I'm still not done yet, damn it...
Course, it probably woulda gone faster had I made any real effort in the last week and a half.
I think I was more worn out than I even realized. Mostly what I've been doing is farting around with boxes, watching lotsa TV and sittin' on my ass, unmotivating myself by thinking about all that's left to do.Which keeps how much is left to do at a constant level, thereby being on my mind, thereby wearin' me out before I even start and so on. I have, however, actually been making some real progress here the last coupla days. Right now, I'm taking a break while Riviera Paradise plays (it just ended) and smoking a cigarette.
(Oooh... Stevie's talkin' now, about learning to play guitar... he also tells a story about falling into a grease barrel...) I can't remember what I said last time, it's been so freakin' long, but in case I didn't mention it, the waterbed heater died last week. We were finally able to get a new one Friday night. It's warming the bed as I type (and Eric sleeps in it). As far as this house, I've got our bedroom kinda done- still need to hang all the shit on the walls (actually, I still hafta hang all the shit on all the walls)- the kitchen is coming together, the "spare" bedroom is clean, the bedroom outside of ours is clean, the livingroom is getting there and the diningroom is still a mess, but it is getting smaller... the mess, not the diningroom. I swear, for every thing I get done, I think of 72 other related things that I hafta do "someday". (heh... just caught myself whipping my ponytail around my head in circles in time to "Let me Love You, Baby"...)
(I am officially losin' it...) Ah well, before I stiffen up, fall asleep or find some other way to justify not continuing on this quest to have a home (as opposed to ending up in one), I'mina go back to work. Oh and hey... one serious question... What is killing Rob?
Since I started working last November, I've not been able to be glued to this pooter like I was before and I seem to have missed something very important.
I mean, hell, I know he's not been feeling well very often for quite a while, but he's come right out and said he's dying, which is really fuckin' me up badly and I want to know what it is that's trying to take him down. What is it that's trying to rob me of one of my most important people... a man who saved me and wasn't even trying to? What, whose, which's ass do I need to beat to save him and don't even bother saying his, because I already know better than to try that tactic? If it wasn't for Rob.... Jeezus... there are so many endings for that sentence. I can boil it down to if it weren't for Rob, I very well may not be here right now, alive and mostly sane (shaddap). He was my first handhold out, my first distant lantern light to follow, out of the darkness I called "normal", lo those many, many months ago (like three years). If not for him, I'd not know blogging, Paul, Mikey or anybody else, I'd not have had the balls to finally get it in gear, not had the strength to simply stand and take life's shit again, like I did before I got all beat down by life, love and the lack thereof of both when I was younger. I love him.
I really do.
And, having this worry-rat in my head, about him being in the process of dying, is almost more than I can deal with. What is it?
What's doing this? This may sound strange, but it's almost like knowing ahead of time that Storm is gonna die all over again, but again, not how or when, Rob means that much to me.
Imagine if I ever got to meet the man...
I pretty much can't.
That blows my mind about as much as this issue does. So, someone, please.... if ya know, let me know, okay? I just care and I don't feel it's right to ask him himself. I wouldn't even know how to ask him and I sure as hell couldn't do it by e-mail or even by phone without crying all over him, which I'm sure he needs... *rolls teary eyes* Anyway... Shit man... Stevie's talking again. During "Life Without You", of all songs. He's talking about dying and realizing love before that happens to ya, and he's killing me with this as I ask about Rob. Know what I wish I could do? Go to Georgia. Take all my SRV CD's. Meet Rob. Hug the shit outta Rob. Hang with him, take as much care of him as he'd let me and just let him see and know who it was he saved and return as much of that gift as I can.
Just love the guy. And, before any snarky bitches start anything, I'm not talking about sexually. Fuck sex. Sex would cheapen what I feel for Rob. It's beyond mere, base sex. Rob is on a very special, very SHORT list in my heart of people (try "men") whom I love tremendously, would literally kill for, will love forever and have never bumped uglies with. Andy Harris is another one. Dad's on there, too. And my Uncle Henry. Coupla others, maybe. Two of those guys I've lost already, years ago. Still, say one thing in front of me that I don't like about one of 'em and you'll truly regret it for a really long time. Rob is one of my "forever" guys.
It's not about sex.
It's about LOVE. And, it's about time I shut up and get back to work. Hey Cat... next time you see him, can you give him a hug from me? A kiss on the side of his cute lil bearded face too, if he'll letcha and ya wanna... *grin*
(If ya wanna FOR ME, I mean. If ya just wanna, that's a whole nother thang AND best left to y'all, I think... *giggle*) Peace, people....
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