Shilo and Arina (IV)

"Stuck at 11:02am. Stop.

Unstuck.

I made something of myself, more or less. All day long while taking care of some projects, those eyes followed along. All the eyes. Well, the most important pairs. I don't even know how many different eyes make up those of Arina, but at least three are involved.

The two antennas are off the patio cover and disassembled. I borrowed a ladder from the neighbor and proceeded to install the chimney mast straps for relocating the two antennas and adding a third. I also broke out the enormous Solarcon and put it together to see how difficult it will be to adapt to this house. I still don't know if it's going to work anywhere. Hopefully once the whip is above the roof I won't need the big one. Adding a ground plane will probably make a world of difference for transmission and still be thin enough to avoid being unsightly to passers by.

Another morning with coffee and one of my families up there on the big television. I had a dream this morning in which I was trying to get her stuff ready for work but there were others here. Right behind me in the dining room was a woman from my past (not a relationship) sitting at the table and distracting my effort, while the other woman was at the opposite end and seemingly uninterested in what I was trying to do. Someone else was here, too. A male, possibly the other woman's partner but I can't be certain. I did not see him. Something happened and I cut my hand, after which instead of bleeding it looked like some implant that popped up and glowed like it had a red light inside. Probably too much science fiction in my head. Anyway, there were sexual innuendos with regard to my cut (strange) and I kept feeling as if I could not get her stuff ready on time. I didn't understand. Still don't. Whatever. I watch a lot of television and spend as much time alone as possible, so I am guessing those facts are affecting me in more ways than last year.

And I will not be alone at home today. Whatever. I can work with it. Always plenty to do and after yesterday's work outside and on the roof, I am somewhat inspired. The antenna mast should arrive tomorrow so I can begin to mount all three antennas and route the wiring. I decided to use the whip and forget about the big Solarcon for the time being. With a convenient method for accessing the roof, I can make adjustments as necessary and often. This is good. Other than that project, I have the usual crap to deal with inside the house. Arina remains right behind my eyes, always. Cat eyes. Tired of reading those words? Go elsewhere. Thought I forgot about her? Forget it.

I had a problem yesterday trying to keep Jamie away from Arina. After seeing the wedding scene -- and keep in mind that her hair was completely up and she had a horrid looking dress on -- I fell down realizing she will always be up there whenever I want but I must maintain a separation between the two. Arina is difficulty, heartbreak and disappointment, whereas Jamie represents vast beauty and wonder. I don't want her to be a part of the bigger picture. Well, just as I realized I need to keep her away from everything else, the scene after the feast ran its course (along with another a few episodes later, around the same dining table) and I looked as if I had never seen her before. The combination of her eyes and hair, maybe. I don't know. What is a certainty is that I drop a little further each time. So, should I avoid her and watch something else? I can't answer that question because I no longer believe the programs playing out on the televisions are up to me. All I have to do is figure a way to keep her separate from the troubling thoughts rolled up in Arina. A tall order, no shit. I went around the world with the eyes from the race, but consider this: They are a distant second to the other pair. Believe it. Something happened last year or early this year. I don't know what, though. I am broken inside to the point of reaching outside reality in order to maintain grip on something. A dream world. Maybe I am trying to avoid the reality that Arina -- the figure made up of everything I've ever done badly -- has the ability to destroy me and the eyes bring solace and help me to forget. Eh...

I know what she is now. Jamie. Her character. I finally know why I've been so gushy. And I can't say it. Today had better be pretty damned rewarding. And she will be up there in a little while during the scene of a lifetime. Crazy person.

Yes, I know. Cindy all up and down the page again. Just ignore her.

The girl at the race and my subsequent gushing all over these entries is serving to force more difficulty into the main subject. I am very weak and constantly overreaching toward whatever insane possibilities enter me due to the beauty, and then seeing it up close really hits hard. I am forever trying to figure out why such events take place and affect me deeply. I don't know anything about her and never will, yet the dreamy state of my brain as a result of that gaze has conjured all manner of fantasies, none of which involve her form. They really don't, believe it or not. This is the fourth entry bearing the name of Arina and still more is there, yet I can't reconcile everything. The model's eyes caused a bigger problem than any of the forms brought to this site in more than a year, the worst of which was displaying so much that I thought I might drown in that fucking pool. Well, now she has been minimized despite appearing from deep in my psyche and then right before my eyes due to the other eyes. Something was there... I know it. This sounds nuts, of course, but I cannot help the feeling. Whether or not I manufactured the entire gush out of nowhere, I cannot move past it. That is an ideal example of my weakness. Sitting here now? I feel like half a person. I mentioned the upside of that incident as the other issues being pushed away as a result of her looking at me, so perhaps I should try to focus on the fact that I was actually able to shelve aspects of my broken personality after writing for a year of all the damage they caused. It is a good thing. I just hope the woman with the cat eyes does not inflame me to the point of losing track of everything, kind of like what happens during those key scenes on the show and the beauty of all time up there in ideal clarity.

Jamie is such a huge problem that right now I have the fourth show on due to knowing she will be in the most beautiful glory very soon and I will not react well. This is bad. I thought I had grown out of childhood, but more and more I am regressing back to a time when magical things took place in my head and heart as the result of a single glance. I am not well.

There is another upside to Arina, and that has been brought to light by way of the stories from the late glow. The radio guys. The idea to break out my old stuff and revisit that hobby pushed me into all sorts of work yesterday, and everything went well. I actually forgot about the cat eyes for a while. The stories warm me somewhat because of how happy I was at the time. The radio period grew out of my work at the sound shop not far from home. That is where I met the CD changer girl and was also my first glimpse of the industry through the eyes of all those satellites and the unique programming available to us in the store. I was thinking about that job while tooling around yesterday because the sound shop was where I learned everything I know about radio equipment. I was able to work on my own truck when business was slow (most of the time, honestly) and then enjoy the benefits later. My antenna work yesterday brought back warm feelings of the period in question and helped me keep my head up and out of the typical midday din. Anything which has the power to push away Arina and her governing ways over my thinking is wonderful. I may carry on with the work today, as well. For whatever reason, I became inspired to grab hold of my past knowledge and flex it some. The radios are well outside the present sphere of communication influence, meaning a person can be a complete 'outlaw' (like we all were back then) and very few individuals will understand what is happening. Funny, really. The bottom line is if I can stay busy during this period when trying to complete the puzzle that is Arina, hopefully the result will be fruitful and possibly more answers to the toughest questions in my head.

Pause for the cause.

After twelve now and my routine is finished, plus I fabricated a mount for the rain and humidity sensor which is a part of the weather station I installed years ago. Because of the mast height, I can place it atop everything to avoid any interference. Pizza is incoming so I can curl up and be comfortable for a little while. Later I may get back into the preparations for the antenna mast, or possibly just take it easy and sit with this. I'll probably be pretty lazy after lunch, though. Some laundry, maybe.

The scene was on a little while ago. I actually began to take detailed notes on different sections of the show which make my heart swell, and this is not a positive development. Reminding myself of key parts and the manner in which the portrayals go from mere acting to the most emotional artwork is one thing, but keeping track of her appearance throughout more than eighty-six hours of television is entirely something else. Yes, the work is amazing, but... Please. Was I destined for something like this? Or the enormous mountain I built from a look less than two weeks ago? Not good. I stopped everything in process to focus upon the screen and fell down for the thousandth time over her face. Can't help it anymore. I have to see her there, frozen for all time, and looking like the meaning of life. This is very bad. Some months ago I gushed feelings, but now I am recording each scene as if they are all required for me to draw breath, or if I miss some details I will not react well. I have to know everything, which in itself is a matter of control. Again... Not good. I am so fucking goo ga at this point that the basement is coming ever closer. No photos, however, just video. Way the hell out of balance. Worse than a year ago. So bad.

Certain parts of the show are governing my movements throughout a given day. Governed by her appearance equals a governess. Nice, right? Down, down, down we go.

I still haven't folded the clothes from the dryer. Maybe in a little bit. I keep thinking of where this Arina line of thinking is going to take me. A place of understanding? Myself? I've tried to keep everything which makes up the Arina figure organized as best I can, but still it is all over the place. The glow and a short period thereafter make up the bulk of what is going on inside her, too. I've been going back and forth all day, hence the clothes just sitting there.

Another morning. This is day thirty since beginning the writing concerning this newest name. Day ten since the eyes. The other eyes. Cat-type. And yesterday were the cardinal eyes. All that shit adds up to something really out of whack. I mean worse than I had thought last spring when I found the images. I don't know what to do here now. The trailing end of the previous day was very slow, as if some force had been dragging the second hand through mud.

Today will be like many Wednesdays in that I'll have the bulk of the day to myself. Of all that I used to look forward, being alone at home has trumped nearly everything. I can't believe it. On the other side? Oh, some parts of life which have been crammed far back or drifted out of our atmosphere. Maybe? No return, ever. I'll have to think about this. In the meantime, the usual business and then maybe a visit to the big hardware store down the peninsula. That place brings back memories of a similar store during the glow. Yep, the very store right across the parking lot from that Radio Shack I mentioned in the previous entry. Both places were in the same shopping center and frequented by me and the others. Each time I walk into the big store these days, part of me travels back there for a picosecond before being slammed back to reality. The other positive to visiting is a feeling which developed last time... I drove over there with the intention of having my favorite tacos for lunch. Well, I parked myself on the fringe and enjoyed the meal, afterward cruising down the boulevard to the hardware. Exactly like the early nineties, except in a different car and everything is more expensive. Heh. From one to the other. I may need to make the hardware trip a regular thing when the mid-week schedule is like today. There are always things I can use. And then coming home will bring the rewarding feeling, as always.

I recall building my first 'bow tie' to place on the tailgate of my pickup truck. I met a fellow radio-head at the hardware in question, where he coached me on the materials and fabrication. It was a simple affair, so within half an hour I was on my way across the parking lot to grab a second whip antenna from none other than the FCC-head at the Shack. He asked his usual questions and I proceeded to snow him with the idea that I was going to be driving up and down the state and needed something directional to deal with straight line cruising just like the truckers. Heh. Whatever. Nimrod, that one. Anyway, the antenna served me well and we ended up meeting at the store several more times because of his ability to design interesting and effective equipment and my experience doing the fabrication. We would fire everything up right there in my driveway to test, with one of my cohorts -- 'Undertaker' -- close by for feedback. That was a lot of fun. She was helpful and almost never left the house. The bow tie allowed me to part the truck between Undertaker and downtown, meaning the straight-line power was at its highest. Hmm... Maybe I'll mount a bow tie on the roof with a rotor to direct the output.

