Extraction Mature content No. 127 Published April 30th, 2020 5:45am pdt read ( words) Past entries "I am at a loss. The world has been this way for more than a month now, and while some seem to be doing fine, others are apparently not. The time has come to shut them out. Yes, the threat that I have tossed to the screen for years -- actually since long before I had learned of the Internet at all -- is going to happen. All those years ago my dissatisfaction with the nature of society was pushing me away from other people as I quietly planned a trip north. The ideas of where to go came and went from one week to the next, yet nothing really materialized in the short term. The funny thing is, had I been visiting the mountains regularly as I did a decade later, the idea might have softened a little over time due to the release I had felt whenever we were up there for days at a time. Well, none of that had been available way back, so my thinking was pretty much solo. I do recall working for an auto parts warehouse and filing away little bits of information here and there which might help me to live elsewhere. Books, maps, supplies, and clothing for cold weather were always on my mind while being mired within the machine that was our society. I had a truck which I was hoping to outfit for the long haul, plans for several different destinations, and enough solitude at work to think everything through reasonably well on a daily basis. Years have gone by without me actually considering getting away from everyone. The last time I can remember feeling the need to run away (in a manner other than heading to the goblet to drown into an alcohol and sex-laden fantasy) was right near the turn of the millennium when I was spending much of my time commuting on freeways due to home being quite a distance from my place of work. Most days found me angling to get the fuck out of this metropolitan area and toward open space and less people. I used to daydream about slamming those who knew me by arriving somewhere very far away by the time they woke up in the morning. Like on a work day or something. Well, that never took place, and as much as I needed to get away from those I considered 'sheep', the means were just not there as I spent much of my time focused upon being as comfortable as possible and finding my own brand of isolation right there at home. For the most part, it worked. The idea of dashing away soon faded but never really disappeared completely. It was always there. And only one other occasion took place in recent years. During a very bad time, I actually tossed my 'just in case' bag of stuff into the trunk of my Goddamned commuter car and took off toward the northeast in search of being alone and with the hope of sending a message to those who did not seem to take my needs seriously. Well, it did not last. Upon reaching roughly halfway to the state line, I felt the idea would go bad somehow and returned home. There was a sinking feeling that I did not have the plan or resources to remain away long enough to affect those people that needed a lesson. No one ever knew I had left the house. That is rather funny when you think about it. One hundred miles, a stop to fill the tank, and in the space of a few minutes I realized there could be other ways of sending a message. Back home and organized. I need to get a fourth cat so there is one to refill my coffee while the other three are lying on my feet. In the old days (read: twenty-plus years ago), the idea of a destination had always been somewhere very remote, cold, and with few residents. Considering what I have learned throughout years of listening to people's ideas for vacations and such, I have concluded that most seem to gravitate toward warm, sunny beaches or the like. And then they enjoy the warm sun at home, or would prefer it, anyway. The simple fact is when the climate becomes physically difficult or very uncomfortable, people do not wish to be there. So, all of my ideas were far north of wherever I was living at the time. Lower mean average temperature, lower population. It is a fact of life on this world. My need to avoid others and defy the difficulties inherent in living among the ice pressed down on my shoulders each year when the mercury began to soar and the days lengthened. I was very uncomfortable much of the time. I have considered those occasions and time periods for many weeks now. This year has been very different due to the current health climate which pretty much shut us the hell down just a month ago. Since then, I have learned of my place within a certain circle. Add on something that has been developing within me for the last several years and the conclusion is that I am better off without others in my life. The occasional electronic contact is fine, however. I cannot turn off the connection that helps me to get from one day to the next, I just do not wish to be near other people any longer. The other day I was feeling this way -- although not as deeply -- when the other situation arose and forced me to think about the pool girls, the walnut commercial, and my feelings toward the obsession as it has affected me for years. Well, that is going to have to be placed to the rear right now, along with stories, unless something miraculous takes place soon. I must focus upon fortifying myself in every way conceivable. Yes, right here in this fucking box. This began last night, I slept and arose to make coffee, and the realization became fused to my brain soon after. The feelings for the last few years are now in charge of the manner in which I live my life. Period. Remember all those essays in which I said something was going to happen and wait for 'the word go'? This is 'go'. Right now. Every now and then I will stroll down the driveway with my cocktail and cigarette, but that is all. Andrea stood before me once as I sat on the sofa in the Polynesian wearing only a little orange thong and nothing else and stated in no uncertain terms: 'You will be just fine, my love.' Well, I wish she were here right now to tell me the same because I could use it from her. Those words were not hopeful, nor were they ethereal due to our love for each other. The words she spoke were a directive of the highest order. She meant that I was not allowed to harm myself, and I have not. Andrea loved me unlike anyone else, and our connection still feels fresh. That means it hurts whenever I think of her big heart beating or wherever she may reside after all these years. Well, I am no longer in mind for such weakness. I have carried on this far and will continue to do so regardless of the detritus being spewed by the mass. No one can stop me without serious force or reason beyond my present comprehension. Having said that, I realize that the words go against many other writings published here throughout the last five years. No matter, I am a better person for the effort. And that relates to the present situation due to my being closed off again. Yes, again. This time? The last. Read it. Two women from years passed are still the primary reasons for me sitting here right now. Believe it or not. That. Is. It. Cut. And. Dry. Another package on the porch. Gloves, garage, three days, yay. The plan back in the old days was to get my truck into reliable and protected shape and then plan for future issues by carrying tools, parts, and equipment for maintaining the mechanical condition upon reaching desolate areas. I never really had that plan off the ground because I became buried in day-to-day life and eventually relocated most of the way across the country. Plus I was young and resilient, meaning that the idea of dashing into some far corner felt more adventurous and less risky. I was more concerned with fucking disappearing and pressing others to try and figure out my way of thinking than I was about being comfortable all of the time. Less years equals more willingness to take a chance. Once settled in our new residence so far from where I had grown up, the mapping of my getaway was organized and shelved. The house in which we set up shop was not only in a small town, but on the outskirts, as well. In a country block there were three on our street and the nearest neighbors aside from the two were close to a mile of farmland away. I felt as if we were already far from society, and having been satiated by the remoteness I relaxed for a couple of years. No worries there. None. Life went on for those years and I found myself pleased to be out of the big societal machine. Even when entering the city for work, I still felt far from everything. And home meant a concerted effort to see one neighbor on occasion. We were out there a decent distance. In the end, I held hours-long conversations with the cats, meaning less and less with people. It was nice. Unfortunately, such a life did not last long. I drove home alone, my things in the bed of my pickup, just under two years later. Also, another entry will outline my life there. That opus is already in the works. Thumbs up? Not yet. The sun made an appearance. Splendid. So what is the plan now? I have only ideas. My need to leave everyone behind is strong, although it has arrived at the worst possible time. I can do exactly nothing right now aside from bitching here. I guess this is better than nothing. The