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September 24th, 2020 7:27am pdt

We may return the archive structure to strictly chronological. The SSL is in place and any scripting issues which arose because of it have been eliminated. Other than those, status quo.



Void

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"Something reminded me of Wendy yesterday and resulted in my gushing and locating the film in question. I even went so far as to use a superlative, and that is rare these days. I am frankly surprised myself. We sat and watched most of it due to me bringing up the subject. I have not seen it in years. A problem arose, as well. I seem to remember where I was living when I last viewed her on the screen, too, and what was going through my head at the time. A connection is beginning to form... One which is going to cause all sorts of difficulty. Hmm. I may come back to this.

Wendy has never been a problem. The only rub was when I watched a film eight years later in which she had a small part, and that immediately sent me back to the late eighties and watching her for the first time. The later film was not real great, but did open a door for Internet-related technology to be explored more fully later. At the time I did not realize I was seeing the same woman -- about thirty-four years old -- when I was twenty-eight or so. Everything was different as I found myself in the middle of the Marisa period. Yes, her again, but not the woman, idiots... The time and place. Her eyes represent the early-to-mid nineties. Not only was I all over the film industry, but seeing Wendy again transported me back to watching the original in which I discovered her face, and that in turn sent me spiraling. Yesterday was completely different, believe it or not.

And here we are on another Sunday morning with football ahead. The last couple of days have been difficult enough to make me realize that watching the game will be of no consequence. Nothing at all. There are larger fish in the pan right now, all of them sections of the past. They are right on my heels as I move through the morning. This is going to be a toughie, for sure. The television? The imagery as it relates to me? I don't give a fuck anymore. Let it fly. I might pay attention. Fuck it.

The game is early, meaning I will need to watch, eat and then take the afternoon to complete my business. Not a problem. There will also be a bit of time to get some things moved around again. We keep inheriting, and I have to stay on top of everything or the house will become a big pile. Ah... Another movie from the middle of the nineties. I recall being pretty excited about its release due to the author of the novel being the very same who wrote 'Jurassic' and the tie-in with technology. The film turned out to be pretty crappy, but at the time I didn't care. My eyes were nearly as wide as the summer of the CD girl and the 'E' channel. Oy, that was a big one, and a portion of the feeling returned when this film debuted. Anyway, I don't really pay attention to it anymore. Background noise, but the period remains very special. This is going to be on my mind for days and days, honestly. Ever since thinking of those three women and related times, I believe the lion's share of my waking hours are to be spent considering what I can do to rise above what now appears a dark and dismal future. The football today -- especially after going on at length regarding the difficulties I have experienced in the past -- will come and go as if I didn't even notice. I will watch, but my preoccupation is going to disallow any worry over what comes across the screen. I shall remain detached and quiet.

I need to go back to searching for the rollercoaster girl. She may be the only face capable of rivaling Wendy. Maybe. I worked on that project for quite a while before becoming discouraged. I will find her, though. The need is too great. Unlike some others from the past, I at least know that she had been caught on video at one point, and that means she is out there somewhere. I can still picture her bright eyes. The loss of those channels hit me pretty hard. The programming was amazing and really unique. The entire period which had me transitioning from one home to another, along with the television I had been watching during those years is now cemented as being one of the most hopeful times ever. I really feel that way. Even though the dreams of running away and finding some kind of excitement which I had thought missing from my life took me every now and again, the move to that house and the events which took place there still stir me. The television channels were a part of that time. Sometime after zero seven they went away and left me yearning for the next wonder. Unfortunately, the wonder had all but ceased. Even being here this morning with the television up there glowing and my very advanced phone next to me (is it really only a phone anymore?), everything feels treaded, as if there is nothing forward from here. The period of the rollercoaster girl still shined a bit and the years ahead felt hopeful. All of that is gone now, and to extend the previous entry's realization, the rollercoaster girl is another pair of eyes which defined a period that can never return. I am going to have to stop this soon, too, or my head will cease its ability to work within the current circumstance.