Driving down there today will bring all of that back again, honestly. I am both looking forward and lamenting the memories. That summer... Well, I've gone over it already. I just can't help it because so much took place in the months leading up to our trip across the country that my head continues to recall little parts each day when I sit here and type. I just made up my mind. Definitely going. I'll have to make a list. No lunch this time, however.

Into the early afternoon and a scrape. There is presently no way out of this one.

My routine is finished and I put the kibosh to the hardware or any other destination due to the scrape. I have to remain here for the duration and perhaps go out another day. My antenna mast is scheduled to arrive sometime this afternoon which means I can do some prep work on how to mount everything. I also located what may be a decent small antenna for the radio. Down low it may not prove effective, but up thirty or more feet will extend the transmission range some. It's cheap, so if the result is marginal I can go in another direction and maybe use the short antenna on the car later. As for other chores, I really cannot find motivation right now. A difficult day with difficult thought processes. This is never good, although as the hours pass I'm sure I'll find something to do. Sometimes I think stretching the routine out a while could be a good idea. This kind of scrape diminishes my ability to focus. Very little about Arina or the past thus far in this entry. Not good. Her name is in the title.

The radio times during the end of the glow have been on my mind quite a bit this week. I mentioned the parallel, and the more I think about it the closer the match becomes. No work and each day under my control. I knew that part of my life was temporary, though. The current period? Still up in the air, yet the more I think about it, the more I feel my place is right here for as long as I am around. Back then, the possibilities and support were abundant, but now? Not so much. I often feel completely alone aside from this keyboard. Scrape. Ruling my mind today. I keep going back twenty-eight years for good reason. The joy was then, not now.

Another morning. Yesterday went pretty well as my antenna mast was delivered. I assembled some of the components and have the unit partially ready to go up. I might do more work today. The new antenna will not be here until Saturday. The cabling will be last but that's pretty straightforward. My Solarcon is going to need to wait a while.

The scrape. Unbelievable. After all this time, too. Back during the glow, I did reach a bit toward difficult subjects, although the intrigue during that time partially outweighed whatever was not being discussed. Still, the conversations took place and helped. Now? Scrape. The glow cannot return, nor can any of those other dreams which remain right behind my eyes. I wonder if the cat eyes would have understood. Hmm.

Yesterday morning was tough. I was holding everything up again before heading into my own world for hours. The feeling was fairly uncomfortable, too. Waiting for my world to calm and become quiet is not easy sometimes because other people are involved and I have no control over them. Hence my railing on about being alone as often as possible. There was Joseph again, rest his soul. Anyway, today I need to think about Arina rather than trying to push her back and away in order to do more enjoyable tasks. The alone time means I can have whatever I need in the background, and today I may switch to music instead of television. It can be therapeutic at times. I should have this place to myself within the hour, and sometimes I actually prefer her being on the later shift because everything I do gets pushed out a little, leaving me less free time in the afternoon. I have a plan today, too. Arina needs to be organized, so long as I can stay upright and out of the past. That other pair of eyes will be trying to shoehorn its way into me today. Already I can feel it. Her. I'd love it if she would remain at arm's length and give me time to reconcile everything. All of the crap with which I have to work today will be made easier thanks to the morning alone time coming earlier than yesterday. As I said, it was tough but I've learned little skills here and there to deal with other people and ensure they are comfortable and relatively happy at my hands. No one needs to know all that is churning right now.

She looked right through everything on the outside and arrived at my most cherished space. Her eyes did that, and if it never happened, I am much worse off than I had thought and a monkey's uncle at the same time. I would swear there was a mass of feeling, not just a gaze. Within mere seconds, she knew. I saw the pants and her height right away but had no idea there could be something magical at work. Only two other occasions have had me wondering about some cosmic shit going on or some other sort of voodoo which had been pushing me to see things that were not there. Two occasions, both still being mentioned here on a daily basis. This latest push and strike upside my head is continuing to force questions I have no wish to pose. I really need to figure out how that model fits with the rest of me. Yearning? Desire? Mere glances? Searching, like so much of last year? She is a part of the bigger picture now, a good portion of Arina the everything-woman.

Oh, I'm sorry. Am I repeating myself? Yes, I am, and for good reason. I am trying to figure things out and sometimes I will go over the same facts more than once. If you're dealing with something difficult, do you ever repeat your thoughts? Yeah... Shut the fuck up.

I certainly hope the current scrape is unrelated. That could be bad. I made the same type of connection last year and it turned out to be true, soon resulting in my bringing a hammer down on my own head. That was a very harsh and telling realization, one which continues to this very second. I am weak, honestly, but also a product of circumstances. Ups and downs, just like anyone. I tend to overanalyze, that's all. But the point is if the same connection is made regarding Arina and all which has become tied up inside her, well... This scrape is going to become perpetual. I don't need that kind of crap right now. There was a test yesterday due to the scrape and I still don't know if I passed or not. Maybe there is no pass/fail, but only a lesson. I honestly do not know anymore. What I do know is the combination of feeling this detachment and worrying over so much at the same time is bad for others near me. If the scrape is linked to those cat eyes and the unbelievable woman attached to them, there will be no repairing me. None.

Late yesterday afternoon I was thinking about the forest while working with my antenna setup. I believe some time ago I mentioned that both feet were nearly inside. I honestly can't recall at this moment and am too lazy to search, but I can say that after the last month or more it is right there staring at me. I don't want to sit here pissed off all the time. That is exhausting. Anyway, it's close. The only positive is Arina has nothing to do with that dark place. Or does she? Is the forest a part of her? Maybe a question? Ugh. The forest could also be the answer to all those questions of where I 'could' or 'should' be, meaning the decisions and inactions of the past are somewhere inside Arina and I have to become completely encapsulated by the forest in order to figure her out. The only certainty at this point is the fact that there have been far too many questions and an overwhelming lack of answers. She is not helping.

Quiet time for the bulk of this day. Just after nine.

I have a pretty good idea of how to deal with the current scrape. Doing so will require me to shelve Arina for a while (if I can get all that out of my head for longer than a minute), although if I succeed it means the cat eyes go with her. I have to figure something out here, for crying out loud. The girl at the race hit me because I am weak, desperate, and reaching all the time. No doubt there. Such a connection -- real or not -- is always going to throw me for a loop due to said reaching. She is not the cause of the scrape, but she could fix it. Yep, she could fix it, however that cannot happen because she is a face out there somewhere and never to be known by me again. I am reminded of reaching toward Eleanor and the way she attached her adorable self to me for the duration. The cat eyes brought on similar feelings, meaning I am about as weak as can be right now. The searching last year led to this, along with my incessant babbling about something being 'out there'. Well, if you ever need a clear definition of unrealistic, look no further. I am all of it, all the time. There is a huge difference between hopeful and desperate. I reached at the race, but really do believe something was there... She did something, I don't know. I could see it. This is ridiculous.

Scrape. Arina. What do I do now? Go into what I plan to do today? The antenna mast, routine, whatever else may keep my head on straight for more than five minutes at a time, or perhaps just sitting here on my sorry ass writing the same shit over and over. Options. Choices? I did not choose to turn out this way, yet I know much of it is my own doing. Whatever. I can't even gush about the face on the television because she was only seventeen at the time this was shot. Not good. Is that a decision? Choice? Do I have a point there? Pause.

And now the routine is finished. During the beginning of my work this morning, I calculated and then discovered a method for dealing with the television situation. A little background...

So, we have cable television and Internet. It's been operating since shortly after I moved here nine years ago. It's expensive, of course, yet always felt worthwhile due to the speed, programming and reliability. Until recent months there had been no issue aside from watching the bill grow year after year. Everything increases in cost over time, there is no getting around it. But, with the onset of tons of streaming services we have been discussing the idea of dropping the cable box in favor of a few streaming accounts to cover the programs we regularly watch. The networks are smart. Just since the beginning of this year, many programs have popped up which are only available with a streaming subscription, at least two of which we would like to see. With the cable bill so high, adding anything is not a good idea. Well, in the last few weeks I realized I have been watching the same six or seven programs religiously, meaning most of the dial is unused. The idea to drop the television and keep only the Internet connection seemed wise. There was only one issue, and that is the fact that I am on a promotional plan to end early next year. That put the kibosh to my idea, but only for a while.

If this technology discussion is boring, look at Cindy for a while. She is here for the duration as a symbol of what is possible. Live with it.

I. Will. Never. Change.

I recently made an appointment to visit the cable company's office to shut off the television subscription and eat the cancellation fee only to dump it a day later. The reason was audio. The system was set up like this: The cable box output is sent to a splitter (not one of those cheap things from the dime store, either) and then to the three televisions; main, kitchen and garage. The main television displays the image while the audio is sent through my surround receiver. The unit in the kitchen uses its own speakers (just fine in there) and the garage television is video only. The audio for that area is connected to my garage system, as it has since last spring. The problem which arose is the fact that streaming services would be handled by the main television, meaning the audio would have to return to the receiver via ARC (audio return channel) and then sent to the speakers. That is just the living room. I would not be able to send the video signal to the splitter, meaning my other two televisions would be dark. I wracked my brain for a little while yesterday and again this morning for a solution and did not find one. The answer was presented to me via a search resulting in an article dedicated to ARC. The writer suggested a stand-alone unit to handle all of the streaming services and then running audio and video wherever may be necessary. That article led to another search for splitting the streaming unit's signal. I have yet to find any issue with using such a device. And then the routine. Once finished, I sought one of the most popular streaming devices and learned it is not only cheap, but can indeed be split. The unit has been ordered, meaning I can now proceed with an appointment to shut off the hundreds of channels we ignore and their high cost.

As far as I can calculate, the end result will be roughly a hundred dollars less per month and zero commercials. This is ideal. I believe the pandemic and resulting mass of time at home prompted this, yet lowering costs is never a bad idea. I suppose the main thing was my becoming irritated by the ratio of commercials to actual programs having increased over the years coupled with being fucking annoyed by the sounds of voices I cannot control. Yep, THAT again. I can't help it. I am overjoyed at discovering that there are ways of streaming everything we currently watch (and then some) without interruption to my cozy space. Wonderful. Now if I could just solve the Blu-Ray sound issue, everything would be peachy (don't ask). Or the scrape. Ugh.

Approaching noon. Half in the fucking bag. Doesn't matter in the least these days. And I just realized that my never-ending double standard may in fact be tripled. Arina told me. One more? I seem to be covering the entire series in roughly nine days. That is both amazing and pathetic. Eighty-six hours of television produced over a period of ten years and I can roll through it in nine days? And this is the fifth iteration? Straitjacket. Don't even get me started on 4500+ lines of code written in one month.

I am a crazy person. There is nothing else. Nothing. Scrape(s). And pause for the cause.

