Jonathots Daily Blog
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Jonathots Daily Blog
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But I’m suspicious.
Both about feeling and about good.
Feeling seems to have such great promise until it arrives with its anemic personality and unnatural bend to the dark side.
First and foremost, it is not satisfied to just have a feeling—but instead, offers a diagnosis.
What I feel may be just a burpless bouncing of discomfort between my shoulder blades but is interpreted in my strain of brain as a pending heart attack.
I may just be a little breathless, but this is translated as respiratory failure.
Maybe lazy has won the day but it’s so much easier to declare it a pending crazy.
But I definitely don’t feel good.
How can I tell?
Normally, after my kitty-kat nap, I go into the bathroom, piss and brush my teeth before heading into the music room to begin my afternoon writing session.
I did not piss, nor did I brush.
I came right to the music room and was no bettered by deleting efforts.
Something’s wrong.
Now, there is a beauty to this—and there is an ugliness.
Let me begin with the ugliness.
The ugliness is that I can accidentally sustain this feeling of uncertainty by fostering self-pity.
I can baby myself right back into the nursery.
Why? Because I’m fat.
That means every chest discomfort could be a coronary.
Every breathless exhibition is my BMI trying to smother me.
And every single pain that might exist in my legs is my aging, tackling me for the grave.
So you see, if I don’t get out of this mode, it will turn into a bad mood and it can mold my whole evening.
So I come into the music room to talk to you about it today.
I am not anticipating sympathy.
I’m not requiring that you confirm your mercy in my direction.
I’m using you as a sounding board. Maybe abusing you would be more accurate.
Because I don’t feel good.
But I will tell you that even as I talk to you about this, I feel a little bit better.
That little tiny headachy part in the front of my brow is gradually dissipating.
I know it’s nothing serious—I know I’ve underdone something, when overdoing would have been welcome.
Or I’ve overdone a plate of something when a saucer was in order.
But it doesn’t make it any easier.
I am fully aware that I am childish about my concerns and need to at least deduct the “hypo” off of my “chondria.”
When will that happen? Is that gone for all time? Have I robbed my self of a urination and a tooth cleansing?
You can see, it can become very complicated.
I don’t feel good.
I don’t think it’s going to end with my demise.
But I have to admit, there are times it does reprise,
And is important for me to know how to surmise.
Jonathots Daily Blog
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What is the whisper?
Is it a begrudging apology offered in plaintive solitude?
Is it breathless uncertainty?
Is it suppressed by intimidation, hoping it no longer can be heard?
Is it intimacy?
Perhaps the words can be uttered without actually being recognized.
Is it gentleness?
Is it the timbre of a coward?
When do we whisper? Usually when we’re close.
Do we whisper when we’re apart?
Do we sometimes speak, hushed, knowing that no one will hear, but still enabling ourselves to complain because they didn’t?
Is there room in the natural order for the whisper to prosper?
Can I whisper and be confident; whisper and realize I may not be comprehended?
Is my whisper an objection to the brash cacophony that surrounds me every day?
Or am I just so uncertain of my own meaning that I’d rather remain unknowable?
How do we whisper?
Is it the best way to communicate to a single ear?
How close do the lips have to get to that one ear, often causing a tingling throughout the whole body?
Do great men whisper?
Do lions whisper? Or do they leave that to the meager mouse?
Yes, is whispering mousy?
Or is it a pious practice, conveying a holy calm?
Do I whisper?
And when I do, is it a choice of empowerment or a trembling of disbelief?
There is so much overpowering in the world that sometimes a whisper can receive unmerited appreciation.
For what good is there to speak something important if it is so quiet that it can’t be perceived?
What is a whisper?
Or is it brought out when we fear love?
A whisper.
Maybe it’s just the natural volume of our human soul.
Jonathots Daily Blog
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1. “Kumquat—another name for a woman’s orgasm.”
2. “I shot an arrow into the air and where it fell…is now a crime scene.”
3. “The 2020 college football season has been fumbled away, fearing illegal motion.”
4. “Is Ridin’ Biden the best way to Thump Trump?”
5. “I went to a family reunion during an election year and escaped with a broken nose.”
6. “When Jesus walked on the water, he realized it was time to clean out the lake.”
7. “If you can’t be sexy, learn how to tell a good story.”
8. “If you’re a kid nowadays and your parents call you special, you don’t know if you’re brilliant or retarded.”
9. “I used to laugh at old people. Now I bitch at young folks.”
10. “If you would give me thirty seconds notice before the world comes to an end, I will gladly tell you what I really think about humus.”
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 | Jonathan on 1 Thing You Can Do When Your F… |
| Anonymous on 1 Thing You Can Do When Your F… |
| Anonymous on 1 Thing You Can Do When Your F… |
| Anonymous on 1 Thing You Can Do When Your F… |
 | Nolan on 1 Memory About Jonathan Richar… |
 | Maxine Mantooth on Drawing Attention … Dece… |
| Steve on From the Stacks … Octobe… |
| Maxine Mantooth on Scrambles … October 20th… |
| Maxine Mantooth on From the Stacks … Octobe… |
| Maxine Mantooth on Scrambles … October 13th… |
A voice writing in the wilderness
Jonathots Daily Blog 