Errant Glass Mature content No. 237 Published April 5th, 2021 8:17am pdt read ( words) Past entries "4-2. Going into the dream of yet another impossible situation may not have been a good idea. Now I am at a loss with regard to daily life. The giant excavator is partially built -- the largest set I've ever seen -- and will probably continue today in and around whatever else I need to do. Two items are on the mailbox and one more auction ends in three days. That one should fetch a good price. I'll need to get a couple more listings going today to maintain the trend. My daily routine, a bit of work in the garage, and perhaps more movement in the old office will round out the time. I keep thinking of a jab the other day which has provided vision into something I feared. This morning on the television? Reinforcement. Lovely. And mental pressure on top of everything. The imagery and bullshit throughout the past year have caused me to feel even more fragile than originally described here. Glass. I can do exactly nothing about it, too. Others have said the idea of releasing that old shit and moving forward is a good plan, but anyone reading here in the last five years already knows I do not subscribe to such a method. I cannot. The past made me what I am today and to ignore any of it would not be a good idea. I must remember from where I came, bad or good. There can be neither without the other, meaning I can see the difference at each step. Changing too much of me means I will no longer be 'me'. That is that. Maybe too fragile now. Blown glass. 4-3. Buckle up. Yikes was there a tidbit flash yesterday right as I least would have expected one. Right out of left field, too. Fucking bullshit, but honestly I don't believe the breakdown should have been so bad. It was a quick little moment that went right on by. And the timing was impeccable because I am writing about being overly sensitive these days, and this entry in particular. Many occasions have found me trying to learn of how I turned out this way, but I believe ceasing that sort of analysis is best now. I've learned very little and only became more upset and angry toward other people. I just have to live with it. Yesterday was a good example of me being fragile because the remainder of the day was spent with an image in my head. On top of that, and due to the figure in question, I was reminded of a situation more than a decade back before the transition from one temporary apartment to my old house in the valley. It was a bad situation after a trip to the city with our cameras in tow. A magazine which was pretty pricey for being a periodical. She picked it up and returned home hours later to peruse. After that I asked a few questions and received what may be the longest line of bullshit ever to come forth from a woman's maw. Not one bit was real and I knew it. Not even the episode with Riker trying to outwit a dopey Ferengi did I hear more horseshit than her reasoning for splaying the figure all over the place and subsequent explanation. She may as well have grown wings. If I were a different type of person, I would have caused much damage. Instead? I quieted down and just sat on all the information, much like what I have been doing since last year. The short moment came and went and was simply filed away like everything else. The worst part? The same individual was on the screen yesterday as the one in the magazine. And I had thought the other one would end up a larger issue for me. Nope. Hmm... Maybe it was more than a tidbit. Hopefully I can keep it under my hat for the foreseeable future or someone is going to hear it in a very bad way. If I recall correctly, the periodical she purchased on a whim in the city was twenty dollars. Yep... Tell me the reason for needing that magazine, and then tell me again. I'll fill your mouth with cement and then strike up the band off the side of your head. I see everything. I know, too. I could fucking strangle her right now but I must cool and continue. So... Basically, do not try to snow me with anything, especially something over which I am very sensitive and/or find threatening. And yes, I know how this may sound after six years of uninterrupted imagery down the pages. Just don't try it because I know everything before it takes place. I can anticipate unlike anyone else and will slowly bury the problem (person). I have become too intelligent for my own good. Stupid at the same time, but intelligent in ways which help me see what others need to hide. Say it straight out so I can disappear the issue. Saturday. Home all day aside from a trip to take care of some business and visit the hardware. I have a hell of a mess in the kitchen after some Passover snacks yesterday during the show, too. Oy, it's thrashed. But I'll pour myself a calming agent and fly through everything like a champ, with my surrogate family in the background like always. Probably the fourth show again. I shipped off the items yesterday which sold and have one more ending on Monday. I'll have to list perhaps two more today or tomorrow. The usual stuff today, some relaxing, and then into the evening when hopefully I'll be able to taste my fucking dinner, unlike last night. I'll probably get some prep finished for the garbage tomorrow, too. Ugh. This is irritating me to no end. I can't stand it when someone tries to get over on me when I suspect foul play, but it is worse lately, for some reason. Maybe that flashback to a decade ago caused me to puff up over the whole idea of trying to protect myself from the bullshit coming from other people. I don't know for sure. But yesterday was not at such a level, only in my memory. 'Everybody's tryin' to con-vict me; we're takin' Benzedrine and L-SD; but that's all ancient his-tory, and it's just between God and me'. Katie is all sing-songy this morning. There is little to nothing I can do in reacting to people and their words. Attacking them will solve nothing and I believe it is unfair. God knows I've spouted plenty, and even during those situations in which I held back or otherwise candy-coated what was going on inside, I still had to contend with the striking mirror image and the same from others. One example was a trip a while back. We headed south to shop and try to find lunch down in the deepest, darkest, along with visiting one or more of the big stores. The big mall was fairly empty, as was the parking garage. In fact, we ended up eating lunch in my car due to the unavailability of seating. The restrictions were high. Lunch has been in my car twice in recent months, in fact, yet the latest occasion included the sighting of a woman not far from our position. I will now admit that what I felt versus what I expressed were in reality radically different. I did not wish to cause difficulty. Well, I am in the very same position right now as I sit here with my coffee. I know what took place. I know it, I know who that person is and the fact that I've dealt with very much in the past because of the same, yet still I cannot be fair. The mall incident is a shining example of my expecting something from others but switching my own guard on and requiring nothing of the same from them. In short, I am completely unfair because it is me. That is all. There are no other words to describe what has taken place on so many occasions. That is how fragile I have become, and though I have worked on an obsessive problem for many years now, I simply cannot entertain anything from the mouth of another person. Just a few things have come to pass in over a year (the worst being further back, honestly), and during that same elapsed time I have calmed myself and restricted my behavior for the benefit of those very same fucking people. I have done my best, but still... Too broken up and frightened. Especially since the outset of this new, fucked-up year. Worse. Moreover, that fucking heritage inquiry, my past haunting me with regard to children and family, and then the knowledge that nothing good will ever happen again in my lifetime have combine to force the heaviest, thickest fucking front I have ever attempted to create. Too fragile. The tiniest remark from any direction now causes me to withdraw, and then due to being near another person I have to hold it together or suffer the consequences. No one has a fucking clue of the storm inside me because I am the certified champion of the fucking snowstorm. After years of people walking across my worries, I am fucking tired. Exhausted. Mark my words right now on this foggy Saturday morning, I will only deal with this for so long before becoming fed up. I will then eliminate the problems. Yes, eliminate. Read into that what you will, I don't care. The realization that there will be no understanding in the near or far future means I have little reason to try at all. Hopefully I don't soon turn into the worst person in the world when interacting with others. But look at this... All of the fucking ultimatums and threats, those words indicating I am heading into the forest, and then the finality of some