Later now. I went back to the roof and mounted the antenna mast. I also attached the RF antenna that I built some years ago. It will receive the time standard radio signal from Colorado. Once powered, I can read and decode the clock pulses with my scope and perform further experiments. That idea is along the lines of the radio system in that it brings me to the past, namely after the glow and during that shining period of working for my parents at their calibration lab. I've gone into that year before so I'll refrain now. Suffice to say, three out of five devices are up there now. Two more soon. The show followed along with my work.

I can't help but think of how different pairs of eyes have affected me. That does not happen often at all, mostly due to the idea that most of the time any eyes on me are frightening or otherwise cause discomfort. At this point I don't know what Arina's eyes look like anymore. They were one pair, and then another, eventually becoming the wondrous and stirring cat eyes attached to that girl. Could they be a combination? What happens if they end up scary? Not a clue. I wish I could see her again. Never will I know. Ugh... Time to get away from this again. Stop.

Another morning. Friday now, and the show is on again. I've rolled all the way through the first season fairly quickly. Into two now, and I believe I recently mentioned the frightening woman in this episode. Beautiful, yet way too strong and forthright for someone like myself. I'll have to look back to when I mentioned her because I need to see the interval and context. And there it was, in 'Arina II'. I was comparing Annalisa to the model at the race and saw a massive difference. Part of it is her character on the show is powerful beyond belief, with an army and arsenal right behind those beautiful clothes and shoes. Dark eyes, hair, all of it. Tall, too. Strong and confident. She is actually quite amazing to see, and the actor absolutely kills each scene. I think of her often due to so much time spent in search of comfort, mostly Nevada. I mentioned she is a diametric opposite of the one at the race, along with something similar inside when I consider the personality of Eleanor, honestly. The model at the race was different, obviously and for several reasons (one of which I cannot even mention), yet still the feeling is the same. Annalisa carries enough beauty for a room full of women but I would run in the other direction. Go ahead and laugh. I am being honest here. The underlying fact is exactly the same reason I seemed to reach for the pair of eyes at the race when they went through me... Weakness. I can't help it. After five decades, this is what I am. The intimidating beauty of the woman on the screen drives the same bus full of worry right through me as the one I have been trying to alleviate by finding the right pair of eyes. This is very bad. The search never ended though I announced I'd had enough of it. I still knew deep inside that I could not stop, and then the moment two weeks ago which shifted me from wondering to certainty. Now? I am screwed. She is gone.

Did I find what I was looking for? I can never know because the moment came and went quicker than you can slap a tick. Gone. I have the image and nothing more. Well, I do have one other thingy... Very likely the rest of my life trying to figure it out. But I can't see anymore.

I keep thinking I need to go outside and make sure my antenna mast didn't fall down. Heh. My work is not so shoddy.

The morning business is out of the way, leaving me time to consider all this shit. I have all day. Yesterday had me finishing a large portion of the antenna work so today I can get the garage back to normal and take care of the usual stuff. Annalisa brought the race girl to mind twice now, meaning I need to think about her and what that type of woman represents. The difference is striking, really. Fear versus comfort, intimidation grating against solace. Ellie and Natalie took me in hand, literally, and each provided a place unequaled in modern times. I still don't know what the motivation may have been aside from something many people share, which is a basic concern for the well-being of everyone they encounter. The same may have been what I saw in that girl's eyes for a moment. I don't know for sure.

Arina again... Because everything is rolled up inside her. If I move past the eyes, what remains is s stolid representation of many past parts of my life which I can either ignore or embrace to learn. She holds everything I am now. I wish I could hold her. I see different details which were important enough to me at the time for an easy route away from what I should have been doing in order to improve my situation. Like sitting there at the table in the Midwest with my drawing materials and the show on the television. There was a number of other avenues available to me every single day, yet the pull of that situation and being there all alone for hours each week was too much for me to turn down. What is that? Laziness? Or something deeper, like a need to avoid people? I already went into the disdain I felt not for society as a whole, something which developed while still in California. I recall it was directly in the middle of the glow, too. That feeling carried on for a couple of years and then followed across the country. One thought is I did indeed fall in love with the peace and quiet of that house -- nearly in the middle of nowhere -- due to having been so mired in the much larger population here and all of the problems inherent in living in a huge metropolitan area. After we arrived in the Midwest, the immediate separation was apparent and we seemed to be on the fringe of everything.

Still in a scrape. It will not fade.

Right now I am in total control of everything around me. No one here, no questions or voices expressing the opposite of what I may need, and my familiar devices all around. The door is locked in more ways than one. Michigan was similar, although further out due to our location in the farmland. And I am exactly the same person as the one sitting at that table for two years.

Two decisions pushed that situation into where it was and what it became. One, I remained inside the house and not working at a job because I enrolled in night school, and two, months after graduating I took part time work in town and eventually destroyed my relationship out of weakness and a search for comfort. Yep, comfort again. Had I gone in other directions during that last summer, there is the possibility that I may still be in that place. Of course I cannot know for sure, but the chances are many. And that drives something else which is literally written all over me...

The guilt and dislike for myself which came on pretty fucking strong after leaving the Midwest overtook my psyche and began to push me in a very different direction than any other period in this life: Inward. This fact may have been the catalyst for my taking a figure (point of reference) like Jaime and changing her by way of adding my personality. And then I changed her name. Arina is nothing more than a giant conglomeration of ideas on how I turned out this way. Simple in some ways and very complex in others. One thing? I still need that same feeling as I had at the table with my drawings.

I am not explaining anything very well.

Many years later the entire situation played out again. The only differences were the date and those around me. Again with the shit feelings toward myself and the little cocoon of comfort every day. Parallels. Instead of drawings on paper I was painting murals on the walls of my apartment. That went away some time later and now I am typing. Everything is exactly the same. I am exactly the same... Needs, hiding, avoiding. Maybe I need to cease the idea of Arina and just work on things without some ethereal figure representing everything I'm trying to learn or say. This is fucking stupid all of a sudden. One entertaining fact is that often I am following the exact same show which was on the television twenty-eight years ago while drawing in the dining room. Heh, I guess.

I'm going to get away from this for a while and do something else. Maybe my daily routine. Arina has not been effectively conveyed, nor have I been able to explain where the idea of her came from in the first place. I'll have to think about this, but the titles remain because she is still in my head causing problems and looking stunning. The scrape continues, as well. Why does she have to be beautiful? Well, look at each entry since early fifteen (barring a few, of course) and stare at the images. Female physical attractiveness is something which has ruled my steps in life for a very long time. If I'm going to create a symbol that represents me and everything happening inside, it has to be a woman. A gorgeous woman. I am ruled like a pencil along God's straightedge. Stop.

10:38am on August 6th of 2021. My sister's birthday. I love her more than words can say. I just told her so, as well as my cousin in Florida. I gushed with little hearts. Whatever family I have left is still important to me, believe it or not. Lately I have been considering the idea of packing my stuff and driving across the country for a hug, and I am just the person to do it. No one can stop me. Well, the weather can keep me away. If I decide to dash all those miles in my cozy car, it will be during fall at the earliest. Heh. Comfort.

The routine is finished. The floor is clean, kitchen polished, and my directionless existence continues. I will admit the cat eyes have faded quite a bit in the last two weeks, yet the underlying reason for my initial gushing over her remains. The short period in which I was in her eyes and she was in mine stands as indicative of more weakness than I care to admit. The holy span. Believe it. Now that my typical chores are out of the way, the options are swirling in my head. What to do? The scrape is gone. Maybe I'll change the title. Also? Maybe I will get the fuck out of here for a while today. The walls are closer.

10:54am. Half drunk. Does anything matter? Turning into a ball of mush. I need to take note of a scene that emotionally moves me so much... Done.

I'll probably go out to the garage soon and move some things around, straightening the space. Thinking of driving all the way to Florida is enticing and I have to squash it right now due to resources. Work around the house will help push it back for the time being. Anytime a road trip comes to mind I have trouble because I've been here so long. Home for nearly sixteen months straight means getting out in any manner I can enjoy is a pretty strong pull. I've always loved the road thanks almost entirely to my dad. He drove us all over the place, the longest trip being a three-week odyssey all the way to Florida and back. At ten years old it was all fun because of a lack of responsibilities. Now any trip requires a lot of thinking and plans. Still, and no matter the amount of logistical work involved, I love going out to explore. The last time was more than three years ago and my head is ripe for another adventure.

Paulie's comare has become a part of Arina, whatever the fuck that name means now. Her demeanor and feelings toward the character have summed in a manner consistent with dreams I've experienced. Unbelievable. Everything is so fucking difficult and elusive, and all too often these days. I can't fucking stand it. She comes and goes in the space of a few minutes during one episode and then no more of her, ever. But her mannerisms and the way her voice conveys so much of what happens in my brain is both wondrous and hurtful. Remember way back when I first began to spout 'never me'? Well, that resulted from an older film but is directly related to the comare. Eh... It's all a pile of shit anyway. Unfair, perhaps.

Fair? Really? What does that even mean anymore? Eh... Fuck it all.

I don't know if I can do much from this point forward today. The reasons are many, although most of the time I can push them aside and work on whatever seems most pressing. Today is different. The figurative walls are closing in on my position and the only available avenue is to wait. I don't deal well with waiting, though. Too many days have found me sitting idle and sans direction. I don't need any more of that shit. Reasons on high and reasons in the background, the bottom line remains constant... I JUST DON'T GIVE A FUCK. All the television has been shoving the industry down my throat lately. Not good. My mind almost continually goes back to the latter glow and those dishes which connected me to the dreamy world of filmmaking and tons of inside information about the production of films at the time. The industry and those dreamy days of watching the 'E' channel (when its primary focus was on film and television production) and seeing everything in my dreams playing out before my eyes. The birds gave us access to more than I can recall, the bulk of which was geared toward everything going on behind the front end, meaning the titles of films and programs. The public could watch trailers and advertisements, whereas my attention had been drawn toward what brought them to the big or small screen. Even the CD changer girl fell away when considering the excitement and shine of the entertainment industry. Yep, she was amazing, yet nothing when compared to the world of film. Damn. When beauty is shoved aside for something else? That is heavy.

Another morning with coffee and my friends up there. Hundreds of these, one after another. Today will be a little different than most. I have to go to the airport this afternoon, just like last time. That was interesting. I think of the airport as a big adventure because it's so large and complex, meaning there are many ways to do the same things. I usually find my spot on the map, park early to go and get coffee or something else to drink, and then pop outside for a cigarette once I get bearings. It takes me out of the comfort zone, but in a way I can deal with. I've always loved the airport whether or not I am the one flying. Plus, the added boost of arriving home again will make the while thing worthwhile.

