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The Slipstream of Life

alert   Mature content     No. 196    Published December 28th, 2020 9:10am pst       read ( words)     Past entries

"12-21... More.

Brooke again. Like the caption says, I just can't help myself. Something about her eyes and smile just kill away parts of me every time. Just imagine... If an unclear still image can do so much to me, think of what takes place when she is on the television in full motion and clarity. Holy fuck. I just don't know what to think. Good thing her name doesn't begin with a 'J'. I wish that was funny. One of these days I will stop fucking gushing about these women. The thoughts which enter my mind are very unhealthy.

Well, I got off my ass and took care of a few things. I need to care for her, as well, because she is not well and must remain home and safe. I will likely go to the market later so I can secure a staple for afternoon cocktails, but other than that I'll be in the house. The weather is nice but we can't fucking do anything for enjoyment other than walking into the backyard. Ugh.

My stance is going to change today. I am beginning to feel that freeing myself of some items may actually be a good thing now. I can always use the funds, but honestly I have attached too much importance to little trinkets which sit and gather light to remain charged. A few must remain as they do hold memories, however. I've tossed things to the wind in the past and regretted it within days. I can't have that, although some can go. I honestly believe I'll be fine in the end. The downside is running out of shit to sell. That will be very bad. I have no wish to sleep under a bridge.

'Intus Diaboli' brought to the forefront my need to devour certain female individuals but there was no resolution, only identification and description. Right now I feel that the issue is going to expand greatly as it usually does during the holiday season. I know not why... Perhaps some gorgeous elf floating around in the back of my mind from years ago. The Christmas season is rife with references to holiday sex, too. As a child I was oblivious, but adulthood points to everything carnal sometimes. That devil will take me down in the future. It will. I know it as well as I know my own desires. [I just noticed the narrow, left column keeps changing size between pages. That is going to drive me mad. Damn it. I have to get rid of this fucking layout before I throw the machine to the street. Heh.] The devil will not let up and takes me right off my feet some days. I mentioned before that at times I stand frozen in the living room with nary a clue as to what to do, and the devil is similar. No concentration, no possibility, no direction, and a head full of everything unavailable save for that which I recall from the past. This is not good, but I did it to myself, just like everything else negative right now. My mind is moving at speeds comparable to the slipstream drive up there on the television, something against which I cannot push. Terminal speed? Soon. Don't forget about the fucking cherry on top of my depressive sundae... January the second.

Already drinking beer at just after half past eleven. Oy. Whatever... It's only beer.

I believe Brooke and Jolene were turning points. Brooke's characters on the Hallmark channel are radically different than anything in feature films. Yes, the woman is unique and I am quite certain millions of males and females lust over her appearance all the fucking time, but I do not feel anything so lightly. It's dire, as if seeing her causes more turmoil than a simple physical draw. And? Both of them are appealing due to the characters they have portrayed, not the actual actors. As I have stated in spades, I know nothing of the real people and never will. There is no place for such because I am just one small person in a tiny house with no real, tangible impact on the industry. I am just a person of no consequence with regard to film or television. Thus, the characters which have been captured for all time for anyone's enjoyment have become 'people' in my head. I have created situations that have evolved into entire worlds inside me. Like the dreams of being in the Trek universe (for real, dipshits), those two women are inside me for good. I cannot avoid the appeal of some manner of fantasy world in which there is involvement. Those mansion dreams in which I am constantly and relentlessly pursuing a woman are similar in that I never achieve contact nor do I realize that such a dream cannot come to fruition. Yes, this is all so fucking out of balance that I am surprised to be revealing everything, but compulsion has driven me to explore. Neither the Trek dream nor the mansions have yielded any fucking insight into what is wrong with me. I am still withdrawn, introverted, and in dire need of something with the ability to save my fucking life.

Enter the Goddamned machine.

One of them? Or perhaps as far as the visions of Jamie and her big, beautiful eyes? Of course. The machine has become the pinnacle of everything... Even moreso than the Trek issue. Now, I realize I've gone on at length about the advantages of a machine and I do apologize for belaboring something so ridiculous. But the pull is too fucking strong now. Everything which has taken place in the last three months has overpowered my ability to deal with life, and with 'the end of all things' incoming in less than two weeks, I seem to be narrowing and dreaming more than ever. There is one saving throw, but alas I cannot place that information here. nor can I say that it solves everything. This is so fucked up. Unbelievable... I went from an everyday, successful and intelligent person with people around me gushing the same, to a wretched, depressed soul nearly incapable of interfacing with reality.

Thirty-three thousand lines since Jaime, just in case anyone gives a fuck. The site has now surpassed in less than one year the amount of content built throughout the previous eighteen. Nice, huh? What am I?

Switchtrack away from my need to absolutely ravage those poor women. Damn it.

Football yesterday proved to be relaxing and shitty. Our team played well for some of the game, but the big moments caused too many errors and left us to lose again. It sucks, but I will watch them forever anyway. I am stuck with the home team because I love it. The game was so disappointing toward the end that we changed the television to our show and watched an episode. Difficulty? A little. That never goes away. But? Watching the episode is still easier on my fears than the games. Always, always, always... The fear grips me at some point and sometimes most of the fucking game. I ended up uncomfortable but cannot say a fucking word, ever. I am already in a deep enough hole over problems which are the fault of no one but me, so involving another soul in my soupy shit is not going to help anyone. The fear is hidden deep inside and others are not allowed access. Too difficult, too embarrassing, and just too fucking unbalanced. I will still watch, however, because as of yet I have not fallen down far enough to give up on my favorite sport. I simply have to fucking sit on it like everything else.

So far this day is not bad. Her being home is not a hindrance other than a voice present when I would otherwise be isolated from everything in the world. I completed a bit of business, too. I'll get back to the chores shortly, or whenever the drive to be here leaves me. The compulsion never ends, although at times I do lose my way and must close the machine. Hmm... Machine. Yep, always there in my head. Too much need.

12-22. Short days for the last week. Now we are going the other way. Fuck.

This is a Tuesday and I have no idea if she is going to work or not. If so, I will be driving both directions to help keep her warm. If not, another day like yesterday I suppose. I did work a little more on some things like the clothing rack, light switch, and I glued the windmill after soaking the pieces and cleaning. Another dream very early has me a bit confused now. I don't like weird sex dreams involving people with which I am not familiar, especially when they seem to know me. Ugh. I have to let it fade. Roughly an hour and I'll know if I am driving or not. No caring either way, really.

Time is rolling along too fast for me to keep up. I recall assembling the tree weeks ago and thinking we had plenty of time to enjoy it before the day. Well, 12-22. Here we go... The week which flies by so quickly that my head will spin. And then everything is done. A few years ago I really enjoyed December because there were a few less work days and festivities (some, anyway. Not like decades back) at home and usually at the bar, too. Everything is closed now and we really have no choice due to the dangerous circumstances, and I am feeling worse than during the Thanksgiving week. That is my favorite holiday and generally is bookended by enjoyable activities and lots of time to focus upon the games and atmosphere. Well, Thanksgiving is just four days shy of a month behind us. Splendid. This is all adding up to a very bad mood today. And just yesterday I was told that my behavior was that of someone preoccupied. I cannot disagree. There is now so much spinning inside my brain that I am surprised to be forming sentences in the morning. Between the end of the year, a lack of work, worry over finances, the disappearance of such a wonderful past and the memories piling up like molecules on the face of the slipstream, I am pretty fucking far down the hill right now. Everything is just too fucking fast these days, the technological leaps have gone away in favor of a handful of new trinkets which do everything, and the wonder is buried so deeply that I may never glimpse it again. All bad. And then the issues... What? The issues? Who gives a fuck anymore? I can sum that shit up in a cold second, people.

