My Sick Mind

To my recollection, I have had one blind date in my lifetime.  I’d guess that it was circa 1980, and a group of friends decided that they’d had enough with my singleness. I was told that “we have a lot of single women in our church” and that I would be in line to go out with bunches of them.  OK. So, they set the first one up. It would be me, her, and two other couples for a night out. Great. I’m not good in single-person situations, so it’ll be nice to have others to bounce the conversation off. The night started at a friend’s house, where they extolled my virtues to this unsuspecting woman. She wasn’t anything spectacular, but then, neither am I. So I figured I’d play it out and see how it goes. Once we finished the “character-building” portion of the night, we all went out bowling. Great. Bowling. Nothing like bowling. It gave me a chance to be kind of funny, and still blend into the surroundings. I’m a decent enough bowler, and nobody really cares anyway, so what the ...

If you believe, as I do, that the Universe is endless and that we are just one of many here, then you’ll get where I’m coming from. I have never really felt as though I belong here.  If there are countless solar systems in countless Universes, then it’s possible that I could be a mistaken parcel here on this Earth. Right? Certainly. And as such, I’ve felt for a great time that I may be a misplaced “alien” on this planet. I feel as though I would have been more at home in a different home.  This one hasn’t been all that great. Somebody in dispatch sent my order to the wrong galaxy. Every day that I am here, I believe that more and more. The decisions I make, the life I lead, the way I conduct myself all seem right to me, but society has had differing viewpoints on their acceptability. I feel as though I was assigned here with no capabilities or knowledge of the world that has been assigned to me. So instead, I muddle through, accepting the “society” as the norm, when in fact, I...

In recent years, I have deeply soured on the idea of God and heaven.      I wasn’t always the most devout follower to begin with, having been forced to attend Summer Bible School when I should have been enjoying a summer away from regular school.  At least that’s how I figured it.  What am I doing in a church basement making popsicle-stick coasters while listening to Bible verses, when I could be listening to my Beatles albums or swimming in the lake.      After all, He took my father from me, and left me stranded in this space, so what did I owe Him?      It wasn’t some self-inflicted death, either. It was heart disease that took my dad at the age of 47, so the manufacturer produced a flawed product.  And He didn’t make doctors smart enough to fix it. I was made to look after myself in my formative years, with no siblings or male influence to build on.  It wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to a kid, but it cer...

I would like to own a gun, but I would have to keep the bullets somewhere else.  I wouldn’t want the temptation of finishing my life at the whim of a bad set of circumstances. I don’t trust myself with myself. It does concern me, though - death. Mostly how and when, now that the “with someone or alone” debate has been decided. Wondering if it’s going to be a lingering disease, or something more quick and to the point?  If I linger like my mother did, I’ll be a burden to myself and others, and the final five or six years won’t be “living” in its truest sense. Perhaps what bothers me the most about it all is that my current active lifestyle will come to a crashing halt at some point sooner than later.  I’m 68 now, and pushing myself to the point where I ask myself “why are you doing this to yourself?”  To go from that to nothing will be a mental strain that I don’t know if I could handle. Which is another reason why I should not own a gun. As an only c...