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  • Writer's pictureunkillbilly


Wait, what? Hahahahahaha? What kind of title is that?

Well, you don't know me, but that is a perfectly titled unblog. For my return.

I know, I know—where the phuck have I been?

I could tell you. I could lay out in agonizing detail the blow-by-blow description of where I have been …

But it wouldn't help. Not one bit. Because … as it turns out … where I've been isn't real. Where I've been is stuck in an imagination, a construct, a phantasm. Where I've been is incomprehensible. Where I've been is just this side of … death.

That's when things get real. When you're bumpin' up against perceptions that tell you what's going on inside your head is the world. What put's the Tee in reality. You think you're conjuring reality, but in reality, you are just your perceptions. They are overriding such things as common sense, vision and purpose.

I've been on a ride, talk about Mister Toad! Barreling ahead without the slightest plan. Everything has been Indiana Jones Mode (IJM). I been makin' it up as I go along. For real!

This is not a problem. Until it is.

Here, looking back, on the year … it's easy to see the inefficiencies that go with IJM. Lots of runnin' around in circles. I have crop circles in my brain! Images that highjack my reasoning and leave me bereft of conclusions.

So here's the rundown.

If given the alternative, the appropriate response to the current shitstorm we are in is laughter. Right? I mean, logic has not served us well. People are more than happy to hold illogical thoughts in their heads. And from my perspective, laughter is the only alternative to logic. Drop the current imbroglio into a joke and it immediately becomes more self-evident, more understandable, clearer.

So … my return to the unblog is an occasion for laughter. It's an assault on reliability, true, but I never claimed dependability as a character trait in the first place. No, in the end, I see this blog as an antidote to turmoil. I see it as a booster shot of humor, an opportunity to make you laugh, even if the words dance and the theme is not obvious.

Oddly enough … with the return, with the new effort comes some personal gerrymandering. That's right, I'm setting up boundaries. I'm letting people know, right now, that this new year just happens to be a coinky dink with an inflection point. And we all know that once you hit inflection point, business as usual is not an option. Hence, the boundaries.

I understand if people are upset by this because I have routinely had NO BOUNDARIES. A suboptimal way to proceed through life. A lack of boundaries is supported by expectations, which we all know are irrational. The utter absence of any on my part is unreasonable to all parties involved, indeed, the entire collective consciousness. So … while it may lead people to break the connection … I'm bound and determined.

It's not like I'm going to be setting up fortifications! I'm talking about simple things, like linear time instead of the landscape of time. As far as I can tell, time is the only currency left to me, and since I don't know how much time I have left, I believe I have to become very stingy about time. "Yeah, I got an hour I can give you, be here at three." And if three comes and goes, bummer. That was the window I required, now I'm on to the next thing. (I could probably let my arm be twisted for a fifteen-minute grace period.) You get the picture. Flexibility can be a joyous thing—and it can be abused.

Other boundaries? Well for the immediate future, I'm bubbling up. I don't have to worry about the landscape of time because I have suspended all visits. I go in bubble mode and use the grocery store's curb side pick-up for any requirements, I've got an almost ugly supply of reading material. (Currently reading "Tibetan Peach Pie", a sort of memoir for Tom Robbins. Good stuff. His sense of humor is prismatic. I mean, every 'joke' has layers, sometimes a LOT of layers, so it's inspirational, I know it makes me want to write better.) I've got plenty of supplies, I don't need to go anywhere to buy any stinking thing. Sorry, economy, chalk it up to the pandemic and plow ahead!

And I'll just say I am setting other boundaries of a personal nature. Some people might regard the boundary-setting as new year's resolutions, I say call them what you want. The New Year (capitalized) is a totally arbitrary device. How come we're not just tied up with the sun and solstices and equinoxes? Seems pretty straightforward to me. Yeah, divide the whole pie up into units, but why ignore the obvious constructions? Wait, alright—down from the soap box, billy, nice thing is it's EVERYBODY'S arbitrary date, and thus a good yardstick for ambitions and designs.

So here it is, the end of the year, beginning of the New Year, may old acquaintance be forgot and all that rot, and I'll point out that I have not said a pessimistic word about the future. No predictions, not even conceptualizations. I'm positive.

Positive that 2022 is going to be every bit as phucked up at 2020 has been. Good luck against Omicron!

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