Preoccupied? That's nothing. I STILL will not spell it out, either. And I should not need to, anyway. Others would be better simply shutting their respective faces and leaving me alone to work on myself. Nothing coming from the outside will help, so stop it right now. I'll show the world preoccupation at a hideous level. Try me.

Slipstream slipping.

I am becoming angry again. Perhaps selling some of those other things will be easier if I remain pissy all day long. Hmm...

I believe the dreams and needs which push me to write sometimes are unrealistic, and a large part of that could be conversations from the past. Not long ago, just a few years. I broached a subject to test the waters of more than one relationship and learned that doing so is not a bad thing. Communication, right? Very important in nearly every part of life. Well, feeling that way meant I spoke my mind a bit to see what may develop. One situation went nowhere, one scared me quite a lot, while yet another only caused frustration and had me turning away from everyone. Unfortunately I have to be pretty fucking foggy with this shit or the information will come back and haunt (or kill) me. There are several deep subjects of which no one in the world is aware and they must remain that way. Back to the dreaming... Once I was told that there is nothing wrong with the manner in which I think. Clear terms, too. She knew that we are all different and in telling her of my inner thoughts I was revealing to her that my mind was open to anything either of us needed to say, and anytime. That was wonderful, for a while. Well, everything turns to shit and that period is no different. Unrealistic or otherwise, those three time periods and situations are gone for good. Now I just think about it and lament the loss of everything... Just like the time passing. More of it than I can handle right now. The Brunette was the initial conversation catalyst. We spoke on and off for a while, after which I felt that there was nothing unusual about covering such subjects so long as those involved care for each other. I don't know about that anymore because on one hand you have intimacy, and on the other? Function. They either mix fluidly or go all to hell, and there is no way of knowing in advance. She made it easy, though. Cut and dry. On or off. Binary, really. Soon after? That was that. Done for good. That is all I will say.

Yes, I am selfish. Hence dreaming of a woman who has no mind.

Avoiding specifics is becoming a problem, although I believe some time ago I expressed the idea of this helping me despite no one having a fucking clue as to what much of this means. I can't argue, really. I know what all of it is. Helping or not, the keys are clicking. Am I unfair? That is not up to me, but I do own this space, if that means anything. Making the entries available to the public is not a gesture toward anything, just an outlet. And since a few weeks ago, I cut it all off anyway. Eh... This paragraph does not matter now.

I was talking about leaving out details which make or break a point. Clarifying my subjects will only make me close off completely. Does that matter?

James Sloyan on the show this morning. He is fantastic.

My condition right now is such that the words may become more pointed than usual. I don't know yet, but I will say that my head is full of nothing good. The mood may force my hand. Part of me hopes otherwise, and part of me doesn't give half a shit. Fuck it, right? Let it fly? Spell it out? Ugh... I don't even know if I can. One idea which came to mind a few days ago was to write it out completely, organize the different subjects and leave nothing out, and then just sit on it in the background just in case. I could have it ready to go at a moment's notice or when I awaken like today... Angry. All of the details of the four issues (and then some) would finally be out there for all to understand. Clarity, to put it mildly. Hmm. Maybe I'll do that during this high-speed holiday season.

I think the aircraft are taking off using noise abatement procedures. Every few minutes I hear a rumble which can only be takeoff power from turbines. I love the sound because it brings me back to flying with my grandfather many years ago, especially the young years before I was old enough to drive. I loved it, and the time spent with him was always educational, both from the standpoint of the plane and of life itself. He was very wise. Years later during that time which is now so precious, his plane was still there for us from time to time, and that woman on my arm loved to see the world from the big windows on the fuselage. We did not fly often, but when we were able to take a short hop she really loved it, those bright eyes full of happiness and wonder. Just another aspect of life which has been shoved so far back that I can barely see the imagery. The 'now' is ruining everything.

Pause for the drive.



887



Back from the south with a good portion of my routine finished. Half past ten, as well. Not bad.

Now I'll head into the portion of the day in which I rarely know what to do. All I have these days are options in any direction I please. And time, too... Tons of time. Hence the mass of thinking each day. While some thinking is productive and helpful, often it descends into areas over which I have little to no control and then I fall off a cliff. This morning I am ok for the most part, but right there below the surface is trouble. Most mornings this will take place and I generally push it away and head into something different. Anything that has the ability to keep my mind occupied for a few hours is good. There is always plenty to do.

Thoughts of machinery and fulfillment are not good but take place nonetheless. I cannot help it these days. Pause.

The above statement regarding the middle of the day has set in nicely. I am at a loss. Two loads of laundry, a bit of straightening, and I am rudderless. The second of January is hanging over my head like a piano tied with too little rope. I had a snack, the show is on my big television, there are hours left before the afternoon drive, yet nothing available seems a good choice right now. I can work on anything, right? So why can't I move in any direction? That is correct... The next thought. Depression. Weeks ago I found the drive to get up and care for something simple. Now I don't see it. I am physically comfortable and as such I have lost the ability to move toward anything else. This is a huge problem. While it is true that I must remain away from others as much as possible for safety, inside the house I am free to do as I please. Or am I? And I did descend, as pointed out earlier. Just one more little notch down toward the soil. Splendid.

Velocity increasing.

Yesterday I milled around in the garage and ended up taking care of three small projects which are now complete. Today is a different story, however. Nothing looks appealing at all aside from pouring a cocktail and watching a movie. The time is halfway between one and two. Booze is not a good idea right now, but at the same time it seems ideal. I just don't know. Waiting until zero hour in the evening would be preferable, too. At that point I feel that it is more regular, for lack of a better term. The day is so foggy that I even had a hell of a time deciding upon lunch. Heh. Not funny. My instinct last night was to order a pizza but my good sense won over that and I chose to cook instead. A little while ago the pizza idea came up again, and even considering the sheer amount of comfort and joy involved in curling up with one of my favorite daytime meals, my brain chopped down the thought of spending money. After having fallen off the proverbial three-day wagon, I am not proud of myself nor do I feel deserving of anything that enjoyable. This entire day may need to be scrapped. I feel like shit for the millionth time. At least there is one positive: No more pull. That whole universe of thinking and action may be a self-fulfilling prophecy, and something which happens so I'll gain ammunition to dislike myself. The amount of history in that last statement is unreal, too. I know it well.

So, if I continue to sit here and ponder everything for the next few hours before driving, the only downside is a lack of accomplishment, even if everything is up to me each day. Maybe I can settle on that and leave it alone. Honestly, there is nothing wrong with working during the morning and then relaxing in the afternoon. For whatever reason I still often feel that I do not deserve it, but I am the only one. I've been told on countless occasions that my routine and methods are without issue. One hundred percent, in fact. I just keep grating against anything positive sent in my direction. Such is me, lacking plenty on the inside. Whatever.

Eh... Fuck it. I just made the decision to sit here until the drive and relax. I can work on this, list items for sale, or whatever strikes me. The caring is at a low point right now and is beginning to combine with the wall which is the end of the year. I can't stand the increasing sunshine and lack of anything toward which to look forward. The best parts of the year are nearly all in the rear view mirror. Pause.