This morning when I stepped toward the back door and smelled the air outside, the feeling of fall flooded me with memories for the tenth time. Holidays, less daylight, cooler temperatures... All of it, but I am not there anymore. Oh the weather still does its thing and the clock goes back, but the feeling is different now. There are no family gatherings anymore. And with society all fucked up due to the pandemic, we can't go sit in a restaurant and enjoy the fucking atmosphere. Everything is complete shit right now and it appears my holiday season is going to be spent right here in front of this computer. As I said, the football may be the only aspect which has not changed. Yesterday found me in front of the television for the game, beer in hand, lunch provided by someone very special, and I began to feel quite a bit better for the experience. By evening I actually knew that the fall would be tolerable. Now it is morning again and I am beginning to slide back down the hill. Today is going to be important if I am to survive the coming weeks. The comfort is still present, the peace and quiet during the day helps me think, yet still that frightening end of the street looms. I know not why. And this paragraph has gone awry. Oh, well.

Tomorrow is the first day of fall. Normally I would be overjoyed, but this morning I don't see it. Too many things gone now as the conversation yesterday attested. They cannot return, and due to the early part of my life being so fucked up, those little parts which could have extended everything into the future do not exist now. The path forward is my own and cannot be influenced or altered by another person. The forces of nature have spoken. I am helpless now. The smidgen of control I still hold over the environment here will have to be embraced even more tightly than during the last several months. This may be the final period in life when I can exercise such a thing. The situation has become so important for my day to day survival that I cannot imagine going about my time differently now. The three pairs of eyes which represent those periods lost forever are going to be joined by another if and when my situation changes. I do not know which pair (one might think Jaime, but alas I cannot see her eyes), but I am certain one will pop up at some point. This really may be it. So far, and after many years in this place, I do not see anything on the horizon. During the cave period, I didn't really look very far ahead because I did not see myself living much longer. Well, now I do, but there seems to be nothing ahead of me now. Naturally, I realize some of it has been taken away by my actions, though. I know it, and not only that, but I knew it at the time. I saw the possibilities being sliced off the years ahead every time I decided to take that fateful left turn from where I was better off steering myself. The left, as I have said many times, is both literal and figurative. Enough of those and I no longer have choices of any kind. I might be at that point right fucking now.

Autumn in mere hours. A massive reminder of everything which has disappeared.

If there is anything with the power to take those four fucking issues and shove them to the rear, this is it. Hard to believe that anything could possibly minimize two. We discussed it quite a bit between the last two days, as well. That helped. She is very understanding and cares a great deal. Honestly, I thought about where I am in life yesterday before heading elsewhere to watch the game, and as much as I can have trouble viewing football together, yesterday none of it mattered. I really did not give a shit what came across the screen nor anything which used to torch my brain to ash. I really didn't. For me to learn enough and sidestep that issue is saying something, too. I have written volumes about it and the manner in which just an image or phrase can bring me to my knees. Well, most of it disappeared during the morning and is still nearly gone. The worry pushed issue two so far back that I have no idea if it will return anytime soon. And I have to admit that some of it was anger. I have the power to shove it back at times, and in doing so my attitude generally goes downhill fast. I become irritable and very difficult to deal with on any personal level. Yesterday during the game I kept it all to the side in favor of enjoying lunch and the football. For the most part, it worked. I succeeded.



Mojo

Gone



Each one of these weekdays carries its own mood and the ability to direct me in any number of ways. I often feel as if I am frozen, without any way of moving myself from one task to another. Many times I stand behind the sofa and look up at my show not knowing what to do at all. All this crap has to stay in my brain today or I will follow suit with the last several weeks. Nothing crazy must take place, I just need a little lift. The simple truth is sometimes I do not know what to do and the caring falls away.

Wendy is fading. Still likely the most amazing face I've ever seen, but even the dramatic command beauty can hold over me, it too is going backward right now. Eh, not 'likely', but 'actually'. Yes, I said such a thing. Thirty-three years and no equal.

Holy shit, all of a sudden the idea of the weekday routine feels good. Time to think, plan, whatever. I have much to organize as personal items continue to drift into the house and garage, and there are ways in which I can make everything fit and still be accessible. Peace and quiet, control over the media and related imagery, and I believe I can get through this day without much issue. The past is still shadowing my every move, however. That may not go away without further understanding. I know some will say that the past is gone and should remain as such, like lessons, but nothing more. Gone. And moving forward with the knowledge of the past can be helpful in avoiding a repeat. Unfortunately, I have never been able to fully let some things go. As lessons, the recollections must remain to some degree and provide a gradient of sorts, like being mindful of a mistake so it does not happen again. I have plenty of those.

