Coemeter Mature content No. 176 Published October 20th, 2020 11:08am pdt read ( words) Past entries "Yesterday turned out to be nearly worthless. The previous night held festivities which were unexpected and I ended up helping the neighbor with his bike for a while, resulting in a later night than I am accustomed. These days I am so fucking programmed (heh) that anything out of the norm sends me spinning. Much of yesterday was spent relaxing. I can't have that again. On the upside, this morning I am bright and ready for the day. My brain has been pretty well soaked with worry and memories, but otherwise I believe after the trial of yesterday I can do well today. Speaking of the D-555 took a lot out of me. Ugh. Look at the images here and you may realize the depth of my issues with females. Combined with the past? Not good. At the beginning of a new week. I hope this one doesn't end like the last. I've been worried so much about everything related to that 'thing' I mentioned last week. Preoccupied. My concern is that there may be nothing for me anymore. The tab? I am still paying it. And there is much more, I believe. Dreaming of that wondrous period which continues to drift into this content is not helping me, nor is the idea that the tangible memories have all been carelessly thrown away. I do not feel good about any of it, and if you sit there and tell me that the good memories are supposed to make me smile, well, I don't think so, Tim. I rarely smile anymore, and when I do recall something from that time (like some Christmas ornaments which are now equally GONE), I do not feel good. I feel as if I will not be happy again due to my own shit behavior. And yes, part of me still believes I do not deserve to be happy anymore but I don't know if that is fair. I am all fucked up right now, and right on top of the pile is the 'thingy'. On and off all day it comes and goes in my head and makes me so sad that I cannot function properly. Now we are moving closer to the holidays and the ornaments came to mind (from the early nineties, of course). This is all nearly too much. The one little upside is the weather finally cooled yesterday and should be done for the year. At least I can be kind of comfortable. Physically, none other. Today will be better than yesterday for two reasons. I will be alone most of the day and in control of the environment, and I feel much improved after resting and resetting myself throughout the last twenty hours. Saturday night was a mistake. This morning represents all those little things I do from one day to the next which keep my tiny world in order. I have other tasks today, too, and they will bring solace to my head this evening. This is good. I don't need anything else shoving me in the other direction. Annabella will be on the screen shortly and I don't fucking care. No Jolene today, either. I can't have that right now. Back to the day. I have no high aspirations, only small chores and things which need to be in order. I have to maintain the daily operation of the house, so the routine takes priority. I should be able to keep myself together through the morning and beyond. If the preoccupation with the other situation pushes me too much, I may have to jump in the car and get the hell out of here for a while. The distractions are going to prove more necessary now than in recent months. I don't know what happened to me during the past months, but something is different. I've turned out to be quite cold and withdrawn, and none of it has anything to do with the state of the world. Things have loosened some and made going out to do business much easier than in the beginning way back in March. Here we are in October -- and a good portion of it is behind now -- and the world feels more comfortable. I don't know if it's real or not, though. There may still be another flare as people settle in to the way businesses have opened again. But I am feeling as if the way I lived day-to-day life has changed very much. The comfort of home is still best. I am back from the morning drive and watching last night's game with what coffee remains. The day's activities are in front of me and I must stay distracted or the issue will take over and leave me terribly weak and depressed. It's been hanging on in the background of each minute since Thursday. Ugh. I have few options right now. As for being different, I feel like everything is dire now, or perhaps I just can't focus upon anything as easily as during past years. And I mean recent years while working and trying to enjoy the time off. We can't take a vacation these days, going out is still a chore, and considering my not working for months, the cash flow sucks out loud. I am being squeezed between two of the issues and my own limitations in finding work. I just don't know what to do and am growing weary of saying it. Keep trying, I suppose. The memories of thirty years ago have been keeping me preoccupied with being sad. They will not let up at all and have me falling into comparisons of that period versus the present. Not good, that type of thinking. I mentioned the D-555 and stories of it following me for two decades, and then a snippet of the ornaments. I might go into those, but might not. I just don't know if it's a good idea considering my down state right now. There is another, too. A big one. All of it is pushing me down and I am helpless to get up. I can't believe that those objects would shine as they now do and pull at my heart. This is not good at all. I don't need more on my shoulders than the aforementioned 'thingy'. That problem is enough to throw me off