Just Another Day

My spirit is especially low today. I feel so broken.

As planned early this morning, I rose at 6 a.m. Later, the day was bright and cloud-free. This is the sort of weather that I hate most if I plan to get out to do any shopping.

And since it is Thanksgiving Day, I had wanted to do just that ─ a little shopping at Shoppers Drug Mart maybe half a mile from here. For this errand, I had forsaken what would have otherwise been an earlier ¾-mile round trip walk to the elementary school playground for some exercise there.

I was also forsaking any token backyard tool shed exercising.

It was at most 8:05 a.m. and I was all dressed to leave on my venture, but suddenly all intent within me collapsed as if by an ill magic. Maybe if it had been five minutes before 8 a.m. and not after that hour when the store was to have opened, I might have still gone.

But I felt myself such a failure for a multitude of reasons that I could not brave the public. I could not bear being seen by anyone.

If only it had been thickly overcast ─ or even better, raining. But I knew that here in this colony of Sikhs and Muslims that has become the region of Surrey that I live in, some would already be abroad taking advantage of such a brilliant sunny morning.

My morning was thus taken from me.

And then ere 8:10 a.m., my younger brother emerged from his bedroom for the morning, and I was indeed trapped ─ self-confined to home.

Despite my despondence and a weary desire to return to bed, shortly after 8:30 a.m. I joined him downstairs for some T.V.

After 10-15 minutes, he offered the T.V. over to me so that I could start operation of our Android TV Box.

We were to sample 10 or so minute of two long videos before agreeing to give up on them. So I tuned in the remainder of a movie we had only watched about 28 minutes of a couple of days ago ─ 2023's Sound of Freedom.

I don't remember now where my download source was, for I had it saved to a flash or thumb drive; however, one viewing source is this RidoMovies.tv link.

The part we had previously watched was confusing at times due to its jumbling of timelines. And the movie has loads of Spanish, so we had to deal with very small English subtitles ─ my brother can't even read them from any distance. So a lot of the conversation was lost to us.

And I have only just now discovered that the main character's wife was played by Mira Sorvino ─ I had no idea. And I have always been attracted to the woman!

Teen actress Cristal Aparicio ─ who played a young girl who was sex-trafficked ─ was exceptionally cute. When she was first made up to look glamorous for the sex trade, I now see why it was so effective for her ─ she was probably around 16 years old, so not a young child. She already was a young woman.

After that we were also to watch a 12-minute (11:59) video uploaded August 14, 2022, to YouTube's History at The OK Corral channel: Texas Rebels vs. Mexican Soldiers l: The Black Bean Incident.

In 1843, after a raid into Mexico goes awry, a group of Texan rebels are captured by the infamous General Santa Ana and forced to draw lots for their lives. Any prisoner who draws a black bean, will be executed.

And after that, we got into another movie ─ an oldie black & white Western. But as usual, my brother begged off so he could have bed rest before his afternoon public transit to go social drinking. I'll report on the movie once it has been fully watched.

I gathered together a filling first meal of my day and ate it here at my bedside computer; then despite the wasting sunny afternoon, I sought my nap. I had declined in spirit so drastically that at times I have verged on tears.

Since this is a scheduled bath day, fairly early into the latter afternoon I got that out of the way. It is most onerous, but at least it preoccupied me fully and helped rev me up physically nearly as much as exercising would have ─ something I have totally neglected today.

There will be no family Thanksgiving dinner of any sort this day. I am very soon going to get a very light supper to eat here at my bedside computer, and then watch at least one show here to justify a little drinking.

I have considered watching Planes, Trains and Automobiles this evening with my brother (once he gets home from his social drinking) and Bev, but he might not show up until well into the latter evening. And even then, he just may pass out during the movie.

So why bother? It's not 'family time' in any sense.

Right now it is 6:24 p.m. and I am going to take my blogging break and get that light meal together. When I was stripped down for my bath, I seemed to be registering around 176-178 pounds ─ the analog scales can vary so widely.

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The Christmas movie I watched was 2018's Christmas at Pemberley Manor. And did it ever succeed in breaking me open emotionally midway and thereafter.

I watched nearly 17 minutes at either of the two of three possible links offered at this CineGo.tv link, but both would buffer at times. I am not here to endure lost multiple seconds doing nothing but staring at an inactive computer screen. I'm drinking, and I can afford no discontinuance in the entertainment ─ I might as well just be drinking for absolutely no reason. My drinking resources are limited, after all.

So despite its penchant for thrusting hijacking new advertisement browsers upon the visitor anytime the website's video player is touched by one's mouse's cursor, I had to resort to this uFLIX.to link. Once I got the movie to where I wanted it playing, and the player viewing screen was enlarged, all went well thereafter.

The lead actress was completely unfamiliar to me ─ Jessica Lowndes. She is fabulous!

Yet despite claiming that she in unfamiliar to me, her name appears within my Blogger labels, so she has likely been featured in some previous Christmas movie I cannot place.

I love traditional Christmas carols, and thus the music featured in this movie ripped me apart.

It may be incongruous to claim, but my emotional breakdown arises from a phenomenally intense yearning not to exist, for I have failed at life. I have accomplished nothing, and I am nothing more than a recluse hidden away from the world who is lonely and slowly dying away.

It seems to be what God had ordained for me. He supposedly intimately fathoms my complexities and quirks, so He is supposed to know that I cannot progress with the resources available to me. Only He can provide what is essential.

But He will not.

How can I believe other than that I am destined for oblivion?

I drank a can of Cariboo Malt (8% alcohol), and a glass tumbler of Domaine D'Or red wine (12% alcohol). The movie finished at ... maybe ... 8:35 p.m. or so.

My inclination is now to go to bed and avoid any contact with my brother or my wife when either get home. But I do have a hankering for that Planes, Trains and Automobiles movie, although I would like to not miss out on some morning tool shed token exercising tomorrow in the early a.m.

Right now it is 9:05 p.m. and only Bev and probably my youngest stepson are home. I am going to pause and spend the 15 or so minutes required to brush my teeth with coconut oil.

And I just heard my brother cough ─ evidently he is home. He and Bev just happened to be out of sight at the dining table and being unusually quiet.

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It required a bit better than 1½ shot glasses of Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum (35% alcohol), but I resolved on continuing my loneliness shut up here in my bedroom. My brother and Bev were too damned loud to be welcoming company, barely keeping it together with one another while watching 'whatever' on T.V. in the living room.

So despite the show running for something like at least 55 minutes sans any commercial breaks, I tuned in Heimebane ─ the season finale episode 10 ("The Great Escape").

I love this series! Their final season game was so damned dramatic and rousing ─ I wished I had something in my life like the people of that community for their football team.

I love the characters and the actors portraying them ─ even the subtitles are not too much for me. Again, I love this series!

I just hate that I have to watch such an episode at this WLEXT.is link. I lost count of how many ridiculous new websites this specific site hijacked me to each and every time my cursor touched anything whatsoever.

If there was only some other option, these idiots would have no visitors.

Regardless, the episode ended ... well, maybe close around 10:50 p.m., and I was to determine that my wife was home from work.

As I have typed away at this blog post update, she once wordlessly passed by my open bedroom door to go downstairs to the kitchen. I was to hear who apparently washing dishes for some while; and then she returned upstairs, again saying nothing as she passed by my room.

And so my barren life.

It is 11:25 p.m. as I close and publish this sorry post.