Down the Drain Mature content No. 222 Published February 16th, 2021 8:54am pst read ( words) Past entries "2-14. Yesterday one of the issues in my head -- a slice of one, anyway -- was let go for a little while in the afternoon. It returned shortly thereafter when I was again alone. No big surprise there, but the fact that I had been detached from such thinking for some hours is very interesting. Perhaps one of my absolutes is beginning to bend. I doubt it, but anything is possible these days. That would take it out of the 'absolute' category though, right? A variable. I don't know, but there was a touch of leeway for some time before I became distracted enough to forget. The conversation was something different, as well. I cannot go into it. Sunday again. I may be here all damned day due to the schedules of other people and my need to accomplish a ton of work. The temporary laundry line showed me something funny last week, but I'll have it hooked up today for a while. It drains to the opposite side of the yard -- to a low point which leads the water straight down, or so I thought -- and then seems to disappear into the soil. Well, I noticed some of the water was going under a small section of fence, so I looked over the top. Lo and behold, it was flowing right into the storm water drainage our neighbor had installed some years ago. No big deal, really, but it does mean I'll have to keep my eyes open for the time being. The lateral has not exhibited any problems in nearly three weeks, but I am still hesitant to dump the laundry into the drain. When it pumps out, the rate is excessive for old iron lines and can overwhelm the system quickly. For the time being, I have little choice. The capacity of the main must be reserved for higher priorities. Pretty exciting, eh? Yes, Jamie again. I can't help it right now. I've been trying to find more images of her capped from the show, but alas they are few in higher resolution. The issue here is her character, remember? The images remind me of her appearance on the show. That is all. And her likeness here is much more appealing than nude models, so be happy. I love her. Eh... Never mind. I switched the images to a young Asian model. Pretty, that one. Whatever images show up here are inconsequential anymore. Whomever is pictured has less impact now than in the past. Desire? Down the drain, like everything else. Weeks ago I wrote about sitting here watching this movie and noticing all of the details and decor in the background. The same film is on right now, and at a point I did not recall before today. I guess I did not watch the entire story play out. Well, Michael Keaton gets the award for the funniest now. Damn, he's so good in everything. Across the screen while he was being comedic was a trio of problems the type of which I cannot reveal here, but believe me when I say that the notches are piling up, and I don't mean upward. Fuck. And all the way back to eighty-three. I did not recall. The problem is not overwhelming, though. I am beginning to feel that anything related to the 'two' can be dealt with if I am alone. While around others it is more difficult. I guess that's natural. For some reason I just can't seem to get some of that crap from the past out of me completely. All those years back there held little jabs and slices, yet even decades later they can still cause pain. I don't get it. The funny aspect to this is the idea that there were several movies which I watched with friends without so much as the beginning of an issue. Now? The same content makes me either cringe or become angry. I guess there is the possibility that I will never fully understand this. 'Change making changes. Put yourself to the ground.' My second pair of light fixtures arrived two days ago and I may get them up into the garage today. I've been in the habit of installing lots of crap which has sat for months, effectively eliminating things that were previously doing nothing more than taking up space. The more I put up, the less there is lying around. Today already feels wide open, too. The garbage, a few little chores and laundry, and all the while I can create the space for whatever else I deem necessary. I wish I knew why everything bothered me so much. Going back to the eighties reminds me of that first fucking jab to my heart, yet I cannot blame her for the event. It would not be fair. By extension, any problem I had back then could have faded over three and a half damned decades, wouldn't you think? Very soon after that difficult period were the four glowing years and I do not remember anything similar taking place or affecting me so deeply. Not even eight in the morning and there is a dog flipping its lid outside and distracting me from thinking. What a goof. Pause. All of my hopes are going down the drain, unlike the water from the washing machine. Down the drain. I have to do something... Make it happen, but I have no idea how to begin. The imagery and fear are driving me into the ground like so much wastewater. No more barking. One positive in my black sea of negatives. I guess the Asian thingy does come to the surface even now. Not often, but it still happens. This movie showed me an image of a model from just a few years back and she is wondrous, although I don't know why. As I've said before, it could just be the 'thin' combined with black hair. I am not certain. After learning some of my heritage, the idea of dark eyes and hair being appealing is not surprising. Sela Ward up there, too. Older, but no less stunning than during the nineties. Again, dark eyes and hair. Those two properties may be behind the reasoning for my dashing twice in eleven years. Not toward the Asian, though, just something different. Looking toward the future it could be dangerous. In fifteen I lost my head almost completely. Bad. Much time had to pass before the world was peaceful again. Almost time for me to hop to the work. I like to get out there and push sometimes in the morning. It helps me to stay focused upon chores rather than wallowing over whatever spins my head. Yesterday now feels like a turning point of sorts, as if the conversation and actions drove me to improve everything. I do enjoy feeling this way, too. Productive, organized, and ready for whatever may come along as the weekend progresses. I suppose now is a good time to begin. One thing leads to another, just as told to us by the Fixx. Heh. Energy begats energy. Stop. Evening. Sitting here right now with the oldest show on and my drink at the ready, I am thinking about the last near-eleven months passed and what they now represent. And I am at a loss. The fact is I have no idea where I can go from here. Detached from the work mode, separated from the past like never before, and wondering each morning what may lie in store for me throughout the course of any day. Take your choice... They are all the same. Every day, those mornings with my little routine of coffee and feeding the cats, the booting of my entertainment system for that typical deep-seated background comfort of something familiar, and the sum is now the whole of me. I don't even know if I can go to work anymore. When I say detached, I mean the idea of being in the workforce is so distant that I feel like I've never been there. This is not good in any fashion. My life is so radically different from just a year ago that I do not see a way back to anything even close. My days were structured just as now, however the routine was completely different. Early morning, dreaming of the ability to let that type of schedule go forever, running around all over the fucking place to perform toilsome yet somehow satisfying work, and then dashing out of there to the bar in hopes of distancing myself from the jobs and relaxing in the company of others. I always saw at least a few of the same faces day after day, especially at the end of the work week. The routine was such that