My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

Nothing of import happened. I started writing too late to even write anything boring.

I have a much longer post in the works, but I have to note, it’s astonishingly sad that mass-shootings are becoming routine in America. Today’s mass-shooting in San Bernardino, California, makes for seven acts of horrendous gun violence in just five months. This time, at least fourteen people are dead, seventeen are critically-injured.

Thoughts and prayers to the victims, and anyone affected by this vile act of mass-killing.

I’m aiming to write more…

Today was just not my day. I couldn’t focus, nothing new.

So, it’s December… This has been an astonishingly fast slow year.

December’s always my favorite time of year, even if the previous eleven months were total shit. The optimist in me never ceases to believe, to have actual faith that, if any part of the calendar could hold some kind of magic, it’s December.

So, my domain is renewed for another year…

I am in a serious, serious slump.

Tattoo by Kyle, Doc Dog’s Las Vegas Tattoo, Ybor

So, we come now to tattoo #82, a lyric from one of my favorite songs, not just by Aimee Mann, but by anyone. The song is off of Aimee Mann’s fourth studio record, Lost in Space… the song is called, It’s Not.

It’s Not is really quite a sad song, yet very beautiful. It’s about being stuck, stuck without a way out. Sometimes life just doesn’t go in the right direction, and it feels as though it never will. It’s a horrible place to be, it’s horrible to feel utterly stuck, knowing deep down that nothing can pull you out of that blackness. I’ve visited that blackness, many times, too many times, and Aimee’s lyrics capture that blackness so completely. She describes such an awful place with beautiful words. Perfect words.

Now, even though It’s Not is astonishingly sad, it still holds happy memories for me. It played many evenings while someone I love slept peacefully with her head against my shoulder. I sang it to myself with a voice no one will ever hear as I looked into her eyes under a clear night sky one cold New Year’s Eve. I could get so lost in her eyes… she really did make everything and everyone else just an afterthought.

She’s gone, yet I miss her everyday, love her everyday. It scares me to write gone, scares me that I’ll never again hear her voice, or feel her asleep next to me… her soft warm breath against my neck.

I don’t want never, I want to go home.

So, it took me a bit, but I finally installed Mac OS X 10.11, El Capitan, and it’s really spectacular. El Capitan is basically Yosemite, but refined, polished… stable. Everything seems to run more smoothly, apps launch faster, OS-related animations are more fluid. I like the more robust Notes app, the subtle changes in Mail, Safari, and the new form of app management called, Split View. Split View is the sort of feature you didn’t know you really needed until Apple gives it to you. It allows you to work with two apps side-by-side, each occupies half the user’s display. So, you can, say, drag links and images from Safari into Notes without leaving either app. It’s really cool, I use it way more than I expected.

El Capitan feels the way OS X should feel, the dev team is redeemed.

So, Mac OS X 10.11, El Capitan, is here! Feature-wise, I’m totally excited about El Capitan, yet… I’m uneasy about installing. Yosemite went so astonishingly badly, I’m just nervous. Though, as I think about it, I’m getting disgusted by my absolute cowardice. I got into OS X at 10.2, and I haven’t missed a release day update until today. That’s upsetting. I can’t let being scared dictate anything, I’m letting it dictate too much. El Capitan is just the thing I’m up for talking about right now.

Well, then, tomorrow… I update.

Tattoo by Kyle, Doc Dog’s Las Vegas Tattoo, Ybor…

So, I got this tattoo, my eighty-first, many months ago. It’s meaning isn’t meant for others, but I do keep a record of my ink. Too loosely of late.

Tattoo by Kyle, Doc Dog’s Las Vegas Tattoo, Ybor

So, this tattoo, number eighty, is a lyric from, and the title of one of my favorite Aimee Mann songs, Fighting the Stall, which is off her fourth studio record, Lost in Space. Though, it’s only found on the Special Edition disc.

One of my fears is being stuck, being worn away by circumstance and time until there’s nothing left of me. I’m scared I won’t be where I want to be before I quit breathing. Right now, that place is so far away I can’t even see it. When life takes its bad turns, it’s a fight not to get stuck, to stay stuck, to just stall out. Hence the tattoo, a note to myself that I’m fighting, and that I need to keep fighting to have the life I want.

A line from the song goes…

“…I’ll go down in flames just for the Hell of it all, ’cause I couldn’t take standing in place waiting to fall…”

That line has affected me since the first time I heard it, it’s how I try to live. I’d rather die because my vent failed while I’m on some adventure with a woman I love, than face the slow death that happens by inches over years just sitting “safely” at home. Death, the fall, is guaranteed, it’s the only guarantee time deigns to give us. I’d rather meet it on my terms than just wait for it. That’s the essence of the song, I think; make for the sky, fly high, fly hard, and no matter what, don’t stall out. Don’t die standing still.

To me, tattoos aren’t frivolous. Tattoos are permanent, even if removed your skin is never the same. I like that, I want that permanent reminder of a statement or thought or prayer. I get words or images etched into my skin that will always be important to me. It’s just a gut feeling, but certain things you simply know. I know fighting the stall is a fight that won’t ever end for me.

I’m stalled out now, but I’m fighting. I need to fight harder.