recent situations which have pushed me into the old thinking are still very fresh and will fade given time. I hope they do, and sooner rather than later. As much as I desire making a statement that will cause much confusion and feelings of loss, those events that took place between last night and this morning are going to have to wait. I will drown myself into whatever projects or hobbies might have the ability to help me distance myself. And the cessation of exposure has already taken place. Those avenues which can often cause me difficulty have been cut off at the source and will not return. I have plenty of other things to occupy my time, and a few which are actually enjoyable. This can be one of them more often than I would care to admit. Some time ago I mentioned that I love the language, grammar, and composition as I have studied for years, and right next to those wondrous and fulfilling disciplines is the simplicity of hearing the keys click. I love it. I searched high and low nearly three years ago to find an appropriate machine that can house my life and interests and this is it. Wonderful. Also? All those little annoyances that have been left by the wayside most days out of my ongoing need for relaxation, thought, and comfort. The routine always had me at odds with those things, but now the climate is such that I have to be home all the time. So here I am, with everything in good order, and things are becoming accomplished that have sat for years. The slam of society which fucked my stomach up for hours is easing as I type these words. That is the upside. Want to know the downside? I despise the world for too many reasons to list and have decided to remove myself from it as much as I can without losing those things to which I cling. That means slow planning, silence, and pushing against others until they give up. Hmm... That is also something I enjoy. Nearly a win-win, you say? Well, fuck you. And no. You are a part of that fucking machine and will be shut off just like the rest. Go away. Go fucking far away from me. Sound like a bad mood? Heh. I need to stay focused. I cannot state that enough. Yesterday was not easy, to say the least. Something entered my head and would not leave. I was a pile of anxiety and worry all fucking day and it did not begin to fade until the evening. Now? Mostly gone. I have to keep things like that in mind just in case the days or weeks begin to get slender enough to allow for too much thinking. I can take it easy on the words and let up a bit on others, and the sum may help me to relax. Still, that nagging thought of going away pops in from time to time. I am not prepared to do anything right now, so I have to just maintain course and speed until some new development either changes things or I come up with an idea. In short, status quo. Everything else has been shut off. I will no longer initiate conversation with others nor will I ask questions. My silence will eventually cause issues and then those issues will compound. That is fine. I would rather be holed up with my brain and little world then out there where things develop out of thin air and cause a huge stink within society. A little rumor or tidbit of false information born of distaste or fear comes out of someone's mouth, spreads quickly like weeds on the side of the roadbed, and then everyone squares their shoulders and stands together as if something real is happening. They stomp, complain, and eventually turn in defiance of the 'establishment'. With large numbers of others by their sides, they feel correct. Thus, problem. I will not be anywhere near that. It's like some other planet where I am floating in the center of a large group as they meet over a subject in which I have no interest, yet cannot escape. They just keep going, feed off each other, and I can hear everything. I feel like that right now. Yes, there are good people with common sense and patience with everything, yet they are tucked away in the corners of the city doing their own thing. The ruffled feathers are out and about with mouths flapping like ducks learning to fly. Well, flap in another direction. Leave me out of it from now on. Thanks. You are all idiots anyway. Maybe one day you will realize it. Speaking of bitching... Heh. Today is Sunday and that means little chores here and there. No big deal. And now Monday morning. The little chores yesterday turned into loud music and lots of beer in the garage as I worked on a light box which had been sitting for who-knows how long. Something took place after all of the stress and anxiety the previous day. I found myself standing and wondering what to do with my time, and then decided I had listened to too much news throughout the last several weeks. So, the old phone was connected to the big stereo after I realized that my music account was canceled in an effort to reduce monthly expenses. Yep, I forgot about that one and simply commanded the Echo to play what I desired. All was well until I heard three songs in a row by the same artist and then a commercial. Well, not for me. So the phone played some mellow stuff as I milled around. A bit of laundry, some organizing here and there, after which I was wondering how long until cocktail hour. And that was roughly two in the afternoon. Ugh. And then a switch flipped to its other position inside my head. The mellow music was no longer going to cut the mustard. I altered the play list and began to feel a tad angry at the entire situation as it has developed since last month. The music became louder, imposing. The power tools came out of the cabinets and tool box. I ripped the wood, designed, and partially built a lighted platform for my big vodka bottles. After working for quite a while, I ceased and came inside for dinner. Those few hours represented the first time since the beginning of this current crisis that I have broken out of whatever shell had developed around me while considering the weight of recent events. After having been closed off to most of the outside world, I opened it wide with a deference and change in attitude the degree of which I had thought escaped me. I was forthright, decisive, and pushed my way out of that sad bubble and into a place of empowerment and joy. In short, I worked and lifted myself up and out of the fucking din for the first time in over a month. This morning I am already anticipating heading out there to attack the situation again. Outcome be damned, I am going to slam the issue and carry out what I wish. Fuck it all, as it were. Yesterday I turned everything inside out and I will not allow anyone or anything to change my world back. I suppose I became tired of feeling held back by the situation. I lashed, for lack of a better term, and pushed hard to enjoy myself and work off some stress. Well, that took me away and in the end I felt both accomplished and more in control of my reaction to what is taking place. After reading some tips for managing time and anxiety, I decided to lessen the amount of news coverage I had been watching and killed the social media for good. I do not need to know what is going on with others unless they are those I hold close. That outlet used to be funny and enjoyable but has morphed into a twenty-four hour bitch session with much of the content being in very bad taste. Well, goodbye to that and hello to my little world opening quite a bit. I am out of that cycle and into something better. Pissy, yes, but better. The last several days and their pull upon me have influenced the idea of a getaway. I still need and want such a change, however remaining here a we have been instructed can be used to my advantage. The garage and music came in handy but I do not believe others are getting the message of my condition. Well, I shall try again today and with a tad more emphasis. Pointed words, short responses (if any at all), and a couple of steps away should help. Another morning. Wow, some of these entries are days in the making while others pop out quickly. The occasional long, continuing story-type entries waver all over the map and sit sometimes for months on end before seeing the light of publication. Funny. Whatever. I do not care anyway. I have not spent time in front of this editor for almost a week. Hmm. And this one began early. I could not sleep after being awakened by something beyond my control, but at least the hour was not ridiculous. Coffee, television (fiction, of course), and here I am. Later today a visitor is coming which means I will be out in the garage again getting things in order and working on the organization which never seems to go away or find completion. Oh, well, plenty of time, right? Weeks of it, for fuck's sake. I will sit here and work on this crap and eventually transition out there to get something going. Plenty has been done so far, and more is awaiting my attention. Plus, this morning marks one week since my brain had all that trouble and mixed up my stomach. That means I will slam the point once again. I don't care. The extraction from the norm shall continue, I will push forward, and in the end I may be better off for the effort. I need to streamline everything and make room for the incoming nothingness. I need it to happen. And it will, as I improve myself. The driveway will pay no mind. I am half looking