I fired up the radio again yesterday with my magnet-mount antenna sitting atop the roof of the car. There is rarely anything going on these days other than a couple of bucket mouths across the bay with their endless power. No one hears me for the time being, likely because there are so few working with those types of radios in this late period. Years ago they were all over the place. Now, I believe, mostly out there on the interstates rather than in town. My standing wave meter should arrive today so I can better match the antenna and then perhaps getting a bit further out is more likely. I'll also be setting up the roof antenna maybe two days from now. The huge Solarcon must await better times if they ever appear.

Something from half a year ago...

'I was supposed to head over to a friend's to replace his water heater today but I no longer give a shit. Their old unit is working fine, just dated and gurgling. This morning I find that I can't care about it right now. I have to run around like last weekend and cherish everything before it is altered beyond recognition. Thinking of the television and everything it stirs within me is tough now, from the visions of women like Grace and Jamie-Lynn, to the fantasy of those adventures in either outer space or into the industry of my dreams, and on to all of the avenues I passed in order to be comfortable. Here I sit, a product of my own indecision. The memories are worse now than they were last summer when I first began to see everything related to the past more clearly, and the ability to relate each period to feelings I have been experiencing since being sheltered at home. I am quite certain all of the free time lent to so much thinking, too. There was just no way around it. One-hundred-eighty fucking degrees from where I was as well as where I could have been. This is all just so bad now. Hours from now I will walk into what is left of the shining past and feel some of it again. After that? Waiting until the last remnants are wiped away. Sad.'

The guy with the water heater basically gave up on me because I canceled and probably pissed him off. Well, that should be a lesson these days: Don't count on me for anything beyond a fucking ham sandwich because I literally have my hands full. Leave me alone. His old unit was still working anyway. It was not an emergency. Fuck him and his water heater.

The point of including that older paragraph here is the sum-up of my feelings. 'A product', specifically. That has been rolled into whatever the hell Arina has become, I guess. I already said she represents everything I've done, like forks in roads and decisions which have been made solely for the purpose of gaining or maintaining comfort, both inner and outer. I am sitting here at this moment due to making two decisions some years ago. No different. Arina came about -- I believe -- because of the fictional Jaime I created combined with the need for some way of grouping everything together for reference. But I don't think this is working. There is no denying the fact that I leveraged and steered many people and situations in order to be where I need for peace of mind, yet still I do not see how I can clearly define her without becoming confused myself. Maybe Arina wasn't the best idea right now.

'...a product of my own indecision.'

Putting aside the two names in that paragraph, the main point was the semi-dream world I have often created in order to separate myself from everything difficult, or at least push it away for a while. Speaking of the industry or fantasies meant I finally realized that real life had become unfulfilling and I needed something to focus upon in order to operate like a regular human being while keeping the true views and feelings locked away. I am still doing it. Every day alone I need not worry over how I go about things or the manner in which I have the house and garage configured to remain inside my little world. A little while back I spoke of the drive back from that event south of here (two weeks ago, I believe). I had been talking to myself just like I speaking to the cats while home. I was doing it again yesterday trying to work on a sound issue. I'll get into that in a bit. The point is, I have been living through the days almost exactly the same way since sitting at that dining table in Michigan with my drawings. There is absolutely no difference. Media has changed, the scenery out the windows, and the calendar, yet I am still the same person with the same intentions of being in my own world. This paragraph has accomplished nothing.

Maybe the indecision was actually decision born of my subconscious desire to be where I needed. Maybe? Are the comforts of home and devices around me that important? This would seem to be true. Oh my fucking God, Nicole is so damned gorgeous... I want to tell her everything is ok. Those eyes always exude so much emotion. Ugh... Anyway...

I've pushed so many buttons to remain where I am most comfortable that I cannot even begin to recall a fraction of them now. Arina? I may just dump that whole idea in the trash because I may not need some kind of vessel to carry all my shit. Summing up some of this is pretty straightforward and easy to get across, whereas using her to identify with a mass of bad decisions and time I can never get back is much more difficult to explore. The glow, for example. I'm certain anyone has memories of times and places they miss and feel may have been the best ever, yet I seem to be crippled by knowing that the possibilities and promise are fucking gone. Do others feel the same? I'll never know because I cannot ask, plus sometimes when conversation heads in such directions people tend to avoid going too deep out of self-protection. They do not wish to dwell because nothing can be done, nor can the periods return. Well, I have been dwelling for a very long time. I cannot recall the first mention without a complex search. Stand by...

The last day of last year was most likely the first occasion of me referring to those four years as 'the glow'.

Maybe I should have called Arina by the name 'Glow' instead, and I say that because there have been hundreds of instances of that word since the outset of this year. It is the driving force behind much of what I feel due to the present being so different in comparison. The memories cause problems in my head and then everything comes here. Well, that was likely the beginning of the sort of comfort which matched me to a tee, or at least the realization of its value. I am not certain. I have been living the title of another entry as I have watched my life go by on television. The comfort and wonder became two things I could not live without, hence my attempting to draw conclusions and then combining them with the pervasive beauty which never leaves me. The name of her was just an idea born of my need to organize, and then I made her beautiful. No surprise there, but still... Maybe the time is nigh for me to just speak rather than create even more symbols and representations of things inside. Clarity? Eh... Not too much for crying out loud.

Switch for my sanity.

Yesterday my little streaming unit arrived and I integrated it into the entertainment system here in the living room. After fidgeting around, I realized the sound related to my distribution amplifier has disappeared again just like last year when I tried to run signals to the kitchen for the first time. Well, I went through a ton of troubleshooting yesterday and finally gave up shortly before evening time. The fact is I have no idea what may be dropping the audio to the second television, although I have no idea if there is audio to the main unit here in the living room because the sound is not routed to the television. From the sources, the audio goes to the receiver and out to speakers, meaning I have no need for audio to the built-in television speakers. I'll have to do more testing to narrow down the issue. Describing more here is only going to become more convoluted than it already has. Without sound in the kitchen, the video in there is useless. Pause.

Early afternoon, same day. My routine took three hours due to troubleshooting the entire entertainment system. I used the process of elimination to isolate where the audio is dropped, eventually learning that my huge receiver is not passing sound through itself via the HDMI. I changed the setting and found that either it will send the native audio straight through to any outputs or to the internal amplifier and speakers. That means I cannot send HDMI audio to the splitter. So, I connected the new streaming device directly to the splitter and the video is everywhere, however the kitchen television continually flickered and dropped the sound as the program was displayed. After going through even more isolation (including grounding issues in the power itself), I learned that the input connector is flaky. After switching to another input, the audio issue and flickering are gone. At that point I was able to clean the kitchen with my typical level of comfort. The next priority is the garage television. That is video only as the audio was routed from the cable box straight to the components out there. Well, that signal is gone now due to disconnecting the cable box and using only the Roku. The kitchen is more important, so once that was alleviated I tried to bend my brain around getting audio to the garage. Right now my best option is to use the headphone jack on the garage monitor and send it to the input on the receiver. I do not have the connector though, only cabling. I'll have to acquire the correct adapter and try again. For the time being, there is no sound out there. Not a big deal. As I said, the kitchen is priority two after the living room. At least the initial issue was isolated, meaning I can work with the rest in time. This type of project helps me to forget where I am in life.

And we are on to day 9443 since the difficulties began. That is accurate to within three days. Morning again. Gangsters up there. Coffee. Cool air. Three hours and thirty-seven minutes until I pick her up for a lunch date south of here. Garbage day.

The garage sound issue is solved. The headphone jack did indeed do the job and is temporarily connected to the receiver until I can pick up the proper cable and route it neatly. That was the last hurdle. Now I have the streaming programming in all areas and set up the way I had been hoping. The next step will be to toss the cable box and shut down the television subscription so I can evaluate the cost. By the time I secure two more channels on the Roku we should be over a hundred dollars less per month than the cable subscription. Not bad. And one of the biggest positives? No more commercials of any kind.

I was reading about Jamie's teenage years and the period between the pilot production and first season being picked up. Someone made the observation that she was young and many of the people should have refrained from commenting upon her appearance. The discussion would have been better centered upon her work instead. One person stated that during the third season was her best look after having recovered from the eating disorder and gaining some weight back. It's true she was pretty damned thin in the first season, but it passed. There was much discussion and still is quite often. Interesting that I am not the only person to think about the actors and where they were in life at the time of such landmark productions.

God damn, Oksana is fucking tall.

The airport went fine yesterday. We had a short visit and then I brought her home and returned here. My package from Amazon was waiting, too. I finally have the standing wave meter to work out radio and antenna issues. Pretty nice. Fucking hell did Siravo have a voice when he wanted it. Love. It. To. No. End. All the respect. Anyway, all the stuff I needed for the radio system is here and I have tomorrow to get everything in order. Yesterday was the airport and other things, today is lunch and then dealing with whatever comes back from the city this afternoon, leaving tomorrow as my first real quiet time alone since Friday. I'll tie up some loose ends and get my things in order beginning then. Tomorrow morning will be very nice after a weekend of being here and there. Having the televisions set up the way I need is a big plus, as well.

Arina again. I think she changed quite a bit in the space of less than a day. Questioning what I created seems natural because I threw so much stuff into her that eventually the idea became too confusing. Now I don't know what to do. I can take each subject separately. Or, maybe just keep going as I was before developing the woman out of thin air. In the beginning she was to be a fantasy, a fictional representation of what has been going on inside me as a result of the years... All that time dreaming which has taken its toll. She held everything I wished to have and some of what I wished to be, and no long after the original idea. Decisions? Those too, yet right now I do not see the value in such thinking. I mean, what would the end result be? Taking care in making decisions in the future so I don't make mistakes or hurt anyone? There are no more decisions anyway, so Arina cannot be a lesson, only a memorial. I've gone over those times which shaped me into this, aplenty. She doesn't need to have parts of my formative years in there. I can go back to the fantasy, yet that means the writing here is going to repeat over and over and over for all time. So, what to do with her? I never even fully defined what the woman represented and now I am taking her apart? The best idea could be to keep going, as well. I can try to describe how all those parts of my life can be rolled up and identified. Honestly, the subjects and ideas may be too much or too complex for me to get across here. Fuck, I don't know.

Maybe everything just bothers me too much because I allow it. Maybe I am asking or wanting too much.

I just realized that the newest chapter in that long fictional story was not published despite having been finished last September. I may have published and then pulled it, or refrained from placing here in the first place because it is pretty damned personal. I've said many times that the early years and their problems are difficult to consider now because I cannot speak to those who were involved. They are all gone. Part of that entry is directly related to the previous chapter and aligns some with my past in blue. I'll put it back up just to see if there is any flap. Pause. Back. There it is, listed in the archive and for whatever it may be worth. One word goes aslant and this entire endeavor will change.

