Random Life Blah Blah

So Saz is with her friend Nancy right now, and my friend Andrew. They went to the beach in Yorkshire yesterday and it’s raining today. I want to go do something, it’s about 1 pm or so now and the daylight is wasting – what little there is of it. I think I’m going to go visit my father’s grave today because I have a lot to say to him, then head off to Burger King because I’m hardcore craving onion rings right now. Why? I have no idea. I smoked almost an 8th of weed last night, thinking it would help me relax and for the first time in MANY years – it didn’t. I’m so fucking stressed over my mother being in the hospital, I don’t know what to do with myself.

I might pop in on Dan at work tomorrow, who knows. I finally sucked him into getting a Gaia, and trying to get him to get a Twitter as well. I know, I know, Twitter is evil but I find it a lovely virtual catharsis being able to blurt out random thoughts and just be as random as I want to be. Right now, I don’t even know what I’m blabbering about. I’ve had no sleep and at this point, I don’t think I’ll be getting any. I’ll just have to stay up as late as I can. Maybe I’ll grab some of those energy drinks and see how good they do keeping me awake. Do those things even work on a caffeine addict like me? I guess we’ll see, huh.

I’m supposed to be seeing Des this evening, she’s going to head off and get Guild Wars and come play with me since our little virtual love nest in Warcraft is fucked up. I suppose I’ll get my warcraft back eventually, if I have to buy a retail account. I’m really falling in love with Guild Wars, though. I think it’s going to be my new love.

I’m almost out of tobacco.

I finally named my kitten. Her name is Schatze, and I think it suits her very well. She’s been the nameless kitten for almost two weeks and it’s about time we give her one. I give credit to D for giving me the idea for the name, we were thinking about it and discussing her – and I said, ‘She is so precious’ and D said, ‘Well, why don’t you call her precious, then?’ And voila, she is Schatze. Not original, but it’s cute and I don’t think I could handle having another cat called Engel. I’ve had six already. Sigh. Time for a new chapter in my life of owning cats.

I bought my mother a gift yesterday, for when she gets out of the hospital… It’s a plush Yorkie, it’s a bag – you unzip his back and put stuff in. The opening isn’t very big but it could be something cute she can throw her wallet and some makeup in. I almost bought myself one, but in the shape of a Rottweiler. I’ve always been so in love with my rotties, they are very much my breed. Figured it would be a cute make-up bag for the bathroom to sit on the back of the toilet or something – you know, something that didn’t actually look like a make-up bag. I might go back and get it, I don’t know.

I feel like I upset D last night, but maybe I didn’t. She and I had a lot to drink and I said something about a female friend, and it seemed like she immediately didn’t feel better after I mentioned it. I don’t know if she took offense to me mentioning my female friend or if she really just didn’t feel good because she had so much to drink. She swore up and down she was fine, and was talking to Dani and I. It was pretty late too, almost 3 am when she left. She rarely ever stays up that late with me, but I still can’t shake the feeling that she’s upset with me. I know I beat myself up over a lot but she and I are very connected and when she’s upset, I usually know. I’m getting that vibe right now. She promised to pick up the game, come home and play with me for awhile but somehow I think she’s going to email me and tell me she doesn’t feel well. I hope she doesn’t, I have my heart set on a little time with her.

I go to therapy tomorrow for my legs, and I’m really very reluctant to go. Not because I’m worried about it, but it’s such a waste of time and it’s so very painful. It’s an hour drive there, we’re there for not even 45 minutes, then an hour drive back. It seems like something we could do at home, and save the trip once a week – you know? I don’t know. My left leg is almost healed, so I’m really pleased with that. I hope it heals up very soon, so I can concentrate on my right one because that’s the side with the bigger, more painful wound. Sigh. It’s been almost two years, I’m very much done with this skin disease crap. You have NO idea. It’s got me depressed, and in pain, and feeling like less of a man a lot of the time so I can’t wait to just be done with it. You can believe me, I’ll be taking very good care of my skin so that this never, ever happens again. This has been hell and a half.

/end random blah blah blah.

Mummy Dearest; Hospital Volumn 1

I sit here, absolutely astounded at how fucking NUTS my mother is sometimes. I took her to the hospital friday, I _finally_ talked her into going and only on the merit that she was so week from little sleep and sickness, she conceeded. I finally got her to the doctor, we walked into the hospital and the nurse at the front desk took her into a wheelchair. By the time they got her into the back, she was shouting at the nurse to stop sticking her with things and having a complete wobbly. I almost wanted to walk out and pretend I didn’t know her but that’s my mother, I couldn’t do that… but if she was anyone else? I totally would have. That was Goddamn embarassing!

They finally got her sorted, and she was laying in bed. I went back out to my car to get some lip balm for her to keep, on my way back – she was screaming again, but this time about how the nurses are evil and are trying to kill her, and screaming for help. Well, she was doing this because they were trying to feed her and she swore up and down they were trying to poison her. At this point, she was very medicated. I sat down next to her and asked her to eat something, and she looked at me and said ‘Who are you?’ My heart sank right there, and I swallowed hard. I told her I was her son, Gabriel – and she argued that her son was only a teenager, there was no way I was her baby.

