My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

So, today was a pretty bad day. I was watching Dr. Phil, Las Vegas meth-head tunnel-dwellers. Really, just this mom who abandoned her four kids to go live in a storm tunnel with a fellow she met in rehab, who she married. They had a pet rat, a ferret, a big bed, and a lot of junk that would wash away every rain, backpacks clothes, whatever they’d collected. I was, you know, riveted, but all of a sudden I was breathless. I couldn’t breathe. My vent started alarming, and I could not get my chest muscles to move. The vent wasn’t doing its job. A hose fell off.

Obviously, I didn’t die, but it reminded me why I always feel time.

Right now, I’m thinking my vow, especially the latter part, is going to be really hard to keep, but I’m hoping that it’s one of those things that gets easier as you go. مراهنات Like almost dying, then not dying. We’ll see. I think it would be really embarrassing to fail this one. I just don’t want to end a washed up, waste of craft, muttering to myself, K.J. Bishop and Jeff VanderMeer used to read MY blog… I’m pretty fucking close to that end now, just teetering on some invisible line. العاب بوكر اون لاين I want some distance from that line. استراتيجية روليت

This year has felt paint drying slow, yet it also feels like September came in a blink. Every single day is lonely, tedious, but then, “whoosh, it’s September!” It’s a weird feeling.

Anyway… I’m going to make to you readers (whoever’s left), and to myself, a two tiered vow. I will succeed or fail, in public.

I vow to post something of substance every single day in September, and I will work to fix what is broken in my life, passionately, earnestly, with every breath God (or for my Atheist friends, my ventilator) gives me. My vow for September.

Will I succeed? I don’t know, but I can try. I can totally fucking try.

So, last night was a good night on Twitter…

Aimee Mann favorites one of my tweets, again!

It’s so cool that today we really have a shot at interacting with our heroes. I count song-writers, only the best song-writers, in the same vein as novelists. To me, song-writers are akin to flash-fiction writers, and good flash is just as powerful as any novel. Aimee Mann is one of my top six writer heroes, her use of craft is beautiful. Her words make me want to push my craft as far as I possibly can, then just a little further. Many of her words are etched into my skin, they’re always with me, they’re that important to me.

I’ve met Aimee in person once, and she was totally kind, totally, just, real. I’ve also gotten to tweet with her a bunch of times, she remembered me from seven years ago, she’s always absolutely nice, and three times now… she has favorited something I wrote! I swear, each time is so exciting, I could just fall over.

Yes, I’m a nerd.

What to write? I don’t know. I used to have things to say, or maybe I just had things that I felt were worth saying. Maybe I just have no one left to give any words, and it’s all just too much loss to bear. I mean, yes, we writers like putting everything on a big stage, put it all out for anyone to read. Though, we often do it for just one person. We want this person to read our words, know our souls, and love us for it.

What’s the point without that person?

So, we are now running WordPress 3.6. Whenever I do the “auto-update,” I always skip the backup steps, I never backup my WordPress files, or my database. اربح مال من الانترنت Whenever I upgrade WordPress, there’s always a TINY chance that something will go terribly wrong and destroy the blog. موقع مراهنات When my database needs upgraded, I think to myself, “If the power went out right now…” Still, no backups. Why? Faith in the process? Laziness? It’s a little of both. I also feel like this blog is going to end when it’s supposed to end. العاب ربح نقود حقيقية

How do I save this blog?

Can I save it?

Okay, I’m not dead. I’m around, somewhere.

In the last few-ish months I’ve had facial nerve damage surgery, new facial nerve pain AFTER the surgery (which luckily went away after a few weeks), two weeks of nausea after they replaced my feeding tube, until I got THAT feeding tube replaced, a trach tube that cut off my airway, turned me a nice shade of gray (not the erotica kind), and…. I now have muffled hearing in BOTH ears.

I didn’t feel like writing any of it at the time, it’s not very interesting.

Oh, two nights ago I super, I’m talking professional idiot-style, crashed my iMac. No backup, no safety-net. I should be back on it by 6:30 am, est.

Anyway, I’m around, and I’ll be around more.

Tattoo by Fish, Doc Dog’s Las Vegas Tattoo, Ybor City

So, this tattoo is from a Priscilla Ahn song, City Lights, Pretty Lights, from her really spectacular second record, When You Grow Up. City Lights, Pretty Lights is sort of a dream-like folk version of PJ Harvey’s Dress. You get all prettied-up, you go out, hit the the town, but it’s all just dull, empty. You’re surrounded by people, and energy, but in your head, and in your heart, you just feel alone and lifeless.

I often feel this kind of empty, especially lately. My face hurts every moment of every day, I feel weak, and it’s all very lonely. I feel wrung out, hence the tattoo.

Oh, on a side note… This was far and away my most painful tattoo, but that’s part of the pleasure found in tattoos. It’s a decadent, delicious pain that strengthens the memory of getting the tattoo. I like when they hurt, it’s totally different than pain that’s forced on you. It’s a pain you choose because you know at the end, you’ll have something lasting and beautiful.

Tattoo by Fish, Doc Dog’s Las Vegas Tattoo, Ybor City

So, this tattoo is from possibly my favorite Aimee Mann song, It’s Not, which is off of one of my top ten favorite records, Lost in Space. It’s Not is also possibly the saddest song ever written.

When I got this tattoo I was thinking about the last line of the song… “…and I believe it’s you who could make it better, though it’s not… no, it’s not…” That line, I always see Monica’s face when I hear it. I see her face, and feel the wasted years, and I wish so hard that I could take it all back, but I can’t. I wish I heard the song the way I hear it now, way back when, the first time I looked in her eyes.