In The Wings

"Red Rover! Red Rover! We're a going down..." - T.O. Hob

Where did December go? I've only posted three times this month. I've been a bad blogger. I know I had my excuses, I had to come to grips with a certain story because I have this obsession with closure within the calendar year, and an even greater obsession with finishing certain stories before I start others. But even that was over a week ago and I've only posted once since then. I just can't seem to get back on track.

Maybe it's because the blogs I read have become somewhat boring. Nobody posts anymore. Between my four favorites they have exactly three posts in the month of December. Some of the others seem to be searching for themselves, while others seem to think they have found themselves (although I assure you they need to still be looking). I need to know what's going on people. You're friggin' killing me.

No one comes here anymore. Well, some people do, and trust me I do keep track now, but the readership now lacks the numbers and the variety I once imagined it to have. And considering I was only imagining like five people a day that's saying something. I fear the readers part of this blog has run its course. But that won't stop me from writing.

I'm having a tough couple weeks. Usually my real life is quiet while the world in my head is exploding, and when real life is crazy the world in my head gets nice and calm. I've lacked that zen balance thing for a bit now. Everything's going apeshit.

And that's what I'll be talking about for the next little while. But for right now I want to share two little stories.

I bought an Ipod last week. When my father found out how much I'd spent on it he went through the roof. He knew it was none of his business, and he had no say in the matter. But he still prides himself on butting in on relatively insignificant matters that have nothing to do with him. I think it comes from the fact that he's never really been a major decision maker in his children's lives. He couldn't even be the disciplinarian with me because from about the age of 12 he knew I could kick his ass, and the only kind of discipline he ever understood was physical. So he yells and screams about the Ipod, and then, realizing there's nothing he can do about something I already purchased (and enjoy immensely) he decided to get all Machiavellian. If he can't scold me he'll find a way to piss me off. One little tantrum about the Ipod turned into a four day stress-fest that resulted in me quitting (again) and the rant that appeared here on Friday night. I'm absolutely convinced that I was asked to fire two people (although they did have it coming) strictly because I bought that damn Ipod. The man has the conscience of Satan. My father is going to take every good idea I've ever given him and use the...to someone else's benefit, jut because of this damn Ipod.

So after the lecture about how something like an Ipod is a waste of money (which, well let's face it...) what does my brother ask for for Christmas? A friggin' Ipod! And whatsmore, my father is not only getting it for him, but he sounds excited about it...and he specifically asked for what accessories I had with mine so that he could buy the kid the stuff one level up.

I really do love this place. Where else would the world so eagerly play into the hands of my fears and insecurities?

Last night I dreamt of oddities I may never be able to explain. But the Angel which has so often graced my dreams, is absent as of late making every dream just a little less pleasant. But last night someone took her place. Someone else walked through the slightly skewed world that exists only in my head. I enjoyed the change of pace immensely. Although I can't imagine anyone else would have been nearly as thrilled as me. But last night's dream companion carried words of caution which left me reeling...because afterall how frightening is it when even your dreams try to convince you of something you've long been deadset against?

"Where have you gone, my fondest of friend?
Where will you be tomorrow?
Why did we stop...and not start again?
Why don't you share in my sorrow?"
- T.O. Hob's Ballad