October 1st, 2020 7:19am pdt

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


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"Void was the start. Now? Voided, like a personal check from Satan himself.

Yesterday pushed me a little further than I could handle. There is much with which I have to deal on a daily basis, and even without working, my stress level can rise out of control at times. I reached the top last night just before going to bed. Now? First thing in the morning and I already feel weak and defeated. I am supposed to get things done and make nice for everyone, but I would rather tell them all to take a flying leap right now. I don't want to hear any voice other than those on the television, and even they are annoying the hell out of me right now. I need something there, though. I guess they can remain in the background for the time being. I have to think, and the house should be quiet in roughly an hour. I need it.

Down we go again, along the river I've mentioned too many times, and sliding backward into the period I do not like to mention these days. Eleven, when everything was dire and I felt a strong desire to enjoy what I could and then go away. Well, I am most of the way there now, except with one very important difference. I will not go away because it is no longer feasible. Perhaps if I can get myself together enough in the next few years I can go somewhere, but for the time being, I am (say it with me) stuck. Considering all that has been on my shoulders, I had to do a little something to bring me joy. I am glad I did. The world is no longer in charge of me because I can get things in order enough to be safe and comfortable right now. It will take effort, but the result is too important to pass up. The little enjoyment I just exercised was the beginning. Even though I am indeed dropping through the floor this morning, I can go the other way given time. I really can, and don't give me a blast of shit for being positive after years of the opposite. My survival is important, and that right there is the one huge difference between the current period and that of eleven... I care. Back then I didn't give a hoot in hell what I did most of the time because the consequences were never going to catch up. Now? I have to be mindful. One step at a time.

Ah the movie day. Always nice. Nothing much aside from my usual routine finished, although Saturday means I should be able to relax a bit.

There is Joanna again. Maybe I should include her first name in the story somewhere. Heh. Another 'J'. Good God she is (was) a doll.

The past again. I kept it away pretty well yesterday. This morning it's hitting me with more force which means I will have to be mindful of what I let loose today. I don't want others knowing of my difficulties. No details. I have to keep it to myself almost all of the time. The effort is exhausting but so far I have not faltered. The last two or three days have been tough due to the stress catching up with me. I lashed a little, backed off and cooled, and then lashed more later. I can't have that right now. Remember the glue? Well, here we go again. I am holding up others which means I run out of strength before ensuring that I can maintain myself, so I simply lose out... As usual. Above I mentioned that I had done something for myself which brought a smile. That is true, and this morning I feel even more strongly about the idea. If I can't enjoy parts of my days and only work to keep others happy, something bad will eventually take place. Either I will tell them to fuck off, or my behavior will change enough to force them away from me. I can be very unpleasant at times but do not wish it. So, I did something for me, and I intend to push a little more toward myself in the coming days. The others will just have to deal with it. I am very unhappy, period.

Today is football day again. Like last week, I do not care what transpires. I am going to watch, although without full attention. There are other things on my mind which need to be hashed before I will relax enough for enjoyment of the games. I am preoccupied with the stuff which must go out the door for organization and space. Some parts of the house need to be thoroughly gone over due to moisture. Nothing terrible, but I have to get on that pretty quick. Along with the organization project, these things will occupy my head enough to keep the devils of the past from overtaking me as I walk the day ahead. I cannot lose out right now, and if that means other people's problems are pushed away, well... I don't care.

And the past. The last few movies across my television have been from the eighties, and before that, a handful from the nineties. A couple of titles place me far enough back to feel the pull of life just before moving east. As I said before, I did not look toward the future aside from daydreaming of those things I wished to experience. There were no plans. We went about our days as she considered where we might have been headed while I considered my good fortune at simply being with her in the first place. Just before that time was Michelle and our short-lived relationship, and considering the gradient between those two personalities, I can see a connection which drew me to feel the machine dream as early as twenty-eight years ago. My relationship at the time (after Michelle) was fascinating and fulfilling for the most part, and we did much together. She was the first woman to fully listen to my needs and did her best to make me happy. Coupled with the comfort of home and our families each hosting holiday events from time to time, the period was amazing. I look back and see her smiling ear to ear at the simplicity of choosing a Christmas tree. We spent as much time together as we could, too. The movies (which were the rediscovery of the domes), dinners here and there, and trips to the south with and without family were wonderful. Everything felt bright and new. I see it all back there. Contrast and context. The little enjoyment upon which I pulled the trigger yesterday is related to the period in question. When it arrives, I may just sell off everything else in order to both simplify and focus. The one item will be enough. It references three periods of my life beautifully and will be something at my side for the remainder of time. The most important of those time periods has the ability to either make me smile or slice me to pieces. We were as happy as we could realize at the time. The possibility and promise of which I speak now and again was there, too. All of it. I felt that the path forward was wide and welcoming. Sitting here this morning I can feel the wonder of the past, although it is currently gone from my world. That time held so many different aspects of happiness that it hurts to recall some of them. We did our best to hold tight to the moments, as well. I believe she was wise enough to realize that once treaded, those wondrous moments would never return. There could be others with just as much happiness, but the uniqueness would be lost. We had to embrace each as if it would not last. And we did. Right now at this keyboard I am feeling some of it. All lost. Everything we did seems magical now, as if I should have recognized the glowing aura around our world at the time. I honestly do not recall appreciating everything as much as perhaps I should have, although the memories are not all clear now. The item which is being shipped to me represents a culmination of years and memories which will shine and hopefully help me to keep my head up after so many damaging years. I lost my way at some point. I really did.

