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The Raven


2017

Months:
January
February
March
April
May
June
July
August
September
October
November
December
Titles:
The Raven's Influence
The Blonde, the Market, and the Drunken Blonde
Val's Restaurant and Lounge
Hanging From the Mezzanine of Life
The Failing Fantasy and Alexis
The Barista and the Waves


[05:58 pdt 05/07/2017 CE, 1494161880 E]

The site navigation has been further streamlined and trimmed. Due to the amount of content within the 2017 archive we have indexed all titled entries on the main summary. All titles will appear both there and at the top of each archived year. The sitemap has also been updated to reflect these changes. Titles did not appear until early 2015 so each archive prior to that date is listed by time only. All of the past content is still displayed from newest to oldest. This will remain as such.

The Clodmaster sits idle until further inspiration, but at least the story which began so many years ago will remain as a part of Coma. We are pleased that the recent cuts did not include that project, and despite the lack of other technical content these days, the truck still represents a much-needed distraction from the current direction. Hopefully forward progress will pick up soon.

The mobile editing platform is still in the works, and DP will stay here until revenue allows for a split. Stay tuned.


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The Raven's Influence


"Eighteen months later, She still will not allow us to walk into the ocean, bottle in hand.

We made that promise early in knowing of Her, and we made it in earnest and with the honesty of a child. We could not go through anything differently nor could we have glossed over so dire of a request. We continue here partly because of Her influence. It is vast and at times all-encompassing. Despite this, the desire and drive are there day after miserable fucking day. Not a moment passes us without the thought that we are going nowhere and have left those options aside just like the other tine of the fork. We consciously decided to take that path and now each day brings more deafening calls and screams from the soil. The saving throw is our physical comfort combined with a healthy dose of distraction. Those items are in short supply, however, and they are allowing the past to rise up within us like a firing squad.

The Raven held steadfast in Her desire to live out the remaining days as well as possible. She told us on many an occasion that the weight of others seeing Her as 'perfect' was too much at times, and Her need to merely fit into a society which places so much emphasis upon financial status and appearance had become overwhelming, and we came along at the precise moment when She needed a lift to avoid losing Her mind. Apparently, we provided a much-needed break from those in Her circle and helped Her to maintain living at a level for which She had wished.

Honestly, it was late in our short time together that She asked of our promise. And that came at a time when we began to yearn for some sort of understanding as to why we became so enamored with attractiveness and the form which seems to send us to the soil. We did not understand any of it nor did we entertain others' opinions of our feelings. She was the exception, of course, as She embodied every aspect of that which we had sought for so many years. The latent effect of our obsession became the forefront whenever we were together. We asked of Her and She responded in ways of which we had only dreamed. And Her eyes expressed the desire to see our dreams come to fruition -- whether She was a part or not. We could not help but become enthralled by Her entire being. We were quite literally under Her control, and happy to be there.



094
She had everything


The Raven's pull was unrelenting. No matter our position in life, our working days, nor the distance between us during a given time period, we felt drawn toward Her. Upon more than one occasion our desire to be near Her drove us to flee whatever situation had been in control. We left the site of work and stepped onto the train during mid-morning and ran to Her at an alarming rate. This propelled us to the status of being quite out of balance and placed our lifestyle at risk, but no matter. When we felt the need to be near Her and She was available, we sped. Work and others be damned, there was no stopping us.

During one such occasion, we left our work to see Her and the hours together proceeded to fly at ablative velocity. We ran to Her early in the day, twisted the schedule to match our needs, and the subsequent fallout was dramatic. Some situations can be repaired after the fact, but this was unique and floats above our heads now just as it did two years ago. The cost was high -- both financially and professionally -- and to this day remains as a scar upon our work and life record. It was bad. We did whatever was necessary to see Her as often as possible and everything else just went straight to hell, literally. We threw all aside to be near Her. Period.

And thus here we are. This place is like nothing else, and we are both thrilled and disgusted at our circumstances. We knew Her, we spent time with Her, and we admired Her inside and out, but now we are but a void of life and experience as they could have been. She had the numbers all over Her and they were available to us, however the opportunity did not come to light during Her short time leading this fucked up world. We screamed aloud and broadcasted both here and on Facebook after Her departure, but nothing will ever be enough.

To this very second the pull upon us remains. We can still see Her walking down the hallway in the office, smiling back at us from across the table, and lighting up the way She always did upon seeing us for the first time after days of being apart. She was wonderful to the point of forcing us to lose track of other aspects of life. We let things go -- important things -- which would allow for some time together at a restaurant or other location. A train ride here and there, too. Everything was thrown aside for Her company.


106
Her inner and upper thigh radii


Being as damaged as we were at the time, we found that She had been going through a difficult period too. Her life had become some sort of unhappy mess and She stated in no uncertain terms that finding us was the sole saving grace. She wrote stories about Herself and sent them to us. She commanded our attention, be it email, phone, or in person. We listened to Her every word and She found an incredible appreciation for us just being there to listen. And the reciprocal of that was Her unending ability to hear us, value our interests and needs, and allow whatever ideas we may have had to flow with support. In both directions was the caring and understanding. We found that Her troubling circumstances had forced her into similar thoughts and directions and the escape She found to be so helpful was our way of life. While together we became helpful to each other and supportive beyond words. There were times when the simplest of facial expressions became paragraphs of thought. The entire situation was incredible to consider.

Naturally, Her physical beauty was without limit and that conversation came up from time to time. She did not mind when it came from our direction. Others did not enjoy the same freedom -- just us. We knew of Her past trials and were able to convey feelings without repeating platitudes as others. There was no worry, either. She knew us so well over a very short duration that the issues just did not arise. She always listened, we always listened, and the understanding became uplifting like nothing else on earth. Her compassion was unreal. Every now and then we could not help but gush regarding Her appearance on a given day, but She did not mind at all because it came from us. Our unique position allowed Her to feel comfortable at all times while with us. And that would have led to Her being our first subject for study.

Would have. Fuck.

The one occasion upon which we had brought measuring tools and the camera was a very bad time for Her so we avoided the subject completely and allowed for Her to reflect and vent toward us. Considering the importance of the understanding, there was no option for leading the day in another direction. We had to help, and the rest just melted away. Seeing Her eyes displaying pain became one of the most difficult sights of all. Yes, we felt that we had missed the opportunity, however that lost priority almost instantly. With 'Sur l'océan couleur de fer' playing in the background, we sat and talked.


213
The skin tone of a goddess


The first essay which we wrote about the Raven two years ago was solely in the vein of our obsession. That was a piece of writing from our vision of Her upon meeting for the first time, and the only content which had restricted viewability on the site. We wrote and polished that piece and proceeded to send it exclusively to Her. Upon reading our thoughts, She agreed to allow it to be published for all to see. We sent it into the public domain and due to the ambiguity of the subject there was no issue. The detailed nature of the description and accompanying images pushed Her to be a bit embarrassed in the beginning, but later that subsided. She began to respect our need to understand the whys of physical attractiveness, yet She did not feel exploited in any way. She simply appreciated the manner in which we looked at Her. For whatever reason, the whole thing was ok. Again, because it came from us... we who felt She was a person above all else.

