December 21st, 2020 9:37am pst

The site is operational as it was before making changes. The only difference now is that the archive sits at the landing page rather than behind a link. There are lots of glitches remaining, however, but at least readers can visit and peruse if they so desire. Also, the archive is actually fully complete. Nothing has been left out.


 read ( words)

"12-15... Still.

This is the point in a weekday when things begin to get to me. I am past all of the chores and organization for the time being, had lunch and cleaned my mess, but now know not what to do. This is taking place too often due to my lacking direction nearly all of the time. I am still preoccupied with imagery and feelings of the past, still yearning and searching for all which has eluded me for so long, and looking toward the next day as if nothing will change. The machine dream drives much of my feeling helpless to find joy in life any longer. The little things are barely hanging on. I have this, though. Better than nothing.

Ahh... Some of those parts of life which others seem to enjoy are floating just beyond my grasp. Ugh.


12-16, Wednesday. What the fuck I did yesterday now eludes me. The usual, I suppose.

Today is not a work day for her, meaning my morning is going to be more relaxed than usual. It also means the afternoon could morph into early evening. I won't really know until some time passes, but I do know that these days the only happiness I have going for me is either cleaning the kitchen, sitting down to a meal, or those little visits by the goddess to watch our show. This situation is very sad when you stop and think about it. I should have much more in my life at this point in time and after all those years of working, but I have not taken the proper steps for the future while others did exactly that. I just figured something would come along because it always did. Now? I am reaping what I sowed... Nothing at all. Years of uncaring and living on the ragged edge have caught up once and for all. These days I will admit that the smallest details are more appreciated than ever before, too. Sitting here right now watching the light come up and sipping coffee is wonderful. Each morning has been like this for months, as opposed to those work mornings in which I dreamed of remaining home to relax and think. Well, I have plenty of those now, but do I deserve to be doing this? No one is there to answer... Not even me. Right now the options are so narrow that I spend much of my time considering everything which can be done while in this position. That is part of the reason for the selling. Whatever else takes place in the near future, having more money will help.

Jesus Christ on a cross, Shannon looks better now than she did twenty-five years ago. Heh. Older, more statuesque, and so beautiful that my brain hurts. Maybe it's the big, bright smile. I don't know, but all the other stuff -- dark eyes, dark flowing hair, tall and lithe -- makes my mind wander and I have trouble continuing here. I know many years ago she spent much time on the big screen but I never watched those movies. Hmm. Now? After seeing her older? I wouldn't go back and watch them if you paid me cash.


There are two weeks left of the current year. This is not good on any fucking level. Things are worse.

Today also marks precisely nine months since the first shelter order, and another will be in place at midnight tonight. Unbelievable, but then again very believable considering the stupid behavior of many people. Just a few minutes ago I was transferring one of the older entries into the new framework and I saw my words. Angry, dissatisfied with the whole of our backward, sheep society, and spewing disdain toward everything outside my window. I feel the same now. Partially to be expected considering the current state of the world and people's behavior, I suppose. I never really liked them anyway. Now there is more reason.


I have still not driven for some days, meaning I've had more time at home to maintain clear thinking and take care of the house. This endeavor has been a trial, however. I finally learned that all of the user authentication functionality is built in to the application software, although implementing the routine meant I had to create an entirely new project and then attempt to transfer the mass of content from the original project. I must move all of the writing -- one essay at a time -- into new server pages. There are more than two hundred at this late date. Lots of work, most of it quite boring. The end result will prove advantageous, though. I have also been able to rid the framework of the two-column layout in favor of a static header with navigation. Originally I wished to wrap the text around the left menu and images, but I believe this method is cleaner. No fluff. Once complete, I will have control over who has access to the bulk of my content.

I still don't have a clue as to why the read time script is not working. Ugh.


Jaime King is up there this morning, and I have never been able to decide why she is so beautiful. One fact which comes to mind when I see her is a similarity to Uma, and that woman's prowess for drawing eyes from every angle is well-known. Jaime is tall, slender, very blonde most of the time, but there is something about the manner in which she carries herself on the screen and the big eyes. I don't know, but when I look at her there is a different feeling than seeing any other woman in high definition on the screen. Like... Maybe when I see her I feel that if she were standing before me and looking into my eyes, she would immediately understand everything there is to know about me and I would have no further issue in life. God damn is she ever beautiful... I just don't know why. There is the spelling of her first name, though. Look familiar?