Well, despite my thinking process being derailed for a little while, I actually feel a tad better this afternoon. Earlier I was very much in a deep hole, but as usual by this time of day I am more hopeful for the evening. The drive is now a Godsend of sorts as it can act as a dividing line between my morose day and the pleasant, quiet evening. I'll be gone for well over an hour in total, while awaiting her exit from work I generally research enjoyable things, and then we arrive home a while later and right at the outset of the dinner and relaxation hours. This is very good. Plus, I never dove into the cocktails (or even beer, which can be quite the draw in the afternoon) so sitting with a glass later will be that much more deserved. What a difference from only two hours ago. I find the feelings very interesting to say the least. One moment all the way at the bottom, and the next realizing that there is a saving throw versus my uncertain hours. Unbelievable.

My large drawing paper should arrive tomorrow. That will enable me to continue the days and situations of those two years in the Midwest... Comfort, imagination, dreaming of being somewhere secure and pleasant. I used to place myself inside the homes and picture how the world may appear from such a perspective. In contrast to many years of feeling as if there is nothing on the horizon due to my reckless and uncaring behavior, the drawings release all of that and push me to dream. Never a bad thing, not even someone with my difficult personality.

Do not be fooled: I am still angry and carrying a diminishing resolve with regard to other people. Everyone can go and fuck themselves in a frozen wasteland and then die. There you go. 'Acceleration' is a physical phenomena in both directions, both slower and faster. 'Deceleration' was only created for those minds unable to understand that acceleration indicates a change in velocity, period. The slipstream does not accelerate to the negative. Faster we travel toward oblivion. Chew that crap. Perhaps the harsh music on the ride home this morning just stuck with me. When I return south I'll change it to something more pleasant. Heh.

I can't believe what a huge difference the outside window shade has made these last many months. It reduces the harsh sunlight more now than in the beginning due to the threatening Winter angle. Just enough of a reduction to brighten my television and provide some separation to the outside world. Very nice. One of these days I will order blinds for the back door so the entire back half of the house can be darkened for movies. I have always been really fucking picky about the atmosphere of enjoying a film. I feel even more strongly about it now than past years, which is funny due to my avoiding newer mainstream films in theatres. Of course, the past was glorious considering the importance of the venue. Progress... But I've railroaded that already. The wheels rolled right over me, as always. Everything turns to shit. Even film.

Velocity increasing again. Stop.

12-23.

Today is Wednesday. Meaningless, other than the necessity for me to go out later for stocking stuffers and such. A couple of cards, too, I suppose. I have no wish to be empty handed on Christmas. That's it, though. No one else to shop for anymore. Everyone is either gone or behind a wall and we cannot visit. Such is this year... A pile of shit. I guess I'll venture out in a little while after the coffee is nearly gone. Yesterday I did indeed change the music for the afternoon drive and it made a difference. I went back to the film scores and the feeling was one of relaxation and wonder, just like seeing one of them in the theatre a thousand years ago when I was a person. Ugh... Don't get me started on that shit again. Anyway, we popped into the market on the way home and then arrived and settled in. Judging by the ant spray sitting on the hearth, I can assume something took place last night after I went to bed. I'll have to do some investigating later. I don't like them, but keeping everything out completely is virtually impossible.

God damn just a few days now. I am actually nervous about the passage of the year. Most people are probably dying to change the calendar after the shit which has taken place since twelve months ago, but I do not wish to see January begin... Ever. We should slip right across the pages all the way to September. This is not good. Everything is moving too fucking fast and making me very uncomfortable. Back in November I stated that the next several weeks had better prove pretty damned good, yet now look where we are. Those weeks are gone and I don't even know what happened. Unbelievable. And then a flash of Leeta and her big, round breasts. Nice. Oh, Leeta... Don't get me wound up this early, please, you gorgeous slice of goofy. Those eyes drive me to think of Michelle and her micro-sized brainpower. I know Chase is an intelligent woman, but honestly you'd never know by watching her portray Leeta. Damned cute. Almost criminally cute.

Too fast, damn it. Just over a week. I have nothing to look toward, no prospects of any kind, only the small auctions and their excitement. Some agreeable meals? Yeah, they have always brought comfort. And speaking of meals, we are going to the goddess' house tomorrow for an early dinner in celebration of Christmas Eve. I am the one who flipped the fuck out weeks ago and said I would never be in the same room with the two of them again. Am I making a mistake? Was I the problem and not them? Probably. So, in the interest of good and sound foreign relations, I am going to be very quiet (which is not easy on such a holiday) until something is asked of me. Other than being questioned, I fully intend to watch the dynamic from a distance. If I have truly been the problem for the last couple of years, this new event will reveal the trouble. That was not easy to hear but I am not above criticism. Others must be pretty patient, too. I can be a handful. I don't know what to expect over there tomorrow, either. The last holiday over which we shared dinner was a year back and went very well. As usual, was all stuffed up and could not taste my tacos. No matter, though, as I was pleasant toward them anyway. Christmas Eve last year was very nice. Hopefully I can keep my head together this year.

Something slammed my head last night -- a memory flash for an instant -- but has faded overnight. I don't recall exactly what the scene would have been because it left me too quickly. Family, or something similar, during the holidays, I believe, but I can't bring it up now. Something about my grandfather, maybe. This has been happening a lot lately, little moments which enter my head after some kind of catalyst or image, and then I try to remember later but everything runs away like a dream. Right now I just don't know. When I see something from the past like that it drives me down a little. I can't help it. I have been slowly and agonizingly reduced to the type of person who has realized that there was much good back then and I did not see it all. That's right, folks... I see it now. All of it. And I am talking about more than the four years which shine above all things, too. I am referring to perhaps a decade or more. I am now one of those idiots who sees the gold after the doors have been shut. What a fucking moron I am. Nice.

The little flashes of memory come and go here and there and I have no control over them. Just a part of life, I suppose. Reminders or what-have-you. I'm sure everyone experiences such things. I have to try remembering or maybe taking notes the next time it happens (although I do jot things down in the Google Docs sometimes because they are always with me) and that way I can bring them here to explore and perhaps tell a story or two. Learn something? Me? Um... It's possible. I fucking doubt it, though, because I am the champion of pushing things away and grating against sense. I just wish to remember, that's all. For me.

Not all is lost right now. I have to keep in mind that I still have options and the end of the year does not need to be the end of the fucking world for me. I made it through many other calendar changes since feeling this way, and this is one more. And I should keep in mind that I am not experiencing the bliss of the past, however I do not need to return to a job I dislike after the new year begins. Heh. I will still be here, for as long as necessary. All I'm saying is at this very moment I am sitting here with morning coffee because of the little things which always seem to come along and bring me a sliver of hope. They will continue, too. So, the end of next week may need to be considered a door, the other side of which I partly know. Maybe I can just look at that first day (the fucking second one on the calendar) as a project in and of itself? Good idea? We shall see. The alternative will doubtless end up here full of profanity.

And... Today. No driving other than the aforementioned store later, and that adds up to free time once again. Part of that will be an investigation of the little fucks who apparently came into the living room last night. Laundry, some more images of things to sell, you know. Speeding along... Tomorrow will be here in a few seconds because the slipstream will not let up. Fuck me, but today must be something good. The garage is in much better shape as compared to months ago, and I can keep that going. Empty space is very nice these days after years of clutter. All my work is paying off nicely.