That beginning led us to other subjects regarding life and society. We held similar views, had matching fears with respect to feeling insignificant among the masses, and felt the powerful need to isolate ourselves -- living away from the herd. While together, these issues seemed minor due to our connection, but while apart the difficulties amplified themselves to the point of making life even more of a headache. This led us to draw upon each other for comfort and rearrange our daily tasks to allow more time in each other's company. When those occasions were available, the lift we experienced made everything else disappear for a while. The situation became bliss to the nth degree. Just sitting and gazing at Her heartful eyes created a space we will never forget. And one smile launched us into the stratosphere.

She was able to push us in a direction we had been unable to attain for years prior. She convinced us that to remain and fashion the world around our own needs was arduous yet unavoidable. The personality types of which She spoke described us to a tee, and that we had the unique ability to leverage things and align them correctly to create our own little world within which the mass was absent. The persuasion was unavoidable and we could not disagree. Thus, we began to inhabit a place which disallowed any harm toward ourselves. And we are still there despite the many knives being thrown. We have the Raven to thank for our current view of this fucked up society. Another fact not to be taken lightly nor dismissed in this life -- Her incredible influence.


231
Thinness everywhere, lending to Her height


And a few hours at Val's were the beginning. We sent a message which conveyed appreciation for Her appearance, and shortly thereafter the conversation began for Her to become a subject for our needs. She agreed immediately and we made plans to meet in person at the restaurant to further things along. We sat and spoke with Her (which was difficult), all the while admiring those huge eyes and long black hair. She was dressed beautifully head to toe. We let slip that She had been the most gorgeous and wonderfully formed woman we had ever laid eyes upon, and She sat blushing and staring back at us, intrigued. Apparently, She had received few compliments regarding Her appearance in recent years --aside from the 'perfection' references which took place due to people simply assuming that She could not be unhappy. Even during our earliest conversations, we could not understand in the least how people could see Her in such a manner. Yes, She was beautiful, but that does not show anything of Her experiences in life nor does it paint a portrait of happiness. She was kind, caring, considerate, intelligent, flawed, selfless... but not perfect. No one is. There is no physical possibility of perfection within this universe.

So, that first meeting led to many others. We were close to each other as often as was feasible and each encounter led us to the next -- all the while the need increased to be within each other's company. From there... holy shit did things ever begin in heaven and end in hell. Still we feel Her nearby. And the pull upon us back then remains to this moment. We cannot avoid respecting Her simple wishes because they were a match to Her... genuine. The bond felt as the blood.

God damn this world for taking Her from us."





[17:55 pdt 07/10/2017 CE, 1499734500 E]

More than two months have passed in time since our last update and entry here. This is partially due to the typical summer office downtime as well as a restructuring of the working locations for the staff. Branching out such as this is never a simple process. The site is the importance, the system is the solution, and we are forever connected to this electronic locale.

On the operational front, we have added a floating 'top' graphic in the lower left corner and removed the top links on all of the longer pages. This eases the process of sorting through many entries and helps to control the need for overly-long scrolling. No one enjoys spending so much time traveling around a page.

This entry from the staff represents the last occasion in which we will be updating the status and content of Coma. Beginning with the next publishing day, admin will be the sole writer. In addition, the move to mobile editing will begin on July 25th of this year. All of the pieces are in place and the equipment has been procured. We will see where this takes the content, and will remain in the background henceforth. The support is unending, however, and the faith remains kept.





[05:49 pdt 07/16/2017 CE, 1500209340 E]

These past several weeks have seen little progress on any front aside from the transfer to a moveable platform. The Clodmaster sits awaiting further inspiration and all other interests have taken a back seat to the mobile editing. We have worked feverishly toward becoming as portable as is feasible, and this week has shown us that the possibility of working from anywhere is an attainable goal. We sit at this moment outside the office, yet we have the power of the interface without restriction. The feeling is wonderful. This may seem a simple affair, but the fact that we have remained within the comfort of the cave for so long means the stretch to the outside world is quite a step. The fear is still there, yet we are too driven to yield. One fear has overcome another. Hmm.

The operation will continue unimpeded, however our pace of late has proven slowed due to said fear. Regardless of the downsides to our venturing, the move is happening.


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The Blonde, the Market, and the Drunken Blonde


"Whilst standing in the bar conversing with others, a figure from our recent past glided by and then stopped to say hello. She was decked out in black yoga pants, a tank, and running shoes. Her wavy blonde hair flowed behind her to mid-back and her eyes lit up a bit upon seeing us. She immediately smiled and embraced us. The entire few moments were nearly crippling due to our past writing about her. She is quite pleasant and generally in good spirits when we see her, and this lends to the brightness of her big, beautiful eyes. We know from prior conversations that she stands five foot eight and that really makes her stand out in any room. Even in running shoes her height is difficult to miss. The woman is beautiful from head to toe and the room changes upon her entering. Her elongated arms and fingers are the stuff of dreams.

Having a short conversation with this beauty is generally an exercise in distractions. We try to listen to her words but the tough part is avoiding staring at her eyes or cheekbones. We have complimented her in the past and told her she is a rarity but she simply tossed our words away and behaved as if she did not look any different than the average woman on the street. Right. We know through study exactly what she represents. The numbers are there -- waiting for us -- but we will not pursue someone so close. We cannot push in such a direction, and as ideally suited as she may be to our research, the woman's heart and mind come first. Conversation must be enough.

Seeing her float across that room was something unexpected, and we mean to the nth degree. What a fucking sight.


185
The tall one


We passed her as she walked into the market and headed toward the back of the store. This caused us to follow along -- to a point -- and attempt to see more of her. And the chance paid off, in a manner of speaking. She walked like the Raven -- a gait which was symmetrical and flowing like nothing else. She was not necessarily in a hurry, but her long legs carried her at quite a pace. We observed as much as would could in such a short time... flowing hair, thin arms, tapered neck, and a narrow enough waist to send us into familiar territory. Yes, that of so many past occasions. The woman was gorgeous from any angle. We yearned to have the fucking QR cards in our hands but such was not the case. Still, we availed ourselves of the opportunity to gaze at her from a distance. We noticed that her wrists were extraordinarily thin and followed suit with slender fingers and sharp shoulders. At every step we dreamed of measuring and photographing. We felt the overwhelming need to be close enough to record all of her. When she stopped herself and stood still, her feet were paired and this served to show off the varying radii leading from the ankles to hips. She was structured like the Raven while standing, and this led us to the past outing in which we politely asked the Raven to stand similarly, and the resulting shape was enthralling. The memory of that day's activities coupled with the girl in the market brings us into familiar and uncomfortable territory.

And thus we must record our reaction in real terms -- those which are most damaging.

