When All You Can Write Is Ramble

We’re discussing with ourselves whether or not to go to an every other day schedule of blog posts for the time being, or keep on trying to blog everyday. We've been working on planning out tour (see: http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/p/our-2012-adventure-plans.html) and “launching” out t-shirt design page (http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2011/11/show-and-tell.html), and then…you know…there’s Twitter…and the holidays. (*whimpers*our first holidays in about seven years...)

We’ve been waking up and too often the though it “what will we write about today” crosses our mind, and we know something should be put here everyday, for habits sake (read: http://just-call-me-frank.blogspot.com/2011/09/habits-and-blogging.html ), however, we want the posts to mean something to us…we know, you read these too, but for us this blog is primarily for us...it’s the tracker of our life, and … right now…we could probably write about, obsess about,  things such as:

• ·         Every time The Mother talks our brain sizzles and fizzles and we can barely process a thought. It's like an ice pick.
• ·         The struggles of a relationship while living with DID.  How do the people we know [now, thanks to Twitter] who have DID manage their relationships? We had a very tearful discussion with James (The Boyfriend) last night…about some of our others (alters).
• ·         One day we will need to be employed, again…and try to maintain a real job..our track record is not so good…and based on the USA employment situation, and us, entering it again for the first time in seven PLUS years (we were living and working outside of the USA for the past seven) makes us nervous…what will we do, with our backpain (often time debilitating), and with our…us...issue…we've never been employed for long.

And so much more.

And now we border the defensive...

People on twitter think we drink a lot, and are always drunk (as do, apparently, some of our previous friends, after we cut them from our life)…but we’re not. We have only been drunk once in the last week. We’re pretty tipsy now, but still, we’re not stupid drunk…we can can write, and listen to the mother yap (barely) in the background, and form other thoughts…we’re not sure what being drunk feels like to most people. We just feel a lot more relaxed, our back hurts less, and we’re more tolerant to…things like The Mother. It’s why we’d like to be at least tipsy everyday before she arrives home...

Some people might be okay, being 32 (collectively as the oldest we are, in our case) and living with their parent, their boyfriend joining them…but still, deep inside…we can’t help but think that our potential is being squandered, even though we have no clue what our potential may be…because we’re sure we’ve never reached it, and if we have….well, then we’ve squandered it somewhere, and please, let us know where.

But then...not everyone has potential...how can they with so many people in the world (at least 6,840,507,000 as of 2010)

We’d love to ramble on and on about how people don’t choose to be unemployed, like us. Though this time, we were forced to move, and it IS a choice because we have travel plans in the near future, and we needed a "mental health" break. Being "aimless" is akin to feeling lost…but, uggg, whatever, The Mother is bitching and we just lost that thought...

We’ve worked with poor, homeless and unemployed people, and you begin to learn, some of that misfortune happens by choice, some of it is a decision they make, and some of it you will never understand, unless you do...and sometimes they fight to have their next job, they fight to buck the system...they don't want to be part of it.

So, we could have written about anything tonight, instead you got that, because…we’re trying to decide how, and what, to write about…beause writing about only us…we don’t want to do that all the time, at least I don't…there is a whole damn world out there, and a whole lot of shit going on, and we are but a tiny fragment, not even a worker ant…living in their mother’s basement…trying to decide the next move, and not squander our potential potential…because life is short, as anyone who has experienced near death understands…and…being stagnant, is frustrating.

So...Viola! A blog post...

Now, back to pain-free inebriation.