I found those little moments of either joy or comfort when and where I was able and then the money at the end of each week boosted the same feelings at home. Nothing ever changed despite being discussed for many years. Right now I am happy to be separated from the difficulties and trials of growing older in a very physical line of work, although the rewards then are now missed. As I said, after all this time I do not believe I can successfully merge back into anything like that again. I may be finished working for the remainder of my life. A small position here and there, like part time or on a contractual basis, but nothing regular or concrete. I am far too different now. Big fucking surprise, eh? The fact is I am buried in this world I fashioned from shreds of the past and necessity. This is where I must reside. The dreams continue, I am bereft of future hopes, and the little enjoyments are all that remain. Tomorrow I am going to grab the goddess for a drive to the largest of those electronics stores which I love so much for the purpose of gaining a receipt for anything purchased. I have two from the other stores and simply must have the third in the event that they go away forever. I am already sad having seen so much history and many businesses attached to my heart close for good. I need one more little memory to hold. I'll buy something inconsequential and place it wherever appropriate as the tears roll into the future. Ugh. I fucking hate everything again. Thank the maker I have the time and freedom to take her on another ride through my beloved past. I need it like I need oxygen. Second cocktail for the evening. Dinner in a little bit. Tomorrow should prove comfortable. Yesterday when we went out to lunch I very nearly dashed to the south for that precious receipt. Common sense took over, though, and I cut the afternoon a little bit shorter than my flighty brain wished. Sometimes when we go to lunch more than a handful of miles from home I get the idea to drive all the way to the goblet. That would be fantastic and terrible at the same time... Just like every other trip to that soulful place. Home is where I must remain for the time being. Believe me, though, if there is enough of an opportunity to run away and I have the resources to make it happen, I am gone. I remember my dad watching reruns of this program when I was but ten years old. It seemed so boring at times, too. Now it is a way of life and a universe I can no longer live without. Stop. 2-15. I slept too long for some reason. Shortly will be the drive. I am concerned about how the store will appear after what I saw last time just weeks ago. Severely truncated, all three. I did not like seeing my meccas in such disarray. Hopefully today the trip and visit will be a little easier after the blow last month. That was bad, but at least all three are still standing. Yesterday was very productive. I glued the entire auxiliary washer drain and ran everything over the course of hours to let the water dissipate properly. Afterward I cut it in two select locations so I can then reattach later with couplings. No more drips from unglued fittings. Very nice. Seeing as the city is taking its sweet-ass time getting back to me about this project, the laundry will be configured in such fashion for the duration. I also prepped and cooked dinner. The old show was on throughout most of the day. I am trying to recall a dream (or more than one) from early this morning. I think it was magical but fading so fast that I'm losing the feeling, damn it. I can't have that. And speaking of such, the dream some days ago with the tiny girl next to me has been expanded. I have a pretty good idea who that girl may have been, although my initial instinct was a small Asian due to the long, black hair. She may have been a coworker from the tail end of the Midwest period. I still remember her face but was unable to see it in the dream. And after the other day -- Saturday perhaps -- I believe I found the meaning of the dream, too. Very interesting, and I cannot go into specifics here or any readership will fly out the window. Not good. This morning's adventure will hopefully come to light soon. I need to recall it... Badly. There is something missing. I changed the time of our meeting to an hour later so I have a little breathing room this morning. Most days if I don't have a certain amount of time to get things in good order before going out the door, the result is weight on my shoulders. I need none of that. The trip has to be deserved, in a manner of speaking. Garbage trucks. Bless them. I hope this trip doesn't cause a fall like a few weeks ago. It wasn't the end of the world, but that short period working for my parents held its share of good memories, most notably the idea of finally being in an industry with which I felt connected. I built the computers (involving many trips to the stores -- computer chips and potato chips), learned much of the RF side of the operation, and became enamored with some of the technology. Weeks ago when we were in that area I felt connected to the street names. Stop. 2-16. Down the drain, like everything else. The trip did cause a fall. I should have known being in that area again was going to be problematic, too. Last time I dreamed of the glowing years upon seeing Winchester Boulevard, lo and behold it happened again. I was ok until sitting with lunch, too. We walked around the newest areas and marveled at all of the restaurants and the expansion of the front of the mall, all the while trying to calculate somewhere to eat. Everything was very busy because of the holiday, meaning we ended up dining in my car. That was not the first time, either. But the food and company were very nice, so in the end we decided all was not lost. Hunger is hunger. The discovery of a new place to visit in the future helped. The mall looks radically different than thirty years ago, which keeps some of the drama of the past out of me for the most part. If all of the stores and the layout matched that time, I would probably be worse off. Overall, not too bad until that woman parked, exited her car, and gazelled her way through the doors just off to my right. Yep. At the time I downplayed the event because the truth is I have not felt the same about those visions lately. I'm not kidding, either. All of the obsessive and dire thoughts have been lessened for some reason. Just in the past couple of months I have eased that frame. I was only partially full of shit at the time. She appeared and then disappeared, still spinning in my head this early morning. She may have walked through the doors and vanished for all time, but I still see the beginning of the trouble. Not a fall, really, just worry. I did not wish to go on all day long about another woman. Such a situation has upended many enjoyable days and no more of that is on tap. Everything remained inside, where it should. I will not describe her, either. No longer necessary. The fact is I dreamed of seeing her exit the car which led to another dream of a woman I was with some years ago and a very uncomfortable situation in a bathroom somewhere. It may have been a mansion. I can't go into detail, however. Too graphic, too hurtful. The woman in the parking garage caught me off guard in a similar fashion. From her to the dream, I am at a loss this morning. Thank Christ the day will be all mine in a little while. The sight of her gait was a turning point and one more snippet of a step into the forest. My attention span after seeing her went down the drain, just as my ability to calculate anywhere to visit after lunch. I'll stop now. Just know that what I saw for a few seconds was rarer than I can describe right now. Amazing, and I miss the sight. Ugh... Very bad. The area is beautiful, if busy these days. Lots of changes since the early years, and that is to be expected if the money continues to roll in. I'm