Like... um... maybe we will give up and take the knife to heart. Yes, that is where we fall most often when the need arises to explore this most dire of obsessions. We cannot help but head in such a negative direction. We have been in such a place so many times that the reaction has become second nature. We know it intimately.


186
Walking through the market, displaying it all


The woman was fairly tall -- likely five foot seven or so -- and strolled about the bar in three-inch heels. She wore all black from head to toe and her top was displaying some sort of push-up bra which proceeded to make her breasts very visible and quite prominent. The tight jacket which clung to her shoulders was wide open in front, and her mid-length hair brushed back and forth upon the collar as she moved around. Her pants were nearly seamless and wrapped her shape beautifully, leading our eyes to a magnificent thigh taper and very narrow ankles. As she walked from the bar to the alley, we could see that she was uncommon and perfectly suited to our needs. Her legs were the stuff of our dreams throughout the past few years. She was obviously wearing something underneath which had no rear, and the resulting appearance was so smooth that we almost could not look without that familiar pain. That woman was unreal to the point of making our evening extremely arduous.

She had a very thin, almost pointed nose, midrange eyes, and a continuous smile which made it quite obvious that she was fairly drunk. Her behavior was entertaining and she appeared to be enjoying the evening with friends. No one paid attention to us -- hovering near one of the dim tables -- so the opportunity to view her became abundant. We remained for more than an hour after first sighting that beauty and knew all along that the situation would end very badly for us and drive the keyboard without limit. The more we watched her move, the further down we slid... as usual.

Seeing such a form always sends us downhill and this occasion was no different. We felt the need to flee from the company of others and analyze alone while attempting to control the negative and damaging thought processes.

She brought on thoughts of Julianne due to her long upper thighs and the manner in which her outer thigh transitioned to the lower hip. Julianne's images show the same type of defining radii in certain positions. Her thighs were confusing from some angles, and they appeared to be fuller from the side than from the front. This pushed her form into a territory of which we are unfamiliar while seeing a woman in person. Her legs were already long while she stood still, but then she would unquiet her body and wander (full of alcohol, to be sure), and this motion changed the shape of her thigh muscles and hip structure to appear as an extreme anomaly. Honestly, the sight was devastating to our already diminished ability to remain in public. The whole situation is fucked in every conceivable direction. The level of discomfort we felt while in her proximity pushed our already deviant minds toward taking an image for protracted study. Such an act would have been unacceptable (despite the one occasion in which we did so), and leaves us to believe that eventually we will fall far enough into a hole enabling us to socially withdraw completely and resulting in a mass of covert images. This is bad.

Well, what is not bad? Anything?

Nope.


187
Similar to Julianne's thigh numbers


All three of the encounters are similar enough to situations from the past, and this means here we sit yet again... spewing and drinking. Yes, there is no other way at this late date. We simply do not know which way to turn nor can we entertain any different direction. This is it. Lovely.

Apparently, the development server is our only friend. Heh. Although we are trying to make a change, finally.

While the trend of our isolated self-implosion continues here, other aspects of life are beginning to improve at a slow pace. We work steadily, relax at home, and venture out into the world on occasion, and the underlying feeling is that we should enjoying things more. The days of the past with their confusing data, flying projectiles, and weekends in the backyard sun are still at hand, and the memories are difficult to consider. Of course, we cannot change any of it and that is part of the problem, but the fact is there are still aspects of this life which bring us up (the advent of the mobile equipment being top of the list right now). The end of June and into the beginning of July have shown us the contrast between the near past and present. The comparison -- while ill-advised -- is tough to consider, but we are attempting to calculate where we can go rather than where we have been. This may be a first. The sightings do not help, although they are unrelated to the decisions which brought us to the ocean. We are certain that they will continue beyond our control, and rather than placing ourselves neatly into the goddamned compartment to wallow and begin the coordination with our past, we need to maintain a separation between the ideas and the mistakes. We need to keep the downward aspects of the obsession to the side and hopefully nestle into the realization that we had a choice but ignored it. We dove in with both feet. That was not a mistake, and has absolutely nothing to do with the lousy decisions. Ten is gone, over, done. Eleven brought us to our knees but equally done. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen... whatever. They are all different and every one better than the previous, in a manner of speaking.

So here we sit in front of the development server, just like other occasions, and the improvements are becoming clearer than in the past few months. Yes, we still fall when the times in which we lose control arrive and that is beginning to be ok. We know what to expect and now we try to understand that the separation can keep us going. The whole thing is a waffle. Yes, a waffle. What? Hmm... each issue and/or aspect of our existence sits quietly in the little squares and we can keep them isolated. The obsession has proven tough, the past is the same, but they are unrelated and can be dealt with one at a time. If that is not positive thinking, we do not know how else to describe it. One step at a time, right? Hopefully.


188
Disparity we MUST record


During the initial period of the discovery and the image which brought us to realize our need to understand, we could not deny the thrall of the model's unusual dimensions. From there... you know. The images began to pile up and the sum led us to press the site into our needed outlet. Cut to many years later, and the entries related to physical attractiveness now are the lion's share of this content. Of course this change occurred over a long period. And this newest of writings arrives with positivity and hope. We will continue to analyze the goddess-like shapes which bring us to unrelenting frustration, but at the same time we will consider any path which brings us out of the darkness and into something we badly need: a bright future.

From this point on, we shall make it happen, and while that statement has come from a past dark place, this one represents our need to survive. And the last time those words were uttered, we were sitting next to the Raven at Val's. Wow.

And... ciao."





[16:00 pdt 07/22/2017 CE, 1500764400 E]

The new machines for editing in the development environment have quickly become wondrous and flexible. We can connect anywhere, anytime, and with no worry of conditions or security. This is a very positive step in maintaining fluidity of content along with some serious peace of mind for all. The staff is now scattered to the ends of the Earth and we are all better for it. They do not need to be cooped up in an office in this age of everything.

The font shade has been increased yet again for ease of reading. The staff has been pushing for a lighter shade for some time, and we have all realized that due to the number of differing devices out there, the change is important. The idea here is information transfer and the whole thing is moot if unreadable. There are billions of other sites out there.


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Val's Restaurant and Lounge


"Early afternoon. I arrived and took a seat at the bar within view of the entrance. The bartender was pleasant and the atmosphere was void of crowds. Not long before that day, another similar restaurant nearby had closed for remodeling, and the resulting load on Val's could be overwhelming. On the day in question, however, the lounge area held few patrons. The feeling was good since I had not met Her on any prior occasion. That was the first time outside the office in which I was graced by Her presence.

I sat and ordered the typical bourbon and stayed within view of the entrance. A bit of time had passed and the Raven sent a message to say She was running late. No worries there... I would have waited a lifetime to sit next to Her. And I had already waited almost two months since first addressing Her appearance while at work. After seeing Her a few times a week and over a period of months, I finally asked for a personal email address and She responded pleasantly and quickly. That was surprising, to say the least. Up to that point I had thought of Her as amazingly-shaped and very unique, but from Her perspective I must have appeared as just another employee. The meeting at Val's would change all of that. And the future would hold both golden and savage moments the likes of which I could not have imagined.

