September 5th, 2021 7:01am pdt

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

Arina e la Realizzazione (VI)

 read ( words)

"Remember the 'new office' that I set up early last year? I'm sitting in it right now with music and the breeze flowing through. This feeling harks back to when the guy had his motorcycle stored here and would perform work in the driveway during weekends. I sat here with the machine and wrote all sorts of crap, beer next to me. That period was shortly after I kicked all the social media to the curb. You may recall the mood. Here I am sixteen months later... Same beer, different music, shit attitude apparent.

'As I mentioned near the close of the last record...'

The previous entry held a realization that I likely know how all this began. Yep, that's right. One thought led to another through all that fucking exploration and a lightning bolt struck. I can't talk about it here, though. Too bad. But the words are in my head at this very moment, and it is all tied in with the obsession, Arina, the 'two'... Everything. The whole shitaree. I can say that Ashley the doll -- bless her unbelievably gorgeous and huge heart -- was definitely the catalyst for this massive realization. She really was. I can still hear her words and they resound every moment of every day while I am alone. That girl fucking KNEW it, too. Just like the one at the race, her eyes carved into my being and drew out more emotion than I had previously thought possible. Maybe I should refer to the cat-eyed beauty as 'Ashley the second'. Not funny. They are both gone, and due to such a fact the future is fucking bleak. Black? Yes, that too. I knew there was something more than our outward connection way back eighteen years ago but could not define it until yesterday. Just a few days with her in my huge Luxor spa suite and little did I know that the future would be changed forever. I am sitting here right now as a product of her insight into my past. She was only with me a short time, yet somehow drew the definitions like a gun. I wish I could tell her. I also wish I could spell out what I am thinking.

Carina's voice makes me want to fuck the music player. Sorry.

Saturday. No more Cindy for a while. She is beginning to look different than weeks ago. I don't know why. Now the images are random.

Sixes and sevens now. All this analysis has me pretty tired of trying to work with so much information spanning a very long time period. Jesus fuck it just never stops no matter how many times I roll through this show. Again... In the hospital room with her hair up. Unreal. I don't know what happened between last year and the present, but something expanded my feelings ten-fold. The character, not the woman. Ugh... Anyway, too much of the same stuff over and over can be helpful but also really exhausting. I did reach a point of understanding some of what has gone on in my head, yet still I do not feel that great about it. Nothing ever has a resolution, honestly. I may know the path, but that does not mean I can work with it. I don't feel good about this. Better than nothing, I suppose. Sixes and sevens. And then I see her again and everything ends up spinning and derailed. Fuck. Whatever. I should be used to this by now. I should be accustomed to the sight and what will inevitably happen. Don't even get me started on the other half of that fucking subject. Infirmi? Yep.

The duality has been pressing this morning for whatever reason. It could be driven by the media, but I am not certain. That type of thing really irritates me at times. I do not claim to be anything I am not, and my view of people is very clear, while others seem to hold on to images created through the most manipulative and damaging types of media, both video and print. I'll have to tread lightly on the subject, however, lest I create disharmony. I have to keep most of it inside or so fucking masked that even I may not know what the words mean. If I loose the anger, the consequences will be very bad. Not one soul will wish to be associated with me... Not even the most sensitive and understanding woman. Believe it. THAT bad.

Today. I am going over to her house for the antenna testing. My confidence in such a connection to the stations being broadcast took a hit last night, though. While watching a game, the image blacked out a few times in the space of minutes. In the past during the analog signal years, if the reception began to fail the screen displayed interference through the video or sound. Now, and with everything being transmitted digitally, such terms no longer apply. What happens is the signal drops completely and must be reacquired, a process that can take several seconds. This is bad and unexpected. Until the game last night, I only viewed the broadcasts for a moment or so before switching back to streaming media. The test today may prove that the antenna for local channels is unreliable. The only upside is the FM radio reception is solid. That will not help her, however. The point is to drop the cable television in order to save money. I will report back after I return home later this afternoon.

I do not have much of the routine today due to skipping dinner last night. We snacked late enough. I'll care for a little bit before leaving and then head in other directions upon arriving here after the antenna work. There is much to say on the recent subjects here, too. I just don't know if anything will be clear. I must protect myself.

Sunday. My usual morning setup right now, seven o'clock. There was much to yesterday's afternoon business. We took off and dropped the goddess at home and then ventured to pick up a few things, eventually ending up at the bar for a little while. And already I am derailed by the sixth season huge eyes. I just can't help it anymore. The upside to my being so goo goo ga ga all the time and spreading mushy hearts and bunnies all over the page is that maybe some will get tired of it and go away. Please do. If I love her and have to speak about it sometimes, that is that. The huge wedding event and reception hold key shots which may have originally welded her face to my brain, and it's on right now. Anyway, the bar meant visiting with my old boss which was very nice. The usual bartender and her bright, positive nature, some music in the background and a couple of sports on the televisions. Even the race. I actually felt fairly comfortable there for a while before being slapped by someone from the past. I didn't remember her right away (plus the mask), but she approached with a smile and remembered both of us. And then it hit me... The partner of a friend from the last few years. Apparently they had split and she was not doing very well, although she was no worse for wear and still came across as hopeful. Seeing her brought back those Friday afternoons arriving when work was finished and standing around with the others who shared our routine.