I took a look around to find that she had sprayed some stuff near the back wall of the living room but there do not seem to be any around this morning. I saw maybe two or three and ran the Swiffer across most of the room when I first came out here. Since then, nothing. But their entry location is a mystery, unless they are under the house, in which I need to keep my eyes all over the place today. God knows where they may enter next. Cleaning will be on tap again, just like after the last time. When everything is wiped down, they have no target for scent. A little at a time, I suppose. Maybe I'll go to the store tomorrow morning instead so I can remain here today. Hmm. A couple of months back I really stocked up on the Swiffer refills, both wet and dry. They work so well that I am not terribly concerned. I do have the orange oil, too. I guess she couldn't find it during the night, hence the other stuff. I believe the orange oil perimeter which I applied days ago did not last as long as I had hoped. I can lay down another treatment, focusing upon those places where I've seen them before. The borax powder arrived the other day which means I can make some stuff they will like and take back to the colony. Borax is unbelievably effective in such a manner. One tablespoon can destroy thousands. I have no love for them, so the harder cocktail will be placed outside today. A project, and one which is very compelling as I wish the inside of the house clean at all times.

I hope the slipstream does not end up faster than light. Not good. I am slipping, but the velocity has slowed somewhat for the time being. Just let me get through the next few days... Please. And yes, the slipstream is a trailing phenomenon. Why do I title this entry with it? Because the slipstream effectively helps to reduce the energy required for maintaining speed (like my swift downfall) and is represented by the past pushing me into places I do not wish to visit. There you go. The past is helping me to fall down. I cannot avoid it. There can be no arguing of the physics, and though I have related a physical phenomena to my movement throughout so many years, the truth is the analogy works.



888



Holy Jesus fuck, this episode. The woman is so lovely that my typing becomes derailed when I see her beautiful eyes. Yep... I have not changed one iota since the outset of Jaime's images. I am exactly the same with regard to visions of loveliness. Weak, helpless, frail. And she is the same actor as the other show when I gushed about the most beautiful blonde women on television and film. Still the top of the list, along with Brooke, although Dey is much, much older. No matter. And thank the maker I am not seeing the third. Damn. The third blonde is frozen in time anyway.

Almost time for me to open for business. That means the garage door up, beer cracked the minute I run out of coffee, and my attitude adjusts accordingly. I am still angry underneath all the other shit. Too much has changed since the beginning of the year. The others leaving me by the side of the road will never be forgiven. I have seen increasing evidence that they have been gathering from time to time (quite often, actually), and I am still bereft of contact involving said gatherings. Oh, there have been a couple of them reaching a little, but the underlying realization that leaving my job is still a problem for one person in particular. Well, my shit attitude reflects all of that, along with my place in the world as defined by the past. Everything added together means I am less pleasant than a month ago. Just imagine what I'll be like after the end of next week.

Lucky fucking Rene gets to kiss one of the most beautiful women to ever walk this earth. Crap.

Yes, pissed off and closed off. So, I will expand my little world, ignore the others as much as is feasible considering I cannot fight the progress of technology, and try to embrace all which brings me peace. I really do not have many options these days. Improving the house, keeping after the selling, driving south when I feel it, and then relaxing and taking pleasures when I can. That is all. And other than venturing south to drive her to work, I will be here spouting about everything.

Do you see the digital girls? Half-real, at best. Machinery, to be sure. Don't fucking get me on those rails again or I'll never stop. I see no other way these days, and to combine that with all the shit in the previous paragraph means the anger is ever-increasing. Uphill in the worst way. Almost nine in the morning. One of my favorite parts of any day. Despite my pissy fucking mood, I still enjoy this time of morning when the sun begins to hit the backyard.

12-24.

Another day melted away like ice on a summer sidewalk, and here I sit twenty-four hours later. Just like yesterday, coffee is to my right, the cat is just over my left shoulder, a Christmas movie is playing up there on the television, and I have very few good feelings. The day went alright yesterday. I had to do some cleaning after the little guys were discovered the night before, usually fearing another highway being built while I am not paying attention. I moved the furniture around and cleaned, after which I put my show on both televisions and dove into the routine after she left for the city. A while later the Goddess came to visit and we watched a couple of episodes. Evening set in, some dinner (which I did not taste one bit), and a few drinks before sleep. Now I am sitting here and I have no idea what yesterday was. Not a clue. I accomplished some stuff, but still feel like the day went by in a matter of seconds. I don't like this very much.

Very windy outside. There is no light yet, but I can hear it. Oy.

And then today... the Eve. Dinner at her house later, I have to go shopping for a couple of things, and maybe do a few chores here at home. I don't know. Notice came yesterday regarding an extension of funds since the outset of the pandemic and that is very good. I will not have to worry about anything for quite some time now, and even the state has recognized companies are not hiring -- quite the reverse. So, I am going to remain here at home for a few more months and do what I can. Between the notice in my mail yesterday and the funds coming in from selling, I feel a little more comfortable than just two weeks back. I know I can hold things together better. I am still going to sell more, though. There is little reason to stop now. Dinner later will prove to be a massive test for me, but not the others. Just three of us and still we will be on the edge of breaking the guidelines. Between the little shopping trip and some preparations for dinner, my morning is going to be shortened. The feeling now is I will blink and find myself right here on Christmas Day, just as I am at this very moment.

Bridget Regan up there in stunning clarity. Hmm... I never was able to decide if she is really beautiful or just interesting. I just don't know. Dark hair and blue eyes. Something more is there, but I have not the first damned clue. Like the days rolling by, she will leave the screen and I will feel nothing. But the blonde who just appeared out of nowhere? I'd like to... Um... Never mind. Eh... Bridget is fading and never even materialized into anything in the first place. Whatever. My brain couldn't process a fucking first-grade math problem right now anyway. She is pretty damned tall, though.

Some light outside now. Not much, like the gloaming. I'm looking forward to returning from the shopping trip later as the very idea of going out among other people is rather scary these days. Once home, I can wrap and relax, get my daily things out of the way, and then prep the casserole for later. I need to keep my head out of certain areas this morning as the pull is there, a little. I shouldn't have a problem as long as I change the fucking channel pretty quick. One of the Ashleys is on now in a movie and looking very different than on the Hallmark channel. Hmm... Gorgeous beyond belief and dressed more provocatively. But something is wrong there. This film is several years older than the roles in holiday movies. Well, after a bit of searching, I learned that she had some work done on her face years ago. Very interesting, because this is the first time I've seen her prior to said work. She looks even more beautiful back then. Unbelievable. Why would she do that? The movie is a pile of shit, though. I only tuned for a few minutes to see her lovely face, and then saw a person I almost didn't recognize. More skin, too, but that's not what I was after. Wow... A woman so freaking gorgeous and she changes herself at a young age. I do not understand, but the process was up to her. What was I saying before seeing her? Ah... The morning. More light now and almost time to get up and ready her stuff. No driving until next week, and only if I feel like it.

Jesus fuck was she ever stunning. What I wouldn't give to...

More light now. In a little while I'll have the house to myself, at which time I can prepare gifts and such. The casserole will be last. The tree is to my right, glowing with our goofy layered lighting. It's not the prettiest tree this year, but alas we used what we had on hand. I believe three years passed since setting it up in the living room, too. That is nearly unacceptable considering those years seemed more fulfilling due to life being more 'regular'. What does that mean? You know... Steady work, the world prior to the health crisis, and the season being open for gatherings and other Christmas festivities. This year the days of old have slammed me more than usual due to everything being so different now. I see the family dinners and lights, trees lined with many gifts, and the excitement of knowing my favorite time of year would not disappoint.