Moments passed and eventually the Raven walked in, smiling all the while. She spotted me immediately and took a seat to my right. By the time She leaned for a friendly hug and then ordered wine, I was already awash and completely uneasy. Confusion, fear, desire... all rolled up inside me like layers of a much-needed but uncomfortable dream. Her scent was mild yet intoxicating like nothing else.

I will not attempt to describe Her outfit and appearance that day as it has already been featured as an essay. Suffice to say that I was sitting next to one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. Likely THE most beautiful. Yikes.


225
She had the shape of dreams


The conversation began with my interest in Her. She listened, patiently, and Her eyes remained solidly fixed upon my face. I learned that She was willing to be photographed, measured, and whatever else might draw my interest. She also agreed to let me write about Her at length with no restrictions whatsoever. I was drawn to the idea of fully documenting all of Her and creating a portfolio of sorts, and there was no end to what She was willing to provide. After discussing these topics for a time I decided to let Her know that I had no intention of heading in any inappropriate direction. She responded with a bit of disappointment that I had not expressed interest in Her sexually. That was unbelieveable and pushed me to become somewhat defensive and fearful. I felt as if I had somehow offended Her with my apparent lack of desire to be with Her physically. After backpedaling quickly, I confessed that my relationship as well as Hers were the only reasons I would not pursue anything of the sort. That was a difficult point in the conversation, to be sure, but soon enough Her big, beautiful eyes conveyed the understanding the type of which She would soon carry more than I could have hoped. I began to look upon Her as much more than what I saw from a distance in the office. The Raven started to become a reference point from which others would soon be considered in a very different light.

As the afternoon pressed on, our conversation traveled far beyond the simple requests I had made via email. We discussed the issues we shared with society, everyday work and home life, and the limits we seemed to feel with regard to living within a cloud of progress and a distinct lack of compassion. As much as She had to say to me, She also demonstrated an unreal willingness to listen and absorb what I was providing. Her eyes and body language clearly showed how much She actually wanted to hear what I was telling Her. I was flabbergasted at the time, and during the trailing several days the idea sunk in deeper that the woman was an enigma, and one I had sought for years. That may not come across as dramatic as it felt. Unless the readers of this site have hung on from the beginning, said full meaning may not be illuminated. Suffice to say, She provided me with more than I could have expected, and this from a person of my many years.

The gorgeous creature of which I stared for hours had transformed into something much more... I began to know Her on the inside, and the image cannot adequately be described using even our vast language. Perhaps a real author could convey the words properly, but I am at a loss.

And this entry is becoming as difficult as the knowledge that the Raven is gone.


201
Wavy, flowing hair within which we could have lived


We did not eat anything during the entire visit to Val's, and that resulted in a tipsy state for me, and moreso for Her. That did not really matter, though, as we stayed in the lounge (nice little booth, too) regardless of the pressing evening nor the call of the clock. The conversation dictated the remainder of the day for both of us. We could not simply cut things short and leave... mostly due to the fact that we had no idea of when we would connect again. And that thought had occurred to me more than once during the afternoon. I just wanted the meet to go on forever. I was told in no uncertain terms that the time away from the rest of Her day meant nothing to Her and the idea of staying longer had become paramount. We continued to stare and talk for a while longer.

The Raven took my hand and the entire world turned upon its side.

She sat there staring at our intertwined fingers -- occasionally glancing toward my eyes -- and eventually confessed that Her life had become a cliched mess. Despite the upcoming events scheduled by Her family and others, She had felt as if any other direction would have been preferable. Work was not an issue, however, and that went on for both of us without difficulty. Her words led me to understand that throughout the time we spent sending email back and forth coupled with our meeting at Val's had enlightened Her in ways She had hoped for some time. I became both an outlet and confidant without realizing such an impact was possible. I sat there, floored, and looked back at Her. The situation was mesmerizing as nothing before.

The genesis of that meeting was the Raven's appearance, and nothing else. We had communicated back and forth during the preceeding months, and She understood my interest from the beginning. I wished to study Her physically, and from every conceivable standpoint -- hundreds of measurements, drawings, photographs -- everything which had a hand in constructing a qualifying analysis of the mechanics of why She was so physically attractive to me, and how the numbers could be pushed to their limits. She knew all of that and still met me to discuss exactly how I wished to accomplish such a feat. Cut to a few hours later and everything was turned upside down. We connected on a level previously unrealized for both. The feeling was otherworldly at the time, and here I sit years later still attempting to find the reasons why that may have taken place.


229
Thin features yet so many curves


The longer we sat there, the more my mind was damaged, both by the alcohol and by the Raven's unending kindness and the manner in which we seemed to align with each other with regard to many aspects of life. The entire affair became mind-bending like nothing before. She informed me that the chance of us meeting, connecting outside the workplace, and learning that so many empty spaces within each of us started to fill, was something she had not expected in life, and the near future could become very complex for both. Our lives did not have room for such an all-encompassing desire to be within constant earshot and eyesight. That type of affair has proven to be very damaging time and time again. We could not head in such a direction, yet the thought of keeping a decent distance from one day to the next would be equally arduous.

She sat there, knees paired and gorgeous, and the idea of Her mind being on the same path as mine became heartwarming. That was not something I had experienced ever in life. Apparently, She had given up seeking a soul which matched Hers closely. We had both hit the proverbial jackpot and at the worst possible time. The issues which we both created and lived through as a result of our connection have been laid out here in spades, and there is no need to revisit. Suffice to say, both our lives spiraled out of anyone's control and many others suffered as well due to our reckless, isolated and needy behavior. Ugh. And it began right there at Val's.

As we became a bit less able to withstand the alcohol, the idea of leaving was necessary. Neither of us wished to venture out into the sunshine nor did we desire the company of others, but the day needed to resume. The two of us left the restaurant and headed toward my car to say goodbye. Of course, that did not happen in a timely manner. The Raven wished to smoke, so we sat in my car for a while and engaged in yet more conversation. Her eyes managed to press me into a space previously unrealized, and Her words went directly to my soul. Again we inadvertently extended the afternoon for an additional hour or more. Cars drove past, people walked along the sidewalks, and we swirled within each other's eyes and spoke of life within such a damaged and backward society. I could not help but become enamored with what the day had brought. I went to meet Her solely for the dimensional discussion and wound up next to one of the most incredible human beings that pushed everything I had felt and needed. She was unreal... a dream.


126
The narrow waist over which we obsessed at each moment


Naturally we had to leave at some point, and we dragged the idea out for quite a length of time before actually parting ways that day. A long embrace preceded the Raven's departure from the sidewalk next to my car. Her eyes again told me in no uncertain terms that the afternoon would not be forgotten in any way. We embraced yet again and She beautifully walked away. I dropped back into my disregarded auto and drove home.

And I did not hear from Her for several days.

