TUNDRANAUTICA

Bringing Home the Freshest Kill

Posts in the lost category

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One to Grow On

There are two rules to living well. The first is, don’t sweat the little shit. The second is, it’s all little shit. In other words, it’s all okay. We may be lost, but we’re way ahead of schedule.

— poet soul-warrior David Lee Roth

Diamond Dave

 

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I love summer but it’s usually the time that Seasonal Affective Disorder menaces me.

I always worry that summer will end too soon. That explains my SAD to an extent.  Perhaps it’s a melodramatic metaphor for life in general, even though I’ve never been fearful of death. Wikipedia says:

People who experience summer SAD (spring and summer depression) show symptoms of classic depression including insomnia, anxiety, irritability, decreased appetite, weight loss, social withdrawal, and a decreased sex drive.

That’s pretty accurate. A burglary at my house in late May didn’t do me any emotional favors. Depression set in immediately thereafter, and it’s still here, lingering.

Most people don’t understand the sense of violation that occurs when looking around your home, seeing your possessions strewn about, knowing mere minutes earlier some animals were running their hands through it all. The disturbance doesn’t leave your head for awhile. Just finding the energy to clean up is daunting.

By and large, friends and family exhibited a weird non-reaction to the burglary. Right or wrong, I interpreted their silence as apathy. Sure, a few folks chimed in with “hang in there” comments, but the widespread non-reaction was unexpected and strange.

All summer long I’ve felt like a dumb ghost, looking through a window at a party where everyone I know is laughing, enjoying themselves. I’m outside, estranged from the whole thing.

On top of it all, our cat died today.

But there’s no point wallowing in self-pity.  Note Christopher Hitchens’ recent comments in discussing his newly diagnosed cancer:

To the dumb question “Why me?” the cosmos barely bothers to return the reply: Why not?

That’s true.

XXX

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Such a great song. Geez — was it written especially for my life, my neighborhood, my marriage…everything I do (with the exception of smoking cigarettes)???

She’s waitin’ for me

When I get home from work

Oh, but things ain’t just the same

She turns out the light

and cries in the dark

Won’t answer when I call her name

_________________________

On the stairs I smoke a

Cigarette alone

Mexican kids are shootin’

Fireworks below

Hey baby, it’s the Fourth of July

Hey baby, it’s the Fourth of July

_____________________________

She gives me her cheek

When I want her lips

But I don’t have the strength to go

On the lost side of town

In a dark apartment

We gave up trying so long ago

____________________________

On the stairs I smoke a

Cigarette alone

Mexican kids are shootin’

Fireworks below

Hey baby, it’s the Fourth of July

Hey baby, it’s the Fourth of July

_____________________________

Whatever happened I

Apologize

So dry your tears and baby

Walk outside, it’s the Fourth of July

_____________________________

On the stairs I smoke a

Cigarette alone

Mexican kids are shootin’

Fireworks below

Hey baby, it’s the Fourth of July

Hey baby, Baby take a walk outside

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