December 31st, 2020 8:09am pst If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning The Altercation read ( words) "Still here, still concerned, no idea of what to do. Everything is finished except one little switch I must install for a friend's neon sign. He'll be picking it up between today and tomorrow. I couldn't fix it for him as I no longer have the equipment to measure high voltage, nor can I break open the power supply if he is to allow the original builder to perform a repair. I don't want to mess things up. Other than that little item, my day is free and this is not good. My brain is having much difficulty right now. The last thing I need today is feeling bad about myself and there is only one avenue to such a conclusion. Fuck. A battle inside. Something has to happen. My feeling of this being above all things actually comes and goes with time, although when it comes I am nearly paralyzed by the pull. I can't fucking help it because my life thus far has shown me what is going on out there in the world, many years of which have jaded me in the extreme. It's out there yet still so elusive, and these facts combined have twisted my thinking so much that there is nearly no enjoyment when the tumblers have an opportunity to align. The key is rare. Pause. I finished a few things aside from the usual and decided to take a break from the world for a little while. The horrendous issue mentioned above has been destroyed today, much to my chagrin, however it will return soon enough to floor me once again. I had to run around the house and find projects. It was (is) that bad, damn it. Now I am a mere two hours from driving and have no idea of what may come next. This morning I felt like shit over it, and now I feel even worse. Splendid. Hopefully the evening will prove peaceful and relaxing. Tomorrow I will have to get up and do it all over again, yet with today's incident hanging in the background at each step. Fuck me, anyway. From one problem to another... I put one of my most valuable watches on the Internet for auction. In less than an hour, the bidding went up sharply and is not far from what I would like to get for it. Normally I would not have listed it, but just over a year after it came in the mail, I ordered another, newer model which embodies every feature of the previous watch plus a few others, and is much more appealing to me. During the interim of owning both, every time I went into the watch case to pick something for wearing, my hand grabbed at the newer model. That is pretty much the only indication I need to send the older watch to someone who will use it. I am in the process of streamlining my possessions to include only those which mean the most or are critical to my happiness. Too much crap equals a headache. Stop. Drive. 12-30. The evening was not as rewarding as I had hoped. Dinner was ok, though. The damned drive was nearly two hours round trip. I could not believe it. The last time such a delay occurred was before the trip to the high country, and I said I needed a break after so much trouble. And then I drove four weeks later to a bit of traffic, but yesterday took the cake. I will not be traveling in that direction -- not even to drive her to work -- for some time. I will remain here for the foreseeable future. They made Jessica far too plastic in this film. I may have mentioned before that her eyes are not their natural color and are very fantasy-like. She doesn't need any effects at all to look amazing. She will always be one of the first representations of two parts of me, and she had effectively combined them in the first film of this series. Perhaps the very first to be both of them, but I can't be certain these days. Many times I became completely clouded by her beauty and then lost track of everything. This morning, though, I can feel it all... From the curves of her cheekbones to the massive, unrelenting draw of the film industry. Both, and she is a lovely symbol with whom I will never take issue. Upon seeing the first film, I may have loved her for all these reasons. I don't know anymore. Too fragile these days. Even with all of the plastic, she still rises above the mass most of the time. Ok, I need to leave her be for a while. Remember that everything is my fault when it comes to film and issue one, not hers. I am going to research the availability of the series from another key time, however. And yes, she was the star. Thinking of that series now brings up even more of the period, from the films being released during the holiday season that year to the computer on my desk at work (which is also a story in and of itself) and on to our move into the trailer that same year. Too much. The ending of the film the other day (third installment of the Indiana Jones franchise, remember?) spun me pretty badly. Seeing the temple and recalling sitting in the big dome back then is not good for me these days because I dwell enough on that time already. I have gone over many of my feelings for those years and am beginning to believe that to go on about it so much is not good for me. No shit, right? But I can't fucking help it. The era is absolutely glowing these days in contrast to not only all that has taken place in recent years but the state of the world, too. We did what we wished back then, went wherever felt enjoyable and dove into each other like crazy. Even my fucking watch fetish was flaring. Family, too. Every holiday season during that time was bright and warm. Oy. This is going to return to the site again and again until I tire of bringing it up. That will take some time, too, because the memories continue to expand as I recall events and little details during my days at home. Pause. The morning routine is out of the way and I am alone until she arrives home this evening or the goddess visits. I'll have to be mindful of all I wish to accomplish before one of those two is here again. The house is in decent order but there is always something that needs attention, no matter what I did the day before. I ran out of paper yesterday after wrapping some keepsake glasses to make room for daily life. I'll have to find more or possibly subscribe to the Chronicle in order to secure a good supply. We have no way of displaying so many glasses after years of collecting. They must wait until such time as we have the room and funds for doing so. I also found a few little assholes (one on my watch display case, of all places) so I have to keep my eyes open all day and see if an invasion begins to develop. Hopefully they are stragglers from the last week or so. A bit of laundry will round out the routine later. Nine in the morning and the possibilities are endless right now. I still have a bit of coffee to enjoy before getting away from this. After yesterday I am not inclined to feel good about myself this morning. The incident will not leave me, no matter the work, typing, or other distractions. I can let it go but such will take time, as always. The past may be to blame for my feelings regarding such a subject, too. I am not certain, but the idea makes sense. I recall that one statement so many years ago which still stings and remains stuck in my craw due to the scene at the time and the sheer weight of something so insensitive during my formative years. It was unfair, but alas I have gone over that already (in the fiction). The fact remains I still think about it from time to time and when combined with a day such as yesterday I begin to draw images in my head clarifying the idea that there is indeed something wrong with me. I fought yesterday... All morning and during part of the afternoon. The altercation in my head