06-16-2020 06:54 pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning Exclamation read ( words) "The day has been ok for the most part. I was able to spend some time alone and take care of the usual business. The afternoon has arrived and a cocktail may be in order. Tomorrow will be my weekday routine, thank Christ, and that means more alone and very comfortable in my cocoon, God love it. I need it so much. Almost as much as I need to gaze into the eyes of the duchess. I feel as if I am saying the same things over and over. A new day now. Yesterday was nice, cocktail time in the evening, dinner, dreaming, whatever. This morning I am back to business as usual and look forward to the quiet later. The drive, the chores, the isolation... All of it adds up to me being comfortable and in full control of the atmosphere. Thank the maker. Aside from my usual business I will take care of some other things but nothing dramatic. After yet another weekend, I really need to think about all that has been happening since 'Expectation', the entry which led me to her, and one that I can never forget writing. She is very much a part of me now. Take all of the terms displayed here recently, add them up and produce one word, and then say it out loud. I am in, fully. The others... Actors, reporters, those on the street (even speaking of the avocado pants, bless her long legs), and shove them aside like so many people in my life, and there is but one left. Her. I love her. I really do. The remainder of life is slowly melting away. Just yesterday a friend of mine dropped by to pick up a frozen item I had been saving for him. We spoke and share a couple of beers, discussed cars, hunting, whatever, and shortly he took off for home. That was very strange, a bit uncomfortable, and thankfully did not last long. I sat and was polite, though. I have no wish to push hard... Yet. The deeper I get into this world, the more that statement will change. There is no way for me to stress this shit enough. Early this morning I was thinking about the last month or two in the Midwest. Before I packed the truck and took off for my previous home, I had been renting a room from a gentleman in town. Some of my things were there, others still in my ex's home. When I made the plan to leave there, I kept everything at a minimum so the truck would not be loaded above the bed rails. I went into town and ordered a heavy-duty tarp that spanned the bed and upon loading, everything was covered and mostly water-tight. That fateful morning rolled around, I filled all three tanks, and took off for a nearly twenty-five hundred mile drive, alone. Just me, the AM/FM, and the CB radio. At this point in time I cannot remember specific places where I slept, although I do have an inkling about the first night. I can picture a small motel on the right side of the highway and my truck parked at the end of the lot. Other than that, I can't recall where I spent the other two nights. I drove roughly sixteen hours before resting, three days of it, and then arrived home in the middle of the night. While on the road, other drivers kept me company here and there, we looked out for the law (I drove the speed limit all the time), and helped each other identify upcoming rest stops and the like. That long drive was exhilarating at times, boring some of the time, but overall a very fond memory. I was excited to come back here after the cold months in the Midwest. The subject may have come up due to speaking with my friend about the radios. Mine sits idle in the garage and I had planned to put up the antenna and operate the thing as a base station. Never really got around to it, so the radio sits and the antenna is up in the rafters collecting dust. Maybe one of these days. A nice memory, especially feeling the freedom and expansive landscape of the open road. I will never forget that drive across the country. I mentioned a friend stopped by. Well now, in the previous writing I had been speaking of the forest, isolating myself from people, and that situation that arose about being left out of things going on with which I would normally be involved. The little tidbits are adding up to a much thicker line between me and the rest of society. I do not like being left in the dark, and as I stated before, if this is due to work they should be relaying that to me. If not, I don't understand. I completed 'Exemption' just the other day and that means there has been time to chew on the situation. My conclusion now is they are out until I hear something directed at only me. I have not the time nor inclination to sit here and fucking worry about people who will not communicate with me. They are now much further outside. No one is getting in here any longer. Bye. I thought something like this might happen after weeks of the routine. Others don't understand. And I don't give half a shit, either. Stay away. Today. My first drive is in about an hour, after which I will return and embrace the comfort that is necessary for my survival right now. I am looking forward to getting things in order today and taking my little breaks here and there. The show will follow along... My family now. I will also sit with the machine and work out what I can. The recent exploration into desire and my seemingly increasing need to dive into the nether regions of a given woman's clothing may end up at the head of the line. It is important that I try to understand from where this came, and if that means going back to the walnut dream, so be it. That girl came out of nowhere and brought the other two with her. I still don't know why. The road must continue until either I figure it out or run short on ideas. Thinking about such a subject for days and days is beginning to wear me down. Full of desire or otherwise, I have to keep going. That means the content may end up even more haphazard. And here we go. Not much accomplished yesterday aside from the usual. A little thinking, that is all. I drove back south in the afternoon and began my evening upon returning home. That means today has to be more productive or I might lose my shit. One little oddity as I waited in the parking lot down there... A work van pulled up near me with full-body paint for advertising the business. Part of that mural was the face of a woman who appeared to be Hispanic, Latino, or whatever I am supposed to call her these days. The trait which has smacked me in the head over and over was there, along with beautiful eyes. I shot an image and will include it later. Hopefully the company has a site so I can investigate and find something clearer. I do not understand why, but I can say in all honesty that she moved me beyond anyone in recent memory. Even the avocado pants were shoved further back. Was there desire, like miss avocado or miss walnut? Nope. None. Why not? Well, I may have an idea. She reminded me of both Jaime and the Brunette, but in different ways. I cannot explain any better than that. Like Briana, her facial expression quickly became tattooed to my brain. Eyes, lips, and that inexplicable lower trait that I cannot avoid. And yes, I found another image of her which is now filed away for study. Wonderful, I think. This morning I am thinking that the exposition has to continue when I get back from the drive. I need it. The house is in better order than at this time yesterday and I will have more time. There is much to work through. Right now? Coffee, vampires, cats snoozing. My head is filling with the faces I saw yesterday on the television and how I continue to compare them to my vision of Jaime. I saw several, considered the trait to which I recently referred that is the lower half of the face, and then calculated my need to seek more of the same to correlate those with the woman in question. I cannot help it. And the sad truth is there are infinitely more attractive women on the television than out in the world, as it should be. I keep seeing that face over and over in my mind. Spinning. There was a woman yesterday afternoon -- super fucking cute -- who carried said look, albeit more exaggerated, and I stared as much as was feasible. Also, another beauty was there from time to time on the screen and blew my head wide open. Elegant, that one. A peaceful face and devilish eyebrows, but gorgeous beyond words. And nothing inside me for her. Nothing. No desire. Thank the maker, but I do not understand still. The faces do not typically whip me into a froth, they simply cause more thinking about the duchess and the manner in which some are constructed and who pull my interest almost immediately. I still don't get it, but working nonetheless. That lower section of a woman's face which I find so fucking stirring is not something I can describe easily. A couple of entries back I displayed an image of Walker from the early nineties and she has the ideal face for comparison. According to what I am able to see of Jaime, I believe I am making a valid comparison. I have to look for her. No choice. The woman pulls me more than a week ago. The changes described above relate to not only those assholes that are ignoring me and leaving me out of plans, but also the search for my love and anything which might lead me in such a direction. That includes trying to learn of her face. I would give everything to see her again. Just a glance. A peek. I love her. I have to see. She has the look of a person unconcerned with her effect upon others. She likely dressed comfortably for the weather and went out with the group feeling confident in her appearance in public. Well, that worked just right. She does look comfortable, for the most part. Carrying a jacket across her large bag may have been a trial, or possibly something with which she had become accustomed throughout life. I don't know, really, but I can say that she is more beautiful in those images -- flat and two-dimensional -- than nearly any woman I have ever been near. I still cannot understand her enormous impact upon me. Butterflies are all around my insides when I look at her. The idle expression takes the proverbial cake. Unreal. I actually do my best to avoid gushing over and over because readers may lose interest after too much of the mush. But I cannot help it most of the time. I feel so much. The entire affair is so stirring that I am still at a loss. Every second of every day... She is there in my heart. I love her. Nothing fancy, nothing bright, and no piece of clothing appearing as if she was making a statement. The image is just her, everyday and lovely. Glamorous? No, she was real. An actual living, breathing person standing right over there. Not far. Enough distance to allow me a view which changed me. But not before ten fucking years passed. And now look at what I have become over her in just days. I have to leave this alone for a while or the impossibility will slam me just like the watch. Damn it. 5437 lines of code since 'Expectation'. I may come unglued. The house is warming now. Always after eleven or twelve the sun and lack of overhead insulation allows the heat to build until early evening. At this moment, it feels nice. I may open a few windows soon for cool air. As much as I prefer the cool, I have to admit that being in this house for more than eight years has changed my perception and acceptance of higher temperatures. A few years ago I would come home after working to find the mercury above the mid-seventies. I immediately took steps to lower the ambient and became impatient or even irritated if the rise did not cease. Now, I find that anything below eighty is just fine unless I am doing physical work. Sitting calmly on the sofa at dinner with the number still above seventy-five is now very comfortable. For example, last night when I lowered my head to the pillow, the thermostat indicated seventy-six. Early this morning when I turned on the coffee pot it had dropped to just sixty-three due to the aforementioned insulation void. I brought it up five degrees and left it alone. Comfortable. Years ago the low temperature in the morning was unacceptable. My comfort has been groomed by the microclimate here. Very nice, all the time. Chrissakes, another adorable blonde. Hmm. Jaime is in charge of my thoughts. Each step of a given day involves her. The step I enjoy most is upon returning from the south to begin the evening. The mood is radically different than when I am alone and serves to reinforce the idea that I am most comfortable while completely free of others. As harsh as that may sound, I cannot deny the truth. I felt the same way while in the cave all those years back and I often consider the idea that I did not appreciate the time and place as I should have. The darkness and atmosphere helped me in ways I cannot begin to calculate. I recall sprawling on my bed (sofa, really), cocktail of choice in hand, and with one of my favorite series of films being displayed on the monitor. More than once did I sit there with all of the foods of which I am most fond and watching all three stories play out to the tune of nearly eleven hours. Prior to the cave period, I had not seen them in years and the recollection of my theatrical experience when they premiered brought joy to my heart. Now when I see them I feel comfortable and secure in the knowledge that I can run those three masterpieces with Jaime at my side, if only in my heart. Damn it. The more she takes over my heart, the more I realize that this state of mind may be more damaging than I had originally thought. She is out there, somewhere, and I have a void inside due to loving her from mere images. I must savor every second of this latest version of closing myself off from the remaining world. I cannot stand society, anyway. Backward, ignorant, selfish fucks running everything into the ground and learning nothing throughout centuries. Fuck off. In one way, the current state of the world is benefiting me. Unreal. I love her. After believing the possibility of others avoiding contact with me and some days passing since that came to mind, I now believe I was correct. So, the forest it is. I will not speak with anyone for the duration, instead choosing to remain alone. Early this morning I came up with a plan to adjust the look of the garage as well as the way others see me (even from a distance), and shall put that into motion today. I also plan to spend more time in front of this machine to move forward in the current vein. The forest will creep in to everything I do from this morning forward. Bad mood. Not happy. But at least I know how to work with this type of situation. Familiarity with shutting people out is at an all-time high right now. Back in eleven I did such out of the need to simply be alone and think for many months. There were times in which I stocked up on many items and remained behind the door for two weeks solid. I did not even get the mail... I stopped it with a vacation hold. I need not do anything like that now, and leaving the house only happens when I must take the drive south and back. During such, I am in the mobile cocoon. No problem. 