October 29th, 2020 7:13am pdt

If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning


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"I believe the attempts to explore some of my prime fears should cease. Only so much can be revealed, and if I keep going, the ambiguity will only deepen. Just because I know what is going on does not mean the writing is justified. The idea of this outlet helping was shot down some weeks ago, anyway. Eh... Perhaps soon. This may not be the time.

Tuesday morning, early. Yesterday turned out to be relaxing, although I was rather going through it in the evening. Other than recalling a visit to an experimental Arby's way back during the time of happiness, I had trouble with society and my role within such a mess. I have recently discovered that I am looking at others differently than just a year ago. I am paying more attention to eyes, and even considering most of the people I am seeing are on the television, inside each actor is still a real person with hopes, dreams, feelings, etc. I see them and don't know what to think anymore. I found myself comparing others to me. What is that? I'll tell you what it is... Never a good idea unless under the strictest circumstances. I can't help it sometimes. My value is so low that the idea of wondering about different parts of me and how I may be like or unlike other people can be compelling. Question after question. Ugh.

One of those questions will not go away.

There is a distinct possibility that the events of the past which have been spelled out here in one way or another added together have caused me to develop into the person I am today. There are likely many other little triggers and lessons here and there, too, but I am not educated in such a discipline at all. I am left to speculate. My ideas and observations could be complete crap, or I may be on the right path. One thing keeps returning to the forefront of my mind, though, and that is the idea of two key situations which have been considered almost daily for decades. Now if that is not a sign of aspects of me growing out of those times, I don't know what to say.

The conversation the other day opened up a can of worms. I stated something almost as clearly as it appears in my head, revealed how it relates to so many little situations and facets of society's views, and then went on a bit before clamming up again. Well, that may have been a mistake. I feel smaller now. Weaker, I suppose. I might need to cease vocalizing my feelings when I am softened by booze or something else. Care must be taken to avoid letting words fly which demand explanation. Or did I already say that? Eh... Who cares?

I remember bringing up specific names and the reasoning behind my avoidance of them for years. God damn, what a fucking mistake. I suppose the weakness took over and I believed for a split second that something good could have come of the discussion. Well, that was fucking stupid. I cannot honestly expect someone else to think the way I do. Unfair, again, just like the attempted 'reverse'. Those feelings should have remained inside, damn it, like the face below with one eyelid off from the other. Do you see? She is out of balance, asymmetrical, but look at her. Flawed yet unbelievable. She is inside me because the flaws help me to stay upright and realize that I do not need to live up to anything I feel is unattainable. So far it is not working, but suffice to say that seeing such a level of physical beauty and at the same time things which are out of place can mean maybe my being all fucked up is ok. The downside was the names. I should not have done that because I push just as much. One more time... Unfair. Look at her again, the only woman pictured on this entry. She is amazing. Just a person who happened to strike me, nothing more. A person. Like me.


Oy fuck what does this day have in store? We took a trip to the big place yesterday, all the way over in South City. Uneventful. Not many people in the store and no line whatsoever when we checked out. Pretty nice. Right out of the fucking gate was the girl at the door checking membership cards and even with a mask she was freaking gorgeous. Long, black hair again, damn it. Tall... Whatever. You know. I was quite smitten for five seconds before forgetting her completely. Heh. Five seconds. Typical. There is Jeffrey on the screen in Ferengi makeup. He is even more amazing than the face above this paragraph. I hold so much respect for his talent that I do not have the words sometimes. Anyway, today can be anything I wish, within reason. I can work on projects, clean some things, sell stuff, call the junk guy, or any combination. Coming out the other side would feel really good. Thus far during these last seven months, my brain has effectively disallowed many actions my body could have carried out. That's right, I got in the way of myself because I am preoccupied by so much fucking shit that I don't know what to do much of the time. I have wasted months and bitched the entire way. Splendid. I feel like a pile of shit sometimes, I swear.

So... Today, right? What do I do? Sit here until the light comes up for one thing. Finish the coffee? And then maybe get dressed and stare into the garage for some inspiration? That seems a good idea. I do spend a lot of time pondering what to put here, too. Most mornings begin with coffee and this machine on my lap. There is much in my head.

The light is coming up outside.

One thing for sure is I have to get some things captured with the camera so I can list them for auction. Nothing big, just a few little items which will add up to some decent money. Such a task must take place pretty quickly for me to feel good about it. Today is the day. I will get it done and report back. Also, another several things need to go out to the trash. Then I will call the junk guy and create a large, empty space in the back so I can spread out the plants and make it look balanced. I keep putting off calling him because I never know if I'll overlook something which could have disappeared. I don't like loose ends.