It made me feel awful, and I went out to the car and cried a great deal before I could drive. I was hysterical, I never thought a day would come where my mother would look me in the eyes and not recognise me. I know it’s the meds talking but that broke my heart into itty, bitty pieces – you have NO idea. I’m really don’t know what to do. She’s on quarantine until monday or tuesday, depending on whenever they decide to lift it – they think it’s possible it could be swine flu, they’ll know today whether it is or not.

Yesterday afternoon, they drained her lungs because she was pooling and they put her in bedrest with sedation. I can’t go see her but at least I can feel better that she’s being well taken care of, even if she isn’t the most cooperative woman alive. One of the nurses there, is one of the nurses whom took care of me while I was in the hospital last January – so I know I can trust her. I just really am worried, and miss my mother… All I can do is hope like hell everything turns out okay and she comes home beginning of the week.

Queen Mother.

I’m such a nervous wreck right now; I haven’t been eating or sleeping properly and it’s not a wonder why. Everytime I lay down and close my eyes, images of my mother in a coffin, a grave or dying in front of me play out in my dreams. As I said in an earlier post, my mother is very much my hero and my inspiration in life – with her being this ill, I have no idea what to do with myself except shake, worry and pace the floor.

I spent the entire night with my mother last night, I had dinner with the kid, Dani and Saz and then took a walk over to my mothers. I opened the front door, went in and put the kettle on – then wandered off to find my mother, who was where she should be, in bed. I crawled in bed with her and put my head on her chest, as I’ve done a million times before. She played with my curls, and scratched behind my ears as she always has done. Brought back memories of sleeping in mum’s bed when I was six – I just closed my eyes, laid there and purred contently.

But during all this, I could definitely hear all the fluid in her chest, so I calmly but firmly told her I would prefer if she went to the doctor and got looked at, because she isn’t young anymore. 75 is nothing to fuck with when it comes to diseases, you may be strong but fluid is the beginning of pneumonia and I do _not_ want her having pneumonia. By the time I was done pleading, I was on the verge of tears because I’m so scared for her.

She just ran her fingers through my hair, and said ‘Silly boy, stop entertaining such silly ideas. I gave birth to you, your siblings, survived over 50 years with your father, world war 2, a stroke, a heart attack, alcoholism and so many other things… a little cold isn’t going to take your mother down, my angel boy.’ I didn’t know what to tell her except, I loved her and need her around. Things didn’t sound good and I had gone through med school, I knew what was and wasn’t sounding good. She just shook her head and said, ‘Son, I’m so glad you never persued that and became one of those silly doctors with their silly pills. They aren’t good for anything except making money for doing nothing.’

I gently reminded her I would be dead if it wasn’t for doctors over my skin disease and she goes, ‘But I’m not bleeding with open septic wounds, Gabriel. I have a cold, that is all. Please stop worrying.’ I told her I was still worried and she couldn’t stop me, she just smiled and patted my head again, and said ‘Oh my baby boy, you never quite did grow up, did you… Still the same little boy who always overreacted about everything.’ If it were anyone but my mother saying that, I would have been furious but my mother has this way of making everything sound like a cake walk. She has this gentle, mother’s voice and way of stroking your hair and touching your face and you just can’t be angry at her.

I’m truly and honestly worried about her, so I’m going to be off here in a few minutes to have another night with her. Crawl in bed and talk or watch telly, until we fall asleep. I sincerely hope that I can convince her to go because I am going out of my mind, all of this is effecting my eating and sleeping schedule, as well as other things in my life.

Saz’s best friend and her boyfriend Andy brought my mother the biggest bouquet of orchids I think I’ve ever seen on sunday, and I truly found that to be just be the sweetest thing I’ve seen in ages. Someone who doesn’t know her but cares enough about Saz and I to know how much my mother means to us, and to our family and what a wonderful person my mother is (most of the time, mother’s are never awesome all of the time.) I even had someone from chat light a candle for her. Des, of course, did…but Des loves my mother as her own and they have not met face to face yet, she calls her mother still. I am so very worried, I’ve been through so much with my mother… and we disagree but I still love her because I wouldn’t be sitting here without her. It tears me up inside to think that anything might happen to her and I can hardly eat or sleep over it, so I do ask that those who have bothered to read this thing – please pray for her. I love her so very much and I need all the help I can get for her…

Little Bunny FooFoo.

Right now I am having the biggest issue with stupid people and their fucking up religions. I have had it up to my fucking eyeballs with ignorance and the inability to – no – let me rephase… and the lacking of WANT to learn. I’ve been studying theology for about 30 or so years now, been a practicing witch for going on 35. I’ve been a part of several religions, studied about every one I could get my hands on and spoke to people within those religions. Now, the reason I even bring this up is because I have been a part of the online Pagan community for well over 10 years now, probably closer to 13 or 14 years. A couple years ago, I joined one that I frequent now and the amount of ignorant, willfully fucking stupid and naive people just shocks me!