When I say 'slapped', it was meant figuratively, as she caught me off-guard with the approach. The girl always seemed to cut through the din and step to anyone to say hello. Recalling her was nice until I looked from across the room after she greeted us at the table. Yep, a little adorable Asian girl with black hair and expressive eyes. What do you think happened? It didn't last very long before I drowned myself in the baseball game and race. Self-preservation kicked in and I turned my attention away from her and went on about my afternoon. Little flashes of her exotic nature slapped me every now and again but nothing serious took place. I have to watch myself or the brain will lose its way in the presence of that type of beauty. Add to that the recent realization regarding the opposite sex and the end result could be overpowering desperation. That is not good, yet I am still weak enough to make mistakes. Avoidance. Period. The simplistic truth is upon speaking for a few minutes and making small talk to catch up a bit, my brain did not consider her in the same light as moments before. I left the bar and returned to my table to let them continue their conversation, and upon looking back across the room I saw her shape and a good portion of my attention descended into her clothing. It was at that point I decided to turn and watch the race. Thinking is one matter while staring is entirely different. That was that...

Until we stopped for sushi at the same restaurant as that girl I described months ago during the 'Andreoid' period. Yep, another. A tiny girl with long hair looking like the evening's appetizer. I turned my eyes away and waited for our to-go order feeling like half a person again. All of it due to my wishing to see my friend and relaxing for a little while at the bar. Desire, aplenty. I did it to myself. There is an interesting upside, though. The height thingy now only applies to certain types of women, and that fraction is shrinking, believe it or not. More later.


Seeing my ex-boss over there prompted a dream this morning which related to two different work situations from the past. A combination, actually. My work location for the big agency was the setting, and for whatever reason he was in some sort of trouble (nothing serious) and had to take a walk to one of the old offices to fill out a form. We discussed the matter with security, I had to wait at the truck while he took care of business, and then afterward we headed to the job which was a pair of sinks to be reworked. I don't understand where that came from. Maybe the atmosphere at the bar pushed some buttons.

There is John Costelloe on the screen. I always like him and that led to me researching to learn of what other work he's done. Well, the idea went bad. John killed himself not long after the role on this show. I don't even know what to say, but hoping he found peace. And on the heels of his amazing face is Anthony Ribustello, another soul gone from this world. If these people only knew of their incredible impact upon my life. Don't even fucking get me started with James. I think I feel love for him as an actor. A long time ago there was a gentleman who frequented the RC forums over which I worked as a moderator quite often. His post signature said 'Gettin old ain't for sissies', and I used to think he was referring to difficulties with hearing, sight, and other aspects of aging. Not long ago I realized his words were speaking of the pain involved in losing so many around oneself. The actors are like my friends and family. They are slowly going away.

Many people seem to behave as if everything hinges on children. The subject has become one of the biggest points of contention within my head, pulls me from on high very often, and leaves me angry and sometimes thankful. The fact is this: My heritage discovery early this year would have altered my view in a more harsh manner if there were children involved. Right now I only have to deal with myself and my own feelings, whereas with offspring I would have to consider their future(s) which is a very unattractive prospect. My head is bad enough already. Explaining what took place for nearly my entire life to a young person and hoping there would be some understanding has been unnecessary due to the past. Sometimes I am thankful, believe it or not. I see and hear others go on sometimes about this or that as relates to their children and cannot understand the drive. I never had the chance. Probably best I leave this alone now. The point is made.

I am looking forward to organizing the garage and house some today. Tomorrow will be the first day in nine in which I'll be able to embrace the solitude and routine. This morning is nice -- lots of quiet time and then whatever I feel needs to be addressed first -- yet knowing I have the place to myself is much better. More comfortable, honestly. Have I mentioned 'control' lately? I'll be in full control of the atmosphere. Sitting here right now in the quiet is causing anticipation to build over having some time today while she is in the city, plus the work week ahead. The new office will be in full swing just a few hours from now. Very nice.

I can already see this will be considerably shorter than the other five chapters. There is much I can't say and even more to be avoided if I want people to continue thinking of me as an actual 'person' and not some twisted fucking machinery.

Jesus holy hell this episode is the poster child of Jamie eyes. She is so beautiful that I cannot think straight or understand how she could have been formed as a woman. Something happened inside me during this episode, perhaps between last year and now. The more I look at her the more I feel. There is no way I could have predicted such emotion in the past. Never have I felt so strongly about a character on television, not even Jolene. This is insane and just keeps rolling along, presumably right over me one of these days. The log I have been keeping has a section detailing episodes and times when she is on the screen in certain situations. I am a crazy person. The first half of season 6A may destroy me. And on the heels of her looking stunning in the law office at the end of one episode is the next featuring Alicia and some of the most striking features imaginable on an actual flesh and blood woman. There is going to be much more of this, so get used to it. In my current severely-weakened condition, reaching toward impossibility is perfectly natural. My dream world is ever-expanding. Take a few seconds and scroll down. Look at Jamie. Or don't. I care not. This is all me.

The realization is in the title, incomplete, and difficult to understand. Plus, I can't really talk about it here because the exposure is unsafe. I have notes, of course, but they are private. And I keep thinking there is more to it because everything seems to be connected now. Arina still has cat eyes -- a cross between Cindy and the one at the race (yep, her again) -- and on the inside changes are taking place. The decisions are going away in favor of trying to learn why that realization and imagery hit me in the brain the other day. Arina can hang on to everything for me until there is more learning apparent. One certainty is the pair of events between Colorado and here in California all those years ago. More consideration of those times helps me to see that they shaped more than I had thought just months ago. Relating that period to my feelings for the female mind and form was not something I saw, but now appears completely understandable and natural. I just wish I could spell it out. Or maybe I don't. You probably already know how important the 'c' word is to me these days, and refraining from any description is exercising the same. That is all I have anymore.