forward to being out there again and half wondering if the situation might affect me like last weekend. I pushed pretty hard that afternoon, so perhaps keeping those feelings in mind can help me to remain ok. Perhaps. And I am still in a lousy mood. Not horrible, but unpleasant. Others will see. This has turned into a weblog of sorts. The stories are so far to the rear that I cannot imagine continuing until I can square away my brain. I will get there. Issue four has been right there, just below the surface of every moment of the morning, and has become more tempting than in months due to the passage of so much time. Enticing, if you will. But I have done nothing thus far, and after days of thinking about the idea, I concluded yesterday that my feelings on the subject have changed (somewhat) for the better. I no longer feel the disdain and disappointment to the same degree as in years passed. The subject has become and experiment, a process of sorts, and I believe I can deal with it on a more accepting level from now on. Sometimes I spend too much of my day dwelling upon this, other times I am fine and can cease the analysis and relax. That massive book of images in my head that began filling some time ago is in charge sometimes and I need to keep in mind that as a person there are few wrongs when it comes to consideration of myself. Others do not know the depth of such places, and after the Raven I have not been able to reconcile my feelings well enough to learn much. I think of the issue, work out the best way to go about daily life as it affects me, and then make the best decision of which I am able. Considering the underlying circumstances, the help can be there without me thinking that something is wrong. Both Andrea and the Raven had very solid opinions and after long conversations on late, dark nights, I had been left with support never before felt so strongly. I have to respect the wishes of those women. I have to. Even sitting here with the editor on my lap the idea is there. Wow. As much as I have gone round and round with this entire subject for years, it is still fascinating and stirring like nothing before. But that is all for now. I have to stop this. End of line for a while. Unclear? Fucking deal with it. Not at this early hour, but soon. Mark my words. I experienced a dream earlier this morning that was very surreal. I cannot remember some of the details after being awake for more than an hour, however there are more memories of the images and thoughts than I normally recall on a given morning. Usually I realize that I was dreaming but remember nothing. Rarely do I retain any details, or at least enough to form a theory as to possible meanings. Today? Wow, it is fairly clear and in my brain right now. My partner and I were living in what seemed to be a converted storefront (likely due to working in something similar in recent years that I thought was really cool), and had the appearance of a music store. We had platforms here and there, lit from above, and each with a set of drums all shiny and unique. Apparently, one of them was the kit I regularly played. All of the art-like setups were toward the back and the space went around to the right as one approached the rear of the building. The remaining space toward the front/street was mostly empty, carpeted, and very clean. At one point I was heading to the door an overheard a child's voice asking of why we needed two loaves of some kind of bread that had been left at the entrance. At hearing that, I suddenly felt like we were very wealthy. And then I realized that I was in pajamas (very soft and plush), robe, and expensive Slippers. I strolled to the door, picked up both enormous loaves of bread, and stepped to the sidewalk where there was a table set up. I put the bread on the table and began to address some men who were standing opposite me. The bread seemed valuable beyond description, but I did not necessarily need it all. The scene reinforced the idea that I was rich. I told the guys to pick a number between one and ten and the closest to the number in my head would win one loaf. The guy on my immediate left stumbled a bit as if he had a speech impediment, and then blurted three... The lowest. My number was two, so I told him he won. The guy and the bread strolled off as he smiled. One of the others was irritated and felt the contest had been unfair and I could not console him before he hurriedly stepped away. I rolled back inside to find someone else there by the drums in the back. He was marveling as my partner dusted some wooden sculptures. I told him of the set that I played and he was amazed, telling me the whole place was really cool. And... Awake. No more storefront, drums, bread. All I could think about was the inkling that we had been somehow isolated and immune to what is currently taking place around the world due to being rich. I cannot clearly define the feeling now, but the child asking of our massive amount of bread combined with the manner in which I gave away some of it felt like we had been without much worry. It was strange, yet comfortable. And the drums caused me to awaken thinking of my own set of electronic percussion that is in the garage. That is nowhere near the same as those beautiful kits in the store, but an outlet through which I can practice, anyway. The whole thing relates to daily life on more than one level, especially now. I do not need to understand everything (and I do not have the education which might help process and interpret a dream), and some positivity came from it. Hmm. Here comes that uncomfortable feeling again. It washed over me and developed in the space of one hour. I do not like it at all. This is what drove me to becoming so angry last weekend. The day had better turn into something good or I will not react well. Not in the least. Plus, I saw the walnut girl again last night just before turning in and my brain is still devouring her at an alarming rate. Oy. At least Jamie faded a bit. The pool thongs? They had better stay far away from issue four right now. Funny? Kind of, I have to admit. Extraction. That is the title and the one word which describes my need to keep distance from the masses. The words fly, the booze will flow, and I will see where the day takes me." Copyright ©2002-2024 comainterrupted.com All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Created by Brandywine Engineering using Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 and .NET Framework 4.8 Questions? Comments? Anything? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the psychos in charge
Extraction Mature content No. 127 Published April 30th, 2020 5:45am pdt read ( words) Past entries "I am at a loss. The world has been this way for more than a month now, and while some seem to be doing fine, others are apparently not. The time has come to shut them out. Yes, the threat that I have tossed to the screen for years -- actually since long before I had learned of the Internet at all -- is going to happen. All those years ago my dissatisfaction with the nature of society was pushing me away from other people as I quietly planned a trip north. The ideas of where to go came and went from one week to the next, yet nothing really materialized in the short term. The funny thing is, had I been visiting the mountains regularly as I did a decade later, the idea might have softened a little over time due to the release I had felt whenever we were up there for days at a time. Well, none of that had been available way back, so my thinking was pretty much solo. I do recall working for an auto parts warehouse and filing away little bits of information here and there which might help me to live elsewhere. Books, maps, supplies, and clothing for cold weather were always on my mind while being mired within the machine that was our society. I had a truck which I was hoping to outfit for the long haul, plans for several different destinations, and enough solitude at work to think everything through reasonably well on a daily basis. Years have gone by without me actually considering getting away from everyone. The last time I can remember feeling the need to run away (in a manner other than heading to the goblet to drown into an alcohol and sex-laden fantasy) was right near the turn of the millennium when I was spending much of my time commuting on freeways due to home being quite a distance from my place of work. Most days found me angling to get the fuck out of this metropolitan area and toward open space and less people. I used to daydream about slamming those who knew me by arriving somewhere very far away by the time they woke up in the morning. Like on a work day or something. Well, that never took place, and as much as I needed to get away from those I considered 'sheep', the means were just not there as I spent much of my time focused upon being as comfortable as possible and finding my own brand of isolation right there at home. For the most part, it worked. The idea of dashing away soon faded but never really disappeared completely. It was always there. And only one other occasion took place in recent years. During a very bad time, I actually tossed my 'just in case' bag of stuff into the trunk of my Goddamned commuter car and took off toward the northeast in search