I have been a top contributor to this site for quite some time, I spend most of my time online in their chatroom helping newbies, explaining religious beliefs and paths and generally telling people it is how it is. Sometimes there are arguements, and sometimes there’s just very intelligent people whom are thirsty for knowledge. Now I’m not Wiccan, never been Wiccan but I’ve been around Wiccans for a very long time. My very best friend on this planet is an Alexandrian Wiccan, and he’s spent many, many years to get to where he is in his path and studies. He even has affiliations with a Witch Queen in Cork.

So here’s the thing, I’ve spent the past 12 or so years that I’ve been online – but more so the past 5 or so, watching all the little kidlets trod along and read a Silver Ravenwolf book and they automatically think they’re a Wiccan. What about all those people who studied under a mentor, worked hard to get initiated? It’s absolutely trivialised by the little Neo-Wiccan wannabes who can’t accept the fact you aren’t Wiccan if you’ve only read one book.

I find it absolutely offensive that people who have not been initiated into a traditional upline running around frivolently calling themselves Wiccan. Wicca is only about 60 years old, and that’s really pushing it – it’s a baby of a Goddamn religion. Gardner when he created the religion, he meant it to be an oathbound, strict initiatory religion. All of the inner court material, to this day, is still oathbound to those whom are initiated into traditional covens.

Those books you can find in any new age section in any book store or library is only outer court material, no matter how secret it says it is. The true core of Wicca is oathbound, so therefore, if you are not in a traditional coven – STOP CALLING YOURSELF WICCAN. It’s absolutely degrading and minimalising all the hard work the real coven initiated Wiccans have done. Look at Catholicism, you can’t just walk into a cathedral and say ‘Hey look, I believe in Jesus, I’m a Catholic too!!!11!1!one!1′ WRONG – not going to happen. You have to go through an extensive conversion process or the Catholic church is NOT going to recognise you. So all the Neo-Wiccans in denial need to get over it and start calling themselves Neo-Wiccans or specify they are ’studying Wicca’ and not really Wiccan.

I believe a religion should be practiced the way it was intended when the founder begins, not ‘doing what feels right’. Wicca is such a strict, guidelined religion and everyone seems to think ‘Ohhh loook, Carefree, tree-loving. Lalalala, I like to cast spells and frolick around a bonfire! Yay for Wicca!’ WRONG again. I certainly don’t see Neo-Wicca as any less valid than Wicca, so I certainly don’t see what the label ‘Wicca’ is so important for. These fluffies are running around demanding their right to be a solitary Wiccan and be recognised as Wiccan because they’re ‘doing what feels right’ and ‘following their heart’, but saying you’re something and being something are two different Goddamn things. I can say I’m a lemon cupcake but that doesn’t make me one, no matter how much I believe it or how right it feels.

Neo-Wiccans provide a very important role in the Pagan and Wiccan community, and I see them as just as valid as the next path – so I want to know why these people NEED to be called Wiccan? Why do you NEED to be recognised as Wiccan when you’re not following the religion as it was meant to be followed, when you’re not doing anything but labeling yourself something you aren’t and don’t even have the proper information to worship in the right way. Neo-Wiccans advocate for Wicca much more, they do a lot more for getting out there and putting the word out about Wicca, spend time doing festivals and all the other things initiates cannot do because all their free time is eaten up by coven activities. So why the hell is ‘I’m Wiccan, how dare you tell me I’m not Wiccan!!one!!1!!’ the common arguement with these people? They can’t give me ONE good reason, because there ARE none. Wicca is what it is, Wicca is many things and ‘doing what feels right’ is not one of those things.

Don’t EVEN get me started on Christian Wiccans, or the ‘Wiccans since birth’ or even better the ‘NEVER AGAIN THE BURNING TIMES!’ sorts…. or even the famous ‘I was related to Mary So&so and she was burned as a witch in Salem’ and all the peoples who mouth off on things they do NOT understand. Fluffies piss me off even more than the Wiccan wannabes. Fluffies make me want to invent a machine that allows me to reach through my monitor and bitchslap them so hard that rainbows shoot out of their ass. ‘An it harm none do what ye will’ is merely a suggestion, it is IMPOSSIBLE to go through life without harming someone. I had someone a bit back tell me that it was possible, all you had to do was think out all the possible outcomes to each situation before acting on them. Excuse me, but… what the fuck? You’d never leave your sofa, you’d be thinking of outcomes for the rest of your life and even then, you would never think of them all because there’s this variable called free thinking. You, nor I, nor anyone has ANY idea what other people are thinking or what they will do… so ‘thinking of all possible outcomes’ is quite possibly the most ignorant thing I’ve heard in a very long time. You know what else? She started spewing this because I was explaining the Satanic rules ‘If a guest in your lair annoys you, treat him cruelly and without mercy’ and ‘When walking in open territory, bother no one. If someone bothers you, ask him to stop. If he does not stop, destroy him.’ I was elaborating on what they mean to Satanists in respect to real life – which is basically, ‘If someone directly bothers you, ask them to stop, if they do not stop, act accordingly.’ Ergo: Tell them off and tell them to leave. This somehow evolved into a conversation on whether if someone apologised, if they were given a second chance and I was explaining that me personally, and my experience with the Church of Satan, most will not give second chances when it comes to disrespect of family and their home. This woman jumps in the conversation saying that I was mean and breaking the Rede (which I clearly stated I do not follow) and how not forgiving someone and giving them a second chance was harm, and that made me a bad person.