Holy fuck, what I just saw all over the screen. Damn. Never for me. Just... Never for me.

I cannot help but focus upon the four-year period before the Midwest. At that age, the worry over day-to-day life did not yet exist. I was able to enjoy our relationship and those activities and trips which now define the period. Without going into excruciating detail, allow me to say that she was as much wonder as the world. She changed the manner in which I viewed relationships, period. Upon returning from the Midwest after I fucked everything over, my gaze became different, more focused, and rather severe. She was wonderful in many ways, completely fair all the time, and loving to a fault. The period after our split was wrought with difficulty. It's written all over me. The way the future appeared in the beginning did not hold up much longer. I could only focus upon the present. And there it is on the screen again. Maybe a different program is in order. That is absolutely painful to see. Anyway, the early nineties might have been the peak of my life. As depressing a thought as that last statement may be, I cannot deny that all of my actions after knowing the same type of happiness was impossible were hurtful. I sit here how as the product of such a realization. I cannot repeat anything, I cannot go back in time, and I cannot see anything through the eyes I have thrown away.


Lots of negatives here. Sections of my life have been voided.

I really didn't need to see such things on the television this morning. The movie does have a stellar cast, did a good job of holding well to history, but still... The visions of the past, my wide eyes over everything, and the wonder on the screen all combined to drop me just a touch further down. Ugh.

Never me. The wonder is gone forever. The woman in the film is amazing beyond comprehension, like cuter than the fucking walnut girl. Jesus, and French in origin, but with a ton of wavy black hair flowing all over the place in the wind. No top, just a tiny wrap below. Eyes that go on forever, all hopeful, young and bright. Dark skin, nipples pointing in directions I cannot understand, and above all of it, the expression of hope. That is what kills me. Not the breasts, and you can believe it. Her expression. Amazing, to the last.

All of it is flooding me this morning. The scenes in the film notwithstanding, I see those trips to the mall, the restaurants and the way San Jose looked back then, her bright eyes next to me in the car, and all of the things of which we dreamed and spoke for years. The beginning was actually before the nineties, at the tail end of my worst decade, yet still the time was precious. I just didn't see it as I do now. I can't get those feelings back because so much has changed. The hope and dreams of film, the feeling of knowing there was much ahead, and the connections in my life which held me in a cradle of warmth. Gone and never to return. Did I know? Did I appreciate every second? From Marisa's eyes to my friend going into the Marines and on to the sound system my dad and I built for his television. The meals in that house. My truck outside, holding a bevy of memories within its cab, many of which were with her all over the place. My birthday in ninety-two. The trip to Disneyland in ninety as we rolled down the interstate overheated and uncomfortable, and then the following year when we rented a car and cruised in air-conditioned comfort and slept in a much nicer hotel. The holidays. Everything. Voided now. And then a slap from the screen this morning which made me feel as if everything I have done in my life is now meaningless. So sad now... Just sad.

The sun is already shining but I need not worry about the weather heating too much. Not in September.

I have to make changes.

Monday morning. No driving for a week. Yesterday was football and then movie day. I had the idea to put the movie from Saturday back on for a little while to refresh her memory while I took care of some business, and then watch the second half together. All three of us watched, in fact. It was nice. The football was ok, too, I guess. Some difficulty here and there.

