from the neuro guy regards my brain and it's not so good. Seems I had some mini strokes and that the capillaries leading deep into my grey matter are hardening and thickening. My main arteries seem swell..but that's a double edged sword. Should Mr. Plaque decide to go spelunking in the deepest most recesses of my mind and gets stuck, my ability to speak is pretty much kaput.

This, I believe, is a progressive disease, much like the Obama regime.

So I have halted all medical stuff, but for the stroke prevention measures, thus passing the savings on to you, the taxpayer. A debilitating brain attack would be a new kind of hell for me. I need my faculties in order to follow my path.

Then I got the call about my stuff in storage. It goes to auction on December 4th. Everything that says "I was here"...all my interests, passions, hobbies, etc. will be sold to the highest bidder who most likely will toss the personal stuff (unless it's one of them there nosey, snoopy types) and sell off or keep for themselves my collections, past presents, mementos.

The ever mentioned "Final Straw".

SIDETRACK: Before anyone wants to disparage the storage place, the woman there has tried to work with me on all this. I am simply without resource nor tools to alter the finale.

So why hang around to see that happen? Things are adding up to my conclusion. I had 2 opportunities to let this transpire over the last 14 months. The first shot was Oct. 5th when I had my successful heart attack. I held off any help for a long time and only caved in when the thought of my oldest son watching me die in front of him popped in my head. Then I had 911 called into action.

The 2nd was my go 'round with diverticulitis. The intense pain I was suffering made me cave in to going to the E.R. and letting them have a go at me. If I had gone on one more day, they said, it would have ruptured and Peritonitis would have moved me to my condo in the sky with a view and Triple Play FiOS.

I had planned for today, Monday Nov. 15th, to be the day I start working in earnest of my personal "Kolinar". (google it)

To stop eating.
Focus on my direction.
Let go what hinders me.

SIDETRACK: I had actually planned on begining this a while ago, but McDonald's brought back The McRib! Now it can be said: McRib Saves Lives!

As I go through this emo-dump, I am surprised at what I am finding affects and moves me. Who knew? Certainly not me! One of the odd effects is not being able to watch this season of "House, M.D." because of 5 words Dr. Huddy let fly at the end of last season's finale.

Go figure. Anyhow.....

The signposts are all there:

My solitary source of nourishment closed it's doors yesterday. It was not only my eatery, it was a sort of home. The proprietor and his family all but adopted me. His younger son gave me a memento and started sobbing as the doors were closing and I took my leave. The littlest one was falling asleep as I got to say goodbye.

It was sad, no doubt. Closest situation I will ever have of being a Grandpa.

I'll miss the games of "Slapjack".

My diverticulitis is acting up significantly. When I was hospitalized with it this past spring, I was not allowed to eat or drink anything for nearly 7 days. Thus, fasting now even under the best of times, would be called for.

I also find myself thinking about what I'll miss, post 98.6:

Billary splitting the DNC into shards when she challenges Barry for the Presidential nod in 2012!

Going to Disneyworld as an adult, not a parent, with a significant other of the female variety on my arm. Then later, back at the room, she dresses up to look like my dream girl, Arielle, confesses that Prince Eric is actually gay, only loved her for her voice until someone played Judy Garland for him, and now spends all his time with his man servant in The Study listening to Judy belt out show tunes! (I mean, c'mon. Did you see the sequel. He wouldn't even get his toes wet to save his daughter!)

And she craves a REAL MAN!

I am dressed up like John Smith from "Pocahontas". The images are endless!
(Yeah, I know Mel Gibson voiced John Smith. But my imaginary s.o. is neither Russian nor bears me any offspring)

If the N.Y. Jets go to The Superbowl. They are on F I R E this season!

Traveling in Ireland, England, and making faces at The French.

The capture of bin laden.

The conviction and imprisonment of Charlie Rangel and Maxine Waters.

The Inauguration of President Palin with V.P. Bobby Jindal at her side.

The imagination spins.......

I had hoped to be out of this area by today, the writings on the Conversion Van Of Wonders window scrubbed so as to not be so recognizable, as well as altering my appearance. I am obligated to my friend who is between driving privileges for a bit yet, so I will be roaming about New Jersey.

But right now my auto insurance is lapsed and I am stuck. How is that an issue, you may ask...

I get caught driving without insurance, my vehicle is confiscated, Bob The Van Eating Dog is in a shelter or worse, and my goals thwarted. Doesn't fit in with my plans.



As for Bob....

He will hopefully be found by someone who can take him in. As I play this all out in my head, the saddest part is leashing him to a pole with a note explaining his current state of affairs. I'd have to say that chokes me up the most. I will probably be an absolute puddle when it comes to pass. As much as he has driven me crazy, he has been a real trooper through all of this. If you happen to be the one who finds him, know you are keeping company with a VERY special dog!

"SIGNS" SIDETRACK: Subsequent to typing all of this, a girl stopped by concerned about Bob. After talking for a bit, it turns out she may have a friend who is looking for an older dog.
(Wow..another Mel Gibson reference!)





Now, before anyone figures they are gonna "rescue" me, know this. You come to visit, we can enjoy each others company and shoot the shit for a while. However, if I sense for a heartbeat your intentions are what would be considered conventionally honorable, I will bid you adieu and close my door in a New York minute. I will also FINALLY post about this guy I met and the group he belongs to y'all quote almost daily.


As much as I appreciate the sentiment, I will decline any and all Thanksgiving invitations, as I have turned down 4 already. Not doing Christmas either. I celebrate the birth of Christ, no doubt, but "holidays" to me represent a false promise of hope. If you are inclined to share your tables and festivities, check with your nearest military installation about an Adopt-A-Serviceperson program. Many have such programs for service people stuck where they are and away from home for the holidays. Also, food banks are SCREAMING for donations this year, thanks to Obama's "Summer Of Recovery" success. Please keep them and other food drives on your radar.

Who knows, I may wind up changing my perspective due to some divine inspiration and intervention and feel like a complete idiot for posting any of this. However, that seems really unlikely.

Emotionally: I am all but numb and dead already.
Spiritually: I pray daily to be called home.
Practicalities: What Obama and his ilk and regime have done, and are doing, to this nation make any foreseeable improvement in things impossible. The "Tea Party" election was great! And at some point, there will be improvement. Thing is, Barry is not as savvy as Slick Willie was. Bill saw the writing on the wall and would sign what Newt and the folks sent him. Obama is too mired in his own fantasies, delusions, and ego. He is a no talent thug ideologue that is not really that smart, whose his strings are pulled by Soros and progressive special interests.

Sage words from a guy who lives in a van! Not just any van, though! The Conversion Van Of Wonders!

Bah...it's still just a van.

Anyhow....

Until next time....