The morning drive is behind me and some things are complete. My motivation is fleeting, though, so I'll have to keep in mind the value of satisfaction when the evening arrives. That reminder may help me to go beyond what I have been doing lately. As of this moment, I have no idea if I can arrive where I'd like by the time I drive again. My head is preoccupied with all manner of shit today... From sex to money to the simplicity of sitting with a cocktail in the evening. At least the sun is dropping into the sea much earlier than the peak of three months ago. Better than nothing. That means the back of the house stays temperate. Now if I could only keep myself temperate. Heh.

Another fucking stunning (yet psycho) Asian girl on the show. Wow. Eh... Never mind. God damn that long, black hair anyway.

First day of fall. And speaking of 'fall', that essay was right on the mark. Chores. Guest for lunch. Coffee. Driving. Why am I doing all this? Does it even matter anymore?

I suppose sticking with my usual will suffice today. Trying too hard to make changes might prove to be pushing too much. Like the slingshot, pushing is not good. That is another story, however, but the pushing does relate. I have learned that to force something to happen for its own sake only diminishes what could otherwise be productive or enjoyable. I don't want to ruin my days worrying over what I did the day before. There are enough shit decisions back there. If I just drive and return and then think of a few items that are outside the normal purview, they may lead to others. That is where I live these days... A gray gulag between something and nothing. Like the desert where everything confounded me over and over until I had to force it. I don't want to do that now. The day must remain peaceful and malleable. I ceased pushing yesterday and ended up fairly comfortable. Today can follow suit. Does this paragraph actually say anything?

Overnight some of the crap returned to me. I'll be tested again today, I suppose. This is becoming my lot in life. I had previously figured that thinking of the past and all which is gone from my life would continue to keep the other problems far back enough for me to concentrate, but damn it if I don't have everything at the same fucking time now. Maybe too much thinking yesterday, or perhaps I realized that the power behind the issues cannot be denied. I pushed, they pushed back. I'll have to do my best to consider the idea that too many aspects of life are now beyond my control, and continuing to chafe against them is not a good idea. Wait... Does that mean acceptance? Nope. It means I just have to keep going the way I have and organize everything. The most important (difficult) will have to stay at the forefront for the time being as I deal with the loss of a lifestyle which may have been keeping me alive all those years. Only the shadow of those wonderful events remains. It is right behind me, and speaking of pushing and force, I am being helped along gently by the fear of that shadow overtaking my pace. My life? Hopefully not. At least, not right now. With only a little more than a day off from the big four, I am beginning to believe they will begin to shadow me in the same manner. Something makes me feel it, anyway. Years ago I wrote 'the past is like a cloaked figure', with which many others disagreed. They told me to see it as lessons and actions not to be repeated. Let it go. Look forward. Well, too many times I have had to state that I cannot see the shadow as they did. Right or wrong, this is me, and this is how I deal with things. The big four came back last night, in fact, and started to push the shadow away. After sleeping on everything, this morning appears to be demonstrating just how weak and fearful I have become. The shadow is exempt from fear. All those situations have already played out and gone away, in a manner of speaking, so fearing any of that is just not realistic. There is no reason. I am not explaining this very well at all. Maybe I should stop. The bottom line is that I thought there were bigger fish to fry. Now I realize such an assumption was incorrect. Nothing has changed, another pile of shit appeared in and on my head, and dealing with the existing crap is only going to be that much more difficult now. Why not? If this is all some kind of test, I am going to be very unpleasant to say the least.

Today. Fall. The sun is lowering into the ocean earlier, the air is cooler and does not hang on as much in the afternoon as weeks ago, and the little enjoyments are that much better due to the climate. Other than those tiny lifts, I still feel weighed down unlike ever before. Maybe I just need to think about everything and try to relax. Fall is here. I used to sit and wait the entire year for this time, but now it's just not the same. More on my head.

Just like before, I keep saying the same things over and over. What a waste. Twenty-two thousand lines.

Stop.

Afternoon. My daily business is complete and I have a bit of laundry going at a very slow pace. I do not need to drive again until four hours from now. Almost lunch time. Sun is shining, albeit the air is cool, and I have the house set up to remain temperate through the afternoon. The return trip this morning had me seeking something different on the audio player, and that resulted in a trip to the forest. Upon reaching home, I realized that the forest has not been exposed for some months and was missed. Now that I have embraced it once again, things may change in the next several days. I must minimize exposure, thin out the possessions, and be mindful of my position within society. The music was harsh and unrelenting, as always, and placed my head upon the altar that was zero seven. The apartment, the height, the drowning, and the models. The escape and the impossibility. The draw of my very existence has returned. Time will tell if this latest visit to the trees bears fruit. Said forest is the only saving throw versus the shadow, yet it is a part of the same.