Funny that I've been speaking of those parts of life and events which have shaped me into this -- whatever one can say about it (label me, go for it) -- and then considering the words of that single unpublished essay nearly in the same breath. All that shit I received over being selective or pulling the entire archive pressed me to either making everything disappear or giving those voices what they wished. I'll try to avoid bitching about it more, but I cannot help but thing of the irony. Words disappear because I worry over what people may be thinking, and then they return and I realize this is all or nothing. It's more powerful for me to be wide open than closed off, at least when it comes to others. Well, I linked the essay so it is now there once again. Good or bad, I don't care. Go read it.

Lots of images of Cindy. Do they matter anymore? Look at her waist. Not a waste. Wayest? I'm losing it. And I'm beginning to think that one aspect of Jamie's eyes appearing so big is the fact that her face is much thinner overall in the sixth season. Just saying.

The morning moves along and I keep traveling back in time. Not the show's doing, just memories resurfacing from those times I miss. I've been tooling around with the radio (the end of the glowing years), worrying over locating electronics supplies now that the big, reference stores are gone (after the Midwest and into the early zeros), and gushing about my need to separate myself from society and become a bit more self-sufficient (the beginning of the glow). All of the holidays have been avoided lately because the memories stab me like a giant knife from hell. I think of the different periods and continually compare them to the present, sometimes resulting in good feelings, but most of the time forcing me to feel sad and miss everything. The natural extension from that point is to realize that I took myself out of each shining situation knowing full well of the consequences and potential change. I suppose it took many years for me to see how much those times and places could have had a bearing on the present. Ten years ago I was worried that nothing grandiose would take place in the future, and then half that many years back I realized 'grandiose' did not need to happen, only a simple and fulfilling time. Like the glow. But honestly, can things feel the same as they did thirty years ago? No way. Too much has changed, both inside and around the world. Dreaming of feeling the same is unrealistic. That leaves me to try and embrace the current period. Heh. How? Free time? The routine? Those around me? So far, nothing is working. Either I am asking too much or some other force is at work here and keeping me tied to a fucking post. The memories will not go away and constantly have me making comparisons. Natural or otherwise, the actions are not good.

So... I rolled everything up into a beautiful woman in order to... What? Why? Arina is a lovely name, just like Karina, Kana and all those other exotic-sounding handles I've run across over the years. But I am still at a loss as to what may have been accomplished by making a woman out of all this shit. Maybe she was just a fleeting idea. I don't know anymore. One way of possibly organizing my brain? Or am I just desperate?

'Some sorta Goddamned trouble here, Jerome?'

'Die Erorian's visit had been successful; rewarding.
With nights of female screams of whimpers,
lustful dreams.
Night followed rampant night of
delicate soft gasps.
The ultimate attack on Heaven and its glories.
Seduce them as they slept, oblivious to
their midnight tryst.
The seed of doom was planted.
Phantom raped in their dreams.
The sad ones take their own lives.
Slay their men night after night.'

The morning moves along and I will soon get a few things done in support of the routine and garbage. In two hours I plan to go pick her up and head out for a nice lunch and maybe some shopping afterward. Stop.

Another morning. Monday and the garbage trucks are rolling outside. Love. It. This is the early shift, meaning I am in front of eight in the morning and left to my devices. I even have a segment of the routine finished already. I have to say after the last two days, I really needed this time to myself. I was at the airport and then out and about yesterday to have lunch and run errands, meaning my time here was minimized. Not uncomfortable, just lessened to the point of feeling it. Once home yesterday, my typical Sunday garbage business went into full swing and I took care of whatever required attention. There was a period dealing with my neighbor which arose out of necessity as his club had run into trouble, too. I helped as much as I could and then closed up shop for the night and cooked dinner. All the while I was thinking of today and the benefit of having this critical time to myself. I cannot ever overstate the importance.

Arina is already falling apart. She may have been the wrong way to go about assembling and collating my past adventures and pitfalls. Wrong way right out of the gate. And this morning's gate, too. Awry. Scrape. I never should have brought everything together. In the beginning I figured it might be a good idea, but now I see that there are simply too many facets and problems which I tried to cram inside and follow. Never should have done that. Arina. What a maroon.

Little switchy...

Non-entity, he said. I believe he was right... Many occasions and too many examples. While there were moments yesterday above the din and appearing brighter than past situations, the God's honest truth is that the non- part of the equation cannot be denied or ignored. It is disrespectful. Non-entity means a tiny bit away from disregard. I've about had it with concern over what is real and what is not. Another hammer? Perhaps. I really felt strongly about the last one but did not follow through as intended. I backed off. That is the reason all this is here. Non-entity. If it is internal? That is fine and I'll leave it alone. External? I will fucking destroy the source. Believe me when I say I have full control over 'caring' and 'concern' when it comes to other people. One hair on my head gets mussed and I'll shut it off. Stay away from the rails and be nice. No more 'non-'. If someone can explain why this has become necessary they will win the Christmas goose. One thing I will say before going back to the usual drivel: A single word in any disparaging manner will cause me to retract completely. No more of this, that, or any fucking thing. I've had it. Try me. I am completely ready to slam the last door on everyone.

And back to the other crap... Maybe.

I'm going to take down the RF antenna which pulls the clock signal from Colorado. Two reasons: One, it doesn't look very attractive up there and adds considerable weight, and two, the element does not need to be quite that far above ground. I can put it on the side of the garage where it's mostly unseen and still have decent gain on the signal. Moreover, the base antenna arrived the other day and will look much better up there. It is lighter and more streamlined, plus the appearance of the mast will improve with everything being more professional and not homemade. On the upside, there was considerable wind yesterday during the late afternoon and the mast remained fine. A little movement but nothing serious. I'll double check the mounts when I go up there to switch antennas. Overall I am pretty damned happy because relocating everything from the patio cover to the roof really improved both the reception and appearance. All good. The sun is already shining, meaning I may not go up there today.

Today is going to be slow. During Saturday afternoon I returned to the glow yet again due to my standing wave meter arriving. I began to recall working on other people's radio systems and vehicles while I was at the store in Fremont. It was a wondrous time, and one of only two jobs which brought a sense of excitement and a type of happiness absent from all others. Each morning I was very pleased to be heading to my place of work to see what would take place during the day or what I might learn. Between the radios and satellite dishes, my head was often awash with wonder over the world of RF. I fucking loved that little place, all crowded and hot during the days. Loved. It. Working with the meter the other day brought all that stuff back and injected it into my head with force. I even considered putting the radio in my car and heading over to one of the hills on the other side of the Bay to see if anything is still going on over there. The heyday may be over, but if I am still considering the radio hobby, others may be as well. Anyway, those few months while working at the shop are beginning to outshine many other periods of my life. With the late glow and all the technology in my head, I might do the bare minimum today in favor of considering what I can bring back from that beautiful time. I'm going to remove the precious glow from Arina before going further. She is all bad, whereas the time in question was joyous to no end.

Gangsters again. Third season. Coffee gone. Options open right now.

Not even ten in the morning.

I've done a lot of gushing here and there over whomever, and for a very long time. In the beginning -- going back to fifteen -- the form was mostly analysis and subsequent torment. Now? This year? It is nearly all obsession and a more feeling situation. I don't know why. Perhaps the past is taking over my thinking.

Pause.

The routine is finished and some dry cleaning is underway. Lunch in the oven.

I typically enjoy Monday mornings because everything is reset from the previous week. Garbage cans, the weekend business, even my word game begins anew with a different solo challenge. All good things. I will say that the weekend which just concluded was similar to the previous two, meaning troubles and issues aplenty and good reason for me to feel relief upon awakening at the outset of a new group of weekdays. Funny, the weekends used to rule the world for me, but now they are merely a speed bump slowing my progress until I can gain ground on Monday morning and embrace my devices. I can already see that the evening will feel deserved and relaxing.

The phase lock girl was the first time anything of the sort took place with regard to me completely falling all over myself, both physically and emotionally. I was probably as weak then as I am now, as evidenced by so many lines of code repeating the flood of feelings for that pair of cat eyes. She is not the issue, my internal processes being completely out of whack, are. And she came along after I decided to create Arina in hopes of organizing everything to be later taken one step at a time. Well, it's not working. The girl who sat across from me with coffee and conversation was the beginning of something I did not realize at the time... The long road leading to the last of my saving throws versus the world. Now I am further along the downward path and speeding into oblivion. The model at the race was merely the latest symptom and symbol of a much larger illness which I cannot shake. The writing, words of others, therapy, all of it... Helpless against the tide of my storm-laden demeanor and forceful nature. Think of me needing help but grating against it constantly. At least I know. This will never go away or be 'fixed', but I know. If I could see that girl from the past and speak with her again, I would gush a ton of gratitude. Yep.

Dry cleaning finished. The dryer's moisture sensor has gone to shit so I have to run everything timed until replacing the unit. Damn. At least it still heats properly. Eight years old, I think.

I have everything staged and ready for the mast work on the roof but zero motivation. There may be too much churning inside for me to concentrate, so here I am again. Going on one in the afternoon and my head is still trying to wrap itself around the incident at the track and how that situation relates -- or was precipitated by -- the girl so long ago. Maybe all weakness and maybe those two events which combined had more of a dire effect upon my life. Still guessing, I guess. Due to the constant computing, I am left to the sofa for a while. No antenna work today.

Well, I did the antenna work anyway. I removed the goofy RF section and pulled it apart, then mounted my new base unit atop the mast. The RF module had to be repaired since I messed up the wiring between the control board and ferrite antenna. I am going to put it inside a piece of gray PVC conduit (much smaller) and then see if there is an easy way to put it up there somewhere. The CB antenna looks much nicer than the old pipe that I made from scratch, too. Very compact and streamlined.

Tuesday. I am going to get my first vaccination later this morning. No nerves, though. I'll have to be sure to eat something before leaving. That will be one of those rides in which I am overjoyed to arrive home again.

All of yesterday's calculations with regard to the strikes are not waning as I had initially figured. Damn. I don't want them following me at each step because anything I try to accomplish becomes blown out of proportion and I have a hard time following through. Three of them keep haunting and remain right behind my eyes all the fucking time. During the afternoon the goddess brought my sunglasses since I had left them at her house the previous day, after which I tried to explain what I was doing out there with all of the antennas and wiring. That brought up a little bit of the CB shop from ninety-three, again. She confirmed that I met the CD changer girl at that job. The point was everything I learned there through the owners and brought to the valley soon after. The girl with the little blue car did not come to mind much until the goddess brought her up. She is not a big deal anymore. I was infatuated at the time and now cannot even recall what she looked like. I only remember the car because I was all over it for a couple of hours. I can hear her voice a bit, but nothing else remains. Too many years, I suppose. The most likely reason for my being so goo ga at the time was weakness, similar to the present problems which arise when something unexpected takes place. Three strikes, with the cat eyes and what I believe they saw right at the top of the list. Arina is in pieces and I am going in circles. I reiterate some crap and then lose track.