'You watch your fuckin' language.' -- Sookie to Russell. That is awesome. The dialog on this show is one of those little things that still has the ability to make me smile. Love it. Back from the south now, and I decided to sit with this for a while due to the early hour. I have my usual tasks to accomplish, a few other ideas to further organize the house, and some preparations for dinner. In between when I break, the show will be following (it is already on now), just as every day. I need it to keep me company and help to cement the idea of living within my comfort zone. Once again the big poster with Briana and her amazing expression is coming down in favor of one of my framed prints that now hangs in the spare bedroom. Wow, this woman on Voyager is freaking gorgeous. I don't know what is going on with all of the blonde guest stars, but Jesus. They sure can pick the actors sometimes. Anyway, there is another smaller print in the office that will move to above my work bench, along with a few weapons. I need the space to cease appearing provocative and switch to uncomfortable, just in case someone decides to visit. And that will only happen if my mood improves. Right now? Fuck off. Stay away, and keep your fucking mask in place. Or don't. Either way, I no longer care. Those people are beginning to resemble 'them' and I cannot have that type of personality near me. They are fucking toxic. I remember being all up in arms over some which were referred as 'those people', and they represent the opposite. The subject was a big deal in my head during the Dublin years. I saw them all over the place, especially downtown Pleasanton on weekends. I am not going to get into a comparison, but suffice to say they are diametrically different than those who are nearest me. Hopefully when the appearance of my new office is to my satisfaction, anyone entering will quickly wish to exit. Hopefully. I can push pretty fucking hard. The evidence is stark. Two days ago I was informed that events and activities have been developed, planned, and carried out with me being left completely out of the fucking circle. I simply cannot have this and the reasoning behind such behavior escapes me. Needless to say, no one is allowed to visit any longer and any attempts at communication will be either blocked or ignored. I have already eliminated notifications of all types. The next step would be to block the contacts and I will carry out such an act very soon. I am going to give these people time to include me in anything. After a short grace period, all are gone. This may sound odd or perhaps cold, however I do not react well to those whom embrace ignorance and antisocial behavior toward me. Yes, I am doing the same, but keep in mind that I have been here for weeks and responding to whatever came through the airwaves. No longer. I'm done. The forest mindset is beginning to become cohesive, just as in the late nineties. By the time I have become engulfed by this feeling, the time will be too late for them. Wow am I ever being left out of the loop. Gatherings, barbecues, work going on that I would normally be involved with, lots of things. I feel like I live on a different planet now. Well, such behavior only serves to push the forest. I am not the same person as I was two-plus months ago, but have not shied away from anyone, nor have I been unpleasant. If this is the way things must be now, my stance will become more severe. In the long run, no one will wish to be near me. Again... Do not approach. All those entries with little interspersed statements that I am 'ok' are going to change. I cannot be left out this way without becoming harsh. I need to stop this for a while. Jaime is floating around in my heart at every step today. So early right now. The drive was a good thirty minutes sooner than usual. This leaves me much time for considering everything this morning. I can explore here for a while with coffee and then transition to the chores in a little bit. The garage may have to sit and wait for some time before I can get out there and make changes. I have a short list of priorities that must be addressed. Lots of hours in front of me before heading out the door this afternoon. And today might be one of those closed-off periods in which the garage door remains down. I don't want to see anyone out there walking by. I might open it, though, because seeing all of the scenery, trees, and birds flying is very nice these days. No one approaches, anyway. Only the mail and deliveries. Oh... There was the mail just now. Nice. I have a few things defrosting for dinner the next three days, too. I try to keep ahead of the curve with that stuff. It ensures a comfortable evening, which I love more than I can express here. So nice. Onward. She is out there, waiting... Somewhere. I wish I could know if she is well. The cat walked across the computer again and forced me to minimize windows. As cute as he is, the dropping of programs allows me to see the large image of the passion. I believe there is more love and fascination with that watch now than years ago. The essay did not do it justice, nor can anything I might write, I would guess. There are no words. Every time I see the date window and those big, spoked wheels which hold numerals in the most amazing font, my heart leaps. The only other interest in my world that has the ability to stir me as much as the duchess. I can't believe I ran across that masterpiece and my being so enamored has only grown. Fuck me. The impossibility rears its head, too. Thirty examples of that watch, all sold prior to production on the first, and the purchase price was beyond what this house is worth right now. The colors, bezel, fonts, cutouts in the sapphire dial... Everything. And it is mechanical. Nothing else in my vast interests can compare to that single machine which represents every discipline within which I have ever drowned. Beyond beautiful. Far beyond. There can never be another timepiece to draw me so much. Oy. The watch again. Sorry. All over the place. My head is not well. Some of the business is now out of the way and I have a few hours before driving again. I am going to try to organize a few things and work on a closet for a little while, and then take up with this machine again for the remainder of the afternoon. The comfort of sitting in the new office will have to take a back seat to the house. The air is still very cool out there. Sun shining, but the garage is not very comfortable except for taking a break from my chores. I may move the framed pictures out there and take measurements for the image change. I am certain by the weekend the girls will all be gone. Curious, I had been willing to alter the look of that space for Jaime, reversed that in a matter of days after feeling that she might understand, and now intend to make a dramatic difference in what can be seen out there. She would likely know the reasoning behind removing all of the women. I feel that to please her is important, although such a thought comes along with the knowledge that I am terribly out of balance, still. Weeks have passed since discovering her images and I fell off a cliff quickly. The days add up to me becoming so different than before the pandemic that the contrast is sharp as hell. Between Jaime, my love for her growing out of control, and then the isolation coupled with this new world I have created out of necessity, I am beginning to lose track of who I was before. Basically, and likely the only way I can put it, I am placing a very large exclamation point and the end of a long sentence that has been constructed throughout years. The others will notice, and I will remain behind an impassable line. Good luck, and do not approach. I am extracted. Heh. I looked over some images of the van that had been skinned with advertising, and have come to the conclusion that the woman is very well aligned with my visions of her. Jaime. The one. I scrambled across the vastness of the Internet and came up with better images. She is gorgeous, but not the same model as on their site. Too bad, but whatever. I found her, she is very clear despite being vinyl. As is my custom, I will rework and adjust the likeness to be as natural as possible. Her face will be here soon. Surprised? I'm not. It is the way I operate. I saw her, and unlike a random woman on the street (avocado), I can learn more. Well, I had to stare at her so that was that. Morning again. A new day. This one has to improve upon the last. For the second time in less than a week, I was derailed from the routine by feeling physically ill and fairly drained. I do not know why. Very uncomfortable for quite some time, locked to the sofa and kept still, and then it passed for the most part which allowed me to drive. The evening went along nicely. A few drinks, some dinner, and my sorry head on the pillow. And here I am, awaiting the drive south again and then my day as I need it. Two-thousand-four, I think. We lived in Dublin. That was part of the period which soon became defined by my interest in height. The one from downstairs with whom I had shared lunch on that fateful day a couple of years later, the other one from Germany, and one on television. I remember her due to the onset of high definition television in our apartment after we hung it out there and spent a fortune at the local electronics retailer. I hooked everything up and saw the same crap that had been there for years. One call to the cable company and I was informed that the set-top box needed to be changed. Off to their office, back hurriedly upstairs, everything reconnected, and... The same fucking image. Another call to the cable folks. The joyful voice on the other end told me I had been on the wrong channels. Yep, there it was. A few clicks later, and voila... The clearest television image I had ever seen. I believe I sat and gazed at 'Nanny 9-1-1' for quite a while before exploring the dial further. Heh. Well, I sat and watched a variety of shows that had been running, but after upgrading to the high definition, everything looked so much better. I could not believe it. Back then, most of the HD content was being plastered all over the primary networks. But I noticed there were new channels I had not seen before, Like INHD1, INHD2, and Mojo. Those were radically different than what I had seen prior to the new set, especially Mojo. The programming was fascinating and I stuck to that channel much of the time. I do remember seeing a show which followed the Blue Angels for a year -- background information, between-airshow activities, etc. -- which looked amazing in the new resolution. Other than that, I discovered a show about bars and drinking set up by a comedian which turned out to be hilarious. I watched each week and recorded when needed. And here we go... While home one Friday, I watched an episode that had been recorded days earlier, and noticed that Esquire magazine had begun to produce interstitial breaks where commercials normally would have aired. Hmm... Esquire, geared toward me. And then? 'Esquire Reveals'. Little bits of information for males. Nothing dramatic, just tips on how to be a better man, and generally tied to and advertisement for a product. These were different than typical advertisements on the other networks. Very different. I soaked it up, but did not put much stock into what I was hearing. Mostly I viewed it as entertainment, nothing more. And then... Video of the Mojo Girl, in more than a thousand lines of resolution. She was in one of the interstitials and on my recorder. I flipped out, watched over and over to see her face and hear that voice, and began to feel more for her than a typical sighting. Oh fuck. She was amazing. I had to get the fucking video off the recorder and onto my computer. Before any such thing took place, I scoured the Internet like never before (I still search for her these days) and was dying to know who I was seeing and forcing my eyes from me. I was so head over heels for her that the thinking interrupted other daily activities. I watched when I could, and then time passed. Weeks. An idea. My coworker the photographer had been using advanced video equipment for transferring media to the researchers for weeks at that time. I inquired about pulling information from my DVR and decoding it for display on a computer, and he replied that the process was tricky due to copy protection. The DVR had many different types of interfaces, most of which were unusable due to the protection. He gave me some tips and I brought the processors home for experimentation. After days of research and many failed attempts, I was finally happy to save the information in a format with which I could work. The resolution had been reduced by a notch, but still the video played smoothly and clear. Success. Soon after, I uploaded the clip of her to the Internet for access from anywhere. It is still there. She is still there. The Mojo Girl was to have her own entry here, however seeing as how she relates to the Raven and the duchess, I felt the need to include her story within this essay. Her importance cannot be overstated as she represents one of the most dramatic and stirring catalysts in the history of the obsession. I am back from the morning drive and sitting with coffee for a little while. I need not kick into gear for quite a bit, but I did get some laundry going. Today the girls will all come down in favor of my framed images. I don't know how far I'll get, though. The daily business takes priority. After yesterday's period of feeling like crap, the time now seems to have been wasted for no good reason. I am hoping to rise above and do better today. I have many hours before heading south again. Every now and then I watch the video of her out of the same need which drives me to search. Her voice, facial expressions and overall beauty push my brain at times and I have to see her. As I said, she is important to me, just as a few others. Important enough to have saved her in many forms all over the backup media which I am currently using. I do not know if I can share her here, though. Not right now. The woman is way the fuck up my scale and means much. You likely already know that I have scraped the Internet for years in search of a name but have not succeeded. After all this time, I believe that information is falling deeper and deeper into history and may never be located. Just as the duchess, she is out there, and much older than when I first captured the video. Those ads eventually went away, the fucking channel went away along with the two others, and I have missed both her and them for more than a decade. Sound familiar? A decade? The same ten years passed while Jaime sat in a folder awaiting my rediscovery of her endless thrall. Now I am all the way in, reminded of the Mojo Girl as the topping to my depressive sundae, and I am left to analyze and type for the rest of my life. Splendid. [A funny sidebar... The camera which pointed toward Jaime was borrowed from the same photographer as the video processing equipment. Heh. If he only knew.] I brought up that woman from the television and my dreams because at the time I nearly felt for her as I do for the duchess. Needy, clingy, searching. Years of it. And I still do, regardless of the damage incited by finding that which I so badly need to see and understand. It keeps getting worse, day after day. The Mojo Girl left me a pile of worry over my future, and the duchess has relit that