of being alone and with the hope of sending a message to those who did not seem to take my needs seriously. Well, it did not last. Upon reaching roughly halfway to the state line, I felt the idea would go bad somehow and returned home. There was a sinking feeling that I did not have the plan or resources to remain away long enough to affect those people that needed a lesson. No one ever knew I had left the house. That is rather funny when you think about it. One hundred miles, a stop to fill the tank, and in the space of a few minutes I realized there could be other ways of sending a message. Back home and organized. I need to get a fourth cat so there is one to refill my coffee while the other three are lying on my feet. In the old days (read: twenty-plus years ago), the idea of a destination had always been somewhere very remote, cold, and with few residents. Considering what I have learned throughout years of listening to people's ideas for vacations and such, I have concluded that most seem to gravitate toward warm, sunny beaches or the like. And then they enjoy the warm sun at home, or would prefer it, anyway. The simple fact is when the climate becomes physically difficult or very uncomfortable, people do not wish to be there. So, all of my ideas were far north of wherever I was living at the time. Lower mean average temperature, lower population. It is a fact of life on this world. My need to avoid others and defy the difficulties inherent in living among the ice pressed down on my shoulders each year when the mercury began to soar and the days lengthened. I was very uncomfortable much of the time. I have considered those occasions and time periods for many weeks now. This year has been very different due to the current health climate which pretty much shut us the hell down just a month ago. Since then, I have learned of my place within a certain circle. Add on something that has been developing within me for the last several years and the conclusion is that I am better off without others in my life. The occasional electronic contact is fine, however. I cannot turn off the connection that helps me to get from one day to the next, I just do not wish to be near other people any longer. The other day I was feeling this way -- although not as deeply -- when the other situation arose and forced me to think about the pool girls, the walnut commercial, and my feelings toward the obsession as it has affected me for years. Well, that is going to have to be placed to the rear right now, along with stories, unless something miraculous takes place soon. I must focus upon fortifying myself in every way conceivable. Yes, right here in this fucking box. This began last night, I slept and arose to make coffee, and the realization became fused to my brain soon after. The feelings for the last few years are now in charge of the manner in which I live my life. Period. Remember all those essays in which I said something was going to happen and wait for 'the word go'? This is 'go'. Right now. Every now and then I will stroll down the driveway with my cocktail and cigarette, but that is all. Andrea stood before me once as I sat on the sofa in the Polynesian wearing only a little orange thong and nothing else and stated in no uncertain terms: 'You will be just fine, my love.' Well, I wish she were here right now to tell me the same because I could use it from her. Those words were not hopeful, nor were they ethereal due to our love for each other. The words she spoke were a directive of the highest order. She meant that I was not allowed to harm myself, and I have not. Andrea loved me unlike anyone else, and our connection still feels fresh. That means it hurts whenever I think of her big heart beating or wherever she may reside after all these years. Well, I am no longer in mind for such weakness. I have carried on this far and will continue to do so regardless of the detritus being spewed by the mass. No one can stop me without serious force or reason beyond my present comprehension. Having said that, I realize that the words go against many other writings published here throughout the last five years. No matter, I am a better person for the effort. And that relates to the present situation due to my being closed off again. Yes, again. This time? The last. Read it. Two women from years passed are still the primary reasons for me sitting here right now. Believe it or not. That. Is. It. Cut. And. Dry. Another package on the porch. Gloves, garage, three days, yay. The plan back in the old days was to get my truck into reliable and protected shape and then plan for future issues by carrying tools, parts, and equipment for maintaining the mechanical condition upon reaching desolate areas. I never really had that plan off the ground because I became buried in day-to-day life and eventually relocated most of the way across the country. Plus I was young and resilient, meaning that the idea of dashing into some far corner felt more adventurous and less risky. I was more concerned with fucking disappearing and pressing others to try and figure out my way of thinking than I was about being comfortable all of the time. Less years equals more willingness to take a chance. Once settled in our new residence so far from where I had grown up, the mapping of my getaway was organized and shelved. The house in which we set up shop was not only in a small town, but on the outskirts, as well. In a country block there were three on our street and the nearest neighbors aside from the two were close to a mile of farmland away. I felt as if we were already far from society, and having been satiated by the remoteness I relaxed for a couple of years. No worries there. None. Life went on for those years and I found myself pleased to be out of the big societal machine. Even when entering the city for work, I still felt far from everything. And home meant a concerted effort to see one neighbor on occasion. We were out there a decent distance. In the end, I held hours-long conversations with the cats, meaning less and less with people. It was nice. Unfortunately, such a life did not last long. I drove home alone, my things in the bed of my pickup, just under two years later. Also, another entry will outline my life there. That opus is already in the works. Thumbs up? Not yet. The sun made an appearance. Splendid. So what is the plan now? I have only ideas. My need to leave everyone behind is strong, although it has arrived at the worst possible time. I can do exactly nothing right now aside from bitching here. I guess this is better than nothing. The recent situations which have pushed me into the old thinking are still very fresh and will fade given time. I hope they do, and sooner rather than later. As much as I desire making a statement that will cause much confusion and feelings of loss, those events that took place between last night and this morning are going to have to wait. I will drown myself into whatever projects or hobbies might have the ability to help me distance myself. And the cessation of exposure has already taken place. Those avenues which can often cause me difficulty have been cut off at the source and will not return. I have plenty of other things to occupy my time, and a few which are actually enjoyable. This can be one of them more often than I would care to admit. Some time ago I mentioned that I love the language, grammar, and composition as I have studied for years, and right next to those wondrous and fulfilling disciplines is the simplicity of hearing the keys click. I love it. I searched high and low nearly three years ago to find an appropriate machine that can house my life and interests and this is it. Wonderful. Also? All those little annoyances that have been left by the wayside most days out of my ongoing need for relaxation, thought, and comfort. The routine always had me at odds with those things, but now the climate is such that I have to be home all the time. So here I am, with everything in good order, and things are becoming accomplished that have sat for years. The slam of society which fucked my stomach up for hours is easing as I type these words. That is the upside. Want to know the downside? I despise the world for too many reasons to list and have decided to remove myself from it as much as I can without losing those things to which I cling. That means slow planning, silence, and pushing against others until they give up. Hmm... That is also something I enjoy. Nearly a win-win, you say? Well, fuck you. And no. You are a part of that fucking machine and will be shut off just like the rest. Go away. Go fucking far away from me. Sound like a bad mood? Heh. I need to stay focused. I cannot state that enough. Yesterday was not easy, to say the least. Something entered my head and would not leave. I was a pile of anxiety and worry all fucking day and it did not begin to fade until the evening. Now? Mostly gone. I have to keep things like that in mind just in case the days or weeks begin to get slender enough to allow for too much thinking. I can take it easy on the words and let up a bit on others, and the sum may help me to relax. Still, that nagging thought of going away pops in from time to time. I am not prepared to do anything right now, so I have to just maintain