I am beginning to feel anger, meaning it's time to close this machine and work around the house. The more I think about the duality subject and the rampant apathy involved, the more I need to burn down the world. But I am just one little individual with power over only myself, at best. This space represents a measure of control which has spidered out into exactly no other aspect of life, so I must keep going. I am helpless in all other facets. Eventually, I fear this will be my whole life... Hence the anger. I am to blame for only parts, not everything. Now that the disdain is flaring, a break is necessary. Stop.

Monday has arrived at long last. My idea to watch the big movie yesterday worked well for everyone other than myself. The industry again, some other bullshit that I will always be required to deal with, and then the long downward feeling afterward due to the event being over. I shoot so far up and really anticipate the film and lunch that when everything is finished I fall on my face. And there is Cara. I always forget the moment when she is introduced. Heh. Pretty eyes. Anyway, I tried to maintain composure last night and believe I actually did, but then things almost went awry when I nearly started another film. It was too late, but I wanted to keep that feeling going a while longer. I knew full well that the impending boom would be lowered after seeing my dreams fly by in less than three hours. Ugh. Now I have my precious Monday and lots of time ahead for whatever needs to be accomplished and I do not want it tainted by bad feelings. I just can't have that right now. I'll have to push a bit.

Almost time to do the morning stuff before continuing here. Pause.

And here I am. I forgot the appraiser is coming today so I'll have to structure my time running errands in and around that appointment. I have the usual stuff and linens. Likely a full day. Thank the maker for peace and quiet. Garbage trucks cruising the neighborhood.

Good God in heaven above... Again with the dinner table face after the incident with the ride. I jotted some details in my log to recall. Sometimes I just can't believe what I am seeing up there on the big screen, and that after years of watching. I already went on above about that woman, but again became so struck that I had to say it again. Jesus. Something happened last year, became inflamed at the outset of this calendar year, and now seems to be increasing yet again. Unbelievable. Frozen in time.


I do not like being pushed in any manner.

This morning my thoughts went into those duality/worry places just before climbing out of bed. I was considering the dream months ago (maybe last year) with the petite Asian next to me. I never saw her face, though, so she cannot be related to anyone I've seen around town or anywhere else. I return to that dream from time to time because of the feeling of control, although little was present during those moments. There was no relating her to the one from Saturday. The girl at the bar appears different in my head, like a sister perhaps. Her attractiveness is pushed to the rear when I see her. Always has. The dream was the polar opposite, too. Very dim, sexual, mysterious. I suppose there is to be only partial understanding with that one, yet still she has come to mind many times recently. I hesitate to go over the dream again because there seems little point. No getting around the draw, however.

I don't know what to make of this realization or the feelings it has dredged. The past is done and cannot be altered, but I must keep going and try to figure things as best I can.

Another day, and one on the heels of a very difficult night after watching our usual show. I caught some bullets from the storyline. They, in turn, brought up a memory from the early zeros (I believe) and a visit to her family north of here. A holiday weekend. The episode recalled several conversations over the years -- not the least of which was related to a clinic I eventually visited and learned that the odds of us having a child together were astronomical. We discussed the matter often, mostly during the latter part of the relationship while in the Midwest. I can hear it all again now thanks to the story last night. Splendid. I really needed more shit to think about. The next step in the evolution of my consideration of children then turns to the reaction to certain parts of others' lives. They often drive nails into my being. The holiday visit I mentioned above was one of the most striking examples of something I would never feel and it left me pretty fucking empty that day. All these years later and still there are little tidbits here and there which can bring the imagery to the forefront and render me a ping pong ball going back and forth between sadness and anger. Combined with the realization, I am surprised to be upright most days.

This morning is the anger side.

At the beginning of this section I mentioned being pushed. That is tough due to my personality and living condition. There has been so much turning inward that when I let free anything which invites commentary, the end result is a push, yet still I feel the catalyst for the pushing is me. I really do, so like it or not, I am the one who must make alterations and watch the behavior of people follow suit. There is no expectation of them changing because I have no control over that. The only grip I can have is on my own reactions. And then the knowledge that some of what I say actually dredges the pushing? Hence the anger. The other shit I've been including inside Arina and the entire reproduction issue are just more frosting on the cake. Most of that stuff does not make me angry, only sad. The eighties can bring anger, though. No getting around that one.

This is going to shift for a little while due to feeling as if there has been less and less reasoning behind trying anything. I am the same. Yes, I realize a few things take time to work out, yet even afterward I still am at a loss and there is nothing I can do. Putting on a happy face can help at times, just not right now. I need to keep exploring those parts of life and the relationships with people which seem to be the reasons behind my ping-ponging around the house. The media is another story. Sometimes it helps and relaxes everything, while sometimes it serves as a reminder that no matter who is right there next to me, there is no such connection as some have with their children. Good or bad, I don't give a shit. The fact is I cannot know. My ex's brother in law sat there on the sofa (great guy, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart) and his daughter came along and asked if she could sit on his lap. She climbed and folded herself into his arms, after which he said, 'sweetie, you just made my day'. I have not thought about that day for some years but the episode last night brought it back quickly enough to force me into withdrawal. Now I'm angry again. I did not have the chance to explore that part of life and lost more than one deep connection due to the inability. And one little thought: If someone suggests adoption one more time I will turn their head into a fucking canoe. Not kidding. I have nothing to lose anymore. Anger rules the roost this day. Everything ends in anger.