My head rather flooded yesterday during some points. Nothing terrible, just uncomfortable. Other aspects of the last few days have been taking precedence over the daily weakness and related bullshit. Those years and all which took place within such a wonderful sphere of life. It was a section... A slice of the whole which now stands as more important than I can easily describe. I keep thinking that had I felt enough appreciation for those short years I might be more receptive to what is taking place right now. Maybe, but I'm not sure. Or perhaps I could have guided myself better. If those processes long passed indeed jaded me ad created unsolvable problems, I may be wrong about this entire line of thinking, but the possibility does exist. I felt that I knew what I was doing -- somewhat -- and moved along thinking only of the near future. By the time we moved east, I was unsure of what lay ahead, but I thought perhaps a fresh start there might help me to feel better. No dreams of escape as we already lived quite a distance from the city, no more worry over the mass of sheep everywhere for the same reason, and a slower, simpler day-to-day life due to the way things move along in that place. Leaving everything here behind did not really hit me until over a year later, and by then I was realizing that my future was just as uncertain as it was at home. Thinking about all of that stuff yesterday pretty much squashed what may have taken place in my brain. Plenty of opportunities came along throughout the day -- mostly afternoon when the first game was finished -- but I continued to drift back to those happier times and wondering if such feelings are gone forever. With company here on a Sunday, snacks and such laid out for football, I cannot fall down. I have no wish to appear so weak, nor do I have any desire to make others uncomfortable. I held it together just fine and did my best to make sure everyone enjoyed the afternoon. Honestly, by the time we sat down for dinner, the only thing left inside was the past. Above I mentioned doing something nice for myself, and now the more I think of that act, the more I will appreciate it as the item relates to the past quite a bit. It may end up representing those periods of enjoyment and adventure. And though I need to get some things in order so I can make room for that special item, the effort will be worthwhile. I already know. Such begins today.

I have lots of time this week. She is on vacation and will be here most of the time. That means I can go above and beyond the usual. A little moral support comes in handy at times. Some days I feel completely helpless because I am alone, and embracing the solitude holds other difficulties as well, but I will not get into them right now. The projects need to advance for a while before the sun is too high. Yesterday morning I mentioned that there had been little worry about the weather, but by afternoon it really heated the house. I was fairly surprised. I can already tell this morning that the same is going to take place, plus the jet has shifted and sent smoke here again. I will need to be vigilant in the heat. Ugh, but there is little I can do, so bitching is out right now. I suppose I'll just have to see where the day goes.

I am always going to see many images which I am better off avoiding, however I will not give up on the fucking sport due to my head. It has been my favorite for decades and one of the most important aspects of fall and Winter. Nothing can change or I will miss it too much. So, I have to keep doing what I have been in order to get through the day. One little smidgen yesterday pushed and I did fine. By the time I came up with the brilliant idea to get some work done with the movie in the background, everything seemed calmer. And a part of the situation came to mind just this morning which I had not considered. I believe a decent portion of being uncomfortable due to society's push and what takes place in other people's heads is my lack of control over anything. Oh, of course I can force the issue but that will end up all bad for everyone. Not a good choice. I sit and remain quiet while my head computes the wonder of shutting everything down with a thought. No control. Big fucking surprise there, huh? Right now I am alone yet still thinking about troubling times. This will pass and I'll get on with my morning, but until such time as I can step away from my feelings and move in another direction, I have to explore. One moment I feel that I have said too much here and the next I keep on gushing. This cannot become embarrassing or I'll be angry. To be honest, I am already a little angry about yesterday and my brain going through familiar motions, but that is by no fault of others. All me, as I have said before. The past is easier to deal with on more than one level and does not threaten me at all, and that means I am hoping it will take me away today. I need the distraction of good memories even when they have the ability to wreak havoc on my future hopes. I can deal with it. If yesterday's visions of discomfort continue to hang there before my eyes, some sort of turn has to take place for me to carry forward with my day. I have no wish to spout too much here. After all this time, I do not believe such is necessary to get the point across.

Today feels like another test. My space will not be just mine, the clock is already running, and memories and flashes are coming by from yesterday. Perhaps those years during the early nineties are issue five.


I have to stay on my toes this morning. Trouble has been brewing inside. Very difficult. A test? Ugh.