was surrounded by those images drawn of the past and of my own problems which developed later. A fight, to be sure. Half of me won and half of me lost, leaving the remainder of the day and a good portion of this morning fucked up. My head will not quit and continues to return to that fateful day on the big sofa with my guitar. The words stung then but I did not fully comprehend their full weight until many years later. I am still angry because something which should be a natural part of life became stained and slowly combined with another hellish period just a few years earlier. I sit here now -- nearly four decades after that simple observation meant to be funny -- a product of cold insensitivity and shackled to a never-ending analysis which can have no solution. In short, I am screwed now and for all time, angry unlike ever before, and constantly fighting myself. Deep breath. I don't want to have to start drinking this early. Heh. Well, I did. At the outset of my morning routine, I caught a few dipshits near the bar while sweeping, meaning I had to engage in some reconfiguring of the dining room. And that killed nearly three hours of cleaning, floor treatment at the base to keep them out, and a fucking load of cleaning everything. The bar is one of the worst places to find them because we have cordials there, full of sugar. I thrashed the entire room, treated the base twice, and worked my ass off to get things clean and in order. Finally, I was able to head into the kitchen and care for that before having something to eat. Now I am exhausted. There is no stopping them completely. Ensuring cleanliness is about the only thing I can do in a house this old to keep them from finding anything interesting. From here on in I will be more observant. Ants are resilient and determined. And my head fell off a cliff as soon as I finished lunch (two hours later than I would have preferred). Once again, the same shit came about to cut me and I couldn't avoid the feelings. Like yesterday and early this morning, the worry grew disproportionately to reality and has left me to my mental and emotional devices. This is the same situation which has arisen many, many times throughout the course of years... Ten, in fact. Ever since moving to this area from the valley, nothing has been easy to deal with when it comes to my brain. This afternoon it fell off in favor of my cleaning efforts and dissatisfaction with what takes place under the house and nearly out of my control. I have enough on my shoulders dealing with the upkeep here. Pause, again. My work for the day is finished, provided nothing comes crawling across the floor from the baseboards. The brain keeps going, however. And there is Jessica again with the dark blue contacts. Why did they do that? The science fiction aspect, maybe? Eh... She is the same with or without. Anyway, the bullshit brought up in the last entry is still pulling me down. I can't seem to maintain any level of regularity with respect to happiness or the simple enjoyment of things. Up, down, then up and down again. All over the place most days, with the only exceptions being those rarities when I actually leave the house to go somewhere. While here, whatever happens to be on the television or strolling by our driveway at some point ends up sending me into the black. I sit, confused and scared, until enough strength can be mustered to get something done. The whole thing repeats every fucking day of the week. Seeing Jessica is surprisingly easy right now, too. Others in the film cause trouble (not the females), but she does not. I am getting to the point of losing faith in ever feeling any different. This has been me for so long that I wouldn't even begin to know how to live differently, given the chance. I know there has been one option available which can effectively erase much of the trouble, although that would mean eliminating much more than I would care to give up. Maybe I need to stop going over this for a while. Nothing is helping. The evening is ahead and I am trying to avoid pouring a cocktail before the proper hour. Not fucking easy. I've made it this far, though. That's something. I am also thinking of tomorrow and what this fucking house may look like in the morning when I am trying to relax and work. No clue. If there is any extension to what took place today, I will be in an even worse mood than right now. Hard to imagine? Indeed, I am not happy with much of anything most of the time, and when my typically quiet day is broken by something difficult to control, the mood follows suit. Add to that my already diminishing patience with everything already railroaded here for months and you may see why I am not the person to be addressed these days. Everything upsets me anymore. The truth is there may be no answers because searching for them could be the wrong path. Rather than focusing upon what I seek, the idea of holding fast to those things I do still enjoy might be a better method of dealing with each day. I did that before, the method of staying on a track of what I already know and leaving all else behind. Another possibility is to blind myself to the whole of society -- meaning a continuance of how I now live at home and completely avoiding other people -- just as I tried to in eleven. For the most part it helped, but two doors down was a person I felt compelled to be near as often as she allowed. That damaged me and reduced the amount of self-reliance I had been attempting to build. Backward progress for months left me denied of all I went there to accomplish. Now? The world is different, I am different, and the choice seems somewhat easier to swallow. Even a year back I could not have done it due to work and the manner in which others viewed me. Hmm... Can I? Jesus God her head is two feet high on the screen and I cannot rip my eyes from her image. Fuck. Even with those odd contacts there is nothing in need of alteration. Um... Altercation? I went over that as much as can be revealed. Jessica is outside my issues, completely. Special, that one. For the remainder of today I am going to relax and ignore everything not pertinent to my physical comfort. I need to just sit and plan like years ago. And I mean YEARS. That glowing period held its share of trouble, and the top of the list was my wish to be separate from society. No, not a cabin in Montana where others have holed up and planned their psychotic moves. I am referring to remaining away from everything even more than during this health crisis. I still communicate with others. That would cease save for two individuals. I left the social networking shit behind back in spring after becoming pissed off and realizing that it is the scourge of society (and no one cares). No more of that in my life. I don't need to share myself and I don't give half a shit what others have to say. Not anymore. It used to be pleasant in the beginning, but now all that has resulted is the world shrinking even more and feeling apathetic. Well, fuck it all. Similarly, I do not even allow those with whom I am in contact to extend anything derived from social networking to me. I put that shit to bed long ago and am better off for the effort. Yes, I am cold, but I have to look out for myself because no one else will. So, trimming off the fat of the world and removing it from my life seems a first-class idea. Other people won't like it and I hope they hate it. 12-31 and so fucking close to the end of the world. Again. The evening was fine, dinner was simple, and I let go of the invasion issue despite having had so much fucking trouble during the day. So here I am again... Coffee, television, tree