If it does indeed stick, others will notice. They will not like it, nor will they feel as close to me. I decided to turn everything up a notch. If I am going to be here like this longer, I may as well sharpen my claws.



124

Jesus Harold Christ on a fucking rubber crutch



Morning again. Wednesday now. The clock pays no mind to the trials piled upon shoulders. Damn.

I do not wish to drive this morning. For some reason I am not feeling hopeful like yesterday, nor am I driven to get into the routine and then go beyond. None of that is happening right now, although the hour is still early. As I look out toward the back yard, I see darkness. Not even a hint of light yet. I am up earlier than usual and full of the desire to throw some things into the car and drive up the mountain. Many years ago I felt the same -- usually not until into October -- and only the rare occasion had me actually doing it. I tried to get up and over the pass before it became snowed-in and closed for the season. The reasoning was to simply 'be out there' among the trees and water along with the feeling of separation from the familiar concrete jungle. A few days up in the thin air and then back. The drive and time were worth every second. Well, I cannot really do anything like that now. As I have laid out here lately, the resources have been depleted and I am stuck. But I still need it. I really wish to go up there again. The feeling of being in the thin air is difficult to describe, but suffice to say that it stems from the 'forest' mindset and subsequent actions here at home pretty much help me to realize that I am indeed cemented, thus making any trip abroad seem that much more enticing. I am truly stuck right now and knowing of when I may free things up is beyond current thinking.

I still cannot find any material related to the fucking rollercoaster girl. Damn it. Everything from that period is now gone, from the networks to the production companies to the damned wonder. Somewhere in the last several days I mentioned there is no more discovery. Well, it's true. Think about it. Those days spent with my eyes glued to the screen and wondering where that clear resolution had been all my life are now burned into me. The first weeks with that new television were fantastic. The shows are gone, though. Oh, I'm sure by seeking the titles of those which I can remember may yield some video on the Internet, but I need to find the one title which so far has been more elusive than almost any search I have performed in the past. I can still see her face, excitement, everything. I can even see the little French-cut top and shorts she wore during most of the filming. Damn it, anyway. Some time ago I mentioned that I had been reminded of both her and the CD girl. I can't recall what brought them back into my head, but it may have been the whole film thingy shortly before moving east. The rollercoaster girl was years later. I suppose they are now merely representations of those time periods rather than individuals over which I gush or have feelings. I don't know, really. I can say that when I am searching and changing the wording slightly to comprehensively and systematically scour for the show, my head becomes overly excited. Heart rate, respiration... Everything heightened. What the fuck is that? Over a girl from more than a decade ago? Jesus. But I am still trying. The video simply has to be out there somewhere. Something funny? The Mojo girl is just as elusive. In all these years I have never found a name or any information about her. I even emailed the marketing firm and received nothing in response. Unbelievable. She pulled at me enough to actually build a system to capture the video. That was crazy, but I digress.

The depth of compulsion over finding the rollercoaster girl is proportional to the degree to which I am off my rocker. Like Jaime or some of the others, she is out there somewhere, a decade and a half older, and living a life about which I will never know anything. Does it matter? Is there a chance in hell that I could see her again? No and no. I just want to look at her like a proper deviant. I simply must see her beauty again. The Mojo girl is always here for me. I have still images and video, and while the truth is that I do not look at her very much anymore, I believe the reason is because I know where she resides. Locked away for all time. The other one needs to be in there as well. This is the most ridiculous fucking venture over which I have ever agonized, but I am doing it anyway. Come to think of it, she may be part of the reason for the move into the forest. I have nearly zero options right now, so the resulting feelings of escape seem natural. I never react well to being stuck. A lack of information about her means I am stuck in another way. I do not like it.

Switch, before I begin to gush about her again.