Key words:

Either comfort or peace and quiet (mostly alone with my necessities) leveraged many of my decisions to go here or there, often leading to problems later which had to be dealt with in order to find the comfort again. The one location resulting from the worst decision I can recall was also the most secure and isolated. Interesting that I had something extremely valuable yet did not see all of it due to being blinded by beauty for the tenth fucking time. That place was wondrous once the initial newness wore off. Unfortunately, after many years have passed, I see the process for what it was (and sometimes still is). I had allowed myself to be led in directions better avoided by none other than the heroin. It pulled at me after years of dreaming of those crazy trips from the past. And then when the situation in that comfortable place began to go bad, I ran across the country and then back and forth for weeks in search of what was lacking after being partially destroyed. Led around like a puppy, and the fault is entirely mine. Weak. Disillusioned... Which leads to desperation, and then on to those decisions I know all too well. In the correct circumstance? The race track girl could have become much more than a pair of eyes from another world. Perhaps I did learn something back in fifteen after all. Well, the comfort somehow became key and I used a combination of brilliant acting, rampant bullshit and a heaping helping of desire to find myself in each location after a bad decision. Thank Christ that girl and all she encompasses are nowhere near whatever I've become. That would have gone bad. I know it.

Just after eight and I am left to myself. Wonderful. I need this more than ever after discussing the crap in the previous paragraph. It's there, so I'll leave it. But keep in mind that the forces which made me this way were completely out of my control, much caused by two particular incidents -- I'm fairly certain -- and I did not reach for the tools to help myself. Years of the same behavior have served to cement those aspects of the world and the beauty, and I am left to be me. This will accomplish precisely nothing. Remember I said that. I will be no different for the realization and admission.

None of the indecision is up there. Think about that for a moment.

Maybe I don't need that woman to hold everything and look beautiful. I can work on the problems without some gazelle with huge eyes looming in the background to distract me like every other fucking form across my vision for longer than I care to admit. Blinded, weakened, stupid at times. A little at a time. I will take Arina apart within days of assembling her to learn. Splendid.

Cindy remains. Period. Big eyes.

Okay, that was a lot of shit to unload. I'm exhausted now, meaning I'll have to focus upon smaller items and parts of the day. The routine awaits, as does my appointment. Routine? No problem. It yields comfort of a sort unavailable through other devices. The appointment? Scared. Too much up in the air I guess. After all this time here, my hesitation to participate in anything medical is still present, plus the vaccinations remain unclear and unknown despite so many willing to take the plunge for either safety or the identification card. I wanted the card just in case something comes along down the line which could be restricted. Flying, certain gatherings, and the like, may be cut off from those without proof of compliance. That sounds like pressure to me. Not all bad, but pressure nonetheless. In the future we may have bar codes or chips embedded within our persons, and the vaccination card could be the beginning of such contrivances. The bottom line is the beginning of wisdom, once again: 'I do not know'. If I cannot get past suspicion or worry, I shall remain here. Everything related to the pandemic has felt rushed, and when it comes to something injected, well... Rushed means much information may be absent from the analyses. I can't have that. Call me a nonconformist or whatever else may fit your inclination. I don't fucking care. I am frightened. Pause.

The routine is finished. I had a short conversation with my neighbor related to the pandemic, too. He is wise and suspicious of everything in the world, creating another measure of doubt in my head. I canceled the appointment for the time being. Honestly, between the media, CDC, and millions of people with their opinions, there is no fucking way to be certain of anything. Conflicting stories, tall tales, whatever. I have to know, and right now there is no way. So, that is that. I will embrace my devices and dream of everything which is no longer present, all the while keeping the vaccination in the back of my mind. Perhaps another time.

Arina remains in my head despite the questions and statements. Cat eyes. Yep, again with the cat eyes. There was something in them. Call me desperate or whatever. I don't care. Just keep in mind that adding labels will result in decay and disdain. I have to do this.

I think the remaining hours will be spent with a little bit of laundry combined with work in the garage. I have to fabricate a mount for the vane anemometer and then get the little RF antenna inside a section of plastic with the cabling secured. That means a trip to the hardware for both. Once everything is in place and solidified to my satisfaction, I'll get back to the roof and attach them. The CAT5e from the RF antenna has been bastardized beyond words and needs to be replaced. Hardware store, again. While on the roof I can install batteries in the sensors and get the weather station booted. Overall that means five individual measuring devices on the antenna mast and the end of that project unless something else comes along. The massive Solarcon will live in the garage for the time being. Right now I am at t-minus six hours; plenty to care for my devices at a relaxing pace.

Almost half past eleven and I am still here. Gangsters into the fourth season. Stop.

Wednesday and the early shift means I am here for the duration. Yesterday morphed into productive work, yet everything I attempted seemed to turn to shit. The RF cable shielding will not heat or take solder. I was forced into ordering some connectors to make the cabling work without having to splice. I also made part of the mount for the anemometer. Today I'll head over to the hardware for a few things in support of the RF antenna and wind instruments. I would like everything solid and connected so I can actually work with the signals rather than making a hobby of the antennas. The signals and what I can do with them are the whole point, although considering how much time I've spent just trying to get everything on the roof, one might think otherwise.

I was reading a little of the previous entry and realized that my words may become a point of contention, effectively showing off how weak I have become in recent years. Well, there is no denying such a fact any longer. My brain does what it does because I have become a product of circumstance. Examples have come and gone -- some laid out here in excruciating detail -- in which I was led by the nose and by choice. No one pushed me, ever. The girl at the race was yet another example of the fucking beauty hitting one of highest points, yet the real force that day was something felt but unseen. Did it happen because I'm weak? Maybe... But it did fucking happen. I saw it. Mere seconds and the world changed. Because of that series of thoughts playing out right there before my eyes, everything appears different now, even me in the inside. I have to keep speaking of those moments because eventually I may learn why they hit me so hard. I really went on about her appearance due to the nature of the last twenty years and all that has taken place whenever faced with some kind of unique beauty. Coupled with a very difficult situation within, said beauty caused all manner of trouble. Now I have to figure out why. I must. If it is the desire, I am an idiot.

The same shit over and over is not going to cut the fucking mustard now. The situation must move forward, somehow. I fell down at the sight of her form and then the eyes fucked everything sideways. Perhaps there is a connection, just as what I felt for Ellie and Natalie due to their open, honest and selfless behavior toward a broken me. Is that it? The beauty on the outside combined with personality traits described in detail by the doll so many years ago? She told me things in no uncertain terms and then laid out her feelings regarding the desire and comfort. Ashley was a key. I know it. She was unique, too. Not until many years later did I hear anything even remotely similar, but by then it was too late. The subject relates to a machine but I can't go into that anymore. Not helpful, unrealistic, you fucking name it. All bad.

Impossible.

The house is mine for the day. I'll head out to the stores in a little while. Hopefully by close of business I will have all five devices up there, however I cannot operate the radio until my connectors arrive tomorrow. Assembling RF cables brings me back to those days of the radio group and our adventures. Heh. Beyond the norm and the hobbies, I don't know what else this day has in store. Problems in my head are not improving at all.

The key situations have summed recently and put me in the unenviable mindset of knowing more of what I am and what made me this way. The keys... Phase lock, Ashley and the like, put ideas into my head which will not go away. Not even a little. As a result, the reality is appearing more and more like the Christmas quote I've mentioned twice. The promise always outshines the actual. That could be due to expectations being too high for whatever reason, or possibly something as simple as the idea of dreams interfering with life. I don't know, but the keys all had a hand in this. Beauty and desire led to ill-conceived decisions, which in turn brought disaster on many a front throughout nearly twenty years, and all of it born of some kind of ethereal fulfillment gone by the wayside or never realized. This is not good and I am so fucking jaded after everything that the future appears even worse than envisioned just last year. I am finding each day more difficult than the last.

My fate may be forever going in circles and constantly analyzing.

So, why did I create Arina? I don't know. Memories of when I met Kana on the Palazzo casino floor -- and keep in mind that was at the height of the entire Asian, black hair thingy -- bring to mind the way I looked at her and what went through my head when she spoke to me on several occasions during that evening. I had been married just a day prior, believe it or not, yet still felt desire for that woman which created tension inside followed by feelings of guilt. The fact is I could not stop myself from thinking of Kana in such terms, no matter what was taking place at the time. There was simply too much; she was too close to some kind of 'ideal' over which I had been agonizing since I wrote about the girl at the car wash just three years earlier. Shortly after the car wash was the girl in the brewery, also soon becoming the subject of a short essay. My head was awash with beauty and dimensions, and I believe the Asian thingy combined with Kana's unusual height caused me to fall off a cliff that night. The beauty was clearly and solidly in charge of my thought processes. No getting around it. Arina was assembled from bits and pieces of all I've seen, right up to and including that fucking girl at the race. Initially I wanted some container for all of the things which make me frown when I look in the mirror, yet by the end of the second entry bearing her name, Arina began to appear as nothing more than another beauty causing me distress. A mistake, perhaps. The best course may be to deal with the problems and resulting decisions without wrapping them within a beautiful woman. Beauty causes problems.

Still going in circles. Help? Clarity? Understanding? Nope. Just visions of the past and daily distractions to keep me moving in any direction. Maybe I'll get the radio in good shape, match the mobile antenna and hook up everything in the car, and then drive out to the old stomping ground to see if any of that period still exists. Why not? I used to spend a lot of time parked with something to eat and listening to the chatter. Right now anything unrelated to beauty seems a good idea because again... Beauty causes problems. Or maybe I am the problem. Maybe time travels backwards at the speed of light. Maybe a shopping bag full of hundred-dollar bills will fall out of the sky and land on my head. Maybe...

This is fucking stupid.

I believe there is security attached to the comfort of my shows. They never change and will always be there for me when I need them. The familiarity is key, yet I do feel secure in the knowledge that I need not worry over what may be splayed across the screens or emanate from the speakers. Over and over for a year I have watched the same six programs, with a seventh typically up there during dinner. After my angry, deeply-hurt tirade some time ago over the show I tried to embrace, the fact is I am too weak to handle anything new these days. The creators seem to push everything until it is either shocking or disgusting, over which many in this fucking society seem to gush endlessly as they wait for the envelope to be pushed further. Well, they can continue their slow, apathetic decline toward death and watch to their heart's content. I will not be a part of it, as evidenced by my narrow choices. The shows keep me company and I can count on them to remain exactly the same for the duration. I need them and feel warmth during the days spent alone, and that fact even considering the industry is directly related. That is something I just have to deal with and the cost of watching. This is the same as every other 'Arina' entry. Same words, gushing over this woman or that, and then rolling on about my day which is about as exciting as a tax audit during an insurance seminar. But I keep doing it.