12-25.

Well, morning again on one of my favorite days of the year. Last night the dinner went very well, no arguing or threatening or posturing by yours truly. We really made it work. All three enjoyed the food preparation and then dinner afterward. Everything turned out nicely done, too. The only downside was I did not make the casserole because two of the main ingredients are full of gluten, which is a no-no for the goddess. She made stuffing, though. The whole thing was nice, right down to cocktails and music afterward. Very nice... And to think I was worried. After realizing that I am most of the problem most of the time, the evening went smooth as glass. Nearly. Heh.

Out in her backyard enjoying a cigarette both before and after dinner was a fucking trial, only for me. Those two both wore tight pants and beautiful blouses showing off all the curves. I stood there for minutes simply trying to wrench the carnal combinations taking place inside me. Both of them looked amazing and sexy as hell, leaving my brain to picture all manner of situations involving double the details. As many times as I have felt intimidated by more than one woman, last night it felt perfectly natural. There was no worry, only dreaming of both of them all over me. Like machines? Yes, exactly. Two mouths, four hands, and do as I wish, please. All those breasts all over the place. I don't even know if I could handle something like that as it has not come up in conversation for a decade, and when it did I was scared to death. Last night I simply needed the attention. Machines... Period. As the evening wore on, my brain could barely avoid staring at two asses. I had to force myself over and over. In the end? No problems. We left for home and I went to sleep.

Machines again. Don't say it.

Today is one of those in which we generally stay home all day and relax. The goddess may visit this afternoon or evening for holiday cheer, though. My brain will probably have both of their pants off before the first toast, if yesterday was any indication. Damn it. This morning is no peach, either. Issue four is right there waiting for me to be weak, but I will not let it happen. Tomorrow all will be better for a while. Anyway, all threesome sex aside, I plan to embrace the time for relaxing and taking care of small items. Perhaps I will advance the auctions, too.

The situation last night was a result of all those many years with little satisfaction and lots of pain. I need not go into it again, but suffice to say as of this very moment there have been few occasions in which my mind and body were operating together. A few. I didn't want to head in such a direction this morning, but alas I am pretty fucking upset about the whole thing. There is no way to predict how one person would react to the ideas that develop inside me when things are heated up like last night or this morning. I could not say what may take place but the downside could be horrendous for my position in life right now and would ruin much of what I have tried to build for years. So, I keep everything inside and end up like this... Dreaming, dissatisfied with everything, and frustrated so much that the need becomes critical to my survival. If I fall down and relent to the feelings? My brain ends up worse. Nice, huh? This is what a lack of fulfillment has done to me throughout a long period of time, combined with the chronic trouble I cannot eliminate. I have to say that considering everything summed I am doing pretty well for the most part. I could have been gone by now after years of misunderstanding, being insulted, hurt, worried... All of it. I am extremely proud of myself one day and all the way down under the soil the next. I need what I need, period. No one seems to understand, so there is no result.

The day is underway. Coffee, presents (our little version of Christmas due to being pretty thin on the finances), and some relaxing. I have not the first damned clue as to where my head will be by close of business, but right now it is still floating inside the clothing of two very different women. Ugh.

I'll have to spend a little time taking care of the house today. I do enjoy the time being wide open to whatever I feel must be cared for. This is that kind of day. Other than some brunch in a little while, we don't have anything slated for the next many hours, and I really must keep this day in mind, too. Stories of past holidays last night really took me off my feet, although they also derailed my need to strip those women and fondle. The old stories were many between the three of us, as well. So, today being the center of the universe for the holiday season, I'll reflect and enjoy the decorations as much as possible. Hmm... I believe selling more stuff will indeed be on tap later. I have to slow the velocity more and pulling in some extra money is one method. Things are moving too damned fast right now. The last four weeks feel like an hour. I don't like it one bit.

For whatever reason, everything always seems to look different on Christmas Day, as if the whole world recognizes the holiday and some external, otherworldly force takes affect to brighten everything. Even the idea of organizing in the garage or the boring simplicity of sweeping the floor looks better because of the date. I don't get it, but have always felt this way. The day is young, too, meaning I can see the glow of all the little things while going about my day. I plan to begin all that crap after I run out of things to say here. Heh... Does that ever happen?

The threesome sex and all it could provide is fading, thank fucking Christ. I don't need any more of that spinning around and forcing me to stumble mentally every time I have to think. Very good. Hopefully it will be gone soon because the possibility is about as remote as me winning a huge lottery jackpot and living as I please (need, really). It's going... Slowly.

This film really pulled me in nearly thirty years back, and right in the middle of 'those' years. We watched it after renting, I believe, or possibly after moving across the country. Now that I think about it, the year may have been later than my recollection. Either way, it's good and reminds me of the period when I may have been most at peace in life. Last night I didn't really bring up that period very much because other events from my younger years took priority. My family was not exactly functional on any loving, caring level, instead finding reasons to debate and eventually yell at each other. Not every year, mind you, but many. The stories are often both funny and scary, depending upon the holiday. Sometimes the films bring me to the year they were released, and then I travel back there and actually begin to compare those times to the current period. This is not a good idea, ever, because the past always seems to shine brighter the further back it goes. I know it all too well. These days there is not much in the world looking prosperous and bright, so the past -- no matter how glorified it may have been -- appears that much better. Things are pretty fucked up right now and I know how ignorant of the future and world problems I have been, too. This time I know the score, but still my head goes back there and weeps for the period.

I'm going to need to close this soon. I guess no getting it to production today. Damn, but no matter. No one is allowed to read anyway. Heh. Just me.



889



I can't get the doubling of everything completely out of my thoughts this morning. It's just too compelling, and other than that night sleeping between those two women, this is one of the few occasions in which I dream of the possibility. Lingerie, breasts, legs, mouths. All over me. Damn it, I have to stop this and get away from everything for a little while or I will most definitely implode. I cannot let four get the best of me. The funny thing? She is sitting right next to me at this moment yet has no idea that I wanted herself and the goddess to be my playthings last night. Fucking hell, anyway. I might be completely screwed for the rest of my life.

Switch... For the love of God just switch it off.

Back to this day. I have to keep busy, I suppose, for pushing all that shit far away. The garage for a little while, the auctions, and maybe some organization in the house. I'm glad I don't need to go anywhere, too. The way my brain feels after the last few days, hiding out in the house is preferable to seeing anyone. More of that fucking evidence was revealed that I have been intentionally left out of those small gatherings in which a circle had formed throughout the course of years. I saw images which were not meant to advertise the fact, but the background told stories. I still believe leaving work was the main catalyst, yet that was only related to one person in particular. If the feelings I dredged by leaving my job spread to the others, that is not my fault, although I guess the fact doesn't matter because I can't do fuck-all about it now, anyway. Too many months of silence have passed. The way I feel these days? If I never pass the first traffic signal to the north from here again, it's fine. Perfectly fine at home. None of my issues can be solved anywhere else in the world, so here I sit for the duration.

And I am still sitting here.

12-27.

Oh boy yesterday started out cozy, moved into worry and discomfort, and then rolled right over me as if I hold no control over anything in existence. The critters were handled, dinner was made (took lots of time, though), and some nice cocktails in the evening rounded out what should have been a better day, although I know not what I can do different while being pulled out of my mind. Overall, not too bad.

