THE DEPTHS OF HELL

 

Of course I don't believe in a real hell. Gehenna, the Valley of Hinnom outside of Jerusalem, where pagan practices abounded along with the worship of the false God Moloch - rather than that of Jehovah.

Hell is merely a metaphor for the wages of sin.

I'm not as dumb as I look, boys and girls. I always maintained that hell is here on earth - - the absolute CRAP we go through during this journey of life. That's punishment enough....we don't need an afterlife hellfire.

First of all I want to give a heartfelt thanks to the three people who kindly acknowledged my rerun of "The Ghost of Sharon Tate". You have equisite taste. And I've had one helluva life. More old reruns are being excavated especially for you.

Bitter sarcasm

Today I'm torturing you with an unecessary update. Seems to be the popular blog genre.

I'm in a very ROTTEN mood, which always inspires me to abandon my intoxicating sweetness and undeniable charm. When I'm in a dismal mood, I can be......

.....cold blooded, condescending, rude, insulting, depressing, nasty, curt, despicable, and brutally honest.

Prepare.

Now, why should I completely abandon my blog when I'm such a mesmerizing writer?

First of all, let's acknowledge the fact that my AI images are damn good. Or.....almost tolerable. Maybe.

I learned at an early age, modesty will get you nowhere.

Ready....set.....GO!!!!

So Tuesday, I was taken on the looong hour journey to Cookeville. A surprisingly cool day with rain. I got autumn vibes.

Thought I was going to get surgery on my arm (see previous posts). Imagine my SHOCK when I was brought to the dermatologist's office. Again!

Instead of getting desperately-needed surgery, I wasted the whole goddamn day having a cute tete-a-tete with doctor what's-her-name.

BUT

she admitted that the dermatological surgeon wasn't equipped to work on my arm. He only does surgery in his office.

I am going to be referred to a cosmetic surgeon who has all the needed surgical apparatus. I could get radiation ( which I'd prefer) but it would be grueling going back and forth from Jamestown to Cookeville.

Another looooong wait, which might take ten more years. They're stalling forever.

While they stall, the squamous cell carcinoma on my arm bleeds continuously. Truth to tell, I am extremely worried. And I mean extremely......

Another horror story for you to ponder.

Happened very late Wednesday night, early Thursday morning. My heavily bandaged arm started seeping blood again. I called the night nurse.

To my absolute ALARM, she was the incompetent nurse who knows nothing. She tried to reinforce the upper part of the bandage. Kept asking me "Do you think this is right?"   "Does it look okay?"   "Are these the correct pads?"

Finally she finished 

Ten minutes later.....and I am not exaggerating....

a hemorrhage happened. Blood was pouring out of the upper and lower bandages. I COULD NOT stop it. I desperately kept pressing the call button. I grabbed some nearby towels and folded sheets.

I swear to God I was absolutely terrified. I am usually calm and rational. I was completely terrified....positive I was bleeding to death.

Absolutely out of character

I YELLED and SCREAMED over and over. Nobody came.

The morning nurse appeared around 7:00 a.m.   I was on the verge of passing out.

An hour later I bearly managed to get through breakfast, still shaken.

Two hours later I was given the bad news - - - -

After being blissfully alone, I'm getting a roommate!!!

The staff was telling me about the roommate.....and I BLEW UP!

"I don't give a crap about a roommate!" I shouted. " I need a surgeon!!!!".

My exact words.

So.....he's over 90, at least.

I tried to calm down and be civil. Not an easy task.

To be continued. Maybe.

Jon 🖤 in the realms of Hades

P.S.

To Rita, I got your card and it gave me smiles. Many thanks for thinking of me.

To the rest of you....thanks for continuing to tolerate me.

I'm worth the effort.

And thanks for your comments on my previous Tate/Manson post 🙂

SEARCHING FOR A PLAUSIBLE ESCAPE

 After thoroughly searching every conceivable possibility, I've come to the horrifying conclusion that there is no escape.

We are erroneously told that we create our own destinies, contrive our own private versions of hell. I vehemently reject that supposition. Our earthly hell and damnation is preconceived by an evil force much higher and more powerful than our putrid selves.
We are cursed at birth and bear the unwanted burden until we breathe our last.

I have no intention of elaborating. Think what you want.
All I'll say is that I'm on the dangerous verge of a complete mental and physical collapse. The thread that I'm desperately grasping is more fragile than a cobweb in the wind.

I don't expect anyone to understand what I'm presently going through. Without tedious elaboration, I will merely say that the very worst things that could possibly happen have finally culminated and crushed me like an avalanche.

Writing this - revealing my true feelings - is a personal, beneficial purge. If I don't express myself, I risk descending into madness.

I don't want sympathy or advice. I wouldn't expect anyone to fully understand. I'll regret writing this - - but why shouldn't I reveal the truth?

