A Personal 21st Century La Villette ah Memories of Bruxelles la Morte

A personal and delicate posting from a 21st Century Bronte novel about a thinly disguised Brussels town being a place where hearts being broken are that city's strange life blood - Villette - or Bruxelles la Morte. This on remember Experiencing Belgium back in the day, once upon a time.
.....I like the sweet things you say about our quasi post- relationship family but mostly what I read makes the bottom of my already delicate and tender heart these days fall out and I cave into a painful form of sadness and despair: I cannot drive here anywhere in central Ohio without this happening to some degree and most people I see here know you and remember you and are curious to want to hear more about you. (to such a degree that I see that they would rather see you than me) - But I have very little information about you to give because I just don't know anything anymore. Then they see how that affects me and say that I must get to the point where you and I never happened and all of that is forgotten - then and only then I will be free to live my life again. But my answer to that is how do you throw 15 years - the best years - of your life away. Neither do I want to - nor do I intend to. Instead this sadness will eventually claim my life and that is really ok and perhaps as it should be. My sadness and disillusion will remain a cornerstone of your life post me - wether you choose to know it is entirely up to you - better you not think about it in the long the run. But it is a truth to our lives now.
My grandmother and grandfather talked about getting back together up until my grandfather died of a heart attack. Then my grandmother lived on in loneliness and despair for years and years after even after her sister and my mom and dad died - long after her second man committed suicide - she lived long so long after that always speaking of the man she loved whom she divorced, until her drawn out end. I will not repeat that history. Neither should you. I am not sure how but I will pack up this house and end this real estate game. I will move - because I cannot co-exist in this place with the ghosts of my family and now you and the dogs; my unique and bohemian chosen family haunting me and ripping my heart out daily and nightly.
I go to bed thinking about you - get up in the middle of the night groaning that you are still there back home tormenting me and wake up in the morning much the same way. I don't want to take on a new partner or lover to replace you and fill that void. I want to evolve into a sort of independence that doesn't need a replacement part in the form of another person whose problems I have to acquire to make my life work. I do not have poetic nostalgic palliatives for my shredded heart. And I have only myself and my depressive confused brain to blame. My heart will not mend - nor do I want it to. I want to live as the corpse I am - as a carcass - as an empty vessel until my time to go arrives. I wish that time were sooner rather than later. Last winter after the hospital I was the most suicidally minded that I have ever known. I do not want to go back to that place again.
It is my goal to leave this house and location before then. I still get bills left and right about that hospital stay that don't make sense to me in their logic or possibility and they eat away at my substantially above average credit rating because I don't know what to do with them or how to contest them. Without you I am a double amputee. Most of my life is spent stumbling around. I have considered marrying for convenience a decent Muslim woman who is modern enough to grasp my life up until now and who is still desiring like me to be not living alone. Umers ex, Kristoff, is doing this with much success - as are many metrosexualist post gay men in other places (with or without religious communities). It requires honesty and consolation and compromise but is a new trend in the rainbow movement going full circle.
Otherwise, one just gets stuck in the party boy who refuses, like peter pan to grow up and thus lives out their numbered days on crystal meth, coccain, weed, heroin and pharmaceutical sleeping pills all with the implications that go with being seropositive. It is a passive form of a cowards suicide.
Of course in the back of my mind I hear you calling me back to some modernist construct of a life and family in some as we used to call it "choose your own bohemian adventure" way. It is a dream like voice of a siren call - for the destruction of the lives of good hearted Sailors - for I see no truth in it. ...and I sincerely doubt it - though it feels very sweet in print to read - I find it is a phantom memory based on wishful thinking and not grounded on any reality at your end. Your emails suggest a glimpse of hope that make my heart leap back to life and make me ready to board a plane - but mostly that feels like a very small carrot at the very end of an incredibly long stick. In reality you are saddled with your new man and his friends in a world now extremely foreign and undefined, without room for me. I mostly try not to think about it or imagine it. What memories I have are a demonic persistance of memory day dream of people and places that once were. I go to bed either on the verge of crying or actually doing so - I wake up the same way - and mostly in the middle of the night the single bed is cold and empy and frightfully full of a gaggle of demons who harrass me about a long an remarkable and unique marriage that should be celebrated not forgotton - not buried in the back of some cemetery for broken marriages.
So I will either marry a woman - or find some way to carry out my life elsewhere without a partner of any sex. What I don't like about this place in my life now is that all I can see is that I am at variable 'Y' location, and 'Z', being death and the end is next - it is just not clear when I look to the distant horizon how far Z is. And how do I sustain myself and provide for myself until then in dignity and hope and accomplishment. Mostly at this point there is only religion to occupy my mind. I have nothing else at present - and ironically I am trying to steer clear of religion and now that I can and want to, there really is no point in doing so or not doing so. Until Z there is just whatever busy work I choose to apply myself to. I feel like an old man sitting on the beach in God's Waiting room in Florida on its Gulf side West coast - watching the sun set once again and once again waiting for my time to come.
The promise of death is what is next. I want to go running towards it and embrace it. I have done all I have come here to do. Rumi has the best esoteric explanations for all this - which is why it is no surprise that organized Islam doesn't approve of him or his writing.
"...I don't know who brought me here to this place and left me nor do I know when they are coming for me..." - To loosely quote Coleman Barks translations of the Sufi philosophical master Rumi from the book no library should be without - The Essential Rumi.
Books quoted in this essay posting.
If you don't know them "you can Google it" to quote the Vampiric character Edward Cullins from Stephenie Meyers "Twilight" and movie books.
"Villette" by Charlotte Bronte
"Bruges La Morte" by Georges Rodenbach
"The Essential Rumi" by Coleman Barks