Now, see, I’ve had plenty experience with people like this… the Wiccans who find themselves holier than thou and 99% of them are those fake Wiccans I mentioned before. There are the occasional few who are initiates but most who are, are actually intelligent people who are non-judgemental and actually use their head for something more than a hat rack. I have been told to leave a few Pagan sites for being a Luciferian, and been told I was evil and scary – and even the old goat and baby sacrifice stereotypes have come out with Wiccans and Pagans and GEE! I thought these were the people who were supposed to be non-harming and non-judgemental. Yet they love to moan and complain about how persecuted they are, but they will persecute the first person who disagrees with them or suggests that the world isn’t all pink fluffy clouds and bunnies hopping in a meadow. I had another encounter with a woman who claimed to be a Wiccan for ‘many many years’ attack my friend Maruska because her son is in Iraq, saying that the soldiers in Iraq deserve to die because they are breaking the Wiccan Rede… and that they are not fighting for our freedom, the only freedom we need is in our minds. I cannot grasp the entirity of how fucking stupid that statement is even now, it truly hurts my brain. She was advocating for world peace, and didn’t have the sense to realise that humanity will always have conflict as long as we live and breathe on this Goddamn planet but I suppose ignorance is bliss and I totally support ignorant people to stay ignorant because it’s more fun for me that way – making fun of the mentally incapable twunts is endless entertainment.

I could go on and on about this for hours but I truly need to stop, I just had to get that off my chest.. it’s been pissing me off for years and I have ranted and raved in forums and chatrooms but it’s only bits and pieces here and there. I never actually sat down and just blurted out all my thoughts about it in one place, and I have so many other religious peeves but those will have to come out in the future…

Sleepless Stresses.

I sit here and I’m thinking of all the negative things going on in my life, and I find myself being so thankful for all the WONDERFUL things in my life. I have really horrible health, but things could be worse. I’m far away from my kätzchen but I could not have her at all. I suppose that it’s all in perspective but sometimes it’s very, very hard to see it out of the immediate perspect of one’s views. I don’t quite understand why I can’t just have normal emotions like other people, or normal logic like other people. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, or if there is something wrong with me – is it other people?

My mother is very ill right now, she started out with the flu and now her lungs are filling with fluids. I’m terrified out of my fucking mind and I don’t know what to do with myself. I know she’s elderly, and I know she’s not in the best of health but I cannot lose her yet… I’m not ready to lose my mother, I need her still… she’s my best friend in the entire world.

I’ve been having really bad dreams the past 2 weeks. I’m pretty accustomed to nightmares but these are of my mothers grave, and her in a coffin and it’s really distressing me. I’m almost too disturbed by it to want to try and sleep. Everytime I close my eyes, that’s what I see. My heart is so on the verge of shattering, I’m going to fall apart… that’s what is happening slowly. I’m falling apart. I haven’t slept in nearly 3 days and that’s without the influence of coffee or cocaine – just pure fear of those dreams. I am so fucking worn out, you have no idea. I feel _so_ very raggedy right now.

In the recent months, I promised myself I would never fall in love online again and somehow – someway… It happened. I fell head over heels for someone I hardly knew, and that’s so very weird of me. We discussed a lot of intimate things, he even came to me with things that he didn’t want to discuss with his girlfriend and I felt like that was something special. I’m _still_ not sure if it is, or was, special. He has said next to nothing to me in several weeks, and I’m feeling terrible led on and heart broken… and almost used in a way, like my feelings were toyed with for amusement. There is nothing to suggest he did this to me but after 2 weeks or so of hearing nothing, my mind is wandering and it hurts with every passing hour.

I don’t know why I get myself into these situations, I had no intent on even ever persuing it… at least, at first, but I began liking him more and more but now I’m thinking ‘What the hell am I doing?’. I made a vow of no more people in my relationship and I have no intent of even adding another, and I really want a closed relationship. I have enough problems with the 3 I have and I don’t need another, and causing issues with the other 3. I really need to seriously comtemplate that question, and analyse and re-analyse before I make my final conclusion. I cannot take anymore broken hearts and I’m so close to one right now, I feel absolutely sick about it all. What the fuck is going on in my head? Harmless flirting and I’m actually liking him now… I don’t even know what the girls would think of that.

