A side blog to go

I have just said my farewell to Blind Idiot God. I started that journey several years ago when my life and heart were in purgatory. I have moved on since, and the future becons. Yet in doing so my time has shortened, and I have decided that it's time to close the book upon my journal. I will stop by from time to time, to check on those who I have come to care about so much, but as I said in my other blog: In Chaos, as in life, all thing end.
I wish you all well, thank you for your time and friendships. Think kindly of me from time to time if time itself allows.
Peace.

Joy... E-mail anytime my friend.

Karen's service was today. It went very well, and everyone had the same thing to say. The nicest person anyone could have the opportunity to meet, she never wanted to leave anyone out, and had a million dollar smile. The picture over there doesn't really show that smile too well, but it's the only one that I was able to find online of her.

To carry on where I left off last time, as I showed up to that Perkins outing, It was a great surprise to see her there. She stood up and immediately opened her arms for a hug. This is the first time I'd seen her since the tenth grade, which was 4 years ago at that point. I gave her a gentle hug, not knowing how she was doing, and she replied with "Hug me like you mean it damn it!" Thats how I'm going to remember her.

A few days later new years came around, and Adam (a good friend, and old co-worker of mine, also the best friend of Karen) and I had a party to go to, well Karen being in and out of the hospital so often (which I had no clue of up until this past week) wanted to come along while she was still feeling well enough to go out and about. Stupidly, I had Adam have his contact pick up all the beer for this party, and instead of getting miller genuine draft, it was miller high life... no thanks. I had a beer and a half there, and that was enough of that trash. Being as we were all underage there, Adam very sneakily walked across the street with his beer as we walked up to the house, while I slowly just walked with a case of beer in hand, following behind Karen, who was having so much trouble walking because of the pain. The front stoop to get into the house took her a while, but I have all the patience in the world for someone like her.



Once again, I've got prior engagements at the bike shop I need to attend to, nothing like a funeral and an employee poker shindig all in one day right? I'd just like to say that I'm still sad that she had to pass so young, but it was really for the best, she was in so much pain. I'm not a religious person by any means, but I really hope I can run into her again some day. Till later, I will carry on. Thanks Az and Joy, I truly appreciate being able to just write this down and get it out. It's very liberating to just let the text flow, and get it out there instead of keeping it all inside. To be continued again.

It's been a long time for myself, and most of you have no clue who I am. My name is Dan, I'm twenty years old, and feeling very restless at the moment. I want to get out of town and get away to my folks cabin just outside of Ely, MN. No electricity, no running water. I want to sit outside in the cold, around a fire and just look up at the stars. No city lights to interfere, nothing but myself, and the crackling of the fire. I want to sit on an old wooden bench that has been there since I can remember, with a pile of wood next to me. My back would be cold, but I wouldn't care. I'd just stare in to the fire and get lost in thought, or perhaps the lack of. I want to get out of town, but I have other responsibilities to tend to. Sometimes I wish I didn't, just so I could get away.

I'm writing now because I have no other place to vent. I could try and talk to my friends around me, but they aren't the type that wants to hear it. I could try talking to my folks, but each of them would react differently. My dad wouldn't know how to respond, and would lose interest fast, or all in all wouldn't want to hear it either. My mom would attempt to listen, but do so in a very motherly, coddling way. I don't want that, I want to talk to someone like a compassionate, genuinely caring friend, not someone who will mewl and feel the need to hug me to "make it all better."

Someone died Saturday, January fifth, two-thousand-eight. Someone I cared about greatly, but hardly knew. I went to school with her, sat next to her on the bus all of eighth grade, and all of geometry tenth grade. I never spoke to her between that year and up till last year when I was invited of all things to eat with a buddy at a Perkins restaurant. That's four years that I regret, plus the one just recently. As I sit here, crying, with all sincerity and honesty I can muster, wish I could turn back the clock.

As I sat across the table from her that night at Perkins with our other three friends and acquaintances we sat talking to each other, carrying on our own conversation over everyone else.



I'll continue on later , I haven't been sleeping lately, and finding out this news just this past Sunday, will more than likely not help me benefit with insomnia. My eyes feel like they want to escape my skull, and as Jack said best in Fight Club: "With insomnia nothing is real, everything is far away ... with insomnia, you're never really asleep, and you're never really awake." I'm going to go close my eyes, and hope for the best. Thanks to those few who might actually read this.