Conversing with people is interesting, like last Saturday at the bar. Everything is on the surface, partially to be expected. Small talk? I guess. I hear them and pay attention (although I don't know why after years of being second-class and often disregarded or ignored), but all the while my head is not in the conversation. I am looking around trying to find clues as to the possible reasons for them to behave the way they do. That standpoint partially influenced me removing all the social shit from my life last year with nary a glance back. I do not like very many people anymore. Sad, yet many situations contributed to this. Later today when the sun is warm and my garage is open, I'll be thinking of that last statement all cozy in my own space with control over nearly everything. Interesting, right? I can't control others so I eliminate them? What type of person does that? I'll tell you... Fucking selfish.

After yesterday's laundry and linen adventure, I have less to do this day. Also yesterday was the combination of running errands and meeting with the appraiser afterward. I finally got around to lunch and relaxed some, and then disassembled the remainder of the big excavator. I feel the need to embrace the fortification again, too. In and around whatever small chores I wish to address will be work in said direction. That type of thing helps me to remain calm and avoid being unpleasant around others.

Morning business incoming.

Morning business finished.

Circumstances created paths. Paths were taken or not taken. Some paths taken forced me to see that the other direction would likely have been better, while those I followed did their own brilliant job of turning to shit. One little interaction between James and Jamie just reinforced everything I feel. Sixth season, nearing the end. Anyway, Arina carries so much that I have to focus upon one or two subjects until exhausted before moving in any other direction. Those four which became five are now six. Reproduction may have had the biggest impact upon my chosen paths than any other ideas. One such realization is the heritage and what it could have done to any such relationship. My discovery would have spidered out of control and changed the lives of others, not just mine. Moreover, my reaction has been very negative which means there may have been difficulties inherent in bringing children into the fold. My attitude went south. Such behavior affects people, often in very bad or irreversible ways. Living with that knowledge would be tough for anyone, I believe. As much as I have heard the 'you are you no matter the past', I will continue to disagree to a certain extent because the heritage has effects unlike any other guiding circumstances. It is within, and can be quite deep, just as I felt it. Pushing that information to another soul is not an attractive proposition. Whatever has been going on inside me has nothing to do with anyone else (living), and offspring are in the same category. My being the end of the line could be a good thing. Pissed off, but still a positive. I'll try to hold that thought for the duration. Tall order.

Look at her eyes.


Ah, today is shaping up inside my head. I have a part of the routine finished just after nine in the morning, leaving more time for whatever seems either most pressing or compelling. The fortification has expanded from the house to my head, meaning I need to continue building an emotional stronghold and shove everyone else to the opposite side of the gate. Each step I take in the house or garage will be matched by an inner step toward grading people aside and expanding my two worlds, the dream and the reality. I need this because time has proven that they are most often nothing more than distractions from my clear thinking.

There is nothing I can do about the heritage, very little I can do toward the film industry, and the dream is something pretty much impossible yet enough of a draw to keep my weakened self looking in such a direction. The glow is gone and cannot return, meaning it is another facet of Arina which at some point MUST be looked upon as something which influenced the way I live and breathe. Reproduction was removed (dis-fucking-abled) meaning there is little point in belaboring such a subject, yet it makes me so angry that I often go on about it anyway. I'm sure there are plenty like me out there in the world and they can do whatever the fuck they wish in order to deal with the results, but I am not them. So far, that's three out of five which would probably be shoved aside by a person who is both capable and more balanced, knowing they must focus upon positives to tread the future and stay upright. Again, I am not that person. The present and future outlooks are unsatisfying, and before you give me a blast of shit over being negative, understand that unchangeable circumstances are the main reasons for the trouble. Nothing is let go. Now we have one more... The realization.

I can barely talk about it. No one will understand, and as little as two or three key terms will push readers to run with it and make incorrect assumptions. I am weak, no doubt, but not in ways you may think. There is a large segment of society which will place the ideas of children and child-rearing above all other parts of life with respect to importance. I cannot disagree, but seldom can I comment. I've been mired in too many conversations which transmit the fact that without first-hand knowledge, I know not what I say. The only sliver of information is the fact that at one time I WAS a child, just like everyone else. Nothing more. I'm not qualified to offer observations. I am also not as educated in life due to no experience raising a child. Thanks, people. Now go walk off a cliff. I won't miss you. The realization is partly related to this pile of shit paragraph. Everything that took place in the early eighties has permanently removed possibilities and left me forever analyzing and spewing angry words. Also? The realization. Not good.

Yesterday I mounted nineteen tap handles on a length of wood in order to display them above the back wall of my garage. I'll be picking up a few more bolts to mount the remainder, and then I can figure a way of mounting both sections to the trusses. They will be illuminated with everything else when the colored lighting is active. Two aspects... One, the tap handles are no longer in boxes taking up space, and two, my goofy garage is improved beyond the previous modifications. Very nice. The project keeps me occupied, too. Never a bad thing. I still need to get rid of some crap, but for now things are shaping up out there. The remainder of my routine awaits. No idea what to do with the rest of the day. Yet.