closing thoughts do not add up to much if I don't follow through. I am still trying to leave it all alone for the benefit of other people, though. I just cannot muster the will to be unkind. Well, not yet, anyway. If pushed enough I will lash badly. The point is I keep saying that I will change my behavior toward people but rarely have I really done anything different. This is not an easy task after a lifetime of being a genuinely nice person. Not easy at all. Like I said, no one has pushed. Maybe I just keep trying in case nothing ever pushes me over the edge. The edge of everything, to be sure. But I have to do something, and generally this time of morning is when I get the idea to force the issues. Today is no different. I feel the need to grab the reins and steer everything around me into whatever direction brings me some semblance of satisfaction. I doubt anything dramatic will actually come to pass, though, because someone else will derail my thinking process, and by extension whatever I am trying to accomplish. It happens all too often. This morning I am still sipping coffee just after nine which means the crap disturbing meter is in the fucking red. The VU of my existence. Needle to the right, to use the parlance of my beloved seventies. Heh. I need to put this shit on pause so I can move around the house and plan some auction listings. Another two hours to myself before heading out the door for errands, so by that point I will have the usual crap finished and try to work outside the typical scope of the days. 4-4. Easter Sunday. Another night with me missing the flavor of dinner. We went to some effort for the meal, too. Between that and the other shit, I am convinced that my past is governing the hand. Maybe both of them. I never thought I could be so uncomfortable, full of turmoil and torment this late in life. Yesterday turned into a good day for the chores around this house, a couple of errands out and about, and then home again to complete the model and polish off the kitchen. Overall not bad, yet underneath it all is that nagging feeling of being incomplete and unhappy. The little enjoyments are still there, yet the dinner hour seems to be waning significantly. I will have to be mindful of my reactions, however, lest I cause more problems. The underlying shit which has been effectively shoved to the rear this week continues to pull. I can do nothing about it any longer. Annabeth from two and a half decades back. But oy the other actor. This will not be on the television for much longer. My shows are not on the BBC during weekends so I have to be creative. The film up there now is decent, although the competition at the time was maligned for bad reasons and ended up being the higher-rated, more successful story. Eh... His head was too big for the lens hood, I suppose. That was the beginning of the end for me and my ambition to always see certain films play out in the theatre rather than waiting to watch at home. In fact, the last was just a few years later and I made the mistake of waiting until the bitter end after it had ran its course in most locations. We ended up taking the train to the city and watching in a bit of a flea bag movie house full of sleeping homeless people. In the end I learned the lesson of making the experience more of a priority, plus the picture and sound were excellent, as was the popcorn. Heh. Back then I was driven to be in the theatre to recapture the Midwest magic as much as possible. I don't feel that way any longer. Too much has changed and that shine has dulled for all time. The entire industry is now very generic for lack of a better term, and so different from what I dreamed of during the nineties that I barely recognize anything. Seeing Annabeth brought all this up, too. One little moment of watching her open the door to a house and I was transported back to ninety-four in the big theatre. I used to love her like crazy. Now she is just a person. I suppose I became pretty fragile when the idea of watching a film for the first time came along here and there throughout many years. Overly sensitive, perhaps, as if others needed to see exactly what I was seeing and in the same manner. The truth is everyone feels differently about movies and the manner in which they are sent across a room. For me to push other people into a very small space and expect them to conform to my ideals -- particularly when watching something I feel strongly about -- is not a good thing and sometimes pushed them away instead. Well, I've been receiving some very bad feelings lately and cannot help but believe that they are attached to all those years of being so tyrannical about everything. I feel the way I feel, and the entire idea of filmed entertainment ('motion pictures', really) still stirs me to the core, but I have been unfair due to the importance built up inside since the seventies. This is my problem.... Not that of anyone else. Just another fucking situation with which I am overly sensitive. Break the glass. This film was a big deal at the time, too. I recall picking up an issue of my favorite magazine at the time and seeing the producer and director on the cover. I was so nuts for film back then, too. Reading about the production, watching anything I could find on background information and shooting, and then to think of how powerful the draw was after that last summer here while I worked at the CB shop. The dishes on top of the canopy brought more inside information into my head than I had ever thought possible, so by the time we relocated to the Midwest my head was full of excitement whenever anything new took place in the theatre. The cover of that magazine made the hair on my arms stand up. Too bad the name at the top of the credits is now a fucking problem. Everything turns to shit. Later today I am going to help with the bathroom again. Prior to that I suppose some of my daily business and Sunday stuff, after which I will probably not be looking forward to dinner as much as I normally would. The idea of going through all that work and then being unable to taste the fruit of our efforts really puts a damper upon the day. One of the highlights of my weeks is going away. The remaining time of day needs to work out pretty damned well if I am going to keep my head up into each evening. Not fucking easy. Maybe I'll try to focus upon the other parts of my days which seem to still bring a smile or some satisfaction. I guess the only good thing is the fact that some of this shit has nothing to do with me turning into a thin piece of glass. Some problems have the most elusive solutions... The understanding had been injected in two ways many years ago. I do not believe it exists any longer because both those involved as well as the period were very special. Magical, even. The odd thing is the understanding came about at a time when I was lowest. I felt very bad about myself, as opposed to now. I had been a huge problem for those around me because I made everything difficult all of the time. As soon as my satisfaction in life plummeted, I took off like an idiot in search of something comfortable. Well, you know how all that went. Years of it. The point is I do not believe I can live without the understanding any longer. The alternative is my sitting like a lump of coal on the roadbed and responding very little to anything else in life aside from whatever holds my attention at the time. Just a few situations combined with very real dreams which came to pass may have ruined any possibility of me letting go and moving forward from here (wherever the fuck I am). And bringing this up to another person is not going to solve anything, and may in fact cause my situation to become even worse. Ears accomplish nothing anymore. Even the keyboard is waning. Perhaps no solutions exist. Obviously the situation has not yet driven me out of my mind because I am still sitting here trying. Nothing seems to alleviate the troubles, but I keep going despite everything pushing against my efforts. The more I consider those words and her innate ability to read me and do what she could to help, the more I see nothing similar on the horizon. It's as if I have spoken to brick walls. I fail to understand the whole thing. After being driven to desperation all those years ago and seemingly heading in a similar direction right now, the only conclusion is that I have behaved differently and not noticed due to my mindset changing over a long period of time. Well, whatever and however this has taken place, the end result is the same. Loss. I don't know what to do aside from sitting here day after day and writing until I have nothing left to say. There is Joanna again. I've mentioned her before while watching this more than three-hour film. She was so frickin' cute back then, too. I was smitten in the theatre in Michigan but not anymore. Now she is another actor on the screen, nothing more. So much has changed since then -- as well as the time in which the obsession flared badly and then retracted for whatever reason -- that I