July 15. Just Another Day

Alright, I haven't used this blog much but maybe I will. I don't really have a plan for what ought to go here. Originally I thought to put various lengthy articles and/or fiction and/or speculative stuff with the intention of being able to share it to social media (at the time, G+, but that's gone belly-up now). That didn't really work out but it's still the most relevant option (until I come up with a better one).

So for now it's just kind of a public diary. To be used for any old stream of consciousness crap that I think up — hoping that eventually I'll hit on something interesting and then we can re-specialize from there.

So... What's gone wrong around here recently?
That's the point, right? Nobody wants to hear about the good things, right? I mean, there's no drama in knowing that my tomatoes are starting to come in. Well, they are, in case you wanted to know. The sage has gone crazy, I'll need to trim that back a lot. I never actually season stuff with sage so it's been left alone too long. The peppers seem to be alive but haven't actually produced anything. At least that's better than the watermelon, it got completely eaten by something (possibly slugs?) mere hours after going into the ground. And I neglected to do any cantaloupe this year, probably too late to start now, so I'll be melon-less this time around.

Surprisingly, a lot of the leftover seeds from the tomatoes that rotted on the vine last year came up this year. So there will be cherry tomatoes even though I only planted the bigger ones.  Woo-hoo, right? And the mint in the back yard is doing very well. Strangely, the mint I put in pots looks sickly and barely alive, but the ones in the yard are thriving amazingly. Makes me think maybe I should do that with the bee-balm. I have two pots of it, but was waiting for it to get healthier before transplanting it. Now I'm wondering if it'll just do better if I go ahead anyway. It hasn't died but doesn't want to flower so far.

Anyway... Back to the original topic. After all the blog IS called "Failing Strange". So what's failed recently? Aside from the usual anyway (which is almost everything). My writing seems to have gone down the drain. Haven't even tried to write anything in a while now. It's just really hard to get motivated. Possibly on account of the insomnia, since I'm always too tired to want to do anything (which includes the gardening or yardwork, but that's part of 'anything' I guess - I did say 'anything' after all).

And Les died. Suppose that's another failing. I don't really have friends, being Avoidant and all, but I suppose he was close enough to count. Even though his political views were, umm, much more in keeping with the local norm than mine. I feel a lot less bad about his death than I think I probably ought to. I feel a little guilty about that. Actually, I feel more guilty than I feel bad, which only makes me feel even more guilty. And I'm not sure how I feel about that.

Seems like a decent place to end this. Also, it's bedtime. Though I'm not the least bit tired, but I'll have to try since I've got to get up at such an ungodly hour.

'Night all.
(Since I have no readers, I suppose that's kind of a pointless thing to say, but I am at a loss as to finding a better way to sign out...)

On Losing My Humanity

A semi-fictional account of an alternative reality.


I just want to be human again.

I once was, you know. I wasn't born human but I became human later. Much later than most, actually. You would think that would be a good thing. More mature than most, so more likely to have it work out. But somehow it still didn't work out.

I shouldn't say I "became human". That sounds like it was something I did. Really it was something she did to me. But I let her do it when I didn't have to, so in a way I kinda did it too. She didn't really do anything either, it just happened. But it wouldn't have happened without her. It's confusing, but it was wonderful, and now it's gone and she's not around to do it again. So I'll have to find somebody else, but there is nobody else. There never was. That's the whole problem.

I wonder now if she became human too. I thought she did at the time, but I realize now that I was blinded by my own humanity. I wouldn't have been able to tell. Probably half the people I've ever thought were human really weren't. You can't really tell.

People don't really understand my situation. I get that. Either they are already human — and therefore feeling good about everything and thinking everybody else does too — or they're not, and can't really understand what it is like. Or why it matters.

I'm beginning to forget, too. It hasn't been very long but I suppose the memory fades quickly as a defence mechanism. This limbo state of no longer human but still feeling it is pure hell. It's almost like torture. No, it IS torture. Or as much as, anyhow.

Not worth harping on it. I've got to get over it. Get on with my non-human existence. I don't know if that's possible but I have to try. Maybe I'll get lucky and find my humanity again. Could be someone else out there who can help, there's no certainty that there's only ever just the one.

Yeah. Right.

Maybe. But It's hard to be hopeful after having lost so much.