I didn’t get much time with D last night, and now she’s making me promise to lay down and try to sleep because she’s worried about me and my health. I won’t see her tomorrow because she has a meeting at work tomorrow night, and I didn’t see her for almost 4 days last week. I feel so nauseous right now, I miss her so Goddamn much. I haven’t been away from her this much in ages and it’s killing me. My chest is tight, my head hurts, my stomach is in knots and every muscle in my body aches. I feel so awful, I need her… I want to crawl into her lap and just lay there right now. She always knows how to make me feel better, even the little bit we spoke over the phone before she opened the school today made me feel a little better. She’s my ginger guardian angel. Sigh.

I’m thinking of walking over to my mothers house, crawling into bed with her and just sleeping with her tonight. It’s been ages since I have, and I could truly use that closeness to her right now. I spent sunday night, then all of monday and tuesday with her and came home late last night. I had intended to go to bed when I hung up from speaking with D but I laid down, dozed off, had one of those nightmares… upon waking up I looked over at the clock and noticed I’d only been asleep for 35 minutes. So I laid back down, and tried to go back to sleep and laid there for what seemed like 5-6 hours – again – looked over and I’d only been laying there for a bit less than an hour. I think time is fucking tormenting me, and mocking me.

I have no idea what I’m even babbling anymore, I’m so sleep deprived that everything is blurry and my whole body hurts. One of Saz’s cats ran off out the garden door this morning, and I tore the hell out of my right foot trying to help her find him. I’m sitting here typing this with the blood pouring from my toe all over my hands – it’s dried and I’m just feeling so absolutely lethargic that I cannot motivate myself to get up, or even attempt to gather the strength to go shower… or at the very least, wash my hands and change my pjs since they’re covered in blood as well. Where I was walking on the bottom of my pjs, and the pooling blood under my foot soaked and possibly ruined my brand new pjs. I’ll just have to wear them with the blood stain, it’ll be goth vampire chic?

This is just turning into a sleepless zombie rant and I should totally stop right now. I’ll write more later when I wake up.  I’m restless and in pain, and I think D is right… sleep is what I need, but I need her too. If only I could curl up next to her instead….

Feline is where the heart is.

So I have been slacking on writing this for a week now, and it’s time for my to try and let it all out. Last wednesday, Engelchen, my maine coon of 11 years hung herself by her collar. She was my favourite cat, and very much my baby. She had my heart, and it’s hard to let go of a pet when they’ve been your fur-child for so many years. I absolutely put a lot of emotions into my pets and spoil them rotten, so I’m feeling very empty at the moment.

Engel was a striped maine coon, she adored me – she slept on my pillow, we shared dinner every night and she took a shower with me every morning. So I’m feeling a really big hole in my life that she filled with her purrs and nuzzles, the love she gave me cannot be replaced. That cat had been through tons with me. I picked up a new maine coon kitten today from a lady in Chelmsford. She’s an adorable soon-to-be 8 week old kitten, she has no name yet but I’m glad to take any suggestions.

It’s been such a long time since I’ve had a kitten to myself and it’s such a wonderful, warm and fuzzy feeling. I suppose that will make me look soft but I just love kittens so much. I love cats, in general. I’ve always felt so connected to felines, and it’s always been a very spiritual creature to me – be it large or small. White tigers have always been my very favourite creature on this planet, such majestic and regal animals. I adore my tarantulas but nothing will _ever_ take the place of cats in my life. I’ve had cats since I was a very small boy, and I will always have cats.

I’d like another black maine coon, my new kitten is striped like Engelchen was so she reminds me a lot of a baby Engel – which is comforting and painful, at the same time. I’d also absolutely love a blue or blue cream coon, perhaps a tortie. I love maine coons so very much, they are such intelligent cats… and so very affectionate. I still have my heart set on getting a cornish rex one of these days, but that will have to be in the future once we can rehome some of the rescues we are housing right now.

With 47 cats in the house; 4 of those being kittens, there’s just far too many cats in the house and some of them are getting neglected – I don’t like it when cats can’t get one-on-one personal attention. I want them to go to a place where each and every one can get snuggles and pets, and not get accidently overlooked… and it’s so very easy to overlook one when there’s so many in the house. I’d like to take it down into the 30s, at least. Saz cried when I told her I was rehoming them, she sold 9 in January and was hysterical for weeks about it… I told her we didn’t have to rehome anymore, but I have to take that back – I can’t allow the cats to get neglected. I feel bad it will hurt her feelings but I hope she can take peace in knowing they will be spoilt and loved, and there will be plenty of room for us to take more again.

Now I shall be off to go feed my new nameless baby!

Mothers, what can you do?