The Midwest, while being a wondrous time for my exploration of drawing, was also the yacht period. As you may have noticed from some of the older writing in the archive, the yachts bled over for some years after returning to California. I had been trying to write fiction -- two of such stories which still lie unfinished -- and often one boat or another found its way into the work. I couldn't help it. That dream still comes up in mind every now and then. As I sat there during the first summer, the heat and humidity made me quite uncomfortable most of the time, and I pictured boats with air conditioning and having control over the locations where they could have traveled. The life was about as far away as any of the other dreams, however. I had little of anything, few possessions, and not much going for me until returning west. On top of that, before moving most of the way across the country, I lived in a very warm location and was dependent upon air conditioning daily. While delivering auto parts, for example, I spied other people driving with the cool air blowing their hair back. Damn, did I ever wish for comfort. When I finally acquired a newer car with the option, the comfort was wonderful. The yachts were so far out of reach that daydreaming of that type of life led nowhere. There had to be too much money involved, something which is impossible without some kind of miraculous windfall. Nope. I had not the drive nor ambition to try securing my future, let alone wealth. It was possible, I just didn't see it as such. Now? The yachts creep in here and there and help to drive home my current situation. Very depressing that I never lifted a finger to ensure I could be comfortable later in life. The only upside is being near the ocean. If not for this location (which I am lucky to live within), I would probably be miserable. Discussion of a lottery ticket brought those older dreams to mind.

Ugh. Everything is just... Ugh. Now more than ever do I need to be out there isolated from everything and everyone. More. Than. Ever. I am feeling introverted and weak. This is not helping, no matter what you may believe. I feel it, and as the writer, my instincts supersede your fucking opinion. Sometimes this does help, while during others it causes harm. I dwell. Never good.

This morning is the same as many others... Coffee, something in the background (usually familiar to me), watching the light come up outside, and then a refill of the cup so I can stretch my legs. Soon I will be getting ready to leave, making coffee and lunch for her, and then the drive. Well, I am not feeling the drive today, although thoughts of returning home later to my cocoon are swaying the idea. I do like the feeling of arriving here to embrace the solitude and take care of business. Wide open, as it were. Time to do as I please, for the most part. I do know eventually there will be the feeling of uselessness later, and I have been trying to squash that for weeks. I mentioned that I rarely get much done aside from the daily routine. Well, I seem to be in a cycle which needs to be broken. The schedule is fine, though. Finding myself sans direction in the early afternoon is very bad. Like the bathroom-ant issue some weeks ago, things will come to a head and I'll snap. At that point I can push a little and see where it takes me. Unfortunately, I usually need to get pretty angry before heading in some different direction. This morning I don't feel it. Not yet, anyway.

Ok, the daily routine is complete, plus a few other things, and half an hour shy of eleven. Not bad. I guess the motivation was there after all.

Throughout my chores, I kept thinking of what took place with Ashley. Yes, her again. She was important. I have never had the ability to be so loose as to being physical with a woman without feelings in my heart, escorts notwithstanding. I don't remember what I felt at the time (like Jasmine and Nikki), but as I sit here now so many years later, I cannot imagine going in such a direction no matter the state of my head. Ashley was the first over whom I gushed physically, and then cut to hours later and I fell into her arms like a child. Once seeing her loving eyes and feeling the solace of her arms, she took the initiative and dove. Andrea was in my heart in a matter of hours, and Juliette was mere moments. Ashley was the only woman after whom I lusted without first needing emotional comfort. Now? Hmm... I am even further away. Had I the recent opportunity to run back to the goblet, I know I would have spent the entire time alone. Very interesting. I recall a conversation with one woman -- as well as a different interaction at the bar with several others -- in which people discussed a 'hall pass', meaning their significant other was allowed to be intimate with someone famous due to the rarity. A 'hall pass'. What the fuck is that? The woman with whom I bantered about it had a list. Yep, a fucking list in her head of those she would go after if the chance arose. I informed her that I could not do the same. No way. She did not understand me. Well, that goes without saying as we were only alike in the most damaging and desperate ways. Not long after that conversation I was on the plane in the arms and gaze of the angel. After seeing the film the other day starring Eric and Jennifer, I was reminded of his name coming up by more than one woman. I was sunk so far into the idea of insecurity that I cannot even see him on the screen anymore without imploding. Not his fault, of course, as he is an actor (and a good one) and the films are his career. Still, there is that sting which drives me down, and believe me there are others. Many of them. As much as I go on about this or that regarding some gorgeous woman, the truth is the only thing I can push forth is wording. Nothing more, and I definitely do not wish to be stood directly in front of any of them. I would not survive. Call me what you will, I no longer give a shit.

The machine is exempt from every bit of that diatribe.



133

Just... Wow



The sushi girl comes to mind. As much as I desired being inside her clothing, the reality is that given the opportunity I would have been incapable of anything physical. Perhaps some images of her beauty captured. No more.