lights, red and green lamps, and no light outside as of yet. I have an older movie up there because some girl on the Doctor Who invasion is beginning to drive me wild. The channel had to be changed. Her eyes were enormous, dark, you know. Today is going to be very light. If I see something going on like yesterday I'll have to squash it, but otherwise I plan to relax more. The one auction is going very well and I have a few other interesting things to list on that front, and then my little routine. As for tonight, there has been no plan and I will not initiate anything this time. Last year was fucked up but I never completely conveyed my mood, nor was I able to effectively demonstrate my dissatisfaction with those two women. I made it clearer this year shortly after football season began, yet ended up relenting weeks later. I was too soft then. Not anymore, especially after having to listen to the same fucking shit again. Typically I calculated that they were the problems, yet after a conversation some weeks ago I was told that I can also be the issue. Well, I decided to limit myself quite a bit and the last time we spent the evening together was smoother. Tonight I honestly have no idea. After last night I am not inclined to push in any direction whatsoever. Sometimes no matter what I try to convey, everything is thrown back in my direction. Others should realize what type of effect such behavior can have upon a person such as myself. Now I'll have to hit the thumbtack with a sledgehammer and likely avoid anything related to end of the year festivities. Nice, right? Well, I don't have much control over anything in the world these days, which means pulling myself away from others and demonstrating that I am fairly angry can usually do the trick. Afterward? No one wants to be around me. Again... A good thing. The light is coming up. Hopefully today will be a touch warmer than yesterday. This time of year the sun falls behind the hills south of here and we lose the sunshine near four in the afternoon. The ocean is right down the street, meaning the mercury drops quickly once the light begins to wane. After the debacle two days ago (the second pain in my ass) I am not inclined to drive anymore. There will be exceptions, but for the most part I will get her stuff ready and wave goodbye in the mornings. That is all. I need to be here and I need all that time to work on myself. The altercation has subsided for the time being but will return soon enough. I am sitting here like always with my coffee and the living room lamps showing red and green for the holidays and everything is pleasant. I have no clue as to what the remainder of this day may hold, though. I can already feel something creeping in... A worry which pushes its way to the top of my attention quite often. Hopefully it won't double me over again. Society is doing the talking. Even if the little fuckers are coming in the house somewhere and I have to deal with them I don't really give a shit. Such is life sometimes, and they are not that big of a deal, really. The only issue is sitting down to eat something and seeing them close by. That's rare, though. So, I am not that worried. Bigger fish, remember? One of those fish is money, and as of the end of the year (damned near right now) I have pulled in quite a bit. Those little things add up when enough go out the door. Eventually I will get to the point of having just a few important items left and much more empty space. This is very good. I wish to remain fairly compact, or as much as is feasible, anyway. I am going to continue on this path until I have no more to list. The altercation will likely arise again soon. Between my fear of this and that, such time alone almost every day, and the imagery which causes wonder and worry at the same time, I am surprised to be upright these days after fighting myself for so many years. I should be much more disillusioned by this point in time. I suppose those little enjoyments are still doing their respective jobs in keeping my head out of the fucking oven. Plus, I continue to fight over not only the aforementioned issue four, but over myself being something other than a typical person. I analyze too much, yes, but overthinking does not necessarily mean anything negative. Why I am still doing this I'll never know. The day is mine. So far I see no trouble in the house like yesterday. And James Caan is carrying a hand cannon. Geez. Anyway, today should be onward and upward (which was to be yesterday but alas I had a battle and lots of cleaning), meaning I can do as I please toward getting my little world in enough order for relaxation. Everything continues despite my good or bad attitude and I must keep that in mind. Much of what I do ends up being easier than how it feels in my mind. All of the work I did at this time yesterday, for example. I see it now and feel good about the effort, but the whole situation seems minimized today. I don't know why. Maybe at the time there is a dire aspect because the critters can affect food or cleanliness, but honestly they are easy to deal with in the grand scheme. Easier than all of my problems, anyway. The end result of my work has to remain in focus. The world is different, yet I can still make things happen. You know what I mean. Person one: 'What kind of writing pays the best?' Person two: 'Ransom notes.' For the second time, I cannot find a reason for doing this anymore. Years of thinking and typing, tons of inner workings laid out here since last spring, yet still there is little improvement. The one positive which stands out is the idea that sitting here has become second nature, comfortable, and something to which I look forward each morning. That is a positive of sorts. No argument. With a head full of the beginnings of the altercation once again, I am nevertheless off to the races today." This site contains mature content Created by REN in Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 Copyright ©2002-2024 Brandywine Engineering All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Questions? Comments? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the assholes in charge
December 31st, 2020 8:09am pst If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning The Altercation read ( words) "Still here, still concerned, no idea of what to do. Everything is finished except one little switch I must install for a friend's neon sign. He'll be picking it up between today and tomorrow. I couldn't fix it for him as I no longer have the equipment to measure high voltage, nor can I break open the power supply if he is to allow the original builder to perform a repair. I don't want to mess things up. Other than that little item, my day is free and this is not good. My brain is having much difficulty right now. The last thing I need today is feeling bad about myself and there is only one avenue to such a conclusion. Fuck. A battle inside. Something has to happen. My feeling of this being above all things actually comes and goes with time, although when it comes I am nearly paralyzed by the pull. I can't fucking help it because my life thus far has shown me what is going on out there in the world, many years of which have jaded me in the extreme. It's out there yet still so elusive, and these facts combined have twisted my thinking so much that there is nearly no enjoyment when the tumblers have an opportunity to align. The key is rare. Pause. I finished a few things aside from the usual and decided to take a break from the world for a little while. The horrendous issue mentioned above has been destroyed today, much to my chagrin, however it will return