We had a storm
here in Wichita.
Blasting winds,
pouring rain.
Now the stars are out,
with Jupiter overhead,
straight up.
Already muggy and hot
again.
I spent seven hours
with my Bev.
We talked for hours.
We made love for a few minutes.
We talked for hours, again.
I know you too well, bigjac,
and where you are coming from.
I know you think you are right
above all others
but the world doesn't work that way.
There are as many "worlds" as there are people -
we all see this life
through the lens of our own experiences.
Everything that you are
leads you to write this diary.
But you cannot compel others
to see the world through your eyes.
It's just not possible
And, may I ask,
what are you offering?
You want us to happily accept
that there is no right or wrong
No free will
But we will choose to follow our joys
and not our lowest animal instincts.
Offer joy
Not hopelessness.
This was a comment from a previous diary.
The topic was the threat of mass death in coming decades by folks fighting over water and food, if we allow the birth rate to stay as it is, rather than lowering the birth rate, drastically, immediately.
I will respond.
All communication
is an attempt
to compel others
to see the world
through the eyes
of the comunicator,
the sender of the message.
It is always possible.
Our lowest animal instinct
is to follow our joys.
We can do so in a short sighted fashion,
or we can look at the big picture.
Greater joy
might be found
in pushing back
against some short term joys
in favor of the long term joys,
as we follow our lowest animal instinct
by way of following our joys
while looking at the big picture.
Once again, the short sighted joys are the joys of four sweet children for so many families, and the big picture is getting the birth rate down to a sustainable level, such as one child for every other family, for a while, until we get our numbers down to about one billion, then level off.
By the way, as I was talking with my Bev, as I tried to kiss her goodnight, as I tried to walk out her door, and go to my apartment, just next door,
I thought of all the times
I kissed my Pam
as she lay in a hospital bed,
so many times.
I wanted to kiss her
my Pam,
I wanted to kiss her,
again and again.
But I wanted to leave her.
I was so tired.
Life is physically easier
as a single man,
but Pam was my best friend.
Pam made our home so much like
the home I grew up in,
with a stay at home mom,
a breadwinner dad,
but I was the breadwinner.
I went back into Bev's apartment.
We talked some more.
I cried.
I get more emotional support
from Bev and the other Mark
than I do from anyone here.
That makes sense.
But I still find myself
looking
for another friend.
A girlfriend,
that is where my mind tends to go,
or to try again here,
at Daily Kos.
I am unloading trucks again tomorrow
at Walmart.
I want to work on the sales floor,
not unloading trucks
in the back.
I want to make the items look right,
and the prices clearly marked.
And I like to show you
where the toilet seats are.