A Passion To Play.

I am truly blessed with a magical, enchanting garden.  A special place where the wee folks play their merry games.  Amongst the swaying leaves, glowing under moonlit skies, the wee folks, those precious little wee folks, oh they dance and sing.  And their voices, such soothing tender voices, echo warmly through the gentle, whispering wind.  Listen to their songs.  Songs of love, of joy, of peace.  Lyrical words that speak of a world where no judgement is ever made and no stigma is ever attached.

And amidst the tranquil world of the wee folks, the moon shines down upon this loving family so symbolic of an all different, all equal society.  Fidelina, the beautiful fairy princess, her beloved husband, Geoffrey the garden gnome and their sweet, innocent child, Einahalk, prove that the power of love has no boundaries.

The date was July 26, 1973.  And at the Pacific Coliseum in Vancouver, Canada, I attended a concert by "Jethro Tull" that was called, "A Passion Play".  The above video was part of the concert.  These days, my magical garden is very much a reminder of that video.  Indeed, since seeing that concert, I've never been the same.   Please watch this video and marvel at such an astonishing world.

Me Sarcastic? Never!

I've been told that sarcasm is the lowest form of humour.  I completely and absolutely agree with that!  In fact, I've never, ever been sarcastic in my life, ever!  
I want to humbly apologise for not posting much recently.  I realise how vitally important my postings are to your life.  I'm sorry that I have caused you to sob uncontrollably due to the scarcity of my highly anticipated, much loved, to the point of thrilling exhalation postings, bring to your life.  So, please, please, please forgive me for not delighting you with my deeply profound words of wisdom on a more regular basis.  Try to handle that disappointment by realising that this infrequent blogger is posting up this posting which will, no doubt, tide you over until the next time I post up one of my must read postings.
In between my hugely adored postings, you can continue to check out, or gosh, participate, in that awesome A to Z Challenge that makes me understand that further awareness of the alphabet is a great way to meet new bloggers and um get loads more 'followers' who of course, will be so in awe of your blog, that they just have to come back to your blog and get further, incredibly philosophical musings.  I mean, none of them would be 'drive-by' bloggers who do the old 'follow me, follow you' routine,  never to be seen again.  No way!
Although I could never compete with those chuckle a second comedy bloggers who make you evidently laugh your ass off while you are rolling in the aisles, here's a very feeble attempt at something bordering on almost mildly amusing by this shy and humble man.  I have met a number of people who have, speaking of number, the fear of the number between five and seven.  So, with the lyrics from that Marvin Gaye song, 'Sixual Healing', as a bit of inspiration, I shall let you know I'm writing a self-help book for the sufferers of the fear of the number between five and seven.   Hopefully, my book titled, 'Everything You Wanted To Know About Six, But Were Afraid To Ask', will be ready somewhere within the next five to seven years.  You can learn about the opposite six, six therapy, the joy of six  and how to keep your relationship with six on a healthy level and not become a six addict.  I know this sequence on six, sucks.  However, that's another story.... 
I just read that there is going to be a 'Sarcasm Workshop' at a local venue.  I've read some incredibly exciting announcements in my time but the thought of having an awesome event such as a Sarcasm Workshop, has left me in a state of euphoria that goes beyond any suitable adjective!

Penny The Jack Russell Dog And Modest Internet Star's, A To Z Alphabark Challenge.

Right then, time to type away on the peeboard, I mean keyboard.  I've noted that a bunch of humans have been getting involved in that challenge again this April that evidently brings further awareness of the alphabet.  Which means, just like last April, during that A to Z challenge that thrills a few humans, I submit my alternative pawsting or posting.  Yes, you lucky human and the millions of animals who read my pawstings um postings,  here is the 'A to Z Alphabark Challenge.'  And because I cannot be bothered with all the other letters, I reckon it's apt that I'm doing the letter "P".

Now some might think that the letter "P" might be, "P" for 'Pawmotion', pawdon me, "Promotion".  Well, in a way it is.  When I forwarded on my very own award, "The Gold Framed Dog Blog Award", it was to pawmote, sorry, promote  pawsitivity, okay, I'll stop with the puns, to promote positivity and bring warm wishes to all who received it, as it travelled out into the internet ether.

