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aldo o welles
I guess it must be January because this lets me in. Not sure why I'm here, but it must be because I'm not dead yet or completely senile. This will be a forced activity to try connecting brain cells that have distanced themselves from earlier connections. I've heard that it is possible to reconnect routes within the brain that created deadends. You can push through those lumpy old dead cells and find an old highway. Then you can start connecting highways to make your way across the brain and then sparks start pumping info all over the place and voilà!
This day is close to ending. Just stopped painting. The start of a new painting. So far so good. Not sure what I want to write in these last few minutes before midnight. Recorded part of a dream this morning. My dreams disappear the minute I wake so it is my hope to catch a few scenes within a split second. Now I can't remember what I wrote because short-term memory needs a jump start. No wine in months. A healthy attitude. Memory still wants to escape. Not sure why. I ask it but get no answer. Just pauses.
Alright. Here goes. Now I know. Maybe I don't know. I am so tired now. It is close to the end. What I mean is that it's late. Maybe it is time to write about something. My mind plays games always so it is hard. Now that we are halfway through maybe we need tea. Coffee this late would make me stay awake all night. I was never mathematical so having to do with numbers stinks. Counting to twelve is very taxing on the brain of a nut. Thirteen is considered unlucky and is not allowed on this site today.
I forgot about writing. Twenty minutes until midnight. The day goes by too fast and somehow most of it makes no sense. Why haven't I done much? At least I can remember burning my finger inside the washing machine. Eating two cookies. That man's shirt stayed on a hanger at the curb for days. I did have a brilliant idea to hang it up on a tree branch. It looked good. Didn't last long swaying in the slight breeze. Someone took it. I took a picture of it before it disappeared. A little creepy, but kind of sweet. Kind of.
While trying to refresh whatever old French is hiding away in the brain from fifteen years ago, Spanish kept popping out. It does seem that there are brain issues that need to be addressed. Supposedly rusted, decrepit wiring in there can be cleaned out and the brain can get jump-started by sticking in info from all different sources...like re-learning languages, drumming using hands and legs and throwing in a voice, forcing social connections, staying active. New brain wires can flitter in and make new connections. I don't know. I like the dancing robots with their fancy moves.
Being old is enjoyable. Except when you think back to how insensitive you were as a younger person. All of life must be about brainwashing. The brain tumbling in a moldy dishwasher inside your head while you walk down the street. Maybe it doesn't tumble in a dishwasher. Maybe it's in a washing machine. With moldy rags. Inside your head. All the time your brain is pushing you to think ahead to when it gets to go in the dryer. None of it is working. And then you are old yelling out as you walk down the street. Crud brain!!!
I guess I wrote on the 6th. Been hoping to bump my head and have what is that called again when you can remember oh a photogenic memory. I bumped my head as I always do. By mistake because I can't remember to not stand up under the stairway. One time fogginess and stars wouldn't float outside my eyes for days. Now, though, sometimes while driving I have amazing clear far away vision and see tiny birds way out there and each tiny window in a far away building. It's weird. Some days eyeglasses are needed. Oop-Photographic not photogenic.
Number 8. Yes I ate. What? I can't hear you! Why did I start this up again? Who? Where can I fit the piano? I wanted to learn to play a drum set but there's a piano coming here. It's pretty. Only one key is broken but I can play around it once I learn how to play. I want to eat again but it's almost midnight. Thirteen minutes to go. No time to read my National Geographic about brain health. The first few pages were very informative. It's around here somewhere. Maybe under The Underground Railroad EZ-Summary. 100
Number nine. Number Nine. John Lennon. I have to admit that the Beatles make me sing again. I sing everywhere. Getting out of my car. Walking the dog. Grocery shopping. They are on Sirius Radio Channel 18. Eight plus one is nine. This is not a commercial. I can advertise on here. All the stories and recordings of interviews and the DJs and the songs and did I already say I walk the dog in my pajamas? I don't care. Gave my nail polishes to my sister and bought blue cloth shoes. As close to blue suede shoes as possible.
Would be nice to ride a horse. Would be nice to have an old-fashioned telephone. Would be nice to live in the abandoned brick house where I take my black widow spiders. Did you know that when they sleep you could be fooled into thinking they are dead? I opened the jar and blew into it very lightly in case he needed oxygen. I shook it slightly. Then he woke up. The sadness I felt a couple minutes earlier turned into relief and live spider joy. There is something very sweet about black widows. They are shy and reclusive.