The Latin title is following my previous entry. Weak and desperate continues, while the realization -- as damaging and damning as it is -- floats just beyond my ability to type a description. The more I think about everything inside Arina, the more I see related to said realization. The entire works spawned from the eighties and continues inside me to this very second. God damn that woman is gorgeous. Ever-increasing, her draw. The worst part is I still want her to hold me and say everything will be ok. Back to business. Arina may now be as unchangeable as some of her inner workings. I can't let anything slide now. I can't rise above. I do not see a way to put anything to one side and move forward like a real grown-up type of person. Maybe no one else can, either. What the fuck do I know?

My right index finger is partially numb right now. No idea of why.

I'm tired of this crap. So many entries going in circles and then continuing on the same rails for days. I try to relate situations to each other and fall down, and then I learn something but it doesn't help. The learning was the point, right? Knowing? Understanding? Well, I did have some thoughts and ended up seeing nothing more than mistakes. And then when I did see something clearly it ended up too personal to place here. This is going to piss me off. One option is to shorten each entry to one line... 'Nothing has been solved yet.' Heh. All the while I am alienating people. Whatever.

Wednesday, September 1st of 2021. Mom's birthday.

Ah yesterday afternoon. A memory from early twelve. And if this fucking Roku doesn't cease fucking up and connect to one of my shows, bad things are going to happen today. I will lose my shit. I wanted to switch from the gangsters to the vampires for a while but every time I try to play the pilot, the screen goes black and reverts to home. I can't have this. No, the vampires are not that important, it's just the idea that this new device must be bulletproof if I am to rely upon it come January when the cable goes away. I'll get back to the memory soon enough. I was researching solutions for the home screen issue and now the thing is really goofing up. Restarted, funny noises, holy crap. I suppose after a couple of months it was due for a tantrum. I'm going to let the shit storm run its course and then go with some advice for dealing with the root issue.

Vampires beginning. What a pooch screw this morning. At least it's working. I am so fucking dependent upon the media these days that I began to get palpitations thinking I may have to sit here with nothing but a DVD. Damn. Now I can think a bit. Heh.

The memory is related to the realization because I was right at the tail end of doing massive financial damage due to being more needy and deluded than ever before, and then the fallout took place and left me without options for work. So, the relation is that my reckless, desire-filled wandering reduced the future's brightness from a blowtorch to a candle. And weeks later I knowingly blew it out. The opportunity was enormous and likely would have kept me busy and content until retirement. The only scrape in the entire works -- the one wrench tossed into the machinery -- was the main result of my gallivanting and throwing money in whatever direction that brought me comfort. Credit. Between the second and seventh month of eleven, my numbers went so far south that short-term recovery was impossible and the company informed me that negative marks on a credit report are tantamount to risk. I went through days of paperwork as guided by a helpful representative on the phone, later learning that I was denied the opportunity. Moreover, the interview was a slam dunk. All of my experience with government systems due to eleven years at the agency combined with years of RF experience and troubleshooting meant I was literally a shoe-in for the position. Within minutes of speaking with the first two people at the site, the third addressed me as if I was already hired. The only step was paperwork. It all went south in less than a week.

That is a prime example of the lengths to which I went for both the obsession and the precise type of comfort I desired. Those reckless journeys ruined my future. Very bad, and I had forgotten that situation for quite a while before a reminder brought it back to the forefront. Now I am severely depressed.


Fuck Arina for the time being.

The match between my personality, fears and comfort level, and the work I did for my parents is unbelievable. I fit there so well that I felt I could do that type of work for the rest of my life. Learning quickly, retaining nearly everything (I still have much of the knowledge after all these years), and then performing the operations without issue became a way of life. Fish to water. When the company fell, I was offered a position with the buyer of our assets and did somewhat the same for them, albeit much more field work. And then the agency where my skills once again came in handy. The position described in the previous section would have encompassed all of what I had experienced and been combined with a very unique atmosphere completely separated and closed off to nearly all of society. Behind gates, electronic locks and both DoD and military security, much like the agency, albeit a much higher level. In short, the position was ideal for me. This is now SO much worse because it was likely the last real opportunity I will ever see. Not good. Pause for the fucking cause.

'Man is driven -- in toto -- by his insecurities.' -- Herman Rabkin

There it is. Whatever insecurities which existed inside me up to the eighties became ten-fold after those two key events and I am no better four decades later. THAT is it. CUT and dry. Arina has been an idea for both organizing and understanding all of the phases throughout my history and their causes. She is both failing and flailing now. Diminishing. Confusing. That is pretty much all I can say here about the subjects. Anything further and I will be ridiculed. Just don't make assumptions. Any reaction of mine to date will be amplified beyond belief and roll over the suspecting person like Satan's own fleet of road machines being driven by yours truly. Understand it. Whatever situation held me prior to this paragraph is now much worse. Self-esteem is absolutely meaningless when held against the sheer power of a damaged ego. Read that again.