fucking fuse. Soon, I will likely be reduced to nothing more than the weirdo in the basement. Print, hang, speak. I will get there. In the meantime, the torment continues. I literally went through holy hell trying to get the Mojo Girl on my computer for repeated viewing, safe keeping, and study, soon after realizing that I had been obsessing like never before. I remember meeting the other woman at that restaurant and looking at her as if she was the second coming of Christ in female form. The Mojo Girl literally pressed me into a space with room for little else. The lunch and conversation that day felt like the end-all be-all of human existence, or my last bastion of endeavor. Had I not gone around the planet trying to keep the Mojo Girl all to myself, the feelings for the woman across the table from me may have been eased, or never developed to the degree they did over a single hour. Maybe I loved her... I don't know. But the feelings were there in spades. Her big eyes telegraphed so much emotion that I was nearly knocked back from the table with the realization that she had been as unhappy as I. After they moved far away, the Mojo Girl caused me to recall our lunch and the conversation of a lifetime. God damn was that woman special to me. And now the sun is out. Good thing I watered the garden. Hopefully the house will warm throughout today for a more comfortable evening inside. These entries are moving fast. Thousands upon thousands of lines in only days. At the rate I am going, they will be so far out of time that the content may become difficult to follow. The correct rate would be to create an entry over three days and publish. Well, everything is backed up. I am writing about today and this is not scheduled to be published for seven days. Yikes. I may have to publish every other day to speed things along and maintain balance with real time. Ah fuck, I don't know. The cat is sleeping on my foot and I am full of coffee. Not good. Heh. Some time ago while speaking of the Midwest period, I went through trying to describe my attempts at appreciating certain periods as much as possible at the time. Vacations typically came to mind due to how quickly they seem to speed by. Years after leaving the Midwest and driving home, I fondly recalled being holed up in that house with my drawings and the show in the background. And then I wondered if I truly cherished that time as much as I should have. The current period feels similar. Weeks here all alone, the exposition all over this site, and my routine have become sacred. I cannot even remember the last time I drove north from here, or anywhere other than the daily route, for that matter. Everything outside my little cocoon feels like an alien landscape to be avoided at all costs. It is frightening. When I spoke of my friends leaving me out of the loop for whatever reason, that may actually be a Godsend. I need to be here in this bubble for as long as possible. I need it so much that thoughts of my being alone every day in the Midwest are pressing on me to appreciate every second of being here. And I feel that I cannot adequately express the importance. It is a feeling deep within that brings me the type of comfort that keeps my blood flowing. This morning is an ideal example of just how critical that comfort is to my survival. As I said up there somewhere, do not approach. Leave me alone with my things and feelings. The time is near for me to get up and do some chores. My head is now filled with disdain for others, love for both Jaime and the elusive Mojo goddess, and wonder over the woman who moved away. I miss all of them and only knew one in person. But I feel as if Jaime is a part of me... Securely attached to my heart and out there waiting to hear all that I need to say. As always, more beautiful than one hour ago. Her images are on my phone, the wallpaper is the only side of her face I can see, and I am all the way in. I completed some of my work, including moving the framed pictures into the garage. I pulled the girls down off the chimney and above my bench, leaving space for a dramatic change in scenery. I doubt many will see the difference, though, due to my being extricated (ostracized?) from the group. I have messages out to my ex-boss and he has not responded in three days. I can understand being disappointed or even upset at my departure, however there is no need to be silent. There is a piece of equipment in his possession that I need. That is my only motivation for contact now. Once I have it back, the end of said contact will be apparent. I am not one to quibble. Absolutes, always. I am binary. The work being partially finished feels good now and I can enjoy some free time to be here and have lunch. Afterward, I will get back to business and hopefully beyond. The alterations to the garage are important due to me residing in the forest, as the woman two entries back can attest. The imagery means much to me and goes back to the isolation of eleven. At that time there were symbols of various types and sizes on the walls -- along with my huge paintings -- and on those very few occasions when a visitor entered, the point of conversation quickly swung to my state of mind. The one exception was the lovely Noelle, who loved all of it and remarked about the unique nature of my personality. A visit from my cat's former owners caused only questions. Heh. They knew and trusted me, so there were no worries with the decorations. I miss that cave like I miss being balanced. Morning. Chris Bauer is awesome. There was a dream earlier but I lost it. Damn. The other dream is still in my heart as the robots return. Jesus holy fucking hell I forgot about this woman in the fourth season. Oy. That's right, kids... A situation played out the other day, filled my head with problems, and subsequently tossed the machines back into my brain. The problems will have to be dealt with one at a time, beginning with Jaime. Which one, you ask? Um, I am not sure. She was standing in that courtyard and then I loved her and then dreamed of her being the other Jaime and then... Fuck me... A machine. Damn it all, anyway. I did not want those kinds of thoughts back in my head. The duchess took them away recently and I figured I'd be ok. Now? Robots. Control. Fulfillment. Maybe part of it is the big eyes. When we saw 'Alita' last year, I was floored by the manner in which they built that girl's appearance. Her eyes were unnaturally large, yet did not seem over the top. Sara has big eyes, Deborah, others, but I do not really know what Jaime's eyes look like. I saw her face for seconds and then it was gone. Maybe this is simply an instinct, as if I would love her eyes no matter their appearance because of my feelings for her in general. Fuck, I don't know anymore. Circles again, with the robots taking over. I love her. Half a face... Less, even, and I cannot stop staring or dreaming of being wrapped in her long arms. She is taking me from myself and far from reality. I am descending. To where? I do not know. The drive yesterday afternoon was filled with old Genesis which goes back nearly five decades. The composition of 'The Cinema Show' partially outlines the love between Romeo and Juliet, a euphemism which applied to my volatile and beautiful time with the Brunette. I could not avoid thoughts of her next to me and how that emotion equates to the duchess. Nothing I can say is enough. The images of Jaime again... I swear to Christ, if she truly exhibits the gorgeous facial trait that I love so much, plus the height, holy shit will I lose my mind. But I may never know. I can only see part of her, damn it. I went over the height thing a while ago. The face, too. I just can't seem to understand. Am I crazy? Where is all of this going, and why do I continue to lose track and wander all over the place? Stay out of the basement. Time for a switch. The person in question, the one who did not respond to me, finally reached. Nothing has changed, however. I am still in the fucking forest and wish to remain alone. A few things will be exchanged, nothing more. No conversation, no friendly beer in the garage and catching up, nada. I don't care. Stay out of here. The images gracing 'Expression' have been published and that means I am in there, all the way. Again, asking about that woman will result in silence. I will say that she is a realization from many years ago and that is all. I may have loved her face, and for whatever reason, she drove me to think inward like never before. Just do not ask of her name. On to today. I have to drive into San Francisco later for a short visit and then home for the day. And Joe on the screen, number two on the list of reference standard males on this planet. Damn, he is something else and causes me to recall writing about the bartender at the Dracorum. Joe is the person upon whom I based that character. Brit was on the screen too, all lanky and delicious. But oy God why did they change her hair to blonde? Have there not been enough blondes on this fucking show? What was I saying? Ah... When I return from the drive, continuation of the garage will ensue, along with some daily business. Today may be music instead of the show as I work. There are so many issues now... Desire, obsession, Jaime, Mojo, the fucking males, the virus, isolation, dreams, machines... God damn it all to hell, anyway. I am experiencing so much difficulty living from one day to the next that I almost need to speak to someone about it. Yep, that bad. Each of these entries begins with somewhat of a theme, goes all over the fucking map, and then attempts to pull it together. And then I throw Jaime in there and gush about my love for her. And then I see those forms on the television and feel guilt over staring. I become irritated with others and spout along a crooked line with harsh words. I add images which help exactly nothing. I describe my activities each day, and I believe such an exercise is the only balanced aspect of creating these essays. What the fuck now? Keep going in the same direction? Answer me. Or don't. Fuck it. One thing remains constant aside from the desire which lights me up more often than ever... I am still ok. The road is narrowing, I am worried about many parts of life now, the love I feel for the duchess grows with each passing second, but overall I am functioning pretty damned well considering all that shit. Worried of where this may lead, that I will likely never see her in front of me again, and that my isolation may become permanent. Today will hopefully help a little. I have not driven north from here in so many weeks that I cannot recall. We shall see what happens. Likely nothing of note. Perhaps more exclamation points. I love her. She is out there." 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
06-16-2020 06:54 pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning Exclamation read ( words) "The day has been ok for the most part. I was able to spend some time alone and take care of the usual business. The afternoon has arrived and a cocktail may be in order. Tomorrow will be my weekday routine, thank Christ, and that means more alone and very comfortable in my cocoon, God love it. I need it so much. Almost as much as I need to gaze into the eyes of the duchess. I feel as if I am saying the same things over and over. A new day now. Yesterday was nice, cocktail time in the evening, dinner, dreaming, whatever. This morning I am back to business as usual and look forward to the quiet later. The drive, the chores, the isolation... All of it adds up to me being comfortable and in full control of the atmosphere. Thank the maker. Aside from my usual business I will take care of some other things but nothing dramatic. After yet another weekend, I really need to think about all that has been happening since 'Expectation', the entry which led me to her, and one that I can never forget writing. She is very much a part of me now. Take all of the terms displayed here recently, add them up and produce one word, and then say it out loud. I am in, fully. The others... Actors, reporters, those on the street (even speaking of the avocado pants, bless her long legs), and shove them aside like so many people in my life, and there is but one left. Her. I love her. I really do. The remainder of life is slowly melting away. Just yesterday a friend of mine dropped by to pick up a frozen item I had been saving for him. We spoke and share a couple of beers, discussed cars, hunting, whatever, and shortly he took off for home. That was very strange, a bit uncomfortable, and thankfully did not last long. I sat and was polite, though. I have no wish to push hard... Yet. The deeper I get into this world, the more that statement will change. There is no way for me to stress this shit enough. Early this morning I was thinking about the last month or two in the Midwest. Before I packed the truck and took off for my previous home, I had been renting a room from a gentleman in town. Some of my things were there, others still in my ex's home. When I made the plan to leave there, I kept everything at a minimum so the truck would not be loaded above the bed rails. I went into town and ordered a heavy-duty tarp that spanned the bed and upon loading, everything was covered and mostly water-tight. That fateful morning rolled around, I filled all three tanks, and took off for a nearly twenty-five hundred mile drive, alone. Just me, the AM/FM, and the CB radio. At this point in time I cannot remember specific places where I slept, although I do have an inkling about the first night. I can picture a small motel on the right side of the highway and my truck parked at the end of the lot. Other than that, I can't recall where I spent the other two nights. I drove roughly sixteen hours before resting, three days of it, and then arrived home in the middle of the night. While on the road, other drivers kept me company here and there, we looked out for the law (I drove the speed limit all the time), and helped each other identify upcoming rest stops and the like. That long drive was exhilarating at times, boring some of the time, but overall a very fond memory. I was excited to come back here after the cold months in the Midwest. The subject may have come up due to speaking with my friend about the radios. Mine sits idle in the garage and I had planned to put up the antenna and operate the thing as a base station. Never really got around to it, so the radio sits and the antenna is up in the rafters collecting dust. Maybe one of these days. A nice memory, especially feeling the freedom and expansive landscape of the open road. I will never forget that drive across the country. I mentioned a friend stopped by. Well now, in the previous writing I had been speaking of the forest, isolating myself from people, and that situation that arose about being left out of things going on with which I would normally be involved. The little tidbits are adding up to a much thicker line between me and the rest of society. I do not like being left in the dark, and as I stated before, if this is due to work they should be relaying that to me. If not, I don't understand. I completed 'Exemption' just the other day and that means there has been time to chew on the