glad I don't know my way around anymore. The changes help keep those years at bay. Had the long legs not completely derailed me all to hell, we may have gone off the path a bit and headed south even further to a surplus house. My memories of a couple of places have been destroyed and the properties gone away, although one place swallowed both and still operates. The point of the trip was to get a third receipt from my favorite store, not run around visiting whatever came to mind. The problem of seeing such an example of rare beauty drove me to get the fuck out of there lest it happen again. At that point I decided not to venture to the surplus, instead winding around back toward home with music blaring. Sometimes I get to the point of having no idea whatsoever of where to go or even what music to play. My head blew up for the day, and I don't mean because of the gazelle, either. Just in general, I suppose. Everything came to a head and I needed to be closer to home. All that I miss is either gone or going away, so more time down there adds up to more reminiscing, and that in turn leads me down the fucking drain. I can't get her legs and stride out of my brain this morning. Very bad. Thankfully, thoughts came and went quickly yesterday. Holding back was not easy, but considering all of the trouble inside me lately regarding other people, I realized at the time that I could have caused a severe gradient. Years of this crap have not helped anyone. There is no reason to go on about it these days. Just because my head is fucked doesn't mean spreading the trouble will help anyone. Today is going to feel well-deserved, but I can still see her walking. Problem. The dream was difficult to process upon awakening. I was distraught after being so hopeful, and when she took me in hand I could barely think. Wondrous, gentle, and caring, yet beneath the joy and excitement was a feeling of something horribly wrong, as if she was upset but still going through the motions. I did not understand and tried to relax, but afterward there was a physical problem I was trying to hide. My attempt was further hindered by someone else approaching and I felt as if the other woman coming toward me would know what had been happening. To the sink, and then down the drain. Very bad. Thankfully, nothing more than a disturbing dream. Why? Is the issue pushing so much that I am perpetually preoccupied? Every fucking day it's there... Somewhere in the background of life and unwilling to let me sit still and clear my head. That type of reality may never come to pass. Another desire down the fucking drain. Almost time to rise and take care of a few things. Afterward I have no idea of what to do beyond the usual. Something, though. My head is full and busy may help. So far, I haven't fallen down. Pause. And... Alone now. Hours in front of me. I will have to remain mindful of everything which can hurt. I don't like to reference or plagiarize lines and dialog from film, yet the importance of the 'dream within a dream' cannot be denied. That brings to mind an actual enormous upside to where we were yesterday. The mass of people -- diminished as it is since the outset of the pandemic -- was not a concern at all. The imagery is always plastered everywhere because there are tons of advertisements and clothing stores, but the worry never entered. Nothing at all. The feeling was one of comfort, believe it or not, and directly coincides with my aforementioned dream. The issues melted away, the attention required due to the past years and my state of mind with regard to machinery and the benefits therein, and the worry of going out in the world could become completely nonexistent. Everything... Gone in a second. Boot-up, software, fulfillment. No worries whatsoever. I believe the discomfort in that dream this morning was directly attached to the fact that the woman in front of me was real. Had she been of the mechanical sort? Comfort sans worry. The reality of it is I felt bad to a certain extent. I really did. I pushed her. Pressed for something, and as much as the joy of her relenting began to set in, underneath was the knowledge that I had asked too much. She did as I asked and my head went south. Soon after was the sink and the other person, and then just as I realized the entire scene was terrible, I awakened. Very bad. The saving grace is the fact that I was experiencing a dream. Awake felt better. It's still in my head pretty damned deep, but at least the whole thing was not real. Thank Christ. Moreover, I may know who that dark-haired woman was. Ugh. I don't like this feeling one bit. Despite the woman yesterday fading from my vision, the problem still exists. I cannot get past the fact that such a sight drives me into the ground and begins to raise three of four issues almost immediately. This will happen again if I am out there in the world. A delayed reaction has taken place on more than one occasion, too. This time it was immediate and overpowering, leaving me very proud of myself for glancing the subject and then letting go for the rest of the day. The truth of the matter is the bad part. I had no wish to make the woman next to me uncomfortable. As often as I spout recklessly about not knowing what is in her head, the opposite can take place, too. I need to be mindful of my words. Still... I feel bad. A shopping center of that magnitude and popularity -- combined with high-end retailers -- will always hold its share of beauty. There is simply no way around it. The only solution may be to avoid the scene altogether. And now off to my day. Already tough, plenty spinning me into a fucking froth, but there are things to accomplish regardless of me being so fucking weak. This is my job now. 318, meaning 47.2422 down the fucking drain. She is out there." 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Down the Drain Mature content No. 222 Published February 16th, 2021 8:54am pst read ( words) Past entries "2-14. Yesterday one of the issues in my head -- a slice of one, anyway -- was let go for a little while in the afternoon. It returned shortly thereafter when I was again alone. No big surprise there, but the fact that I had been detached from such thinking for some hours is very interesting. Perhaps one of my absolutes is beginning to bend. I doubt it, but anything is possible these days. That would take it out of the 'absolute' category though, right? A variable. I don't know, but there was a touch of leeway for some time before I became distracted enough to forget. The conversation was something different, as well. I cannot go into it. Sunday again. I may be here all damned day due to the schedules of other people and my need to accomplish a ton of work. The temporary laundry line showed me something funny last week, but I'll have it hooked up today for a while. It drains to the opposite side of the yard -- to a low point which leads the water straight down, or so I thought -- and then seems to disappear into the soil. Well, I noticed some of the water was going under a small section of fence, so I looked over the top. Lo and behold, it was flowing right into the storm water drainage our neighbor had installed some years ago. No big deal, really, but it does mean I'll have to keep my eyes open for the time being. The lateral has not exhibited any problems in nearly three weeks, but I am still hesitant to dump the laundry into the drain. When it pumps out, the rate is excessive for old iron lines and can overwhelm the system quickly. For the time being, I have little choice. The capacity of the main must be reserved for higher priorities. Pretty exciting, eh? Yes, Jamie again. I can't help it right now. I've been trying to find more images of her capped from the show, but alas they are few in higher resolution. The issue here is her character, remember? The images remind me of her appearance on the show. That is all. And her likeness