Some things I am completely sick of just keep coming back. Like the slipstream, they are out of my reach as far as finding the ability to make effective changes which can help me to either feel better about myself or provide a brighter future. I don't know what to do. These last weeks since before driving to the high country have been productive from more than one standpoint, yet I keep feeling as if the world is ending... Everything is running out like those empty store shelves. There can be no scheduled restock of my life. The truth is that nothing is all that bad right now. I have evidence that my world is fine and my head is the problem, yet to get past that and actually feel better and more positive seems impossible. There has to be something else up there with its foot on my neck. I just don't know what it is. Yesterday we discussed the idea of God taking action against people, but that is a reach. He does not operate in such a manner. He only loves. And then the big hand? I had that one tossed at me, too. I don't know if the word is real or just another conjured idea to help people understand a world which makes no sense sometimes, or possibly to add an element of structure to the otherwise haphazard nature of events. There is no knowing, for sure. As such, I have no fucking idea, either. I keep speculating and wondering if there are forces at work helping or hindering individual efforts. Again... No idea. Maybe I am wasting my time trying to figure out parts of life which have no answers.

One other facet which comes to mind from time to time is the idea that if I do not have faith in anything, there can be no solution. Trying comes with faith, too, but I have none. No faith. I find it difficult to place mine in something which only malfunctions, and the technical parts of me need to see tangible reasoning behind whatever others may believe is the truth. Well, I have always been skeptical about anything related to faith, and despite my mention of God here and there (not the swearing, either), I merely add the presence as a frame of reference and something which provides a buffer between myself and the remainder of society. Faith, indeed. I wouldn't even know how to begin. The hour is late and I am tired of searching for reasons. None of that now.

After all of the possibilities, I am left right where I began... Trying to figure things out on my own. No one else can offer anything helpful because I am too difficult. They begin a conversation or I make a comment that spawns the discussion and then I shut it down fairly quickly.

Jessica up there again with her big everything.

A minute shy of seven and still mostly dark outside. We are on the uphill, though, ever since the twenty-second. I do not like it one bit, and to add insult to injury, six more days and the world ends. Not good. I have to focus upon today and things I can do to further myself for the future. She is going to the city for a little while which means the goddess and I can watch our show today. I also want to take care of the usual stuff that ran late yesterday. I don't like my schedule being goofed up, although this time the reason was our football game being played on a Saturday instead of Sunday. That screwed up my routine but I didn't have a conniption over it. I did what I could and then pushed the rest out for today. There is Jill Wagner again. I'm still trying to figure out what my eyes are seeing when she's up there in full clarity. It might be facial features like Tricia, but I'm not certain. She's older than a good portion of the other female actors on these channels but also more beautiful. Whatever. I'll never figure out anything. As for this day, I fully intend to have shit in order by evening. I like the feeling of accomplishment, especially on garbage day.

Slipstream switch to hours ago. A dream.

I was on some construction site at the trim stage. Much of the work was finished, but like most sites the place was a huge mess. Everyone was gone as it felt like a weekend. There was a woman with me and I knew her. We seemed to be working together on little details while the house was empty of other people. I liked her and wanted to be close -- like always -- but kept my head in the work. We were following instructions for something complex, at the same time moving around the big space to see what else had been left unfinished. I kind of felt as if I was important there, like more than just another worker. Outside the back of the house and beyond the garage was a van parked with all our tools and stuff, and it was partially beat up from a fender bender. Just as we began to discuss the damage, one of my friends pulled up in an old two-door sedan and smiled. He then stated the van was just fine and bent the metal back to where it was supposed to be. And then back into the house to find some hardware for whatever I was building. I kept seeing her there next to me and wanted to say something but the fear of embarrassing myself won out. And then awake.

Jill is wearing one of the worst outfits I have ever seen on this channel. Hideous. She deserves better, for crying out loud. Her face is one for the ages. Ah... Better. A change of scene. Speeding along to wherever this stream is taking me. I don't like any of it. I may be on a road with no turns.

No live auctions right now. The last one ended on Christmas and was shipped yesterday. I ended up too busy with preparations for dinner and such for the two holidays. I'll have to get moving again. The idea of following the passage of time while they are live is something I've always enjoyed. Kind of exciting, I suppose. There are still several decent-valued things which can go out the door and I'll reap the funds. The action gives me something to do and adds some wonder to these days that have been all running together. One bleeds into the next, and without the enjoyments I have little to go on now. More stuff out the door is never a bad thing.

I didn't really have a problem watching half the game yesterday. My head was already partially messed up when I received a call informing me that there was a small invasion in the living room. That put a damper on my day for a little while (mainly before I arrived home a short time later). I can't stand having to constantly keep my eyes all over the place, and lately there has been reason to be on edge all the fucking time. So, in addition to my ever-increasing insecurity and failings pushing me into the soil, I was nervous about coming home to find a mess. Well, there was none, but I did some cleaning anyway in order to ensure comfort for the afternoon and evening. I ended up not even watching any more football, as well. I went back to the usual comfortable television so I could be in that little cocoon again. I needed it. The idea of watching part of the game and not running into anything difficult is not a situation with which I am accustomed. Usually one thing or another slaps me and hangs on for a few days before fading. I've written volumes on the subject, and mostly in the last several months since the season began. Now there are but two Sundays left before the postseason begins. Everything flies by too quickly and I hate it. The upside of not having trouble watching is not worth the whole shitaree coming to an end. I need this time of year and it is burning away at high speed. Our tree is still glowing to my right, too. It will stay maybe two more weeks. Once down, the idea of football ending and the clock increasing its choke on my throat will be evidenced more strongly. I believe everything which has transpired for days added together kept me from being worried over the game. If someone would have told me a few months ago that my head would be fine during a pro football game, I never would have believed it.

Slip, Slipper, slippy-ree slipster stream. Slipping, like my hands on the monkey bars of life. Some of this probably seems funny and lighthearted. I can assure you it is not. I do not laugh much anymore because I see the end of the road almost constantly. Go ahead and laugh to yourself. I have no control over that either.

I might crack the beer and blare some harsh music later. That always makes me feel about a half inch taller. Heh. Kind of funny. There is only apparent and temporary power these days. Any boost feels good. My lack of control over many aspects of the average day is bothering me more now than even two weeks ago. Sometimes I end up angry and things get moved around, while other times I just sit here and wallow, bitching up a storm all over the site. That accomplishes nothing aside from helping me to avoid blowing up at someone who is usually undeserving of my shit. That is a good thing.

I'll take care of work today without issue. I can already feel the strength to push everything out of my way. The world is so radically different from this time last year that it still feels surreal. Damned near every commercial is related to the pandemic in some way, or at least appears different after the company has adapted to the new day-to-day life. This is weird, and last night I was talking about this period of time since March being the strangest, most stirring event in my more than fifty years of living. Many years from now we are going to be telling the young generation stories about the world. Caring for the house, organizing, cleaning, and doing my general daily garbage crap seems so easy when I put everything into proper perspective. If there are people around the world on ventilators and barely clinging to life, I had better not bitch about spraying ants or taking out the fucking trash. Do you see how I did that? I can still bitch about other things which have no solution in the present, but the simple tasks are not a part of them. Perspective, period.

Still drinking coffee and enjoying the quiet. I put the news on (which is rare these days) to get a handle on the state of things. Considering the pandemic and restrictions, it behooves me to watch sometimes and try to be in the know, I suppose. Before this whole thing expanded into a worldwide crisis, I almost never watched the news because it was all bad. Now? I have to keep up. Too important. Plus, I learned much from watching during this period. Again, just too important. And I find it funny how this space went from an outlet for my obsession to a daily diary of feelings. Very interesting, I think.

