Charles
Journal
Charles
 Sunlight illuminates an alley in North Beach, San Francisco, where children are playing. What is the point of resolutions when, year after year, you fail to keep them? Perhaps you should consider setting smaller, more achievable goals by creating habits rather than resolutions. Habits are easier to maintain and gradually lead to larger successes. It's okay to reassess and adjust your goals as needed to better align with your current situation and priorities.
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 Snow invigorates and lifts the post-Thanksgiving gloom, transforming the brown, dreary landscape of Peekskill into a clean, white wonderland. This change in scenery brightens the mood and heralds the approach of Christmas. Snow also sets the perfect backdrop for cozy evenings by a fire, sipping hot cocoa and sharing stories or just chatting with your favorite person in a faraway land. Outside the window this early morning, the trees were draped in a thick layer of white, their branches glistening under the soft morning light. Below the hill, the ground was a smooth expanse of unbroken snow, interrupted only by the occasional tracks of a wandering animal. Flakes continued to fall gently, adding to the serene and magical atmosphere. After getting dressed, I went outside to observe the falling snow. The world was hushed, with the snow absorbing most sounds, creating a peaceful silence. Occasionally, the gentle crunch of my boots on the fresh snow broke the quiet, accompanied by the soft rustling of branches as more snowflakes settled.
  Luigi Mangione, the man suspected of killing UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson, was being held in a Pennsylvania jail on Tuesday but is expected to be extradited to New York City to face a murder charge in the fatal shooting. Had I come across a CEO murderer as charming as Luigi Mangione, the 26-year-old Ivy League graduate with ties to Maryland and San Francisco, last residing in Honolulu, I might have refrained from turning him in. I would have pretended not to have seen him and just walked away. It's hardly surprising that I've never been picked for jury duty. Indeed, this personal choice presents considerable ethical challenges. Overlooking a crime due to the perpetrator's appearance undermines justice and equality. Such prejudice may enable perilous behaviors, putting others at risk. It appears to mirror a disturbing pattern within American society. The Roman Empire lasted from 27 BC to 476 AD, indicating that. our country at 248 years old, have several centuries to equal Rome's duration before its decline. Allowing biases to influence our decisions can result in a society where justice is inconsistently applied, with certain individuals escaping accountability due to their charm or social status. The erosion of fairness may result in diminished trust in the legal system if it is perceived to disproportionately favor the privileged, particularly with a majority conservative Supreme Court. Such disparities have the potential to incite societal unrest and division, thereby challenging the core principles of democracy and equality. Goldfinger
He's the man, the man with the Midas touch A spider's touch Such a cold finger Beckons you to enter his web of sin But don't go in --Shirley Bassey  Cowboys and Angels: "When your heart's in someone else's hands, Monkey see and monkey do, Their wish is your command, You're not to blame, Everyone's the same..." The pub crawl that occurred last Friday was not the authentic one. It was organized by an imposter, not Ronan, who is the true architect of Peekskill's original pub crawl happening this Friday. The festivities begin at Gleason's with a live band serenading the Christmas-clad attendees. Although the precise time of arrival at Whiskey River is unknown, that's where I plan to join the celebration. Birdsall House, the last stop, may also be on my itinerary. Birdshall, notably larger than Whiskey, has the advantage of longer operating hours and is often the last legitimate bar open downtown. On the other side of the street in the 901 Main block, there's Tiffany's, a popular Latino hangout of mostly immigrant single men, which remains open late. However, rumors suggest it's a disreputable spot, recently implicated in a scandal involving an illicit operation and a startling crime. Tiffany's previously remained open until almost 4 a.m., but I believe their closing time has been adjusted to 2 a.m. now. It's the kind of place you'd rather avoid by crossing the street, given the character of the individuals loitering outside. While other venues are satisfactory, one often gravitates towards their preferred haunt. Whiskey River, known for its vibrant ambiance, excellent selection of craft beers, and signature cocktails, is no exception. The friendly staff and inviting atmosphere make it the perfect spot to spend the evening, not to mention the alluring bar snacks that further cement its status as a must-visit during the pub crawl or anytime.   He was striking, dressed aptly for the weather in a long coat and a thick scarf, his blond hair tousled by the wind. It took him some time to decide where to sit as he walked past me, but he eventually chose a spot that was just right for my view. Shedding his coat and scarf, the t-shirt he wore underneath only added to his allure. Some men are hard to miss, especially at the Peekskill Coffee House, where much like the bartenders of Whiskey River rather than its patrons—with a few admirable exceptions—men are pleasing to the eye and command your attention whether you want it or not. These men tend to be quite assertive, seemingly craving attention. I suppose if I had a dollar for every one that caught my eye, I'd be very wealthy and constantly in trouble, akin to Lindsey Buckingham's "Trouble," which woke me this morning. Lindsey Buckingham's "Trouble" resonates with its catchy rhythm and insightful lyrics. It delves into the complexities of love and the inner conflict experienced when drawn to something known to be detrimental. Buckingham depicts someone aware of their troubling predicament, likely a romantic entanglement in a song that echoes the universal conflict of the heart versus sound judgment. The song transcends mere melody, probing deep into human emotions and highlighting the difficulty of parting with a love that is as enticing as it is troublesome. It may have been written to express a personal journey or to connect with those who have faced comparable emotional tribulations. Today, I awoke to more than just trouble; I also faced a dreadful backache from an excess of acrobatics. Truly, youth is squandered on the young. But what of the rest of us with equal needs?