do not see anyone from those times in a similar light. The entire dream went to hell because I was afraid to make a massive change and upend my life to seek the industry and a place within. I was so fucking comfortable and set in my routine that the very idea of starting from square one and moving along an unknown path was simply too frightening. I did nothing, and now I regret it, although with the industry having shifted in so many ways throughout the years, I may have eventually become disillusioned enough to flee. I'll never know because of fear. Everything stems from fear. Maybe I would see the lead actor differently had I taken the plunge. Due to my inactions, I am relegated to living each day wondering. Splendid. Joanna is adorable regardless of all the other shit attached to that time. Not her fault. Mine. I probably would not have survived long, anyway. Too fucking fragile. That type of work requires all manner of strength in order to get anywhere. Maybe I had it years ago. I don't know. I may be about to cause myself more problems, too. The previous series came to a close and I chose another because it is even better, however there are going to be images therein which will be tough to see. The storms will come to my head and not leave for a while. I already see them on the horizon. Although, I do believe the greater good must be served. Yes, I said that. Like the mobsters, the sheer quality of every single aspect of such media must be appreciated, and that means the bad comes along with the good. Honestly, without the bad the show would be altered to the point of likely not being as lauded as it has come to be. There is detail and realism the likes of which exist nowhere else to such an extent. The trouble is going to cause me to be very uncomfortable at times, but I honestly believe it is necessary. Read that again... I already know I'll fall down but am willing to do it anyway. Unbelievable. Perhaps I was correct some weeks ago when I stated that I did this to myself. Time will tell, maybe. The time for work around the house is nearing. I'll be gone shortly after and then return in the early afternoon to continue. That will most likely help me today. The kitchen, my friends and family on both televisions, and probably a little something to drink sitting there on the counter. My tiny sphere of control in an otherwise out-of-control world. At least I have something to embrace in these late days. All the while everything will still be in there, spinning me into discomfort as it always does. I never should have gone into the ancestry research. Combined with the trial of realizing I have no line which can continue, the loss is too great to describe. Moreover, the day-to-day difficulties already inherent in my methods of living are pushing me down. 4-5. Switch. I used to be a part of something which helped me to feel important, useful, valid and current. Now? I feel left out and very disappointed in myself for yet another series of events I put into motion ten-plus years ago. I took myself out of the loop for a while and then the loop realized I was too unreliable and spit me out the opposite end of a wondrous career. I did it, and knowing full well of the risk. There are so many ways to put down my feelings over what took place that I cannot choose a direction. Now I am nothing more than a pile of disappointment. Switch back. Very early right now. I was awakened and could not fall back asleep, so here I sit. I really didn't need that little flash on the news about a tiny helicopter on Mars, either. Another straw on the pile. The pile is beginning to weigh me down a bit too much for concentration. I can still sit here with this shit, but everything else in daily life is becoming quite the arduous set of circumstances. I realized just yesterday that some of my dreams are too much for relaying to another person, and now this morning one quick story on the news sent my brain even further off kilter than I had thought possible this early in the fucking morning. The two is flaring, the triumvirate is expanding, and I am very close to losing my shit for all time. I don't need this right now. The only positive I am seeing since last night is the morning 'feeling', if that makes any sense. The idea that the clock moves along, the sun rises, and then at some point I feel very capable, almost as if I can own the entire day and come out the other side feeling good about everything. This will generally carry me on to lunch time, after which I begin to lose direction. The same situation over and over for many months now, meaning I need to do something about it, a change perhaps. But I don't know how to go about it. When I lose steam, it's very bad. There will come a point when the morning positivity begins to fade away and I start to wonder why I am doing anything at all. Little tasks come along here and there, but the larger issues just sit and await my ambition, most of which is now too far gone to recover easily. The odd part is no matter what goes on inside me to ruin each day, that morning outlook continues unimpeded. I know not from where it comes. Aside from the wonder born of such moments these days, however, I have little to go on anymore. Some aspects of life have a mind of their own. I hope I can make it through this morning. I suppose I'll keep the auctions going, look around for more keepsakes to wrap and store, and then perhaps begin a revamp of this crap. I don't like the way the site looks anymore so I'm planning to change it again. My daily stuff will not take long. All the while I have that other thing in my brain which will not let me be most of the time. Days pass and I lose track. I also lose reasons to do anything. Fractured and waning. The glass is thin, remember? Focusing upon the chores I mentioned will hopefully keep me up for a while. In one piece, too. 8:09am and I am alone for the bulk of the day. Lots of issues, damned few clues as to dealing with them. I am the same as a year ago, if not worse. Being reminded of the phrase in the theatre came to mind yesterday afternoon during the show and made me realize that watching the entire series is going to be a problem and will likely lend to an issue flaring quite often during the same. I can either look at it as a test or simply fall all over the place and implode. Testing myself these days generally leads to failure, however. All I can do is try. Ugh. I hate it. Thinking of upcoming problems is beginning to take over my morning, so I'm done here today. Fractured glass. Everything turns to shit? No... Everything has turned to shit. 270. She is inside." Copyright ©2002-2024 comainterrupted.com All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Created by Brandywine Engineering using Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 and .NET Framework 4.8 Questions? Comments? Anything? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the psychos in charge
Errant Glass Mature content No. 237 Published April 5th, 2021 8:17am pdt read ( words) Past entries "4-2. Going into the dream of yet another impossible situation may not have been a good idea. Now I am at a loss with regard to daily life. The giant excavator is partially built -- the largest set I've ever seen -- and will probably continue today in and around whatever else I need to do. Two items are on the mailbox and one more auction ends in three days. That one should fetch a good price. I'll need to get a couple more listings going today to maintain the trend. My daily routine, a bit of work in the garage, and perhaps more movement in the old office will round out the time. I keep thinking of a jab the other day which has provided vision into something I feared. This morning on the television? Reinforcement. Lovely. And mental pressure on top of everything. The imagery and bullshit throughout the past year have caused me to feel even more fragile than originally described here. Glass. I can do exactly nothing about it, too. Others have said the idea of releasing that old shit and moving forward is a good plan, but anyone reading here in the last five years already knows I do not subscribe to such a method. I cannot. The past made me what I am today and to ignore any of it would not be a good idea. I must remember from where I came, bad or good. There can be neither without the other, meaning I can see the difference at each step. Changing too much of me means I will no longer be 'me'. That is that. Maybe too fragile now. Blown glass. 