FROZEN

FROZEN

Now that winter is here the damask roses are shivering.

I want to gather them up in a gentle embrace, a fierce effort to keep them warm

but my fingers are frostbitten with distant chords uncharted. My heart is frigid, my soul is frozen, every fiber of what I once was has withered and perished.

There is nothing left of warmth, nothing left of my fragmented past. Nothing left but pale traces of  distant  wounds that stab like ice encrusted knives.

Forget the past. No one is left to embrace it. This persistent winter has expunged hearts and souls. Nobody cares.

I should look to the future, but there is none. Winter is a ruthless, thankless,  endless obstacle. The very thought of a possible spring is inconceivable. It no longer exists.

Jon Varga

Caught in the lethal jaws of an unforgiving midnight

My writing, my words, my unintended thoughts and images are merely SHIT. Forget them.

P.S.

I do not believe that there will ever be surgery on my arm - - they are stalling again, as usual, after five months.  I have no help here whatsoever. Prayers won't help. I'm ready to EXPLODE!!!

 

FROZEN MONDAY

The only thing worse than a frequent blogger is a frequent blogger who's a chronic complainer.
I'm not talking about myself, of course.

I complained about my lousy Friday the 13th.

Then I wrote an excessively long post about getting stuck in the mud on Saturday night.
(sure it was long - but it was delightfully long).

Tonight I'm writing about my rotten Monday. Frozen Monday. Frigid Monday. It was so friggin' cold that it would have shocked Shackleton.

Naturally I had to drive into town. By the time I was ready to leave, the frigid temperature dropped and the icy rain turned into snow flurries, accompanied by a miserable icy wind.

Halfway to town I got a migraine headache. I always get aura migraines, which seriously affect my vision - with bright flashes, zigzag lines, and frightening blind spots.

Imagine me alone driving on a winding mountain road with ice and snow pelting the windshield, and a blinding migraine.

The migraine was still plaguing me when I got to the bank (in town), but by the time I arrived at Walmart it was slightly better.

I had to pee really bad. When I got to the restroom, the door was blocked and the janitors were cleaning it. 

At this point I said "To hell with everything! I'll hold the piss until I get home!"

And that's exactly what I did. I must have an extraordinary bladder.

About the only good thing is that I found some reasonably priced mailboxes in Walmart, and I'll probably buy one the next time I go there (see my previous post for an explanation).

The weather is supposed to "warm up" later in the week, but I won't hold my breath. I'm thoroughly disgusted with these mid-April freezes.
Next to autumn, spring is my favorite season - but there wasn't ONE surviving blossom this year. They all perished because of the endless frosts.

Well, that's enough complaining for now. 

On the bright side (he says with bitter sarcasm):

I'm presently doing some online (tediously annoying) work to earn some extra money.

I'm also in the process of opening a second Zazzle store - which will be more interesting, organized, and unique than my first one is. 

And I'm still working on my Hollywood memoirs which - hopefully - will be completed before I drop dead from my exhausting life here in the wilderness.
Believe me, writing about my chaotic, reckless, bizarre, unconventional, disgustingly salacious past isn't easy.

But it will (hopefully) be a good read.