any thought process. I am preoccupied right now, in fact. The words are getting tough and I may need to leave this alone and take care of my routine. Pause. That is that. Yesterday is gone like all the rest. I finished my stuff, had a visitor for a little while, and then took my usual drive down and back. The evening was a little fucked up, though. Dinner was interrupted by the phone (as it has on occasion for some weeks now), but I sat and ate anyway while watching a movie which goes back further than my beloved time period. I sat patiently and waited, after a while deciding to go to bed. Here I sit now in the early morning with memories churning my insides. I am appreciated. All of the things I do every day, the work, the driving, the supportive nature of my every word. I am appreciated. This is good, right? No, quite the reverse. I am the machine who does the chores and remains in the background of life with nary a consideration for what has been left on the side of the road for too many years. The next entry is bad, but this one is shaping up to be nearly as wrecked. I have dreamed of a machine of my own. A loving, beautiful, unfeeling and tightly-controlled android which would never leave my side nor question anything in life. Now? I am the machine. Nothing more. Today is going to need to be very good. In a little over an hour I will drive, after which there will be no need until three days from now. Upon returning, things in order as expected, but inside I will be calculating all the while. I have to get myself into such a position so as to facilitate a very different kind of comfort from what I have been enjoying for most of this year. Out there somewhere is the answer. Small steps and silence are paramount now. The funny part is I can remain right here yet be on a different planet at the same fucking time. I will be an alien, harsh and unpleasant. After the 'Red Roses' and all those words toward my making changes, last night is the clincher. It really is. Now I am thinking quite the opposite from just days back. I am going to keep on with the memories, though. I need to get all of it out there. As of this morning, that period in time is now even more precious. I wish I had known. Leading up to the latter half of the Marisa period, yet she no longer matters. Frozen in time or otherwise, she is just a face anymore. Other parts of that time have taken over. Pause. And back from the drive. I've completed some of the daily routine and decided to sip coffee with this exposition along with the old show in the background. Naturally, and due to the period in which this show was created, there is a stunning woman in a crazy costume. Oy gawd she is something else, all flat stomach and long, slender legs. Big eyes, too. Why not? Right? I'm sure more of her on the screen will cause all manner of trouble inside. It is bound to happen because I am a basket case. Wow, she is beautiful. Not many lines, though. Too bad. and to think that the loveliness is now fifty years older does not help, either. Just another form I will never be near enough to see clearly. Like all the rest? Almost. Ugh. Look... Nothing more. But there is no need for serious distraction today. I have no worry of becoming overwhelmed for two reasons. First, something took place yesterday which has now altered my thinking in such a direction, and second, I have more important worries. Bigger fish which have taken priority, as it were. We shall see if the change in mood from last night will carry on longer and place me in a reckless state. Ah, there she is again. Damn. The remainder of today -- at least, until I must drive south in six hours -- will be spent planning whatever I can do to change the manner in which others view me. I still have a few chores, too. They will be addressed a little at a time so I can think clearly. Projects will sit, some items will be listed for sale or free, and I will remain inside as I have for the last several weeks. I mentioned in 'Red Roses' that the differences will stay out of sight until such time as I can demonstrate my dissatisfaction in life. Well, this must be so. I cannot let loose with clues. The only slip so far was early this morning as we left the house. I saw the mail (it is being delivered very late these days for some reason, and used to arrive mid-morning) and was happy that my ballot had been picked up. She wished to look at the mail but I stated that we had to leave. And then a remark along the lines of, 'maybe there are hundred-dollar bills or diamonds in the mailbox', meaning she was trying to be funny. I replied that nothing good will ever happen to me again. How's that for funny? Not good, but such is my mindset right now. All of the memories are killing me inside and causing any hope to fall away. Once again, I did it to myself through many years of uncaring, and no fucking planning. Screwed. She has such pretty eyes. Sadness. And God damn if there isn't another in the background and right between two males of a variety which is frightening. Splendid. Combining them with the football and recent conversation is enough to send me straight to hell. Twenty-five thousand lines now. Woe is me. Aside from my typical duties, I plan to complete this and get it into production before leaving the house later. All of the items which have sat idle are going to remain as such because I just don't give a shit about much right now. Last night really spun me. I have always felt helpful and useful, however this morning I sense that I have been reduced to a tool which is used for maintenance of way. That is all. My first instinct