Speaking of issue one (the king at one point), I noticed that every form fades more quickly now than years ago. I still see them and fall down sometimes, but nothing really kicks me in the face like when I was working. I am different now. The visions are the same and will always be there, but the manner in which I process everything has changed to the point of them almost holding no control over me. Be it the crisis, my clinging to memories and missing everything or possibly something else, I have let it go somewhat. There might be a better understanding present of which I was not aware in the past. I am not certain. Another thought is the idea that what I have needed for so long now seems even more fictional. Machines, dreaming of situations that cannot happen in real life, or learning to deal with the forms in ways I did not know how prior to finding the world situation more important than my little problems. There will always be those women either on the screen or out in the world which make me dream and fall due to a lack of understanding. No denying them. Always... They will be there. My head might be in a better place now after all of the exploration. The obsession feels lessened, somehow. Look at the low-quality image of Brooke the first just below this section. I couldn't find a better version anywhere. And yes, I realize her mouth is huge, but that is only a small part of that stunning woman's allure. She has grown in importance unlike any other in recent memory, and I believe the reason is a combination of the sweet characters she portrays and unique beauty. Brooke is like a collage of everything I have found physically attractive for two decades. When she smiles? My heart leaps. Naturally I also wish to slather my mouth all over her skin, as well. I just can't help myself. Ugh... Onward with the slipstream.

Two? Still a problem, but again... Manageable most of the time. That one can still send me flying, though. It nearly did yesterday afternoon, believe it or not, and I initiated the conversation out of nearly nowhere. I don't know why I did it, but the reason could be the idea of prying into a fear. The situation cooled in mere minutes and we left it alone. I know I can speak of it with her, too. I know it, but can't do it most of the time. And considering the depth of her understanding of how my mind works, I should not be worried in the least. This will happen again and I'll splay it all here.

Wow would I ever love to jump in the car and get the fuck out of here for a little while. Unfortunately, the whole world is just like home these days... Closed, restricted, or otherwise unavailable. Years ago I went as I pleased. Now there is nowhere to hide unless I head into the desert and pitch a fucking tent. Not a good situation at all. I feel marginalized. At least I am not the only one.

Jesus fucking Christ this girl on the AAA commercial. I could perform experiments on her. Damn.

Still lots of bad news.

I've lost track of the subject stemming from this title. Maybe from now on I should simply date the entries so I can waver all over the place and not worry about structure. All of my grammar and composition training seems to be falling by the wayside lately as I continue to try making sense of myself.



894

I can't fucking help it



I wish that image of Brooke's smile was of better quality. Damn, but she is still amazing to see. I was just hit with a recollection of gushing over Sara and Allie way back at the beginning of this new world. They are both gorgeous, but these days I rarely see them anymore because I've avoided the weekday morning news. To be honest, the sweetness in their faces made me feel guilty for thinking of beauty. That may have had a hand in my avoiding the broadcasts. I think Allie won that whole thing anyway. Her big, doe eyes took my breath away, and then shortly thereafter I wished to devour her labia. Not good, people. Not fucking good at all. Now I am back to feeling bad for the desire. Sara, too. I have to be respectful.

Perhaps one more cup of coffee before I rise and work. I want to have things done before the goddess visits so I don't have anything hanging over my head. I am all over the place these days. I write thoughts and feelings, try to collate them and express in such a manner which can be related by others, but then I look at the finished product and realize that I am only rambling most of the time. There are no rules, though. Nothing wrong with how I express myself here, really. It's my place, right? Eh... Structure is not so important these days because this is not a story. Just a bunch of parts of my inner self tossed to the keyboard.

What was I saying? Ah... The work.

All the things I need to do in caring for the house and daily life seem very simple now. I think I was placing too much emphasis on details and the idea of getting away from this, as the words here can be harsh and difficult. Well, typing this crap is not the end-all be-all of life. It is tertiary, and merely an exploration of me which is performed by choice. The fact is that sometimes I do find it difficult to get out there and work, but the bottom line is not my inability to find motivation. It is the near-constant belaboring of my lovely past and negativity while writing. None of this has anything to do with the fucking work. So, I can shove the shit to the rear and feel good about damned near any chore which requires attention. Honestly, I often feel that I can accomplish anything, so the daily chores then seem tiny and so simple that my head successfully wraps them in the same. And then they are done and I go further, like the auctions, the projects which sat for a long time, or anything else I see or have seen sitting idle. A left turn off the freeway many years ago was very appealing -- meaning my diversion from the norm -- and now I am doing it weekly. A different, simpler turn, yet still one resulting in self-pride. No worries about the work. Not anymore.

Wait... What? Am I being positive? Don't get your fucking shorts in a twist. I am still me, fuckers.

Pause, I guess.

12-28... The first Monday after Christmas, and the initial notch down after enjoying a long lead-up to the holiday and our decorations having been on display since the day after Thanksgiving. Now the time is short. Very short. I do not like this at all. Like I said about those weeks which are now gone, the next few days had better be pretty nice. Or else.

She is not working today, meaning I will do my usual routine and relax here and there. But I need more... Much more. After seeing shots of shopping malls on the news throughout the past month (mostly chronicling the drop of in-person sales due to the state of the world), I just saw another from near home. Something flashed into my head... A combination of discovering a watch brand some years ago while shopping south of here, and the visits to a couple of different malls many years ago with my dad as he did some last minute shopping for my mom. He always went just a day or two before the holiday. It was mostly a feeling, and the watch brand turned out to be no big deal, but the situation and where I was at the time were anything but trivial. We used to go out sometimes just to look around, whereas now we don't go anywhere at all. And the trips with my dad were during a time of discovery, when everything was bright and full of possibility. There seemed no limit to what may come next. I've written about the same feeling before, but now we are just three days after Christmas, and after everything hit me in the face during the weekend, culminating in my learning that what I fear on the road ahead is real and will be here in less than a week whether I like it or not. Wow... This whole paragraph turned into a fucking cluster.

I expressed feelings about shopping during those four years, and mostly we just wandered around at the time due to not having much money to spend, but honestly the memories which come up are filled with smiling, hand-holding, and lots of sweetness while we walked. It wasn't the mall, but that place did end up our destination of choice most of the time because of the store choices, plus she was a big fan of the entire area, just as I. We were over there weekly. I've gone on at length regarding the domes and the surrounding blocks so I will refrain for the time being, but understand that the importance of those places and the time cannot be overstated. Comparing the current time and place is not fair due to so many changes since last spring, too. I will not sit here right now and berate what we have done in eight years because there are so many differences that the effort would be unfound. The fact is that I do have good memories since that time three decades back. No denying it. And between then and now there were other periods of enjoyment in different locations which will remain as positive memories. I can't focus upon one period and spout that it was my only happy time. And while I do see everything from this late date as I look back, it still stands out due to the idea of promise, and not something particularly tangible.

The news just reported that some of James Doohan's ashes were smuggled aboard the ISS in his honor so they can be in orbit of earth. That effectively slammed the in-between period when I was involved with the space program right back into me and reinforced those occasions of shopping during said decade. Three different locations, too. Unbelievable. Thanks, guys. Now I feel worse.

Where was I? Ah... The shopping way back in time. I guess the stream went in reverse, or perhaps the title is now meaningless.