Sitting here each morning affords me the time to think and hopefully organize my ideas and memories enough to place on the screen. Some of these are really haphazard, though. I try, but honestly I cannot keep my head in one direction for very long before spinning in circles. This morning, for example, I became distracted by the past to such a degree that I had to shove the computer aside and go out into the back yard. I couldn't shake the fantasy, and like those days dreaming of Alexis and how much she resembles Ashley, I often do not have the drive to get it out of my head before disastrous behavior. This day is no different. The only one tidbit which helps me accept what goes on inside is the previous difficulty (yesterday) flies away for a while. But still, I cannot have this on a fucking daily basis. The effort is tremendous. I have to pass the time and do something else for a while until the feeling goes away. And I mean far away. Michelle and Andrea may have ruined me in this way. My plight is not their fault, though. I just mean the circumstances surrounding those relationships were vastly different than the last several years. I cannot ever get it back, either. Like the highly enjoyable period mentioned above, it is all gone. And I will admit that a good portion of that loss drives dreams of a machine. I just can't fucking help it. There may be no other way. Losing my past to the cold elimination of time means I have to find something else which has the ability and power to lift me from the pain of losing one of the most important aspects of my life. And though there is an occasional outlet, I cannot discuss it here.

I would give anything to go back there again, if only to ensure appreciating each second. Nope. And don't hand me that 'the past is a lesson' horseshit. I will not accept it. We are all different, so stifle your shit and leave me alone.

Now, before I get angry and throw all manner of crap to the keyboard, let me continue with whatever the hell I am trying to say. Honestly, sometimes I have no idea if these entries actually convey anything or if they just meander all over the place and turn out empty. Do you know? Never mind. The idea of the four issues taking a back seat to fall driving the past into me with force is interesting, as if I maximized those problems due to narrowing my vision so much that everything else important to me has been shut out. I guess it's possible, and if I know anything at all, it is the idea that I don't know everything. I can be pretty rigid and pushy (lippy), but the truth is that there are other things at work here which I may not understand. I have no education in such matters, so I have to do my best to figure it out. Those two periods way back in the eighties had to have a massive impact on how I developed from there forward, but I cannot fully analyze them. I'm smart enough to know that I don't know.

Frankly, I am surprised to be sitting here at all when you consider the amount of stress upon my shoulders these days. I am turning into my father in that my caring for others sometimes takes precedence over myself. That is not always bad, but still... He bent over backwards for years taking care of my mom, and her needs were unreal. Her health. But he worked and plowed through it all for more than three decades. All his dreams of retirement and traveling turned to dust because of what he had to do. In the end we lost him, and I knew the severity of dreams unrealized almost instantly. Now the feeling is dire as I see mine fading into the background of those issues which rule me. The same thing cannot take place for me as it did for him or I will be the worst example of a human being imaginable.

Tough morning. Monday. Garbage trucks and coffee, while the show (familiar and safe) rolls along up there on the big screen. I have much thinking today. I am hurt, and the resulting difficulty is driving me into the fucking ground. Full of desire and not a fucking thing I can do about it.

Those parts are nothing but trouble. Problems, over and over for the last four decades. I don't even want them anymore but there is nothing which can be done aside from perhaps therapy for the billionth time. I don't want it. There is a chance speaking with someone objective might help, of course, and to deny it would be ignorant, but the truth is nothing bad could come of it aside from embarrassment. I need no more of such a thing in my life, however. Round and round I've gone through it in the past. Look at me now... Constantly fearful, hesitant, withdrawn, and in need of the most elusive enjoyments in existence. I worry much of the time and the possibility of even a fraction of that worry being alleviated by a therapist is enticing and keeping the very idea right at the forefront these days. The problem lies with actually feeling comfortable enough to discuss this crap. While the truth is that building a relationship with those ears does bring comfort through familiarity and understanding, it has to begin somewhere, and that is what keeps me away. On top of that, the search for an acceptable office could be exhausting and I am already fucking tired the hell out. But I have to remain open, so the idea will stay in my head for the time being. Most of the time I sit here with no idea of how to proceed with pretty much anything. Ugh. Today is no different. My routine will not return until next week, too. The time will be altered but I guess I can deal with it.

I changed the images in the left column this morning. The older ones are not blowing my skirt up anymore, and knowing I have professed my love and gushed over the Raven in a dozen entries, the image does not need to be there any longer. I'm switching to other fish in the skillet. She knows how I feel, anyway. And the rewind/pause/play symbolism is also gone in favor of something pleasant yet haunting. As long as the menu does not become lost in the shuffle, the images will remain.

With regard to yesterday's trials and my subsequent drop this morning, I should be stating that I made it through. I am still here and not blowing up the screen with issue two. I knew there would be things bouncing around my head for most of the day, and I now believe that knowing before the fact helps. I still worry, but at least I can deal with myself a bit better while alone. Maybe there is a touch of pride in there, too. I don't know, though, because at any second I can generate all manner of shit and then fall off the edge of the planet like so many occasions in the past. I am not there right now, however, and I only know of part of the reason. Well, two really. One is the analysis and exposition, the other is the item I am hoping will arrive within days. That is going to be amazing and I am chomping at the bit waiting. The time will arrive soon enough, so I just need to be patient. As for the analysis, nothing can stop me from continuing to explore and I see no harm in it. I may be helping myself and I may not, but no harm. Either up or remaining where I am.