Today is Wednesday. My routine is finished. I have little which is pressing today, only those small items I can deal with a step at a time. I also switched from the vampires to the gangsters so the familiarity could carry me along while I cared for the usual. Seeing Jamie now -- at the very beginning -- after watching the series finale just last night is striking. So different at sixteen than twenty-six. Her nose alone is cause for double-takes. Heh. I will say that last night during the finale and a scene involving herself and James I became very distraught over such deep feelings for a fictional character. For whatever reason, her eyes gripped me years ago, became overwhelming just eight months ago, and now hold me hostage when they are on the screen. The scene just before the wedding reception when she is distraught is representative of my fully damaged condition these days. Her eyes telegraphed the depth of my pain with respect to many parts of life. That alone is reason enough for my feeling tremendous love for the character she created throughout the course of ten years. I may eventually lose my mind over the correlation. What else do I have to lose?

'The beast in me...'

There are many avenues I can follow today. Every room in the house can benefit from attention, the garage has its share of unfinished projects, and the yard needs to be addressed. Tree trimming or the furthering of my removal of the hedge next to the driveway. Does anything seem appealing right now? Nope. Does this endless exposition seem appealing? Nope. The realization has me so preoccupied that everything else is slowly disappearing from forward vision. Basket case. Eight thousand lines of Arina thus far. Meaningless? Perhaps. Waste of time? I don't know yet.

My respect for James has definitely expanded to the point of encompassing love. Jamie is not the only one. I would give my life to tell him.

Insecurities can lead to the 'beast'. It surfaced at the race. Carrying forward with my comments and feelings regarding the superior and fairer sex, the moments definitely led to the 'beast'. I'll have to leave this alone for the time being, but know there is so much power granted to them by me that I cannot fully describe it all right now. The girl at the Toyota exhibit is but one small example of everything lacking inside me. Thank fucking God she does not know me. Maggie did, and that went bad. Everything. Lacking. Pushing. Falling.


Thursday now, early. Coffee and my friends. And I'll get some shit for this, but I have to say rarely have I ever seen a pair of eyes look larger than Jamie's while on a college tour with her dad. The restaurant conversation floored me for the twentieth time yesterday because her face is framed perfectly. The episode aired early in ninety-nine, meaning she was but seventeen at the time. Beauty is beauty. Period. Models begin careers earlier than that, so referring to her beauty should not be a bad thing. One of the most striking quotes is above James toward the end and applies to me, believe it or not... 'No man for any considerable period can wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.' I have two faces much of the time and have not yet become bewildered. It'll happen soon, I am certain. Between the scenery, Jamie's face carrying enough beauty to populate the entire solar system, and the cat-and-mouse game, the episode is amazing.

More of the worry yesterday. That opportunity, the race girl, the future, my place in the world, and all of it swirling on my late mom's birthday. Ugh. Typical day, I suppose. The only out of the ordinary aspect of the day was a pair of LDS representatives approaching to see my garage more closely. They asked to take a look while we were out there having a smoke, and when they came closer I saw the name tags. No doubt they were on the mission. We had a nice conversation for a while and they took off. I actually gave one of them my phone number so they can return at a later date to talk. I've no intention of embracing their principles, but I will say sometimes religion is my favorite subject. There is no end to it and always something to learn if one keeps an open minds. I can speak about it for a while, but eventually we will hit a brick wall because their mission is expansion, not just education. That will not be me. Hopefully I don't curtail their ambition by stating such a fact flat out. I don't wish to offend anyone so I'll tread lightly.

Yes, worry. Some thoughts will not leave me for a moment, not even with one distraction piled upon another. The one issue presently commanding my attention is the aforementioned loss of opportunity due to my frivolity and reckless gallivanting all over the place and being led by a deep-seated yearning for a specific type of woman wrapped around me. I found her more than once at the expense of my future. The consequences seemed harsh at the time, yet little did I know just one key event would hang on and drag me down unlike anything else. Ah... Joseph again, God love him. Anyway, the issue came about through conversation the other day and is now commanding many of my thought processes no matter what else may be going on. I can't help it. The opportunity was absolutely ideally suited to my taste and experience and disappeared more quickly than it came about. My connection allowed for the interview in the first place and I will be thankful to her for the rest of my life, although the wonder and appreciation for the reference has been greatly offset by knowing both of the best paths in my life were destroyed and/or removed by my own weakness in actions and decisions. This is very bad. No big, beautiful pair of cat eyes (or the fucking pants) has the ability to take away such pain. The only minuscule upside is no one else was involved. All me.


I mentioned the woman wrapped around me and the fact that I tossed my entire life into a blender for the feeling. Honestly, I am so fucking weak and desperate even now that the same type of yearning entered my head upon seeing the girl at the race. This is indicative of the fact that I have not changed, learned or grown very much. Despite all of the analysis and realizations here, the need is still strong and present, meaning I have failed. Given the opportunity and correct circumstances, would I have run away with that girl? You bet your sweet ass I would. Fucking ridiculous. Thank Christ I am in no position to do anything these days. With any luck, by the time I have the resources I will be too old and broken down for such stupid behavior.

I have spent more than thirty years trying to validate what I am through unconventional and ill-advised means. Sources, too. They did not know. Also my fault. Year after year, and yet here I am no different than at the beginning of each downward spiral. I cannot go into detail, as tempting as it may be. 1.4 million words and the truth is as simple as a single sentence. Again... Ridiculous.