I keep thinking of that conversation from Sunday and it's still bothering me. I've turned into something I can no longer identify or explain. Worried all the fucking time over the tiniest moments and wording. Like those two words on Thursday last. Still there, spinning and causing me to feel inadequate and plain. God damn it anyway. Every problem has a solution, but every solution eludes me right now. I can't seem to muster the strength to talk about the subject to which those words are attached. It's deep. A fear that has no resolution in the real world, although it is so compelling that I continue to comment. And veiled like never before. No one has the first damned clue. There is that knot again. Fuck.

No solutions. Unfound. The only decent feeling is no one knowing. Not even close.

No mention of dreams, Jaime, machinery, or all those other things I went on and on about just months ago. Where did it all go? Nowhere. All inside to this very second, yet upstaged by fear. Yep. Priorities.

The time is near for me to put this aside and do something else. The coffee is almost gone, the light is up nicely, and there are many things I can work on. First may be taking pictures of those items I wish to sell. After that, I may head out to the garage and move some stuff around again. There is always room for improvement. I can't let this day be one of those in which I stand in the living room motionless. I just can't have that again. Forward progress, please.



I learned yesterday that my phone is large enough to be a cross between a phone and tablet. The portmanteau is 'phablet'. Heh. I had no idea.

More light now and no fog within view. I'll have to stop for a while. Something must happen, and that something has to be different than all those wasted days for seven months. Stop.

Wednesday morning and all is not well. Yesterday I indeed pushed and lined up this morning for the hauler. A few more items around the side of the house and I'll be ready for his arrival. Very good. I also took care of the garage for a little while before the sun was high. There is more room out there as a result. The temperature was fascinating yesterday, too. The morning air smelled like the day would be hot, but it never really took over the house. Outside the sun became enough to force me into a nickel and dime routine with the scrap wood and such due to the warmth, but then late afternoon the mercury dropped off sharply and left me very cold outside upon sunset. Interesting. I still kept the routine going, though. Almost everything has been moved toward the side gate for pickup. This is very good. Upon seeing some light outside today I will head out there and look around to see if anything else can go. I really enjoy seeing space freed up.

I know the conversation will return. It has to happen. The outcome is a mystery, though. I'm scared.

Oh a dream this morning had me completely worried, and the subject is something which I cannot spell out here. Yep, another. Big fucking surprise. I walked into my kitchen and there were others. And then I noticed the counter was gone and there was no sink. The face frames were present without drawers. Three people were there washing dishes and my first feeling was they were guests for a holiday. No big deal, but I could not figure what happened to the kitchen. The faucet was there, however it was falling into a bowl below and then to the trap. It seemed to be working just fine despite appearing like modern art. The three greeted me.

Some children there. Not exactly my thing.

Into the bathroom. My newly-installed tub was partially askew because someone had apparently been working on it for one reason or another. I was immediately taken aback at the fact that my bathroom was partially disassembled. I had gone to great lengths to get the thing working in a very short period of time, and to see that someone was in there fucking with my stuff made me kind of angry. Oy. And then the kids all over the place. Not good, but I calculated the idea of the holiday gathering and let everything go. I had no wish to cause problems even though my world was rather goofed up. I headed toward the bedroom to hide myself from the others out of a need, and that is where I must stop. I cannot spell out what took place beyond such a point, but I will say the remainder of the dream was directly related to my feelings in life over something very personal and quite sensitive. The difficulty I experienced in the dream stemmed from a real situation recently which caused me to think. The importance of parts of the house melted away and I was hit with the immediate need to discuss the ideas which were in my head while dreaming. Ugh.

More piled on top of everything already crippling me. Splendid.

the goblet

The current state of me is going to change one way or another. Leeta has nothing to do with it, though, despite being up there life-sized and with an adorably brainless expression. Damned cute, that girl, but my condition does not alter with either the passage of time or the countless visions on the television. They come and go and I am just the same. Do you see the face at the top? I have no idea who she is. Just a random self-portrait floating around the Internet and available for anyone who wishes to look. I believe the image came from Pinterest. I have a board of faces which means the feed displays more of them from time to time. The face I placed here seems to hold every detail in mind, save for one. The lower face thing I mention sometimes is not present on her. The reason she relates to the way I feel this morning is I need to keep in mind that no matter what I do, where I may go, or the effort expended in trying to do something different with myself, the beauty will never go away or leave me alone. I must compute a method for dealing with what I see and realizing that I need not go off the deep end. No obsessing anymore. Her face might end up on the left column as a reminder that unless I actually shut the fuck down completely, coming to terms with the sights is necessary. She seems to be a good example of universal beauty, so her image gets the spot up there.