There’s a saying that goes something along the lines of, ‘However a man treats his mother, is how he’ll treat his lover.’ Now… I, without a doubt, believe that is generally true. I completely love my mother with all my heart, she’s my hero and my Queen. I absolutely can’t think of another woman I look up to more than my beautiful, sweet mother. She’s done more for me in life than anyone I can think of; lover, family or friend. I’ve been living next door to my mother for 19 years, and I cannot imagine moving to a place where she’s not a five minute walk from me. She’s totally my best friend, we talk about everything – from the daily news to sex – even to this very day. I bring her flowers for no reason, I visit her often – just to visit with her… we even go out to live shows and clubs together, and she’s 75 now. I have a lot of family I can’t stand, and that irks me deep down because I think family is _very_very_ important. It bothers me that I have family that is intolerant of anything outside of their own views and beliefs, and walk through life with blinders on. Most of my family back in Deutschland is very much like that. One of the family members, my tante Olga, is one of the most hateful people I’ve ever known in my life. She thinks her belief is the only belief, that Jesus is going to save her from her sin and it’s okay for her to take the rights of God only, and judge people. She thinks she has the right to verbally tear people down for being different, for being not like her or just doing something she doesn’t care for. She has no compassion whatsoever and it’s just the most disgusting thing to me. I cannot grasp people who don’t love their fellow man, and give people a chance. Being set in your ways is one thing…. and being a closed minded, hateful bitch is another thing.

I took my mother out last night to dinner last night, and she asked me – as I brought her home and walked her to the door – if I would come in for tea… I was running late but I agreed anyway because, well, it’s my mother. So I went inside, took my coat off and sat down and my mother brings me a cup to tea… she sits down next to me, and puts her hand on my thigh and says, ‘Gabriel, my sweet son, I need to ask you a question’… I said, ‘Sure mummy, anything.’ She hesitates and then proceeds to ask me if I’d accompany her to Deutschland to visit my tante Olga for two weeks. I said, ‘Mum, I love you but you know how I feel about Olga… she’s never been kind to my children, to Dan or to Saz – let alone been kind to ME…. No, sorry, I won’t.’ She flipped her nut, told me that I was being unfair and hateful because I didn’t want to go spend 2 weeks with a woman who told my lover, who is of Jewish descent, to go put her head in the oven because that’s where Jews belong. That my children are an impurity to the human race and should have been aborted. I hate that woman with the burning passion of six suns. I dislike hating people, but that isn’t warranted. Her bigotry makes me feel ill to my stomach and my mother has the audacity to ask me if I want to visit her. We got into an arguement that lasted 45 minutes, til I finally said ‘Look, i’m done with this subject… I’m going home’ I kissed my mother on the cheek and left.

I hadn’t even been home an hour before she phoned me, to tell me how out of line she felt I was being and how unfair to her I was being. We got into a long, heated arguement that lasted almost 2 hours. Somewhere in the beginning, I admit I said something I shouldn’t have – I got angry and told her I was sick of the subject and hoped Olga died for all the horrible things she’s done to me and my siblings, and her own children. My cousins are very close to me, and they are both Olga’s daughters – and the things they’ve told me she’s done to THEM is despicable. She then went quiet, and informed me she wanted to go see Olga because she’s terminal. Don’t I feel like an asshole? Yeah, I do… but I still can’t stand the woman, am I wrong in that? I don’t think I am but apparently she thinks I am. I know she’s my mother’s sister but the woman is hateful and a complete bigot. I don’t think I’m in the wrong for declining, I’m sick and I can’t afford a trip, nor do I want to be away from my family for such a shit reason as visiting a family member that I cannot stand. That may sound selfish but I have other siblings, and I also have both of Olga’s daughters around – my mother could ask them and she chooses me, knowing how I feel about her, and I think that was very inconsiderate and insensitive of her. I may be wrong, but I truly don’t think I am.

/end bitchy complaint

Sex, love and self pity.

Dani, Saz and I have been having problems and I really don’t know how to handle it. It’s truly doing my head in, and I don’t know how to control my feelings and emotions anymore. I’m not sure what to think of myself, and how I’m behaving and how my body is behaving – let alone, those two wanting me to explain it when I’m not even sure myself. I’m usually first to jump online to blog, brainstorm and hope for that epiphany that comes with blurting all your thoughts down into text… but it took me well over a week to even find the motivation in typing it down. So I suppose here’s where I go into a nonsensical rant about everything in my mind at once, and leave everyone to figure out what the hell I’m talking about, right? Well, here goes nothing….

I find myself not acting like Gabriel, like the person I know myself as. I’m taking my medication regularly, I just had my dose adjusted as anyone who takes psychiatric medication should every so often and I still feel awful. The meds were helping for a bit, then my doctor changed them… then changed them again. So I know it isn’t the medication, at least.. I don’t think it is. This isn’t a medicinal complication like I’ve ever had before, anyway. I sat in my office, and did a few lines this morning. Not the smartest move, but it’s the first time I’ve felt ok in almost 3 weeks. That’s really sad when recreational substances are the only thing to bring you satisfaction. Dani and I have been off for a bit now, and Saz and I have been -REALLY- off. She wants sex quite a bit, and I really don’t know what to do about it because I’m not in the least bit interested in sex right now. I suppose it may have something to do with the andropause because loss of libido is one of the effects of andropause, but with the influx of the testosterone medications I’ve been taking for awhile now – I’d have hoped it would help that particular feeling because my sexuality is a big part of who I am and me not having sex is like a fish not swimming. Not for perverted reasons, really.. I’m just a very sexually open and expressive person. I think it’s very natural, and very normal to enjoy sex and be honest about it – I don’t think sex is anything to be ashamed of and should be openly discussed. I don’t understand the modern world making it a taboo thing, it’s as normal as eating and sleeping.