I don't know how this began, and at the same time I am trying to collate a pair of dreams this morning, one of which is fading quickly and I doubt retained enough information for a description. The other was very strange, to say the least. No women of focus, no sex, nothing exotic, but an area I can no longer see as I walked with someone else -- also unseen -- and carrying some items which were on my shoulder and very lengthy. I recall a girl in front of me repeatedly turning to make sure I didn't hit her on the head with whatever I had been carrying. And then I wasn't... And then across the 'street' from where I began as I led a couple of girls to a certain street for which they had been searching, and then I got it wrong and had no idea of what was going on. I asked for directions but to no avail. Then somewhere else... Tall buildings and everything appearing very futuristic. Awake. Ugh. Odd.

Back to the shopping. I still don't know why I am describing such things.

This may have been seeing an advertisement in one of the malls on the news, in the background. A reminder of being in a nice mall south of here many years back, but during the current period. [Aside: The periods... One was the four years, two was the time immediately following the gold when I was in the Midwest, three was upon returning to California and leading up to five, which went from a year after moving home right up until I left the valley and came to the coast. Follow along or not, I don't care, but I do realize some of this is difficult to absorb at times.] There is the mall again, due to the same story being covered in the last hour. Oy, the watch brand, the memories, and the slam of that time yet again. Shopping, of all things. Damn.

Maybe I will leave that alone for a while. Everything hurts, and I will say the worst is the 'feeling' of being out and about back then versus thirty years later. Again, I have to point out that I have belabored the point many times because it means that much now. This could very likely be the worst part of the lateness on the calendar. I'm not sure. There seemed to be so much hope (yes, I said 'seemed', but don't crucify me for using such a term. I was HAPPY, for fuck's sake) surrounding the future and the knowledge that things would continue to surprise and amaze me helped to keep everything bright and new all the time. The woman next to me during that period, as well... Bright and positive, beautiful and understanding, hopeful and sweet. We strolled along year after year with wide eyes and thinking of where we could be in the future. She always remained steadfast and positive, no matter what may have been going on in the world. Sometimes we shopped for no reason other than just being out there, and other times for something specific, much like our Christmas list each holiday season. The overwhelming wonder of the stores and their inventories represented places and situations of which we dreamed while shopping. Placing ourselves in the future, we discussed where we would have liked to be by a certain age. We agreed upon nearly everything.

I have to stop going on about that stuff. The huge gradient between then and now is ever-growing, as I sit here day after day and look around both the room and the world. I cannot help but miss that time. A good portion of my downed state is due to what I refer to as a 'plateau' of progress and technology which has come to pass between a decade ago and this year. We have stopped. The only progress is the shortening attention spans of people and the continual decline in sensitivity coupled with expansive apathy as shared by the populace. I won't go on about it, but I will say that there is nothing for which I feel more strongly, and the image of those times when happiness and possibility ruled my heart cuts me deeply every day due to the immense difference in each aspect of present life. The fact that I already know nothing will take place to cause such happiness in the future pushes me to think in a very negative light. This will not change, ever. Some days I feel I have the drive to stop it and lose everything, while most days I just have nothing.

Wow, that was a mouthful. Pretty nice, huh?

And here we have a movie from twenty-two years back which I have always enjoyed, so having it in the background while working at this crap is nice. I am trying to avoid seeing all of the women in the Christmas movies right now. My head is fucked up enough already. I lost my way here, lost the title and its significance, and nearly lost the push to continue typing. I think today is going to be as I calculated last Saturday might end up... Loud music and a very bad mood from yours truly. But I will have to get out there and make some things happen. The way I feel right now is not going to end well if I sit here and carry on for very long. The chores are always there, of course, and thanks to yesterday there is not much to do today. That means I can work on whatever I wish. Plus, yesterday one of my friends (few of them anymore) visited and dropped off a neon sign in hopes that I might be able to troubleshoot it. As of yet I have no idea due to a lack of experience in such a discipline, but I will take a look later when the sun is about as high as it gets this time of year. Just another little tidbit to distract me from the end of the street just ahead... The second of January.

There is a small upside right now, though, and that is thanks to the state extending benefits and the stimulus bill close to passing. This will be the second since last summer, as well. We need it, badly. Companies with decent positions available are not filling them, and those which are available cannot support anyone. This is very bad. Businesses closing and tons out of work, like myself. I have to simply sit tight and await some sort of reopening. No other options, although in the meantime and as I said, a small boost.

This movie is likely the most scientifically inaccurate film ever made, but also wonderfully entertaining and extremely well made. I love it, so anything other than fun is shoved aside. The leaf blower next door again. Bless him for doing his job this morning.

I am concerned over the depths to which I drown myself in the past. The more I dwell upon those feelings, the worse everything looks in the present. This is not good at all and may only further my decline, although if not the past, I am certain something else will come along to a similar effect. I just don't know about the amount of words here concerning those years. The Christmas season sets it off sometimes, and perhaps this year was helped along by my relay of the ice skate ornament story to others, and then a fruitless search for the same. I told the tale some time ago and have been thinking about it since recently publishing the story. That ornament was like a representation of the time, and as such meant much to me even then. I loved it. Now, and after having professed my love for those years and then much disdain for where the world resides at the present, that little pair of skates is enormous in my mind. Probably much more important than it should be considering my penchant for sentimentality. One little incident as we shopped an after-Christmas sale and all these years later I am nearly as obsessed with the past as I am with the female form. I never would have believed in such a turn.

Eh... None of this is doing me any good, but I can't stop. The fondness and the absence. Hmm, that should be the title of this shit. I am all over the place and it doesn't matter in the least. Almost time to move away from this infernal machine and on to the day.

Some weeks back there was a feeling hanging in the air. I was outside the back of the house after dinner, and an image floated in which had been prompted by something on the television, I believe. I jotted a sentence into a cloud document and left it alone all this time. The idea relates to a situation during the glowing years in which we were headed for the theatre (yes, THAT one) and stopped off for food near to the dome. The restaurant had been experimenting with automated ordering, meaning there was a touch screen for selections and an opening below where a cook or kitchen attendant slid the items out on a tray. The strangeness intrigued me for a time... No one greeted customers, there was no face behind the register (?), and only a pair of hands to reveal the food or make change from cash. If a card was used (not common back then but still an option), we saw the hands but once. The idea felt futuristic and aligned with my visions of where technology may have been heading, but at the same time felt cold and detached. Less employees? Well, we know this era of the self-checkout and automated gas pump transactions, so what I have been describing certainly came to pass, yet I still felt somewhat uncomfortable using the system to order our food. We did, afterward heading to see the movie, and I only thought of the situation a few times. I don't even think we went back, ever.

So, the point was not eliminating jobs or advancing technology. There was something else present when I recalled visiting that particular restaurant and I still cannot place it. Like a fleeting feeling from something in the present which can propel a person back many years, it happened then and now I don't remember. I will say that it did have something to do with technology (keep in mind that silly me was fascinated by a drive-up teller machine which could move up and down at the touch of a button, making higher or lower vehicles more welcomed to that bank). I am going to have to come back to this if I ever recall the reasoning behind seeing that visit again. There were many parts of our travels which took me off my feet. The one in question has to be out there somewhere for my recollection. I wish I could bring it up right now. Perhaps someday.

Garbage trucks just snapped me out of that time. I must get away from this anyway. The entry is too fucking long. Eh... Does it matter? Nope.

Off to see the wizard."



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