I Got Soul

Internet Outage

Once again my catastrophizing made me think that my service was turned off. You see how things are in my life? Just like Dr D. has counseled against. I need to stop thinking the worst of outcomes. I'm gonna think rosier thoughts. I'm going to do much better, which will give me a sunnier outlook.

Although I don't go around as a gloomy gus. I'm pretty upbeat if you ask my friends. I have great friends, good health (except for that damn GOUT), decent food, a computer, access to the Internet, money in my pocket, a roof over my head, heat from the cold, all the amenities of life. Why should I dwell on bad outcomes. It'll make you 'risk adverse'. Not too cool, not too great.

But this small facet of my personality has been getting a lot of attention on my blog as of late. Really, it's not at all debilitating as much as it is annoying. It seems to be at the back of my head more than other things. A churning cog in the works that's missing a few teeth.

Which brings up another thing: Me. I talk a lot about me on the blog. Some information about the past, a lot of information about my present, and the fucking future. Some say to me: "Hey, you didn't blog about when me and you...." I try to put in as much about what's going on around me as humanly possible, but as you know, there is no way to put EVERYTHING in. My posts are long enough. Couple that with the goings on in my fertile mind and you got TMFI, Too Much Fucking Information.

Also, those of you that are close to me speak of two things. About my duality and my reluctance. Let's start with my duality first. The fact that I seem to be writing about two different things, about two different individuals. People ask me in person how's things, and I say fine, and then read in the blog how I'm dealing with some catastrophic event. This might tie into the second point more, but I see it like this: I'm simply writing from two different perspectives. Hobobob and I are two different people. One the more A personality, I'm the more B personality. We flip flop in real life but in the blog, Hobobob may say some contradictory things from me. He may share more than me in real life, he may have an attitude or opinion towards things that I don't necessarily have. He's all the things on the inside that I might not say or do. The OTHER part of the brain that speaks to you in the back of your head that tells you exactly what's on your mind, but that you wouldn't utter.

Yes, when I blog I go off somewhere. I just about daydream while my fingers do the walking. I can't explain it better than that, but it happens.

Point two: My reluctance. I was told that I seem reluctant to talk about me, unless I'm yammering on about the past. Well, there's a natural and normal reason for that. I blog. I share all my thoughts and feelings there, so unlike most, I get all that shit out of my system. After I blog I feel refreshed, as if I had shed a heavy load. Once getting it off my back, I'm loathe to pick it up again. That's why I'm so interested in all of you when I see you. There is a tremendous vacuum in my soul that needs filling, so I tend to turn conversations away from my troubles. It's obviously not that I'm hiding things, because all you have to do is look it up on my blogsite. Its nearly all there. If it isn't, see paragraph four above.

Fuse these two things together and what you get is me. Not a complex personality by far, but one that IS interested in you more than me. But don't get out of hand, this does not go for EVERYONE. There is such a thing as TMFI, and so I'm not like this about all of you mugs. Don't get it twisted. The more interesting the information, the more I'm interested about it. Bore me and just like you, I'll drift away, like anyone else.

You see, I'm not interested in me. I find my own issues boring after I get them out of my system (besides, I'm living them). If I wanted more, if I wanted to revisit it again, I'd just re-read my blog. I hope this serves as a decent explanation for those who have experienced this strange behavior on my part.

Well, I hop on my computer and jump on the Internet. I should be grateful to the Internet connection. Because when it went down it gave me the impetus to leave and go down to Waverly. I could have just hung around online and missed my opportunity to trudge through the fucking cold to these places and deal with these drones. And I kid you not, if you were given the choice to go to Wavery, or Brooklyn (oh my god, Brooklyn), you'd chose otherwise. Even if the choice was chopping off a finger. Trust me.

But I'm impossibly happy that I have my Internet back. I crawl into bed, my stomach growling from the COLCHICINE, and close my eyes for some sleep. I drift off. Little do I know that I will get only four hours of sleep the next day. This insomnia is a growing trend and I'm going to ask my doctors to address it. It's making me wretched the next day.

Well, it's morning. I have to get ready to get to Dr. A's office, so we BOTH wish you goodbye and make it a great day.

Hobobob