The last couple of days have found me feeling like crap physically and fairly drained mentally. The end of the year is right up the street and forcing me to consider each second I draw breath. Yesterday, in particular, was a point of contention within my brain. Still is, I guess. This morning is a toughie because of the feeling that I have been wronging myself for a long time. Combined with trouble sleeping, this situation is anything but easy to consider. Others are not privy to all which is going on inside because there is no reason to burden them, although with me all fucked up like this, any change will come sharply out of left field due to my being so quiet. That may not be the best course right now. I am continuing to get the new site working and for the most part it keeps me occupied. In addition, I have more drawing paper arriving soon which means I can go back to the nineties and sit at the dining table to create or modify my illustrations. This will basically be an updated version of the 'me' of the past. I am not attempting to recreate the feelings, though. I need the escape, nothing more. Today is Sunday. Football in a little while and then I'll return here to get some things done. Yesterday I accomplished quite a bit of organization in the new office and it looks pretty good. I will continue in such a vein tomorrow when I have more free time. I don't plan to finish much today, though. The game will be a few hours and I still do not feel all that great after the last couple of days, so I will be taking it easy for the most part. The Sunday house and garbage business is pretty straightforward anyway.

Thursday last I ended up turning off the game in favor of my show. I was worried and a little uncomfortable, and such a situation is not good for Sunday. Today I will need to be careful and mindful of what I let loose. Most of the time I am very quiet and just swallow anything bad, but lately I have felt like lashing toward whomever happens to be available. I don't like it, but lashing at others is better than toward myself. That will not end well for anyone. In a couple of hours I will be in the middle of everything, so the enjoyment has to be at the forefront of my thinking. As long as is possible, anyway. I always lose it at some point but at least I know in advance. After the game I'll be here doing what I can to earn the quiet evening. Whether or not I do is not important. The trying is the issue.


I keep thinking of what Sunday used to feel like before leaving my job. It was full of possibility and brightness. These days it is quite different. No, I don't regret leaving work behind, but the fact is my free time to work on whatever I pleased was in shorter supply back then. Now I have nothing but free time. It seems less valuable because each day is nearly the same. The difference on Sunday is merely my garbage chores. Yesterday the gentleman who is storing his motorcycle here visited for a little while and we sat to catch up. The time was nice, although I kept thinking of his life situation as compared to mine. In a nutshell, he has worked toward a future whereas I have not. The result is there is nothing on the horizon for me other than more days spent here at home. I have no prospects and the promise and possibilities which shined during those four key years are all gone. There seemed plenty of time for whatever came along. Well, nothing came along other than the work at NASA and then the opportunity down the coast many years later when I was in the apartment. That went south due to my reckless behavior and the manner in which it affected my credit score. I've gone over this in the past, but still my head descends often enough to realize that I am right in the middle of what I created. The opportunities were there and I graded them aside in favor of enjoyment. Not good.

There is very little 'good' in these late days. And I mean LATE. I have no direction whatsoever.

Almost time for me to get away from this and care for a couple of things before heading over for the game. One realization yesterday actually helped me, and that is the idea of spending time away from home for whatever activity takes place. While out, I do miss being here, and that is a boost in my otherwise sullen existence these days. Anything which causes me to smile is huge now. I go out for a while (like later today) and then return after hours and being home feels new again. I have to keep that in mind each day. Stop.

12-21 and Christmas is ever closer. I have to visit a couple of stores in order to ensure the two individuals with which I will be spending Christmas Eve will have gifts to open. This is the year of the non-shopping as the whole world seems to be closed. She is not working today which means I might go out alone, later. I don't know yet. After another night of strange dreams, I may just sit right here all fucking day and hammer the words until the world relents to me. The way I feel at this moment is not good. I have to make some things happen or I'll lose my shit this afternoon without fail.

Yesterday turned out to be bad for our team... Again. We're playing pretty well, it's just there are many out with injuries and other teams seems to be capitalizing on the losses. Anyway, the fourth quarter was crap so we put on an episode of the show. Always good. We are nearly at the end of the third season. Excellent television.

Today is the first day I have felt that the last several months were necessary for my survival and avoiding the virus. Others around me (those closest) are all high-risk, so being here and staying away from any possibility of exposure is important, not just for myself. Aside from a few drives here and there, I have been in this house for nine months. I am fine, they are fine, while the remainder of society fights this battle. I will not say that I've isolated myself for no good reason. Things will change eventually. Until then, I need to take advantage of this morning's feeling and move forward. If I can, that is. Nothing is easy anymore.

Last night was a pain in the ass because she drank too quickly and ended up nearly causing a massive argument due to being so fucking negative while on the booze. I shut it down as well as I could and moved on. For a split second I thought everything would be fine, then all was falling down, and then I forced it back up which is very unusual for me. I generally try to actually let others fall on their stupid faces so that I can slam the point home and then reiterate everything the following morning just to make it sting. This is important because others did it to me for a very long time and taught me a lesson. Now? I am wiser in that way and become overjoyed when there is an opportunity to put others as far down as I can just to show both how much I've learned and how dramatically offensive such behavior has become. Many years ago, someone close to me said 'a drunk tongue speaks a sober heart'. Well, that's horseshit, regardless of any truth. People are all different and I don't give a fuck if their problems are hidden away and then come flying out after a few glasses of wine. Do as you please every fucking day, just keep the words away from me after that third drink. I wish no more of that and fully intend to become even worse toward other people if such situations arise again. The saying in quotes is questionable, at best. There are too many different types of minds out there for anything to be so simple. That is that.