I don't know if I mentioned anything about the movie the other morning, but I watched a bit and drove myself into the ground very quickly after seeing a situation I can never feel. Oh, I did mention it up there somewhere... 'Never me'. Well, it's still in my head right now. I can't get the imagery out. And before you start assuming or guessing, there was a woman involved, and one which I had forgotten throughout decades of the film not coming to mind. God damn it anyway. I saw her all over the screen in excruciating clarity, smiling, hair flowing all over the fucking place, and then my head went straight back to Vegas and watching more than one woman in front of me on the windy bridges. Hair, smiles, breasts bouncing and calling out to me... The whole shitaree, again. I watched -- against my better judgment -- and then went straight to the largest source of information in the world to find her. Well, she is nearly four decades older now, but it doesn't matter in the least. I live in the past most of the time anyway, so the images from the early eighties were there for my perusal and subsequent capture. Now I have her frozen in time like the rest. This time the face is not related to a time period because when the film was released I had been less than happy, to put it mildly. Right smack dab in the middle of two differing troubling situations. I did not see the movie back then. Perhaps a handful of years later, but I don't know. Seeing her up there the other day fucked me all up. I don't need to describe her at all, either. The appearance doesn't matter now. The feelings are what take priority, and this time they are bad. She caused me to look back to the past yet again and see where I was and the way the world looked to me at the time. Open. Wide fucking open, really. I went over this but I have to mention again the place I am in right now. It is closed off, dark, and full of worry.



I didn't know the memories were going to carry forward like this. Months ago when I found Jaime, the issues were in complete control of me on a given day, especially while not alone. I dreamed of a place in which they could be minimized as much as possible, and a woman who could facilitate such a situation. I went on and on about the idea and ended up feeling even weaker of mind for the effort. Well, this is six months later and every single subject which has arisen here since then is now behind me. Oh, the four will return -- I'm pretty certain number four itself is going to push me in a little while, like any other morning -- but for the time being I cannot get past this late year. I recall being intrigued by the idea of no more nineteen on the calendar, and thinking about it into the mid nineties. It felt like a wall, hurdle, or something similar. Even further back we used to discuss our age at the turn of the year. Now that change is twenty-plus years behind. That is a part of my thinking now. It's gone. I did not even notice what had been happening all that time. Something dramatic was required for me to pay attention, and it happened this past week. Yes, I had put little tidbits and events here related to the Midwest, the theatres, and other things, but the fact is just within the last several days have I seen precisely where I am and why. The four issues seem trivial in comparison. They'll return, but not with the same force as in the past. When they do, I am going to be very unpleasant, to put it mildly.

Today will be peaceful. I do not have much beyond the typical schedule, no driving at all, and I should have much time to myself. The enjoyment I ordered from Florida has been shipped and should arrive by Saturday. I was hoping it would be here sooner, but alas I have no control. Heh. Control. I am going to experience a tinge of guilt for a few minutes upon opening the box, but it will pass. This is something which has the power to keep me sane a while longer and I need it like I need oxygen to breathe. Anyway, enough of that incoming bliss. The next several hours will prove to be relaxing once the house is empty. I have things to do, and my pace will be specific along with the continuing show in the background. Yesterday the weather dropped off more than I had expected, meaning the house never really became very warm. The evening ended up quite nice. I will need to keep an eye on the thermometers today because our forecast is often sketchy.

The movie up there right now involves a future in which people use time as money, meaning there is a clock embedded in each person's arm, and the remaining time is a commodity. It can be used to purchase things, traded, or given away. The rich have the ability to live forever, whereas others must struggle and lose their lives at twenty-five if nothing changes. Interesting, that living forever thingy. That would come in handy for me right now, given the proper circumstances, of course. The very thought of unlimited years could be good or bad. Well, due to my recent bout with all of the depressing wonder of the past and its absence now, I thought the film's premise was intriguing. Impeccable 'timing' that it aired this morning while I am considering the power my past now holds over each day. I am certain others go through a similar process sometimes, too. I am not unique in missing those times. The idea seems natural as we age. But as I have stated on many an occasion, there are still things I enjoy. Daily things. Simple stuff which keeps me in my little cocoon just like many years ago. I have no reason to head in any other direction right now because I do not know what may be coming down the road pointed in my direction at any given moment. Something may come along and help. I have to remain positive right now.