here is much more appealing than nude models, so be happy. I love her. Eh... Never mind. I switched the images to a young Asian model. Pretty, that one. Whatever images show up here are inconsequential anymore. Whomever is pictured has less impact now than in the past. Desire? Down the drain, like everything else. Weeks ago I wrote about sitting here watching this movie and noticing all of the details and decor in the background. The same film is on right now, and at a point I did not recall before today. I guess I did not watch the entire story play out. Well, Michael Keaton gets the award for the funniest now. Damn, he's so good in everything. Across the screen while he was being comedic was a trio of problems the type of which I cannot reveal here, but believe me when I say that the notches are piling up, and I don't mean upward. Fuck. And all the way back to eighty-three. I did not recall. The problem is not overwhelming, though. I am beginning to feel that anything related to the 'two' can be dealt with if I am alone. While around others it is more difficult. I guess that's natural. For some reason I just can't seem to get some of that crap from the past out of me completely. All those years back there held little jabs and slices, yet even decades later they can still cause pain. I don't get it. The funny aspect to this is the idea that there were several movies which I watched with friends without so much as the beginning of an issue. Now? The same content makes me either cringe or become angry. I guess there is the possibility that I will never fully understand this. 'Change making changes. Put yourself to the ground.' My second pair of light fixtures arrived two days ago and I may get them up into the garage today. I've been in the habit of installing lots of crap which has sat for months, effectively eliminating things that were previously doing nothing more than taking up space. The more I put up, the less there is lying around. Today already feels wide open, too. The garbage, a few little chores and laundry, and all the while I can create the space for whatever else I deem necessary. I wish I knew why everything bothered me so much. Going back to the eighties reminds me of that first fucking jab to my heart, yet I cannot blame her for the event. It would not be fair. By extension, any problem I had back then could have faded over three and a half damned decades, wouldn't you think? Very soon after that difficult period were the four glowing years and I do not remember anything similar taking place or affecting me so deeply. Not even eight in the morning and there is a dog flipping its lid outside and distracting me from thinking. What a goof. Pause. All of my hopes are going down the drain, unlike the water from the washing machine. Down the drain. I have to do something... Make it happen, but I have no idea how to begin. The imagery and fear are driving me into the ground like so much wastewater. No more barking. One positive in my black sea of negatives. I guess the Asian thingy does come to the surface even now. Not often, but it still happens. This movie showed me an image of a model from just a few years back and she is wondrous, although I don't know why. As I've said before, it could just be the 'thin' combined with black hair. I am not certain. After learning some of my heritage, the idea of dark eyes and hair being appealing is not surprising. Sela Ward up there, too. Older, but no less stunning than during the nineties. Again, dark eyes and hair. Those two properties may be behind the reasoning for my dashing twice in eleven years. Not toward the Asian, though, just something different. Looking toward the future it could be dangerous. In fifteen I lost my head almost completely. Bad. Much time had to pass before the world was peaceful again. Almost time for me to hop to the work. I like to get out there and push sometimes in the morning. It helps me to stay focused upon chores rather than wallowing over whatever spins my head. Yesterday now feels like a turning point of sorts, as if the conversation and actions drove me to improve everything. I do enjoy feeling this way, too. Productive, organized, and ready for whatever may come along as the weekend progresses. I suppose now is a good time to begin. One thing leads to another, just as told to us by the Fixx. Heh. Energy begats energy. Stop. Evening. Sitting here right now with the oldest show on and my drink at the ready, I am thinking about the last near-eleven months passed and what they now represent. And I am at a loss. The fact is I have no idea where I can go from here. Detached from the work mode, separated from the past like never before, and wondering each morning what may lie in store for me throughout the course of any day. Take your choice... They are all the same. Every day, those mornings with my little routine of coffee and feeding the cats, the booting of my entertainment system for that typical deep-seated background comfort of something familiar, and the sum is now the whole of me. I don't even know if I can go to work anymore. When I say detached, I mean the idea of being in the workforce is so distant that I feel like I've never been there. This is not good in any fashion. My life is so radically different from just a year ago that I do not see a way back to anything even close. My days were structured just as now, however the routine was completely different. Early morning, dreaming of the ability to let that type of schedule go forever, running around all over the fucking place to perform toilsome yet somehow satisfying work, and then dashing out of there to the bar in hopes of distancing myself from the jobs and relaxing in the company of others. I always saw at least a few of the same faces day after day, especially at the end of the work week. The routine was such that I found those little moments of either joy or comfort when and where I was able and then the money at the end of each week boosted the same feelings at home. Nothing ever changed despite being discussed for many years. Right now I am happy to be separated from the difficulties and trials of growing older in a very physical line of work, although the rewards then are now missed. As I said, after all this time I do not believe I can successfully merge back into anything like that again. I may be finished working for the remainder of my life. A small position here and there, like part time or on a contractual basis, but nothing regular or concrete. I am far too different now. Big fucking surprise, eh? The fact is I am buried in this world I fashioned from shreds of the past and necessity. This is where I must reside. The dreams continue, I am bereft of future hopes, and the little enjoyments are all that remain. Tomorrow I am going to grab the goddess for a drive to the largest of those electronics stores which I love so much for the purpose of gaining a receipt for anything purchased. I have two from the other stores and simply must have the third in the event that they go away forever. I am already sad having seen so much history and many businesses attached to my heart close for good. I need one more little memory to hold. I'll buy something inconsequential and place it wherever appropriate as the tears roll into the future. Ugh. I fucking hate everything again. Thank the maker I have the time and freedom to take her on another ride through my beloved past. I need it like I need oxygen. Second cocktail for the evening. Dinner in a little bit. Tomorrow should prove comfortable. Yesterday when we went out to lunch I very nearly dashed to the south for that precious receipt. Common sense took over, though, and I cut the afternoon a little bit shorter than my flighty brain wished. Sometimes when we go to lunch more than a handful of miles from home I get the idea to drive all the way to the goblet. That would be fantastic and terrible at the