My readers are apparently gone or just a few left...hey is it something I said? What ya don't love me anymore or is it the stuff from the Archives? You prefer the rantings of a dying man "live" instead of on delay.
Did he say "Dying?"
Yeah well shit happens. Just came home from the hospital after I had to call the meat wagon again. Heck I'm getting on first name basis with the drivers, and the damned nurses.
I asked them witch doctors point blank 'that' question given my constant illness'n all. 'Know what I got?
"We need to do more tests, and you really need to take your medications more properly."
To which I answered, "...is my damned number up or what. I'm okay with it either way."
Moment of thoughtful silence...since they only tell next of kin this sort of thing at first.
"You really should have a more positive attitude towards your health."
...da fuck does that mean?
Anyway it went on that way with no hard answer. Ain't this some shit. I mentions this hoping I'll get the sympathy vote, and more readers. Ya know that may want to be there if I drop dead while posting.
Hell I would.
I always wanted to take a nice long piss in or near the British Museum.
Eh,...in the proper facilities of course.
So I'm either coming or going. Yeah most folks my age are on that tight-rope. Ya know that in just the last few months I've gone to the memorials of let's see...two...no three?
Perhaps even 'four' old comrades.
It's hard to remember them all at the same time...sue me. They wasn't 100 years old either they was in the 55/65 cohort like me. Us boomers it seems is checking out a bit early. Sooner even that our parents.
I think it's the "Strontium 90" that's in our bones from childhood. All them many atmospheric A-Bomb tests must have done the trick. That deranged suicidal bullshit us the damned British French, and Russkies was doing all through the 1950's to about 1970 or so. The fucking French were the last to stop...1972 I think.
We should invade them just for that...greasy arrogant butt-holes.
Btw the Agent-Orange poison from the Vietnam war did it's work too. Some friends I grew up with died from that years later.
My brother we now know died because of it.
It sits in your guts, and decides to give you a stroke heart attack diabetes or some other gift in your middle or late years...thanks President fucking Johnson, and Nixon.
May you both have to explain why it was a good idea to each, and every Vietnamese, and American, one at a time, that died or had deformed kids because of it...yeah you get to explain it to them kids too...get some comfortable chairs you guys are going to be busy for a while.
But I digress,...I think.
So there it is. Now you know what I know. Have a nice day.
Just got an email, and fb message,...this was quick,
This from an old comrade "Kathy O'Connell",...for you that remember the radio daze, she gave me hell for self-pity. That, and wasting my time on silly art, and faerie pix stuff. Rather I should put all my concerns into what my body is telling me, and listen to my doctors.
I understand...I get it. Also this friend during my illness has been giving me loads of "TOUGH LOVE"...which I need...sometimes.
Well my body is telling me point blank that I'm mortal...knew that. However the "faeries", and "art" are who I am, and I'll do these to the last moment. I've been a "Care-Giver" three times now. These loved ones taught me how to live,...and die.
Which is be who you really are to the last moment.
Mind you don't be a dummy about it. However to live ya damned life as ya must which will help you have when the times comes...a good end.
Which is what I'm doing.
In 'my' way...not anyone else's...my way...best as I can. This yes while loving everyone in my life...everyone.