soon enough to floor me once again. I had to run around the house and find projects. It was (is) that bad, damn it. Now I am a mere two hours from driving and have no idea of what may come next. This morning I felt like shit over it, and now I feel even worse. Splendid. Hopefully the evening will prove peaceful and relaxing. Tomorrow I will have to get up and do it all over again, yet with today's incident hanging in the background at each step. Fuck me, anyway. From one problem to another... I put one of my most valuable watches on the Internet for auction. In less than an hour, the bidding went up sharply and is not far from what I would like to get for it. Normally I would not have listed it, but just over a year after it came in the mail, I ordered another, newer model which embodies every feature of the previous watch plus a few others, and is much more appealing to me. During the interim of owning both, every time I went into the watch case to pick something for wearing, my hand grabbed at the newer model. That is pretty much the only indication I need to send the older watch to someone who will use it. I am in the process of streamlining my possessions to include only those which mean the most or are critical to my happiness. Too much crap equals a headache. Stop. Drive. 12-30. The evening was not as rewarding as I had hoped. Dinner was ok, though. The damned drive was nearly two hours round trip. I could not believe it. The last time such a delay occurred was before the trip to the high country, and I said I needed a break after so much trouble. And then I drove four weeks later to a bit of traffic, but yesterday took the cake. I will not be traveling in that direction -- not even to drive her to work -- for some time. I will remain here for the foreseeable future. They made Jessica far too plastic in this film. I may have mentioned before that her eyes are not their natural color and are very fantasy-like. She doesn't need any effects at all to look amazing. She will always be one of the first representations of two parts of me, and she had effectively combined them in the first film of this series. Perhaps the very first to be both of them, but I can't be certain these days. Many times I became completely clouded by her beauty and then lost track of everything. This morning, though, I can feel it all... From the curves of her cheekbones to the massive, unrelenting draw of the film industry. Both, and she is a lovely symbol with whom I will never take issue. Upon seeing the first film, I may have loved her for all these reasons. I don't know anymore. Too fragile these days. Even with all of the plastic, she still rises above the mass most of the time. Ok, I need to leave her be for a while. Remember that everything is my fault when it comes to film and issue one, not hers. I am going to research the availability of the series from another key time, however. And yes, she was the star. Thinking of that series now brings up even more of the period, from the films being released during the holiday season that year to the computer on my desk at work (which is also a story in and of itself) and on to our move into the trailer that same year. Too much. The ending of the film the other day (third installment of the Indiana Jones franchise, remember?) spun me pretty badly. Seeing the temple and recalling sitting in the big dome back then is not good for me these days because I dwell enough on that time already. I have gone over many of my feelings for those years and am beginning to believe that to go on about it so much is not good for me. No shit, right? But I can't fucking help it. The era is absolutely glowing these days in contrast to not only all that has taken place in recent years but the state of the world, too. We did what we wished back then, went wherever felt enjoyable and dove into each other like crazy. Even my fucking watch fetish was flaring. Family, too. Every holiday season during that time was bright and warm. Oy. This is going to return to the site again and again until I tire of bringing it up. That will take some time, too, because the memories continue to expand as I recall events and little details during my days at home. Pause. The morning routine is out of the way and I am alone until she arrives home this evening or the goddess visits. I'll have to be mindful of all I wish to accomplish before one of those two is here again. The house is in decent order but there is always something that needs attention, no matter what I did the day before. I ran out of paper yesterday after wrapping some keepsake glasses to make room for daily life. I'll have to find more or possibly subscribe to the Chronicle in order to secure a good supply. We have no way of displaying so many glasses after years of collecting. They must wait until such time as we have the room and funds for doing so. I also found a few little assholes (one on my watch display case, of all places) so I have to keep my eyes open all day and see if an invasion begins to develop. Hopefully they are stragglers from the last week or so. A bit of laundry will round out the routine later. Nine in the morning and the possibilities are endless right now. I still have a bit of coffee to enjoy before getting away from this. After yesterday I am not inclined to feel good about myself this morning. The incident will not leave me, no matter the work, typing, or other distractions. I can let it go but such will take time, as always. The past may be to blame for my feelings regarding such a subject, too. I am not certain, but the idea makes sense. I recall that one statement so many years ago which still stings and remains stuck in my craw due to the scene at the time and the sheer weight of something so insensitive during my formative years. It was unfair, but alas I have gone over that already (in the fiction). The fact remains I still think about it from time to time and when combined with a day such as yesterday I begin to draw images in my head clarifying the idea that there is indeed something wrong with me. I fought yesterday... All morning and during part of the afternoon. The altercation in my head was surrounded by those images drawn of the past and of my own problems which developed later. A fight, to be sure. Half of me won and half of me lost, leaving the remainder of the day and a good portion of this morning fucked up. My head will not quit and continues to return to that fateful day on the big sofa with my guitar. The words stung then but I did not fully comprehend their full weight until many years later. I am still angry because something which should be a natural part of life became stained and slowly combined with another hellish period just a few years earlier. I sit here now -- nearly four decades after that simple observation meant to be funny -- a product of cold insensitivity and shackled to a never-ending analysis which can have no solution. In short, I am screwed now and for all time, angry unlike ever before, and constantly fighting myself. Deep breath. I don't want to have to start drinking this early. Heh. Well, I did. At the outset of my morning routine, I caught a few dipshits near the bar while sweeping, meaning I had to engage in some reconfiguring of the dining room. And that killed nearly three hours of cleaning, floor treatment at the base to keep them out, and a fucking load of cleaning everything. The bar is one of the worst places to find them because we have cordials there, full of sugar. I thrashed the entire room, treated the base twice, and worked my ass off to get things clean and in order. Finally, I was able to head into the kitchen