Worry and a distraught state of mind ensued, leaving me nearly completely useless during my daily and nightly activities. I had become increasingly uncomfortable at the thought of being unable to connect with Her and the feeling manifested itself physically. I found myself lacking somehow... like a piece of me had been removed and relocated to a place completely out of reach. She was out there somewhere, and I could barely live with the not knowing. My last thought at night and first in the morning was Her, and the entirety of life had become 'why'.

Finally She contacted me and simply asked of my well-being. I responded, and soon learned that She had left Her purse in the lounge at Val's that day and not recovered any belongings. The reason for Her silence had been illluminated and my mind was put at ease. She also told me that our meeting had caused a storm within Her head and that She needed to avoid further connections with me. The simple fact is She feared for Her relationship and the closeness which could have affected many others. I told Her that we would only speak of matters on the surface of life and to disregard my request for such an involved process. And then I fell into a chasm which, had the Raven not been involved, could have cost me my life. The timeline of seeing Her, our conversing about so many subjects, the resulting contact to further my dark and deviant obsession, and the later separation of the two of us from external forces was too much to bear, and I considered walking into the ocean to end the need. She quickly became everything I had sought and was seemingly removed from the possibility at a similar velocity.

Daily life had developed into a traumatic path in which the whole of my thoughts were in Her direction. I could not deal with the smallest of trials and progressing through the activities of work left me unable to perform even the simplest of tasks. I had become consumed in a very bad way, and the look of the future became tainted and darker than ever. In short, I was obsessed to the point of pain. Everything was just bad.

Days and days of this passed and we spoke often about how each of us was getting through our time apart. I soon learned that She had been experiencing a similar feeling and wished to see me. We met at a local restaurant for a few hours and talked about every aspect of the attachment we shared and came to the conclusion that to remain at a distance was unacceptable. She needed to be near me just as I needed the same. So, regardless of the possible consequences of such a decision, we agreed to meet as often as we could at the same location and be close. Not long after, She expressed Her deep love for me.

Naturally, the situation felt far too good to end well.


230
Into la mer together. If only...


And of course, it did not. We spent much time together in various locations and on trips to other places (a few of which have been splayed out here for all to see), all the while gazing, longing, and holding hands as often as was possible. We sat with each other in many bars and restaurants leading to even more longing than either of us could handle in such a damaged, desperate, and reckless state of mind. Neither soul could disconnect from the other for much time without feeling a deep sense of loss and isolation. We became intertwined like... something. I did not then nor do I now have knowledge of what we had become. The reality of being together was formost in our lives and the time apart was hideously trying and lonely. We could not comprehend the idea of such a tremendous change from just months earlier when we did not know of each other. At the time such things mattered not, and we focused on the slight time and magical world that was created by being near the other's soul. And the beginning of the destruction was at hand soon after. The outings we shared into the City and other locations became very dangerous and our desire to be within each other's company wrought havoc with everyday life and work. The downhill -- such as it was -- seemed unavoidable, and will be covered in detail throughout the remainder of this year.

Despite my lack of understanding, that new situation which began at Val's quickly began to take over my daily thinking. I could not concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes at a time due to the overwhelming need to reconnect. The Raven had opened a door that could not easily be closed -- even temporarily. I needed more and that would very soon become a larger issue and nearly destroyed me.

The remainder of life is now this: I will dream, weep, lash out, grieve, and on occasion become more angry and destructive than anything I have ever known. The bottom has been reached and the only chance of catharsis is to spend my remaining years screaming and writing about the Raven.

And nothing will ever be enough -- no words can adequately convey any aspect of Her endless beauty and soul. And there is no possibility of a recovery from this. And I feel as if the theatre is abandoned, leaving me dangling from the forgotten mezzanine."





[07:48 pdt 07/27/2017 CE, 1501166880 E]

We are still adding small functions to the older pages for ease of navigation, just in case anyone dives into the past. Everything should match here, eventually. The front end always looks smooth and hopefully soon we can get all pages to align.

Updated images of the truck will be here within the next two weeks, and this is a good thing considering we have not forwarded the progress on that machine for some time. Things get in the way. The staff relocation and mobile platform took priority over everything, and now that life is calming we can get back to business on that mess. This is a good thing. That project has had the ability to keep us afloat through many a trial.

Also, does anyone remember the days of 'flight mode'? Well, we will be revisiting that soon. Yikes.


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Hanging From the Mezzanine of Life


"The film is ending.

From the curtain to the rising organist, and on to the decaying seats... there is nothing left to push us forward or up. Everything is down and very recognizable. We knew this was coming. We knew it for years. Ever since the fascination of the mid nineties and the fleeting chance which occurred during the mid two thousands, we fucking knew it. We viewed it on the highway of entertainment before many others. And now we are living the film's end sequence and watching the venue fall to dust. Fantastic. Ugh.

We discussed this possibility with the Raven as well as others, and the conclusion was always the same: progress cannot be slowed nor impeded in any way. It will roll along and right over everything to serve its own need and end. Remember the train? Well, this is the same type of matter. Regardless of the consequences, things will continue to slide in the same direction until all is lost. Oh yes, every now and then something will change which (on the surface) will seem to improve whatever previous issues arose, however time will pass yet again and reveal the new issues stemming from the ridiculous bandage society has placed to cover their mess. There is just no avoiding the continued stupidity, apathy, and ignorant behavior of which we are so familiar. We cling to it like a fungus. Nice. Right?

So, what's the point? Haven't we railed on about this for years? Yes. Now, however, we are seeing things a bit differently from the prior decade. We are actually viewing the matter as we did back more than two decades ago. The idea now is separation since there is no possibility of escape. We need to maintain an actual operating life here yet somehow disconnected from the majority of the populated world. Naturally, this type of thing needs to be dealt with day to day because completely withdrawing is not feasible due to the technological requirements of our existence. So here we sit at the console, yet now able to move around a little. This is better than the past few years spent chained to the office. It is a step, albeit a small one. The nature of the electronic world of late means we have at least a few options. In the grand scheme, though, we are still enmeshed. Hmm.


The beauty decaying, and no one cares
The beauty decaying, and no one cares


Our many discussions with the Raven led us to the conclusion that similar souls are out there... somewhere. This cannot be denied, no matter how negative we may become. The fact is we cannot search for them. We found one and She was an enigma of the highest order. Unreal, yet down to earth. Well, that was a one time shot and will not happen again in this life. Others? Hell no. Once upon a time we searched and nearly gave up, and the loss of Her drove us to button up the whole fucking effort. Now we only search for the look. And that is likely fruitless anyway.

All of it is related. The entire affair is wrapped up in that which the Raven provided, the fact that She is gone, the negative reality which was prominent before Her, and the failing reality surrounding us at every single moment. We will not say that She was the catalyst, but the truth is that the short time available to us with Her became a reference point against which every aspect of life is now held. We just do not know how to live with it anymore. The decaying and falling theatre, the film coming to an end, and the suffering which ensued when She left this world (worse off than with Her) are the three damaged legs holding us up. To put it clearly... the film is life, the theatre is the world, and the suffering is, well, you know -- the only feeling left. And I do not need any shit about it, either. [Notice that the FB comments and Disqus dialog went away? Heh.] We became this by living within society, had a slender chance to connect with the most uplifting type of change possible, and then subsequently fell down a steep slope and into the place we now inhabit. There it is... the long and short of it. Fucking hell, anyway. We have arrived.