I just had to replace the new site with the old due to too many things going wrong. I don't understand much of the code and must rely on the software to guide me in some ways. When parts of the code go awry, the time required for me to seek and repair the problem can be excessive. Until I am certain there are no issues, I suppose I'll have to work on it in the background, just as I did back in twelve when first embracing the active server pages. That took time, but eventually worked well. The newest endeavor is proving much more complex. We'll get there.

Monday is usually quieter than this but I am not alone this morning. I am actually completely frustrated and fucking sick of everything which is asked of me these days. I have been doing my best, yet still there are those moments in which I realize that I am nothing more than the Goddamned glue. For the time being, I must be patient until changes are available. Very unhappy right now.

The big hand has been swinging around for weeks now. Stress over finances, worry about the holiday magic being gone for more than a decade, the idea that I placed myself in the middle of a situation that is causing me undue worry and discomfort, and the simple fact that at this point in time I have no semblance of a future beyond the simple things. All those years of deflecting everything and pushing the world into the shape of my needs are coming back and grabbing at my ankles. I am in the middle of it. There is little good left, the other day holding some of the ethereal magic. I don't know how long such a state will remain, though. Not long. The hazards are becoming sharp enough to begin a process which had been halted years ago, one I had no intention of revisiting. Between the big hand swinging around from out of sight and smacking me hard enough to wish for an end to everything and the fucking details I recall from each incident -- good or bad -- my head nearly cannot function well enough to get these fucking words to the screen. Everything I dislike and all which makes me uncomfortable has become gospel. Well, fuck me anyway. I am no one, right?

Today must be a turning point of sorts. I need to decide whether or not to sell a couple of items which are important to me in the interest of maintaining daily operation for as long as possible. Employment is proving tough right now due to being shut down again just days ago. Companies are having a hard enough time just operating, let alone adding to their workforces. I don't know how long this is going to last because there is no way of trusting leaders enough to see an end. I will keep trying, though. Searching is easy, but locating a position at my age and after being separated from all my past experience is an uphill battle, just like everything else. The only positive is lots of time for analysis.

My new drawing paper is scheduled to arrive in two days, meaning I can relive the days of old with creativity and visions which always bring wonder. Also, we have the beginning of a plan for celebrating Christmas Eve with the goddess and that means something very different from the last nine-plus months. I am looking forward to cooking and being social on that day. The plan also limits my time for securing gifts, but no one is really expecting much anyway. The world is still all fucked up. In fact, one of my credit cards which was available to shop at a big-box store has been removed by the creditor due to my finances taking a massive hit in recent months. That is bad. Less options, but I suppose they must protect themselves, too. The big hand, yet again. This is the third time I have run rampant and destroyed options. Maybe the last? I will know soon enough. For now, I must operate carefully and remain vigilant.


As you can see, the beauty of the world continues to find its way onto these pages. I can't help it anymore. I have to see the beauty in order to find methods of smiling and holding tight to the knowledge that some parts of life are there to be enjoyed. The women gracing this entry represent a slice of whatever came along during the last several days. One of them I don't even like. She is a bad character, but still lovely to see. Everything on the outside, as I have said before. I rarely include imagery of people with which I am familiar beyond appearance anyway, so why not enjoy her stance and leave it at that? Heh.

Almost time for me to get away from this crap and do something. I have a long form to fill out, scan, and email to ensure more funds come my way, the usual weekday business, and then images to shoot of a few more items for selling. The other day I managed a nice start to getting the garage in order after months of letting it get out of hand, and that adds to my possible smile. I can still push against the big hand sometimes. I know most of the entries throughout the pandemic have been quite negative, but honestly I cannot predict the future any more than others. Possibility cannot be denied, so forward motion -- even at a snail's pace -- is going to happen regardless of my shit mood. By close of business yesterday I felt fairly accomplished and rolled into the evening rather comfortably. I need to do that again today. Soon, I suppose.

The new site is a pain in the ass, to put it mildly. I took the whole fucking shitaree down and made the landing page my new archive, effectively bypassing the method in which I have published for more than eight years. I feel that the change is good because rather than announcing the newest writing, the main index remains static and only a title is added. The new site will be more restricted, however. The index will provide very little information beyond the basics, meaning anyone wishing to read further will be required to create and verify an account. I know many do not like such a process, but I really don't give a shit. The pages here are my life, and as such are not subject to anyone else's rules.

Visitors can just fucking live with it or go elsewhere.

Wow do I ever feel like shit."