Thinkin’ About Valentine’s Day

 atrophy by p3t3r kurt3n groupi31

7:14 am, Tuesday, February 10, 2009:

In the evening,
when I’m sad,
it’s generally because I’m tired.

In the morning,
when I’m sad,
a deep malaise has set in.

It’s morning.

Today I think of Valentine’s Day.
Today I think of being alone.

I have known two perfect creatures
since my divorce – Mika and Lida.

Mika is five hours north.
She’ll be with someone else on Valentine’s Day.
I think of marrying Mika,
raising her son,
having a daughter with her.
I think of her spunk,
her strength,
her spirit that cannot be stopped,
her perfect beauty.
She will be with someone else on Valentine’s Day.

I think of the perfect jewel that is Lida.
She’s so young.
I must let her be.
I will nurture her,
watch her flower and grow.
I will let her be.

Perhaps I can be with Jade,
so sexy and smart!
But no, she’s busy.

Or maybe Roxanne is available.
A flurry of money spent,
a normal date
turning into hundreds and hundreds of dollars gone
on what seemed appropriate at the moment.
But no, she’s busy too.

Sandy’s finally gone,
in rehab.
Reena and Lida want to let her return
without drugs
fuckin’ the lowlife pimps and dealers
she loves so much,
the same guys
who don’t have time to drive her to rehab,
who refuse to pay for her phone,
who don’t house her
or feed her.
The same guys
who sell her ass for a bag of crack.
Can’t stand her.

Reena has only one interest……..
herself……..
clubbing all night,
sleeping all day.

Sweet, sweet Mary.
Does she need $350?
Does she need it by tomorrow?
Is her affection
a love of what I can do for her?

Adriana is gone forever…….
and ever…….
and ever.

I have finally seen Maggie
to be what she really is.

In the morning,
when I’m sad,
a deep malaise has set in.

Preparation for Return to “Civilian” Dating

 

Written February 22, 2007

My psychiatrist (AS IF I NEED ONE!!!) has affixed an electro-mechanical device to my back which zaps 100,000 volts of electricity into my brain every time I think about saying the words:

“Need a ride to your crack dealer?”

or

“How much for an hour?”

I’m gonna straighten out this time.

I think.

 

The Journey Continues

Photo is “Liz teasing” from universalphoto on Flickr.com

Written February 24, 2007

Are Sunday mornings to be filled with the aroma of Caribou coffee and warm, nut-filled bear claws gently wafting throughout the house,

the New Tork Times awaiting,

a woman of integrity and honor at his side?

Or are those mornings to be filled with my screams of “WHERE IN THE HELL WERE YOU LAST NIGHT???”

Is his body so covered with burns that he thinks he can now play with fire?

Does he think he can cavort with ravenous, wild cats in their own jungle without getting savagely mauled?

Is he a 21st Century man, looking for character in his woman,

or is he a quivering mass of jelly in the presence of a cute, young ‘thang?

Has he achieved the absolute pinnacle of dysfunctionality?

Are her eyes huge and mesmerizing?

Do her legs go on forever?

Her name is Gia.

The Journey continues.

To My Mate in Leeds

Photo is “Leeds Castle” from StarrGazr’s photostreamon Flickr.com

Written March 18, 2007

My friend’s blog is “York and Roll” at http://yorkboyscout.wordpress.com/

Mate,

The Roman Stoic “Seneca” is of great solace to me.  That’s where I got my name.

He taught strength in the midst of adversity.

He chastised his own wife because she was full of sorrow when the Roman Centurions arrived to announce the death sentence imposed by Nero upon him.  He told his wife that they must live……and die……by what they had studied, and that they must not be sorrowful.  The woman chose to die with him.

Damn!!!

Unlike the Roman Seneca, I do not choose to live by what I have studied.  I myself choose women who couldn’t be more wrong.  I have pretty much gotten them out of my life except for Maggie.  After five and a half years, I’ve gotten attached.  I think she has too.

Somehow, I’ve got to get her through this.  The situation is overwhelming.

I know you are helping a friend right now in dealing with her past.  I know she’s hurting.  I know your care helps her heal.

A photo exists of Maggie in a baby stroller with a black eye.  The kid’s been beaten all her life.  She’s a human, 5′ 7″, 112 lb. punching bag.  It’s impossible to turn your back on her.  I can’t believe I threw her back to the wolves Friday by allowing her return to the jungle.

Most of all, I worry about Maggie’s health.

Jail is in her future, perhaps soon.  There are warrants for drug charges working their way through two counties for her arrest.  As she is in violation of probation, she automatically gets seven years in Cook County and one year in DuPage.  With time off for good behavior and with attending all the optional schools in jail, she’ll need to serve at least three years.

But she will be gone for three years.

At least I’ll know where she’ll be sleeping at night.