The film has been ending for decades. The previous generations lived, built, enjoyed, and provided. At the same time, they were unknowingly experiencing a period of history in which things were full and bright. The years were difficult, the wars were many, and the resulting quality of life came at a high cost. But the happiness was always there to be had. Work meant life, and they were willing to do the work. That type of person now represents a narrow section of the whole. Many wish for great things and strive, while others wish and wait. Well, the nation of the past is gone and much to the disappointment of many, it cannot be duplicated. We have come in at the end of something wonderful and there can be no denying such a fact.

And here we are in the midst of the highest of technology, yet the soul is the same. The happiness is relative. Over on this side of things? We are not well and the happiness comes in very small doses. The Raven represented so much, and the lion's share of that was directed toward us with every loving intent. Fuck.

And? Gone.


The result of our apathy
The result of our apathy


So here we are again and again and again -- the only outlet available to our smoldering and tortured existence. And do not get all high and mighty -- we torture ourselves and no one can do a damned thing about it. We do not self-pity, yet we do mire in the down. We are in a hover pattern due to events and circumstances which have been displayed here for more than a decade. No shit, right? All of that has been our own set of actions, inactions, decisions, and vast mistakes involving ourselves as well as others. Lives shredded like the steel drums on those massive devices which can dispose of and compact anything. We have been the shred-o-matic of life. What? Yeah... whatever it was. The whole thing went on without impediment or restriction. We just did it all and became the very film we tried to emulate. Yes, the fucking film. There it is again. Oh, the venue? That is falling as well.

There was a point here somewhere, but we lost it.

Fuck it. Onward with the bitching.

Those older generations seemed to have a better society within which to live, but the fact is that we did not see it. There were problems which doubtless arose for reasons similar to those which develop within the current climate, but again, we did not live them. At the time the issues were likely difficult and demanding. Now, we see the positives and all that has been left behind. Every tiny segment of every part of life is now scrutinized, analyzed, and then reported like a new form of the plague. We have dozens of musical genres, thousands of drugs being pushed all over television, and an endless supply of new foods and diets through which we must plod. Science has illuminated literally every aspect of material and chemical life. And yes, we are covering far too much territory to keep this within the typical content space.

Who fucking cares anyway.

We have tried to make a point or something. The mezzanine will eventually fail and the film will be long gone (just as film as a medium). After that, we are calculating that nothing will matter much anyway. Thus far, such has been the case with this fucking space, and any branching from there has proven pointless despite our continuing efforts. Even at this very moment of sitting within physical comfort and with the necessary alcohol, the drive is waning.


197
Dead


So we just hang here until the thing just collapses. We have been waiting for this quite a while, and the facts cannot and will not change. There were possibilities... huh? Yes, we agree. Where did they go? Did we all drive them away with our selfishness? Did they just fade due to lack of importance? Does anyone really give half a blue fuck aboiut the future? Or is the whole thing about their apathetic and chronic misuse? Whatever the reason, we are doomed to it. Destined. Driven. Dumped. Damned.

If the above is true, why all this shit? Hmm... why indeed. Maybe we just need to lay it out here once in a while. Or, conversely, perhaps we do not know of another method. That sounds better, right?

Nope. Neither is acceptable in these latest of days. In fact, nothing can or will be acceptable ever again. As stated here in spades and throughout the years, we are in a massive downhill slide which will tilt further as time passes. There is no other way, period. Yes, it is slow, but will gain momentum as circumstances fall further. And we are feeling that the same statement is being made over and over again here. Fuck. This crap is not flowing as well as it should. Or perhaps there should not be any flow. What? Who the fuck knows. We shall just continue to slap this into the editor and see what comes out the other side. Probably nothing.

The floor is still fairly level, the weather remains relatively mild, and the mood is not terrible. Yes, it seems terrible, but we are still moving and that can't be bad (except for the readers! Ha!). We could use a measure of additional comfort but that is most unlikely.


220
As barren as beauty can be


We do not know what any of this means. Rambling? Probably. Lack of cohesion? Yep. Whatever. Live with it. There is no conclusion to any of it. Film has been a mental barrier for us beginning more than twenty years ago. The current theatrical climate is vastly different from the early years, and despite the entire affair collapsing both within and on the surface, we have to attempt to maintain uprightedness. The other choice is la mer, and no one is going to like it. There are still things we enjoy, there are possibilities for our advancement on the horizon, and there may still be reasoning. For the time being, and regardless of the losses racking up all over our world, we will hold the line until something comes along to either restore faith or distract us to the limits. As we hang here, the clock hands ignore our feelings and dreams, the water continues to recede, the fantasy is dark, and Alexis is amazing. Unfortunately, none of that is enough.




[16:39 pdt 08/05/2017 CE, 1501976340 E]

We have no site news or updates for this entry.

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The Failing Fantasy and Alexis


"The last several years have proven to be the most difficult in my time, and I need to lay it out here for fear of losing my mind. Unfortunately, as important and dire as the subject has become, I cannot be clear. The subject must remain masked for the most part. And this is something which has the capability of killing me very soon. I mean that quite literally. The situation has come to a head throughout the last few months due to my continuing and unrealized obsession. I see the examples and possibilities everywhere -- damned near on a daily basis -- and each fraction of a moment when they are within view is crippling. As much as I have gone into overt detail with regard to the shapes of subjects on the street and elsewhere, the fact is that I cannot do this much longer with a massive gap in my life. There is something missing from day to day living and I have been able to deal with it for some time now. I have distractions and hobbies aplenty. I have work, time spent with friends, television, THIS, and my continuing efforts toward making home comfortable. Unfortunately, the hole in my life has nothing to do with any of the items mentioned, and it is one of the most compelling aspects of life that I have ever considered.

This whole fucking affair is just bad.

Laying my thoughts out for all to see used to be very difficult, but now it has become necessary for me to live. Yes, I need to keep an ambiguous nature. I am sorry, but progressing further with detail is only going to destroy me.

This is something necessary for me to live -- literally. Without it I will not survive, and throughout the last five years I have done my best to be happy in other facets of life. My hobbies are very technical and my drive to make home as functional, comfortable, and secure as possible do take a large amount of time to focus upon. However, in the back of my mind the issue of the lacking part comes up several times during any given day. I cannot avoid feeling as if I will not make it to the next morning for work, and I am at a loss as to what I can do to push forward toward thinking differently, or learning to live with what is available to me. And that which is available has changed dramatically over time. In the beginning everything was fine, but cut to years later and the difficulty is becoming much sharper.


