beleaguering ennui

sometimes i wish i had play-by-play commentators for my life. the kind that root for the home team. some voice that guides interpretation of my every action. a steve stone to explain my logic in a way that just makes sense. some way to open a window into the nuances that compose my moments. perhaps helping my employer to understand why despite my efforts to the contrary, i seem to be unable to prevent my paintbrush from dripping on the hardwood floors. reservoirs of knowledge into my past would revel that of my own. stats, facts and stories rattled off at only the most indefectible moment, would produce a sense of contentedness through the simple appreciation of my complexity. there is no outcome, no end-all, a world series, world cup, world champion win is just another grain of sand, which stands out when isolated, but when taken as a apart of the larger picture is apart of the splendor that massages my feet during a warm summer walk on the coast. receiving faxes — fielding questions so as to convey the complexity of my situation. pat hughes would get confidently excited, cheering me on while keeping his composure enough to broadcast the picture as i move around the bases; first, sometimes second, occasionally third and rarely home, but always with an attempted grace and composure — good sportsmanship. my sac flies, stolen bases and progressive psychology would not go unnoticed, because what is it all about, if not the subtleties of love, democracy of life the beauty of compassion. my exemplary defensive accomplishments, however routine would be designated as such — oh he makes that look easy — he’d say. tom dorr and "red" kerr, would interview the superstars in my life for another perspective. interviewing greats such as tim "the farmer," and goatey "the inspired," to share any 20/20 they have on the given situation. perhaps my my divorced parents would be asked to come together on what they think i should do, knowing that i won’t be privy to their opinions until all is said and done. my family in the stands and friends tuned in on the air. annie would be there on the sidelines, my mascot, ever faithful, despite how under appreciated she is, cheering me on, like the play-by-play announcers, for the home team.

and for some reason, it just occurred to me that today is a birthday. particularly, one of a long-distant friend. friend if you hear me, happy birthday.

so i have had many (and by many i mean one or two) of my friends suggest that they’d enjoy being able to post responses to my thoughts in ways similar to a blog. there’s this person who is a wonderfully beautiful, new found friend to me. she maintains a blog in about as religious a fashion as is possible in this industry of un-professional literary genius, and i must say… her grass is greener. the community feeling is really attractive to me. sometimes i can just get so much inside my own head, i feel alone in this household of five, city of eight-million people, and world of one-quintrillion insects. but that’s not my purpose for this outlet. this has a purpose to me as a one-way medium, uncensored as such, which may in fact solicit contact — but is not a public conversation.

the thought of that form has had appeal. £k¶ is to me, a poster-chile for it’s splendor. just being exposed to her experience has had me thinking gee that would be nice, having more of a dialogue, more feedback and maybe that is something i will pursue at some later date, but for now, this is my (potentially two-way) monologue.