I think of Oscar Wilde being jailed a hundred years ago, coming out sick and broken, soon to die, too embarassed to ever see his wife and children again.

I think of what scumbags the inmates are here, and how we all become like those with whom we associate.

With her health that I’m so worried about and with jail a certainty, the situation seems overwhelming.  It seems I’m a caretaker in full knowledge of an upcoming disaster that is certain to happen.

There’s a class at University starting Monday night.  Maybe I can still get in.  Those people have a profoundly good effect on me.

I need to return to Seneca’s writings.

I need to get on the bike.

I wanted to summarize the situation for you and for anyone else who is interested.

Mike 

By the way, Seneca’s wife slashed her own wrists, arms, and knees.  Nero ordered that she be saved, and the Centurions bound her wounds.  She lived another couple of years, in sorrow.

I personally do not believe Seneca was a Christian, but, of course, I am an amateur.  He is listed as a Christian author by a few because of his correspondence with and respect for Paul.  Some of the correspondence still exists, but is not of great interest.  It’s more like respectful letters of admiration between acquaintences.

Fascinating stuff!

Malaise

Written April 11, 2007

A deep malaise has spread
across the Land,
or perhaps it inhabits
just mine own little world.

The women are gone,
Mika really did hurt.
Cannot yet bear to sell her car,
it smells so much like her.

Or perhaps I hope
she will someday reclaim her wheels
and everything will return
to what it once was.

But was it ever
what I thought
it was?

A few brutally truthful words from Maggie
unleashed the forces of self-doubt,
and a speeding freight train
of monumental insecurities
encompasses me.

Maggie forced my eyes
to peer into the abyss.
I witnessed the horror of it all.
I can deal with anything,
except reality.

Time for a retreat,
time to give up dating.
Time to return
to the basics
of University,
pumping iron,
and the life of the mind,

alone.

Will give a helping hand
to Maggie.
Will give up thoughts
of Sweet, Sweet Jill.
Time for regrouping.

Regrouping allows one
to begin anew,
shedding old ways,
someday, someday, someday
finding someone new.

Time for figuring out
where to meet that girl
not already married
to the Lady Cocaine,
someone whose visions are not guided
by the entrancing Jose Cuervo.

Or perhaps
I’ve given up
the chase.

Will watch my Mate in Leeds
grow in wisdom and fire.
Will be in wonder of my buddy Saint Juancho’s
ability to express her truth.

My own blogging
will be on hiatus
for a few weeks
or a few months.

But when I return,
I will stand even taller!
The girls will be
more beautiful
with even bigger smiles.
And, ohhhhh,
when they wiggle,
I will still
lose control!

See Ya!

Love,

Mike

The Shortest Hiatus in Human History

 

“Imagine Amy Road” fromwww.tituspowell.com

Written April 20, 2007

Well, I’m not dating, but I did meet a new girl (Kim) and I did get dragged, kicking and screaming, to Scores tonight.

Well, maybe I didn’t kick and scream THAT much.

So I’ve got material for a couple of stories. 

I had thought that I needed to be in anguish, rolling around on the floor, about to die from lovesickness, to have material for a story. 

Maybe not.

Mike

Hiatus Lengthened A Little

 

“Imagine Helena Casualy” fromwww.tituspowell.com

Written April 22, 2007

To My Devoted Three or Four Readers:

I was going to write a story about Kim (a woman who indeed fits in with the other women about whom I write, if you know what I mean) and then a story about the trip to Scores, seeing some of my old friends.  Well, they’re not old, but you know that!

But Maggie took up much of the night Saturday, and I will be gone for another day or two.  Those events will demostrate the utter stupidity of a male in front of a pretty girl and his ability not to see what is right in front of him.

Don’t worry.

Everyone is healthy.

All three of us.

Cough……Cough……Ahem……Ahem.

Please stick with me, as I do not want to lose 25% or 33% of my readership.

Mike

Darkness Envelopes the Land

“Imagine Elena Religious” fromwww.tituspowell.com

Written July 29, 2007

Been very sick.

Down 19 pounds in three weeks.

Can’t eat.

Mainly severe infection

with a nice dollop of existential angst,

and a small stroke,

my third stroke.

Been too sick to pick up the new prescription,

the prescription from a different doctor

that ought to cure me

and stop the pain.

Re-evaluating everything.

Triggered by break-up with Mika, I think.

Need her.

Or do I?

Maybe I can’t face the break-up.

My women aren’t doing well either.

Maggie’s in Jail.

Now even Mika may get a year,

but don’t think so.

Badder’s in Jail.

Her sister Bad was beaten this morning,

alcohol-and-crack-induced fighting,

breaking several fingers,

depressing me.

Can she ever get over

what that monster did to her

at age 10?

Trying to get her to move in with me

for protection and rehabilitation.

The Sun will rise next week.

It must.