was to lash out and speak my mind, but honestly the best path right now is to remain quiet and do what I can for slamming others when the time is realized. My recent mention of the forest is a part of this, too. The mindset is necessary for being cold toward people. I cannot believe how much yesterday affected me. Both situations are diametrically opposing points, but still related. Within my head, I see the damage of the past returning and sending me off my feet with force. To be appreciated is one thing, although when it is spoken as if being told to a servant, my reaction is not good. The first situation helped me to see that one need superseded another and had me at its mercy for a time. I simply cannot allow the same type of weakness to occur in the future. I must remain mindful of my desire and temper it with anger. Two against one. The one? Me. Oh wait... Three. I am against myself, too. Maybe I won't get anything finished today. I just don't give a shit right now. The more I think about yesterday, the more I believe there is to be no resolution to any of the fucking issues. They just keep coming back and back and back. No sooner do I rise above one or two of them when something comes along and crushes me to the core. Like earlier when the woman was on the television and simply a figure in the background, I could not help but fall down, and that after already being preoccupied by what took place yesterday afternoon and the shit of the evening. I am surprised to be sitting here right now, too. Had I some decent cash, the car would not be parked outside at this moment. But, like always, I do what is expected of me and my needs take a far-back seat. I am here right now with chores weighing on my brain because I've become a slave to my own good, helpful intentions. Well, fuck me in a Goddamned broken coffee cup. I feel the need to do something but have no idea of what. This is going to get worse. I know it. For the time being I have to remain calm and carry out my usual crap as if nothing is wrong. I see that as the best way for me to proceed until I can come up with ideas. Selling some things is never a bad decision so long as nothing meaningful goes out the door. I've had enough of that, and the time in question was eleven when I felt worse than ever. Memories went out the door in boxes and destroyed me years later, and I cannot have that again. I would not survive. So, a few items will go in favor of cash, but nothing even slightly important, no matter their value. The remainder of my behavior will display nothing other than my typical jolly self. Heh. Maybe I'll get out of here for a little while today. I can pick some things up at the hardware and have keys made, and then perhaps grab something to eat and bring it home. I am no longer weary of going out the door like months ago. Honestly, I don't give a fuck what happens to me out there. Something different may be in order. Perhaps a drive across Nevada. Ah... Just kidding. If only. Do you see the dolls? So amazing. They have personality in those expressions, mostly the last. I just love the way their faces appear so alive. Inanimate, unlike a machine, yet they can be anything a person wishes. Any fucking thing, with nary a thought related. No life, no words, no nothing. Love. It. The air outside smells like fall. It's bad. I have been flooded with those big holiday events of the past and they are gone for good. I can do absolutely nothing now in any similar direction. I see the big tree standing in her living room, all thousands of lights and glowing like nothing else. Hundreds of ornaments forcing the branches downward, as if weighed by snow. That was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen and loved visiting it all season long. And then the dinners. All of it. And what do I have now? Everything I fucking deserve. And that is exactly nothing. Time to write about the skates." 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Coemeter Mature content No. 176 Published October 20th, 2020 11:08am pdt read ( words) Past entries "Yesterday turned out to be nearly worthless. The previous night held festivities which were unexpected and I ended up helping the neighbor with his bike for a while, resulting in a later night than I am accustomed. These days I am so fucking programmed (heh) that anything out of the norm sends me spinning. Much of yesterday was spent relaxing. I can't have that again. On the upside, this morning I am bright and ready for the day. My brain has been pretty well soaked with worry and memories, but otherwise I believe after the trial of yesterday I can do well today. Speaking of the D-555 took a lot out of me. Ugh. Look at the images here and you may realize the depth of my issues with females. Combined with the past? Not good. At the beginning of a new week. I hope this one doesn't end like the last. I've been worried so much about everything related to that 'thing' I mentioned last week. Preoccupied. My concern is that there may be nothing for me anymore. The tab? I am still paying it. And there is much more, I believe. Dreaming of that wondrous period which continues to drift into this content is not helping me, nor is the idea that the tangible memories have all been carelessly thrown away. I do not feel good about any of it, and if you sit there and tell me that the good memories are supposed to make me smile, well, I don't think so, Tim. I rarely smile anymore, and when I do recall something from that time (like some Christmas ornaments which are now equally GONE), I do not feel good. I feel as if I will not be happy again due to