Stacey! You read my blog don’t you. I love you.
It’s you and me. 30 year old adults. There’s no one above us. Yes, authorities. But I don’t think many people are clearer than us. It’s all up to us to love eachother, is what I mean. No one else can do that.
I am not Chauvin. I wouldn’t have done that. I am trying to empathize. What happened was absurd. So I am trying to understand. Put myself in his shoes. But it appears he may have actually committed first degree, premeditated murder. In the moment. I would never do that.
Anyway, I love Stacey Peterson. My crazy period doesn’t reflect on her or her beliefs. It is a symptom of the severity of things I have endured. My full recovery is a testament to her love, patience, and understanding. And I love her.
Stacey, I talked to Scott Junker. I told him you are the most beautiful woman in the world. He wasn’t sure what to say. He said that you work somewhere. It wasn’t Timbuk2. I just smiled. I hope you can trust me. I never used information about you from others and I was never trying to. Other people projected their own serious unresolved issues, and guilts, on to me.
I hope this is obvious and that you see it. If you don’t, I would love to help you see it.
I don’t remember what Scott said and it wouldn’t make a difference. Nothing anyone has said about you would make a difference. I drove around Santa Cruz until I found your car. On the bridge, I had already seen you on it before. The timing was a coincidence. I got TWO flat tires on my way there!
The idea that Kyle is a crazy stalking criminal is ridiculous, and is only representative of that persons own guilt for themselves.
Yes, I have some crazy things. But it must be clarified. I am fully responsible my crazy, but not any other persons crazy. That is my sanity and I hope to love you for a lifetime. Because you’re worth it.
What about George? What about the victims of the home invasion he was convicted of? There’s a lot to think about. If it weren’t for the news, I wouldn’t be thinking about it. I’m going for a walk. And then studying. None of this is my business. It’s between the attorneys, the judge, and the people involved.
My business is showing Stacey how beautiful she is. On the outside and the inside.
Swim harder, it takes your mind off the great grey mouth.
Ease it up in the back swing.
Prayer works when you do it.
You have a beautiful way of doing things.
You don’t know.
Stacey, since I have victimized you, I just wanted to explain somethings. I have been listening to the interviews of the people who killed Sean Arlt.
They sound like me while being fired for sexual harassment.
I was raised by someone who has killed. He was in Vietnam, with a machine gun. And he certainly has no remorse. Why I do, I honestly don’t know. Perhaps it was the third grade teacher who had us raise silk worms that ate Mulberry leaves. I honestly think it was that. An understanding of the fragility and importance of that seemingly never ending but actually quite fragile little energy we call life. All it takes is a little pressure for for a few minutes, and it disappears.
Stacey, I just wanted to explain myself. I have been aggravated. I lost a few people in my life. Sean Arlt. He was killed by the police. I actually had a lot of issues with Sean. But I still miss him. What hurts most is how much he was hurting, and how much I tried. I really, really, tried. The day I heard who shot him, I called the police person and told them I forgive them. I can’t judge the situation. It was a horrible situation, no matter what happened. But it aggravating. Loss. It doesn’t feel good. Where is the person? They were always here.
Anyway it’s June 4, Day 42. Perhaps what is aggravating is the vulnerability of it. It breaks down walls inside. Walls that have been meticulously crafted and depended on.
I wish we had more equality. More understanding. It also seems that the victim cycle is self reinforcing without major, albeit unjust, work on the victims end. This might apply to me. It may apply to everyone.
Only the victim can heal the wounds. No amount of external change will heal a victims wounds. I think that is how inequality still exists.
I’m getting a new wetsuit today. It’s been a a few years in the making. I feel pretty set. My bike is all set. I have golf clubs. All the hear i need. I feel established. The truth is, it’s also spiritual. 12 step stuff. Serenity practice. Understanding. Equality. Humility. Patience. Diligence. Honesty and effort. Like Stacey.
Just like the 12 steps, the beauty of healing is that once someone heals, they inevitably drag everyone else with them.
All I know is change starts on the inside of us. No matter how unfair it is, that just simply is the reality. And it’s hard to fight reality.
Dear Stacey,
I am going to get your heart. I don’t know how. But I love you for your heart. And how you make the best everything. I once saw a photo of you on Facebook cooking a turkey. Even cooking a turkey. You are the best. Hah!
Oh I am sorry for being so weird. I just want you to know that I am in love with you. Because your smile is the best. I don’t know what else to do.
How to trust. And live. I feel for black people. We live in a ruthless capitalist society. You either have to learn how to compete, or get run over and run down. I did have a leg up. In many many little ways. But many had an even easier chance than me. I feel like I am just beginning to get to where many start. And they’ve been building from there for 30 years!!! But atleast I can build on solid ground now. But I couldn’t imagine being black. The spiral of victimization goes downhill fast. I can see it. There’s nothing I can do about it, besides be kind and patient with all. Perhaps one of the best amends I can make, is to buy myself a good wetsuit and go swimming.
But don’t breathe the gas.
I got painting figured out. Temperature and wind. Last time I fumigated the apartments because I did it out front to hide from the wind. This time I planned ahead and did it in the morning, with sun, and no wind. I think it’s best to let that sticky stuff dry slowly at first and adhere and mush in. But I was out in broad sun, it dried fast. It’s hard to tell what’s best. But it seems stuck on there pretty good and I love it.
Wednesday, June 3. Day 41.
Painting my bike. Desire to finish it today. And do something productive with these cedar logs I collected. That’s the timeline for today. And plan tomorrow. What’s a good dish for Thanksgiving? Perhaps the cedar logs could be used. Halloween. I don’t care much for Halloween. I like word solves. They get you thinking. Sometimes I find words I don’t even know I know. Like my subconscious finds them. A new way of thinking. I swear my brain has reconfigured. Swimming. Planning. Writing. Working.
I washed my golf bag. Wow. Learning more climbing skills. Oh I dearly love climbing gear. Slings and webbing and cords. Perhaps I should have been an arborist. Climbing and sawing by hand. My favorite things to do.
I recall some other promises I made in this blog. I can’t remember what they were. There was daily love. Maturity. Golf. Climbing. Fishing. Camping. Journal king. Reading. Inventory. Amends. Amends. To the city. Picking up trash. I’ve been doing it a lot. And taking the extra recycling from the apartment. Running socially relevant ads on Facebook. I test the waters. Run one for half a day, see the response. You can run covert ads that aren’t posts. And judge people’s responses. It’s risky. Perhaps I should stick to business.
I have an awesome helmet giveaway coming up next weekend. And I’m summarizing homeless data and programs. For the people. And organizing my flyers and paperwork for business. And completing my brokers classes. 89% on “Appraisal”.
I feel something huge coming up for Timbuk2. Just clean and rich! Like a giant salad with nuts and avocado and everything.
I don’t know when it occurred to me that you don’t need a membership at a pool to swim. But it’s awesome.
There’s always that moment when the water gets a little colder and darker, and you know it’s deeper now. I didn’t go past that today. But it always makes me squirm. What if there’s sharks out here. Or worse, what if Stacey doesn’t love me? Please shark, eat me.