The day is now mine, for whatever that may be worth. I have the usual shit and some laundry, in and around which I will probably continue chewing on all this crap. I know some of the reasoning, yet still there are gaps. Most of the reasoning, actually. There can no longer be doubt as to the primary drives behind my behavior and actions. Thought processes which come about are also driven by the same. When I saw that girl and realized she was unique, the entire feeling was physical until the eyes were close enough for a clear picture. When she looked at me in that special way, the physical melted away in a cold second and was replaced by more wonder than I have experienced in a very long time. Every aspect of such an encounter -- real or otherwise -- is directly born of my past. Whatever need, desire, or other emotion... All from the same period. I desired her more than I can possibly lay out here, and that too is conducive to my weakness built upon a foundation of unfeeling bullshit I can never leave behind. One more time, and with much emphasis...

This will happen again. Back to the day.

The tap handles are all lined up and mounted. I fashioned backing to get both rails up to the rafters, yet found myself lying awake this morning concerned about their strength. I'll have to add one support to each rail at the center so I can feel more confident once they are overhead. There are nineteen handles on each rail, and that is a lot of fucking weight. I can't have anything falling down. Also while out there later I will try to organize more and possibly separate some crap to toss in the trash. Pause.

Ok, some stuff has been started and the routine awaits. I also placed another bait container out there for the little dipshits to take home. I'd like to keep that going until fall or their disappearance just in case the rain ever returns. Water forces them out of the ground and toward whatever is warm and dry. Not good. We shall see if this latest bait works as well as the last. I need to remember to move them when the gardeners arrive or they'll be blown all over the place. The routine will commence as soon as I have nothing to say for a while.

Scrape, incoming. Stop.

Scrape gone.

The other day watching a film of my choice really drove the nails in deep, somewhat worse than what is on the screen at this moment. Here I am with the routine finished, other things in process, and after lunch, yet despite the productive morning I am still falling down. I know what takes place when certain imagery is on the big screen. I know, but cannot take issue at all due to my double triple quadruple quintuple whatever-the-fuck Goddamned standard. I can't do it. Sitting here with knives all sticking out of me still does not permit any unfair behavior, no matter how much blood may be spilled in the process. Can't fucking do it. On the heels of so much in my head regarding the same, the other issue has been floating all around me and cutting. Some things are too heavy for me to handle and I know it's unfair. Such is the unfortunate price for other people's contact with me. Today is very bad. Just all bad. I'll get my chores done, though. I always do. One possible option to help me get through this period is the loud music out there and some decorating work. I don't know right now. Maybe.

Line number 666.

Friday has arrived without fanfare. Yesterday went up and down. I did nothing in the garage. Just laundry.

The film mentioned yesterday was a bit of a turning point. It showed me that nothing is going to change so my best option is to leave it alone. The more I worry, the less comfortable my head becomes, and then I am led from being fairly peaceful and into a place within which there is nothing but paranoia. I can't have that during a time when I'm trying to just live here and care for my business. Most of the time that path is plenty enough for me to be at ease. The other stuff can sit and await inspiration. This morning is thus far like most others in that I feel the day is wide open. The business will commence in a little while and then I'll be left to my own devices for the duration. One of the things I did yesterday in the interest of relaxing was to begin construction of one big car. The building process can be very therapeutic. I may have mentioned that months ago. Other than peace and quiet along with my friends up there, I have few plans today. And if the weather follows yesterday's pattern, the inside of the house will be very comfortable.

And here we are after the morning stuff is finished with the day ahead.

I added an 'anti social media' set of icons at the bottom of the master page just because I can. It will link to a form describing my feelings. Nothing crazy, just some commentary from my head and information about why I kicked all that shit to the curb. Just me. No directions, no ultimatums, no advice. I do not wish to influence anyone or anything at this point. Again... Just me. I calculated last year that after browsing or otherwise using some social media sites and content I felt as if my time had disappeared, never to return. I could have used that time slot for anything else in the world but chose to do brainless browsing instead. Shit came to a head and I dropped it. Keep in mind the icons are only 'anti-' to me and not there to attempt to influence anyone else. My opinion. The last thing I would do is tell someone else what to embrace or avoid. That is not my way and would eventually lead to lessening separation. More to come.


I don't know what to think now. Still weakened and somewhat desperate, yet all of the exploration has only revealed more concern. There have been a few symbols of my condition, not the least of which took place at the race last month, that I am continuing to analyze because nothing seems to improve what I see in the mirror despite believing I am only partially at fault. The two events drove me into realizing my needs have been ingrained from an early age. The best option right now may be to avoid dwelling upon the decisions in favor of what brought them about in the first place. Again, this is sensitive and I must keep the clarity to a minimum. Since no one is going to fully understand my words, gaze at Maja instead. Try to imagine how quickly I became paralyzed by a beautiful and stirring woman right before my eyes. Out there in the world, and hoping I could wrap myself in them and feel like a person.


The woman in the liquor store and the girl at the race are two representations of the same mindset, just as the thong two years ago. They were out there, doing whatever they did and living life, while there I was thinking about Ashley, Natalie, Ellie, etc. and how I felt while close to them. Linking such emotion and need to the past is becoming easier now. I am fairly certain that I have been deriving what I actually AM based upon a very special type of support, and something only available from a very special type of woman. This is not good and never has been. I am supposed to be a whole person, right? I don't know, hence a question rather than a statement. But the truth is nothing else in life has boasted the innate ability to lift me and send my head into believing in a word which encapsulates everything within. I might start drinking alcohol much earlier than usual. This day is wide open but my brain is being wrung out. What I am 'supposed' to be? I can't say much more without fear of backlash. I will be ostracized from every possible situation. I can only stay home so much these days. Ugh. Maybe I should force myself into a bad mood again.