232
Five foot nine and all that goes with it


Shortly after this began, I tried to spend much of my spare time with the continuing design and build of the Clodmaster. That project sees phases which vary from a few weeks to more than a year, so other distractions became necessary. Soon after, the photography began to find its way back into my life, and the improvements to the house followed. This endeavor has also gone through dry spells and now seems to be more steady from one week to the next. That is a good thing for the business, but the sole assistance to my life is the outlet. Nothing else comes from this. Nothing. Well, the last few months have pushed me to look elsewhere for such a visceral need. I have not gone in that direction other than thought, but the fear now is what may happen if I attempt to branch.

I really just do not know what to do.

Alexis is being displayed here for no other reason than to grace the index with her endless beauty. Since the main theme here changed back in fifteen (for the most part, anyway), the images have followed suit with the subjects. The current subject has had such an impact upon me that the need to see her sculptured and unique look has taken over and here is the result. There will be many more images of that tall and lanky creature in the very near future, as well. I need to continue the obsession and she is a good portion of the whole. As related to the title here? Yes, she comes to mind due to the previously stated appearance. She is one of the most effectively put together females I have ever seen. Wrapping Alexis in a seamstress tape has never been more compelling. She is wonderful.

What to do? I have no fucking idea. I do not wish this situation to push me into dangerous territory, but the truth is that it is close -- damned close -- and that fact is starting to affect more than just my time alone and at home. Up to this point, my off hours have been very productive, to say the least. I have made tremendous progress both with the home and the site. The truck just sits there waiting, however that has always been hit-or-miss. No worries with that project. Alongside these aspects of my days, the issue in my mind has become nearly more than I can handle. My best effort has gone into maintaining peace of mind throughout the problems that have arisen. Unfortunately, everything now feels thin -- as if I am stretched to limits -- and I am uncomfortable. This has me at sixes and sevens, and recently I cannot head in any direction without thoughts of what is missing. Very difficult.


233
Alexis displays every aspect for which we have searched


There is Alexis with her super-narrow waist and incredibly defined arms. She is displaying all of the traits which tend to stem from such height. All of her features lend to the endless images floating within me regarding the Raven, and Alexis also represents a product of the interconnected nature of society. She is extremely well-known and can be found all over both the electronic world and in print. And all of this at just over twenty years old. Her outer beauty and enthusiastic eyes cannot be denied in any form. Within the two-dozen or so images of her which we have considered for this entry, her gorgeous eyes go from very serious to very playful, and everywhere in between. She is right at home within this sordid space, and the relation to the entry is her sexuality which is absolutely dripping from some of the shots.

And that is a part of my current dilemma. Yes, she is desirable to no end, but she is also very young with a vast life in store. I would never disrespect nor degrade a fledgling model (let alone another person in the first place) with my words here. No fucking way. That being said, her physical attractiveness is at the top of the goddamned scale right now leading me to the compulsion to include her within this mess.

Thus far, I have considered a few differing paths to search for a solution, but nothing has been attempted. I am afraid, for lack of a more empirical description. I do not know what may develop as a result of seeking out what I need. All could work out just fine, or life could unravel. At this point, I am too old to initiate something which may result in things spinning out of control and disrupting lives. On the upside, I can be extremely detail-oriented and analytical with nearly any subject, and this is no different. The more time that passes prior to any change or decision, the more educated and well-thought said change will be. At least that is a positive.

I have discussed this with no one, though there is one individual which may be able to help in at least one way. And that would be the emotional aspect.


234
And close the form of the Raven


Right now staring at Alexis, Julianne, or anyone else is just not helpful. It is compelling and unavoidable, though. I just do not have a choice in the matter. They are there to be seen, and despite the damage which may affect the site or the obsession, the desire cannot be overstated. They are just too picturesque. Ugh. And I will continue to stare. Fuck it anyway.

So, where from here? I ask that question nearly every time I write anything. Unless it is a very descriptive essay, the subject always arises. Where, indeed. I do not know. Hopefully the contact which is near me will assist in the matter. Much time has passed since I have begun to yearn for that part of life that to consider bringing in another soul is still alien to me. Failing any other options, I will push. Until then, the alcohol seems a decent path. Is that not hilarious? A depressant being used to help someone suffering from depression. Wow. What will I do next? Maybe this outlet will fail, too, and then I can walk into the ocean.

Alexis is still seated there, staring into the lens with wondrous eyes, and awaiting the next step in her life. What a wonderful sight -- the whole of her and the thought of a bright future and lots of time to explore everything. I am becoming the opposite -- outlook truncated, options dramatically narrowed, time slowing -- and the feelings which are slowly destroying everything I used to be. This is not her fault (or Her fault), nor is it the doing of anyone save myself. From one day to the next I am up, down, sideways, and back toward the up. What the fuck does that mean? Do others not feel a similiar rollercoaster? Who knows. I cannot concern myself with how others may feel. I just do not have the motivation nor the time. There is plenty going on over here. I look out toward the street and see familiar people walking by and they doubtless look in here and see the same person perched, drinking, typing, and wondering what the hell is going on. I can sympathize. I probably look like some sort of shut-in with a computer. Hmm... that sounds appropriate, right? Perhaps.

Where was I?

Alexis is gorgeous.

I covered that already, and she does not need me as an advocate. Her ten-plus-million followers will attest and agree. Who am I? Just another soul with a keyboard. And a voice. And a section of space on the www. Can that be enough? Fuck no. Nothing is ever enough and that fact brings us back to the fucking fantasy. Such is nonexistent in real matters -- those of substance. Tangibility is the need. Reality, connection, support, feeling. All of it is rolled into the title of the fucking entry, and all of it is on my mind too much of the time. I need it to change before I flip a switch.


235
Gorgeous face and eyes


Despite her magnificent appearance, endless beauty, and positive look, I remain at the same point in space. Moving forward is the risk, yet it may become the only direction. Just in the short span of these paragraphs, the feeling has grown substantially. I cannot and will not avoid the images which further the obsession, and I will not entertain suggestions of doing things differently. That has never been my way, and though it may help in some way, the loss would be too great. I cannot afford to change any aspect of my personality for fear of becoming something I am not. I have seen that happen to others and for myself it is simply unacceptable.

I would rather perish as me than continue as a happy-go-lucky robot, the type of which I see every day.

How did I get to that fucking statement? Well, I guess it just means I need to keep going, no matter the circumstances or damage. The fantasy is extremely tough with which to deal, but it is still a part of me. And this is not something I had a hand in creating -- the situation grew out of people's actions along with other connections in life.

And then I sighted the barista and the waves of water further engulfed me."





[14:14 pdt 08/13/2017 CE, 1502658840 E]

A bit of a delay in publishing this latest entry. Other than that we are at status quo.

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The Barista and the Waves


"We walked into the coffee house many, many times throughout the course of a few years. Those employed there were always young and the turnover was fairly high due to school schedules and the like. Some stayed longer and created a courteous rapport with daily visitors. Others came and went as their lives changed.