Here we go.

In the beginning was Shilo (her name based upon a song I often heard growing up), the imaginary girl across that big, open field next to the convenience store and gas station, over whom I obsessed and dreamed for a few years before we moved to Colorado. She was ideal in my mind, a girl who would not have had an issue with my severely introverted personality, and adorable. Understanding eyes, compassion, openness. Everything. She was a literal and figurative dream. She remained with me for a very long time through all sorts of relationships. By the time I realized I had a 'type', along came Juliette who was damaged, and her life had driven ideas into her beautiful head similar to those over which I agonized as a result of Shilo. On the heels of Juliette? Ashley the living doll, along with words and ideas the likes of which I had always believed impossible. Long pause. The Raven and her incessant and reckless disdain for what society has done to us as a species. Her views were unbelievable at the time and aligned with every fucking thought in my head beginning during the glow and carrying forward to this very second. Those days working at the parts house when I was constantly planning some kind of escape, complete with truck parts and a map, conjured visions of solitude and quiet. All the way from the earliest moments of Shilo to now, the idea that 'she is out there' never left and became the catch phrase closing more entries than I can recall without going back and counting.

Years later appeared the latest strike with huge, caring eyes, and she was real. Within minutes, the girl had three names and pulled at my heart unlike anything before. Something wrong with me? Hell yes.

Just after three o'clock now. The routine, some shopping and more antenna work is complete. I am now rudderless like most afternoons. On the upside, my trip to the hardware yielded some material for both the RF module and vane anemometer. They are now assembled together as one unit. Hopefully the weight is not too much for my antenna mast or the branch where they are to be mounted. Paulie Germani just referred to the bathroom as the 'WC'. Heh. Anyway, I might go up there and test mount the thing tomorrow if the sun is not too warm. Worst case, I have to relocate the anemometer to another mounting spot. It's not terribly heavy, but so many branches on the mast really wreaks havoc on the CG, and that translates to wind issues. Not a big deal. As for the RF module, it is now housed in gray PVC for a more subdued appearance and much smaller. The connectors for the radio antenna should arrive tomorrow, so hopefully soon the entire mess will be finished.

I need to think on this 'she' crap. Something in the back of my mind may have had me subconsciously driving in such a direction this entire time, or maybe the dreaming got the best of me. I don't know. I could see that girl emerging from between the half-walls outlining the neighborhood which bordered mine way back when, and she had been created by yours truly... Possibly for the same reasons my head moves from side to side every time I am out in the world. This is bad. What is out there? Anything? Or am I perpetually reaching for something that cannot exist? Am I reaching? Dreaming? Grabbing at handholds to save me? Was that girl at the race a fucking rope to lead me out of a hole in the ground? Yeah... That's what I thought, too. Crazy person.

When combined with uncertainty over the pandemic and my place in the world, this situation has me more disillusioned than ever. I have been reminiscing about the glow and other time periods which now appear magical, effectively creating the largest gradient imaginable between them and the current period. On top of all that crap, we are into the dog days, meaning football and the holidays are approaching quickly. Once again I will be counting the days until the second of January. There had better be some type of difference between the last occasion of that day and the one incoming. Maybe this year I will put up the tree the day after Halloween. Heh. Not funny. As much as I need those memories, they do create a sense that everything is either gone or otherwise finished. Many people born after the fifties feel that they came in 'at the end of something special' or 'wonderful'.

Another morning, this time the weekly interruption in the norm when she goes to the city. I'll have a longer and quieter morning and the routine will be pushed a little while. After yesterday, I could use some relaxation today. There was too much stress in my head and I was feeling run down physically by the early afternoon. That was my own fault and I can avoid doing anything similar now, but it still took place and I don't like the outcome. Keeping yesterday in mind will help me sidestep any difficulty biting me on the ass today.

Last year sometime (I think), I had been watching the fifth show -- which I am currently rolling through again during the evenings -- and there happened a strange combination I was not expecting. My focus was all over the woman who guest starred in that particular episode with her height, dark eyes, long dark hair... You know. Well, at the time I was trying a different pizza and to this very second the combination of the episode's story and the taste of the food is magical. Months after first trying the variety, I had another and no sooner did I take a bite when the same episode popped into my head. Now the two go hand in hand. It was on yesterday as I began to prepare stuff for dinner. She was all over the screen for a little while and I nearly backpedaled with dinner plans to pause and do the pizza thing. This is how I think. Little correlations which bring a smidgen of comfort due to being combined in the right way, and then lo and behold one day they are special.

I now see those little things as symptoms of something much larger which cemented itself many years ago, possibly back as far as the Midwest. Wherever I have lived, there have always been moments in which I am in the little space all alone with those comforts. No matter what else was going on in life, I was able to find those moments and sink in for peace of mind. If that truly began at the dining table in Michigan, so be it. I will say that the feeling now is as strong -- if not stronger -- than it was all those years ago. While working swing at the glass plant during the fifth season of the second show, I recall arriving home in the middle of the night and grabbing a plate of dinner left by my mom, moments later curling up in my room and playing the tape of the new episode recorded while I was working. There it was... The beginning. The food and my need to have the atmosphere around me just right. The episode last night and realizing I recalled the taste of the pizza merely from a visual points to the idea that calling myself a creature of habit barely scratches the surface.

Those traits, as I said, are parts of a massive issue inside me, partially fueled by certain aspects of life becoming unfulfilling, and partly due to my constant reaching for anything which appears comfortable and/or hopeful, like the cat eyes. I reached then, too. There is a vast space in me holding exactly nothing, a giant gap. I have to try finding the genesis. This is not easily quantified, either, so don't look for some huge realization or a dramatic memory engram coming to light and changing everything. Also? I may look deeper and find nothing. No denying that. I've come to understand that I may indeed be like this for the duration no matter what effort I put forth in learning. The analysis could be ill-conceived, as well. All this work for nothing must remain a possibility because I am not educated in what I've been attempting. Not by a damned sight. This could be me for all time.

The weakness seems to be strongest when I feel vulnerable or during those times in which I am detached from others more than usual. Had there been a few critical details only slightly different during that visit to the Toyota exhibit, I may well have thrown myself at that girl and been subsequently embarrassed as she pushed back. She didn't know me at all and I cannot expect anything of the like. Just a model doing her job, but in my head? The world shifted position in the cosmos. That is the brightest red light I've ever seen. Needy? Oh, fuck yes. I likely would have licked the dirt off her shoes for a two-second glance from those eyes. This is the largest problem imaginable. I am half a person, if not less. Down we go. And I just fucking saw her face again... Right then as I typed those words. Hair in the breeze, big, beautiful eyes unlike any I've ever seen, holy shit. I can see her at this moment. Unexpected. Fuck... Sort of like the cat eyes on Winter, but much younger and more stirring. I have to stop talking about her now. Onward.

The memories and the glow, all that other stuff which warms my heart from the past family affairs, and the feelings during the last summer before moving across the country all came about because of the age and the woman on my arm. That does not mean she was from another world or anything crazy, she was simply in my life at the time and we shared many interests and loves, namely the holidays. Roll that up with the show and how the future appeared, and one can realize the pull. I am losing track of the thinking again, damn it.

All this crap is related. I know it. Missing parts leading to very needy behavior, the desire to seek anything which can fill such emptiness (impossible), fruitless gushing and searches, and then coming here to attempt some description of what is happening inside... All related, yet possibly pointless. Everything, pointless. The caverns may well be empty forever. No answers. All the way back nearly fifty fucking years to a little girl approaching from the adjacent development -- in my dreams -- because even that far in the past there was already something wrong. The reality is the dream should have remained stuffed in the past, but nope... It is alive and well as evidenced by more than a year of me going on and on and fucking on about something out there in the world that can fix me. Ridiculous. 'She is out there', indeed. Is she? Did I see her or some sort of representation of fulfillment in that girl? Could her eyes have fixed everything? I fucking doubt it. Searching and searching and gushing and gushing. Where has all that gotten me? Nowhere. I know something is wrong. I just cannot identify it. Maybe I never will.

The PVC assembly may be too heavy. I was looking at it last night and it seems like I overkilled the bulk of the thing. Fortunately, it is not glued which means I can still modify everything. The little RF thingy is going up there one way or another because I want that signal in the garage and it's tiny anyway. The anemometer is the issue. It needs to be up above everything in order to read wind direction and speed correctly. Worst case, I suppose it can go elsewhere on the roof if necessary. After all this work I would not want to see the entire mast come down because I failed to ensure proper weight and balance. That would be a little funny, though.

Now I have to return to the fucking name in the title... Again.

A representation of everything I've done? Decisions which led to bad situations? Rolling all of it into a character who has the physical appearance of a goddess is as ridiculous as the futile hope of a random girl being the object of an even more ridiculous search. Make sense? Five thousand lines back to the middle of her first named entry this seemed a good idea, but now? Nope. She is coming apart at the seams, with each individual subject out on its own and in need of being addressed. The question of whether or not she was a good idea seems to have been answered all down this page.

I could not help but create Arina as a portmanteau of several names which have stirred me over the years. Kana for one, and because of her exotic appearance and accent, Arina carried an equally mysterious trait. The outer beauty was a simple affair after having gone around the world for such a subject covering many years, and the inside began to play second fiddle to her looks. Not good. I have to take her apart and leave the other names out of this crap because I am beginning to feel it is disrespectful. Arina was an idea born of my need to organize and categorize the problems to find relational points and possibly a solution to at least one, if not all. Well, this has gone bad. She will remain here in part and for a little while, I guess. I can't just drop the whole thing due to suspicion that she has been a mistake. I'll have to take small steps and work my way from her beginning as a fantasy all the way to the other side which will hopefully only show her as a symbol of what I am capable. The gaps in me? I still don't know what to do except sit here and type.

Have I been saying anything? Or is this just another long tirade?

Into the fifth season now, fifth episode. If you would have told me years ago that I could sit here day after day with those people and stories in the background so often, I would not have believed. Eh... Whatever.

Drea was so awesome in the fourth and fifth seasons. I could slap myself for having the hots for her years ago and paying less attention to her talent. Now the hots are far gone and the respect for her career is at an all-time high. She killed this role.