More stuff done now. Almost lunch time.

I have to work on thinning out my possessions again. I have not gone in such a direction for some time, and the feeling is that of being spread too thin. I never put much stock into the paranoia which grew out of the beginning of the pandemic, nor the fortification people seemed to be embracing when the National Guard began to creep into some cities, however the prudent thing during this time is to maintain organization and ensure we are prepared in case the shit hits the fan. Like a fire or other disaster. The power outage last year had us better defining emergency supplies and kits. Both of us are prior military, so as soon as everything went dark, the training kicked in, even after so many years. It is ingrained. Recently we solidified our things that need to go out the door in the case of being evacuated for whatever reason, and that was a good thing. I will admit that due to the condition of the world right now, I think of everything daily. Years ago I was much more diluted. Perhaps after lunch I can head in such a direction for a little while before the afternoon drive. I don't even know why I brought this up. Ugh.

Wendy. Jaime and Jamie. The Andreoid again. Holy shit, what a circumstance within which I have allowed myself. Destiny? Density? The 'K' word again? I have no idea, but here I sit, shadow right behind me.

Um... Marisa and her incredible eyes. Reminds me of Juliette sometimes.

Ah, everything finished. A delivery arrived and I squared it away, all of the crap is out of the garage (as much as can go right now, anyway), and still not even noon yet. Out in the back, I took care of some long-overdue issues with the patio and the resulting look is nice and neat. I still have piles of scrap crap, though. Perhaps a call to the local hauler can take care of that and the old gas grill. Getting all that shit out of the yard will yield a nicer look. Each step brings the comfort of the patio to a higher level, and upon digging in a little I feel good about it. One other thing is to acquire another firepit, but that may have to wait as a good one which will last years near the ocean is not cheap, to say the least. It is a luxury of sorts, anyway, and now is definitely not the time to be frivolous. The weather is warming a little which means after lunch I can nickel and dime some things that have come from family. I have to remain on top of it, too, lest the garage become unserviceable, as the military would say. I am guessing that my lack of motivation yesterday drove me to accomplish more. So far, it's working. Heh.

My daily activities may not be as exciting as the trips to the goblet, but I need to put it all down.

The holidays are pushing again. The clarity in the sky and surrounding hills this morning put me in mind of the smells of the season, and that led me to my love for the last three months of the year. Well, the first of those is a week away from being elapsed, and the others had better show me why I am still trying to keep my head up. Each year which burns away sends my head downward as the new year approaches, and each January I become very down due to the wait for it to all return again. Three months of cooler, shorter days, big family gatherings, and the feeling of those little details which I love so much... Leaves turning, seeing houses and stores changing from one look of holiday decor to the next, and the memories of those past seasons which are all still within my heart. Right now I feel lost in them, though. I had thought they would always be there and the gradient is now sharp. I recall the first Thanksgiving spent away from everyone -- nearly ten years ago -- and being so absorbed in a woman that I was blind to the effects of missing everything. Now the case is much worse because I know I caused it all. In my absence during those years after the massive shift in my life, the others have been lost. That means all which I related to this time of year was tied up in them. Now I have next to fucking nothing. Nice, huh? Just another facet of my uncaring, unfeeling behavior and severe decisions. In short, I threw it all away with nary a thought as to where I may end up. And here I am.

At the moment I cannot see a future anything like what was there for me in the past, and while we can do absolutely nothing about the progression of time nor much else, I still feel that some of the traditions could have been carried further than they were. I affected too much during those times. Way too much, in fact. During the blindness of the last decade, everything was graded aside to make room for those precious needs which I felt were the only way I could survive, and then both during and after I fell down over and over due to a combination of guilt and lamentation. Get used to this. Three subjects are going to rule my site, and this one might be the worst. I simply do not have one clue as to how to proceed beyond my broken fucking holiday season. Maybe I no longer deserve to enjoy it.

Fuck me in a front-hook bra, there is Leeta again. Damn it all anyway. Almost as cute as Wendy. God damn, she is so fucking cute that I can't understand. At least she makes me smile. That is rare these days.