course and speed until some new development either changes things or I come up with an idea. In short, status quo. Everything else has been shut off. I will no longer initiate conversation with others nor will I ask questions. My silence will eventually cause issues and then those issues will compound. That is fine. I would rather be holed up with my brain and little world then out there where things develop out of thin air and cause a huge stink within society. A little rumor or tidbit of false information born of distaste or fear comes out of someone's mouth, spreads quickly like weeds on the side of the roadbed, and then everyone squares their shoulders and stands together as if something real is happening. They stomp, complain, and eventually turn in defiance of the 'establishment'. With large numbers of others by their sides, they feel correct. Thus, problem. I will not be anywhere near that. It's like some other planet where I am floating in the center of a large group as they meet over a subject in which I have no interest, yet cannot escape. They just keep going, feed off each other, and I can hear everything. I feel like that right now. Yes, there are good people with common sense and patience with everything, yet they are tucked away in the corners of the city doing their own thing. The ruffled feathers are out and about with mouths flapping like ducks learning to fly. Well, flap in another direction. Leave me out of it from now on. Thanks. You are all idiots anyway. Maybe one day you will realize it. Speaking of bitching... Heh. Today is Sunday and that means little chores here and there. No big deal. And now Monday morning. The little chores yesterday turned into loud music and lots of beer in the garage as I worked on a light box which had been sitting for who-knows how long. Something took place after all of the stress and anxiety the previous day. I found myself standing and wondering what to do with my time, and then decided I had listened to too much news throughout the last several weeks. So, the old phone was connected to the big stereo after I realized that my music account was canceled in an effort to reduce monthly expenses. Yep, I forgot about that one and simply commanded the Echo to play what I desired. All was well until I heard three songs in a row by the same artist and then a commercial. Well, not for me. So the phone played some mellow stuff as I milled around. A bit of laundry, some organizing here and there, after which I was wondering how long until cocktail hour. And that was roughly two in the afternoon. Ugh. And then a switch flipped to its other position inside my head. The mellow music was no longer going to cut the mustard. I altered the play list and began to feel a tad angry at the entire situation as it has developed since last month. The music became louder, imposing. The power tools came out of the cabinets and tool box. I ripped the wood, designed, and partially built a lighted platform for my big vodka bottles. After working for quite a while, I ceased and came inside for dinner. Those few hours represented the first time since the beginning of this current crisis that I have broken out of whatever shell had developed around me while considering the weight of recent events. After having been closed off to most of the outside world, I opened it wide with a deference and change in attitude the degree of which I had thought escaped me. I was forthright, decisive, and pushed my way out of that sad bubble and into a place of empowerment and joy. In short, I worked and lifted myself up and out of the fucking din for the first time in over a month. This morning I am already anticipating heading out there to attack the situation again. Outcome be damned, I am going to slam the issue and carry out what I wish. Fuck it all, as it were. Yesterday I turned everything inside out and I will not allow anyone or anything to change my world back. I suppose I became tired of feeling held back by the situation. I lashed, for lack of a better term, and pushed hard to enjoy myself and work off some stress. Well, that took me away and in the end I felt both accomplished and more in control of my reaction to what is taking place. After reading some tips for managing time and anxiety, I decided to lessen the amount of news coverage I had been watching and killed the social media for good. I do not need to know what is going on with others unless they are those I hold close. That outlet used to be funny and enjoyable but has morphed into a twenty-four hour bitch session with much of the content being in very bad taste. Well, goodbye to that and hello to my little world opening quite a bit. I am out of that cycle and into something better. Pissy, yes, but better. The last several days and their pull upon me have influenced the idea of a getaway. I still need and want such a change, however remaining here a we have been instructed can be used to my advantage. The garage and music came in handy but I do not believe others are getting the message of my condition. Well, I shall try again today and with a tad more emphasis. Pointed words, short responses (if any at all), and a couple of steps away should help. Another morning. Wow, some of these entries are days in the making while others pop out quickly. The occasional long, continuing story-type entries waver all over the map and sit sometimes for months on end before seeing the light of publication. Funny. Whatever. I do not care anyway. I have not spent time in front of this editor for almost a week. Hmm. And this one began early. I could not sleep after being awakened by something beyond my control, but at least the hour was not ridiculous. Coffee, television (fiction, of course), and here I am. Later today a visitor is coming which means I will be out in the garage again getting things in order and working on the organization which never seems to go away or find completion. Oh, well, plenty of time, right? Weeks of it, for fuck's sake. I will sit here and work on this crap and eventually transition out there to get something going. Plenty has been done so far, and more is awaiting my attention. Plus, this morning marks one week since my brain had all that trouble and mixed up my stomach. That means I will slam the point once again. I don't care. The extraction from the norm shall continue, I will push forward, and in the end I may be better off for the effort. I need to streamline everything and make room for the incoming nothingness. I need it to happen. And it will, as I improve myself. The driveway will pay no mind. I am half looking forward to being out there again and half wondering if the situation might affect me like last weekend. I pushed pretty hard that afternoon, so perhaps keeping those feelings in mind can help me to remain ok. Perhaps. And I am still in a lousy mood. Not horrible, but unpleasant. Others will see. This has turned into a weblog of sorts. The stories are so far to the rear that I cannot imagine continuing until I can square away my brain. I will get there. Issue four has been right there, just below the surface of every moment of the morning, and has become more tempting than in months due to the passage of so much time. Enticing, if you will. But I have done nothing thus far, and after days of thinking about the idea, I concluded yesterday that my feelings on the subject have changed (somewhat) for the better. I no longer feel the disdain and disappointment to the same degree as in years passed. The subject has become and experiment, a process of sorts, and I believe I can deal with it on a more accepting level from now on. Sometimes I spend too much of my day dwelling upon this, other times I am fine and can cease the analysis and relax. That massive book of images in my head that began filling some time ago is in charge sometimes and I need to keep in mind that as a person there are few wrongs when it comes to consideration of myself. Others do not know the depth of such places, and after the Raven I have not been able to reconcile my feelings well enough to learn much. I think of the issue, work out the best way to go about daily life as it affects me, and then make the best decision of which I am able. Considering the underlying circumstances, the help can be there without me thinking that something is wrong. Both Andrea and the Raven had very solid opinions and after long conversations on late, dark nights, I had been left with support never before felt so strongly. I have to respect the wishes of those women. I have to. Even sitting here with the editor on my lap the idea is there. Wow. As much as I have gone round and round with this entire subject for years, it is still fascinating and stirring like nothing before. But that is all for now. I have to stop this. End of line for a while. Unclear? Fucking deal with it. Not at this early hour, but soon. Mark my words. I experienced a dream earlier this morning that was very surreal. I cannot remember some of the details after being awake for more than an hour, however there are more memories of the images and thoughts than I normally recall on a given morning. Usually I realize that I was dreaming but remember nothing. Rarely do I retain any details, or at least enough to form a theory as to possible meanings. Today? Wow, it