Soon I'll have to rise and leave this alone. I was considering publishing the mess this morning but there is always more. And there will be a fifth title bearing 'Arina', too. The hope is the more I go over the past and my feelings toward certain aspects of me and life, the understanding will come along as a result. I don't know for sure, but there is hope... Still. I simply must know why some situations send me off the surface of the planet so quickly, like that glance at the race. I mean... What IS that? Desperation? Looking for reasons? Something else? I cannot sit here and say straight out that I wanted to jump her shit because it isn't the truth. Yes, she was amazing to see, but I am not so shallow. The moment when she looked at me is the whole thing, and I will admit that in the beginning I was struck by her gait, height, hair and overall shape. I am human, and I see these things like anyone else, but it was the look in her eyes. Could she have been expressing nothing at all? Of course. I already know I am far enough out of balance to create something magical out of thin air. That is a given. But I still feel it. The God's honest observation is that I am capable of enormous and overpowering desire within seconds, and that came about when I saw that fucking girl at the pool. The one at the race? Different. Emotional, stirring in ways the girl at the pool did not (could not) conjure, and pulling at me so much that I am still going on about the 'she'. Out there, somewhere. Ah, fuck. Circles again. The point is this compulsion will not allow me to pause and publish before the next thought surfaces and drives the keys.

Stop.

Well, afternoon now and my routine is finished, plus I worked on the refrigerator a bit to remove and discard any ongoing science experiments. Shit... Kellie is on the screen and all over this episode. No, it's not what you may think. I always liked her character, but a while back I tried to learn more about her career and found that she passed away shortly after this program, in her fucking thirties. Damn it. Some things cannot be explained, no matter the medicine involved. She was effective, yet cut short in life and that makes me both sad and angry. Anyway, my parts arrived in the mail a little while ago, but I will not be working with the cabling due to the smoke content in the outside air. Like last August, we are in the midst of fire season. I'm not worried about myself or the house, only the others who may be displaced or injured as a result of the drought and weather. This is not good by any stretch of the word. This type of thing makes me wish times were different. Again with the times? Yeah... Again with the times. Suck it.

And now Anthony Ribustello on the screen. He is gone, too. Such talent. I would love to have known him.

I am not going to truncate or edit anything here before going live, but I must admit that I've become worried over slathering the screen with my feelings. This is heading in the type of direction I heavily shrouded years ago, but now the compulsion to splay everything has become overwhelming. I guess I'll just sit and wait for any flap. Of course, considering how vehemently I have defended this space and threatened readers if anything comes from this, I doubt there needs to be concern. Still, the nerves are a tad frayed.

Friday morning and my friends are there in the background. Coffee. This is the late shift, so I have more time this morning and a longer afternoon. Hopefully today will not be like yesterday with regard to the outside. The air was very smoky and kept me indoors with the windows closed, much like last summer. I was able to spend a little time out there, though. The antenna for my radio is now connected, but the ratio is high and I believe the problem is due to the cable being too short. That means I need to extend everything, also meaning the project will take lots more time. Whatever. I did not expect much anyway. Those cheap base antennas are never great.

Shilo

'Young child with dreams
Dream every dream on your own
When children play
Seems like you end up alone
Papa says he'd love to be with you
If he had the time
So you turn to the only friend you can find
There in your mind

Shilo, when I was young
I used to call your name
When no one else would come
Shilo, you always came and we'd play

Young girl with fire
Something said she understood
I wanted to fly
She made me feel like I could

Held my hand out, I let her take me
Blind as a child
All I saw was the way
That she made me smile
She made me smile

Shilo, when I was young
I used to call your name
When no one else would come
Shilo, you always came and you'd stay

Had a dream and it filled me with wonder
She had other plans
"Got to go" said she'd know I'd understand
I understand

Shilo when I was young
I used to call your name
When no one else would come...'

Copyright ©1968 Neil Diamond

There may be nothing I can do any longer. This type of scrape has me at sixes and sevens, partially concerned over what has recently transpired to send me flying, and partially due to what may occur in the future. I already know I have become weakened to the point of allowing the simplest detail or exchange to affect me deeply, just like at the race. Some of it might be the searching, too. Always. Whether or not there is anything out there in the world beyond some striking form or pair of eyes, I cannot seem to let go and just be content here. And any connections are imaginary, I believe. The race model? I have not clue one as to what may have been going on in her head. Wishful thinking? Hope? Yearning? Whatever... I simply cannot know something was actually there. I felt it. And the line I am brushing against is called 'faith'. Not good. Ethereal. Wondrous. Haunting. Flirting with that word is not good right now because it relates to a facet of life which has been causing almost as much distress as the girl. I honestly believe she saw something, however there is nothing I can do about it, nor can I get the feeling across to another person. Sound familiar?

Shilo was not 'out there', but maybe my head was. Difficulty in the house combined with trouble in the school drove me to dream of whatever had the power to bring a smile. 'Out there', indeed. I am beginning to lose the meaning of a phrase which closed many entries. Perhaps 'she' is nothing more than hope.

Not only do I feel the possibility of this never changing or improving, but I know deep down that at some point another 'she' will come along and I'll probably fall all over the place again. Keep in mind that the last thing in the world I would do is trivialize what I saw and felt at the race track. I'll leave such behavior to other people as they seem to take whatever I place here and boil it down to the minimum. Anyway, I hold that event in high regard because I DID feel it. I did. Whether or not such a moment was born of desperation or something else -- like missing pieces -- she did not look at me because I forced it. I just stood there. And here we go again... Over and over and in circles. Nothing is helping. There is Joseph again. I miss him.

The girl was beautiful beyond belief and immediately shoved everything else away as quickly as frightened birds at the crack of a gunshot. I still can't help but react in such a manner. The feeling takes over instantly and immediately leaves me stammering like an idiot when addressed. From a distance she stood out (above) from the other two who were milling around. We approached and I saw the maneuver, and then she walked away. Twenty seconds elapsed and once again I felt like a pile of dirt, as if a light breeze could have taken me away. That kind of power was not exuded by a girl, it was given to her by my weak-minded stance as a human being. Weak. Led. There is something terribly wrong to allow such things to happen. Beauty is everywhere and will always be as such. Everyone sees it and thinks or deals however they do. Why does it cripple me so? Why the reaching and desperation? Why am I still thinking about her gaze all these weeks later? That sort of beauty affects me far more deeply than it should this late in life. Far. More.

The sad state of affairs is I can see myself going further into the water at the slightest push. A little bit of influence or attention and my brain ceases operation and devotes whatever power it has left to analyzing what runs across my vision. Like that girl. And believe me when I say that despite me going on and on about her, she is not the problem. She is merely the latest example of something else. This will happen again. And though I know nothing good has come from such an encounter... I would die to see her one more time.

Switch for Christ's sake.

Last night I had the first problem of this year shoved down my fucking throat again, yet I was powerless to express any opinion. The broadcast television has been off for a few days because I am embracing the Roku and trying to familiarize myself with the idea of using only one device that precludes channel surfing. Well, a new show was on the Food network and based in a part of the world to which I am no longer attached. The scenery, food, language, and culture were once all over me, inside and out, whereas now I am lost in a sea of unknowns and completely detached from the past. This fact could be part of the reasoning for my near-constant gushing about the fucking glow. Nothing was missing back then... Nothing. Now? Everything feels far away; my upbringing, heritage, family, and everything which put a smile on my face and warmth in my heart. Those four years had me believing life was enjoyable and full of possibilities. A large part of that was a deeply important connection to both my family and the past. The history. The people and paths which brought me here. Well, not only are the four years drifting ever further into memory, but the remainder of magic from that time has been torn off and left to rot in the gutter. I don't know who I am, and I swear to God if I hear one more fucking person give me the simplicity of, 'you are you', I'll explode. This has affected me more than I can say, and I believe anyone reading already realizes that when a problem arises with which I am powerless to deal, I do not handle the situation well at all. Acceptance is not one of those terms I willingly embrace.

The streaming device means I do not need to see anything harmful, nor will I be plagued with those ridiculous wastes of my precious time known as commercials. Complete control, and nearly the only such control I have over anything these days. Definitely not my head. Unfortunately, I did switch from streaming the usual programming over to live last night during dinner, and that was the catalyst for this mood and the previous paragraph. I was a part of something special and now I am a part of a pile of shit. Not fucking happy. This continues to fucking strike me every damned day and is not going to get any better. Acceptance? Not in this life.

Ugh. Switch back to whatever. And my very detailed show journal just revealed that I've rolled through eighty-six hours of episodes in roughly twelve days. Not good, but this is me. I may have had much of my identity removed, but there are still parts left that I know all too well. Television is one of them.

Arina is now all over the place... Pieces. Much of this probably does not make sense anyway. I am trying my best to get the feelings across, though. I really am. Everything I tried to attach to that name is now detached and flailing. Decisions? Yes, some I recall and others which have become hazy, they are all around me and shining so as to draw my attention. One interesting aspect of me is I do not believe the decisions caused moments like those at the race. They are different and maybe came from something else, perhaps childhood and dreaming of a person full of understanding. I know that I reached far enough to create a fictional girl more than four decades back, and the latest strike by the one at the race indicates that I am exactly the same and should probably rack the focus away from decisions and how they have affected my comfort and zero in upon the causes of such overpowering weakness. The truth is I do not know. What I do know is everything is related.

Remember the issues? Yeah... I don't care anymore. No time for such things these days. Bigger fish. Huge. When I think of how much I spilled here throughout nearly a year about the two and all that other shit, I end up pretty fucking angry. None of it was my fault. I wish I could destroy the sources, but alas that is not my way anymore.

I don't know what to do with either of those names. Now they are aligned in a way I do not understand. Try as I may, every clear thought or realization seems to lead to more questions. The only idea which seems to make sense is that much of what I now feel stemmed from that earliest of dreams which is Shilo. I can't be certain, though. Maybe professional help can lend a hand, but I've been too scared to head in such a direction in these late days. Too much of 'I don't know' is beginning to drive me mad. Every step of every day I have those shadows following along just as Mr. Jung described, however I have not the education to take each part and relate it with any certainty. Dreams and issues lead to other things and can have tremendous effects upon daily life. I just don't understand. In the beginning I figured Arina was a good way of organizing everything. Well, not anymore. As I said, she is fractured. Perhaps a break is necessary.

The quiet in the house is once again therapeutic. I'll care for the routine, organize the freezers, and then maybe work in the garage for a while.

I have a lunch date in roughly three hours and a newly-developed knot in my stomach. I may have to cancel already. The meeting only came up a few minutes ago. Remaining here behind the door could be best. When my partner described this current state of life as my being disabled somehow, I hesitated to take it seriously. She may have been right on the money with that diagnosis. The more I think, the less I seem to know.

Shilo and Arina. The first name could have been the beginning of a way of life I will never understand. The second came about as an answer. There will be more of this. No end in sight. Dreams and damage, and now I am beyond repair, relegated to endless analysis, and still just as frightened as in the beginning.

Shilo... When I was young."