One day recently we strolled in and the entire look and feel of the business changed. Behind the superautomatic espresso machines was a six-foot tall blonde barista with the dimensions of the gods. She was always smiling while working, and her movements were as fluid as any viscometer would attest. Every part of her was screaming to be dimensioned. Long arms, very long legs, slender fingers, beautifully tapered at every cross section. She walked about performing her duties and all the while looking as if she should be on a runway rather than brewing beverages for the masses. The sight of her was nearly crippling.

Day after day we stopped for coffee and most of the time she was there. When speaking, she was very pleasant and kind. When working she stayed busy, balancing the courtesy with production. On any given occasion upon seeing her the QR card yearned to fly out of the wallet. It never did. That woman was everything we sought (just as others mentioned here), and the thought of creating a portfolio of her has been more than desirable. It has been demanding. She was a gorgeous and anomalous example of the numbers which appeared at their very limits, regardless of their location on her. Everything was there -- from her long hair to her lengthy, narrow feet -- and every stop on the way down.



236
Stretched to the ends of our senses


There are many correlations regarding the barista and her supreme look. The first which comes to mind was the girl at the express checkout (already covered here. She was nearly as tall -- likely at least five foot nine -- with similar yet exaggerated features. And then there was the girl at the super bowl party, five foot eleven at the least, with her incredible form. Two hours of staring at her was excruciating and frightening at the same time. Those women with their unending and fascinating dimensions were brought to mind immediately at the sight of the young barista. And we mean young... she had a pin which read '2017 Graduate'... and we are not speaking of college. Yikes to the nth degree. Regardless of the desire to hand her the QR card, that is just not appropriate. Add ten years and the situation would be a bit easier to press.

The related writings of the past two years came to mind along with the need to place the information here. These days we are unable to avoid exploration of the subject. In that vein, her form was very lanky and pushed some of the mechanical relationships into the stuff of dreams. Her long neck, slender waist, and sharp shoulders led us to again feel the intense desire to wrap the seamstress tape about her and begin recording. When she walked to and from the back area of the store, we could see quite the beautifully flowing gait. Just a few steps were required for her very long legs to carry her across the room. And she did not stop for a second -- the busy morning meant moving quickly to serve so many patrons.

As days passed, we saw her often and added some polite conversation while ordering. Her smile showed off a natural flair for the service industry, and her bright, beautiful eyes conveyed much kindness. She was something of note, to be sure, and we did our best to take in as much as possible while in her presence. The barista and her incredible height stood out in the room like a green moon in the sky. The whole of her appearance, demeanor, and energy helped to give our morning a substantial boost toward a work day.

Unfortunately, underneath it all began the waves of discomfort and disillusionment at our position with regard to this most deviant of obsessions. The feelings crippled us within minutes of exiting the shop... every single time. Our need to know of the entirety of her form has become a problem and a distraction from everyday activities. We still visit the shop most mornings, make our pleasant remarks, and move on down the depressive road toward work. We cannot help but go to see her (partly due to the coffee being on the way to our daily destinations) because she now represents the only recurring vision out of the mass which we have sighted. The idea is we can continue to see the gorgeous barista without any involvement whatsoever. That is both wonderful and traumatic at the same time.

Mostly the latter.


237
Defined throughout


The waves come crashing over us at any given moment. We think of her image and become swept up by the motion and the power of the sea. They take over our senses and leave us without mental form. The images are washed within our dysfunctional psyche and come out the other side to be very damaging. The press of the water and the force of the impact leave us sans air. Our energy level drops significantly and then every mental image comes back to leave us without any motivation whatsoever. We simply fall down a hill and into the water, leaving us at the mercy of the fucking waves.

So, where do we go? The fucking beach? Or do we sit and wait for the next set of swells to pull us under for good?

Huh? Too often we throw out the allegorical crap and then the entire essay goes to shit. Let us be clear, for a change. The issue of seeing these examples of mechanical beauty is becoming too much to simply sit and write, and we are soon going to need a massive fucking change. The barista is a person, and we are the catalyst of the difficulties. The girl at the checkout is the same... a person. Perhaps she crafted herself for years into a goal of looks, or perhaps she ended up that way through circumstances and actions over which she had little control. Who knows, but the result was one of the most strikingly beautiful women ever within our vision. Still, she is a person above all other things. And there are more waves. And more. Then, the alcohol. Yay! Right.

That tall blonde is a wondrous sight -- just as many others -- and naturally drives us straight to the keyboard. Why not? This is quickly becoming all of us. The whole shitaree. We could talk to her, but then the age factor comes into play, and then we flop back to the need, and then back to the fact that she is so young, and then the obsession so far unrealized, and... oh fuck it. You know. Yes, the catalyst of the difficulties. All of it. The Raven was not the cause of anything aside from destructive behavior, and that period of time was the combination of both of us.


195
Very thin, with the numbers we need


And now we go all the way back to the girl at the car wash... so many years between that sight and the barista. This is different, of course, because we think of everything within a changed world combined with our changed outlook. Back then it was dim, but the reason was a lack of understanding. Now, the barista drums up thoughts of the car wash because of the height involved and, more imporantly, the fact that the early interest turned to obsession and eventually a dire need. It became enough to force us into the ocean if things did not bear fruit. And they have not. Aside from the Raven, there has been no research, no photography, no numbers... only words. As much as the outlet of dialog can benefit us, the truth is we need so much more and that may never happen.

Another wave.

We will not sit here and continually question the 'where' and 'why' because that has already been tread into the fucking subsoil. The fact is that we need to move forward somehow. Somehow. Somehow. We need to fucking step through and either press this into something good or give the whole thing up (is that possible?). La mer awaits. And so does the Raven for fuck's sake. She is there, too.

Another wave.

The whole affair is driving us to drink. Yeah, no shit. We have been here a long time. Hopefully this is not leading to the end of the mess. We need it to go on for some time in order to allow for possibility. The barista is not going to be there, but someone of her caliber may come into our sights, and if such an event takes place we must be ready and mentally able to push forward. The ocean may be awaiting our plunge, but something else could be waiting as well. Time will either illuminate or force us to vanish once and for all. Either is acceptable, honestly. How many fucking times have we said that? Jesus.


215
Blonde hair and length


From here...

Indeed. What to do. For the time being we are going to continue with the QR venture and see what develops. Only a handful have been handed out and so far no response of any kind. Not even an angry email or two. Nothing. There seems little else that can be done other than further exploration of the subject. Perhaps we can streamline the splash and see if that helps a bit. The barista really tossed everything on its side for a while, and we were not expecting such a feeling. She is there day after miserable day and all we can do is fix up the coffee, glance, and leave. There are no options when it comes to that example due to her age. We do have limits, believe it or not. And we shall continue the search regardless of the downsides to our mental health. There is no other way. If we implode, we implode. If not, readers are guaranteed little to no improvement or upside here. No shit, right?

Where have we heard that before.

Perhaps we will sight some sort of succubus that can put us out of our misery and remove the harmful memories."





To 2017 Part 3

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