is fairly clear and in my brain right now. My partner and I were living in what seemed to be a converted storefront (likely due to working in something similar in recent years that I thought was really cool), and had the appearance of a music store. We had platforms here and there, lit from above, and each with a set of drums all shiny and unique. Apparently, one of them was the kit I regularly played. All of the art-like setups were toward the back and the space went around to the right as one approached the rear of the building. The remaining space toward the front/street was mostly empty, carpeted, and very clean. At one point I was heading to the door an overheard a child's voice asking of why we needed two loaves of some kind of bread that had been left at the entrance. At hearing that, I suddenly felt like we were very wealthy. And then I realized that I was in pajamas (very soft and plush), robe, and expensive Slippers. I strolled to the door, picked up both enormous loaves of bread, and stepped to the sidewalk where there was a table set up. I put the bread on the table and began to address some men who were standing opposite me. The bread seemed valuable beyond description, but I did not necessarily need it all. The scene reinforced the idea that I was rich. I told the guys to pick a number between one and ten and the closest to the number in my head would win one loaf. The guy on my immediate left stumbled a bit as if he had a speech impediment, and then blurted three... The lowest. My number was two, so I told him he won. The guy and the bread strolled off as he smiled. One of the others was irritated and felt the contest had been unfair and I could not console him before he hurriedly stepped away. I rolled back inside to find someone else there by the drums in the back. He was marveling as my partner dusted some wooden sculptures. I told him of the set that I played and he was amazed, telling me the whole place was really cool. And... Awake. No more storefront, drums, bread. All I could think about was the inkling that we had been somehow isolated and immune to what is currently taking place around the world due to being rich. I cannot clearly define the feeling now, but the child asking of our massive amount of bread combined with the manner in which I gave away some of it felt like we had been without much worry. It was strange, yet comfortable. And the drums caused me to awaken thinking of my own set of electronic percussion that is in the garage. That is nowhere near the same as those beautiful kits in the store, but an outlet through which I can practice, anyway. The whole thing relates to daily life on more than one level, especially now. I do not need to understand everything (and I do not have the education which might help process and interpret a dream), and some positivity came from it. Hmm. Here comes that uncomfortable feeling again. It washed over me and developed in the space of one hour. I do not like it at all. This is what drove me to becoming so angry last weekend. The day had better turn into something good or I will not react well. Not in the least. Plus, I saw the walnut girl again last night just before turning in and my brain is still devouring her at an alarming rate. Oy. At least Jamie faded a bit. The pool thongs? They had better stay far away from issue four right now. Funny? Kind of, I have to admit. Extraction. That is the title and the one word which describes my need to keep distance from the masses. The words fly, the booze will flow, and I will see where the day takes me."
Extraction
Mature content No. 127 Published April 30th, 2020 5:45am pdt read ( words) Past entries
"I am at a loss. The world has been this way for more than a month now, and while some seem to be doing fine, others are apparently not. The time has come to shut them out. Yes, the threat that I have tossed to the screen for years -- actually since long before I had learned of the Internet at all -- is going to happen. All those years ago my dissatisfaction with the nature of society was pushing me away from other people as I quietly planned a trip north. The ideas of where to go came and went from one week to the next, yet nothing really materialized in the short term. The funny thing is, had I been visiting the mountains regularly as I did a decade later, the idea might have softened a little over time due to the release I had felt whenever we were up there for days at a time. Well, none of that had been available way back, so my thinking was pretty much solo. I do recall working for an auto parts warehouse and filing away little bits of information here and there which might help me to live elsewhere. Books, maps, supplies, and clothing for cold weather were always on my mind while being mired within the machine that was our society. I had a truck which I was hoping to outfit for the long haul, plans for several different destinations, and enough solitude at work to think everything through reasonably well on a daily basis. Years have gone by without me actually considering getting away from everyone. The last time I can remember feeling the need to run away (in a manner other than heading to the goblet to drown into an alcohol and sex-laden fantasy) was right near the turn of the millennium when I was spending much of my time commuting on freeways due to home being quite a distance from my place of work. Most days found me angling to get the fuck out of this metropolitan area and toward open space and less people. I used to daydream about slamming those who knew me by arriving somewhere very far away by the time they woke up in the morning. Like on a work day or something. Well, that never took place, and as much as I needed to get away from those I considered 'sheep', the means were just not there as I spent much of my time focused upon being as comfortable as possible and finding my own brand of isolation right there at home. For the most part, it worked. The idea of dashing away soon faded but never really disappeared completely. It was always there. And only one other occasion took place in recent years. During a very bad time, I actually tossed my 'just in case' bag of stuff into the trunk of my Goddamned commuter car and took off toward the northeast in search of being alone and with the hope of sending a message to those who did not seem to take my needs seriously. Well, it did not last. Upon reaching roughly halfway to the state line, I felt the idea would go bad somehow and returned home. There was a sinking feeling that I did not have the plan or resources to remain away long enough to affect those people that needed a lesson. No one ever knew I had left the house. That is rather funny when you think about it. One hundred miles, a stop to fill the tank, and in the space of a few minutes I realized there could be other ways of sending a message. Back home and organized. I need to get a fourth cat so there is one to refill my coffee while the other three are lying on my feet. In the old days (read: twenty-plus years ago), the idea of a destination had always been somewhere very remote, cold, and with few residents. Considering what I have learned throughout years of listening to people's ideas for vacations and such, I have concluded that most seem to gravitate toward warm, sunny beaches or the like. And then they enjoy the warm sun at home, or would prefer it, anyway. The simple fact is when the climate becomes physically difficult or very uncomfortable, people do not wish to be there. So, all of my ideas were far north of wherever I was living at the time. Lower mean average temperature, lower population. It is a fact of life on this world. My need to avoid others and defy the difficulties inherent in living among the ice pressed down on my shoulders each year when the mercury began to soar and the days lengthened. I was very uncomfortable much of the time. I have considered those occasions and time periods for many weeks now. This year has been very different due to the current health climate which pretty much shut us the hell down just a month ago. Since then, I have learned of my place within a certain circle. Add on something that has been developing within me for the last several years and the conclusion is that I am better off without others in my life. The occasional electronic contact is fine, however. I cannot turn off the connection that helps me to get from one day to the next, I just do not wish to be near other people any longer. The other day I was feeling this way -- although not as deeply -- when the other situation arose and forced me to think about the pool girls, the walnut commercial, and my feelings toward the obsession as it has affected me for years. Well, that is going to have to be placed to the rear right now, along with stories, unless something miraculous takes place soon. I must focus upon fortifying myself in every way conceivable. Yes, right here in this fucking box. This began last night, I slept and arose to make coffee, and the realization became fused to my brain soon after. The feelings for the last few years are now in charge of the manner in which I live my life. Period. Remember all those essays in which I said something was going to happen and wait for 'the word go'? This is 'go'. Right now.