4-3. Buckle up. Yikes was there a tidbit flash yesterday right as I least would have expected one. Right out of left field, too. Fucking bullshit, but honestly I don't believe the breakdown should have been so bad. It was a quick little moment that went right on by. And the timing was impeccable because I am writing about being overly sensitive these days, and this entry in particular. Many occasions have found me trying to learn of how I turned out this way, but I believe ceasing that sort of analysis is best now. I've learned very little and only became more upset and angry toward other people. I just have to live with it. Yesterday was a good example of me being fragile because the remainder of the day was spent with an image in my head. On top of that, and due to the figure in question, I was reminded of a situation more than a decade back before the transition from one temporary apartment to my old house in the valley. It was a bad situation after a trip to the city with our cameras in tow. A magazine which was pretty pricey for being a periodical. She picked it up and returned home hours later to peruse. After that I asked a few questions and received what may be the longest line of bullshit ever to come forth from a woman's maw. Not one bit was real and I knew it. Not even the episode with Riker trying to outwit a dopey Ferengi did I hear more horseshit than her reasoning for splaying the figure all over the place and subsequent explanation. She may as well have grown wings. If I were a different type of person, I would have caused much damage. Instead? I quieted down and just sat on all the information, much like what I have been doing since last year. The short moment came and went and was simply filed away like everything else. The worst part? The same individual was on the screen yesterday as the one in the magazine. And I had thought the other one would end up a larger issue for me. Nope. Hmm... Maybe it was more than a tidbit. Hopefully I can keep it under my hat for the foreseeable future or someone is going to hear it in a very bad way. If I recall correctly, the periodical she purchased on a whim in the city was twenty dollars. Yep... Tell me the reason for needing that magazine, and then tell me again. I'll fill your mouth with cement and then strike up the band off the side of your head. I see everything. I know, too. I could fucking strangle her right now but I must cool and continue. So... Basically, do not try to snow me with anything, especially something over which I am very sensitive and/or find threatening. And yes, I know how this may sound after six years of uninterrupted imagery down the pages. Just don't try it because I know everything before it takes place. I can anticipate unlike anyone else and will slowly bury the problem (person). I have become too intelligent for my own good. Stupid at the same time, but intelligent in ways which help me see what others need to hide. Say it straight out so I can disappear the issue. Saturday. Home all day aside from a trip to take care of some business and visit the hardware. I have a hell of a mess in the kitchen after some Passover snacks yesterday during the show, too. Oy, it's thrashed. But I'll pour myself a calming agent and fly through everything like a champ, with my surrogate family in the background like always. Probably the fourth show again. I shipped off the items yesterday which sold and have one more ending on Monday. I'll have to list perhaps two more today or tomorrow. The usual stuff today, some relaxing, and then into the evening when hopefully I'll be able to taste my fucking dinner, unlike last night. I'll probably get some prep finished for the garbage tomorrow, too. Ugh. This is irritating me to no end. I can't stand it when someone tries to get over on me when I suspect foul play, but it is worse lately, for some reason. Maybe that flashback to a decade ago caused me to puff up over the whole idea of trying to protect myself from the bullshit coming from other people. I don't know for sure. But yesterday was not at such a level, only in my memory. 'Everybody's tryin' to con-vict me; we're takin' Benzedrine and L-SD; but that's all ancient his-tory, and it's just between God and me'. Katie is all sing-songy this morning. There is little to nothing I can do in reacting to people and their words. Attacking them will solve nothing and I believe it is unfair. God knows I've spouted plenty, and even during those situations in which I held back or otherwise candy-coated what was going on inside, I still had to contend with the striking mirror image and the same from others. One example was a trip a while back. We headed south to shop and try to find lunch down in the deepest, darkest, along with visiting one or more of the big stores. The big mall was fairly empty, as was the parking garage. In fact, we ended up eating lunch in my car due to the unavailability of seating. The restrictions were high. Lunch has been in my car twice in recent months, in fact, yet the latest occasion included the sighting of a woman not far from our position. I will now admit that what I felt versus what I expressed were in reality radically different. I did not wish to cause difficulty. Well, I am in the very same position right now as I sit here with my coffee. I know what took place. I know it, I know who that person is and the fact that I've dealt with very much in the past because of the same, yet still I cannot be fair. The mall incident is a shining example of my expecting something from others but switching my own guard on and requiring nothing of the same from them. In short, I am completely unfair because it is me. That is all. There are no other words to describe what has taken place on so many occasions. That is how fragile I have become, and though I have worked on an obsessive problem for many years now, I simply cannot entertain anything from the mouth of another person. Just a few things have come to pass in over a year (the worst being further back, honestly), and during that same elapsed time I have calmed myself and restricted my behavior for the benefit of those very same fucking people. I have done my best, but still... Too broken up and frightened. Especially since the outset of this new, fucked-up year. Worse. Moreover, that fucking heritage inquiry, my past haunting me with regard to children and family, and then the knowledge that nothing good will ever happen again in my lifetime have combine to force the heaviest, thickest fucking front I have ever attempted to create. Too fragile. The tiniest remark from any direction now causes me to withdraw, and then due to being near another person I have to hold it together or suffer the consequences. No one has a fucking clue of the storm inside me because I am the certified champion of the fucking snowstorm. After years of people walking across my worries, I am fucking tired. Exhausted. Mark my words right now on this foggy Saturday morning, I will only deal with this for so long before becoming fed up. I will then eliminate the problems. Yes, eliminate. Read into that what you will, I don't care. The realization that there will be no understanding in the near or far future means I have little reason to try at all. Hopefully I don't soon turn into the worst person in the world when interacting with others. But look at this... All of the fucking ultimatums and threats, those words indicating I am heading into the forest, and then the finality of some closing thoughts do not add up to much if I don't follow through. I am still trying to leave it all alone for the benefit of other people, though. I just cannot muster the will to be unkind. Well, not yet, anyway. If pushed enough I will lash badly. The point is I keep saying that I will change my behavior toward people but rarely have I really done anything different. This is not an easy task after a lifetime of being a genuinely nice person. Not easy at all. Like I said, no one has pushed. Maybe I just keep trying in case nothing ever pushes me over the edge. The edge of everything, to be sure. But I have to do something, and generally this time of morning is when I get the idea to force the issues. Today is no different. I feel the need to grab the reins and steer everything around me into whatever direction brings me some semblance of satisfaction. I doubt anything dramatic will actually come to pass, though, because someone else will derail my thinking process, and by extension whatever I am trying to accomplish. It happens all too often. This morning I am still sipping coffee just after nine which means the crap disturbing meter is in the fucking red. The VU of my existence. Needle to the right, to use the parlance of my beloved seventies. Heh. I need to put this shit on pause so I can move around the house and plan some auction listings. Another two hours to myself before heading out the door for errands, so by that point I will have the usual crap finished and try to work outside the typical scope of the days. 4-4. Easter Sunday. Another night with me missing the flavor of dinner. We went to some effort for the meal, too. Between that and the other shit, I am convinced that my past is governing the hand. Maybe both of them. I never thought I could be so uncomfortable, full of turmoil and torment this late in life. Yesterday turned into a good day for the chores around this house, a couple of errands out and about, and then home again to complete the model and polish off the kitchen. Overall not bad, yet underneath it all is that nagging feeling of being incomplete and unhappy. The