Drastic change of subject

I ordered a new keyboard for my laptop. Thanks to expedient FedEx express, it was delivered today. USB connected keyboards never seem to last very long. I'm weary of technology.

Ironically, my FedEx order of much-needed supplies is partially delayed. A pox on the infuriating holiday season. It causes far more stress and trouble than it's worth.

Tidings of great joy, my ass.

With my rapidly increasing health "issues" and  my rapidly deteriorating car, I don't know when I'll ever be able to drive to town.

I should have been struck dead when I chose to live in an insanely rural area - - but at the time, I had logical reasons (without regarding the future).

In a masochistic and yet strangely romantic way, I like being immersed in the bleak, unforgiving forest.
Strong storms and possible tornadoes are predicted for tomorrow night (Tuesday). Perhaps more trees will topple and I'll be mercifully put out of my present misery........

Recent photos of my back yard - - the surrealistically bleak forest.

A gentle caress of pink fog in the morning

A raw and angry dawn

I want to thank the kind people who left comments on my Thanksgiving post. I couldn't reply due to computer keyboard woes. I read all of your blog posts.

A note to Paranormal John:

Yes, I've always liked the bizarre music of Erik Satie (even though I was never exactly in love with him).
I used one of his compositions on my video tribute to Theda Bara, Here's the link

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sjEhCz34ok4

If the link doesn't work, you can find it on my YouTube channel Jayveesonata.

Cheers, Jon

GRIM REALITY

 I'm not in the mood to candy-coat my blog and write what you want to hear, rather than what I'd like to say. I'm tired of trying to be "upbeat" when in the grimness of raw reality I'm wallowing in depths of acute depression.
I've been posting a lot of reruns on my blog lately, solely because they are more palatable to read than the present horrifying realms of my existence. 

I'm not in the mood to hear about saccharine Thanksgiving blessings and gratefulness and prayers, and sumptuous holiday meals with fantastic families and friends.

So how was my Thanksgiving?

Somewhere between the Twilight Zone and Dante's ten circles of hell. Thanksgiving week was one of the worst of my entire life.
In a proverbial nutshell - - I had no heat, no hot water, and no working oven. My numerous health issues were so bad that I honestly didn't think I'd live through the weekend (no exaggeration). My physical maladies are getting terrifying.

And it was the coldest November week I can remember. I've said this numerous previous times, but I'll say it again:
I always thought Tennessee was a mild southern state. If I ever knew it had six month winters with ice floes and penguins, I would never have moved here.

The house that I live in is so unbearably cold, damp, and drafty that words can't adequately describe it. It's like being in an igloo with the air conditioner on.

It was so cold last Monday (Nov. 22, I think) that I made an emergency trip to town to buy a space heater and an electric blanket (my old electric blanket literally burned up last winter).

They're no longer called electric blankets. They are now called heated blankets. I suppose "electric" sounds too lethal.

The temperature dropped to 16 degrees (Fahrenheit) on Monday night. The heated blanket kept me and the two cats very cozy.

My furnace? Stops working every time the weather gets cold. Just like clockwork. This time, I STRONGLY suspect that some air ducts have been damaged by the 'possums that rudely reside under the house. I have to crawl under there to check it out, but presently I'm not in the mood.....

My water heater? The tale is too long to tell. I'll simply say that the heater was improperly installed (before I moved here) and is located in an EXTREMELY difficult place to access. I plan to get a new thermostat - which seems to be the problem. 

The oven? It needs a new heating element, which I can easily (?) install - but I'll have to order it online.

Thanksgiving? I ate tuna sandwiches. To hell with a sumptuous holiday meal. I had a pork roast, which I made in the slow cooker on Thanksgiving night - with potatoes, carrots, and onions. Ate it on Friday and it lasted all weekend.

That was my Thanksgiving week. I have only revealed a very TINY fraction of my problems and woes. If I ever told the truth about everything, you would be completely astounded. 

Most of the time I'm so frazzled and stressed that I can't think clearly. I often feel that I'm losing (what's left of) my mind. I lay in bed at night listening to my heart pound ninety times a minute - and wonder how I manage to stay alive.

It wouldn't be a complete blog post without photos, would it?
Despite the frigid weather and my rapidly crumbling life, I managed to crawl through the back yard forest and take some pictures.

 

Most of the lovely foliage is now gone, and the forest is as bleak, bare, and barren as my soul.

I'm (very) hesitant to post this "selfie", because I look like Bigfoot's ugly brother. I've aged twenty years since I moved to the wilderness.
My El Cheapo digital camera only has a ten second timer.
I had to prop the camera on a piece of wood, set the timer, and then run like hell to get within camera range. It took about five tries (I kept slipping on the mud).

The nearby hills can be seen, now that the foliage is gone.

My Thanksgiving roast in the slow cooker (picture taken before it was cooked)

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