my careless contagion

Twenty-two notebooks. These are they. Twenty-two notebooks of my writings going back to 1995 or 1996 (I started writing on yellow legal paper) up until 2017 or 2018. Why am I bringing this up? I'm glad you asked, faithful reader. Because those notebooks I just threw out. Herein is another prayer, full of hope and expectancy.  I asked God about what might be tying me to sad emotions, unhappiness, etc. Whatever was stealing my joy, I wanted to get rid of. If you leaf through those notebooks, you'll see why I got rid of them. It was full of trauma, pain, and endless emoting over past hurt. I was attempting to grapple with the sad state of my life, my childhood, etc. There is even a note in there about how my brother grabbed my hand so hard it bled. This was after I left home, mind you. I don't need those things anymore. Is this symbolic? Perhaps. And it might mean something more to throw them out. If there is anything connected with those notebooks that is pulling me in a sad ...

Living the life of a divorced man was something I never foresaw. Actually, being married was something I didn't foresee, as well. At this point in my life, I think I've been wandering around like a blind man most of the time. Nothing else can explain my utter cluelessness about everything.  When you get a divorce, you lose many things. Mostly, you lose the security of what you had. You lose money and things and people you thought would always be there. Men especially seem to be clueless about how to move on. Our male friendships don't support us through things like this. And, if you're a loner like me, you don't have that option anyway.  Above everything else, I miss sex. There are all kinds of sex that people can have. I just miss sex. Any kind. I'm a one woman kind of man, and I've only been with one woman. So, going out and having sex with some stranger won't work for me. I'm not built that way. The only option I have is to simply m...