Awake on Sunday

Way too early

Wondering why I got up.

Vulnerable in pyjamas

Got dressed to sit downstairs to

Wait for the train that pulls dreamers North.

Now it is light on my TV screen, my digital illusion I consider real.

Waking early, I find the comfort of my chair, as the rhythm of The Ashes takes control.

Jason Roy was caught out by Steve Smith and Joe Root walked out to the pitch to replace him.

“There will always be an England”, someone said. As the cameras shift to a view of Birmingham, and this green land shows herself.

An aircraft engine’s noise fills the background. The commentators chatter own.

Why am I up? Is sleep such an unsatisfying state that I spurn it in favor of this splendid game?

Outside my house it’s raining and a thunderclap sounds off.

Cricket is a game for people who have nothing else to do on a Summer’s day, except be lost to time, where sitting and standing are as much of the routine as the bowling and batting.

But I do long to sleep now.

Exhausted in an odd way. I’m just too tired to get up, brush my teeth, go to bed. My text messaging isn’t working. I did some satisfying meal prep, salmon grilled with tarragon and dill, fresh corn, summer squash with onion, and cucumber and tomatoes. Tomorrow I’m fixing my ever popular homemade macaroni and cheese.

The Ashes Test Series looks promising.

I got nothing else to say.

Today is my sister’s birthday. I sent her a text. She was happy with that. I bought a schmaltzich Geburtstag Karte. She should like that when I mail it to her.

I went to BJ’s and bought lots of crap. Less than last month, but still it is all stuff I know I will use.

I have to make J iced tea. That is completed. I was low on white sugar so I used a little turbinado to augment the sweetening to her preferred level. I bought a $4.99 rotisserie chicken for dinner, that I served with squash onions and tomatoes. Yummy.

Now I am sitting in my chair, exhausted. I stayed busy when I wasn’t sleeping.

Today is the Feast Day of Blessed Solanus Casey, a modern saint of the Twentieth Century. He had the charism of healing and the gift of comforting the dying. He was a spiritual giant of his time, like St. Padre Pio. I learned this listening to the Mass on EWTN. It was one of those beautiful coincidences where I just happened upon this Mass.

Now I am watching a show about the Polish Republic in its early days around 1920.

Getting tired. Happy and satisfied.

Nite all.

That’s how it feels. The sun could not be brighter, the sky clearer. And yet….

I sit here contemplating going to the Indian grocery for Lifebuoy Soap and rosewater. Then to the used book store to see if I can get a James Bond thriller Doctor No second hand. The Epstein Affair reminds me of Dr No, who had, if you will recall, a private island.

On the other hand, I like just sitting. And I feel like another nap is in the works.

And sometimes the sheer brokenness of the World overwhelms me.

I did have a nice little lunch with J today. I had a fun get together with C yesterday.

I can only fix a very small part of the World. That will have to suffice.

I read the blogs of women who love their men, want their men, crave their touch, lust for their bodies.

Your love for your men is hope for the World.

More than anything I want to be valued.

Strong Erotic Content. Adult Language and Situation. NSFW 18+

I remember the smell of her cunt. After all the years. Of tobacco, it was. As if that magnificent snatch was the Cassandra for the cancer that would kill her.

She wanted to forget me at the end. Who could blame her? And I wish, on these hot and sweaty days like there were when we first fell into fucking and then in love, that I could forget her, too.

And on such days as this, when the sweat flowed freely, I first thrust fingers, then a hardened prick, into her opened anus, the only maidenhead remaining in our satyr’s world.

The freight traffic is heavy this morning. I have been sitting for half an hour and three freight trains, two Northbound, one Southbound have passed by. One of those Northbound passes now, hauling nothing but empty coal cars.

I feel better emotionally than I have the past few days. C, #2 son, is coming for lunch at our new favorite Indian restaurant, Anohka. I told him to bring his swimsuit, so we can hang out later at the community pool.

I take advantage of this technologically sophisticated world at every opportunity. But could I walk away? I would like to see if I could live “unplugged” and without a motor vehicle in exactly the place I live right now. I could lose much. For example driving to Daily Mass at the Abbey seven miles away is important to my routine. I could walk to the Nine AM Mass at St Mary’s Church. It is on the way to the Y. Then I could swim after Mass

I could get a fancy adult size tricycle bike. The large basket would be perfect for grocery shopping. The grocery store is less than a mile away. The nice produce market is about four miles.

What’s the saying? “We don’t own our things. Our things own us.” Unfortunately true.

That’s all I can think now. I’m watching a John Betjeman documentary on English branch line railways. This is not a documentary movie, per se, but a cinematic poem about trains and a vanishing England. Businesses have to operate at a profit. The profitability had vanished long ago, but the world remained a while longer, filled with charm.

Living in the present time, I understand that the power hungry think the world is theirs to replace. These monsters will destroy what they don’t understand. They will literally hard wire peoples’ brains the better to control them.

The weak will forget their gods and select these plutocrats in their place. They will boast to their wretched techno serfs of their goodness and these once human shadows who have lost their souls will worship them. Tell the slaves that you offer endless pleasure in exchange for their own private thoughts. They will make the exchange. Who wouldn’t?

Who wouldn’t trade drudgery for a vacation?

Who wouldn’t exchange the uncertainty of love for guaranteed ecstasy?

Where will freedom live?

Does anyone know?

What will we lose to find this freedom? Or will it be a loss at all?