same time... Just like every other trip to that soulful place. Home is where I must remain for the time being. Believe me, though, if there is enough of an opportunity to run away and I have the resources to make it happen, I am gone. I remember my dad watching reruns of this program when I was but ten years old. It seemed so boring at times, too. Now it is a way of life and a universe I can no longer live without. Stop. 2-15. I slept too long for some reason. Shortly will be the drive. I am concerned about how the store will appear after what I saw last time just weeks ago. Severely truncated, all three. I did not like seeing my meccas in such disarray. Hopefully today the trip and visit will be a little easier after the blow last month. That was bad, but at least all three are still standing. Yesterday was very productive. I glued the entire auxiliary washer drain and ran everything over the course of hours to let the water dissipate properly. Afterward I cut it in two select locations so I can then reattach later with couplings. No more drips from unglued fittings. Very nice. Seeing as the city is taking its sweet-ass time getting back to me about this project, the laundry will be configured in such fashion for the duration. I also prepped and cooked dinner. The old show was on throughout most of the day. I am trying to recall a dream (or more than one) from early this morning. I think it was magical but fading so fast that I'm losing the feeling, damn it. I can't have that. And speaking of such, the dream some days ago with the tiny girl next to me has been expanded. I have a pretty good idea who that girl may have been, although my initial instinct was a small Asian due to the long, black hair. She may have been a coworker from the tail end of the Midwest period. I still remember her face but was unable to see it in the dream. And after the other day -- Saturday perhaps -- I believe I found the meaning of the dream, too. Very interesting, and I cannot go into specifics here or any readership will fly out the window. Not good. This morning's adventure will hopefully come to light soon. I need to recall it... Badly. There is something missing. I changed the time of our meeting to an hour later so I have a little breathing room this morning. Most days if I don't have a certain amount of time to get things in good order before going out the door, the result is weight on my shoulders. I need none of that. The trip has to be deserved, in a manner of speaking. Garbage trucks. Bless them. I hope this trip doesn't cause a fall like a few weeks ago. It wasn't the end of the world, but that short period working for my parents held its share of good memories, most notably the idea of finally being in an industry with which I felt connected. I built the computers (involving many trips to the stores -- computer chips and potato chips), learned much of the RF side of the operation, and became enamored with some of the technology. Weeks ago when we were in that area I felt connected to the street names. Stop. 2-16. Down the drain, like everything else. The trip did cause a fall. I should have known being in that area again was going to be problematic, too. Last time I dreamed of the glowing years upon seeing Winchester Boulevard, lo and behold it happened again. I was ok until sitting with lunch, too. We walked around the newest areas and marveled at all of the restaurants and the expansion of the front of the mall, all the while trying to calculate somewhere to eat. Everything was very busy because of the holiday, meaning we ended up dining in my car. That was not the first time, either. But the food and company were very nice, so in the end we decided all was not lost. Hunger is hunger. The discovery of a new place to visit in the future helped. The mall looks radically different than thirty years ago, which keeps some of the drama of the past out of me for the most part. If all of the stores and the layout matched that time, I would probably be worse off. Overall, not too bad until that woman parked, exited her car, and gazelled her way through the doors just off to my right. Yep. At the time I downplayed the event because the truth is I have not felt the same about those visions lately. I'm not kidding, either. All of the obsessive and dire thoughts have been lessened for some reason. Just in the past couple of months I have eased that frame. I was only partially full of shit at the time. She appeared and then disappeared, still spinning in my head this early morning. She may have walked through the doors and vanished for all time, but I still see the beginning of the trouble. Not a fall, really, just worry. I did not wish to go on all day long about another woman. Such a situation has upended many enjoyable days and no more of that is on tap. Everything remained inside, where it should. I will not describe her, either. No longer necessary. The fact is I dreamed of seeing her exit the car which led to another dream of a woman I was with some years ago and a very uncomfortable situation in a bathroom somewhere. It may have been a mansion. I can't go into detail, however. Too graphic, too hurtful. The woman in the parking garage caught me off guard in a similar fashion. From her to the dream, I am at a loss this morning. Thank Christ the day will be all mine in a little while. The sight of her gait was a turning point and one more snippet of a step into the forest. My attention span after seeing her went down the drain, just as my ability to calculate anywhere to visit after lunch. I'll stop now. Just know that what I saw for a few seconds was rarer than I can describe right now. Amazing, and I miss the sight. Ugh... Very bad. The area is beautiful, if busy these days. Lots of changes since the early years, and that is to be expected if the money continues to roll in. I'm glad I don't know my way around anymore. The changes help keep those years at bay. Had the long legs not completely derailed me all to hell, we may have gone off the path a bit and headed south even further to a surplus house. My memories of a couple of places have been destroyed and the properties gone away, although one place swallowed both and still operates. The point of the trip was to get a third receipt from my favorite store, not run around visiting whatever came to mind. The problem of seeing such an example of rare beauty drove me to get the fuck out of there lest it happen again. At that point I decided not to venture to the surplus, instead winding around back toward home with music blaring. Sometimes I get to the point of having no idea whatsoever of where to go or even what music to play. My head blew up for the day, and I don't mean because of the gazelle, either. Just in general, I suppose. Everything came to a head and I needed to be closer to home. All that I miss is either gone or going away, so more time down there adds up to more reminiscing, and that in turn leads me down the fucking drain. I can't get her legs and stride out of my brain this morning. Very bad. Thankfully, thoughts came and went quickly yesterday. Holding back was not easy, but considering all of the trouble inside me lately regarding other people, I realized at the time that I could have caused a severe gradient. Years of this crap have not helped anyone. There is no reason to go on about it these days. Just because my head is fucked doesn't mean spreading the trouble will help anyone. Today is going to feel well-deserved, but I can still see her walking. Problem. The dream was difficult to process upon awakening. I was distraught after being so hopeful, and when she took me in hand I could barely think. Wondrous, gentle, and caring, yet beneath the joy and excitement was a feeling of something horribly wrong, as if she was upset but still going through the motions. I did not understand and tried to relax, but afterward there was a physical problem I was