little enjoyments are still there, yet the dinner hour seems to be waning significantly. I will have to be mindful of my reactions, however, lest I cause more problems. The underlying shit which has been effectively shoved to the rear this week continues to pull. I can do nothing about it any longer. Annabeth from two and a half decades back. But oy the other actor. This will not be on the television for much longer. My shows are not on the BBC during weekends so I have to be creative. The film up there now is decent, although the competition at the time was maligned for bad reasons and ended up being the higher-rated, more successful story. Eh... His head was too big for the lens hood, I suppose. That was the beginning of the end for me and my ambition to always see certain films play out in the theatre rather than waiting to watch at home. In fact, the last was just a few years later and I made the mistake of waiting until the bitter end after it had ran its course in most locations. We ended up taking the train to the city and watching in a bit of a flea bag movie house full of sleeping homeless people. In the end I learned the lesson of making the experience more of a priority, plus the picture and sound were excellent, as was the popcorn. Heh. Back then I was driven to be in the theatre to recapture the Midwest magic as much as possible. I don't feel that way any longer. Too much has changed and that shine has dulled for all time. The entire industry is now very generic for lack of a better term, and so different from what I dreamed of during the nineties that I barely recognize anything. Seeing Annabeth brought all this up, too. One little moment of watching her open the door to a house and I was transported back to ninety-four in the big theatre. I used to love her like crazy. Now she is just a person. I suppose I became pretty fragile when the idea of watching a film for the first time came along here and there throughout many years. Overly sensitive, perhaps, as if others needed to see exactly what I was seeing and in the same manner. The truth is everyone feels differently about movies and the manner in which they are sent across a room. For me to push other people into a very small space and expect them to conform to my ideals -- particularly when watching something I feel strongly about -- is not a good thing and sometimes pushed them away instead. Well, I've been receiving some very bad feelings lately and cannot help but believe that they are attached to all those years of being so tyrannical about everything. I feel the way I feel, and the entire idea of filmed entertainment ('motion pictures', really) still stirs me to the core, but I have been unfair due to the importance built up inside since the seventies. This is my problem.... Not that of anyone else. Just another fucking situation with which I am overly sensitive. Break the glass. This film was a big deal at the time, too. I recall picking up an issue of my favorite magazine at the time and seeing the producer and director on the cover. I was so nuts for film back then, too. Reading about the production, watching anything I could find on background information and shooting, and then to think of how powerful the draw was after that last summer here while I worked at the CB shop. The dishes on top of the canopy brought more inside information into my head than I had ever thought possible, so by the time we relocated to the Midwest my head was full of excitement whenever anything new took place in the theatre. The cover of that magazine made the hair on my arms stand up. Too bad the name at the top of the credits is now a fucking problem. Everything turns to shit. Later today I am going to help with the bathroom again. Prior to that I suppose some of my daily business and Sunday stuff, after which I will probably not be looking forward to dinner as much as I normally would. The idea of going through all that work and then being unable to taste the fruit of our efforts really puts a damper upon the day. One of the highlights of my weeks is going away. The remaining time of day needs to work out pretty damned well if I am going to keep my head up into each evening. Not fucking easy. Maybe I'll try to focus upon the other parts of my days which seem to still bring a smile or some satisfaction. I guess the only good thing is the fact that some of this shit has nothing to do with me turning into a thin piece of glass. Some problems have the most elusive solutions... The understanding had been injected in two ways many years ago. I do not believe it exists any longer because both those involved as well as the period were very special. Magical, even. The odd thing is the understanding came about at a time when I was lowest. I felt very bad about myself, as opposed to now. I had been a huge problem for those around me because I made everything difficult all of the time. As soon as my satisfaction in life plummeted, I took off like an idiot in search of something comfortable. Well, you know how all that went. Years of it. The point is I do not believe I can live without the understanding any longer. The alternative is my sitting like a lump of coal on the roadbed and responding very little to anything else in life aside from whatever holds my attention at the time. Just a few situations combined with very real dreams which came to pass may have ruined any possibility of me letting go and moving forward from here (wherever the fuck I am). And bringing this up to another person is not going to solve anything, and may in fact cause my situation to become even worse. Ears accomplish nothing anymore. Even the keyboard is waning. Perhaps no solutions exist. Obviously the situation has not yet driven me out of my mind because I am still sitting here trying. Nothing seems to alleviate the troubles, but I keep going despite everything pushing against my efforts. The more I consider those words and her innate ability to read me and do what she could to help, the more I see nothing similar on the horizon. It's as if I have spoken to brick walls. I fail to understand the whole thing. After being driven to desperation all those years ago and seemingly heading in a similar direction right now, the only conclusion is that I have behaved differently and not noticed due to my mindset changing over a long period of time. Well, whatever and however this has taken place, the end result is the same. Loss. I don't know what to do aside from sitting here day after day and writing until I have nothing left to say. There is Joanna again. I've mentioned her before while watching this more than three-hour film. She was so frickin' cute back then, too. I was smitten in the theatre in Michigan but not anymore. Now she is another actor on the screen, nothing more. So much has changed since then -- as well as the time in which the obsession flared badly and then retracted for whatever reason -- that I do not see anyone from those times in a similar light. The entire dream went to hell because I was afraid to make a massive change and upend my life to seek the industry and a place within. I was so fucking comfortable and set in my routine that the very idea of starting from square one and moving along an unknown path was simply too frightening. I did nothing, and now I regret it, although with the industry having shifted in so many ways throughout the years, I may have eventually become disillusioned enough to flee. I'll never know because of fear. Everything stems from fear. Maybe I would see the lead actor differently had I taken the plunge. Due to my inactions, I am relegated to living each day wondering. Splendid. Joanna is adorable regardless of all the other shit attached to that time. Not her fault. Mine. I probably would not have survived long, anyway. Too fucking fragile. That type of work requires all manner of strength in order to get anywhere. Maybe I had it years ago. I don't know. I may be about to cause myself more problems, too. The previous series came to a close and I chose another because it is even better, however there are going to be images therein which will be tough to see. The storms will come to my head and not leave for a while. I already see them on the horizon. Although, I do believe the greater good must be served. Yes, I said that. Like the mobsters, the sheer quality of every single aspect of such media must be appreciated, and that means the bad comes along with the good. Honestly, without the bad the show would be altered to the point of likely not being as lauded as it has come to be. There is detail and realism the likes of which exist nowhere else to such an extent. The trouble is going to cause me to be very uncomfortable at times, but I honestly believe it is necessary. Read that again... I already know I'll fall down but am willing to do it anyway. Unbelievable. Perhaps I was correct some weeks ago when I stated that I did this to myself. Time will tell, maybe. The time for work around the house is nearing. I'll be gone shortly after and then return