situation. My conclusion now is they are out until I hear something directed at only me. I have not the time nor inclination to sit here and fucking worry about people who will not communicate with me. They are now much further outside. No one is getting in here any longer. Bye. I thought something like this might happen after weeks of the routine. Others don't understand. And I don't give half a shit, either. Stay away. Today. My first drive is in about an hour, after which I will return and embrace the comfort that is necessary for my survival right now. I am looking forward to getting things in order today and taking my little breaks here and there. The show will follow along... My family now. I will also sit with the machine and work out what I can. The recent exploration into desire and my seemingly increasing need to dive into the nether regions of a given woman's clothing may end up at the head of the line. It is important that I try to understand from where this came, and if that means going back to the walnut dream, so be it. That girl came out of nowhere and brought the other two with her. I still don't know why. The road must continue until either I figure it out or run short on ideas. Thinking about such a subject for days and days is beginning to wear me down. Full of desire or otherwise, I have to keep going. That means the content may end up even more haphazard. And here we go. Not much accomplished yesterday aside from the usual. A little thinking, that is all. I drove back south in the afternoon and began my evening upon returning home. That means today has to be more productive or I might lose my shit. One little oddity as I waited in the parking lot down there... A work van pulled up near me with full-body paint for advertising the business. Part of that mural was the face of a woman who appeared to be Hispanic, Latino, or whatever I am supposed to call her these days. The trait which has smacked me in the head over and over was there, along with beautiful eyes. I shot an image and will include it later. Hopefully the company has a site so I can investigate and find something clearer. I do not understand why, but I can say in all honesty that she moved me beyond anyone in recent memory. Even the avocado pants were shoved further back. Was there desire, like miss avocado or miss walnut? Nope. None. Why not? Well, I may have an idea. She reminded me of both Jaime and the Brunette, but in different ways. I cannot explain any better than that. Like Briana, her facial expression quickly became tattooed to my brain. Eyes, lips, and that inexplicable lower trait that I cannot avoid. And yes, I found another image of her which is now filed away for study. Wonderful, I think. This morning I am thinking that the exposition has to continue when I get back from the drive. I need it. The house is in better order than at this time yesterday and I will have more time. There is much to work through. Right now? Coffee, vampires, cats snoozing. My head is filling with the faces I saw yesterday on the television and how I continue to compare them to my vision of Jaime. I saw several, considered the trait to which I recently referred that is the lower half of the face, and then calculated my need to seek more of the same to correlate those with the woman in question. I cannot help it. And the sad truth is there are infinitely more attractive women on the television than out in the world, as it should be. I keep seeing that face over and over in my mind. Spinning. There was a woman yesterday afternoon -- super fucking cute -- who carried said look, albeit more exaggerated, and I stared as much as was feasible. Also, another beauty was there from time to time on the screen and blew my head wide open. Elegant, that one. A peaceful face and devilish eyebrows, but gorgeous beyond words. And nothing inside me for her. Nothing. No desire. Thank the maker, but I do not understand still. The faces do not typically whip me into a froth, they simply cause more thinking about the duchess and the manner in which some are constructed and who pull my interest almost immediately. I still don't get it, but working nonetheless. That lower section of a woman's face which I find so fucking stirring is not something I can describe easily. A couple of entries back I displayed an image of Walker from the early nineties and she has the ideal face for comparison. According to what I am able to see of Jaime, I believe I am making a valid comparison. I have to look for her. No choice. The woman pulls me more than a week ago. The changes described above relate to not only those assholes that are ignoring me and leaving me out of plans, but also the search for my love and anything which might lead me in such a direction. That includes trying to learn of her face. I would give everything to see her again. Just a glance. A peek. I love her. I have to see. She has the look of a person unconcerned with her effect upon others. She likely dressed comfortably for the weather and went out with the group feeling confident in her appearance in public. Well, that worked just right. She does look comfortable, for the most part. Carrying a jacket across her large bag may have been a trial, or possibly something with which she had become accustomed throughout life. I don't know, really, but I can say that she is more beautiful in those images -- flat and two-dimensional -- than nearly any woman I have ever been near. I still cannot understand her enormous impact upon me. Butterflies are all around my insides when I look at her. The idle expression takes the proverbial cake. Unreal. I actually do my best to avoid gushing over and over because readers may lose interest after too much of the mush. But I cannot help it most of the time. I feel so much. The entire affair is so stirring that I am still at a loss. Every second of every day... She is there in my heart. I love her. Nothing fancy, nothing bright, and no piece of clothing appearing as if she was making a statement. The image is just her, everyday and lovely. Glamorous? No, she was real. An actual living, breathing person standing right over there. Not far. Enough distance to allow me a view which changed me. But not before ten fucking years passed. And now look at what I have become over her in just days. I have to leave this alone for a while or the impossibility will slam me just like the watch. Damn it. 5437 lines of code since 'Expectation'. I may come unglued. The house is warming now. Always after eleven or twelve the sun and lack of overhead insulation allows the heat to build until early evening. At this moment, it feels nice. I may open a few windows soon for cool air. As much as I prefer the cool, I have to admit that being in this house for more than eight years has changed my perception and acceptance of higher temperatures. A few years ago I would come home after working to find the mercury above the mid-seventies. I immediately took steps to lower the ambient and became impatient or even irritated if the rise did not cease. Now, I find that anything below eighty is just fine unless I am doing physical work. Sitting calmly on the sofa at dinner with the number still above seventy-five is now very comfortable. For example, last night when I lowered my head to the pillow, the thermostat indicated seventy-six. Early this morning when I turned on the coffee pot it had dropped to just sixty-three due to the aforementioned insulation void. I brought it up five degrees and left it alone. Comfortable. Years ago the low temperature in the morning was unacceptable. My comfort has been groomed by the microclimate here. Very nice, all the time. Chrissakes, another adorable blonde. Hmm. Jaime is in charge of my thoughts. Each step of a given day involves her. The step I enjoy most is upon returning from the south to begin the evening. The mood is radically different than when I am alone and serves to reinforce the idea that I am most comfortable while completely free of others. As harsh as that may sound, I cannot deny the truth. I felt the same way while in the cave all those years back and I often consider the idea that I did not appreciate the time and place as I should have. The darkness and atmosphere helped me in ways I cannot begin to calculate. I recall sprawling on my bed (sofa, really), cocktail of choice in hand, and with one of my favorite series of films being displayed on the monitor. More than once did I sit there with all of the foods of which I am most fond and watching all three stories play out to the tune of nearly eleven hours. Prior to the cave period, I had not seen them in years and the recollection of my theatrical experience when they premiered brought joy to my heart. Now when I see them I feel comfortable and secure in the knowledge that I can run those three masterpieces with Jaime at my side, if only in my heart. Damn it. The more she takes over my heart, the more I realize that this state of mind may be more damaging than I had originally thought. She is out there, somewhere, and I have a void inside due to loving her from mere images. I must savor every second of this latest version of closing myself off from the remaining world. I cannot stand society, anyway. Backward, ignorant, selfish fucks running everything into the ground and learning nothing throughout centuries. Fuck off. In one way, the current state of the world is benefiting me. Unreal. I love her. After believing the possibility of others avoiding contact with me and some days passing since that came to mind, I now believe I was correct. So, the forest it is. I will not speak with anyone for the duration, instead choosing to remain alone. Early this morning I came up with a plan to adjust the look of the garage as well as the way others see me (even from a distance), and shall put that into motion today. I also plan to spend more time in front of this machine to move forward in the current vein. The forest will creep in to everything I do from this morning forward. Bad mood. Not happy. But at least I know how to work with this type of situation. Familiarity with shutting people out is at an all-time high right now. Back in eleven I did such out of the need to simply be alone and think for many months. There were times in which I stocked up on many items and remained behind the door for two weeks solid. I did not even get the mail... I stopped it with a vacation hold. I need not do anything like that now, and leaving the house only happens when I must take the drive south and back. During such, I am in the mobile cocoon. No problem. 'You watch your fuckin' language.' -- Sookie to Russell. That is awesome. The dialog on this show is one of those little things that still has the ability to make me smile. Love it. Back from the south now, and I decided to sit with this for a while due to the early hour. I have my usual tasks to accomplish, a few other ideas to further organize the house, and some preparations for dinner. In between when I break, the show will be following (it is already on now), just as every day. I need it to keep me company and help to cement the idea of living within my comfort zone. Once again the big poster with Briana and her amazing expression is coming down in favor of one of my framed prints that now hangs in the spare bedroom. Wow, this woman on Voyager is freaking gorgeous. I don't know what is going on with all of the blonde guest stars, but Jesus. They sure can pick the actors sometimes. Anyway, there is another smaller print in the office that will move to above my work bench, along with a few weapons. I need the space to cease appearing provocative and switch to uncomfortable, just in case someone decides to visit. And that will only happen if my mood improves. Right now? Fuck off. Stay away, and keep your fucking mask in place. Or don't. Either way, I no longer care. Those people are beginning to resemble 'them' and I cannot have that type of personality near me. They are fucking toxic. I remember being all up in arms over some which were referred as 'those people', and they represent the opposite. The subject was a big deal in my head during the Dublin years. I saw them all over the place, especially downtown Pleasanton on weekends. I am not going to get into a comparison, but suffice to say they are diametrically different than those who are nearest me. Hopefully when the appearance of my new office is to my satisfaction, anyone entering will quickly wish to exit. Hopefully. I can push pretty fucking hard. The evidence is stark. Two days ago I was informed that events and activities have been developed, planned, and carried out with me being left completely out of the fucking circle. I simply cannot have this and the reasoning behind such behavior escapes me. Needless to say, no one is allowed to visit any longer and any attempts at communication will be either blocked or ignored. I have already eliminated notifications of all types. The next step would be to block the contacts and I will carry out such an act very soon. I am going to give these people time to include me in anything. After a short grace period, all are gone. This may sound odd or perhaps cold, however I do not react well to those whom embrace ignorance and antisocial behavior toward me. Yes, I am doing the same, but keep in mind that I have been here for weeks and responding to whatever came through the airwaves. No longer. I'm done. The forest mindset is beginning to become cohesive, just as in the late nineties. By the time I have become engulfed by this feeling, the time will be too late for them. Wow am I ever being left out of the loop. Gatherings, barbecues, work going on that I would normally be involved with, lots of things. I feel like I live on a different planet now. Well, such behavior only serves to push the forest. I am not the same person as I was two-plus months ago, but have not shied away from anyone, nor have I been unpleasant. If this is the way things must be now, my stance will become more severe. In the long run, no one will wish to be near me. Again... Do not approach. All those entries with little interspersed statements that I am 'ok' are going to change. I cannot be left out this way without becoming harsh. I need to stop this for a while. Jaime is floating around in my heart at every step today. So early right now. The drive was a good thirty minutes sooner than usual. This leaves me much time for considering everything this morning. I can explore here for a while with coffee and then transition to the chores in a little bit. The garage may have to sit and wait for some time before I can get out there and make changes. I have a short list of priorities that must be addressed. Lots of hours in front of me before heading out the door this afternoon. And today might be one of those closed-off periods in which the garage door remains down. I don't want to see anyone out there walking by. I might open it, though, because seeing all of the scenery, trees, and birds flying is very nice these days. No one approaches, anyway. Only the mail and deliveries. Oh... There was the mail just now. Nice. I have a few things defrosting for dinner the next three days, too. I try to keep ahead of the curve with that stuff. It ensures a