trying to hide. My attempt was further hindered by someone else approaching and I felt as if the other woman coming toward me would know what had been happening. To the sink, and then down the drain. Very bad. Thankfully, nothing more than a disturbing dream. Why? Is the issue pushing so much that I am perpetually preoccupied? Every fucking day it's there... Somewhere in the background of life and unwilling to let me sit still and clear my head. That type of reality may never come to pass. Another desire down the fucking drain. Almost time to rise and take care of a few things. Afterward I have no idea of what to do beyond the usual. Something, though. My head is full and busy may help. So far, I haven't fallen down. Pause. And... Alone now. Hours in front of me. I will have to remain mindful of everything which can hurt. I don't like to reference or plagiarize lines and dialog from film, yet the importance of the 'dream within a dream' cannot be denied. That brings to mind an actual enormous upside to where we were yesterday. The mass of people -- diminished as it is since the outset of the pandemic -- was not a concern at all. The imagery is always plastered everywhere because there are tons of advertisements and clothing stores, but the worry never entered. Nothing at all. The feeling was one of comfort, believe it or not, and directly coincides with my aforementioned dream. The issues melted away, the attention required due to the past years and my state of mind with regard to machinery and the benefits therein, and the worry of going out in the world could become completely nonexistent. Everything... Gone in a second. Boot-up, software, fulfillment. No worries whatsoever. I believe the discomfort in that dream this morning was directly attached to the fact that the woman in front of me was real. Had she been of the mechanical sort? Comfort sans worry. The reality of it is I felt bad to a certain extent. I really did. I pushed her. Pressed for something, and as much as the joy of her relenting began to set in, underneath was the knowledge that I had asked too much. She did as I asked and my head went south. Soon after was the sink and the other person, and then just as I realized the entire scene was terrible, I awakened. Very bad. The saving grace is the fact that I was experiencing a dream. Awake felt better. It's still in my head pretty damned deep, but at least the whole thing was not real. Thank Christ. Moreover, I may know who that dark-haired woman was. Ugh. I don't like this feeling one bit. Despite the woman yesterday fading from my vision, the problem still exists. I cannot get past the fact that such a sight drives me into the ground and begins to raise three of four issues almost immediately. This will happen again if I am out there in the world. A delayed reaction has taken place on more than one occasion, too. This time it was immediate and overpowering, leaving me very proud of myself for glancing the subject and then letting go for the rest of the day. The truth of the matter is the bad part. I had no wish to make the woman next to me uncomfortable. As often as I spout recklessly about not knowing what is in her head, the opposite can take place, too. I need to be mindful of my words. Still... I feel bad. A shopping center of that magnitude and popularity -- combined with high-end retailers -- will always hold its share of beauty. There is simply no way around it. The only solution may be to avoid the scene altogether. And now off to my day. Already tough, plenty spinning me into a fucking froth, but there are things to accomplish regardless of me being so fucking weak. This is my job now. 318, meaning 47.2422 down the fucking drain. She is out there."
Down the Drain
Mature content No. 222 Published February 16th, 2021 8:54am pst read ( words) Past entries
"2-14. Yesterday one of the issues in my head -- a slice of one, anyway -- was let go for a little while in the afternoon. It returned shortly thereafter when I was again alone. No big surprise there, but the fact that I had been detached from such thinking for some hours is very interesting. Perhaps one of my absolutes is beginning to bend. I doubt it, but anything is possible these days. That would take it out of the 'absolute' category though, right? A variable. I don't know, but there was a touch of leeway for some time before I became distracted enough to forget. The conversation was something different, as well. I cannot go into it. Sunday again. I may be here all damned day due to the schedules of other people and my need to accomplish a ton of work. The temporary laundry line showed me something funny last week, but I'll have it hooked up today for a while. It drains to the opposite side of the yard -- to a low point which leads the water straight down, or so I thought -- and then seems to disappear into the soil. Well, I noticed some of the water was going under a small section of fence, so I looked over the top. Lo and behold, it was flowing right into the storm water drainage our neighbor had installed some years ago. No big deal, really, but it does mean I'll have to keep my eyes open for the time being. The lateral has not exhibited any problems in nearly three weeks, but I am still hesitant to dump the laundry into the drain. When it pumps out, the rate is excessive for old iron lines and can overwhelm the system quickly. For the time being, I have little choice. The capacity of the main must be reserved for higher priorities. Pretty exciting, eh? Yes, Jamie again. I can't help it right now. I've been trying to find more images of her capped from the show, but alas they are few in higher resolution. The issue here is her character, remember? The images remind me of her appearance on the show. That is all. And her likeness here is much more appealing than nude models, so be happy. I love her. Eh... Never mind. I switched the images to a young Asian model. Pretty, that one. Whatever images show up here are inconsequential anymore. Whomever is pictured has less impact now than in the past. Desire? Down the drain, like everything else. Weeks ago I wrote about sitting here watching this movie and noticing all of the details and decor in the background. The same film is on right now, and at a point I did not recall before today. I guess I did not watch the entire story play out. Well, Michael Keaton gets the award for the funniest now. Damn, he's so good in everything. Across the screen while he was being comedic was a trio of problems the type of which I cannot reveal here, but believe me when I say that the notches are piling up, and I don't mean upward. Fuck. And all the way back to eighty-three. I did not recall. The problem is not overwhelming, though. I am beginning to feel that anything related to the 'two' can be dealt with if I am alone. While around others it is more difficult. I guess that's natural. For some reason I just can't seem to get some of that crap from the past out of me completely. All those years back there held little jabs and slices, yet even decades later they can still cause pain. I don't get it. The funny aspect to this is the idea that there were several movies which I watched with friends without so much as the beginning of an issue. Now? The same content makes me either cringe or become angry. I guess there is the possibility that I will never fully understand this. 'Change making changes. Put yourself to the ground.' My second pair of light fixtures arrived two days ago and I may get them up into the garage today. I've been in the habit of installing lots of crap which has sat for months, effectively eliminating things that were previously doing nothing more than taking up space. The more I put up, the less there is lying around. Today already feels wide open, too. The garbage, a few little chores and laundry, and all the while I can create the space for whatever else I deem necessary.