in the early afternoon to continue. That will most likely help me today. The kitchen, my friends and family on both televisions, and probably a little something to drink sitting there on the counter. My tiny sphere of control in an otherwise out-of-control world. At least I have something to embrace in these late days. All the while everything will still be in there, spinning me into discomfort as it always does. I never should have gone into the ancestry research. Combined with the trial of realizing I have no line which can continue, the loss is too great to describe. Moreover, the day-to-day difficulties already inherent in my methods of living are pushing me down. 4-5. Switch. I used to be a part of something which helped me to feel important, useful, valid and current. Now? I feel left out and very disappointed in myself for yet another series of events I put into motion ten-plus years ago. I took myself out of the loop for a while and then the loop realized I was too unreliable and spit me out the opposite end of a wondrous career. I did it, and knowing full well of the risk. There are so many ways to put down my feelings over what took place that I cannot choose a direction. Now I am nothing more than a pile of disappointment. Switch back. Very early right now. I was awakened and could not fall back asleep, so here I sit. I really didn't need that little flash on the news about a tiny helicopter on Mars, either. Another straw on the pile. The pile is beginning to weigh me down a bit too much for concentration. I can still sit here with this shit, but everything else in daily life is becoming quite the arduous set of circumstances. I realized just yesterday that some of my dreams are too much for relaying to another person, and now this morning one quick story on the news sent my brain even further off kilter than I had thought possible this early in the fucking morning. The two is flaring, the triumvirate is expanding, and I am very close to losing my shit for all time. I don't need this right now. The only positive I am seeing since last night is the morning 'feeling', if that makes any sense. The idea that the clock moves along, the sun rises, and then at some point I feel very capable, almost as if I can own the entire day and come out the other side feeling good about everything. This will generally carry me on to lunch time, after which I begin to lose direction. The same situation over and over for many months now, meaning I need to do something about it, a change perhaps. But I don't know how to go about it. When I lose steam, it's very bad. There will come a point when the morning positivity begins to fade away and I start to wonder why I am doing anything at all. Little tasks come along here and there, but the larger issues just sit and await my ambition, most of which is now too far gone to recover easily. The odd part is no matter what goes on inside me to ruin each day, that morning outlook continues unimpeded. I know not from where it comes. Aside from the wonder born of such moments these days, however, I have little to go on anymore. Some aspects of life have a mind of their own. I hope I can make it through this morning. I suppose I'll keep the auctions going, look around for more keepsakes to wrap and store, and then perhaps begin a revamp of this crap. I don't like the way the site looks anymore so I'm planning to change it again. My daily stuff will not take long. All the while I have that other thing in my brain which will not let me be most of the time. Days pass and I lose track. I also lose reasons to do anything. Fractured and waning. The glass is thin, remember? Focusing upon the chores I mentioned will hopefully keep me up for a while. In one piece, too. 8:09am and I am alone for the bulk of the day. Lots of issues, damned few clues as to dealing with them. I am the same as a year ago, if not worse. Being reminded of the phrase in the theatre came to mind yesterday afternoon during the show and made me realize that watching the entire series is going to be a problem and will likely lend to an issue flaring quite often during the same. I can either look at it as a test or simply fall all over the place and implode. Testing myself these days generally leads to failure, however. All I can do is try. Ugh. I hate it. Thinking of upcoming problems is beginning to take over my morning, so I'm done here today. Fractured glass. Everything turns to shit? No... Everything has turned to shit. 270. She is inside."
Errant Glass
Mature content No. 237 Published April 5th, 2021 8:17am pdt read ( words) Past entries
"4-2. Going into the dream of yet another impossible situation may not have been a good idea. Now I am at a loss with regard to daily life. The giant excavator is partially built -- the largest set I've ever seen -- and will probably continue today in and around whatever else I need to do. Two items are on the mailbox and one more auction ends in three days. That one should fetch a good price. I'll need to get a couple more listings going today to maintain the trend. My daily routine, a bit of work in the garage, and perhaps more movement in the old office will round out the time. I keep thinking of a jab the other day which has provided vision into something I feared. This morning on the television? Reinforcement. Lovely. And mental pressure on top of everything. The imagery and bullshit throughout the past year have caused me to feel even more fragile than originally described here. Glass. I can do exactly nothing about it, too. Others have said the idea of releasing that old shit and moving forward is a good plan, but anyone reading here in the last five years already knows I do not subscribe to such a method. I cannot. The past made me what I am today and to ignore any of it would not be a good idea. I must remember from where I came, bad or good. There can be neither without the other, meaning I can see the difference at each step. Changing too much of me means I will no longer be 'me'. That is that. Maybe too fragile now. Blown glass. 4-3. Buckle up. Yikes was there a tidbit flash yesterday right as I least would have expected one. Right out of left field, too. Fucking bullshit, but honestly I don't believe the breakdown should have been so bad. It was a quick little moment that went right on by. And the timing was impeccable because I am writing about being overly sensitive these days, and this entry in particular. Many occasions have found me trying to learn of how I turned out this way, but I believe ceasing that sort of analysis is best now. I've learned very little and only became more upset and angry toward other people. I just have to live with it. Yesterday was a good example of me being fragile because the remainder of the day was spent with an image in my head. On top of that, and due to the figure in question, I was reminded of a situation more than a decade back before the transition from one temporary apartment to my old house in the valley. It was a bad situation after a trip to the city with our cameras in tow. A magazine which was pretty pricey for being a periodical. She picked it up and returned home hours later to peruse. After that I asked a few questions and received what may be the longest line of bullshit ever to come forth from a woman's maw. Not one bit was real and I knew it. Not even the episode with Riker trying to outwit a dopey Ferengi did I hear more horseshit than her reasoning for splaying the figure all over the place and subsequent explanation. She may as well have grown wings. If I were a different type of person, I would have caused much damage. Instead? I quieted down and just sat on all the information, much like what I have been doing since last year. The short moment came and went and was simply filed away like everything else. The worst part? The same individual was on the screen yesterday as the one in the magazine. And I had thought the other one would end up a larger issue for me. Nope. Hmm... Maybe it was more than a tidbit. Hopefully I can keep it under my hat for the foreseeable future or someone is going to hear it in a very bad way. If I recall correctly, the periodical she purchased on a whim in the city was twenty dollars. Yep... Tell me the reason for needing that magazine, and then tell me again. I'll fill your mouth with cement and then strike up the band off the side of your head. I see everything. I know, too. I could fucking strangle her right now but I must cool and continue. So... Basically, do not try to snow me with anything, especially something over which I am very sensitive and/or find threatening. And yes, I know how this may sound after six years of uninterrupted imagery down the pages. Just don't try it because I know everything before it takes place. I can anticipate unlike anyone else and will slowly bury the problem (person). I have become too intelligent for my own good. Stupid at the same time, but intelligent in ways which help me see what others need to hide. Say it straight out so I can disappear the issue.