comfortable evening, which I love more than I can express here. So nice. Onward. She is out there, waiting... Somewhere. I wish I could know if she is well. The cat walked across the computer again and forced me to minimize windows. As cute as he is, the dropping of programs allows me to see the large image of the passion. I believe there is more love and fascination with that watch now than years ago. The essay did not do it justice, nor can anything I might write, I would guess. There are no words. Every time I see the date window and those big, spoked wheels which hold numerals in the most amazing font, my heart leaps. The only other interest in my world that has the ability to stir me as much as the duchess. I can't believe I ran across that masterpiece and my being so enamored has only grown. Fuck me. The impossibility rears its head, too. Thirty examples of that watch, all sold prior to production on the first, and the purchase price was beyond what this house is worth right now. The colors, bezel, fonts, cutouts in the sapphire dial... Everything. And it is mechanical. Nothing else in my vast interests can compare to that single machine which represents every discipline within which I have ever drowned. Beyond beautiful. Far beyond. There can never be another timepiece to draw me so much. Oy. The watch again. Sorry. All over the place. My head is not well. Some of the business is now out of the way and I have a few hours before driving again. I am going to try to organize a few things and work on a closet for a little while, and then take up with this machine again for the remainder of the afternoon. The comfort of sitting in the new office will have to take a back seat to the house. The air is still very cool out there. Sun shining, but the garage is not very comfortable except for taking a break from my chores. I may move the framed pictures out there and take measurements for the image change. I am certain by the weekend the girls will all be gone. Curious, I had been willing to alter the look of that space for Jaime, reversed that in a matter of days after feeling that she might understand, and now intend to make a dramatic difference in what can be seen out there. She would likely know the reasoning behind removing all of the women. I feel that to please her is important, although such a thought comes along with the knowledge that I am terribly out of balance, still. Weeks have passed since discovering her images and I fell off a cliff quickly. The days add up to me becoming so different than before the pandemic that the contrast is sharp as hell. Between Jaime, my love for her growing out of control, and then the isolation coupled with this new world I have created out of necessity, I am beginning to lose track of who I was before. Basically, and likely the only way I can put it, I am placing a very large exclamation point and the end of a long sentence that has been constructed throughout years. The others will notice, and I will remain behind an impassable line. Good luck, and do not approach. I am extracted. Heh. I looked over some images of the van that had been skinned with advertising, and have come to the conclusion that the woman is very well aligned with my visions of her. Jaime. The one. I scrambled across the vastness of the Internet and came up with better images. She is gorgeous, but not the same model as on their site. Too bad, but whatever. I found her, she is very clear despite being vinyl. As is my custom, I will rework and adjust the likeness to be as natural as possible. Her face will be here soon. Surprised? I'm not. It is the way I operate. I saw her, and unlike a random woman on the street (avocado), I can learn more. Well, I had to stare at her so that was that. Morning again. A new day. This one has to improve upon the last. For the second time in less than a week, I was derailed from the routine by feeling physically ill and fairly drained. I do not know why. Very uncomfortable for quite some time, locked to the sofa and kept still, and then it passed for the most part which allowed me to drive. The evening went along nicely. A few drinks, some dinner, and my sorry head on the pillow. And here I am, awaiting the drive south again and then my day as I need it. Two-thousand-four, I think. We lived in Dublin. That was part of the period which soon became defined by my interest in height. The one from downstairs with whom I had shared lunch on that fateful day a couple of years later, the other one from Germany, and one on television. I remember her due to the onset of high definition television in our apartment after we hung it out there and spent a fortune at the local electronics retailer. I hooked everything up and saw the same crap that had been there for years. One call to the cable company and I was informed that the set-top box needed to be changed. Off to their office, back hurriedly upstairs, everything reconnected, and... The same fucking image. Another call to the cable folks. The joyful voice on the other end told me I had been on the wrong channels. Yep, there it was. A few clicks later, and voila... The clearest television image I had ever seen. I believe I sat and gazed at 'Nanny 9-1-1' for quite a while before exploring the dial further. Heh. Well, I sat and watched a variety of shows that had been running, but after upgrading to the high definition, everything looked so much better. I could not believe it. Back then, most of the HD content was being plastered all over the primary networks. But I noticed there were new channels I had not seen before, Like INHD1, INHD2, and Mojo. Those were radically different than what I had seen prior to the new set, especially Mojo. The programming was fascinating and I stuck to that channel much of the time. I do remember seeing a show which followed the Blue Angels for a year -- background information, between-airshow activities, etc. -- which looked amazing in the new resolution. Other than that, I discovered a show about bars and drinking set up by a comedian which turned out to be hilarious. I watched each week and recorded when needed. And here we go... While home one Friday, I watched an episode that had been recorded days earlier, and noticed that Esquire magazine had begun to produce interstitial breaks where commercials normally would have aired. Hmm... Esquire, geared toward me. And then? 'Esquire Reveals'. Little bits of information for males. Nothing dramatic, just tips on how to be a better man, and generally tied to and advertisement for a product. These were different than typical advertisements on the other networks. Very different. I soaked it up, but did not put much stock into what I was hearing. Mostly I viewed it as entertainment, nothing more. And then... Video of the Mojo Girl, in more than a thousand lines of resolution. She was in one of the interstitials and on my recorder. I flipped out, watched over and over to see her face and hear that voice, and began to feel more for her than a typical sighting. Oh fuck. She was amazing. I had to get the fucking video off the recorder and onto my computer. Before any such thing took place, I scoured the Internet like never before (I still search for her these days) and was dying to know who I was seeing and forcing my eyes from me. I was so head over heels for her that the thinking interrupted other daily activities. I watched when I could, and then time passed. Weeks. An idea. My coworker the photographer had been using advanced video equipment for transferring media to the researchers for weeks at that time. I inquired about pulling information from my DVR and decoding it for display on a computer, and he replied that the process was tricky due to copy protection. The DVR had many different types of interfaces, most of which were unusable due to the protection. He gave me some tips and I brought the processors home for experimentation. After days of research and many failed attempts, I was finally happy to save the information in a format with which I could work. The resolution had been reduced by a notch, but still the video played smoothly and clear. Success. Soon after, I uploaded the clip of her to the Internet for access from anywhere. It is still there. She is still there. The Mojo Girl was to have her own entry here, however seeing as how she relates to the Raven and the duchess, I felt the need to include her story within this essay. Her importance cannot be overstated as she represents one of the most dramatic and stirring catalysts in the history of the obsession. I am back from the morning drive and sitting with coffee for a little while. I need not kick into gear for quite a bit, but I did get some laundry going. Today the girls will all come down in favor of my framed images. I don't know how far I'll get, though. The daily business takes priority. After yesterday's period of feeling like crap, the time now seems to have been wasted for no good reason. I am hoping to rise above and do better today. I have many hours before heading south again. Every now and then I watch the video of her out of the same need which drives me to search. Her voice, facial expressions and overall beauty push my brain at times and I have to see her. As I said, she is important to me, just as a few others. Important enough to have saved her in many forms all over the backup media which I am currently using. I do not know if I can share her here, though. Not right now. The woman is way the fuck up my scale and means much. You likely already know that I have scraped the Internet for years in search of a name but have not succeeded. After all this time, I believe that information is falling deeper and deeper into history and may never be located. Just as the duchess, she is out there, and much older than when I first captured the video. Those ads eventually went away, the fucking channel went away along with the two others, and I have missed both her and them for more than a decade. Sound familiar? A decade? The same ten years passed while Jaime sat in a folder awaiting my rediscovery of her endless thrall. Now I am all the way in, reminded of the Mojo Girl as the topping to my depressive sundae, and I am left to analyze and type for the rest of my life. Splendid. [A funny sidebar... The camera which pointed toward Jaime was borrowed from the same photographer as the video processing equipment. Heh. If he only knew.] I brought up that woman from the television and my dreams because at the time I nearly felt for her as I do for the duchess. Needy, clingy, searching. Years of it. And I still do, regardless of the damage incited by finding that which I so badly need to see and understand. It keeps getting worse, day after day. The Mojo Girl left me a pile of worry over my future, and the duchess has relit that fucking fuse. Soon, I will likely be reduced to nothing more than the weirdo in the basement. Print, hang, speak. I will get there. In the meantime, the torment continues. I literally went through holy hell trying to get the Mojo Girl on my computer for repeated viewing, safe keeping, and study, soon after realizing that I had been obsessing like never before. I remember meeting the other woman at that restaurant and looking at her as if she was the second coming of Christ in female form. The Mojo Girl literally pressed me into a space with room for little else. The lunch and conversation that day felt like the end-all be-all of human existence, or my last bastion of endeavor. Had I not gone around the planet trying to keep the Mojo Girl all to myself, the feelings for the woman across the table from me may have been eased, or never developed to the degree they did over a single hour. Maybe I loved her... I don't know. But the feelings were there in spades. Her big eyes telegraphed so much emotion that I was nearly knocked back from the table with the realization that she had been as unhappy as I. After they moved far away, the Mojo Girl caused me to recall our lunch and the conversation of a lifetime. God damn was that woman special to me. And now the sun is out. Good thing I watered the garden. Hopefully the house will warm throughout today for a more comfortable evening inside. These entries are moving fast. Thousands upon thousands of lines in only days. At the rate I am going, they will be so far out of time that the content may become difficult to follow. The correct rate would be to create an entry over three days and publish. Well, everything is backed up. I am writing about today and this is not scheduled to be published for seven days. Yikes. I may have to publish every other day to speed things along and maintain balance with real time. Ah fuck, I don't know. The cat is sleeping on my foot and I am full of coffee. Not good. Heh. Some time ago while speaking of the Midwest period, I went through trying to describe my attempts at appreciating certain periods as much as possible at the time. Vacations typically came to mind due to how quickly they seem to speed by. Years after leaving the Midwest and driving home, I fondly recalled being holed up in that house with my drawings and the show in the background. And then I wondered if I truly cherished that time as much as I should have. The current period feels similar. Weeks here all alone, the exposition all over this site, and my routine have become sacred. I cannot even remember the last time I drove north from here, or anywhere other than the daily route, for that matter. Everything outside my little cocoon feels like an alien landscape to be avoided at all costs. It is frightening. When I spoke of my friends leaving me out of the loop for whatever reason, that may actually be a Godsend. I need to be here in this bubble for as long as possible. I need it so much that thoughts of my being alone every day in the Midwest are pressing on me to appreciate every second of being here. And I feel that I cannot adequately express the importance. It is a feeling deep within that brings me the type of comfort that keeps my blood flowing. This morning is an ideal example of just how critical that comfort is to my survival. As I said up there somewhere, do not approach. Leave me alone with my things and feelings. The time is near for me to get up and do some chores. My head is now filled with disdain for others, love for both Jaime and the elusive Mojo goddess, and wonder over the woman who moved away. I miss all of them and only knew one in person. But I feel as if Jaime is a part of me... Securely attached to my heart and out there waiting to hear all that I need to say. As always, more beautiful than one hour ago. Her images are on my phone, the wallpaper is the only side of her face I can see, and I am all the way in. I completed some of my work, including moving the framed pictures into the garage. I pulled the girls down off the chimney and above my bench, leaving space for a dramatic change in scenery. I doubt many will see the difference, though, due to my being extricated (ostracized?) from the group. I have messages out to my ex-boss and he has not responded in three days. I can understand being disappointed or even upset at my departure, however there is no need to be silent. There is a piece of equipment in his possession that I need. That is my