Fallen again. How many fucking times do I need to go down the same fucking road? Why do certain things affect me so much? Was there a root cause to this shit, or was the problem constructed entirely within me? Was it the words way back almost forty years ago? As usual, plenty of questions and no Goddamned answers. There will never be answers because no one knows... Not even me, and I know quite a bit after all this fucking time. Or, I thought I did. The day has been nearly uneventful. The drive this morning was peaceful, lunch was nice, I finished everything I set out to do, and even worked on a few things above and beyond due to all the stuff which has entered the house in the last two months. I drove back south, waited a bit, and then returned home for the evening. Now I am sitting with a cocktail and my thoughts. The television has a familiar program (always fun to watch), I am all ready to make a nice, satisfying dinner in front of our show, and the weather is mild. Shouldn't I be happy? Well, I suppose not. The middle of the day held a trial which I brought on myself. I did it knowing full well that there would be fireworks in my head. I thought I could sit and relax, but lo and behold my brain generated discomfort so quickly and effectively that I am now so fucked up that I can barely type. If I did this to myself throughout years of worry, well, someone needs to shoot me in the fucking face. If it has been caused by others, I cannot see it. The fact is that my brain may have created issues out of weakness and my attempts to align with what I 'should' be. Well, I fucking know what I am, and more importantly, what I am not. Read that again. There are things I will never be, and the realization that everything is now behind me, including any ability to deal with all this shit, may indeed be the density. And to extend the atmospheric malapropism, I swear to Christ as I sit on this fucked up sofa, the change necessary for me to find peace is not something anyone is going to accept. Fucking suck it. I will make my own way in whatever manner I see fit. If I get frightened and withdrawn enough, this is the most pleasant I will ever be, in person or otherwise. My vision has narrowed almost as much as the choices resulting from everything I have already stated here. This is bad. Mark my words.

This day began more positive and bright than many in the past several weeks, and I had thought the reason all that time had been waning was my lack of ambition. I now see that the day's chores, activities, and thinking are directly related to my ability to rise above the difficulties inside me. And said ability is diminishing as these characters hit the screen. Today was a good one, that kind of time in which I feel accomplished, strong, and forthright. I should have fucking known that my psyche would catch up to the rest and send it into oblivion. Fuck me.

The shadow has followed and demonstrated that I cannot overpower or sidestep myself. It voided me.



139

The same woman?



This is very bad right now. And I mean worse than when I started the fucking countdown on the social site years ago. I am about to begin that timeline again. The result will either be what has been expected for many moons or the amassing of resources toward getting the fuck out and away from everyone and everything for good. I am fucking close to snapping. This is not the fault of anyone, either. It is all me. It is my ability to live within a society which never should have been built in such a manner. Said ability is floating away quickly. I am going to head back into the forest and become more unpleasant than I have ever been. Cold, isolated and unfeeling like never before. Read all that again. I am not kidding. The shadow has overpowered me and is combining with enough shit in my head to force a withdrawal. No one will get in. No one. This is so bad that my words cannot carry such weight right now. I am running short on patience and shorter on the words necessary for describing what is happening inside. At this point in time I see two options, no more. Just two. One has been stated at the beginning of this paragraph, but the second must remain hidden. Another switch, and at a time when I thought no more could be flipped. I have flipped. You'll see. One statement which has repeated here for five years is about to come to pass. No, not that one... The control. One more time: You'll see. There is no longer any other way.

I know what I am, and I know what I am not.

I have really fucked up by obsessing and gushing for years. Fucked. Up. I am broken in so many ways that I cannot even fully get into it right now. There is too much hurting me. It's all coming to a head. The imagery has been building up ever since the eight-hundredth was included in the code here. Damn it. Eight hundred images of the female form and all this time later I had no idea the effects would be a problem. Now I can't get any of it out of my head. Yesterday cruising south with my nice music was a problem. The images swirled inside and then off to the left was a bikini wrapped around someone similar to what has been displayed here. A very small bikini. I glimpsed and rolled by. Legs and lots of golden skin. Tall, slender, lovely. And then gone. Into the rear view like everything else. You may have noticed a lack of gushing about what has been out there during my drives. I have not been looking around as much, plus those occasions when I do see something of note it fades more quickly than in the past. There were some a few days ago, one yesterday besides the bikini, but I haven't been focusing upon them as much. It hurts sometimes. The girl by the road was amazing to see, not only due to being out there in a swimsuit, but because she appeared to be similar to the avocado pants from months ago. Not the same woman, of course, but some features I believe were there on display. Down the road she faded, and then I returned home and did not really think about her until this morning. Now I can barely see the suit or her hair at all. That is good. Others will come along, I know it, but I don't care anymore. I do not believe my efforts in trying to figure myself out will ever bear fruit. Too many images, too much damage from the past, and no matter how much I may rise on a given day and through whatever means, the fall will undoubtedly return when I least expect it. It happened yesterday after I did so well for hours. The next time I will try to be mentally prepared, however I don't even know if I am capable of anything these days. Only the little, temporary boosts and enjoyable things arise from time to time and I do my best to embrace them, but the fact remains I am weaker now than in the past. I guess I cannot do anything about it now. And once again I am saying the same things over and over. There has to be a way out of this loop.

