Fourtieth

I... (it's all about me)... I cannot stand it that my brother is dying.  He's only 58.  I can't stand it, but, as fucking usual, i have no choice.

Also, to add to the creepiness, there are people who get off on the news of a dying person.  I wish i were kidding, but i am not.  My oldest brother, who is not, as far as i know, dying (any more than the rest of us) set up a blog site for information about my middle brother (who, goddammit, is dying).  There is this one woman who comments who is inappropriate and prying.  We are now moderating comments on the website, because of her, and i happily deleted one of her asinine remarks.  And of course, she noticed, because she is a complete freak, and is now emailing with me as to why her comment got deleted.

Fucking A.  Because you are an idiot, that's why.  This situation is not funny, or in any way amusing, so stop trying to be cute.  Fuck you.  Fuck you SO HARD.

Thirty Ninth

I just had a random thought about writing actual letters.  And then i remembered sealing wax.  And then i remembered the smell of sealing wax.

My best friend in the 5th grade and i used to write each other long letters, even though she lived next door.  These letters were full of parakeet feathers and pressed Cheetos and pictures cut from magazines and locks of hair.  Letters were sealed with sealing wax and various sealing wax stamps that we bought with what little cash that we had.   I still have some of these letters in an old scrap book that i kept up with for almost five pages.

In one of the letters, written when i was 11 and visiting my grandparents in California, i proudly announce that "i have learned what a bonar is".  I was so proud of myself.

Thirty Eighth

Isn't it awful what we get used to?  Walking around in a shroud of pain that we can't believe that everyone cannot see?  Going through life with a hole blown in our hearts and wondering how everything and everyone else seems so normal?  I know some of you know what i mean, i have heard it from you.

This is not me right now, not right now, but i see my Sil in this place.  It is a lonely place.  So lonely.  She will be losing her husband.  She sees it coming, which i did not.  And if/when he dies, will it be any easier knowing that someone did love her?  I don't know.

Pain is not a competition, But it is alone.

Thirty Seventh

My brother is going to die, likely within less than a year.

I mean, i don't know that for a fact, but it is what is likely.

I don't even know what to do with this.  There is nothing i can do with this.  I can support him, i can support his wife.  I can hope to resolve unresolved old stuff.  I can listen to his wife pour out her worst fears and sadness, fears she can't share with her kids or my brother, but i can take it.  I will take it.

I just don't know about life.  There really is no reason for it, other than the living of it.  This feels like a random act of cruelty from the universe.  Which is a dumb thing to say, as the universe has no presence with which to inflict cruelty.

I am ranting.  I have feelings about this.  Those at least are valid.  I am sad.

Thirty Sixth

I was snuggled up on my couch earlier today and i realized that i was feeling happy.  So i started to cry.  And then i got sad, and cried harder.

Feelings are so strange.

I cried for my brother, i cried for me. I don't exactly know what i was crying about.  I suppose there is no about.