and care for that before having something to eat. Now I am exhausted. There is no stopping them completely. Ensuring cleanliness is about the only thing I can do in a house this old to keep them from finding anything interesting. From here on in I will be more observant. Ants are resilient and determined. And my head fell off a cliff as soon as I finished lunch (two hours later than I would have preferred). Once again, the same shit came about to cut me and I couldn't avoid the feelings. Like yesterday and early this morning, the worry grew disproportionately to reality and has left me to my mental and emotional devices. This is the same situation which has arisen many, many times throughout the course of years... Ten, in fact. Ever since moving to this area from the valley, nothing has been easy to deal with when it comes to my brain. This afternoon it fell off in favor of my cleaning efforts and dissatisfaction with what takes place under the house and nearly out of my control. I have enough on my shoulders dealing with the upkeep here. Pause, again. My work for the day is finished, provided nothing comes crawling across the floor from the baseboards. The brain keeps going, however. And there is Jessica again with the dark blue contacts. Why did they do that? The science fiction aspect, maybe? Eh... She is the same with or without. Anyway, the bullshit brought up in the last entry is still pulling me down. I can't seem to maintain any level of regularity with respect to happiness or the simple enjoyment of things. Up, down, then up and down again. All over the place most days, with the only exceptions being those rarities when I actually leave the house to go somewhere. While here, whatever happens to be on the television or strolling by our driveway at some point ends up sending me into the black. I sit, confused and scared, until enough strength can be mustered to get something done. The whole thing repeats every fucking day of the week. Seeing Jessica is surprisingly easy right now, too. Others in the film cause trouble (not the females), but she does not. I am getting to the point of losing faith in ever feeling any different. This has been me for so long that I wouldn't even begin to know how to live differently, given the chance. I know there has been one option available which can effectively erase much of the trouble, although that would mean eliminating much more than I would care to give up. Maybe I need to stop going over this for a while. Nothing is helping. The evening is ahead and I am trying to avoid pouring a cocktail before the proper hour. Not fucking easy. I've made it this far, though. That's something. I am also thinking of tomorrow and what this fucking house may look like in the morning when I am trying to relax and work. No clue. If there is any extension to what took place today, I will be in an even worse mood than right now. Hard to imagine? Indeed, I am not happy with much of anything most of the time, and when my typically quiet day is broken by something difficult to control, the mood follows suit. Add to that my already diminishing patience with everything already railroaded here for months and you may see why I am not the person to be addressed these days. Everything upsets me anymore. The truth is there may be no answers because searching for them could be the wrong path. Rather than focusing upon what I seek, the idea of holding fast to those things I do still enjoy might be a better method of dealing with each day. I did that before, the method of staying on a track of what I already know and leaving all else behind. Another possibility is to blind myself to the whole of society -- meaning a continuance of how I now live at home and completely avoiding other people -- just as I tried to in eleven. For the most part it helped, but two doors down was a person I felt compelled to be near as often as she allowed. That damaged me and reduced the amount of self-reliance I had been attempting to build. Backward progress for months left me denied of all I went there to accomplish. Now? The world is different, I am different, and the choice seems somewhat easier to swallow. Even a year back I could not have done it due to work and the manner in which others viewed me. Hmm... Can I? Jesus God her head is two feet high on the screen and I cannot rip my eyes from her image. Fuck. Even with those odd contacts there is nothing in need of alteration. Um... Altercation? I went over that as much as can be revealed. Jessica is outside my issues, completely. Special, that one. For the remainder of today I am going to relax and ignore everything not pertinent to my physical comfort. I need to just sit and plan like years ago. And I mean YEARS. That glowing period held its share of trouble, and the top of the list was my wish to be separate from society. No, not a cabin in Montana where others have holed up and planned their psychotic moves. I am referring to remaining away from everything even more than during this health crisis. I still communicate with others. That would cease save for two individuals. I left the social networking shit behind back in spring after becoming pissed off and realizing that it is the scourge of society (and no one cares). No more of that in my life. I don't need to share myself and I don't give half a shit what others have to say. Not anymore. It used to be pleasant in the beginning, but now all that has resulted is the world shrinking even more and feeling apathetic. Well, fuck it all. Similarly, I do not even allow those with whom I am in contact to extend anything derived from social networking to me. I put that shit to bed long ago and am better off for the effort. Yes, I am cold, but I have to look out for myself because no one else will. So, trimming off the fat of the world and removing it from my life seems a first-class idea. Other people won't like it and I hope they hate it. 12-31 and so fucking close to the end of the world. Again. The evening was fine, dinner was simple, and I let go of the invasion issue despite having had so much fucking trouble during the day. So here I am again... Coffee, television, tree lights, red and green lamps, and no light outside as of yet. I have an older movie up there because some girl on the Doctor Who invasion is beginning to drive me wild. The channel had to be changed. Her eyes were enormous, dark, you know. Today is going to be very light. If I see something going on like yesterday I'll have to squash it, but otherwise I plan to relax more. The one auction is going very well and I have a few other interesting things to list on that front, and then my little routine. As for tonight, there has been no plan and I will not initiate anything this time. Last year was fucked up but I never completely conveyed my mood, nor was I able to effectively demonstrate my dissatisfaction with those two women. I made it clearer this year shortly after football season began, yet ended up relenting weeks later. I was too soft then. Not anymore, especially after having to listen to the same fucking shit again. Typically I calculated that they were the problems, yet after a conversation some weeks ago I was told that I can also be the issue. Well, I decided to limit myself quite a bit and the last time we spent the evening together was smoother. Tonight I honestly have no idea. After last night I am not inclined to push in any direction whatsoever. Sometimes no matter what I try to convey, everything is thrown back in my direction. Others should realize what type of effect such behavior can have upon a person such as myself. Now I'll have to hit the thumbtack with a