“Michael Alexander” broke my heart and it can’t be fixed

I had a happy, fulfilling life up until the evening of January 5, 2022, when Michael Alexander failed to show up for his own live stream concert that I paid $24 to watch. Michael promised me an unforgettable concert experience where I would feel the same vibes of 70s and 80s classic rock like Journey and Boston, where I would feel like I was at an intimate “Karen Carpenters” show and then immediately be transported to a 100k arena Big League rock concert. You see, particle kinematics governs Michael’s existence, and the voices of those greats from the 70s and 80s (like George Michael, Michael Jackson, and one of the elves from the Lord of the Rings movies) lived on through Michael and Michael alone. His failure to appear has robbed me of the most joyous experience of my life, and I fear I cannot continue living with the disappointment and disillusionment I now feel. I tried watching videos of the original artists performing in their prime, but it just wasn’t the same. Michael promised me something as good or better than they did it themselves. He also explicitly stated that it was not a scam and that he would never do anything that was a scam because he would lose his fan base, his beloved audience. But now I’m not so sure. How could he abandon me like that, without even so much as a word of explanation or an offer to refund my $24? I was his biggest fan. Now the world seems cold and empty, and it’s all because this has-been was a no-show at his own friggan streaming concert that I paid almost $25 for.

Truthseekers

I put the show on for background noise while my husband is getting ready for bed. It opens with a young women running down a hallway, the lights flicker on and off before the apparition of a burn victim spirit appears before her, followed by a seemingly endless legion of other entities before cutting away to the protagonist being introduced to their work partner as they get sent out on call as agents of Smyle to fix folks broadband electronics while running into a paranormal plot.

The year everyone left

I miss brazen faces
Lips are cold, heart is churning a dull ache
That never ebbs, it just flows.
I miss them even if they don’t miss me.
The detective keeps pointing out
Concrete evidence that leaves a residual haunting.
Fact, no one ever reaches out.
Fact two, you need to face a life without
Their ballbusting jokes and off hinged, no filter humor.
People call them condescending and pompous lately.
No one seems to remember their stardust and light that seeped on all our skins.
Maybe they forgot about me.
Maybe they never noticed me.
I keep rereading the passages trying to
Find any circumstantial proof
That I had left some type of good impression
On the imprints of their hearts but fall short.
I always seemingly fall short.
I guess the memories were more important to me.
The jukebox being turned on and off, those big, sinister, mischevious grins.
The way he always thoughts I was up to something when really I just wanted
To be a centimeter closer to their
Warmth.
I miss brazen faces, the bluntness of an opinion that hit close to home,
The stoic humor, the blank stare warfare,
The unending advice and quick witticisms.
No one here has the same pull on me.
No one here feels like home,
Just temporary fixes and an offbeat tone.

Lunchtime

The three of us are in the kitchen/dining area that sits in front of the hallway to the bedrooms and restroom. It’s bright snowy day, so the blinds are open and the lights are off. Suddenly the hallway light turns on without a body present to flip the switch. Everyone sees it.
I play with the switch a bit to see if it’s starting to stick in the middle but no it’s not.
Friends and family say we have a spectral visitor. As I write this, the TV emits a loud electrical crack that puts all my hairs on edge. The cats look up alarmed but soon resume their respective cativities.

Boulder on fire

The new year brought in snows that helped extinguish a massive fire in Boulder that burned down 1000 homes. Videos of scorched shopping centers and gutted suburbs emerge.
The culprit was the wind, knocking down a powerline that raised a 30 ft flame and spread quickly in the dry grass.
I get an email from the school district talking about a trouble shooting initiative for families affected by the blaze and also reiterating to keep the kids home if sick at all so that the schools can remain open during the omicron invasion.
Another shooting happens in downtown D in the bar district. Something that’s become commonplace but I don’t know anyone involved in this one.

As for me, I’ve just been working with my kid on the science kits we got for the holidays. Full steam ahead.

Good news

I’m not going to need surgery after all.
Sure there’s still some mysteries in the case of what caused the pain but the tools the professionals used deliver the insight of me being a perfectly healthy 32 year old lady. The only modification? An easily attainable supplement to help regulate my biological chemistry, seems simple enough.

I was on point

With my gift shopping this year, at least With my mom and brother. I got mom the same finger flipping gnome that we spotted at linch her last visit (she knows just the neihbir she wants to face it toward), and my brother a dungeons and dragons cookbook with a pair of dicey sweatpants that say this is how I roll.

In turn they got me set up with some much needed fresh kitchenware and care products I’d been delaying purchase on. My mom helped my husband find a new addiction in ship puzzle building. Now he has plans to invest in a display cabinet to keep all of his future projects safe.

Mom also gets news that the doctor who performed her 95,000 dollar back surgery died in a personal plane accident. She’s saddened by this and also brings up the tale of the orthodontist who fixed her mouth in her teens who met an eerily similar fate.

After my folks left we dove into our next home renovations, with a good deal replacing our broken down dishwasher, stove, fridge and microwave. This comes as a massive relief for me, having been making due with 2 burners and no dishwasher for a number of years now.
Lo! Not all news was good news as emails were sent out to everyone in Colorados school districts over potential violence being instigated through tik tok, particularly warning for the December 17th date. The day before this wary date I was picking my kid up from school and a group of mixed high school boys and girls lay in the grass shooting finger guns at passerby. I emailed with my kids teacher who persuades me to trust that she’ll be there and there was no credible threat before sending her in the next day, and while nothing necessarily violent happens as I’m walking to school that day to get her. I hear fireworks being lit off close to school bot helping with my latent anxieties.

Tomorrow I get an xray to see if I have a wayward piece of medical tech hanging out in my abdomen somewhere while the rest of the kitchen appliances are installed, grateful to have the means to spend this time to fortify health and hearth.

Family visits

My mom, her husband, and my brother are visiting. They spent all the day in mountain traffic because of the snow. I got to catch up with them briefly before setting up the living room for them to sleep in. Them on the hidden bed and my brother using the couch pillows as a makeshift mattress.
Part of the conversation sticks around after. I brought up some of our former Georgia South neighbors from a long time ago, Diana and Ron. Diana taught me to sew, and very often I’d play Backgammon with her or her husband, for a time I joined them on church. Diana once gave me a book in two parts, one story about a young Christian girl who is thrown to the Roman lions and the young slave owners son who falls in love with her. The other a young girl possessed by a demon to ascend from a life of poverty through prostitution. Heavy reading material for a nine or ten year old.
Mom tells me a memory I don’t remember and little me tells her the church says she’s going to go to hell for not going to church. She says that’s the last time they watched me, or that I went to that church.
They’re likely not around anymore but sometimes I just wonder about them.
Tomorrow it’s going to specific stores my mom wants to see. Followed by a luncheon at the Melting Pot and holiday gifts after my husband returns home.
I am excited for that cheesy goodness.

This is war

Where are the heroes of our time? Often I feel alone because most people I know just give in. No one dares to think. They are just scared. Sometimes I wonder if you already gave in as well. This is war. I’ll fight till I die. I will not give in because life wouldn’t make sense anymore if we let them win.