The Last Straw

Our roommate pretty much gave us several good reasons to kick him out immediately.

I won’t go into it right now, but suffice to say his drug habits are out of control and I really don’t need that kind of person in my life any more.  Yeah, I’m no saint, but I’ve never taken anything I’ve done so far that I couldn’t be a good and conscientious tenant.

This guy’s just turning into a pretty standard addict, the sort who are a dime a dozen in these west coast towns.  He’s crossed a line with me and there’s no going back.

I’ve got a good roommate now, and I’ve got several good people interested in the room once we get rid of this guy.  I don’t have to put up with this bullshit any more.  I’m done.  He’s gone.  My health and wellbeing aren’t worth sacrificing.

The Future

I have a hard time picturing much of a future.


I envy my friends who seem able to see a way out, who can picture a time when life goes back to normal.


I can’t.

I can’t picture myself living past 40, either.  I try to imagine the future and all I see are dead ends, or the inevitable tragedy brought on by a handful of powerful people with no restraint.

There will be another world war, or perhaps another civil war, I keep thinking.  Once again I’ll spend months in a dirty hole waiting to die.  Once again I’ll come back to places I once knew and haunt them like a revenant.  That is, if there’s a world to come back to next time.  With nuclear weapons in the equation, I kind of doubt it.

Generally, I live in a constant state of anguish because I honestly have come to the conclusion that the world has learned nothing in the last century.  And as before- as ever- it will be us innocents who suffer the worst.

I only wish the whole world could experience what I did.  I wish they could remember what it was like to be doomed through no fault of their own, then snap out of their backward ways and live for peace like I did.

But I would starve living on these wishes, and there is no action to fix the problem.

Despair.  I know such profound despair.


Well Now…

I just found out that used copies of my most recent novel were being sold for roughly $38 on a French eBay seller.  It was the only book from my publisher I saw on the seller’s page.

The book can still be bought new from my publisher’s licensed distributor in Germany for roughly $11 (9,95 EUR).

This means that used copies of my work are already selling for more than new ones.

It’s also the first of my books to be appearing on torrents and illegal file-sharing sites.  I’m frustrated that it’s not money in my pocket but I’m excited that the demand for it is growing so rapidly more than a year after it was published.

Looks like I’m well on my way to becoming a cult author… how about that!  Too bad I’m still flat broke though.

I’ll Know Soon

I’ll know soon when I’ll be ordained as a lay server at my church.

In Ecclesia Gnostica*, lay server is basically entry-level lay clergy.  No training or experience required.  The priesthood in EG does not rely on a seminary program but instead, much like the priesthood before the rise of universities in the 12th century, it is an apprenticed position where one’s study is self-taught and one learns the elements of the mass through participation.

I’m actually feeling really happy about this.  It’s a big endeavor but with college over (until I figure out how to weasel my way into grad school) I need something big and ambitious to throw my efforts into.  My father seems overjoyed to hear I’m going into the clergy and is happy to help me in the mean time.  My fiance, my counselor, and my bishop all seem to think it’s a good thing for me, too.

Even so, this is where the real work begins.  I need to really learn how to deal with frustrating people in the most harmless but effective way possible, first of all, because “run them off by being belligerent and intimidating” is no longer an option (nor was it ever a particularly helpful way of dealing with the problem).

I could probably name ten thousand other things that I feel the need to change, or at least improve, about the sort of person I’ve been.  This isn’t because someone is standing over me telling me I have to change either, it’s because I know these things don’t serve me and I’m trying to shed them, the way a snake sheds its old skin. I have a fearful streak that makes my life frustrating and less free than it should be, and I just want to find some kind of peace.

Maybe I’m just the sort of desperate scoundrel that seeks a final refuge in religion trying to fix a problem so pathological that it will eventually be my undoing.  In fact I have a strong sense that my fear will be my undoing in this life because I’ve already dodged that bullet a few times.  I can bracket my hedonism safely enough, I can bring myself back from the brink when extreme melancholy comes knocking, but I’m absolutely at my worst when I’m fearful, or when my natural tendency toward paranoia gets triggered.  I’ve already done and said some stupid things in a fearful state and I suspect that one day I’ll push my luck too far if I don’t get this under control.

I have nothing to lose by trying, though.

Κύριε, ἐλέησον.

*Not to be confused with Ecclesia Gnostica Mysteriorum in Palo Alto which is an offshoot of our church, or Ecclesia Gnostica Catholica which is a branch of Thelema and in no way affiliated with our church.

Roommate stuff

This new roommate was worth the trip to go get.

He’s been making subtle improvements throughout the apartment.  He’s been conscientious, polite, and actively involved in the household.  He was even nice enough to pay a pro-rated share of the rent for this month even though I wasn’t going to ask him for rent until June!

He’s the polar opposite of our old roommate who is still here.