Leaning French, drumming, piano. Used to learn Japanese, Spanish, Russian, yoga, horseback riding. Now painting, sewing, singing Beatle songs. Never remember what day it is. Today couldn't remember what I did yesterday. Sometimes can't remember names of people I know. Also, re-learning tai chi and qigong. Sometimes forget what I'm talking about in the middle of a sentence. Don't ask me to take a blood or urine test. I'll have to keep rescheduling due to messing up the instructions. Keep calendars for everything. What I buy, when to do things, where to go. Still forgot about a lunch plan.
This month is too long even though days speed by which makes my sentence senseless. I'll stop writing after the month ends because there is nothing more to say. There is dirt underneath my nails. I ate late. Need to clean. Need a bath. Too much to do. I irritate people all the time. The news lady on tv is irritating. Tv is irritating. My freezer is low on food. Excema again. It's fine. I think excema is misspelled. Eggzima. Excema. Personal attorneys you can trust. Doctors know what to do. Know what to do. Alright almost done like dinner.
Here we go again. Why can't I move to Missouri? Where did that name come from? Why did Grammarly underline "that name"? Missouri sounds like misery. What kind of name is that for a state? A person living there would say I live in misery? That's not good. But you can get a house for a low price compared to other states. Then you'd have to say "my house is in misery, but misery is cheap so I'll stay in that state. You can have all kinds of animals on your property in Misery. Eat your chicken's eggs in Misery.
One regret is that so much time was wasted on -- don't mean to insult anybody -- but -- so much time wasted on letting men into my space. When having a man around you have to shut down so much. No time to write, paint, make music, enjoy your solitary time, have peace and quiet, sleep when you want, eat what you want, and the list can go on. Face it. A man wants you to look a certain way, act a certain way. Somebody made up the whole concept of marriage. Aging is wonderful. Time to try catching up on life.
Now that there's a pain stabbing the left side of my chest occasionally I'll say that I think an ex tried to kill me years ago by sprinkling my strawberries with ethylene glycol. That was when sitting down was painful for years and kidney stones kept clogging my insides. Strawberries --on top of a chocolate protein bar --were my breakfast daily for a long time. An elderly diaper should have helped for long car rides but the urine refused to come out. Everything cleared up after getting rid of that ex. It was like having a huge kidney stone extracted.
Good to see the little purple boxes lit up. But should be green for go. But if you're color-blind you can argue about colors. The straw that broke the camel's back in a past relationship was arguing colors. "That's it." I thought. "What an Ahole." I do know beige from green and when to run. About the colored boxes---they are up there on the screen while writing this. Definitely, next month will be a ducking out month because this is forced, heart hurts so might be dead, not enough time in the day, juggling too many things and....
Thought I already wrote for the 17th. I get confused. Saw the clown picture and it made me think of all I ever wanted to be from earliest memories on...dead while receiving first holy communion to go straight to heaven, married to Louis Armstrong, a jockey, a clown, a trapeze artist, a regular artist, a doctor, a veterinarian, a singer, a drummer, a mother of many children, a ventriloquist, a taxidermist, probably more but can't remember and the order is all mixed up. Must be mixing up stuff here because I could swear I already entered words for this...
Have to try going to bed early. Lately up until 3 or 4 a.m. Know that an early bedtime means waking up at 3 or 4 and cleaning or rearranging cupboard stuff. 3 or 4 most likely is what my body always considered bedtime and just rolled with the notion of sleeping off-kilter from its real schedule. A qigong lady said 11 p.m. is the right sleep time and early is the proper wake-up. Nah. Listened to her advice years back. Still have a vein popping out from using her special object to rub on skin.
dementia. is it that a person runs out of thoughts or are the thoughts in there running around? most likely the thoughts come and go. there's a thing running on my computer. voices. a podcast kind of thing. no wonder a person turns blank. an escape. mercury poisoning? ok now look up mercury. we are being poisoned by heavy metals? is that why we are soft-hearted and then grab a chicken by his neck and wring him. her. the chicken is female. who would ever imagine baby chicks hatching from an egg/eggs to be ground up. i digress.
The French tutor doesn't realize I can't remember words in English. I get stumped trying to remember what day it is, month, year. French words come and go. She must wonder why some words pop out and then two minutes later they refuse to show up again. The whole body seems to want to shut down. Keep pushing it, but now it pretends to be having a heart attack. Now I know why people drop dead after seeing a doctor. There are conditions that don't conform. The word count isn't working on this thing. It's malfunctioning. I had to count.