sledgehammer and likely avoid anything related to end of the year festivities. Nice, right? Well, I don't have much control over anything in the world these days, which means pulling myself away from others and demonstrating that I am fairly angry can usually do the trick. Afterward? No one wants to be around me. Again... A good thing. The light is coming up. Hopefully today will be a touch warmer than yesterday. This time of year the sun falls behind the hills south of here and we lose the sunshine near four in the afternoon. The ocean is right down the street, meaning the mercury drops quickly once the light begins to wane. After the debacle two days ago (the second pain in my ass) I am not inclined to drive anymore. There will be exceptions, but for the most part I will get her stuff ready and wave goodbye in the mornings. That is all. I need to be here and I need all that time to work on myself. The altercation has subsided for the time being but will return soon enough. I am sitting here like always with my coffee and the living room lamps showing red and green for the holidays and everything is pleasant. I have no clue as to what the remainder of this day may hold, though. I can already feel something creeping in... A worry which pushes its way to the top of my attention quite often. Hopefully it won't double me over again. Society is doing the talking. Even if the little fuckers are coming in the house somewhere and I have to deal with them I don't really give a shit. Such is life sometimes, and they are not that big of a deal, really. The only issue is sitting down to eat something and seeing them close by. That's rare, though. So, I am not that worried. Bigger fish, remember? One of those fish is money, and as of the end of the year (damned near right now) I have pulled in quite a bit. Those little things add up when enough go out the door. Eventually I will get to the point of having just a few important items left and much more empty space. This is very good. I wish to remain fairly compact, or as much as is feasible, anyway. I am going to continue on this path until I have no more to list. The altercation will likely arise again soon. Between my fear of this and that, such time alone almost every day, and the imagery which causes wonder and worry at the same time, I am surprised to be upright these days after fighting myself for so many years. I should be much more disillusioned by this point in time. I suppose those little enjoyments are still doing their respective jobs in keeping my head out of the fucking oven. Plus, I continue to fight over not only the aforementioned issue four, but over myself being something other than a typical person. I analyze too much, yes, but overthinking does not necessarily mean anything negative. Why I am still doing this I'll never know. The day is mine. So far I see no trouble in the house like yesterday. And James Caan is carrying a hand cannon. Geez. Anyway, today should be onward and upward (which was to be yesterday but alas I had a battle and lots of cleaning), meaning I can do as I please toward getting my little world in enough order for relaxation. Everything continues despite my good or bad attitude and I must keep that in mind. Much of what I do ends up being easier than how it feels in my mind. All of the work I did at this time yesterday, for example. I see it now and feel good about the effort, but the whole situation seems minimized today. I don't know why. Maybe at the time there is a dire aspect because the critters can affect food or cleanliness, but honestly they are easy to deal with in the grand scheme. Easier than all of my problems, anyway. The end result of my work has to remain in focus. The world is different, yet I can still make things happen. You know what I mean. Person one: 'What kind of writing pays the best?' Person two: 'Ransom notes.' For the second time, I cannot find a reason for doing this anymore. Years of thinking and typing, tons of inner workings laid out here since last spring, yet still there is little improvement. The one positive which stands out is the idea that sitting here has become second nature, comfortable, and something to which I look forward each morning. That is a positive of sorts. No argument. With a head full of the beginnings of the altercation once again, I am nevertheless off to the races today."
December 31st, 2020 8:09am pst
If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning
The Altercation
read ( words)
"Still here, still concerned, no idea of what to do. Everything is finished except one little switch I must install for a friend's neon sign. He'll be picking it up between today and tomorrow. I couldn't fix it for him as I no longer have the equipment to measure high voltage, nor can I break open the power supply if he is to allow the original builder to perform a repair. I don't want to mess things up. Other than that little item, my day is free and this is not good. My brain is having much difficulty right now. The last thing I need today is feeling bad about myself and there is only one avenue to such a conclusion. Fuck. A battle inside. Something has to happen. My feeling of this being above all things actually comes and goes with time, although when it comes I am nearly paralyzed by the pull. I can't fucking help it because my life thus far has shown me what is going on out there in the world, many years of which have jaded me in the extreme. It's out there yet still so elusive, and these facts combined have twisted my thinking so much that there is nearly no enjoyment when the tumblers have an opportunity to align. The key is rare. Pause. I finished a few things aside from the usual and decided to take a break from the world for a little while. The horrendous issue mentioned above has been destroyed today, much to my chagrin, however it will return soon enough to floor me once again. I had to run around the house and find projects. It was (is) that bad, damn it. Now I am a mere two hours from driving and have no idea of what may come next. This morning I felt like shit over it, and now I feel even worse. Splendid. Hopefully the evening will prove peaceful and relaxing. Tomorrow I will have to get up and do it all over again, yet with today's incident hanging in the background at each step. Fuck me, anyway. From one problem to another... I put one of my most valuable watches on the Internet for auction. In less than an hour, the bidding went up sharply and is not far from what I would like to get for it. Normally I would not have listed it, but just over a year after it came in the mail, I ordered another, newer model which embodies every feature of the previous watch plus a few others, and is much more appealing to me. During the interim of owning both, every time I went into the watch case to pick something for wearing, my hand grabbed at the newer model. That is pretty much the only indication I need to send the older watch to someone who will use it. I am in the process of streamlining my possessions to include only those which mean the most or are critical to my happiness. Too much crap equals a headache. Stop. Drive. 12-30. The evening was not as rewarding as I had hoped. Dinner was ok, though. The damned drive was nearly two hours round trip. I could not believe it. The last time such a delay occurred was before the trip to the high country, and I said I needed a break after so much trouble. And then I drove four weeks later to a bit of traffic, but yesterday took the cake. I will not be traveling in that direction -- not even to drive her to work -- for some time. I will remain here for the foreseeable future.