I’m starting to realize just how unhappy we’ve been with our old roommate, and how this place just hasn’t felt like a home up until now.  We’ve been sharing it with a stranger who seldom leaves his room and hangs out with people we really don’t like.  I used to be good friends with him but he’s gotten surly and unapproachable since he started hanging out with a bunch of guys who just go around popping just-this-side-of-legal research chemicals and sponging off others.

I’m starting to realize how much I wish he would just leave and let my fiance and I get on with our lives with a new roommate who is actually making our lives better.  Every time I try to get him to move out he drags his feet.  Every time I give him a deadline to shape up or ship out he does the bare minimum to get by.

I’m sick of it.  I don’t need this shit in my life any more.  He’s a remnant of a time in my life that I’ve already outgrown and if he doesn’t want to grow up and be an active member of this household then I’m going to have to ask him to leave eventually.  I know it, and yet I have been doing everything to avoid it.


Back From California

Got back last night from a long, wild, and very therapeutic drive from Santa Cruz to Portland.

In Santa Cruz I saw sea otters, sea lions, and whales for the very first time.  The boardwalk there was also wonderfully nostalgic, like something from Blackpool in the old days.

Passed through San Francisco, my second time across the Golden Gate Bridge and into Point Reyes Station.  Did some beachcombing at Drake’s Beach, and got some of that lovely bleu cheese at the Palace Market.  Helped an old lady (perhaps I knew her long ago?) park her truck.  Then it was off to Petaluma for a stop at In N’Out burger.  Not once did I feel the least bit sad though; long as these places are still there I can only feel happy about being there.

The van I was driving developed an exhaust leak and I got very sick driving into Humboldt County.  Luckily our rommate had a CO monitor so we kept an eye on the levels.  We tried to get the van fixed along the way but nobody would do it, so we took our chances and pushed on into Portland the next day, stopping every 100 miles or so to air the van out.

The new roommate is settling in nicely already.  I like this guy; he’s that perfect mix of responsible and bold enough to take a risk, he loves animals and plants, and not much gets to him.  He knows about my eccentricity and really doesn’t care as long as I’m fair with him.

In all, a very good week and a very refreshing break from the ordinary.


California Bound

I am at Portland International waiting to board a flight to San Jose.

From there I’m going to the Santa Cruz area to pick up our new roommate, then driving north tomorrow.

Not sure if I’ll pass through Point Reyes Station as planned.

If I do, then I’m going to take a moment to do what I couldn’t do last time I was there.  I had kept the mood as light as I could to spare my fiance’s feelings.  I bottled up a lot.

Not this time.  If I do go, I’m going to stand on the cliffs or one of the beaches and play “Da Stiegen Die Menschen Ans Licht” from Beethoven’s “Cantata on the Death of Joseph II and maybe some Linda Ronstadt.  If the tears come, I won’t hold back.

I’m still letting go.




Safe for now

My cat survived the night and looks to be on the mend.

Still, this is the second time he’s crashed like this in the last couple of months.  One day, not too far in the future, he will slip through my fingers and there is nothing I can do.  He’s 18, very old for a cat, and has survived multiple illnesses, being hit by cars, and two moves across several states.  Eventually, his little body will wear out and he will shed it.

All I can do is make him as happy and comfortable as I can and enjoy his company in the moment.

Right now, my old friend is sleeping soundly next to me, and I can cherish him in this moment knowing he can’t stay much longer.

My next novel will be dedicated to him.  Hopefully it won’t be “in memory of.”



Cat Is Ill

My cat is extremely ill at the moment.

My fiance and I are doing what we can for him but we’re afraid this might be the end for him.

This comes on top of so many other things banging at my door.  I may vanish for a while again. Those of you who have my non-reincarnation related social media addresses, try to understand if I’m not around for days or weeks.  The last childhood friend I have any contact with- the cat I’ve had since I was 12- might leave me soon.

Yeah, Still There

Even though I’ve stopped marking anniversaries, even though I hardly ever post here, it’s still there.

I realized that as hard as I’d been trying to screen out any and all thoughts of the war, it still affects me on a subconscious level.  I still have a hard time seeing myself living very long beyond middle age.  I still get an intense, uneasy feelings when I see the moon through poplar trees or the wind blows just right, or I hear an explosion without warning.  I still wake up screaming some nights, thinking I’m being watched while I sleep.  I still get intense panic attacks without warning.  I still see nothing but death, destruction, and apocalyptic battles when I consider the future.  And while maybe some of this comes from stuff that happened in my current life, 31 1/2 years in my current shell can’t tell the whole story.

I also get incredibly agitated this time of year.  It’s just a little over 101 years since the Second Battle of Ypres and it’s still there, no matter how hard I try not to think about it.

I just want some peace.  I want to live with some joy and hope, not constantly in the grip of several lifetimes’ worth of fear.