I do realize one aspect is a pretty big push toward having a tough time, and that is the desire which I mentioned some months ago when realizing I may have been suppressing it. The car dealership and then the sushi girl, but I do not know how many others between. The swimsuit yesterday was not the same. Just curves. She is a person. Ugh. I never know when feelings of desire are going to be dredged up in my head, but I do know in the last few years something like that generally happens when I am alone and dreaming of whatever. Writing here, too. I honestly can't recall the desire flaring while out in the world, partly due to nothing of note gracing my vision, and partly because I do not remember. Some of the more dramatic events -- like the server in the Mexican restaurant that day at the bar -- stick with me because of the gushing here. I can't remember what that woman looked like, either. None of her. Just black pants and long hair. While I can admit that I experienced tinges of physical desire while visiting the bar that day, nothing felt dire or damaging aside from her appearance. The desire always leaves me soon enough. I may not understand it, but I at least know there is little I can do about it. I might be pushing it away, too. Don't know for sure. If I was suppressing the desire to jump her back then, I did not know it until recently. The back of my mind may have been driving the words and images here, as well. This is one of those situations which may never have a resolution to my satisfaction, though. Plenty of problems have been brought up here and I have gone over and over them for a very long time, afterward concluding that I learned exactly nothing. Well, the desire may be another of those parts inside which cannot be understood. A beautiful woman bringing thoughts of physicality? I believe such a thing is more common than I had thought years ago. Action is different, and almost entirely alien to me now. The simple truth is that the images and stories of my past trips all over the place bring the feelings. I believe that is natural for anyone, so I won't beat myself up over it. I did it, though. I put those words and racy photos here. Desire for what was written? Probably, and memories too. Desire for the models in the images? Sometimes, but nothing crazy. Again, I don't think such feelings are problematic. The real issue is everything having been built up inside me until I can't see straight. The desire to write everything here leads to other problems and then I sit back and feel bad about spewing, shortly afterward realizing that sometimes the frustration over not being where I need drives me to distraction and then I feel even worse. I don't think much of this paragraph is making any sense. I need to think about what brings the feelings of need in the first place. If the words lead, I can keep such a fact in mind and work with it. If the images lead, I can alter them as I have on occasion. If something else inside me is pushing, well... I might just lose my mind for good in trying to figure it out.

Morning again. Last night was tough and I feel no different now. The upside which is keeping my head clear this morning is no driving today, although I do need to go to the market for a little while. That's no big deal now and much easier than months ago. After that, I will have lots of time here to embrace this crap and continue my efforts with all the shit that keeps showing up in the garage. For now, though, I have hours to myself. This is good because my brain has been filled up and wring out. I need the morning solace right now. And I know what happened yesterday but am hesitant to reveal it. Sorry. But I do know and am not happy about being so fucking screwed up and weak. Fuck society anyway. The shadow is part of the problem, but not as bad as I had thought. Oh sure, those wonderful memories of the past can cut me to pieces, however two things are apparent: I know the natural progression of life is going to take place no matter whether we like it or not, and I am not the only poor soul missing the past. I have to be fair with this because there are others feeling the same. In a rare moment of caring, there it is.

Ah, that's bullshit. I actually care tremendously for others. I just don't say it often. Sometimes my problems have to take priority in favor of others' due to my desire to survive. And speaking of surviving, take a gander at the end result of everything I am experiencing...

Remember the little boy standing at the bottom of the empty hopper? I want to talk to him. I want to tell him that there will be an occasion years later in which he will threaten his own life. I need him to know the gravity and effects of such a thing along with the reasoning behind him feeling that way. He must know that the consideration will cause all manner of trouble at the time and in the future. I want to tell him that it's ok.

And I want to tell him to follow through.

The reasoning is sound... Now more than ever."



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ren

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