my own shit behavior. And yes, part of me still believes I do not deserve to be happy anymore but I don't know if that is fair. I am all fucked up right now, and right on top of the pile is the 'thingy'. On and off all day it comes and goes in my head and makes me so sad that I cannot function properly. Now we are moving closer to the holidays and the ornaments came to mind (from the early nineties, of course). This is all nearly too much. The one little upside is the weather finally cooled yesterday and should be done for the year. At least I can be kind of comfortable. Physically, none other. Today will be better than yesterday for two reasons. I will be alone most of the day and in control of the environment, and I feel much improved after resting and resetting myself throughout the last twenty hours. Saturday night was a mistake. This morning represents all those little things I do from one day to the next which keep my tiny world in order. I have other tasks today, too, and they will bring solace to my head this evening. This is good. I don't need anything else shoving me in the other direction. Annabella will be on the screen shortly and I don't fucking care. No Jolene today, either. I can't have that right now. Back to the day. I have no high aspirations, only small chores and things which need to be in order. I have to maintain the daily operation of the house, so the routine takes priority. I should be able to keep myself together through the morning and beyond. If the preoccupation with the other situation pushes me too much, I may have to jump in the car and get the hell out of here for a while. The distractions are going to prove more necessary now than in recent months. I don't know what happened to me during the past months, but something is different. I've turned out to be quite cold and withdrawn, and none of it has anything to do with the state of the world. Things have loosened some and made going out to do business much easier than in the beginning way back in March. Here we are in October -- and a good portion of it is behind now -- and the world feels more comfortable. I don't know if it's real or not, though. There may still be another flare as people settle in to the way businesses have opened again. But I am feeling as if the way I lived day-to-day life has changed very much. The comfort of home is still best. I am back from the morning drive and watching last night's game with what coffee remains. The day's activities are in front of me and I must stay distracted or the issue will take over and leave me terribly weak and depressed. It's been hanging on in the background of each minute since Thursday. Ugh. I have few options right now. As for being different, I feel like everything is dire now, or perhaps I just can't focus upon anything as easily as during past years. And I mean recent years while working and trying to enjoy the time off. We can't take a vacation these days, going out is still a chore, and considering my not working for months, the cash flow sucks out loud. I am being squeezed between two of the issues and my own limitations in finding work. I just don't know what to do and am growing weary of saying it. Keep trying, I suppose. The memories of thirty years ago have been keeping me preoccupied with being sad. They will not let up at all and have me falling into comparisons of that period versus the present. Not good, that type of thinking. I mentioned the D-555 and stories of it following me for two decades, and then a snippet of the ornaments. I might go into those, but might not. I just don't know if it's a good idea considering my down state right now. There is another, too. A big one. All of it is pushing me down and I am helpless to get up. I can't believe that those objects would shine as they now do and pull at my heart. This is not good at all. I don't need more on my shoulders than the aforementioned 'thingy'. That problem is enough to throw me off any thought process. I am preoccupied right now, in fact. The words are getting tough and I may need to leave this alone and take care of my routine. Pause. That is that. Yesterday is gone like all the rest. I finished my stuff, had a visitor for a little while, and then took my usual drive down and back. The evening was a little fucked up, though. Dinner was interrupted by the phone (as it has on occasion for some weeks now), but I sat and ate anyway while watching a movie which goes back further than my beloved time period. I sat patiently and waited, after a while deciding to go to bed. Here I sit now in the early morning with memories churning my insides. I am appreciated. All of the things I do every day, the work, the driving, the supportive nature of my every word. I am appreciated. This is good, right? No, quite the reverse. I am the machine who does the chores and remains in the background of life with nary a consideration for what has been left on the side of the road for too many years. The next entry is bad, but this one is shaping up to be nearly as wrecked. I have dreamed of a machine of my own. A loving, beautiful, unfeeling and tightly-controlled android which would never leave my side nor question anything in life. Now? I am the machine. Nothing more. Today is going to need to be very good. In a little over an hour I will drive, after which there will be no need until three days from now. Upon returning, things in order as expected, but inside I will be calculating all the while. I have to get myself into such a position so as to facilitate a very different kind of comfort from what I have been enjoying for most of