They made Jessica far too plastic in this film. I may have mentioned before that her eyes are not their natural color and are very fantasy-like. She doesn't need any effects at all to look amazing. She will always be one of the first representations of two parts of me, and she had effectively combined them in the first film of this series. Perhaps the very first to be both of them, but I can't be certain these days. Many times I became completely clouded by her beauty and then lost track of everything. This morning, though, I can feel it all... From the curves of her cheekbones to the massive, unrelenting draw of the film industry. Both, and she is a lovely symbol with whom I will never take issue. Upon seeing the first film, I may have loved her for all these reasons. I don't know anymore. Too fragile these days. Even with all of the plastic, she still rises above the mass most of the time. Ok, I need to leave her be for a while. Remember that everything is my fault when it comes to film and issue one, not hers. I am going to research the availability of the series from another key time, however. And yes, she was the star. Thinking of that series now brings up even more of the period, from the films being released during the holiday season that year to the computer on my desk at work (which is also a story in and of itself) and on to our move into the trailer that same year. Too much. The ending of the film the other day (third installment of the Indiana Jones franchise, remember?) spun me pretty badly. Seeing the temple and recalling sitting in the big dome back then is not good for me these days because I dwell enough on that time already. I have gone over many of my feelings for those years and am beginning to believe that to go on about it so much is not good for me. No shit, right? But I can't fucking help it. The era is absolutely glowing these days in contrast to not only all that has taken place in recent years but the state of the world, too. We did what we wished back then, went wherever felt enjoyable and dove into each other like crazy. Even my fucking watch fetish was flaring. Family, too. Every holiday season during that time was bright and warm. Oy. This is going to return to the site again and again until I tire of bringing it up. That will take some time, too, because the memories continue to expand as I recall events and little details during my days at home. Pause. The morning routine is out of the way and I am alone until she arrives home this evening or the goddess visits. I'll have to be mindful of all I wish to accomplish before one of those two is here again. The house is in decent order but there is always something that needs attention, no matter what I did the day before. I ran out of paper yesterday after wrapping some keepsake glasses to make room for daily life. I'll have to find more or possibly subscribe to the Chronicle in order to secure a good supply. We have no way of displaying so many glasses after years of collecting. They must wait until such time as we have the room and funds for doing so. I also found a few little assholes (one on my watch display case, of all places) so I have to keep my eyes open all day and see if an invasion begins to develop. Hopefully they are stragglers from the last week or so. A bit of laundry will round out the routine later. Nine in the morning and the possibilities are endless right now. I still have a bit of coffee to enjoy before getting away from this. After yesterday I am not inclined to feel good about myself this morning. The incident will not leave me, no matter the work, typing, or other distractions. I can let it go but such will take time, as always. The past may be to blame for my feelings regarding such a subject, too. I am not certain, but the idea makes sense. I recall that one statement so many years ago which still stings and remains stuck in my craw due to the scene at the time and the sheer weight of something so insensitive during my formative years. It was unfair, but alas I have gone over that already (in the fiction). The fact remains I still think about it from time to time and when combined with a day such as yesterday I begin to draw images in my head clarifying the idea that there is indeed something wrong with me. I fought yesterday... All morning and during part of the afternoon. The altercation in my head was surrounded by those images drawn of the past and of my own problems which developed later. A fight, to be sure. Half of me won and half of me lost, leaving the remainder of the day and a good portion of this morning fucked up. My head will not quit and continues to return to that fateful day on the big sofa with my guitar. The words stung then but I did not fully comprehend their full weight until many years later. I am still angry because something which should be a natural part of life became stained and slowly combined with another hellish period just a few years earlier. I sit here now -- nearly four decades after that simple observation meant to be funny -- a product of cold insensitivity and shackled to a never-ending analysis which can have no solution. In short, I am screwed now and for all time, angry unlike ever before, and constantly fighting myself.
Deep breath. I don't want to have to start drinking this early. Heh. Well, I did. At the outset of my morning routine, I caught a few dipshits near the bar while sweeping, meaning I had to engage in some reconfiguring of the dining room. And that killed nearly three hours of cleaning, floor treatment at the base to keep them out, and a fucking load of cleaning everything. The bar is one of the worst places to find them because we have cordials there, full of sugar. I thrashed the entire room, treated the base twice, and worked my ass off to get things clean and in order. Finally, I was able to head into the kitchen and care for that before having something to eat. Now I am exhausted. There is no stopping them completely. Ensuring cleanliness is about the only thing I can do in a house this old to keep them from finding anything interesting. From here on in I will be more observant. Ants are resilient and determined. And my head fell off a cliff as soon as I finished lunch (two hours later than I would have preferred). Once again, the same shit came about to cut me and I couldn't avoid the feelings. Like yesterday and early this morning, the worry grew disproportionately to reality and has left me to my mental and emotional devices. This is the same situation which has arisen many, many times throughout the course of years... Ten, in fact. Ever since moving to this area from the valley, nothing has been easy to deal with when it comes to my brain. This afternoon it fell off in favor of my cleaning efforts and dissatisfaction with what takes place under the house and nearly out of my control. I have enough on my shoulders dealing with the upkeep here. Pause, again. My work for the day is finished, provided nothing comes crawling across the floor from the baseboards. The brain keeps going, however. And there is Jessica again with the dark blue contacts. Why did they do that? The science fiction aspect, maybe? Eh... She is the same with or without. Anyway, the bullshit brought up in the last entry is still pulling me down. I can't seem to maintain any level of regularity with respect to happiness or the simple enjoyment of things. Up, down, then up and down again. All over the place most days, with the only exceptions being those rarities when I actually leave the house to go somewhere. While here, whatever happens to be on the television or strolling by our driveway at some point ends up sending me into the black. I sit, confused and scared, until enough strength can be mustered to get something done. The whole thing repeats every fucking day of the week. Seeing Jessica is surprisingly easy right now, too. Others in the film cause trouble (not the females), but she does not. I am getting to the point of losing faith in ever feeling any different. This has been me for so long that I wouldn't even begin to know how to live differently, given the chance. I know there has been one option available which can effectively erase much of the trouble, although that would mean eliminating much more than I would care to give up. Maybe I need to stop going over this for a while. Nothing is helping. The evening is ahead and I am trying to avoid pouring a cocktail before the proper hour. Not fucking easy. I've made it this far, though. That's something. I am also thinking of tomorrow and what this fucking house may look like in the morning when I am trying to relax and work. No clue. If there is any extension to what took place today, I will be in an even worse mood than right now. Hard to imagine? Indeed, I am not happy with much of anything most of the time, and when my typically quiet day is broken by something difficult to control, the mood follows suit. Add to that my already diminishing patience with everything already railroaded here for months and you may see why I am not the person to be addressed these days. Everything upsets me anymore. The truth is there may be no answers because searching for them could be the wrong path. Rather than focusing upon what I seek, the idea of holding fast to those things I do still enjoy might be a better method of dealing with each day. I did that before, the method of staying on a track of what I already know and leaving all else behind.
