2019

[tinhuviel]

This is going to be a different year.

Very different.

Toby is quite unwell, probably because he's honestly quite old.  I don't know how old he is, considering he is a rescue dog, but I'm estimating he's going on 12 years old.  He's got bad cataracts, and his hearing is going.  He also coughs constantly, which I know is more than uncomfortable for him.  But he's also been having seizures.  They're few and far between but, since I have seizures myself, I know that's no way to live.  I can't afford to take him to the vet and pay for whatever treatments will stave off the inevitability of his death, so I'm saving up for euthanasia. 

When this happens, I will be without an animal companion for the first time since 1981.

I won't be getting another one.

My belief has always been that, if you can't afford to properly take care of all your family members, "pets" included, you shouldn't take on new members.  It's one of the reasons I support abortion, and the main reason I will not adopt another cat, dog, hedgehog, fish, bird, or llama.  Another consideration is my health.  It's not getting any better, to say the least, and a fur friend deserves better than someone who barely gets out of bet more often than I'd care to admit.

I'm still in the process of sizing up my life, current situation, and possible future situations.  While others dream while never using the tools at their fingertips, I look around to find no more tools for me to utilise, so I've chosen pragmatism over folly, because I have never liked to dream without an arsenal at hand to achieve those dreams.  Maybe it's a Virgo thing, maybe it's a holdover from my childhood, where I watched the dreamers in my family fall victim to their dreams, and become delusional shells.  

I need to stay true to myself, my beliefs, my experience, and my convictions.

After examining the events of the past few years, I've reduced the litmus test to the path I've chosen to take from hereon to this:  Does this make any relevant difference to anything, and will it?  If the answer to that question is "no", I will disregard the issue before me, whatever or whomever it is.

I was born into a world that was preset to reject me.  I've made some friends over the years, but more acquaintances than anything.  I am an afterthought to most, and a mild, forgettable entertainment to a few more.  When I was younger, I had hoped to change that, and was bothered to think that my efforts to change my role in this world would amount to nothing.  I'm older and wiser now.  And I've come to realise that nothing, nothing, ever really changes but one's own beliefs and ethics.  You have to stay true to those, and fuck everything and everyone else.

That said, in 2019, I'm no longer writing.  For decades, I wrote for two primary reasons: to get the stories rambling around in my head onto paper and to bring others some kind of happiness with those stories.  To a degree, I believe I succeeded with my fanfic and The Vampire Relics.  But the stories have stopped telling themselves to me.  Hell, even Cadmus has gone to ground.  Ever since the 2016 Presidential election, my ability to write - anything - came to an abrupt halt.  I've been too consumed with fear and outrage to even properly function as a writer, even as a blogger.  There have been short periods where that wasn't the case, but they are so brief (an hour here, a few minutes there), there do nothing but serve to frustrate, so why bother?  I'm distressed enough as is, I don't need any more stress by trying force something that will not happen.

Facebook.  I tried to leave Facebook in 2017, and ended up in jail as a result.  So I went back, but I rarely post anything personal over there.  As far as I'm concerned, Facebook is a tool to share political opinions, jokes, and memes, pretty much as a de facto welfare check, so there won't be any coming to my door.  But my connection to Facebook ends there.  It's not important.  Nothing is.

Really, the only thing that makes me feel even remotely alive now, is the momentary rage I feel at what's happening to my country.  But I can't even volunteer, protest, or do anything of meaning to try to change it.  The only thing I look forward to, is seeing that orange Fascist bastard get ousted from Washington DC and, hopefully, thrown in prison, but then I stop to think that he'll only be replaced with something worse eventually.  It never ends.  But the churning in my guts about it is wearing me down, and I feel that 2019 will find me looking at the mess from a cosmic point of view, and sinking into a comfortable ambivalence.  Of course, that doesn't mean I won't drop my connection with anyone I discover is a Trumpist, friend or no.  I've long been in the process of withdrawing from others, so being outed as a Trumpist will only speed up what's bound to eventually happen.  If you want rid of me quickly, go MAGA on me, and we'll seal the deal.

I'd like to talk about other "big changes" in 2019, but my life is so insular, boring, and unchanging big changes can't really happen, now can they?