only motivation for contact now. Once I have it back, the end of said contact will be apparent. I am not one to quibble. Absolutes, always. I am binary. The work being partially finished feels good now and I can enjoy some free time to be here and have lunch. Afterward, I will get back to business and hopefully beyond. The alterations to the garage are important due to me residing in the forest, as the woman two entries back can attest. The imagery means much to me and goes back to the isolation of eleven. At that time there were symbols of various types and sizes on the walls -- along with my huge paintings -- and on those very few occasions when a visitor entered, the point of conversation quickly swung to my state of mind. The one exception was the lovely Noelle, who loved all of it and remarked about the unique nature of my personality. A visit from my cat's former owners caused only questions. Heh. They knew and trusted me, so there were no worries with the decorations. I miss that cave like I miss being balanced. Morning. Chris Bauer is awesome. There was a dream earlier but I lost it. Damn. The other dream is still in my heart as the robots return. Jesus holy fucking hell I forgot about this woman in the fourth season. Oy. That's right, kids... A situation played out the other day, filled my head with problems, and subsequently tossed the machines back into my brain. The problems will have to be dealt with one at a time, beginning with Jaime. Which one, you ask? Um, I am not sure. She was standing in that courtyard and then I loved her and then dreamed of her being the other Jaime and then... Fuck me... A machine. Damn it all, anyway. I did not want those kinds of thoughts back in my head. The duchess took them away recently and I figured I'd be ok. Now? Robots. Control. Fulfillment. Maybe part of it is the big eyes. When we saw 'Alita' last year, I was floored by the manner in which they built that girl's appearance. Her eyes were unnaturally large, yet did not seem over the top. Sara has big eyes, Deborah, others, but I do not really know what Jaime's eyes look like. I saw her face for seconds and then it was gone. Maybe this is simply an instinct, as if I would love her eyes no matter their appearance because of my feelings for her in general. Fuck, I don't know anymore. Circles again, with the robots taking over. I love her. Half a face... Less, even, and I cannot stop staring or dreaming of being wrapped in her long arms. She is taking me from myself and far from reality. I am descending. To where? I do not know. The drive yesterday afternoon was filled with old Genesis which goes back nearly five decades. The composition of 'The Cinema Show' partially outlines the love between Romeo and Juliet, a euphemism which applied to my volatile and beautiful time with the Brunette. I could not avoid thoughts of her next to me and how that emotion equates to the duchess. Nothing I can say is enough. The images of Jaime again... I swear to Christ, if she truly exhibits the gorgeous facial trait that I love so much, plus the height, holy shit will I lose my mind. But I may never know. I can only see part of her, damn it. I went over the height thing a while ago. The face, too. I just can't seem to understand. Am I crazy? Where is all of this going, and why do I continue to lose track and wander all over the place? Stay out of the basement. Time for a switch. The person in question, the one who did not respond to me, finally reached. Nothing has changed, however. I am still in the fucking forest and wish to remain alone. A few things will be exchanged, nothing more. No conversation, no friendly beer in the garage and catching up, nada. I don't care. Stay out of here. The images gracing 'Expression' have been published and that means I am in there, all the way. Again, asking about that woman will result in silence. I will say that she is a realization from many years ago and that is all. I may have loved her face, and for whatever reason, she drove me to think inward like never before. Just do not ask of her name. On to today. I have to drive into San Francisco later for a short visit and then home for the day. And Joe on the screen, number two on the list of reference standard males on this planet. Damn, he is something else and causes me to recall writing about the bartender at the Dracorum. Joe is the person upon whom I based that character. Brit was on the screen too, all lanky and delicious. But oy God why did they change her hair to blonde? Have there not been enough blondes on this fucking show? What was I saying? Ah... When I return from the drive, continuation of the garage will ensue, along with some daily business. Today may be music instead of the show as I work. There are so many issues now... Desire, obsession, Jaime, Mojo, the fucking males, the virus, isolation, dreams, machines... God damn it all to hell, anyway. I am experiencing so much difficulty living from one day to the next that I almost need to speak to someone about it. Yep, that bad. Each of these entries begins with somewhat of a theme, goes all over the fucking map, and then attempts to pull it together. And then I throw Jaime in there and gush about my love for her. And then I see those forms on the television and feel guilt over staring. I become irritated with others and spout along a crooked line with harsh words. I add images which help exactly nothing. I describe my activities each day, and I believe such an exercise is the only balanced aspect of creating these essays. What the fuck now? Keep going in the same direction? Answer me. Or don't. Fuck it. One thing remains constant aside from the desire which lights me up more often than ever... I am still ok. The road is narrowing, I am worried about many parts of life now, the love I feel for the duchess grows with each passing second, but overall I am functioning pretty damned well considering all that shit. Worried of where this may lead, that I will likely never see her in front of me again, and that my isolation may become permanent. Today will hopefully help a little. I have not driven north from here in so many weeks that I cannot recall. We shall see what happens. Likely nothing of note. Perhaps more exclamation points. I love her. She is out there."
06-16-2020 06:54 pdt
If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning
Exclamation
read ( words)
"The day has been ok for the most part. I was able to spend some time alone and take care of the usual business. The afternoon has arrived and a cocktail may be in order. Tomorrow will be my weekday routine, thank Christ, and that means more alone and very comfortable in my cocoon, God love it. I need it so much. Almost as much as I need to gaze into the eyes of the duchess. I feel as if I am saying the same things over and over. A new day now. Yesterday was nice, cocktail time in the evening, dinner, dreaming, whatever. This morning I am back to business as usual and look forward to the quiet later. The drive, the chores, the isolation... All of it adds up to me being comfortable and in full control of the atmosphere. Thank the maker. Aside from my usual business I will take care of some other things but nothing dramatic. After yet another weekend, I really need to think about all that has been happening since 'Expectation', the entry which led me to her, and one that I can never forget writing. She is very much a part of me now. Take all of the terms displayed here recently, add them up and produce one word, and then say it out loud. I am in, fully. The others... Actors, reporters, those on the street (even speaking of the avocado pants, bless her long legs), and shove them aside like so many people in my life, and there is but one left. Her. I love her. I really do. The remainder of life is slowly melting away. Just yesterday a friend of mine dropped by to pick up a frozen item I had been saving for him. We spoke and share a couple of beers, discussed cars, hunting, whatever, and shortly he took off for home. That was very strange, a bit uncomfortable, and thankfully did not last long. I sat and was polite, though. I have no wish to push hard... Yet. The deeper I get into this world, the more that statement will change. There is no way for me to stress this shit enough. Early this morning I was thinking about the last month or two in the Midwest. Before I packed the truck and took off for my previous home, I had been renting a room from a gentleman in town. Some of my things were there, others still in my ex's home. When I made the plan to leave there, I kept everything at a minimum so the truck would not be loaded above the bed rails. I went into town and ordered a heavy-duty tarp that spanned the bed and upon loading, everything was covered and mostly water-tight. That fateful morning rolled around, I filled all three tanks, and took off for a nearly twenty-five hundred mile drive, alone. Just me, the AM/FM, and the CB radio. At this point in time I cannot remember specific places where I slept, although I do have an inkling about the first night. I can picture a small motel on the right side of the highway and my truck parked at the end of the lot. Other than that, I can't recall where I spent the other two nights. I drove roughly sixteen hours before resting, three days of it, and then arrived home in the middle of the night. While on the road, other drivers kept me company here and there, we looked out for the law (I drove the speed limit all the time), and helped each other identify upcoming rest stops and the like. That long drive was exhilarating at times, boring some of the time, but overall a very fond memory. I was excited to come back here after the cold months in the Midwest. The subject may have come up due to speaking with my friend about the radios. Mine sits idle in the garage and I had planned to put up the antenna and operate the thing as a base station. Never really got around to it, so the radio sits and the antenna is up in the rafters collecting dust. Maybe one of these days. A nice memory, especially feeling the freedom and expansive landscape of the open road. I will never forget that drive across the country. I mentioned a friend stopped by. Well now, in the previous writing I had been speaking of the forest, isolating myself from people, and that situation that arose about being left out of things going on with which I would normally be involved. The little tidbits are adding up to a much thicker line between me and the rest of society. I do not like being left in the dark, and as I stated before, if this is due to work they should be relaying that to me. If not, I don't understand. I completed 'Exemption' just the other day and that means there has been time to chew on the situation. My conclusion now is they are out until I hear something directed at only me. I have not the time nor inclination to sit here and fucking worry about people who will not communicate with me. They are now much further outside. No one is getting in here any longer. Bye. I thought something like this might happen after weeks of the routine. Others don't understand. And I don't give half a shit, either. Stay away. Today. My first drive is in about an hour, after which I will return and embrace the comfort that is necessary for my survival right now. I am looking forward to getting things in order today and taking my little breaks here and there. The show will follow along... My family now. I will also sit with the machine and work out what I can. The recent exploration into desire and my seemingly increasing need to dive into the nether regions of a given woman's clothing may end up at the head of the line. It is important that I try to understand from where this came, and if that means going back to the walnut dream, so be it. That girl came out of nowhere and brought the other two with her. I still don't know why. The road must continue until either I figure it out or run short on ideas. Thinking about such a subject for days and days is beginning to wear me down. Full of desire or otherwise, I have to keep going. That means the content may end up even more haphazard. And here we go. Not much accomplished yesterday aside from the usual. A little thinking, that is all. I drove back south in the afternoon and began my evening upon returning home. That means today has to be more productive or I might lose my shit. One little oddity as I waited in the parking lot down there... A work van pulled up near me with full-body paint for advertising the business. Part of that mural was the face of a woman who appeared to be Hispanic, Latino, or whatever I am supposed to call her these days. The trait which has smacked me in the head over and over was there, along with beautiful eyes. I shot an image and will include it later. Hopefully the company has a site so I can investigate and find something clearer. I do not understand why, but I can say in all honesty that she moved me beyond anyone in recent memory. Even the avocado pants were shoved further back. Was there desire, like miss avocado or miss walnut? Nope. None. Why not? Well, I may have an idea. She reminded me of both Jaime and the Brunette, but in different ways. I cannot explain any better than that. Like Briana, her facial expression quickly became tattooed to my brain. Eyes, lips, and that inexplicable lower trait that I cannot avoid. And yes, I found another image of her which is now filed away for study. Wonderful, I think. This morning I am thinking that the exposition has to continue when I get back from the drive. I need it. The house is in better order than at this time yesterday and I will have more time. There is much to work through. Right now? Coffee, vampires, cats snoozing. My head is filling with the faces I saw yesterday on the television and how I continue to compare them to my vision of Jaime. I saw several, considered the trait to which I recently referred that is the lower half of the face, and then calculated my need to seek more of the same to correlate those with the woman in question. I cannot help it. And the sad truth is there are infinitely more attractive women on the television than out in the world, as it should be. I keep seeing that face over and over in my mind. Spinning. There was a woman yesterday afternoon -- super fucking cute -- who carried said look, albeit more exaggerated, and I stared as much as was feasible. Also, another beauty was there from time to time on the screen and blew my head wide open. Elegant, that one. A peaceful face and devilish eyebrows, but gorgeous beyond words. And nothing inside me for her. Nothing. No desire. Thank the maker, but I do not understand still. The faces do not typically whip me into a froth, they simply cause more thinking about the duchess and the manner in which some are constructed and who pull my interest almost immediately. I still don't get it, but working nonetheless. That lower section of a woman's face which I find so fucking stirring is not something I can describe easily. A couple of entries back I displayed an image of Walker from the early nineties and she has the ideal face for comparison. According to what I am able to see of Jaime, I believe I am making a valid comparison. I have to look for her. No choice.