Another possibility is to blind myself to the whole of society -- meaning a continuance of how I now live at home and completely avoiding other people -- just as I tried to in eleven. For the most part it helped, but two doors down was a person I felt compelled to be near as often as she allowed. That damaged me and reduced the amount of self-reliance I had been attempting to build. Backward progress for months left me denied of all I went there to accomplish. Now? The world is different, I am different, and the choice seems somewhat easier to swallow. Even a year back I could not have done it due to work and the manner in which others viewed me. Hmm... Can I? Jesus God her head is two feet high on the screen and I cannot rip my eyes from her image. Fuck. Even with those odd contacts there is nothing in need of alteration. Um... Altercation? I went over that as much as can be revealed. Jessica is outside my issues, completely. Special, that one. For the remainder of today I am going to relax and ignore everything not pertinent to my physical comfort. I need to just sit and plan like years ago. And I mean YEARS. That glowing period held its share of trouble, and the top of the list was my wish to be separate from society. No, not a cabin in Montana where others have holed up and planned their psychotic moves. I am referring to remaining away from everything even more than during this health crisis. I still communicate with others. That would cease save for two individuals. I left the social networking shit behind back in spring after becoming pissed off and realizing that it is the scourge of society (and no one cares). No more of that in my life. I don't need to share myself and I don't give half a shit what others have to say. Not anymore. It used to be pleasant in the beginning, but now all that has resulted is the world shrinking even more and feeling apathetic. Well, fuck it all. Similarly, I do not even allow those with whom I am in contact to extend anything derived from social networking to me. I put that shit to bed long ago and am better off for the effort. Yes, I am cold, but I have to look out for myself because no one else will. So, trimming off the fat of the world and removing it from my life seems a first-class idea. Other people won't like it and I hope they hate it. 12-31 and so fucking close to the end of the world. Again. The evening was fine, dinner was simple, and I let go of the invasion issue despite having had so much fucking trouble during the day. So here I am again... Coffee, television, tree lights, red and green lamps, and no light outside as of yet. I have an older movie up there because some girl on the Doctor Who invasion is beginning to drive me wild. The channel had to be changed. Her eyes were enormous, dark, you know. Today is going to be very light. If I see something going on like yesterday I'll have to squash it, but otherwise I plan to relax more. The one auction is going very well and I have a few other interesting things to list on that front, and then my little routine. As for tonight, there has been no plan and I will not initiate anything this time. Last year was fucked up but I never completely conveyed my mood, nor was I able to effectively demonstrate my dissatisfaction with those two women. I made it clearer this year shortly after football season began, yet ended up relenting weeks later. I was too soft then. Not anymore, especially after having to listen to the same fucking shit again. Typically I calculated that they were the problems, yet after a conversation some weeks ago I was told that I can also be the issue. Well, I decided to limit myself quite a bit and the last time we spent the evening together was smoother. Tonight I honestly have no idea. After last night I am not inclined to push in any direction whatsoever. Sometimes no matter what I try to convey, everything is thrown back in my direction. Others should realize what type of effect such behavior can have upon a person such as myself. Now I'll have to hit the thumbtack with a sledgehammer and likely avoid anything related to end of the year festivities. Nice, right? Well, I don't have much control over anything in the world these days, which means pulling myself away from others and demonstrating that I am fairly angry can usually do the trick. Afterward? No one wants to be around me. Again... A good thing. The light is coming up. Hopefully today will be a touch warmer than yesterday. This time of year the sun falls behind the hills south of here and we lose the sunshine near four in the afternoon. The ocean is right down the street, meaning the mercury drops quickly once the light begins to wane.
After the debacle two days ago (the second pain in my ass) I am not inclined to drive anymore. There will be exceptions, but for the most part I will get her stuff ready and wave goodbye in the mornings. That is all. I need to be here and I need all that time to work on myself. The altercation has subsided for the time being but will return soon enough. I am sitting here like always with my coffee and the living room lamps showing red and green for the holidays and everything is pleasant. I have no clue as to what the remainder of this day may hold, though. I can already feel something creeping in... A worry which pushes its way to the top of my attention quite often. Hopefully it won't double me over again. Society is doing the talking. Even if the little fuckers are coming in the house somewhere and I have to deal with them I don't really give a shit. Such is life sometimes, and they are not that big of a deal, really. The only issue is sitting down to eat something and seeing them close by. That's rare, though. So, I am not that worried. Bigger fish, remember? One of those fish is money, and as of the end of the year (damned near right now) I have pulled in quite a bit. Those little things add up when enough go out the door. Eventually I will get to the point of having just a few important items left and much more empty space. This is very good. I wish to remain fairly compact, or as much as is feasible, anyway. I am going to continue on this path until I have no more to list. The altercation will likely arise again soon. Between my fear of this and that, such time alone almost every day, and the imagery which causes wonder and worry at the same time, I am surprised to be upright these days after fighting myself for so many years. I should be much more disillusioned by this point in time. I suppose those little enjoyments are still doing their respective jobs in keeping my head out of the fucking oven. Plus, I continue to fight over not only the aforementioned issue four, but over myself being something other than a typical person. I analyze too much, yes, but overthinking does not necessarily mean anything negative. Why I am still doing this I'll never know. The day is mine. So far I see no trouble in the house like yesterday. And James Caan is carrying a hand cannon. Geez. Anyway, today should be onward and upward (which was to be yesterday but alas I had a battle and lots of cleaning), meaning I can do as I please toward getting my little world in enough order for relaxation. Everything continues despite my good or bad attitude and I must keep that in mind. Much of what I do ends up being easier than how it feels in my mind. All of the work I did at this time yesterday, for example. I see it now and feel good about the effort, but the whole situation seems minimized today. I don't know why. Maybe at the time there is a dire aspect because the critters can affect food or cleanliness, but honestly they are easy to deal with in the grand scheme. Easier than all of my problems, anyway. The end result of my work has to remain in focus. The world is different, yet I can still make things happen. You know what I mean. Person one: 'What kind of writing pays the best?' Person two: 'Ransom notes.' For the second time, I cannot find a reason for doing this anymore. Years of thinking and typing, tons of inner workings laid out here since last spring, yet still there is little improvement. The one positive which stands out is the idea that sitting here has become second nature, comfortable, and something to which I look forward each morning. That is a positive of sorts. No argument. With a head full of the beginnings of the altercation once again, I am nevertheless off to the races today."
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