Garbage in Garbage out

Dedicated to my dear, very old (lol) friend, Chris.

As I realize that there is so much more to life than what meets the eye, I can't help but notice one of the most important of all characteristics of life lessons- one that is often learned late, and more often unfortunately, when it's too late: the ability to let things go. Most of what I know about, what I write about later, comes from life lessons. I fear to say that life lessons aren't learned from a book because anyone who writes most likely reads and anyone who reads knows that you can become quite enlightened from reading the feelings of those who write about them. So it's with delicate measures that I make the verbal assumption that learning's playground is hands on and the curve is ever changing. (I'll expand more later on this.)

Since my house has been torn up, my pysche has been in conjunction, crumbling as well, as has Sarah's I've determined. At least that's the only thing I can blame for her awful behavior recently. Maybe it's the fact that I have made spoiling children look like a work of art. Either way, I've noticed that there are lots of times in my life that I have not let the right things go, and slipped on the heels of the unscrupulous all too many times.

The sheer stress of making difficult decisions alone has just about put me in an early grave. But what I've noticed is, that it's not the decisions that are tough to make, it's recognizing and associating the value of the accompanying factors that lead up to the decision making time that distract us from making right choices. For example, your mind remembers numbers in one basic way. It's called chunking. It trains itself to break up numbers into small recognizable numbers which enables it to remember longer numbers easier than if you were to try to remember one long number. Telephone numbers are a perfect example of chunking. If you look at your daily decision making routines in that way, you can account for all the contributing factors that divide and conquer your mind, which ultimately influence your decision.

My outlook is ever changing, and it's only when I have moments of clarity and distinction that I can realize that it's not the actual problem that stems the unwanted results, it's my way of chunking out the underlying issues. I have always been a believer in fate, in destination, which would only allow me to believe that things will ultimately be OK. One would think that would negate any feelings of uncertainty, any unruly feelings altogether, which brings me to the final point in thought.

We live in a constant emotional state as we allow ourselves to. There is not a feeling in the world that will supply us with a correct answer- because there are no right and wrong answers. What is right to you might be wrong to me, and vice versa. There is and there is not, and it is all according to you. That is life. In math, your equations will either end up right or wrong, but there are lots of equations that even the latest and greatest could never solve. Everything is contradictory, and we are all human. That is one of the hardest lessons to learn.

If I can keep my mind in this state, I will be fine. Who knows what I will feel in five minutes. hahahahahahahaha. Point proven.

I'm a sucker, but it could be worse.

It's official. I am a grade A #1 sucker.
I have been dealing with this ongoing water damage claim with my insurance, with three questionable construction men of sorts, all of which I thought I could trust, all of which thought they could trust me as well, and we all secretly didn't trust each other was what it really boiled down to. It's not uncommon for humans to act on feelings. People often comment that women are more susceptible to acting out on feelings, which leaves men therefore less inclined to act on feelings, and even further less inclined to show emotion. So they say. I have found that to be totally false, unwarranted, lacking of merit, and undeniably misdiagnosed. And I owe it all to a few pipes that wanted to rebel against the unruly and unforgivable raw sewage that forces its path through them. I don't know, but if I was a pipe, I would probably do the same thing. Who wants to have urine running all over them, much less #2? There are people in this messed up world we live in who do, but thankfully and somewhat surprisingly, I do not know them.

To make a long, very boring, and confusing story, digestible (pun intended- get it? pipes, digest, you are laughing inside. I just know you are.)

My house had either a clog in the main line, or a root growing through the pipe or it was demon possessed. I'm fine with entering a plea of a combination of all three. The truth is, I don't know what the heck the problem is with the plumbing in my house. Whatever the issue, it is still unfortunately unknown to me, and I wouldn't be surprised if it was unknown by all interested parties, and I use the word interested very loosely here. What makes an object of desire intriguing to one person is entirely different to another. Essentially, I'm saying that my best interest was not at hand, although I was told repeatedly by all parties involved, the insurers, the fixer uppers, and the friends of the fixer uppers, that I was being carefully looked after. I even told myself that I was being diligent in hiring the right people. After all, all people who were hired were friends of someone I knew. That is scary in itself. It's scary that all three of the people that I hired knew someone I knew, and all three were clowns, untrustworthy, grimy fuckheads. I say that with only the purest of disdain and bitterness. You'll have to excuse my French, but if you were me, and lucky for you you are safely you, you would probably have thrown a chair through your 15th story high rise window while you were still seated on top of it. I have maintained composure somehow. God helps. A lot. I will probably have to sit an extra 32 hours on the white couch, which will match my new white hair when it's all said and done.

In all of this nightmare that has both snuffed out too many of my semi-precious cell phone minutes, and raped me of three hours of my morning routine work day, which accumulate to about a weeks worth of real work, I have learned that people, not all people, but people in general are assholes. People will lie to your face, they will tell you what you want to hear, and they will do it without the bat of an eyelash. People run on emotions and act on feelings. It's probably why we live in such a litigious society, and why we make threats that we don't intend on ever following up on. We want to protect ourselves from the likes of ourselves. It's scary. I hate this world sometimes. By the time I die, I will be either very bitter or truly enlightened, maybe both, but either way, I will hopefully be wise enough to know when someone is telling me the truth. And if I know by instinct, then I will act on intuition, and go with my gut feeling.

Final Thoughts

We don't trust our gut feelings enough, which I believe is really the Holy Spirit. If we listened more without asking the whys and hows and just know that He is in control of all things, we would all be better off, and have less worry, less anxiety, and less need for control. I, for one need to believe God to do the things that he says he will do more often and quit trying to figure out why He does what He does, and just be fine with knowing that He's in control, and everything will be fine. It will all be over soon enough, and these worries of drywall and laminate vs hardwood will be nothing more than a fart in the wind to put it eloquently. And thank God. I can't take much more of this.

When I die

When I die, please play the "over the rainbow" by IZ okawawissomeoneoranother.
And I love the video. I'd like a funeral like that. I think Wilson would like that too. I'm thinking right now that maybe he would like me spread his ashes in that manner....Oh how would he love his friends to all gather as friends in his honor, or not in anyone's honor, but as people coming together just because they had something in common together....Wilson. And something to share....and it's so simple. It's called love.

I want to spread his ashes. I want it to be something that he would have liked. I can't wait to see him again.

I miss Wilson. This makes me cry. I pray that God can allow me to look past outward appearances and allow me to see what people are really made of.

God, I pray this prayer...

Please allow all of us, who are united through my brother, Wilson, and my Dad, John, to become one with one another regardless of anything that might prohibit us, and let us all be accepted by one another, and be loved by one another in and through You. Thank You, God for allowing life to happen, even though we screw it up on a daily basis, and thank You for being understanding because we couldn't be. Please help us to be more like You when we don't think of you, and when we don't act like we even know You.
Keep us reminded of Your brilliance and love and shining wholeness that we will only be a small fraction of it, but because you love us more than we will ever understand. We will cover the Earth and be here to represent You.
Lord, let us be what You intend. Please forgive us when when we stray from You, but thank You for always welcoming us back. We will always love you, if we are smart....=) God you will always find us, when we are hiding in the deepest places, and on behalf of many, I thank You, and wish that You will draw those here that are far from You closer to You and from this service God, You will make them understand that You are the way, and make them know that You are always with them even through the pain. God , it is through You that we all live, and I thank You. Love is a freedom. You have always given us the choice. Thank You. In Jesus's name I pray.