The woman pulls me more than a week ago. The changes described above relate to not only those assholes that are ignoring me and leaving me out of plans, but also the search for my love and anything which might lead me in such a direction. That includes trying to learn of her face. I would give everything to see her again. Just a glance. A peek. I love her. I have to see. She has the look of a person unconcerned with her effect upon others. She likely dressed comfortably for the weather and went out with the group feeling confident in her appearance in public. Well, that worked just right. She does look comfortable, for the most part. Carrying a jacket across her large bag may have been a trial, or possibly something with which she had become accustomed throughout life. I don't know, really, but I can say that she is more beautiful in those images -- flat and two-dimensional -- than nearly any woman I have ever been near. I still cannot understand her enormous impact upon me. Butterflies are all around my insides when I look at her. The idle expression takes the proverbial cake. Unreal. I actually do my best to avoid gushing over and over because readers may lose interest after too much of the mush. But I cannot help it most of the time. I feel so much. The entire affair is so stirring that I am still at a loss. Every second of every day... She is there in my heart. I love her. Nothing fancy, nothing bright, and no piece of clothing appearing as if she was making a statement. The image is just her, everyday and lovely. Glamorous? No, she was real. An actual living, breathing person standing right over there. Not far. Enough distance to allow me a view which changed me. But not before ten fucking years passed. And now look at what I have become over her in just days. I have to leave this alone for a while or the impossibility will slam me just like the watch. Damn it. 5437 lines of code since 'Expectation'. I may come unglued. The house is warming now. Always after eleven or twelve the sun and lack of overhead insulation allows the heat to build until early evening. At this moment, it feels nice. I may open a few windows soon for cool air. As much as I prefer the cool, I have to admit that being in this house for more than eight years has changed my perception and acceptance of higher temperatures. A few years ago I would come home after working to find the mercury above the mid-seventies. I immediately took steps to lower the ambient and became impatient or even irritated if the rise did not cease. Now, I find that anything below eighty is just fine unless I am doing physical work. Sitting calmly on the sofa at dinner with the number still above seventy-five is now very comfortable. For example, last night when I lowered my head to the pillow, the thermostat indicated seventy-six. Early this morning when I turned on the coffee pot it had dropped to just sixty-three due to the aforementioned insulation void. I brought it up five degrees and left it alone. Comfortable. Years ago the low temperature in the morning was unacceptable. My comfort has been groomed by the microclimate here. Very nice, all the time. Chrissakes, another adorable blonde. Hmm. Jaime is in charge of my thoughts. Each step of a given day involves her. The step I enjoy most is upon returning from the south to begin the evening. The mood is radically different than when I am alone and serves to reinforce the idea that I am most comfortable while completely free of others. As harsh as that may sound, I cannot deny the truth. I felt the same way while in the cave all those years back and I often consider the idea that I did not appreciate the time and place as I should have. The darkness and atmosphere helped me in ways I cannot begin to calculate. I recall sprawling on my bed (sofa, really), cocktail of choice in hand, and with one of my favorite series of films being displayed on the monitor. More than once did I sit there with all of the foods of which I am most fond and watching all three stories play out to the tune of nearly eleven hours. Prior to the cave period, I had not seen them in years and the recollection of my theatrical experience when they premiered brought joy to my heart. Now when I see them I feel comfortable and secure in the knowledge that I can run those three masterpieces with Jaime at my side, if only in my heart. Damn it. The more she takes over my heart, the more I realize that this state of mind may be more damaging than I had originally thought. She is out there, somewhere, and I have a void inside due to loving her from mere images. I must savor every second of this latest version of closing myself off from the remaining world. I cannot stand society, anyway. Backward, ignorant, selfish fucks running everything into the ground and learning nothing throughout centuries. Fuck off. In one way, the current state of the world is benefiting me. Unreal. I love her. After believing the possibility of others avoiding contact with me and some days passing since that came to mind, I now believe I was correct. So, the forest it is. I will not speak with anyone for the duration, instead choosing to remain alone. Early this morning I came up with a plan to adjust the look of the garage as well as the way others see me (even from a distance), and shall put that into motion today. I also plan to spend more time in front of this machine to move forward in the current vein. The forest will creep in to everything I do from this morning forward. Bad mood. Not happy. But at least I know how to work with this type of situation. Familiarity with shutting people out is at an all-time high right now. Back in eleven I did such out of the need to simply be alone and think for many months. There were times in which I stocked up on many items and remained behind the door for two weeks solid. I did not even get the mail... I stopped it with a vacation hold. I need not do anything like that now, and leaving the house only happens when I must take the drive south and back. During such, I am in the mobile cocoon. No problem. 'You watch your fuckin' language.' -- Sookie to Russell. That is awesome. The dialog on this show is one of those little things that still has the ability to make me smile. Love it. Back from the south now, and I decided to sit with this for a while due to the early hour. I have my usual tasks to accomplish, a few other ideas to further organize the house, and some preparations for dinner. In between when I break, the show will be following (it is already on now), just as every day. I need it to keep me company and help to cement the idea of living within my comfort zone. Once again the big poster with Briana and her amazing expression is coming down in favor of one of my framed prints that now hangs in the spare bedroom. Wow, this woman on Voyager is freaking gorgeous. I don't know what is going on with all of the blonde guest stars, but Jesus. They sure can pick the actors sometimes. Anyway, there is another smaller print in the office that will move to above my work bench, along with a few weapons. I need the space to cease appearing provocative and switch to uncomfortable, just in case someone decides to visit. And that will only happen if my mood improves. Right now? Fuck off. Stay away, and keep your fucking mask in place. Or don't. Either way, I no longer care. Those people are beginning to resemble 'them' and I cannot have that type of personality near me. They are fucking toxic. I remember being all up in arms over some which were referred as 'those people', and they represent the opposite. The subject was a big deal in my head during the Dublin years. I saw them all over the place, especially downtown Pleasanton on weekends. I am not going to get into a comparison, but suffice to say they are diametrically different than those who are nearest me. Hopefully when the appearance of my new office is to my satisfaction, anyone entering will quickly wish to exit. Hopefully. I can push pretty fucking hard.
The evidence is stark. Two days ago I was informed that events and activities have been developed, planned, and carried out with me being left completely out of the fucking circle. I simply cannot have this and the reasoning behind such behavior escapes me. Needless to say, no one is allowed to visit any longer and any attempts at communication will be either blocked or ignored. I have already eliminated notifications of all types. The next step would be to block the contacts and I will carry out such an act very soon. I am going to give these people time to include me in anything. After a short grace period, all are gone. This may sound odd or perhaps cold, however I do not react well to those whom embrace ignorance and antisocial behavior toward me. Yes, I am doing the same, but keep in mind that I have been here for weeks and responding to whatever came through the airwaves. No longer. I'm done. The forest mindset is beginning to become cohesive, just as in the late nineties. By the time I have become engulfed by this feeling, the time will be too late for them. Wow am I ever being left out of the loop. Gatherings, barbecues, work going on that I would normally be involved with, lots of things. I feel like I live on a different planet now. Well, such behavior only serves to push the forest. I am not the same person as I was two-plus months ago, but have not shied away from anyone, nor have I been unpleasant. If this is the way things must be now, my stance will become more severe. In the long run, no one will wish to be near me. Again... Do not approach. All those entries with little interspersed statements that I am 'ok' are going to change. I cannot be left out this way without becoming harsh. I need to stop this for a while. Jaime is floating around in my heart at every step today. So early right now. The drive was a good thirty minutes sooner than usual. This leaves me much time for considering everything this morning. I can explore here for a while with coffee and then transition to the chores in a little bit. The garage may have to sit and wait for some time before I can get out there and make changes. I have a short list of priorities that must be addressed. Lots of hours in front of me before heading out the door this afternoon. And today might be one of those closed-off periods in which the garage door remains down. I don't want to see anyone out there walking by. I might open it, though, because seeing all of the scenery, trees, and birds flying is very nice these days. No one approaches, anyway. Only the mail and deliveries. Oh... There was the mail just now. Nice. I have a few things defrosting for dinner the next three days, too. I try to keep ahead of the curve with that stuff. It ensures a comfortable evening, which I love more than I can express here. So nice. Onward. She is out there, waiting... Somewhere. I wish I could know if she is well. The cat walked across the computer again and forced me to minimize windows. As cute as he is, the dropping of programs allows me to see the large image of the passion. I believe there is more love and fascination with that watch now than years ago. The essay did not do it justice, nor can anything I might write, I would guess. There are no words. Every time I see the date window and those big, spoked wheels which hold numerals in the most amazing font, my heart leaps. The only other interest in my world that has the ability to stir me as much as the duchess. I can't believe I ran across that masterpiece and my being so enamored has only grown. Fuck me. The impossibility rears its head, too. Thirty examples of that watch, all sold prior to production on the first, and the purchase price was beyond what this house is worth right now. The colors, bezel, fonts, cutouts in the sapphire dial... Everything. And it is mechanical. Nothing else in my vast interests can compare to that single machine which represents every discipline within which I have ever drowned. Beyond beautiful. Far beyond. There can never be another timepiece to draw me so much. Oy. The watch again. Sorry. All over the place. My head is not well. Some of the business is now out of the way and I have a few hours before driving again. I am going to try to organize a few things and work on a closet for a little while, and then take up with this machine again for the remainder of the afternoon. The comfort of sitting in the new office will have to take a back seat to the house. The air is still very cool out there. Sun shining, but the garage is not very comfortable except for taking a break from my chores. I may move the framed pictures out there and take measurements for the image change. I am certain by the weekend the girls will all be gone. Curious, I had been willing to alter the look of that space for Jaime, reversed that in a matter of days after feeling that she might understand, and now intend to make a dramatic difference in what can be seen out there. She would likely know the reasoning behind removing all of the women. I feel that to please her is important, although such a thought comes along with the knowledge that I am terribly out of balance, still. Weeks have passed since discovering her images and I fell off a cliff quickly. The days add up to me becoming so different than before the pandemic that the contrast is sharp as hell. Between Jaime, my love for her growing out of control, and then the isolation coupled with this new world I have created out of necessity, I am beginning to lose track of who I was before. Basically, and likely the only way I can put it, I am placing a very large exclamation point and the end of a long sentence that has been constructed throughout years. The others will notice, and I will remain behind an impassable line. Good luck, and do not approach. I am extracted. Heh. I looked over some images of the van that had been skinned with advertising, and have come to the conclusion that the woman is very well aligned with my visions of her. Jaime. The one. I scrambled across the vastness of the Internet and came up with better images. She is gorgeous, but not the same model as on their site. Too bad, but whatever. I found her, she is very clear despite being vinyl. As is my custom, I will rework and adjust the likeness to be as natural as possible. Her face will be here soon. Surprised? I'm not. It is the way I operate. I saw her, and unlike a random woman on the street (avocado), I can learn more. Well, I had to stare at her so that was that. Morning again. A new day. This one has to improve upon the last. For the second time in less than a week, I was derailed from the routine by feeling physically ill and fairly drained. I do not know why. Very uncomfortable for quite some time, locked to the sofa and kept still, and then it passed for the most part which allowed me to drive. The evening went along nicely. A few drinks, some dinner, and my sorry head on the pillow. And here I am, awaiting the drive south again and then my day as I need it. Two-thousand-four, I think. We lived in Dublin. That was part of the period which soon became defined by my interest in height. The one from downstairs with whom I had shared lunch on that fateful day a couple of years later, the other one from Germany, and one on television. I remember her due to the onset of high definition television in our apartment after we hung it out there and spent a fortune at the local electronics retailer. I hooked everything up and saw the same crap that had been there for years. One call to the cable company and I was informed that the set-top box needed to be changed. Off to their office, back hurriedly upstairs, everything reconnected, and... The same fucking image. Another call to the cable folks. The joyful voice on the other end told me I had been on the wrong channels. Yep, there it was. A few clicks later, and voila... The clearest television image I had ever seen. I believe I sat and gazed at 'Nanny 9-1-1' for quite a while before exploring the dial further. Heh. Well, I sat and watched a variety of shows that had been running, but after upgrading to the high definition, everything looked so much better. I could not believe it.