Saturday. Home all day aside from a trip to take care of some business and visit the hardware. I have a hell of a mess in the kitchen after some Passover snacks yesterday during the show, too. Oy, it's thrashed. But I'll pour myself a calming agent and fly through everything like a champ, with my surrogate family in the background like always. Probably the fourth show again. I shipped off the items yesterday which sold and have one more ending on Monday. I'll have to list perhaps two more today or tomorrow. The usual stuff today, some relaxing, and then into the evening when hopefully I'll be able to taste my fucking dinner, unlike last night. I'll probably get some prep finished for the garbage tomorrow, too. Ugh. This is irritating me to no end. I can't stand it when someone tries to get over on me when I suspect foul play, but it is worse lately, for some reason. Maybe that flashback to a decade ago caused me to puff up over the whole idea of trying to protect myself from the bullshit coming from other people. I don't know for sure. But yesterday was not at such a level, only in my memory. 'Everybody's tryin' to con-vict me; we're takin' Benzedrine and L-SD; but that's all ancient his-tory, and it's just between God and me'. Katie is all sing-songy this morning. There is little to nothing I can do in reacting to people and their words. Attacking them will solve nothing and I believe it is unfair. God knows I've spouted plenty, and even during those situations in which I held back or otherwise candy-coated what was going on inside, I still had to contend with the striking mirror image and the same from others. One example was a trip a while back. We headed south to shop and try to find lunch down in the deepest, darkest, along with visiting one or more of the big stores. The big mall was fairly empty, as was the parking garage. In fact, we ended up eating lunch in my car due to the unavailability of seating. The restrictions were high. Lunch has been in my car twice in recent months, in fact, yet the latest occasion included the sighting of a woman not far from our position. I will now admit that what I felt versus what I expressed were in reality radically different. I did not wish to cause difficulty. Well, I am in the very same position right now as I sit here with my coffee. I know what took place. I know it, I know who that person is and the fact that I've dealt with very much in the past because of the same, yet still I cannot be fair. The mall incident is a shining example of my expecting something from others but switching my own guard on and requiring nothing of the same from them. In short, I am completely unfair because it is me. That is all. There are no other words to describe what has taken place on so many occasions. That is how fragile I have become, and though I have worked on an obsessive problem for many years now, I simply cannot entertain anything from the mouth of another person. Just a few things have come to pass in over a year (the worst being further back, honestly), and during that same elapsed time I have calmed myself and restricted my behavior for the benefit of those very same fucking people. I have done my best, but still... Too broken up and frightened. Especially since the outset of this new, fucked-up year. Worse. Moreover, that fucking heritage inquiry, my past haunting me with regard to children and family, and then the knowledge that nothing good will ever happen again in my lifetime have combine to force the heaviest, thickest fucking front I have ever attempted to create. Too fragile. The tiniest remark from any direction now causes me to withdraw, and then due to being near another person I have to hold it together or suffer the consequences. No one has a fucking clue of the storm inside me because I am the certified champion of the fucking snowstorm. After years of people walking across my worries, I am fucking tired. Exhausted. Mark my words right now on this foggy Saturday morning, I will only deal with this for so long before becoming fed up. I will then eliminate the problems. Yes, eliminate. Read into that what you will, I don't care. The realization that there will be no understanding in the near or far future means I have little reason to try at all. Hopefully I don't soon turn into the worst person in the world when interacting with others. But look at this... All of the fucking ultimatums and threats, those words indicating I am heading into the forest, and then the finality of some closing thoughts do not add up to much if I don't follow through. I am still trying to leave it all alone for the benefit of other people, though. I just cannot muster the will to be unkind. Well, not yet, anyway. If pushed enough I will lash badly. The point is I keep saying that I will change my behavior toward people but rarely have I really done anything different. This is not an easy task after a lifetime of being a genuinely nice person. Not easy at all. Like I said, no one has pushed. Maybe I just keep trying in case nothing ever pushes me over the edge. The edge of everything, to be sure.
But I have to do something, and generally this time of morning is when I get the idea to force the issues. Today is no different. I feel the need to grab the reins and steer everything around me into whatever direction brings me some semblance of satisfaction. I doubt anything dramatic will actually come to pass, though, because someone else will derail my thinking process, and by extension whatever I am trying to accomplish. It happens all too often. This morning I am still sipping coffee just after nine which means the crap disturbing meter is in the fucking red. The VU of my existence. Needle to the right, to use the parlance of my beloved seventies. Heh. I need to put this shit on pause so I can move around the house and plan some auction listings. Another two hours to myself before heading out the door for errands, so by that point I will have the usual crap finished and try to work outside the typical scope of the days. 4-4. Easter Sunday. Another night with me missing the flavor of dinner. We went to some effort for the meal, too. Between that and the other shit, I am convinced that my past is governing the hand. Maybe both of them. I never thought I could be so uncomfortable, full of turmoil and torment this late in life. Yesterday turned into a good day for the chores around this house, a couple of errands out and about, and then home again to complete the model and polish off the kitchen. Overall not bad, yet underneath it all is that nagging feeling of being incomplete and unhappy. The little enjoyments are still there, yet the dinner hour seems to be waning significantly. I will have to be mindful of my reactions, however, lest I cause more problems. The underlying shit which has been effectively shoved to the rear this week continues to pull. I can do nothing about it any longer. Annabeth from two and a half decades back. But oy the other actor. This will not be on the television for much longer. My shows are not on the BBC during weekends so I have to be creative. The film up there now is decent, although the competition at the time was maligned for bad reasons and ended up being the higher-rated, more successful story. Eh... His head was too big for the lens hood, I suppose. That was the beginning of the end for me and my ambition to always see certain films play out in the theatre rather than waiting to watch at home. In fact, the last was just a few years later and I made the mistake of waiting until the bitter end after it had ran its course in most locations. We ended up taking the train to the city and watching in a bit of a flea bag movie house full of sleeping homeless people. In the end I learned the lesson of making the experience more of a priority, plus the picture and sound were excellent, as was the popcorn. Heh. Back then I was driven to be in the theatre to recapture the Midwest magic as much as possible. I don't feel that way any longer. Too much has changed and that shine has dulled for all time. The entire industry is now very generic for lack of a better term, and so different from what I dreamed of during the nineties that I barely recognize anything. Seeing Annabeth brought all this up, too. One little moment of watching her open the door to a house and I was transported back to ninety-four in the big theatre. I used to love her like crazy. Now she is just a person. I suppose I became pretty fragile when the idea of watching a film for the first time came along here and there throughout many years. Overly sensitive, perhaps, as if others needed to see exactly what I was seeing and in the same manner. The truth is everyone feels differently about movies and the manner in which they are sent across a room. For me to push other people into a very small space and expect them to conform to my ideals -- particularly when watching something I feel strongly about -- is not a good thing and sometimes pushed them away instead. Well, I've been receiving some very bad feelings lately and cannot help but believe that they are attached to all those years of being so tyrannical about everything. I feel the way I feel, and the entire idea of filmed entertainment ('motion pictures', really) still stirs me to the core, but I have been unfair due to the importance built up inside since the seventies. This is my problem.... Not that of anyone else. Just another fucking situation with which I am overly sensitive. Break the glass. This film was a big deal at the time, too. I recall picking up an issue of my favorite magazine at the time and seeing the producer and director on the cover. I was so nuts for film back then, too. Reading about the production, watching anything I could find on background information and shooting, and then to think of how powerful the draw was after that last summer here while I worked at the CB shop. The dishes on top of the canopy brought more inside information into my head than I had ever thought possible, so by the time we relocated to the Midwest my head was full of excitement whenever anything new took place in the theatre. The cover of that magazine made the hair on my arms stand up. Too bad the name at the top of the credits is now a fucking problem. Everything turns to shit.