In Times Of Hope During the Great Depression of 09

...Freedom and Liberty aren't even good pet dog names anymore...

Meanwhile back in Ghettoville...

Corporations that were born and breed and grew up in the great USA who then went on to become Global-Multi-National-Corporations need to start cultivating an ethical conscience is what I am thinking today - I am demanding that these Corporations - (you know who you are and the investors tied into them) - need to ask what John F Kennedy asked of we the people: Ask not what your country can do for you but what you can do for your country.

Now that we live with Hope for the first time in ages none of we the people are in a situation to offer our country anything - we have been mercilessly preyed upon by cold hearted Vampiric Corporations and our material lives have been reduced to tatters and carcasses. The we the people out there have been reduced to blood drained corpses of relentlessly greedy capitalist corporate vampires. Oil companies, Pharmaceuticals, Healthcare Industrialists, Food conglomerates, to name a few - and my favorite -Transportation thugs who desecrated public transport in the mid 20th centuries to make everyone here in the US dependent on the automobile...

If we the people are going to have Hope in ourselves and our President and our possibilities to regain our unique and potent American optimism - then the Corporations of Control who have reduced the American Dream to an unending and depressing Nightmare are going to have to start giving back to the Nation.

We must end Corporate Welfare.

We the people cannot help Wall Street us in Ghettoville or the Big Three Automakers anymore. If we do help then we must as a Nation get something in return from our taxes - including National and globally enviable Healthcare. No corporate welfare for the auto-industry unles their rescue package is built on rebuilding National Railways, trams, metro's, buses to bicycle lanes to connect Airports and Urban centers to suburban housing communities.

We the people must say "No bailing out Wall Street" who has advocated merciless Capitalist greed at the expense of a Government and a Nation for we the people unless Wall Street gives back to Ghettoville the Nation the economic blood it drained from our very lives.

And bourgiouse Al Gore can just get off his high horse of privilege and self righteousness. I will never forgive Al Gore for conceeding Bush II the election in '00 without a fight or without balls. For Al Gore to be the environmental consciousness of 21st century public life is sick. Here is a privileged sort who though he is actually telling it like it is - for him all his remedies are luxury problems that people in his economic class can pick and choose what to do with to make themselves look good. Unfortunately Al Gore's ilk will choose and dictate what we the little people of America get inconvenienced with for the sake of our Grandchildrens world.

There really has to be a better way to reign in Americas Corporate offspring and get them to work at building up Obama's Hope because we the people have already been worked to death, without healthcare, without holiday time to work at volunteering to work at the chance for Hope we have at this precarious and precious moment in American History.

We the people need a lot less work and a lot more rest from the merciless and Apocalyptic Beast of Capitalism that this once great Nation gave birth to.

The Hope that we the people have at this moment will be devored by these beasts of Capitalism if we don't build a strong enough government to balance merciless and unethical corporate greed. Knowing that makes Hope very difficult. I am cautiously optimistic and suddenly sentimental about this land and remarkable leader.

These un-co-operative Republicans who have been bought and paid for by the Corporate-0-cracy can just go down the same economic tubes that we the people went down over all the decades since Reaganism.

Put that in your Capitalist contraband black market Pipe and smoke and let it show up in your jobs urinalysis and get you fucking fired!