"P" is for the profound pride providing  pleasing pleasure placing photographic placards presenting positive publicity perchance.  However, "Hey lady, stop licking my face!  And, hey lady, stop sniffing my butt!"  Humans, I'll tell ya!

"P" is for  "pussycat".  This photo was sent to me by post from two of my huge legion of adoring pussycat fans.  I have a special Press pass that I use to gain secret information on the whereabouts of the 'puppyarazzi' who often try to hound me.

"P" is for "peace".  I sense the sadness in Gary's son, as a tired young man knows the comfort of my love.  "P" is for "pacify", as I do my best to see that smile return to his face.

"M" Is For Metrosexual.

I've been getting thousands of emails wondering why I'm not doing much posting these days.  Okay, slight exaggeration.  I got one phone call asking me if I still write a blog and if so, what was the name of it.  

Actually, during that incredible challenge about the alphabet that thrills me beyond any adequate adjectives, I've been rather proactive commenting on numerous sites who are involved in the A to Z Challenge.  This means that my own eagerly anticipated postings, have been few and far between.  

Anyway, because the hosts of that alphabet challenge have pleaded with me to do some postings regarding the alphabet, here is one for the letter "M".  I know,  if you're involved in that gosh darn fun challenge, you might be thinking, 'Wait a sec!  He's one letter ahead of where he should be!'  What the 'L'.

A number of folks assume that, "Metrosexual is a neologism derived from metropolitan and heterosexual, coined in 1994, describing a man (especially one living in an urban, post-industrial, capitalist culture) who spends a lot of time and money on shopping for his appearance."  Source: Wikipedia.   

However, there is another meaning to Metrosexual that precedes the commonly regarded definition.  'Metrosexual' is a person who has a bizarre sexual fetish regarding public transport.  In particular, subway and underground systems with the name "Metro" in them.  There are plenty of examples of rapid transit systems that have the word Metro in them and you will note the Metrosexuals eagerly clambering onto them and finding the location with the most advantageous vibration.  My favourite Metro system has the intriguing name,  "Belo Horizonte Metro", which is located in Belo Horizonte, Brasil.  

So, if you see somebody riding the Metro, who fondles the seats, insists on stroking the hanging overhead knobs, has a silly grin on their face and groans a lot, they may well be a Metrosexual   If someone gets on the London Underground and says they just love anything involving "The Tube", they may well be a Metrosexual.  If  you are talking to someone and they can't stop talking about their love of "BART" (Bay Area Rapid Transit), then indeed, they might just be a Metrosexual.  Metrosexual gives the name of that play, "A Streetcar Named Desire", a much deeper meaning. 

Okay, not exactly a Metro system, but a bus is a form of public transport.  This is the bus that goes to the big city from the little town I live in.  This can be a fun ride, as the roads are needing repair and those potholes can be an extra moment of Metrosexual joy.......

And to get it out of the way, there is neologism derived from Neapolitan and heterosexual.  Or "N" is for 'Neasexual'.  Neasexual is a bizarre sexual fetish regarding being covered in triple flavoured ice cream, whilst having an orgasm....

Beyond The Sky.

In those darkest moments of isolation, my mind reaches out and seeks some inspiration.  The inspiration that reinforces just how much I have to be grateful for.  

My  mind drifted back, drifted back to a time, so very long ago.  Into our lives came a family with an amazing little boy.  A clever little boy with a ready smile and a zest for life I've seldom seen.  With a cheerful demeanour, he recited his very own poetry.  Of being black and blue from where the needles went in.  Of being a "human pincushion".  This little boy, this inspirational and brave little boy, was suffering with the evil onslaught of leukaemia. 

Then one day we got the news.  This little boy who touched the hearts of all he met, had drifted off to sleep, never to awaken again.   And I look beyond the sky, think of that little boy, thank that little boy, who cherished the wonders of  life.  The tears are streaming down my face.  He was five years old.