I wish I knew why everything bothered me so much. Going back to the eighties reminds me of that first fucking jab to my heart, yet I cannot blame her for the event. It would not be fair. By extension, any problem I had back then could have faded over three and a half damned decades, wouldn't you think? Very soon after that difficult period were the four glowing years and I do not remember anything similar taking place or affecting me so deeply. Not even eight in the morning and there is a dog flipping its lid outside and distracting me from thinking. What a goof. Pause. All of my hopes are going down the drain, unlike the water from the washing machine. Down the drain. I have to do something... Make it happen, but I have no idea how to begin. The imagery and fear are driving me into the ground like so much wastewater. No more barking. One positive in my black sea of negatives. I guess the Asian thingy does come to the surface even now. Not often, but it still happens. This movie showed me an image of a model from just a few years back and she is wondrous, although I don't know why. As I've said before, it could just be the 'thin' combined with black hair. I am not certain. After learning some of my heritage, the idea of dark eyes and hair being appealing is not surprising. Sela Ward up there, too. Older, but no less stunning than during the nineties. Again, dark eyes and hair. Those two properties may be behind the reasoning for my dashing twice in eleven years. Not toward the Asian, though, just something different. Looking toward the future it could be dangerous. In fifteen I lost my head almost completely. Bad. Much time had to pass before the world was peaceful again. Almost time for me to hop to the work. I like to get out there and push sometimes in the morning. It helps me to stay focused upon chores rather than wallowing over whatever spins my head. Yesterday now feels like a turning point of sorts, as if the conversation and actions drove me to improve everything. I do enjoy feeling this way, too. Productive, organized, and ready for whatever may come along as the weekend progresses. I suppose now is a good time to begin. One thing leads to another, just as told to us by the Fixx. Heh. Energy begats energy. Stop. Evening. Sitting here right now with the oldest show on and my drink at the ready, I am thinking about the last near-eleven months passed and what they now represent. And I am at a loss. The fact is I have no idea where I can go from here. Detached from the work mode, separated from the past like never before, and wondering each morning what may lie in store for me throughout the course of any day. Take your choice... They are all the same. Every day, those mornings with my little routine of coffee and feeding the cats, the booting of my entertainment system for that typical deep-seated background comfort of something familiar, and the sum is now the whole of me. I don't even know if I can go to work anymore. When I say detached, I mean the idea of being in the workforce is so distant that I feel like I've never been there. This is not good in any fashion. My life is so radically different from just a year ago that I do not see a way back to anything even close. My days were structured just as now, however the routine was completely different. Early morning, dreaming of the ability to let that type of schedule go forever, running around all over the fucking place to perform toilsome yet somehow satisfying work, and then dashing out of there to the bar in hopes of distancing myself from the jobs and relaxing in the company of others. I always saw at least a few of the same faces day after day, especially at the end of the work week. The routine was such that I found those little moments of either joy or comfort when and where I was able and then the money at the end of each week boosted the same feelings at home. Nothing ever changed despite being discussed for many years. Right now I am happy to be separated from the difficulties and trials of growing older in a very physical line of work, although the rewards then are now missed. As I said, after all this time I do not believe I can successfully merge back into anything like that again. I may be finished working for the remainder of my life. A small position here and there, like part time or on a contractual basis, but nothing regular or concrete. I am far too different now. Big fucking surprise, eh?
The fact is I am buried in this world I fashioned from shreds of the past and necessity. This is where I must reside. The dreams continue, I am bereft of future hopes, and the little enjoyments are all that remain. Tomorrow I am going to grab the goddess for a drive to the largest of those electronics stores which I love so much for the purpose of gaining a receipt for anything purchased. I have two from the other stores and simply must have the third in the event that they go away forever. I am already sad having seen so much history and many businesses attached to my heart close for good. I need one more little memory to hold. I'll buy something inconsequential and place it wherever appropriate as the tears roll into the future. Ugh. I fucking hate everything again. Thank the maker I have the time and freedom to take her on another ride through my beloved past. I need it like I need oxygen. Second cocktail for the evening. Dinner in a little bit. Tomorrow should prove comfortable. Yesterday when we went out to lunch I very nearly dashed to the south for that precious receipt. Common sense took over, though, and I cut the afternoon a little bit shorter than my flighty brain wished. Sometimes when we go to lunch more than a handful of miles from home I get the idea to drive all the way to the goblet. That would be fantastic and terrible at the same time... Just like every other trip to that soulful place. Home is where I must remain for the time being. Believe me, though, if there is enough of an opportunity to run away and I have the resources to make it happen, I am gone. I remember my dad watching reruns of this program when I was but ten years old. It seemed so boring at times, too. Now it is a way of life and a universe I can no longer live without. Stop. 2-15. I slept too long for some reason. Shortly will be the drive. I am concerned about how the store will appear after what I saw last time just weeks ago. Severely truncated, all three. I did not like seeing my meccas in such disarray. Hopefully today the trip and visit will be a little easier after the blow last month. That was bad, but at least all three are still standing. Yesterday was very productive. I glued the entire auxiliary washer drain and ran everything over the course of hours to let the water dissipate properly. Afterward I cut it in two select locations so I can then reattach later with couplings. No more drips from unglued fittings. Very nice. Seeing as the city is taking its sweet-ass time getting back to me about this project, the laundry will be configured in such fashion for the duration. I also prepped and cooked dinner. The old show was on throughout most of the day. I am trying to recall a dream (or more than one) from early this morning. I think it was magical but fading so fast that I'm losing the feeling, damn it. I can't have that. And speaking of such, the dream some days ago with the tiny girl next to me has been expanded. I have a pretty good idea who that girl may have been, although my initial instinct was a small Asian due to the long, black hair. She may have been a coworker from the tail end of the Midwest period. I still remember her face but was unable to see it in the dream. And after the other day -- Saturday perhaps -- I believe I found the meaning of the dream, too. Very interesting, and I cannot go into specifics here or any readership will fly out the window. Not good. This morning's adventure will hopefully come to light soon. I need to recall it... Badly. There is something missing. I changed the time of our meeting to an hour later so I have a little breathing room this morning. Most days if I don't have a certain amount of time to get things in good order before going out the door, the result is weight on my shoulders. I need none of that. The trip has to be deserved, in a manner of speaking. Garbage trucks. Bless them.