I suppose I’m just overly open and really don’t have any morals – I mean, even my own mother calls me ’slutboi’. I really don’t think that makes me a bad person, though. I mean I’d estimate that I’ve had several hundred lovers in my life and most of them have been male – a great lot of them pre-op transsexuals but still have a cock, and I really am thankful to the powers that be that I don’t have AIDS or something similar by now. I really have a guardian angel looking out for me. Dani and I have been lovers for 35 years now, and I love him every bit I did 35 years ago, and more… but right now I’m feeling absolutely repulsed by sex for the most part. Every once in awhile I get horny and want to do something about it, and it’s usually not WITH someone else. I won’t lie, I have been having phone sex with Des quite often but that’s not being close to her, I technically am just masturbating but still being intimate with her at the same time – I don’t know, that probably doesn’t make sense but it does in my head. I’m not really nervous about it, but I feel like I could be doing better and don’t want to disappoint with the fact I’m not doing my best. I tried to sleep with Dan a few weeks ago, and we went at it for four hours and I didn’t even really enjoy it. I didn’t even come close, and he got his several times in that period of time. I finally said, screw it, glad you had fun but get off me, I’m going to bed. I just feel like a complete sexual failure, at the moment and that’s a huge blow to my ego as a Dom.

Why do I put so much stock in sexuality? No idea, but I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I equate emotions with everything – including sex. I find it a way to express physical love, and to ‘make love’ to your partner. My disinterest makes me feel like I’m slacking as a lover, and as a spouse in showing them how much I care, that I’m lacking in expressing to them how I love them and making them feel good, and ABSOLUTELY slacking in satisfying them. Like I said earlier, sexuality is very human and we need that sexual contact. Saz is in the middle of depression because she thinks she’s not beautiful because I don’t want sex with her, and Dan thinks I don’t love him at all because of it even though I tell him often. Saz gets told constantly how gorgeous she is, and I wish she’d believe it because I’m absolutely blessed with having such an angel in my life. She’s a living doll and doesn’t realise it, and that’s really part of her charm but it’s also a con as well. It attributes to her sadness and I absolutely HATE her being sad or depressed. She’s my baby girl and I’d do anything to make her smile, and she knows that but she seems to have forgotten it in her recent wallows in the self pity puddle. I can’t deny I wallow in that same puddle quite often and lately I’ve been practically living in the puddle.

I realised a few weeks ago, upon watching a show about celebrities here in the UK climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro for charity. It got me thinking, I thought to myself “Gods, I’d love to do that but I’d die on the first day I’m so out of shape,” and then I honestly started realising how unhealthy and out of shape I _really_ am, and how the doors of opportunity to do a lot of things I’ve wanted to do in life, have closed on me. I’m not a young man anymore, and despite being young at heart and not your typical 40 something, it doesn’t mean I’m not middle aged… and I certainly have been feeling ‘middle aged’. My back has been hurting like a motherbitch, and I have arthritis in my hands pretty badly – and it’s only getting worse. I just ache and creak, and generally don’t have the energy I used to have and I feel so positively sad that I wasted the good part of my life snorting myself stupid. Given I still do dabble in ’self-medicating’ myself, it’s nothing like my former drug habit where I was doing several kinds of drugs, several times a day. It’s a treat, if anything, anymore. My health certainly can’t handle it anymore than once in awhile, but I can’t completely give it up at all either. I suppose that might make me weak but it’s one of the only things that stops my mind from working against me, none of the prescribed chemicals actually do that. It just quiets it down for awhile, and it plots against me in silence. Sigh.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me anymore, but I certainly feel like less of a man… A lot of it has to do with the andropause, I know it does but I think a lot has to do with my depression over my legs. The sickness has been within me for almost two years and I just want it gone, so my life can go back to being somewhat normal. I’m tired of constant bandages on my legs, the pain, the doctors visits for debriding… it’s all just the biggest burden in my life, and I know its my fault for ignoring the cellulitis in the first place so I can’t really blame anyone but myself – and within that, I have no right to bitch about it but having a skin disease with constant pain for as long as I have is bound to do a number on the mind after awhile on _anyone_. It plays with your sanity and emotions, and you begin to feel like a freak because your illness and pain is hindering you from having a life and living life in the fashion that you’ve become accustomed to. I just want to go back to my job at the funeral home, I’m tired of doing the home paperwork and being the accountant – I want my mortician job back, I want to get back to aspirating bodies and being hands on. I can’t handle this working from home, being a desk jockey crap. It’s not me; I’m not a paper pusher – I need to get my hands dirty. I feel useless, like this illness has rendered me less of a human being than I am and left me feeling subhuman, like some sort of crippled mutant. I don’t expect anyone to understand that but that’s truly how I feel right now, like I’m some sort of weak embarassment to everyone now. I’m not the big strong man, protector and successful bread winner for the household anymore, Dani is. He’s been paying for everything because I honestly can’t pay myself as much as I was for the little crap I do on the computer filling in paperwork and doing the accounting. It’s not enough to live on and still keep luxuries, so Dani has been spending money to keep us in our luxuries and I feel somewhat jealous of that, like I should be the one spoiling all 3 of them, not him. Silly, huh? Gah, I suppose I’ll get over it, it’s just my mind won’t shut up anymore.