I actually have a plan for today, and it begins in just a little bit. Less than an hour. I won't sit here too much longer because I have to get up and moving. Yesterday I spent quite a bit of time on the sofa between the television, the phone, and this machine. I had not set out to accomplish very much in the first place due to the holiday, but still, I now feel that the hours flew away from me. Today I will hold on to them a little longer and move some crap around. Laundry, kitchen, whatever. And maybe another step to clean up the back yard. I have to keep a bit of momentum or I'll end up with a cocktail before lunch, and that means the frightful transition into a lazy pile way too early. My evening must be earned in order to feel rewarding.

Still no word from the company to whom I sent the resume last week. I'm beginning to feel as if all my technical experience and expertise has drifted back in time too far to recover. I still know plenty and am capable of much, however the bottom line is having been out of the industry for too long. All the while I am getting older, too. Companies cannot discriminate with regard to age, but still... Give me a fucking break. I know how the employment world turns. I still have backup for another three months -- right up to just shy of Christmas -- and if something does not materialize, I am going to have to hold a fucking fire sale. Part of me is very concerned, while another part believes this is where I belong after all of the past wreckage I have caused. Time will tell, though. I have not lost hope... Yet.

Time for a story.

When we drove across the country to relocate near her hometown, her eyes were wide with hope and bright with possibility. Mine were close, but not all the way there. I was worried over hauling everything we owned more than two thousand miles and to a place with which I had been mostly unfamiliar. We took off and planned to camp as much as possible along the way to save money. Well, things went south in two different ways. My truck was damned-near incapable of carrying (and more importantly, stopping) all of the weight in its bed along with the car in tow. Passing through Nevada showed me that my brakes had been heating quite a bit and we had to pull over and let them cool here and there. That was not good, but at least we were not in a hurry. In the end, the brakes held up just fine upon arriving on flatland. The worry took me, though. We rolled into a National Park on the east side of Nevada to spend the night cheaply, and sometime during the evening I lost it badly and broke down for hours. I kept looking at the truck sitting there overloaded with all our stuff and so many miles in front of us. I just couldn't help but be scared to death. In fact, another notch that evening and I would have turned us north to the interstate and driven right the hell back home. I was that scared. Well, she comforted me as much as possible, and when morning arrived we continued on the long journey.

Utah. A small town on the Green River which is the gateway to western Colorado. The day had been long and began with us visiting the limestone caverns near our campsite for a tour. A light meal, and then to the highway. I was overjoyed to see more rolling hills rather than steep grades. My poor truck held it together, too. We rolled most of the way across Utah and stopped in Green River for gas. She noticed that I had been feeling more confident since the previous day's fall, and suggested we take it easy and not drive the rest of the way into Grand Junction. Well, it was afternoon and I could not disagree. We secured a motel and picked up some dinner. Upon arriving back in the room, I noticed that the television had HBO and one of my favorite movies was just beginning. Holy shit did I ever feel comfortable at that moment. Between the peace and quiet of the room, the food, and the idea of sitting in front of the television for the evening, my head blew up with joy and I started dancing to the HBO feature theme. She laughed, we sat and ate, and I slept infinitely better than the night before. Fresh and recharged, we took off in the morning to visit my relatives just a couple of hours up the road.

Into town, visit, sleep, breakfast, and out. On through the canyon along the mighty Colorado.

Glenwood Springs. A beautiful, embracing little town just before the interstate turns and heads all the way up to the Eisenhower Tunnel, which is over eleven thousand feet above the sea. We cruised into town and along the frontage until realizing that there was a huge gas station just behind. She suggested we fill up and look to the phone book for a motel. I had visited the gorgeous city a few times in the past, so the plan was two nights for enabling us to relax and see the hot springs pool and vapor caves. I agreed about the gas, turned the overloaded vehicles (her car was on a tow dolly and full of stuff) into a wide and deserted intersection to reverse course, and something snapped inside my transmission. Seconds later, dead. Oy. With the car still attached, my truck sat halfway through a u-turn, unable to move. Within minutes, and by the time I realized that a thousand miles from home with no transmission was going to be a problem, a police car ventured by. He asked and I told. The officer turned to find three young guys walking away at a brisk pace and calculated that they were out after curfew. He yelled for them to come over, after which he stated that if they helped us push the truck into the big gas station, he would let them go home without a citation. I pulled the car off the dolly, parked, and the six of us meandered the truck into a spot at the station. Thank the maker that place was huge. He directed us to a nice motel around the corner and we took off with a carload of crap.