There is always an illness. This time costoconfiddlieyetis. Something similar. Costoconfi costoconshigamotis costoconiforget. Something about inflamation of the rib tissue. Cartilage. No wine, no drugs. Healthy for a long time, but the brain and body still keeps playing games. Very clear brain and very clear eyesight off and on. Sometimes the vision is ultra clear with eyes seeing tiny detail very far off in the distance. Same with the brain functioning so clearly and then there's a shut-down out of nowhere. Took a parasite pill earlier.
Oh hell. I don't enjoy writing. This has been a test. Thought it would be good brain stimulation, but it's not working. I'd rather be cleaning. Rather be. Rather be. Rather be. Now I missed why Dr. Sean Murphy made the head doctor apologize to the one who gave the patient an injection. Why is the lady doctor wearing high heels? Why do ladies wear high heels? Why do ladies have their legs bare? Why do ladies have so much bare? Why do we cut our hair?
Nothing to say, really. Takes a long time to realize the voice is not one to be singing. The brain doesn't spit out anything poetic or meaningful. The fingernails refuse polish. One good thing is the hole on the sleeve at the elbow because it sits on the edge of the counter while typing on the laptop. No, the elbow doesn't type. The fingertips under the lackluster nails hit the keyboard while the elbow rests on the edge of the counter. I think I said that already. How many words is ..?
Maybe there is something to learning the piano as a senior citizen other than just music. Your fingers hit the keys and specific sounds go up to your ears and trigger something in your brain. I used a free app up until it needed money to continue. I learned basic keys and at the end played something by Beethoven with one hand. Then, this morning upon awakening, I could remember dreams for the first time in years. Usually, once I open my eyes the dreams are gone. I now still remember clearly.
This will stop at the end of the month. Tried doing too many things and the body just yells out to stop. Too old. Should have written this morning to keep dreams. Now only one dream is in the memory. A swimming pool was turned into grass. One big lawn. Rains turned the portable dog grass into grass mixed with mud puddles. Maybe that has something to do with the dream. I could pull it back in to dry out but water would leak everywhere. I'll plant flowers in it.
Coffee has become a substitute for wine. It makes the teeth yellow. It makes sense to pull out leftovers from the freezer to make unique food combinations. You can rinse off Chinese food and mix it with beans and pineapple. Maybe coffee should be mixed in with random stuff. I like the fruitcake lady. I like the songaminute man who I think has memory issues. I can't remember. Tomorrow is the French tutor but I didn't do my homework. Never did homework if it was homework.
There was something to write about but now, who knows where it went. The butterfly that I tried to taxidermy needs to be painted back to its original color. The piano needs to be played. Tai chi needs practice. The drum needs practice. Who gives a crap sent me a gigantic box. I overdosed on Snyder's honey mustard and onion pretzel pieces. But that has nothing to do with who gives a crap. The five-year memory book is filled with blank pages mixed with undecipherable scribblings. The end.
You're not really the person you think you are. That person left a split second ago, a day ago, a week ago, and backward again. You are not even solid. That is physics. The molecules, or whatever they are, just keep jumping around fooling you. I ate blueberries, but they were only molecules jumping around. So I didn't really eat anything solid. I'm going to eat a lot of chocolate today. Then laugh a lot. We're all hoarders. History is nothing but hoarding. We are addicts inside our attics.
Cranky. Irritated. Disgruntled. Hissy. No patience. Cracked. Mean. Nothing to say. Don't make me yell. Sick and tired. You see one way. I see a completely different version. Nothing. Frozen Garlic Knot Rolls. Who Gives A Crap. Still only half-way through? At least there is only one day left. Calcium deposits are taking over the kitchen even though it's not really a kitchen because the room is a living room, dining room, kitchen, library, music room, dog kennel, office, plant room.
Might as well just end this out. Until I revamp my brain and make it nice. Cozy. Rewired. The drawers all need reorganization. A complete condo make-over. The electric bill might have doubled. That is what happens when you have air cleaners going 24/7. Who said, "I'm a drummer."?? How do you use question marks in a sentence like that? You need the period because the guy made a statement. The Harvey guy on TV said that? There's a deja-vu butterfly in here. The count seems off.
Oh caca. Now I see it lets me back in. Thought the door slammed shut. Nothing seems to be working right. Even the acoustics are all goofy. People think I'm crazy and I get that uh huh look but I don't know how to spell it. Should have written stuff down a long time ago before my brain decided to flush most everything down the toilet. Yes the brain can do that. The brain has a direct connection to the bowels and the bowels can yell back "shit ahoy!"
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