I'll have to care for the routine and see how I feel afterward. Pause.

And here we are short of eleven with the routine finished. I need to marinate some steak for tomorrow and prep chicken for something this evening, so the kitchen is not yet polished. The gangsters are up there and I noticed Drea's midsection for the tenth time. Every occasion reinforces my consideration of her appearance throughout the series, and that being appreciation for what appears to be a ton of work for maintaining her physique. She was shy of thirty years old when this aired, yet still what I see is amazing. No, I don't have the hots for her. Never did. What I focus upon is her talent coupled with the aforementioned 'work' in keeping her shape for several years. From late twenties when everything seems easy and on into the thirties when the same lifestyle cannot be followed due to factors such as metabolism and other aspects of aging which work against how we appear as younger. Every time that scene comes along I see those muscles and the disparity between her waist and hips, and then realize she looks exactly the same throughout her tenure as the character. That is work. Just like watching the landmark film a while back and seeing Brad pull off his shirts to reveal his remarkable physique beyond mid-fifties. WORK. Rich or poor, intelligent or otherwise, if a person wishes to look good to themselves the bottom line is effort and diet. I don't give a shit what the ads for different 'miracle' weight loss schemes or 'easy' workouts may push, the fact is no one can look fit into their fifties or beyond without a genuine commitment and fucking tons of work. Discipline, focus, much more. None of it is easy. Drea is amazing, and it has nothing to do with being attractive. I am talking about health. It is work. Period. The character is open, honest, sweet, considerate, and like a sister to me. Respect. Don't even fucking get me started on her armload of Emmy awards. I respect what she did as a person.

All that gushing aside, my day is wide open now with a bevy of unequaled beauty following along at each step. I have been told over and over that what I am is not up for debate, but still I cannot easily accept the words no matter the source. I just can't. The missing pieces dictate what takes place in my head and heart. I need a fucking cigarette right now. The booze is already flowing. Hopefully I can continue with my goals today without losing sight. Sometimes the ambition vanishes by lunch. I must keep it in mind.

The ambition did not vanish, although I have not accomplished very much. The afternoon often wears on me due to the past catching up and not letting go. The names above, Arina and what I'm trying to do with her, and then those items which will not leave my consciousness for a second and remain unchangeable. All of it continues to push against whatever I attempt. I took care of the bare minimum and then worked on the big car for a while. During the piecing, I felt a deep sense of deja vu from a few months back when I built it for the first time. I was in the same situation then and fully expect to be right here many months from now.

Saturday after one of the most difficult afternoon/evening period in memory. Something I ate or drank... I've no idea. But I was affected right up to bedtime. This morning is already better but I don't trust it yet. Time will tell. I don't enjoy being under the weather.

Too many things I can't talk about these days. My outlook is dimming and my attitude diminishing.

The evening troubles have left me bitter and slightly irritated over all that shit regarding preconceived notions, being full of shit all the time, and a general retraction of whatever forces the line between reality and duality. Yes, that again. I'm kind of tired of it, to be honest, but there is little I can do without completely isolating myself these days. And that is not easy. Due to living here in town, eventually I need to be in contact with someone regarding something. No getting around it. Therein lies the problem. One thing will lead to another, the gates will remain unlocked just a little bit too long, and then the shit will begin to flow a smidgen at a time. For the time being I need to hold fast with the ideas I've embraced and paths formed in my head so as to protect myself from the bullshit. Being angry all the time is rather tiring.

I've established enough here for the time being. Dreams, problems stemming from seeing one or more forms out there and then falling off a cliff because of the weak need to be acknowledged by a person I don't even know, sitting here spouting about all of it and then cycling through again. The realization of confirming who or what I am inside through a very rare means is not helping me to breathe my way through a fucking day. I know it is true and about as deeply personal as one can imagine. I know it.

The last switch... Not good.

Sunday and a different kind of day than all the others. This is the beginning of a new period... A new way of doing things. No switches or any of that shit, just a method of dealing with the daily items I have not embraced as of yet. This hasn't been necessary. Yesterday's foray into the airwaves helped me to see that I am not pushing anything else in life right now and must change my ways. I am always listening, yet rarely speaking. Today will be the first day of the new period and a departure from what was referred to as the 'current period' since last year. The path from here forward will need to be taken slowly and stepped gently so I can maintain certain aspects of each day as I must have them in place. The rest is going to be graded, like people. This is something I knew was on the horizon since first touching upon the subject way back in zero three and again in four. No predictions. Just a dull, aching knowledge that the black was out there waiting and would engulf everything at some point in the future.

Small steps taken in groups. A few each day, and those days will be many. The airwaves helped to push my head beyond the small space I've created recently and forced me to look squarely at the future not as something worrisome and gray (sullen), but rather as a beam of light to be embraced. It is a place in which I can live by a set of standards other people will not understand at all. Questions will mean said standards shall be rammed down their throats. Soon no one will want to be near me, especially if I am speaking. I will continue to use the airwaves and my understanding of them as a connection to a place undefined in people's eyes. They will never know. The end of this section of my Arina analysis is also the end of my discussing how I feel about anyone or anything in the world with another person. There will be much here, however. As soon as I hear someone's voice addressing me with a question, the shutdown will be swift.

La realizzazione must wait a bit.

I need to get this the hell off the IDE and shoved to production."