Later today I am going to help with the bathroom again. Prior to that I suppose some of my daily business and Sunday stuff, after which I will probably not be looking forward to dinner as much as I normally would. The idea of going through all that work and then being unable to taste the fruit of our efforts really puts a damper upon the day. One of the highlights of my weeks is going away. The remaining time of day needs to work out pretty damned well if I am going to keep my head up into each evening. Not fucking easy. Maybe I'll try to focus upon the other parts of my days which seem to still bring a smile or some satisfaction. I guess the only good thing is the fact that some of this shit has nothing to do with me turning into a thin piece of glass. Some problems have the most elusive solutions... The understanding had been injected in two ways many years ago. I do not believe it exists any longer because both those involved as well as the period were very special. Magical, even. The odd thing is the understanding came about at a time when I was lowest. I felt very bad about myself, as opposed to now. I had been a huge problem for those around me because I made everything difficult all of the time. As soon as my satisfaction in life plummeted, I took off like an idiot in search of something comfortable. Well, you know how all that went. Years of it. The point is I do not believe I can live without the understanding any longer. The alternative is my sitting like a lump of coal on the roadbed and responding very little to anything else in life aside from whatever holds my attention at the time. Just a few situations combined with very real dreams which came to pass may have ruined any possibility of me letting go and moving forward from here (wherever the fuck I am). And bringing this up to another person is not going to solve anything, and may in fact cause my situation to become even worse. Ears accomplish nothing anymore. Even the keyboard is waning. Perhaps no solutions exist. Obviously the situation has not yet driven me out of my mind because I am still sitting here trying. Nothing seems to alleviate the troubles, but I keep going despite everything pushing against my efforts. The more I consider those words and her innate ability to read me and do what she could to help, the more I see nothing similar on the horizon. It's as if I have spoken to brick walls. I fail to understand the whole thing. After being driven to desperation all those years ago and seemingly heading in a similar direction right now, the only conclusion is that I have behaved differently and not noticed due to my mindset changing over a long period of time. Well, whatever and however this has taken place, the end result is the same. Loss. I don't know what to do aside from sitting here day after day and writing until I have nothing left to say. There is Joanna again. I've mentioned her before while watching this more than three-hour film. She was so frickin' cute back then, too. I was smitten in the theatre in Michigan but not anymore. Now she is another actor on the screen, nothing more. So much has changed since then -- as well as the time in which the obsession flared badly and then retracted for whatever reason -- that I do not see anyone from those times in a similar light. The entire dream went to hell because I was afraid to make a massive change and upend my life to seek the industry and a place within. I was so fucking comfortable and set in my routine that the very idea of starting from square one and moving along an unknown path was simply too frightening. I did nothing, and now I regret it, although with the industry having shifted in so many ways throughout the years, I may have eventually become disillusioned enough to flee. I'll never know because of fear. Everything stems from fear. Maybe I would see the lead actor differently had I taken the plunge. Due to my inactions, I am relegated to living each day wondering. Splendid. Joanna is adorable regardless of all the other shit attached to that time. Not her fault. Mine. I probably would not have survived long, anyway. Too fucking fragile. That type of work requires all manner of strength in order to get anywhere. Maybe I had it years ago. I don't know. I may be about to cause myself more problems, too. The previous series came to a close and I chose another because it is even better, however there are going to be images therein which will be tough to see. The storms will come to my head and not leave for a while. I already see them on the horizon. Although, I do believe the greater good must be served. Yes, I said that. Like the mobsters, the sheer quality of every single aspect of such media must be appreciated, and that means the bad comes along with the good. Honestly, without the bad the show would be altered to the point of likely not being as lauded as it has come to be. There is detail and realism the likes of which exist nowhere else to such an extent. The trouble is going to cause me to be very uncomfortable at times, but I honestly believe it is necessary. Read that again... I already know I'll fall down but am willing to do it anyway. Unbelievable. Perhaps I was correct some weeks ago when I stated that I did this to myself. Time will tell, maybe.
The time for work around the house is nearing. I'll be gone shortly after and then return in the early afternoon to continue. That will most likely help me today. The kitchen, my friends and family on both televisions, and probably a little something to drink sitting there on the counter. My tiny sphere of control in an otherwise out-of-control world. At least I have something to embrace in these late days. All the while everything will still be in there, spinning me into discomfort as it always does. I never should have gone into the ancestry research. Combined with the trial of realizing I have no line which can continue, the loss is too great to describe. Moreover, the day-to-day difficulties already inherent in my methods of living are pushing me down. 4-5. Switch. I used to be a part of something which helped me to feel important, useful, valid and current. Now? I feel left out and very disappointed in myself for yet another series of events I put into motion ten-plus years ago. I took myself out of the loop for a while and then the loop realized I was too unreliable and spit me out the opposite end of a wondrous career. I did it, and knowing full well of the risk. There are so many ways to put down my feelings over what took place that I cannot choose a direction. Now I am nothing more than a pile of disappointment. Switch back. Very early right now. I was awakened and could not fall back asleep, so here I sit. I really didn't need that little flash on the news about a tiny helicopter on Mars, either. Another straw on the pile. The pile is beginning to weigh me down a bit too much for concentration. I can still sit here with this shit, but everything else in daily life is becoming quite the arduous set of circumstances. I realized just yesterday that some of my dreams are too much for relaying to another person, and now this morning one quick story on the news sent my brain even further off kilter than I had thought possible this early in the fucking morning. The two is flaring, the triumvirate is expanding, and I am very close to losing my shit for all time. I don't need this right now. The only positive I am seeing since last night is the morning 'feeling', if that makes any sense. The idea that the clock moves along, the sun rises, and then at some point I feel very capable, almost as if I can own the entire day and come out the other side feeling good about everything. This will generally carry me on to lunch time, after which I begin to lose direction. The same situation over and over for many months now, meaning I need to do something about it, a change perhaps. But I don't know how to go about it. When I lose steam, it's very bad. There will come a point when the morning positivity begins to fade away and I start to wonder why I am doing anything at all. Little tasks come along here and there, but the larger issues just sit and await my ambition, most of which is now too far gone to recover easily. The odd part is no matter what goes on inside me to ruin each day, that morning outlook continues unimpeded. I know not from where it comes. Aside from the wonder born of such moments these days, however, I have little to go on anymore. Some aspects of life have a mind of their own. I hope I can make it through this morning. I suppose I'll keep the auctions going, look around for more keepsakes to wrap and store, and then perhaps begin a revamp of this crap. I don't like the way the site looks anymore so I'm planning to change it again. My daily stuff will not take long. All the while I have that other thing in my brain which will not let me be most of the time. Days pass and I lose track. I also lose reasons to do anything. Fractured and waning. The glass is thin, remember? Focusing upon the chores I mentioned will hopefully keep me up for a while. In one piece, too. 8:09am and I am alone for the bulk of the day. Lots of issues, damned few clues as to dealing with them. I am the same as a year ago, if not worse. Being reminded of the phrase in the theatre came to mind yesterday afternoon during the show and made me realize that watching the entire series is going to be a problem and will likely lend to an issue flaring quite often during the same. I can either look at it as a test or simply fall all over the place and implode. Testing myself these days generally leads to failure, however. All I can do is try. Ugh. I hate it. Thinking of upcoming problems is beginning to take over my morning, so I'm done here today. Fractured glass. Everything turns to shit? No... Everything has turned to shit. 270. She is inside."
Copyright ©2002-2024 comainterrupted.com All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Created by Brandywine Engineering using Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 and .NET Framework 4.8 Questions? Comments? Anything? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the psychos in charge
legal
about
archive
home