this year. Out there somewhere is the answer. Small steps and silence are paramount now. The funny part is I can remain right here yet be on a different planet at the same fucking time. I will be an alien, harsh and unpleasant. After the 'Red Roses' and all those words toward my making changes, last night is the clincher. It really is. Now I am thinking quite the opposite from just days back. I am going to keep on with the memories, though. I need to get all of it out there. As of this morning, that period in time is now even more precious. I wish I had known. Leading up to the latter half of the Marisa period, yet she no longer matters. Frozen in time or otherwise, she is just a face anymore. Other parts of that time have taken over. Pause. And back from the drive. I've completed some of the daily routine and decided to sip coffee with this exposition along with the old show in the background. Naturally, and due to the period in which this show was created, there is a stunning woman in a crazy costume. Oy gawd she is something else, all flat stomach and long, slender legs. Big eyes, too. Why not? Right? I'm sure more of her on the screen will cause all manner of trouble inside. It is bound to happen because I am a basket case. Wow, she is beautiful. Not many lines, though. Too bad. and to think that the loveliness is now fifty years older does not help, either. Just another form I will never be near enough to see clearly. Like all the rest? Almost. Ugh. Look... Nothing more. But there is no need for serious distraction today. I have no worry of becoming overwhelmed for two reasons. First, something took place yesterday which has now altered my thinking in such a direction, and second, I have more important worries. Bigger fish which have taken priority, as it were. We shall see if the change in mood from last night will carry on longer and place me in a reckless state. Ah, there she is again. Damn. The remainder of today -- at least, until I must drive south in six hours -- will be spent planning whatever I can do to change the manner in which others view me. I still have a few chores, too. They will be addressed a little at a time so I can think clearly. Projects will sit, some items will be listed for sale or free, and I will remain inside as I have for the last several weeks. I mentioned in 'Red Roses' that the differences will stay out of sight until such time as I can demonstrate my dissatisfaction in life. Well, this must be so. I cannot let loose with clues. The only slip so far was early this morning as we left the house. I saw the mail (it is being delivered very late these days for some reason, and used to arrive mid-morning) and was happy that my ballot had been picked up. She wished to look at the mail but I stated that we had to leave. And then a remark along the lines of, 'maybe there are hundred-dollar bills or diamonds in the mailbox', meaning she was trying to be funny. I replied that nothing good will ever happen to me again. How's that for funny? Not good, but such is my mindset right now. All of the memories are killing me inside and causing any hope to fall away. Once again, I did it to myself through many years of uncaring, and no fucking planning. Screwed. She has such pretty eyes. Sadness. And God damn if there isn't another in the background and right between two males of a variety which is frightening. Splendid. Combining them with the football and recent conversation is enough to send me straight to hell. Twenty-five thousand lines now. Woe is me. Aside from my typical duties, I plan to complete this and get it into production before leaving the house later. All of the items which have sat idle are going to remain as such because I just don't give a shit about much right now. Last night really spun me. I have always felt helpful and useful, however this morning I sense that I have been reduced to a tool which is used for maintenance of way. That is all. My first instinct was to lash out and speak my mind, but honestly the best path right now is to remain quiet and do what I can for slamming others when the time is realized. My recent mention of the forest is a part of this, too. The mindset is necessary for being cold toward people. I cannot believe how much yesterday affected me. Both situations are diametrically opposing points, but still related. Within my head, I see the damage of the past returning and sending me off my feet with force. To be appreciated is one thing, although when it is spoken as if being told to a servant, my reaction is not good. The first situation helped me to see that one need superseded another and had me at its mercy for a time. I simply cannot allow the same type of weakness to occur in the future. I must remain mindful of my desire and temper it with anger. Two against one. The one? Me. Oh wait... Three. I am against myself, too. Maybe I won't get anything finished today. I just don't give a shit right now. The more I think about yesterday, the more I believe there is to be no resolution to any of the fucking issues. They just keep coming back and back and back. No sooner do I rise above one or two of them when something comes along and crushes me to the core. Like earlier when the woman was on the television and simply a figure in the background, I could not help but fall down, and that after already being preoccupied by what took place yesterday afternoon and the shit of the evening. I am surprised to be sitting here right now, too. Had I some decent cash, the car would not be parked outside at this moment. But, like always, I do what is expected of me and my needs