 The Peekskill Coffee House is a place where there's always something delightful to see. My writing has suffered lately due to the distraction of a house guest. He arrived at my doorstep seeking refuge for a few days after a terrible argument with his girlfriend who had the audacity to call the police on him to get out. Despite the inconvenience, I couldn't leave him out in the cold, although he does occupy an excessive amount of space in the bed for someone who weighs merely 130 pounds. Having him here has been a mixed bag of emotions. On one hand, I feel a sense of fulfillment in providing a safe haven for a friend in need, but on the other hand, the disruption to my routine has added stress to my writing process. It's a reminder of the delicate balance between supporting others and maintaining personal boundaries. Today's weather is bitterly cold, with light flurries and a gloomy sky. At last, I have the solitude I crave, hoping to accomplish more than in the previous days. While guests can be pleasant, I value my alone time far more. There's only one person in the world with whom I could coexist without distraction—a man who has my heart, yet lives on the other side of the globe. Maintaining a long-distance relationship requires constant communication and trust, which can be challenging across different time zones. The longing for physical presence becomes more pronounced during times of stress or loneliness. Yet, the anticipation of future reunions and the deep emotional connection can make the effort worthwhile. Later, after enjoying some coffee and a blueberry muffin and observing so much eye-candy downtown, I encountered a man who collects bottles for recycling. I believe he's Mexican, always friendly and waving. He frequents our neighborhood with his shopping cart in search of bottles. Although I suspect he might be homeless, he owns an SUV packed with black bags of bottles for recycling. I invited him over since I had about 500 bottles I hadn't gotten around to recycling myself. He was delighted to take them, and I was equally pleased to have them taken. He should earn approximately $50 from recycling the bottles. Another way to support local recycling efforts is by organizing community clean-up events where neighbors can come together to collect and recycle litter. Additionally, setting up designated drop-off points for recyclables can make it easier for residents to dispose of their materials responsibly. Finally, educating others about the benefits of recycling and how to properly sort materials can help increase participation and efficiency in the community. In the afternoon, the sun emerged, casting a warm glow and reducing the grayness for a brief period... When the winter wind is a-blowin', well you never know where it's goin' For the land is cold and the night is closing in You can feel your heart is getting older, you can feel the world is getting colder And it feels so good with you standing next to me Oh baby alright, I think I love you --Roger Hodgson, formerly of Supertramp  Winter officially starts on Saturday, December 21, yet the bare trees, having shed all or most of their leaves, already paint a stark and wintry scene in the Northeast.  While I prefer living in New York State over South Carolina—Charleston being the exception—New York's advantages are not always clear-cut despite its many benefits. The locals here, particularly in Peekskill, tend to be more genuine and less pretentious than those in California—San Francisco being the exception—and certainly more so than in South Carolina's Pee Dee/Grand Strand region. However, this blog is not focused on that, nor on regions or people at all. Instead, its purpose is to address my aversion to rats, which is particularly intense here in New York, unlike anything I have experienced elsewhere. I have seen them in the city, the size of cats, maneuvering through grates while carrying enormous slices of pizza, which initially frightened me. I thought I had recovered from that experience that no longer bothered me until now. Recently, a bold mouse or rat, which are all similar, scurried across my kitchen floor, an occurrence that horrified and prompted me to scream without being touched. The audacity of that creature to be there at all, uninvited with its dirty pink feet and beady black eyes that seem to convey a direct message, "na na na, you cannot catch me!" right in front of my face. Whatever it really said worked because I felt insane and couldn't sleep after the glass of water, I thought I wanted I didn't want anymore. I was determined to catch it as I had a brain fever. I was determined not to let it win. But at that time of the night, the creature scurried out of sight, and another one followed, the child or the mate or mother I supposed I knew was still there, lurking between the wall, concealed from my view and taunting me with an incessant nibble that kept my eyes wide open. No, I did not sleep. In fact, I did nothing at all except lie in bed, listening for any reoccurring movement; that was forlorn. My landlord states that this is a common during cold weather, as mice seek warmth in our homes, which I find unsettling. He has undertaken some repairs in the basement and set numerous traps; however, I remain uncertain about their effectiveness, as the noises within the walls continue to startle me endlessly. Although my lease prohibits pets, I have advocated for acquiring a cat avoid the cruelty of glue traps and the grim task of dealing with trapped mice. My landlord has given his approval, so it appears I will soon be adopting a kitten. The cat belonging to my upstairs neighbor recently had a litter, and one of the kittens has been reserved for me. But do I really want a cat, a kitten, I keep telling myself? Am I insane? Am I not enough for myself as I've always been? What happens when i want to be alone, completely alone and unbothered as I can be, and that kitten wants his belly rubbed? It'll be like now...assisting a Latin friend who is temporarily staying with me. He presents more challenges than I anticipated, but everyone needs help at times, and I have grown quite attached to him, despite my deeper feelings for someone else, in another place and time that works probably because it's at a distance. My walls are hard to break. In the case of this fellow young enough to be my son if I had a son but I never wanted one or a child, so the line ends with me the way it is...I am surprised by his struggles of low self-esteem that I listen to half the night, especially considering the significant Hispanic community here, which may or may not contribute to the issue. Hearing a grown man cry is a shock for me because didn't think man could cry and complain so much. I have never been a part of community, never apart of anything really except myself and the world I create is whatever I desire...except true friendships, IMHO, are difficult. Perhaps the perceived notion closeness of the community I see is merely that—a perception. Who knows what is considered normal is really normal at all with a mouse still crawling between the walls. Are you lookin' for a new love
Or does commitment seem to bring you down? Is that a look of yes or is it no? Please don't tease me, oh Want me, don't you want me To touch you and to hold you tight? Don't you want me like I want you To kiss and love all through the night? --Jody Watley, 'Don't You Want Me?' |
AuthorCHARLES PEARSON
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