Every now and then I will stroll down the driveway with my cocktail and cigarette, but that is all. Andrea stood before me once as I sat on the sofa in the Polynesian wearing only a little orange thong and nothing else and stated in no uncertain terms: 'You will be just fine, my love.' Well, I wish she were here right now to tell me the same because I could use it from her. Those words were not hopeful, nor were they ethereal due to our love for each other. The words she spoke were a directive of the highest order. She meant that I was not allowed to harm myself, and I have not. Andrea loved me unlike anyone else, and our connection still feels fresh. That means it hurts whenever I think of her big heart beating or wherever she may reside after all these years. Well, I am no longer in mind for such weakness. I have carried on this far and will continue to do so regardless of the detritus being spewed by the mass. No one can stop me without serious force or reason beyond my present comprehension. Having said that, I realize that the words go against many other writings published here throughout the last five years. No matter, I am a better person for the effort. And that relates to the present situation due to my being closed off again. Yes, again. This time? The last. Read it. Two women from years passed are still the primary reasons for me sitting here right now. Believe it or not. That. Is. It. Cut. And. Dry. Another package on the porch. Gloves, garage, three days, yay. The plan back in the old days was to get my truck into reliable and protected shape and then plan for future issues by carrying tools, parts, and equipment for maintaining the mechanical condition upon reaching desolate areas. I never really had that plan off the ground because I became buried in day-to-day life and eventually relocated most of the way across the country. Plus I was young and resilient, meaning that the idea of dashing into some far corner felt more adventurous and less risky. I was more concerned with fucking disappearing and pressing others to try and figure out my way of thinking than I was about being comfortable all of the time. Less years equals more willingness to take a chance. Once settled in our new residence so far from where I had grown up, the mapping of my getaway was organized and shelved. The house in which we set up shop was not only in a small town, but on the outskirts, as well. In a country block there were three on our street and the nearest neighbors aside from the two were close to a mile of farmland away. I felt as if we were already far from society, and having been satiated by the remoteness I relaxed for a couple of years. No worries there. None. Life went on for those years and I found myself pleased to be out of the big societal machine. Even when entering the city for work, I still felt far from everything. And home meant a concerted effort to see one neighbor on occasion. We were out there a decent distance. In the end, I held hours-long conversations with the cats, meaning less and less with people. It was nice. Unfortunately, such a life did not last long. I drove home alone, my things in the bed of my pickup, just under two years later. Also, another entry will outline my life there. That opus is already in the works. Thumbs up? Not yet. The sun made an appearance. Splendid. So what is the plan now? I have only ideas. My need to leave everyone behind is strong, although it has arrived at the worst possible time. I can do exactly nothing right now aside from bitching here. I guess this is better than nothing. The recent situations which have pushed me into the old thinking are still very fresh and will fade given time. I hope they do, and sooner rather than later. As much as I desire making a statement that will cause much confusion and feelings of loss, those events that took place between last night and this morning are going to have to wait. I will drown myself into whatever projects or hobbies might have the ability to help me distance myself. And the cessation of exposure has already taken place. Those avenues which can often cause me difficulty have been cut off at the source and will not return. I have plenty of other things to occupy my time, and a few which are actually enjoyable. This can be one of them more often than I would care to admit. Some time ago I mentioned that I love the language, grammar, and composition as I have studied for years, and right next to those wondrous and fulfilling disciplines is the simplicity of hearing the keys click. I love it. I searched high and low nearly three years ago to find an appropriate machine that can house my life and interests and this is it. Wonderful. Also? All those little annoyances that have been left by the wayside most days out of my ongoing need for relaxation, thought, and comfort. The routine always had me at odds with those things, but now the climate is such that I have to be home all the time. So here I am, with everything in good order, and things are becoming accomplished that have sat for years. The slam of society which fucked my stomach up for hours is easing as I type these words. That is the upside. Want to know the downside? I despise the world for too many reasons to list and have decided to remove myself from it as much as I can without losing those things to which I cling. That means slow planning, silence, and pushing against others until they give up. Hmm... That is also something I enjoy. Nearly a win-win, you say? Well, fuck you. And no. You are a part of that fucking machine and will be shut off just like the rest. Go away. Go fucking far away from me.
Sound like a bad mood? Heh. I need to stay focused. I cannot state that enough. Yesterday was not easy, to say the least. Something entered my head and would not leave. I was a pile of anxiety and worry all fucking day and it did not begin to fade until the evening. Now? Mostly gone. I have to keep things like that in mind just in case the days or weeks begin to get slender enough to allow for too much thinking. I can take it easy on the words and let up a bit on others, and the sum may help me to relax. Still, that nagging thought of going away pops in from time to time. I am not prepared to do anything right now, so I have to just maintain course and speed until some new development either changes things or I come up with an idea. In short, status quo. Everything else has been shut off. I will no longer initiate conversation with others nor will I ask questions. My silence will eventually cause issues and then those issues will compound. That is fine. I would rather be holed up with my brain and little world then out there where things develop out of thin air and cause a huge stink within society. A little rumor or tidbit of false information born of distaste or fear comes out of someone's mouth, spreads quickly like weeds on the side of the roadbed, and then everyone squares their shoulders and stands together as if something real is happening. They stomp, complain, and eventually turn in defiance of the 'establishment'. With large numbers of others by their sides, they feel correct. Thus, problem. I will not be anywhere near that. It's like some other planet where I am floating in the center of a large group as they meet over a subject in which I have no interest, yet cannot escape. They just keep going, feed off each other, and I can hear everything. I feel like that right now. Yes, there are good people with common sense and patience with everything, yet they are tucked away in the corners of the city doing their own thing. The ruffled feathers are out and about with mouths flapping like ducks learning to fly. Well, flap in another direction. Leave me out of it from now on. Thanks. You are all idiots anyway. Maybe one day you will realize it. Speaking of bitching... Heh. Today is Sunday and that means little chores here and there. No big deal. And now Monday morning. The little chores yesterday turned into loud music and lots of beer in the garage as I worked on a light box which had been sitting for who-knows how long. Something took place after all of the stress and anxiety the previous day. I found myself standing and wondering what to do with my time, and then decided I had listened to too much news throughout the last several weeks. So, the old phone was connected to the big stereo after I realized that my music account was canceled in an effort to reduce monthly expenses. Yep, I forgot about that one and simply commanded the Echo to play what I desired. All was well until I heard three songs in a row by the same artist and then a commercial. Well, not for me. So the phone played some mellow stuff as I milled around. A bit of laundry, some organizing here and there, after which I was wondering how long until cocktail hour. And that was roughly two in the afternoon. Ugh. And then a switch flipped to its other position inside my head. The mellow music was no longer going to cut the mustard. I altered the play list and began to feel a tad angry at the entire situation as it has developed since last month. The music became louder, imposing. The power tools came out of the cabinets and tool box. I ripped the wood, designed, and partially built a lighted platform for my big vodka bottles. After working for quite a while, I ceased and came inside for dinner. Those few hours represented the first time since the beginning of this current crisis that I have broken out of whatever shell had developed around me while considering the weight of recent events. After having been closed off to most of the outside world, I opened it wide with a deference and change in attitude the degree of which I had thought escaped me. I was forthright, decisive, and pushed my way out of that sad bubble and into a place of empowerment and joy. In short, I worked and lifted myself up and out of the fucking din for the first time in over a month. This morning I am already anticipating heading out there to attack the situation again. Outcome be damned, I am going to slam the issue and carry out what I wish. Fuck it all, as it were. Yesterday I turned everything inside out and I will not allow anyone or anything to change my world back. I suppose I became tired of feeling held back by the situation. I lashed, for lack of a better term, and pushed hard to enjoy myself and work off some stress. Well, that took me away and in the end I felt both accomplished and more in control of my reaction to what is taking place. After reading some tips for managing time and anxiety, I decided to lessen the amount of news coverage I had been watching and killed the social media for good. I do not need to know what is going on with others unless they are those I hold close. That outlet used to be funny and enjoyable but has morphed into a twenty-four hour bitch session with much of the content being in very bad taste. Well, goodbye to that and hello to my little world opening quite a bit. I am out of that cycle and into something better. Pissy, yes, but better.
