Monday, June 25, 2012

Carroll's Journal #36 (Pussy-cat?)

What’s up with all of this pussy hanging around my door? No, not that kind of pussy. I’m talking about these kittens. Actually, they scatter when I come out. Seems to me they are scared of me. Except for one. There are five in total. But this one kitten braves the odds and comes right up to me. His (or her) reward is a bowl of milk each night. Since the others won’t come near me, I stand by the bowl and let the brave one have first dibs. Once he (or she) has his (or her) fill, I go back inside and then watch out the window as the rest of them gather around the bowl.

Sloppy seconds.

What’s up with all of this pussy hanging around my door? No, not that kind of pussy, I am talking about these girls that keep on swinging by to say hello. They are like 20 years old. What is wrong with you guys of today? Can’t you snatch these young honeys up? Why are they looking for companionship from an older fart like me? Aren’t you young men treating them nicely? Well, you should. They’re cute. What’s your problem? I hope they aren’t stealing the kitty milk I leave out every night. That would be messed up.

Wait! … What? … Switching gears.

Really looking forward to seeing that movie “Ted”. It looks really funny. It’s been a while since I have seen a good funny movie. Also looking forward to seeing the new Batman.

I decided to go back to Facebook. It didn’t take fifteen minutes for me to realize why I left in the first place. Sometimes, it’s good to be reminded. I deleted the new account. It’s just too frustrating. I get frustrated enough by Goodreads, I don’t need to add onto that frustration. Oh well, I always say, go with what feels good to you. Don’t go with what don’t.

Oh, by the way, I went back on Facebook. LOL I decided it will be my “Official” fan page. I recruited some help. Haha Hear me out, I mean., I really want to reach out to more people so in a way, FB is kind of a must. I just don’t want to have to get too involved with it. If I make it my fan page then …. I don’t know … it looks cool. LOL

Switching gears.

Jenny suggested that maybe she might return to Goodreads. I told her NO! I don’t need her starting up again with certain people. No more cat fights. She said she wouldn’t “go there” with certain people, but I don’t trust her. I told her if she returns, I will block her. She says she just wants to be able to read my poetry and stuff. I sent her a link to my writing. You don’t have to be a member of Goodreads to read my poetry. I think she is pouting.

That’s the thing I don’t like about my author page. There are a few people I would rather not have access to my profile. I wish I could make it private where you would have to be my friend or a fan to see it. (And signed in) It just makes it easy for stalkers to stalk you. Just saying. Anyway, the answer is still no. She will have to go in as somebody else and make sure I never find out. I would just prefer she stayed away from my internet activities. In fact, I am going to make that a rule for every and any girl I date or what not. “No communicating with me through my Goodreads or blog or Twitter or anything else online related to my books.” I call it my effort to keep my personal life and public life separate. New rule.

Switching gears.

So anyhow, I go out to an old bar I used to hang out in from time to time in Columbus. Old stomping grounds, you might say. I run into an old friend. He and I shared a few laughs and several beers. A small crowd gathers around us as the stories start being told of some of our antics back in the “day”. Eventually, I spill to him, recent events of the past year. I tell everything. The books, the songs, the websites, the girls, the heartbreaks. The whole nine yards.

He listened with great enthusiasm, drinking up every syllable. I used the word “stalker” on a few occasions. He nods and takes a drink of his beer. He stares at me confused. When I finished, he shook his head. “Dude,” he started it out, “what happened to you?”

Now I am confused. “What do you mean?”

It was then when he reminded me of how the old Carroll would have dealt with the situation. And you have to remember that I didn’t just skim through the details, I revealed EVERYTHING! (And I do mean, everything.)

It was my turn to nod at him. “It wasn’t even your fucking kid!” He reminded me.


By the time he finished, I understood perfectly his question from earlier. I reiterated, “What did happen to me?” I mean, I never really cared about people’s feelings before. Not like I do now. And I would have never used the word “stalker” in my old vocabulary. I would have referred to her as “pet” as in like, a pet dog that follows you around and I would have embraced the idea.

“The old you wouldn’t have spent a moments of time on her. The old you wouldn’t have given a damn.” He said. Which led me to ponder. “How did I get so serious?”