I suppose I should stop typing before this turns into anymore of a novel…

/end meaningless blah blah blah

Without You

It seems as if the world had stopped…
Pale moonlight luminating the darkness outside
Seeming to peer down through the window
While I lay silent in bed,
With you in my arms…
I dreamt of you and your laughter in the pouring rain.
How it seemed to light up even the most gloomy of days.
You hold a certain light inside that I’ve never seen before.
Skin so soft and fair with hair pitch black…
She looked like a slumbering Snow White.
So serene and content, warm beneath these blankets..
Ginger touches on your face and you stir beneath my hand.
Each and every touch shows how much I care.
With a soft sigh, you lay your head against me with a smile.
Gentle breathes in time with mine, you look so beautiful laying there.
“Can this be true?” I think to myself.
Such an angelic soul, so kind and full of grace…
What you’re doing here with me, I will never know.
But when you look at me,
In your eyes there is a light that shines,
Brighter than any of the stars above.
I would do anything for you, my love.
I would bring every single sparkling star
Down from the sky
And place them in your hands,
If ever your heart so desired.
Even when my heart is full of sorrow,
And everything seems hopeless,
Just the words “I love you” from your lips
Can take all of that away.
Every moment spent with you,
is a memory I lock away in my heart.
There will come a time when I grow old
and many things will slip from my mind
but one thing I will never forget…
is the way you love me now.

© Gabriel Krueger 2007

Salvation

The sky stormy and gray, the air crisp and cool… a gentle breeze, enough only to tickle your face with your hair. It felt as if the world stood still for a moment, lacking the time to gather itself together. A heavy day, indeed, as if the sky would fall upon me at any moment… I know not what I feel deep inside but it’s unsettling and I can’t sit still. Crows perched in the dying trees beyond the rooftops, cawing their usual morose tune – mocking me and everything I stand for. “What do you want from me today?” I think to myself as they dance about on the twisted and bare branches. The spindly limbs reaching for the Heavens as if in an desperate last attempt for mercy, I almost hoped they would reach their destination one day so I could climb them and find my place.

The children laughing and playing, oblivious to the ominous clouds gathering in the sky. Darker and dark until it devoured the sun in the misty gloom, smothering every last ray of light. Noticing one by one, they look up and wonder from where the billowing darkness came. Even the crows have stop cackling amongst themselves and an eerie silence covers the once jovial square.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
The church bells chime, and our overcast Heavens open up and begin down upon us drop by drop. I hear someone calling my name, in between the ringing of the bells in my ears. I turn only to see an angel dressed in smoke, her long raven hair flying in the swirling winds. Putting one foot in front of the other, I’m approaching her without realising. She gazed down upon me from her perch upon the church steeple, raising her hand and pointing a long, lacquer tipped finger in my direction.
She need not say a word to me as she lifted her arms, holding a deep red flame in the palm of her hands.
“Why?” is all I could manage to mutter.
She simply smiled, “I have come to bring you salvation from your sin… from your pain… from your agony. I am the bringer of the inferno that will cleanse this wretched place of the human woes that taint it….”
Without a seconds pause, she closed her fingers into a fist – extinguishing the flames.
“I have come to bring you the mercy that you have prayed for, sweet soul.”
“This is not salvation,” mustering a more displeased tone.
She raised her eyebrows, “I do not believe I asked you for your opinion of salvation, Only stated that I have brought salvation to you. Do you accept my mercy?”
“NO!”
“Very well then, watch the innocence burn away and the flames char every shred of decency you have. Worry not do I of your feelings and sentiments, your soul is mine and you will burn with the rest.”
I blinked for a moment, thinking it would only be a dream before looking around me at all the rooftops in flames. The screaming, the sound of suffering and agony that were not there before. Absolute tragedy as far as the eyes could see…
“Suffer if I must, but they should not. I am the one with the heavy heart,” offering myself to her.
“Only fire melts a icey heart, dark one…” She smirked, “and only sacrifice is the proper step to salvation.”
Before I could draw another breath, I could no longer see for the fire.
Incinerated by my own sins.

© Gabriel Krueger