Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

3:40am. I can’t slow my heartbeat. It’s escalating. I drink some water. 3 more sips. I take a walk outside. My head is pounding with too much information I’m trying to sort into truth, lies, and I-don’t-know categories. I want to take a warm/hot bath but it’s too soon. The incision isn’t healed completely. My heart is shattered into a million pieces and I put back together 1000 a day, sometimes 2000. I’m making some headway but it’s not relieving my headache. I’m stressed to the max. I’m so concerned more people will needlessly die tomorrow and the next day and the next and on and on. I need a trip to the ocean to listen to waves. I need a trip to the mountains to climb and listen to myself panting until I reach the summit. I’m staying away from airplanes and trains. No bus stations for me. There’s a deadly virus and I’m trapped, trying to get out! I need to swim a mile a day but the gyms aren’t safe. I found a free stationary bike but it won fit in my car. I need people! I need hugs! I need music and art and paint in my hair and splattered all over the walls and floor but I can’t do that because I might need to sell my house and and go nowhere anywhere somewhere. I want to write a song. I need new strings for my guitar. The piano’s too loud. 3:50am. I miss my children. They hate me for no valid reason. It’s literally making me insane. I love my children so much! I don’t know who I am anymore, I want to learn to play the flute but I can’t breathe. I have asthma and rejection. I need a lover or a night out at a cafe with live music. I haven’t seen live music in a year. I haven’t taken myself out to lunch since last March. Everything I know about life right now is through rumor or truncated headlines. Can I borrow your rototiller? I need to make a garden of wildflowers, tomatoes, cucumbers, and avocados. Maybe some romaine lettuce. I’d like to take a boxing class. I need to swim. It’s 3:56am. Democracy isn’t working. Capitalism is defunct. Many people lost their jobs, their businesses, their homes. I’m grateful for the roof over my head but I don’t know how long it will last. Everything is temporary. Do you want to take a walk on the beach? Bring a blanket or two. It’s cold. I’m tired. 3:59am. 1 minute to bedtime. I hope you believe in something. I don’t know what to believe in anymore except love and sleep,

I believe in both.
This week kicked my ass.

Me too. Mine too. Sigh. Tired. But I don’t think we have time to be tired! So glad I got my new hip. Might need to run! Not totally recovered, but if I had to run to save my life, I will be totally recovered in short order! Scary shit these days. Hope we get to the inauguration without another event but I suspect protecting ourselves from these crazy events while trying to stay protected from a deadly virus is our new reality.

Ugh

life is challenging in ways many of us never ever expected
few could think to plan for a pandemic, and it has kicked our asses
and for those that live alone it's been particularly brutal
i still have a partner for the short term but she will be leaving soon
we had a good run....two pretty good years....but nuthin lasts forever
I miss the hugs and laughter up close and personal...can't get into
the zoom thing....many friends are doin' it but not this quasi-luddite
the budget, the budget, the budget....or mostly lack there of
I keep cutting back. but ain't mush wiggle room anymore.....heart
seems to working okay....lungs not too bad...haven't checked the liver
and kidneys lately....I totally get the mantra, A day at a Time
what else can a poor boy do....old folks should be pooling their resources
bring back the communes.....

communes and commonalities
a good plan
just need like-minded folks

on the kibbutz
our communal spot
is trying to re-brand
these folks are wanting a new model
more capitalism
less socialism

i don't get it
don't they see Eden
right here and now?

your mission should you decide to accept it is too survive this winter of discontent

I must sleep ten hours a day but never more than a couple of hours at a time. Four hours straight through is a good night's sleep for me. I wear a sleep tracker ring to monitor my sleep, also a smartwatch to monitor ECG, oxygen, and heart rate. It shows a fib, cardiologist wants me to go to a heart surgeon but I am listening to still small voice —not to go. At 81 I just don't think I should go. I have been dodging calls from my doctor who wants to put me on insulin, I will lose commercial drivers license if I do, and that is my meal ticket...so I don't call her but I need to get covid vaccine soon.
My brother the headshrinker asked me if I have got the covid vaccine like I told him I would last week. I can tell he thinks I am crazy when he goes silent.
if you can't sleep do something else like writing?
keep on writing
Papa Hemingway had his typewriter and shotgun, Virginia Woolf had her friends and rocks in her pockets.
i got studio eight and jelly donuts

(My heart has been shattered in pieces for awhile, after I learned the truth of us, which is war. Our nature. I know better, but I'll never prove that in my lifetime.)

studio eight
doreen's asylum
for the terminally brokenhearted
geezers thrive on broken hearts

beautiful poetic stream of consciousness Doreen!!! gracias for sharing!!!! I never had problems with sleep... till today the formula always was: more nervous, more trouble: 9 hours of instant-automatic-autosleep and it´s ok... no drugs or teas for that... it seems it´s a natural gift to wander other worlds when it feels necessary jiji....with love, well... I´m an easy walls & bridges builder (both of them... ).I agree with you with live music: last night I assisted (and celebrated & thanked so much) my first alive concert in one year... in the local anfiteatro under beautiful stars and half moon... Pedro Aznar was given amazing online concerts from his home during the year and it was also his first alive concert since the dark ages... lovely!!! and as his last album says it´s AHORA or maybe never or who knows when... Big hugs!!!!!