take a far-back seat. I am here right now with chores weighing on my brain because I've become a slave to my own good, helpful intentions. Well, fuck me in a Goddamned broken coffee cup. I feel the need to do something but have no idea of what. This is going to get worse. I know it. For the time being I have to remain calm and carry out my usual crap as if nothing is wrong. I see that as the best way for me to proceed until I can come up with ideas. Selling some things is never a bad decision so long as nothing meaningful goes out the door. I've had enough of that, and the time in question was eleven when I felt worse than ever. Memories went out the door in boxes and destroyed me years later, and I cannot have that again. I would not survive. So, a few items will go in favor of cash, but nothing even slightly important, no matter their value. The remainder of my behavior will display nothing other than my typical jolly self. Heh. Maybe I'll get out of here for a little while today. I can pick some things up at the hardware and have keys made, and then perhaps grab something to eat and bring it home. I am no longer weary of going out the door like months ago. Honestly, I don't give a fuck what happens to me out there. Something different may be in order. Perhaps a drive across Nevada. Ah... Just kidding. If only. Do you see the dolls? So amazing. They have personality in those expressions, mostly the last. I just love the way their faces appear so alive. Inanimate, unlike a machine, yet they can be anything a person wishes. Any fucking thing, with nary a thought related. No life, no words, no nothing. Love. It. The air outside smells like fall. It's bad. I have been flooded with those big holiday events of the past and they are gone for good. I can do absolutely nothing now in any similar direction. I see the big tree standing in her living room, all thousands of lights and glowing like nothing else. Hundreds of ornaments forcing the branches downward, as if weighed by snow. That was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen and loved visiting it all season long. And then the dinners. All of it. And what do I have now? Everything I fucking deserve. And that is exactly nothing. Time to write about the skates."
Coemeter
Mature content No. 176 Published October 20th, 2020 11:08am pdt read ( words) Past entries
"Yesterday turned out to be nearly worthless. The previous night held festivities which were unexpected and I ended up helping the neighbor with his bike for a while, resulting in a later night than I am accustomed. These days I am so fucking programmed (heh) that anything out of the norm sends me spinning. Much of yesterday was spent relaxing. I can't have that again. On the upside, this morning I am bright and ready for the day. My brain has been pretty well soaked with worry and memories, but otherwise I believe after the trial of yesterday I can do well today. Speaking of the D-555 took a lot out of me. Ugh. Look at the images here and you may realize the depth of my issues with females. Combined with the past? Not good. At the beginning of a new week. I hope this one doesn't end like the last. I've been worried so much about everything related to that 'thing' I mentioned last week. Preoccupied. My concern is that there may be nothing for me anymore. The tab? I am still paying it. And there is much more, I believe. Dreaming of that wondrous period which continues to drift into this content is not helping me, nor is the idea that the tangible memories have all been carelessly thrown away. I do not feel good about any of it, and if you sit there and tell me that the good memories are supposed to make me smile, well, I don't think so, Tim. I rarely smile anymore, and when I do recall something from that time (like some Christmas ornaments which are now equally GONE), I do not feel good. I feel as if I will not be happy again due to my own shit behavior. And yes, part of me still believes I do not deserve to be happy anymore but I don't know if that is fair. I am all fucked up right now, and right on top of the pile is the 'thingy'. On and off all day it comes and goes in my head and makes me so sad that I cannot function properly. Now we are moving closer to the holidays and the ornaments came to mind (from the early nineties, of course). This is all nearly too much. The one little upside is the weather finally cooled yesterday and should be done for the year. At least I can be kind of comfortable. Physically, none other. Today will be better than yesterday for two reasons. I will be alone most of the day and in control of the environment, and I feel much improved after resting and resetting myself throughout the last twenty hours. Saturday night was a mistake. This morning represents all those little things I do from one day to the next which keep my tiny world in order. I have other tasks today, too, and they will bring solace to my head this evening. This is good. I don't need anything else shoving me in the other direction. Annabella will be on the screen shortly and I don't fucking care. No Jolene today, either. I can't have that right now. Back to the day. I have no high aspirations, only small chores and things which need to be in order. I have to maintain the daily operation of the house, so the routine takes priority. I should be able to keep myself together through the morning and beyond. If the preoccupation with the other situation pushes me too much, I may have to jump in the car and get the hell out of here for a while. The distractions are going to prove more necessary now than in recent months.