The last several days and their pull upon me have influenced the idea of a getaway. I still need and want such a change, however remaining here a we have been instructed can be used to my advantage. The garage and music came in handy but I do not believe others are getting the message of my condition. Well, I shall try again today and with a tad more emphasis. Pointed words, short responses (if any at all), and a couple of steps away should help. Another morning. Wow, some of these entries are days in the making while others pop out quickly. The occasional long, continuing story-type entries waver all over the map and sit sometimes for months on end before seeing the light of publication. Funny. Whatever. I do not care anyway. I have not spent time in front of this editor for almost a week. Hmm. And this one began early. I could not sleep after being awakened by something beyond my control, but at least the hour was not ridiculous. Coffee, television (fiction, of course), and here I am. Later today a visitor is coming which means I will be out in the garage again getting things in order and working on the organization which never seems to go away or find completion. Oh, well, plenty of time, right? Weeks of it, for fuck's sake. I will sit here and work on this crap and eventually transition out there to get something going. Plenty has been done so far, and more is awaiting my attention. Plus, this morning marks one week since my brain had all that trouble and mixed up my stomach. That means I will slam the point once again. I don't care. The extraction from the norm shall continue, I will push forward, and in the end I may be better off for the effort. I need to streamline everything and make room for the incoming nothingness. I need it to happen. And it will, as I improve myself. The driveway will pay no mind. I am half looking forward to being out there again and half wondering if the situation might affect me like last weekend. I pushed pretty hard that afternoon, so perhaps keeping those feelings in mind can help me to remain ok. Perhaps. And I am still in a lousy mood. Not horrible, but unpleasant. Others will see. This has turned into a weblog of sorts. The stories are so far to the rear that I cannot imagine continuing until I can square away my brain. I will get there.
Issue four has been right there, just below the surface of every moment of the morning, and has become more tempting than in months due to the passage of so much time. Enticing, if you will. But I have done nothing thus far, and after days of thinking about the idea, I concluded yesterday that my feelings on the subject have changed (somewhat) for the better. I no longer feel the disdain and disappointment to the same degree as in years passed. The subject has become and experiment, a process of sorts, and I believe I can deal with it on a more accepting level from now on. Sometimes I spend too much of my day dwelling upon this, other times I am fine and can cease the analysis and relax. That massive book of images in my head that began filling some time ago is in charge sometimes and I need to keep in mind that as a person there are few wrongs when it comes to consideration of myself. Others do not know the depth of such places, and after the Raven I have not been able to reconcile my feelings well enough to learn much. I think of the issue, work out the best way to go about daily life as it affects me, and then make the best decision of which I am able. Considering the underlying circumstances, the help can be there without me thinking that something is wrong. Both Andrea and the Raven had very solid opinions and after long conversations on late, dark nights, I had been left with support never before felt so strongly. I have to respect the wishes of those women. I have to. Even sitting here with the editor on my lap the idea is there. Wow. As much as I have gone round and round with this entire subject for years, it is still fascinating and stirring like nothing before. But that is all for now. I have to stop this. End of line for a while. Unclear? Fucking deal with it. Not at this early hour, but soon. Mark my words. I experienced a dream earlier this morning that was very surreal. I cannot remember some of the details after being awake for more than an hour, however there are more memories of the images and thoughts than I normally recall on a given morning. Usually I realize that I was dreaming but remember nothing. Rarely do I retain any details, or at least enough to form a theory as to possible meanings. Today? Wow, it is fairly clear and in my brain right now. My partner and I were living in what seemed to be a converted storefront (likely due to working in something similar in recent years that I thought was really cool), and had the appearance of a music store. We had platforms here and there, lit from above, and each with a set of drums all shiny and unique. Apparently, one of them was the kit I regularly played. All of the art-like setups were toward the back and the space went around to the right as one approached the rear of the building. The remaining space toward the front/street was mostly empty, carpeted, and very clean. At one point I was heading to the door an overheard a child's voice asking of why we needed two loaves of some kind of bread that had been left at the entrance. At hearing that, I suddenly felt like we were very wealthy. And then I realized that I was in pajamas (very soft and plush), robe, and expensive Slippers. I strolled to the door, picked up both enormous loaves of bread, and stepped to the sidewalk where there was a table set up. I put the bread on the table and began to address some men who were standing opposite me. The bread seemed valuable beyond description, but I did not necessarily need it all. The scene reinforced the idea that I was rich. I told the guys to pick a number between one and ten and the closest to the number in my head would win one loaf. The guy on my immediate left stumbled a bit as if he had a speech impediment, and then blurted three... The lowest. My number was two, so I told him he won. The guy and the bread strolled off as he smiled. One of the others was irritated and felt the contest had been unfair and I could not console him before he hurriedly stepped away. I rolled back inside to find someone else there by the drums in the back. He was marveling as my partner dusted some wooden sculptures. I told him of the set that I played and he was amazed, telling me the whole place was really cool. And... Awake. No more storefront, drums, bread. All I could think about was the inkling that we had been somehow isolated and immune to what is currently taking place around the world due to being rich. I cannot clearly define the feeling now, but the child asking of our massive amount of bread combined with the manner in which I gave away some of it felt like we had been without much worry. It was strange, yet comfortable. And the drums caused me to awaken thinking of my own set of electronic percussion that is in the garage. That is nowhere near the same as those beautiful kits in the store, but an outlet through which I can practice, anyway. The whole thing relates to daily life on more than one level, especially now. I do not need to understand everything (and I do not have the education which might help process and interpret a dream), and some positivity came from it. Hmm. Here comes that uncomfortable feeling again. It washed over me and developed in the space of one hour. I do not like it at all. This is what drove me to becoming so angry last weekend. The day had better turn into something good or I will not react well. Not in the least. Plus, I saw the walnut girl again last night just before turning in and my brain is still devouring her at an alarming rate. Oy. At least Jamie faded a bit. The pool thongs? They had better stay far away from issue four right now. Funny? Kind of, I have to admit. Extraction. That is the title and the one word which describes my need to keep distance from the masses. The words fly, the booze will flow, and I will see where the day takes me."
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