Even though I don't work anymore my schedule at home is controlled to some degree by the people who do. All entertainment including television and the internet is scheduled toward who is going to be watching or participating at any one time. Television in the morning is made for hausfraus, and not very interesting for men. Nothing much happens that most men might be interested in doesn't start until about the time they get off work. The news sites on the internet hardly has anything to offer on weekends. The people who might report it are all off work on the weekends. Even e-mail discussion groups don't have much traffic over the weekend, because many, if not most of the participants do their communicating at their computer at work. By seven o'clock at night the discussion stops for the most part. People are with their families. No blame.
There are deep pockets of pain in my elbows and the lower biceps just above my elbows, but they only hurt when I turn my hands a certain way. I'm beginning to realize I'm probably going to have this pain for the rest of my life, and the side-effects of the pain-killer pills seem to add up over time. I'm avoiding them when I feel like I can do without them. Today has been a pretty good day.
One of the strongest side-effects from the prescribed medicine I'm taking comes from aspirin. Aspirin helps with lots of everyday aches and pains, but when you take it regular it starts to mess your kidneys up. I'm trying to avoid that. I use ibuprofen and naproxen sodium pills as a relief from the Tylenol 3 type pills that use aspirin instead of Tylenol. It seems to have worked okay so far.
This type of arthritis is called rheumatoid because it moves around in the body. It doesn't always hurt in the same place, but appears and disappears as it will. This reminds me a lot of the Kundalini experiences I had. I've experienced some periods of ecstasy due to Kundalini, in the past, but that may have been merely a precursor to what I'm experiencing presently. The only biography of a man in India I've read did not have a lot of good things to say about the experiences he had. He swore that some of the symptoms nearly killed him. The gifts he received from it hardly seemed worth it to him, and he was in constant fear that the people in India would find out about it and kill him in a stampede for his services.
The book Tom Patterson wrote about Eddie Martin seem to contain some interesting thoughts about what happened when he started reading cards down in Georgia. A great majority of his customers were blacks. In fact, he said that he dreaded reading for white people, and said why. I agreed with him about that. White people are weird about things like fortune telling. It's like they have to take a condescending attitude toward the reader or they can't go through with it. It's always been like that. Even in the Dark Ages in Europe before the Druids became the Catholic church in Rome. That may change with the coming Depression.
I'm re-reading Sartre. His writing is very powerful with me. Since I don't have any formal education much about philosophy the way I read Sartre might prove difficult to cope with to minds that have been institutionalized through education. It wouldn't surprise me if Sartre might not think highly of the way I interpret his work. Tough shit. He's dead, so it ain't like it matters how I interpret his writings, because they don't lead to immortality.
I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