I don't know what happened to me during the past months, but something is different. I've turned out to be quite cold and withdrawn, and none of it has anything to do with the state of the world. Things have loosened some and made going out to do business much easier than in the beginning way back in March. Here we are in October -- and a good portion of it is behind now -- and the world feels more comfortable. I don't know if it's real or not, though. There may still be another flare as people settle in to the way businesses have opened again. But I am feeling as if the way I lived day-to-day life has changed very much. The comfort of home is still best. I am back from the morning drive and watching last night's game with what coffee remains. The day's activities are in front of me and I must stay distracted or the issue will take over and leave me terribly weak and depressed. It's been hanging on in the background of each minute since Thursday. Ugh. I have few options right now. As for being different, I feel like everything is dire now, or perhaps I just can't focus upon anything as easily as during past years. And I mean recent years while working and trying to enjoy the time off. We can't take a vacation these days, going out is still a chore, and considering my not working for months, the cash flow sucks out loud. I am being squeezed between two of the issues and my own limitations in finding work. I just don't know what to do and am growing weary of saying it. Keep trying, I suppose. The memories of thirty years ago have been keeping me preoccupied with being sad. They will not let up at all and have me falling into comparisons of that period versus the present. Not good, that type of thinking. I mentioned the D-555 and stories of it following me for two decades, and then a snippet of the ornaments. I might go into those, but might not. I just don't know if it's a good idea considering my down state right now. There is another, too. A big one. All of it is pushing me down and I am helpless to get up. I can't believe that those objects would shine as they now do and pull at my heart. This is not good at all. I don't need more on my shoulders than the aforementioned 'thingy'. That problem is enough to throw me off any thought process. I am preoccupied right now, in fact. The words are getting tough and I may need to leave this alone and take care of my routine. Pause.
That is that. Yesterday is gone like all the rest. I finished my stuff, had a visitor for a little while, and then took my usual drive down and back. The evening was a little fucked up, though. Dinner was interrupted by the phone (as it has on occasion for some weeks now), but I sat and ate anyway while watching a movie which goes back further than my beloved time period. I sat patiently and waited, after a while deciding to go to bed. Here I sit now in the early morning with memories churning my insides. I am appreciated. All of the things I do every day, the work, the driving, the supportive nature of my every word. I am appreciated. This is good, right? No, quite the reverse. I am the machine who does the chores and remains in the background of life with nary a consideration for what has been left on the side of the road for too many years. The next entry is bad, but this one is shaping up to be nearly as wrecked. I have dreamed of a machine of my own. A loving, beautiful, unfeeling and tightly-controlled android which would never leave my side nor question anything in life. Now? I am the machine. Nothing more. Today is going to need to be very good. In a little over an hour I will drive, after which there will be no need until three days from now. Upon returning, things in order as expected, but inside I will be calculating all the while. I have to get myself into such a position so as to facilitate a very different kind of comfort from what I have been enjoying for most of this year. Out there somewhere is the answer. Small steps and silence are paramount now. The funny part is I can remain right here yet be on a different planet at the same fucking time. I will be an alien, harsh and unpleasant. After the 'Red Roses' and all those words toward my making changes, last night is the clincher. It really is. Now I am thinking quite the opposite from just days back. I am going to keep on with the memories, though. I need to get all of it out there. As of this morning, that period in time is now even more precious. I wish I had known. Leading up to the latter half of the Marisa period, yet she no longer matters. Frozen in time or otherwise, she is just a face anymore. Other parts of that time have taken over. Pause. And back from the drive. I've completed some of the daily routine and decided to sip coffee with this exposition along with the old show in the background. Naturally, and due to the period in which this show was created, there is a stunning woman in a crazy costume. Oy gawd she is something else, all flat stomach and long, slender legs. Big eyes, too. Why not? Right? I'm sure more of her on the screen will cause all manner of trouble inside. It is bound to happen because I am a basket case. Wow, she is beautiful. Not many lines, though. Too bad. and to think that the loveliness is now fifty years older does not help, either. Just another form I will never be near enough to see clearly. Like all the rest? Almost. Ugh. Look... Nothing more. But there is no need for serious distraction today. I have no worry of becoming overwhelmed for two reasons. First, something took place yesterday which has now altered my thinking in such a direction, and second, I have more important worries. Bigger fish which have taken priority, as it were. We shall see if the change in mood from last night will carry on longer and place me in a reckless state. Ah, there she is again. Damn. The remainder of today -- at least, until I must drive south in six hours -- will be spent planning whatever I can do to change the manner in which others view me. I still have a few chores, too. They will be addressed a little at a time so I can think clearly. Projects will sit, some items will be listed for sale or free, and I will remain inside as I have for the last several weeks. I mentioned in 'Red Roses' that the differences will stay out of sight until such time as I can demonstrate my dissatisfaction in life. Well, this must be so. I cannot let loose with clues. The only slip so far was early this morning as we left the house. I saw the mail (it is being delivered very late these days for some reason, and used to arrive mid-morning) and was happy that my ballot had been picked up. She wished to look at the mail but I stated that we had to leave. And then a remark along the lines of, 'maybe there are hundred-dollar bills or diamonds in the mailbox', meaning she was trying to be funny. I replied that nothing good will ever happen to me again. How's that for funny? Not good, but such is my mindset right now. All of the memories are killing me inside and causing any hope to fall away. Once again, I did it to myself through many years of uncaring, and no fucking planning. Screwed. She has such pretty eyes. Sadness. And God damn if there isn't another in the background and right between two males of a variety which is frightening. Splendid. Combining them with the football and recent conversation is enough to send me straight to hell.
