Trying to make blogging a habit. Funny, I always thought it was for 14 year old high school girls dealing with their feelings. Maybe I’m reverting back to that stage in my life – when things weren’t so complex and I had more time than I knew what to do with. Enter Phil. Maybe he had too much time. Stop. This is where I have to make the conscious decision to interrupt thoughts that have no answer.

The adjustment is a curious one. The beginning of building a life with someone and having that all change in the matter of a day – having that very same person you want to share it with suddenly decides to quit and that life no longer exists.

I realize I’m supposed to make this healing process as positive as possible. It’s a constant interruptions of patterns of thinking and replacing those with positive ones. My hope is that habitual will become automatic and automatic will become standard.

Among many things, I’m grateful to have experienced his logic and methodical way of thinking. It’s one of the ways I’m going to survive. Ironic. The very thing that broke me is the very thing that’s going to save me. Huh. I need to revisit that sometime when I have too much time to think.

I’m driving to St. Louis to bury my dead boyfriend. Listening to Son Lux, the music he loved to listen to when he felt like he had he lost it to trying. He finally did.

We moved in together less than a month ago. Our home holds his ghost which I‘m still trying to cling to. The new head space is a strange one. Someone once told me that the average person has around 16,000 thoughts a day. All of mine now reverberate with what I have left to keep him alive. 

They tell me blogging is supposed to help. So here we are.

“A discussion on the descent of the humanistic, primordial jubilance raped from our lives by media suffocation, developed by multi-billion dollar corporations, who vulture around televised peak times slots according to the most effective and lucrative demographic.”

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In your living room sits the perfect list and detailed guidelines on how to survive as the perfect capitalist. Who knew such vibrancy and life could exist so perfectly in a neatly packaged box filled with electrically-charged ionized gases, cell chambers, and fluorescent lamps?

Your television will tell you exactly what’s in fashion, what music to listen to, what detergents to buy, what car to drive, what insurance to purchase, and what pills will regulate your sleep cycle/penile functions/manic depression- all while detailing how to perform as a model societal puppet. Your titillating telly will effortlessly cure you of your supposed depression based off vague descriptions of symptoms that it diagnoses for you. Luckily, it will also seamlessly cure those restless legs of yours.

Be certain to remember the candy that melts in your mouth but in your hands! Wait. When do you need to refill that prescription for your ADD medication? Don’t worry about where you can receive your pharmaceutical dependency, simply wait 30 seconds and you’ll see the very advertisement flash right before your glazed, lifeless eyes.

From there you can continue to lose yourself gaming, entertaining, shopping and now even voting on that splooging media box in your living room.

2012 will be a big year for your Mr. Television. It will conveniently display the rolodex of our presidential leaders, who will happily sell their perfectly quaffed image to you in the same way GE will sell you an icy cold refrigerator.

Just another product.

Don’t resist.

Just go right ahead and submit to the greatness that is the majesty of TV-land. Unfortunately, what this means for you and I, is that the future of our country will largely be decided by commercials, or at least the part that isn’t decided by good old fashioned cash.

Never fear. You will not have to make an educated decision. No critical thinking for you! To think, the despair and absurdity of devising your own logical solution based off of research! Fortunately, we can now all be drones on the same wavelength and frequency. Rest assured, everyone can now have exactly the same opinion. The only variable being what channel you happen to be tuned in to. Democrat or Republican? Well, that all depends on which network has been developing your opinion for you.

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Unplug yourself and step outside.

End Transmission.

I remember when tears only gathered in the corners of our eyes from the innocence of laughter. As the innocence subsides and the corners overflow, I still can’t think of a single thing I’d rather do than spend all my time in bed with you.

There’s nothing more attractive than a man in an NPR t-shirt with newspaper print all over his hands.