It's Simple And It's Complicated.

On those better days, I crawl out from under the duvet and think of those happy times that can be had in that place that lies beyond my front door.
I smarten myself up, put a smile on my face and out I go.  From reluctant recluse, to a man who is recognised, who makes them laugh, who makes them smile.  For those magical moments when I'm out and about, the cashier laughs at my zany humour, the stranger on the street, senses my positive vibes.   And the conversations I have are but fleeting thoughts, as I avoid the awkward questions.   It's all, 'How are you?  What do you think of this British weather and my goodness, put ten pounds in my petrol tank and almost filled it up to empty.'  Yes, the conversations are simple and I dare not go that one step further that may actually see me involved in a meaningful relationship.  For then, the conversation would entail me being asked, 'So what do you do for a living?'
I wonder how I would reply to that, shatter the illusion of me being some sort of local yet mysterious 'celebrity'.  How would I tell them that I no longer work, have little money and had a total breakdown several years ago.  Would they listen long enough to hear me tell them that over eight years of workplace bullying, the wife who got pregnant by another man, took its toll on my esteem.  That, in fact, the friendly guy before them was a scared, vulnerable, fragile shadow of the man he once was.  Would they listen long enough to hear me tell them that I reached out, volunteered tirelessly and with great empathy for a mental health charity, only to have the charity exploit me and with evil irony, reinforce my mental health issues..
Sadly, my fear of being judged, of causing disappointment, has been a stumbling block in my daring to 'impose' myself on society for more than a few hours at a time.  Then again, I might find someone who does not pass judgement, who sees beyond the label and praises me for all I have done, to raise my son on my own, whilst battling with my illness.  With increased awareness, a willingness to try to understand, I may just find that person.
So this man who leads a double life, who types away in the solitude of an empty living room, embraces the hope of a better future.  And tomorrow?   Who knows.   Maybe I might have a conversation that goes beyond the simple and reveals the complicated life I really live.

"D" Is For Depression.

"D" is for depression, disillusionment, dismay, despair, daunting and the feeling of having yourself devalued.  "D" is for the 'duvet or doorway dilemma' I have to challenge everyday.  Indeed, some days, just getting out of bed is a personal triumph.   And today, to be in front of the keyboard, to find the inner resolve to type away, is a profound, uplifting personal triumph.
The "Blogging From A to Z Challenge, April 2012", as much as I attempt to satirise it, has my admiration for those who can take on such a challenge.  For I find many a day very difficult to even publish a posting.  Such is my lack of esteem that I feel unworthy of having what I write be read by anybody.  That is the brutal reality of a mind tormented by the 'inner critic' that constantly tries to undermine the sweet, gentle, soothing voice of my 'inner child'.  A constant battle between negativity and positivity.
There are days I cannot sleep and there are days I do nothing but sleep.  Sleep, sometimes the only freedom that I know.  There are days I cannot eat.   The thought of food repulses me and the effort to even have a piece of toast becomes too much.
Maybe you can relate to what I wrote.  Maybe you think there is no way out of a situation so overwhelming that what's the point in even attempting to make a change in your life for the better.  Then again, maybe you realise that even at the worst of times, there are options that are called positive resources.   And today, as I'm in the dark and foreboding place that drenches my soul with tears of sorrow, this man, this confused, sad and lonely man, reaches out, in one last desperate move, to make some sense of it all.
If your life is immersed in doom and gloom, in negative speculation, come take my virtual hand as we seek the help that puts us back on the road to recovery.   There are Organisations that can help you and most importantly, can empower you.   See your doctor, let your doctor know what you are going through.   Contact your local mental health charity or even become involved, as a stepping stone, in an online mental health community that empathises with those who would rather live with, rather than, suffer from, mental health concerns.
Yes, I'm ill and yet I know that I'm not really alone.  I have to fight my away out of this pit that tries to smother me with the dirt of depression.  I reach up and you pull me out.   Thank you and with that, I present you with a wondrous gift.   The gift of empathy.
"D" is for devotion, dedication, desire and determination.