I hope this trip doesn't cause a fall like a few weeks ago. It wasn't the end of the world, but that short period working for my parents held its share of good memories, most notably the idea of finally being in an industry with which I felt connected. I built the computers (involving many trips to the stores -- computer chips and potato chips), learned much of the RF side of the operation, and became enamored with some of the technology. Weeks ago when we were in that area I felt connected to the street names. Stop. 2-16. Down the drain, like everything else. The trip did cause a fall. I should have known being in that area again was going to be problematic, too. Last time I dreamed of the glowing years upon seeing Winchester Boulevard, lo and behold it happened again. I was ok until sitting with lunch, too. We walked around the newest areas and marveled at all of the restaurants and the expansion of the front of the mall, all the while trying to calculate somewhere to eat. Everything was very busy because of the holiday, meaning we ended up dining in my car. That was not the first time, either. But the food and company were very nice, so in the end we decided all was not lost. Hunger is hunger. The discovery of a new place to visit in the future helped. The mall looks radically different than thirty years ago, which keeps some of the drama of the past out of me for the most part. If all of the stores and the layout matched that time, I would probably be worse off. Overall, not too bad until that woman parked, exited her car, and gazelled her way through the doors just off to my right. Yep. At the time I downplayed the event because the truth is I have not felt the same about those visions lately. I'm not kidding, either. All of the obsessive and dire thoughts have been lessened for some reason. Just in the past couple of months I have eased that frame. I was only partially full of shit at the time. She appeared and then disappeared, still spinning in my head this early morning. She may have walked through the doors and vanished for all time, but I still see the beginning of the trouble. Not a fall, really, just worry. I did not wish to go on all day long about another woman. Such a situation has upended many enjoyable days and no more of that is on tap. Everything remained inside, where it should. I will not describe her, either. No longer necessary. The fact is I dreamed of seeing her exit the car which led to another dream of a woman I was with some years ago and a very uncomfortable situation in a bathroom somewhere. It may have been a mansion. I can't go into detail, however. Too graphic, too hurtful. The woman in the parking garage caught me off guard in a similar fashion. From her to the dream, I am at a loss this morning. Thank Christ the day will be all mine in a little while. The sight of her gait was a turning point and one more snippet of a step into the forest. My attention span after seeing her went down the drain, just as my ability to calculate anywhere to visit after lunch. I'll stop now. Just know that what I saw for a few seconds was rarer than I can describe right now. Amazing, and I miss the sight. Ugh... Very bad. The area is beautiful, if busy these days. Lots of changes since the early years, and that is to be expected if the money continues to roll in. I'm glad I don't know my way around anymore. The changes help keep those years at bay. Had the long legs not completely derailed me all to hell, we may have gone off the path a bit and headed south even further to a surplus house. My memories of a couple of places have been destroyed and the properties gone away, although one place swallowed both and still operates. The point of the trip was to get a third receipt from my favorite store, not run around visiting whatever came to mind. The problem of seeing such an example of rare beauty drove me to get the fuck out of there lest it happen again. At that point I decided not to venture to the surplus, instead winding around back toward home with music blaring. Sometimes I get to the point of having no idea whatsoever of where to go or even what music to play. My head blew up for the day, and I don't mean because of the gazelle, either. Just in general, I suppose. Everything came to a head and I needed to be closer to home. All that I miss is either gone or going away, so more time down there adds up to more reminiscing, and that in turn leads me down the fucking drain. I can't get her legs and stride out of my brain this morning. Very bad. Thankfully, thoughts came and went quickly yesterday. Holding back was not easy, but considering all of the trouble inside me lately regarding other people, I realized at the time that I could have caused a severe gradient. Years of this crap have not helped anyone. There is no reason to go on about it these days. Just because my head is fucked doesn't mean spreading the trouble will help anyone. Today is going to feel well-deserved, but I can still see her walking. Problem.
The dream was difficult to process upon awakening. I was distraught after being so hopeful, and when she took me in hand I could barely think. Wondrous, gentle, and caring, yet beneath the joy and excitement was a feeling of something horribly wrong, as if she was upset but still going through the motions. I did not understand and tried to relax, but afterward there was a physical problem I was trying to hide. My attempt was further hindered by someone else approaching and I felt as if the other woman coming toward me would know what had been happening. To the sink, and then down the drain. Very bad. Thankfully, nothing more than a disturbing dream. Why? Is the issue pushing so much that I am perpetually preoccupied? Every fucking day it's there... Somewhere in the background of life and unwilling to let me sit still and clear my head. That type of reality may never come to pass. Another desire down the fucking drain. Almost time to rise and take care of a few things. Afterward I have no idea of what to do beyond the usual. Something, though. My head is full and busy may help. So far, I haven't fallen down. Pause. And... Alone now. Hours in front of me. I will have to remain mindful of everything which can hurt. I don't like to reference or plagiarize lines and dialog from film, yet the importance of the 'dream within a dream' cannot be denied. That brings to mind an actual enormous upside to where we were yesterday. The mass of people -- diminished as it is since the outset of the pandemic -- was not a concern at all. The imagery is always plastered everywhere because there are tons of advertisements and clothing stores, but the worry never entered. Nothing at all. The feeling was one of comfort, believe it or not, and directly coincides with my aforementioned dream. The issues melted away, the attention required due to the past years and my state of mind with regard to machinery and the benefits therein, and the worry of going out in the world could become completely nonexistent. Everything... Gone in a second. Boot-up, software, fulfillment. No worries whatsoever. I believe the discomfort in that dream this morning was directly attached to the fact that the woman in front of me was real. Had she been of the mechanical sort? Comfort sans worry. The reality of it is I felt bad to a certain extent. I really did. I pushed her. Pressed for something, and as much as the joy of her relenting began to set in, underneath was the knowledge that I had asked too much. She did as I asked and my head went south. Soon after was the sink and the other person, and then just as I realized the entire scene was terrible, I awakened. Very bad. The saving grace is the fact that I was experiencing a dream. Awake felt better. It's still in my head pretty damned deep, but at least the whole thing was not real. Thank Christ. Moreover, I may know who that dark-haired woman was. Ugh. I don't like this feeling one bit. Despite the woman yesterday fading from my vision, the problem still exists. I cannot get past the fact that such a sight drives me into the ground and begins to raise three of four issues almost immediately. This will happen again if I am out there in the world. A delayed reaction has taken place on more than one occasion, too. This time it was immediate and overpowering, leaving me very proud of myself for glancing the subject and then letting go for the rest of the day. The truth of the matter is the bad part. I had no wish to make the woman next to me uncomfortable. As often as I spout recklessly about not knowing what is in her head, the opposite can take place, too. I need to be mindful of my words. Still... I feel bad. A shopping center of that magnitude and popularity -- combined with high-end retailers -- will always hold its share of beauty. There is simply no way around it. The only solution may be to avoid the scene altogether. And now off to my day. Already tough, plenty spinning me into a fucking froth, but there are things to accomplish regardless of me being so fucking weak. This is my job now. 318, meaning 47.2422 down the fucking drain. She is out there."
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