Rob-world

I strongly believe pandemics, like the one we’re going through right now with the Corona virus, are the Earth’s direct response to perceived threats. They may be somewhat crude in their delivery by our “evolved” standards, but, they are undeniably effective. Let’s look at the last and present one, AIDS.  A disease that passes itself along through reproduction?  Please.  Its natural purpose of relieving Earth by infecting our sole means of reproduction? Pretty obvious. And now we have the Corona virus, it’s only perceivable purpose also being reducing humankind’s threat to Earth’s well being, through things like strip-mining, and increasing pollution. We’re so quick to ascribe God’s praise or assume personal credit whenever things go right in our lives,  but so reticent to accept His or our responsibility when things go wrong, like a virus created with the sole perceivable purpose of relieving the earth of its biggest threat:  us. Viruses don’t re...

Not because I was too tired,   But because I didn’t want to go.  And I had a fun St. Paddy’s Day. Lunch with Marylu planned for after.  But, I was so fucking down,  I really do suffer from near constant depression.  It inhibits every aspect of my life.  Jaime, my love and responsibility for her, keeps me from pulling a header.  But, that’s why I got her. Seriously, that’s all.   But, that’s why I haven’t written anything publishable in months/years.  Right now,  I have no life, outside this apt. A few crumbs here and there, but nothing substantial. Makes sense, really.  No input, no output. I’m desperately waiting for medical marijuana here; my memories of pot, is it acting like a giant lint brush to my mind, clearing out all the crap. My life is so hemmed in. By my lack of mobility, and the abject poverty I still keep myself in.  What. the fuck am I SAVING MY MONEY FOR?

I fell tonight, going to the transfer pole to pull my pants up after taking a shit.   I would’ve called  Butch,  but he’s in/at a poker  tournament  in Rehoboth this evening.  The cool thing for me is, I knew he would’ve just called the cops anyway, so I called them by just tapping the “POLICE button on my watch; bing, bang, boom, Bob’s your uncle. They were here and I was back in my ‘’chair in no time. As I recover, and come back more  & more back into my own, Butch’s job seems to need re-definition at least.

When I adopted Jaime,  they told me she was an older cat, and asked if I knew what that meant.  I said, yes,  so her incontinence and everything, I signed up for this, She deserved a nice sunset; every living thing does.  Besides, I’d just been through love and loss with Grendel, so very recently then, so my pump/heart was all primed  to handle it. Death, I mean.  So,  her recent vet trips,  her cost/maintenance, it’s all on me.  I  need to find out how much Scott has spent on her, to date, and pay him back.’Cause this is MY fault.  I don’t regret a minute of it, though.  She’s helped me so much, and loved me so well. And helped me get through some REALLY rough times.  A lot of times, when I wanted to kill myself, I climbed down off that ledge solely or at least primarily because she needed me.  To live. No one else NEEDS me.  Oh, they want me around because they  like, even (agape) love me, but NEED me? ...

I’m feeling exploited by many around me.  Most chiefly by Butch and the trust. My perceptions seem so skewed, these days. It’s my  own damn fault.I’m not as keen as I once was.

I’ve ceded away far too much of it, obstensiibly  in regard to my recovery..  I’m done with floundering, and not producing.  I’ve NO reason to think that will change if I keep being so fucking docille.  I need better to remember, I’m NOT a nice person.  I’m fair; to a fault even.  But nice ? It really only gets you walked all over, and people are too ready to yank you around, with no fear of repercussion.   So, no. I was a Hollywood Literary Agent , from 18985 to 1998, give or take.  THAT’S the Robert Drake I need to re member and resume.

I KEEP running into limits in my cognitive capabilities.  Everybody except me seems to think, this is as good it gets for Robert Drake.  Sorry, no.  I’ve still a ways to go yet, cognitively speaking.

Listening to Barry Manilow, sitting in he  dark, , trying to get a handle on evefything I have to do.  I need to start advocating for myself better,  3specially now that I can do so much more for myself with my new Apple Card.  This is a real test of my recovery though.  Hang. On.