I have seven hundred other faces locked away and don't even look at them anymore. Ugh. Whatever. They were important enough at some point to save. Toward the top I spoke of her being flawed and the idea of my feeling better about me because she is so beautiful yet far from ideally formed. The more flaws I find, the more I realize that another person expecting too much of me is absolutely wrong right out of the fucking gate, and that includes myself. Yes, I said that. Read it ten more times, look at the genetic fluke up there again, and then think about the whole thing. Mirror her and look again. Mirror yourself, too. Find the screwy differences and live with it.

Light is growing. A little over an hour and I'll be out there in the cool air moving a few things.

I believe I need to cease bringing up subjects which cannot be fully fleshed out. Again, I feel that the process is unfair, just like my vocalization. All bets are off here most of the time, though, because this is more like a journal. The fact that it is public will change, too. I've heard enough shit over being one-sided. Honestly, the most troubling parts of me now are too personal for spelling out. Some are even too much to bring up with another person, believe it or not. A therapist would be in even darker territory than a friend these days. Along similar lines, I cannot see another human being helping with my crap anyway. Talking and typing are fine, but the talking ends up limited in some ways because I am not comfortable blurting shit which feels like it should not be happening at my age. I may be wrong about appearances and age, though. I don't fucking know. The certainty is being directly in front of another person and trying to form the words into sentences often results in as much fog as you see here all the time. Even this fucking paragraph has become a puzzle. Do you see? My description of the other description is now so cryptic that I am failing to see the point in typing this crap at all. If the outlet is key, perhaps the point is well-made.

Whew. I need a refill of coffee after that mess. Sometimes I get on a tangent and run. Don't know if this is good or not. At least I'm still here writing after eighteen years. Heh.

Very cool outside, not even fifty right now. I'm still having trouble with the loss of the way things were years ago, though. Fall has been tough for some time, and now with everything so different than even one year back, the memories are sharper and feel further away. I don't know how to get back to the holiday mode. I might be wrong for trying, too. The past cannot return no matter what takes place or how I feel, so the only path may be to do things differently, like creating new routines or moods throughout fall and Winter. The holidays may need to be recreated with the tools which are available rather than continuing lamentation of all that has been lost. Is that correct? New memories? I don't know.


Another morning, some coffee, and at least a partial plan for the day. The crap heading out the gate today is very good. I've been planning to get him over here for quite some time and now that the day is here and some prep is completed, I feel good about the whole thing. Soon I will be in the garage to ensure everything is ready. Considering all that I am juggling these days (especially issues within), any project advancement is helpful. I need to know that the forward progress mentioned on so many occasions can still take place. Inside me is another matter entirely, though. Unfound answers, little comfort. God damn is Terry ever tall. Oy. Eh... She has nothing to do with anything, really. I need a fish fry. The conversation from Sunday is now three days back but still in front of much of my thinking. Not an hour passes without me considering my words and partially revealing something so difficult that it can still bring me to my knees in a second.

The episodes on the BBC this morning are all beginning fifteen minutes before the top of each hour. What are they thinking? Strange, but at least I can count on the content nearly all of the time. Very good. The last thing I need is more turmoil over imagery. At this point I don't know if I can watch the new show with another person. The entire premise is troubling, although the story and characters are really good. I wrestled with the pilot but made it all the way through, and the ending was fantastic and set up the arc very well. I was alone which meant little worry aside from what I already feel, but now there is an option of watching together. Oof. I might implode despite the caring. More than once in recent years has someone told me that facing fears can be helpful in learning to deal with them. I believe such an idea one hundred percent, yet actually doing it and coming out the other side with more, better insight is not guaranteed. I do not accept difficult situations easily because of being weakened for years. Some media is ok alone, but with another person of the opposite sex it can create haunting moments after the fact, and the series in question not only embraces and demonstrates such media in spades, even the most basic of facts about the show is something thrown at me years ago which still hurts. It is offensive and frightening. Society has run with too many unfeeling and demeaning terms for me to simply face them head-on and survive. Scared, and that with one of the most caring and understanding souls imaginable right next to me for help. What does such a fact say about me? Ugh.

I am in the same fucking boat after every single entry here. The same, no better and no more insight. Either I hide myself completely, lose my mind, or face things. The latter could be worse than both formers, unfortunately. Damn it all, anyway. Just... Damn it. More typing, less understanding.

Nineteen eighty may have ruined me for all time."