I am stuck in what is called “The Velvet Rut.” Do you know what that means? It means I am so lucky I am not supposed to complain. Also I think it is some kind of unspoken law that when you are as old as I am you aren’t supposed to complain because after fucking all you should just be grateful to be alive.
I seem to have hit my Covid/pandemic/ Wall.
I can’t stand the cold. I can’t stand the loneliness. I can’t stand the pain.
Yes I live in the most beautiful and green and rainy place and I am a bad person for not being grateful but I am so fucking bored with the woods. I am sorry my pines, I do love you even though I am allergic to my friends the Cedar but all of you hugging me every day is not enough.
You are blocking my horizon.
Twelve years I have worked on appreciating all that I have here, and yes in your way you have been good to me but it’s not enough. You don’t love me and I don’t love you.
Why are you still here? Did I hear you ask. Well first I am stubborn, I kept thinking I could make it work. It never has with lovers why would it work with you?
And then came the radio. It was a mountain to climb, a challenge I needed and it felt good when I felt I sorta figured it out.
I will admit that the last three years have been the best, and that is even counting the Covid year of complete isolation because of doing Radio.
Ah, yes Radio. Thank you for the joy you have opened up to me, and I have worked hard and gotten better and have felt purpose.
Purpose becomes more important the older you get. So that purpose keeps me here but it’s not enough and my time is short.
I imagine my shows as love messages to my future.
The Buzzy Donahue Show 