Back then, most of the HD content was being plastered all over the primary networks. But I noticed there were new channels I had not seen before, Like INHD1, INHD2, and Mojo. Those were radically different than what I had seen prior to the new set, especially Mojo. The programming was fascinating and I stuck to that channel much of the time. I do remember seeing a show which followed the Blue Angels for a year -- background information, between-airshow activities, etc. -- which looked amazing in the new resolution. Other than that, I discovered a show about bars and drinking set up by a comedian which turned out to be hilarious. I watched each week and recorded when needed. And here we go... While home one Friday, I watched an episode that had been recorded days earlier, and noticed that Esquire magazine had begun to produce interstitial breaks where commercials normally would have aired. Hmm... Esquire, geared toward me. And then? 'Esquire Reveals'. Little bits of information for males. Nothing dramatic, just tips on how to be a better man, and generally tied to and advertisement for a product. These were different than typical advertisements on the other networks. Very different. I soaked it up, but did not put much stock into what I was hearing. Mostly I viewed it as entertainment, nothing more. And then... Video of the Mojo Girl, in more than a thousand lines of resolution. She was in one of the interstitials and on my recorder. I flipped out, watched over and over to see her face and hear that voice, and began to feel more for her than a typical sighting. Oh fuck. She was amazing. I had to get the fucking video off the recorder and onto my computer. Before any such thing took place, I scoured the Internet like never before (I still search for her these days) and was dying to know who I was seeing and forcing my eyes from me. I was so head over heels for her that the thinking interrupted other daily activities. I watched when I could, and then time passed. Weeks. An idea. My coworker the photographer had been using advanced video equipment for transferring media to the researchers for weeks at that time. I inquired about pulling information from my DVR and decoding it for display on a computer, and he replied that the process was tricky due to copy protection. The DVR had many different types of interfaces, most of which were unusable due to the protection. He gave me some tips and I brought the processors home for experimentation. After days of research and many failed attempts, I was finally happy to save the information in a format with which I could work. The resolution had been reduced by a notch, but still the video played smoothly and clear. Success. Soon after, I uploaded the clip of her to the Internet for access from anywhere. It is still there. She is still there. The Mojo Girl was to have her own entry here, however seeing as how she relates to the Raven and the duchess, I felt the need to include her story within this essay. Her importance cannot be overstated as she represents one of the most dramatic and stirring catalysts in the history of the obsession. I am back from the morning drive and sitting with coffee for a little while. I need not kick into gear for quite a bit, but I did get some laundry going. Today the girls will all come down in favor of my framed images. I don't know how far I'll get, though. The daily business takes priority. After yesterday's period of feeling like crap, the time now seems to have been wasted for no good reason. I am hoping to rise above and do better today. I have many hours before heading south again. Every now and then I watch the video of her out of the same need which drives me to search. Her voice, facial expressions and overall beauty push my brain at times and I have to see her. As I said, she is important to me, just as a few others. Important enough to have saved her in many forms all over the backup media which I am currently using. I do not know if I can share her here, though. Not right now. The woman is way the fuck up my scale and means much. You likely already know that I have scraped the Internet for years in search of a name but have not succeeded. After all this time, I believe that information is falling deeper and deeper into history and may never be located. Just as the duchess, she is out there, and much older than when I first captured the video. Those ads eventually went away, the fucking channel went away along with the two others, and I have missed both her and them for more than a decade. Sound familiar? A decade? The same ten years passed while Jaime sat in a folder awaiting my rediscovery of her endless thrall. Now I am all the way in, reminded of the Mojo Girl as the topping to my depressive sundae, and I am left to analyze and type for the rest of my life. Splendid. [A funny sidebar... The camera which pointed toward Jaime was borrowed from the same photographer as the video processing equipment. Heh. If he only knew.] I brought up that woman from the television and my dreams because at the time I nearly felt for her as I do for the duchess. Needy, clingy, searching. Years of it. And I still do, regardless of the damage incited by finding that which I so badly need to see and understand. It keeps getting worse, day after day. The Mojo Girl left me a pile of worry over my future, and the duchess has relit that fucking fuse. Soon, I will likely be reduced to nothing more than the weirdo in the basement. Print, hang, speak. I will get there. In the meantime, the torment continues. I literally went through holy hell trying to get the Mojo Girl on my computer for repeated viewing, safe keeping, and study, soon after realizing that I had been obsessing like never before. I remember meeting the other woman at that restaurant and looking at her as if she was the second coming of Christ in female form. The Mojo Girl literally pressed me into a space with room for little else. The lunch and conversation that day felt like the end-all be-all of human existence, or my last bastion of endeavor. Had I not gone around the planet trying to keep the Mojo Girl all to myself, the feelings for the woman across the table from me may have been eased, or never developed to the degree they did over a single hour. Maybe I loved her... I don't know. But the feelings were there in spades. Her big eyes telegraphed so much emotion that I was nearly knocked back from the table with the realization that she had been as unhappy as I. After they moved far away, the Mojo Girl caused me to recall our lunch and the conversation of a lifetime. God damn was that woman special to me. And now the sun is out. Good thing I watered the garden. Hopefully the house will warm throughout today for a more comfortable evening inside. These entries are moving fast. Thousands upon thousands of lines in only days. At the rate I am going, they will be so far out of time that the content may become difficult to follow. The correct rate would be to create an entry over three days and publish. Well, everything is backed up. I am writing about today and this is not scheduled to be published for seven days. Yikes. I may have to publish every other day to speed things along and maintain balance with real time. Ah fuck, I don't know. The cat is sleeping on my foot and I am full of coffee. Not good. Heh. Some time ago while speaking of the Midwest period, I went through trying to describe my attempts at appreciating certain periods as much as possible at the time. Vacations typically came to mind due to how quickly they seem to speed by. Years after leaving the Midwest and driving home, I fondly recalled being holed up in that house with my drawings and the show in the background. And then I wondered if I truly cherished that time as much as I should have. The current period feels similar. Weeks here all alone, the exposition all over this site, and my routine have become sacred. I cannot even remember the last time I drove north from here, or anywhere other than the daily route, for that matter. Everything outside my little cocoon feels like an alien landscape to be avoided at all costs. It is frightening. When I spoke of my friends leaving me out of the loop for whatever reason, that may actually be a Godsend. I need to be here in this bubble for as long as possible. I need it so much that thoughts of my being alone every day in the Midwest are pressing on me to appreciate every second of being here. And I feel that I cannot adequately express the importance. It is a feeling deep within that brings me the type of comfort that keeps my blood flowing. This morning is an ideal example of just how critical that comfort is to my survival. As I said up there somewhere, do not approach. Leave me alone with my things and feelings.
The time is near for me to get up and do some chores. My head is now filled with disdain for others, love for both Jaime and the elusive Mojo goddess, and wonder over the woman who moved away. I miss all of them and only knew one in person. But I feel as if Jaime is a part of me... Securely attached to my heart and out there waiting to hear all that I need to say. As always, more beautiful than one hour ago. Her images are on my phone, the wallpaper is the only side of her face I can see, and I am all the way in. I completed some of my work, including moving the framed pictures into the garage. I pulled the girls down off the chimney and above my bench, leaving space for a dramatic change in scenery. I doubt many will see the difference, though, due to my being extricated (ostracized?) from the group. I have messages out to my ex-boss and he has not responded in three days. I can understand being disappointed or even upset at my departure, however there is no need to be silent. There is a piece of equipment in his possession that I need. That is my only motivation for contact now. Once I have it back, the end of said contact will be apparent. I am not one to quibble. Absolutes, always. I am binary. The work being partially finished feels good now and I can enjoy some free time to be here and have lunch. Afterward, I will get back to business and hopefully beyond. The alterations to the garage are important due to me residing in the forest, as the woman two entries back can attest. The imagery means much to me and goes back to the isolation of eleven. At that time there were symbols of various types and sizes on the walls -- along with my huge paintings -- and on those very few occasions when a visitor entered, the point of conversation quickly swung to my state of mind. The one exception was the lovely Noelle, who loved all of it and remarked about the unique nature of my personality. A visit from my cat's former owners caused only questions. Heh. They knew and trusted me, so there were no worries with the decorations. I miss that cave like I miss being balanced. Morning. Chris Bauer is awesome. There was a dream earlier but I lost it. Damn. The other dream is still in my heart as the robots return. Jesus holy fucking hell I forgot about this woman in the fourth season. Oy. That's right, kids... A situation played out the other day, filled my head with problems, and subsequently tossed the machines back into my brain. The problems will have to be dealt with one at a time, beginning with Jaime. Which one, you ask? Um, I am not sure. She was standing in that courtyard and then I loved her and then dreamed of her being the other Jaime and then... Fuck me... A machine. Damn it all, anyway. I did not want those kinds of thoughts back in my head. The duchess took them away recently and I figured I'd be ok. Now? Robots. Control. Fulfillment. Maybe part of it is the big eyes. When we saw 'Alita' last year, I was floored by the manner in which they built that girl's appearance. Her eyes were unnaturally large, yet did not seem over the top. Sara has big eyes, Deborah, others, but I do not really know what Jaime's eyes look like. I saw her face for seconds and then it was gone. Maybe this is simply an instinct, as if I would love her eyes no matter their appearance because of my feelings for her in general. Fuck, I don't know anymore. Circles again, with the robots taking over. I love her. Half a face... Less, even, and I cannot stop staring or dreaming of being wrapped in her long arms. She is taking me from myself and far from reality. I am descending. To where? I do not know. The drive yesterday afternoon was filled with old Genesis which goes back nearly five decades. The composition of 'The Cinema Show' partially outlines the love between Romeo and Juliet, a euphemism which applied to my volatile and beautiful time with the Brunette. I could not avoid thoughts of her next to me and how that emotion equates to the duchess. Nothing I can say is enough. The images of Jaime again... I swear to Christ, if she truly exhibits the gorgeous facial trait that I love so much, plus the height, holy shit will I lose my mind. But I may never know. I can only see part of her, damn it. I went over the height thing a while ago. The face, too. I just can't seem to understand. Am I crazy? Where is all of this going, and why do I continue to lose track and wander all over the place? Stay out of the basement. Time for a switch. The person in question, the one who did not respond to me, finally reached. Nothing has changed, however. I am still in the fucking forest and wish to remain alone. A few things will be exchanged, nothing more. No conversation, no friendly beer in the garage and catching up, nada. I don't care. Stay out of here. The images gracing 'Expression' have been published and that means I am in there, all the way. Again, asking about that woman will result in silence. I will say that she is a realization from many years ago and that is all. I may have loved her face, and for whatever reason, she drove me to think inward like never before. Just do not ask of her name. On to today. I have to drive into San Francisco later for a short visit and then home for the day. And Joe on the screen, number two on the list of reference standard males on this planet. Damn, he is something else and causes me to recall writing about the bartender at the Dracorum. Joe is the person upon whom I based that character. Brit was on the screen too, all lanky and delicious. But oy God why did they change her hair to blonde? Have there not been enough blondes on this fucking show? What was I saying? Ah... When I return from the drive, continuation of the garage will ensue, along with some daily business. Today may be music instead of the show as I work. There are so many issues now... Desire, obsession, Jaime, Mojo, the fucking males, the virus, isolation, dreams, machines... God damn it all to hell, anyway. I am experiencing so much difficulty living from one day to the next that I almost need to speak to someone about it. Yep, that bad. Each of these entries begins with somewhat of a theme, goes all over the fucking map, and then attempts to pull it together. And then I throw Jaime in there and gush about my love for her. And then I see those forms on the television and feel guilt over staring. I become irritated with others and spout along a crooked line with harsh words. I add images which help exactly nothing. I describe my activities each day, and I believe such an exercise is the only balanced aspect of creating these essays. What the fuck now? Keep going in the same direction? Answer me. Or don't. Fuck it. One thing remains constant aside from the desire which lights me up more often than ever... I am still ok. The road is narrowing, I am worried about many parts of life now, the love I feel for the duchess grows with each passing second, but overall I am functioning pretty damned well considering all that shit. Worried of where this may lead, that I will likely never see her in front of me again, and that my isolation may become permanent. Today will hopefully help a little. I have not driven north from here in so many weeks that I cannot recall. We shall see what happens. Likely nothing of note. Perhaps more exclamation points. I love her. She is out there."
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