The old me would have never paid any girl no mind. No matter how much I felt for her, I would have never allowed myself to get so bent out of shape over it. I would have laughed it off and continued doing my thing. Then I realized …. My friends were right. Just ignore it. Pay it no mind. No matter how serious it was, the old me (or younger version) would have never given one thought of concern about what she was doing in front of or behind the scenes.

I just wouldn’t have cared.

So what happens with age? What changes us like that? What happens in the course of say, a ten year period where you go from “Who gives a good damn?” to “What the fuck?”

Age is the real buzz kill.

Thanks Steve, you opened my eyes. I needed someone from the past to remind me of who I turned into. You were right, everything you said that night, you nailed it dead center. I was never the defensive type (nor the offensive type for that matter.) I was the, “Don’t give a good shit” type. I need to find that guy from ten years ago again. I need to find someone who has a time machine and I need to go back ten years and find the old Carroll. (Or would it be the young Carroll?) LOL Either way, I need to get my cool back.

The moral of the story? Even when you do your best to fight it, promising yourself that no matter what, you are not going to change, trust me, you change. Even if it’s one little thing that changes. That one little thing can make all the difference in the world. For me, it caring. Somehow along the way, I started to care more about people than I wanted to. And I started showing it more. I find it harder to walk away like I used to. I find myself now trying to always work things out and make things better. (Try at least) And that one little change inside of me has made me a completely different man.

Switching gears.

Someone asked me why I post music videos when people could just go to Youtube. I say, yeah, I know, but on my site, you don’t have to listen to some dumb-ass commercial before watching the video. **shrugs shoulders** Besides that, you can usually tell my mood by the video I post.

I just accepted to play in a very private / exclusive poker tournament coming up this weekend. Wish me luck. (Don’t tell the cops) LOL

Switching gears

Like everybody else (I’m sure) I have been keeping up with this Jerry Sandusky trial. Being an avid sports fan, one can’t help but to have a little interest in it. Still, as I watched him being led out of the courtroom, after the verdict came in, guilty of 45 of the 48 charges against him, I couldn’t help but be a little sad. Not that I don’t feel for the victims, because I do, but sad because, in America, we have therapists and psychologists for people to seek help when they have suicidal tendencies and violent thoughts and even for people who have rape tendencies or thoughts against adult women. But we don’t have anywhere or anyone for these pedophiles to go to, to seek help.

You see, what you have to remember is, the day before Jerry Sandusky (or any pedophile) did their crime, they were not criminals. If they had someplace or someone to talk to before they did their crime, maybe they wouldn’t have done it. And as it stands today, if someone walks into an office of a therapist and admits to having thoughts of or find children or under-aged people sexually attractive, the therapist is supposed to report it to law enforcement. Yet, if I were to walk into a therapists office and say I have thoughts of mass murder, they are not obligated to report it.

See the problem here?

I like to think of it as “preventive maintenance”. The truth is, we don’t look for good solutions anymore in our culture. We only look to avenge, get revenge, hurt or harm each other. Not try and mend or fix. Hate in the heart is a poison that blinds the eyes and mind. (Our politicians and law enforcement people are poisoned.) And instead of criminalizing people for their thoughts or before they actually commit their crimes, how about we resolve to helping them first? At the very least, we can try. But why would someone with thoughts of having sex with children want to even try and seek help if when they do, they get the law called on them and labeled a criminal before they even commit the crime?


Maybe if we were to spend our tax dollars more wisely to try and actually resolve a problem, we wouldn’t be in the financial mess we’re in, in this country. (or any country) Instead, we waste our money in false solutions. Solutions that really are not solutions to preventing crimes against our children. (Like the sexual predator registry law). And this saddens me. We are suppose to be an intelligent species. When will we actually start acting like it? When we will finally douse the fire of hate within ourselves and each other? Think about it.

Switching gears

Okay, I have added some new things to the blog. To the left, you will see “Translate” (I hope this helps some people out) You will also see my fish. (Don’t forget to feed them while you’re here) and a list of my books on Goodreads.

Seriously though, what is up with all of this pussy hanging around my door?

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