Morning. I walked to the nearby service station -- which was also a shop, luckily -- and told them a big story. A little while after breakfast, my truck had been towed, the dolly stored, and they had used a lift to take a look. We were told to go about our day as they performed a diagnosis. So, off to the laundromat and then back to the motel to get our stuff organized. A little television, some strolls around the area, and in the afternoon I returned to the shop for some wonderful news. Not. The mechanic informed me that the main shaft was shot to hell from being abused for almost thirty years, and I needed an entire transmission. Holy fucking shit, batman. I had to make some phone calls. My parents responded with a wire for more than the amount of the repair which I promptly gushed my appreciation and told them I was good for it. No problem, they told me, just be careful. The following morning I went and paid the shop, and he told me to hold tight because a new transmission meant the driveshaft may need to be altered due to the length. Ugh. Okay. Go for it, I told him. We then proceeded to enjoy some time around town and secured several more nights at the motel. I remember walking across the bridge over the interstate and constantly commenting that I couldn't wait to see what was around the bend. Heh. Day after day we went along the river and over that bridge to see my truck on an above-ground lift and all our worldly possessions piled in the bed. The town is lovely, there is much to see and do, so being stuck there for more than a week was not as bad as I had originally thought. We had to keep things on the cheap, though. I picked up a couple of paperbacks to read, we had some local food here and there, and spent two visits at the pools and caves. Sure enough, just as I sunk into the chair in our room with my book and snacks, the call came in that the driveshaft had to be taken to Rifle for modifications. Two days later and it was shortened, welded, and balanced. Oy. What an ordeal with us sitting around and seeing sights.

Truck back in one piece, we soon hit the road and continued toward the Midwest, albeit at a slower pace. Upon reaching Grand Island, we realized that the funds for gas and food would run out before the Mississippi. Shit. She contacted her dad and he wired us money. Damn, did I ever feel lost out there sometimes.

The rest is another story. I brought up a segment of the drive for a reason. I will write more about it later.


I broke down that day out of a lack of security. I had always been comfortable and did not worry about myself at all. If I recall correctly, I lived with my parents at the time, and we felt after a few years of being so far apart (she lived about thirty miles from me), combined with my desire to go somewhere less populated, moving to her home town would be good for both of us. An adventure, as it were. Well, I suppose along the way the idea of being completely alone out there and responsible for ourselves became too much for a time. I lost it bad, and sitting here right now I can feel the same type of discomfort. I am concerned about going back out in the world. Scared. Not the pandemic, just being near others. I am strange that way, I guess. Whatever... No one gives a shit about it anyway. I just feel similar to all those years ago, and thinking that we had so many trials and difficulties yet pushed right on through meant there was confidence and drive inside me. Where did all of it go?

No answers. Twenty-three thousand lines.

This is all so very bad. I need to get up and take care of business today but have no fucking idea of how to go about anything. Perhaps when the coffee is gone I can move in some direction and see what develops. Today is her birthday, but everything which normally would be planned is unavailable. Oy. I wish the world was ok right now. I hope she can enjoy the day despite everything being so different now. I don't really give a shit about my birthday coming around anymore, but not everyone feels as I. Perhaps I am worrying over nothing.

This morning has been fairly smooth so far, no worries about issues. Upon first arising and making coffee, I felt a tinge and became fearful of the resulting difficulty. It is common in the morning but today has been okay so far. I've been here at this crap and thinking of the day ahead, and perhaps that is enough to keep my head above water. Time will tell, I suppose. There are little things I can embrace which help to keep the pressure away. Jesus fucking hell, the girl on the screen. No lines, no name, twenty-six years ago, no nothing. Fuck me anyway. But God damn was she something. I sincerely wish the sight did not cause so much turmoil inside. Compulsion, issues, desire, and the dire feeling that if I can't see more, I will not survive at all. I hate it sometimes. She is an actor doing her job, cast in a role which shows off beauty (like a casino of sorts), and is on and off the screen in seconds. Sometimes longer, like Leeta, but still not much at all. I saw her and fell down a little. Why does this still happen after trying to compute the reason? No help. She's gone for now. Fucking amazing, too. Seeing that kind of woman begins a process inside me which is difficult to halt. In the past I have felt a similar pull -- once after the woman on California Street, another on Oak Street years ago -- and fell down in the same manner. It is difficult to explain and may be something I cannot adequately put down here after all this time. I've tried and failed, so perhaps I must think further before spouting after feeling this way. Turmoil does not properly convey the process, there is much more. I am reminded of the Raven standing before me at the train station on that horrible day and seeing her right there in front of my eyes. Beyond that image, there was the evening when she professed her desire to have me completely, after which I wrestled like never before. The picture of what I saw between her toes and the top of her head is impossible to put into words. Right there, inches from my face. Never in my life had I gazed at such beauty and wonder, and the only close example was Andrea... A woman who allowed anything I wished. Well, the Raven offered the same. My head exploded. The point was to study, but it fell away so quickly that I spun in circles while staring at her thighs. When she turned, I felt I could die at that moment without regret. I still do not understand, though. None of it. Torture, honestly. I am tortured even now. This is the second time I have seen such a shape on the same show. I do not have the words right now and may never. And this brings me to another problem.