Twenty-five thousand lines now. Woe is me. Aside from my typical duties, I plan to complete this and get it into production before leaving the house later. All of the items which have sat idle are going to remain as such because I just don't give a shit about much right now. Last night really spun me. I have always felt helpful and useful, however this morning I sense that I have been reduced to a tool which is used for maintenance of way. That is all. My first instinct was to lash out and speak my mind, but honestly the best path right now is to remain quiet and do what I can for slamming others when the time is realized. My recent mention of the forest is a part of this, too. The mindset is necessary for being cold toward people. I cannot believe how much yesterday affected me. Both situations are diametrically opposing points, but still related. Within my head, I see the damage of the past returning and sending me off my feet with force. To be appreciated is one thing, although when it is spoken as if being told to a servant, my reaction is not good. The first situation helped me to see that one need superseded another and had me at its mercy for a time. I simply cannot allow the same type of weakness to occur in the future. I must remain mindful of my desire and temper it with anger. Two against one. The one? Me. Oh wait... Three. I am against myself, too. Maybe I won't get anything finished today. I just don't give a shit right now. The more I think about yesterday, the more I believe there is to be no resolution to any of the fucking issues. They just keep coming back and back and back. No sooner do I rise above one or two of them when something comes along and crushes me to the core. Like earlier when the woman was on the television and simply a figure in the background, I could not help but fall down, and that after already being preoccupied by what took place yesterday afternoon and the shit of the evening. I am surprised to be sitting here right now, too. Had I some decent cash, the car would not be parked outside at this moment. But, like always, I do what is expected of me and my needs take a far-back seat. I am here right now with chores weighing on my brain because I've become a slave to my own good, helpful intentions. Well, fuck me in a Goddamned broken coffee cup. I feel the need to do something but have no idea of what. This is going to get worse. I know it. For the time being I have to remain calm and carry out my usual crap as if nothing is wrong. I see that as the best way for me to proceed until I can come up with ideas. Selling some things is never a bad decision so long as nothing meaningful goes out the door. I've had enough of that, and the time in question was eleven when I felt worse than ever. Memories went out the door in boxes and destroyed me years later, and I cannot have that again. I would not survive. So, a few items will go in favor of cash, but nothing even slightly important, no matter their value. The remainder of my behavior will display nothing other than my typical jolly self. Heh.
Maybe I'll get out of here for a little while today. I can pick some things up at the hardware and have keys made, and then perhaps grab something to eat and bring it home. I am no longer weary of going out the door like months ago. Honestly, I don't give a fuck what happens to me out there. Something different may be in order. Perhaps a drive across Nevada. Ah... Just kidding. If only. Do you see the dolls? So amazing. They have personality in those expressions, mostly the last. I just love the way their faces appear so alive. Inanimate, unlike a machine, yet they can be anything a person wishes. Any fucking thing, with nary a thought related. No life, no words, no nothing. Love. It. The air outside smells like fall. It's bad. I have been flooded with those big holiday events of the past and they are gone for good. I can do absolutely nothing now in any similar direction. I see the big tree standing in her living room, all thousands of lights and glowing like nothing else. Hundreds of ornaments forcing the branches downward, as if weighed by snow. That was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen and loved visiting it all season long. And then the dinners. All of it. And what do I have now? Everything I fucking deserve. And that is exactly nothing. Time to write about the skates."
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