Obsessing over people far away or on television is one thing, but to see it in person is entirely different. All my strength was required to resist her at the time. Since that evening with her nearly nude and right fucking there, I have had occasion to measure, stare, pose, almost anything I wish, with another. I tried to photograph and it went south because I could not concentrate. The lighting was bad, my head failed to focus, and eventually I realized that the idea of studying may be impossible due to the desire for physical contact. Even the woman who nearly allowed me to study her hands may have ended up shoving me away. I do not believe I am strong enough to keep the distance between myself and all that wonder. Months ago I expressed the idea of the desire having been suppressed and as of this moment I honestly believe it is true. Of course that does not mean I have wanted to jump each example of beautiful form which has graced my vision, it only means that the closer I became, the stronger the feeling. I may sit here now better off for never finding the right type of woman to allow me such exploration. The one I mentioned whom I tried to capture with the camera is an entirely different story and I cannot go into it right now. Suffice to say, everything summed is a massive problem the likes of which has never come up before. The Brunette was similar to the Raven in that she knew each person had some sort of 'thing' which they focused upon while physical, or something which was necessary for their satisfaction. I suppose I am in that category because she read me like yesterday's news and behaved accordingly. She indulged me, and aside from her generous offer on my birthday, we discussed and subsequently engaged in some things which blew me up inside. She allowed much, bless her soul. And believe me when I say that I had just as much difficulty accepting her loving manner as I did sitting directly before the Raven and her minuscule thong. Whew! Enough of this now.

Sometimes I need to avoid spouting here regarding desire. Too tough on my weakened brain. There are enough other things in my head which need attention. Heading in the direction of those women and the time spent in their embraces is only going to drive me out of my mind. Not good. I am compelled at times, however.

I just noticed the line count of the last entry is 666. Oy. Might have to add one carriage return for my peace of mind.

Wow am I ever fucked up this morning. Some of the issues never leave my head, and I am not referring to the four. While two comes up and slams me every now and then, it feels minimal right now compared to what I am experiencing after gushing about the Raven and the Brunette. I had thought of Andrea as the pinnacle of everything I had ever desired, but had no idea at the time that someone else would come along. The loss of the Raven still cuts my heart. Oy, imagery on the television. Again I feel two flaring. Anyway, she represented both sides of the coin... Beauty inside and out. That is rare. This morning I am thinking of her and all of the others into whom I melted as much as possible at the time. Ashley, Juliette and her endless eyes, damn it all anyway. The other one I cannot speak of here, but believe me when I say an entire year of words would not be enough. She is all of it as well, however the situation is radically different. I just don't know what to do, yet again. All of those parts of life necessary for me to be happy are swirling all over the place right now. I may go back to the machine dream just to remain mindful of the idea of impossibility. I believe that entire problem arose out of a lack of control over many things and sometimes I think all of my desire for her stemmed from summing many different experiences both at home and while in Nevada. Yes, that place again. Overstating the influence of growing up in such a culture would be an exercise in futility. I cannot say enough. No sooner do I think I have thoroughly gone over all those years and how they affected every facet of my life when I remember and realize more. Much more. Decades, really. Damn it, but this morning is tough. I feel so much, yet it will go nowhere for the thousandth time, much like this entry. I keep saying the same things in different ways and none of it is enough.

Wallowing over the past being so far gone does not help me but I can't avoid it. I keep thinking of those times and the joy I felt, whereas now I have to strain and reach for the smallest enjoyment. It is tiring, really. I have never been able to come to terms or let anything go because I worry over it changing me. That may be a misstatement, although I will never know for sure. I have to stop this now. The day is before me and I already know coming out the other side will be unsatisfying, like always. There is always the alcohol. I wish that was funny.


This is bad. I cannot ever get any of it back. Voided like an old check, yet I seem to be clinging enough that nothing can be filed away anymore."