Netherworld Mature content No. 233 Published March 20th, 2021 9:45am pdt read ( words) Past entries "3-18. Dreaming, dreaming and more dreaming. Yesterday was decent, although daydreaming led me into dreams this morning which were not good. I was there... Back all those years. I felt it. Now? Gone again. Fleeting. I don't know what to do anymore. The motions, coffee, this, whatever... Losing grip. I never went above and beyond yesterday. Dropped the ball, left the game. I could not find the will nor the direction. Something happened and I don't know if I can get the motivation back. Whatever it is I've been doing all these months is apparently wrong. Dreaming in a netherworld of my own construction. The only thing worse is seeing Kasidy again. Ugh... She is so boring. 8:13am. Morning business is finished. The triumvirate is still weighing me down. All day long, usually. The rare occasion finds me balanced and not worried. I don't know what to think anymore. The fact of the discovery piled on top of all those concerns over the two and related bullshit is really pushing. Lately, the simplest of tasks has become nearly insurmountable. I just can't fucking have this right now, leaving my only option the idea of floating and dreaming within a world of my own craft. The future is narrow and dim. I guess I'll continue to sell things. The one watch I listed yesterday has been pulled due to a lack of any interest after a few hours. I have to be careful. If something valuable does not show serious commitment in a short period of time, I must remove the item for fear of shipping it out for a low price. I can't have that. I may be selling, but they still hold some value for myself. That means keep them. Pause. 10:16am. Routine finished. Now what? This is so very bad now. All of the crap I've been trying to deal with for the last several years is combined. Issues... More. I cannot get rid of anything. Even with the gangsters on both televisions and echoing through the entire house while I cleaned the kitchen, still my head descended. The slightest imagery or reference can set me off. Alone is good most of the time as my days are free, however much of the time I am seeking comfort of a type unrealized. I don't know how much longer I can do this. Back to the fear being outweighed by another. Will discussing everything help? Or will it send me down further, possibly never to rise again? Maybe I should avoid watching the last two seasons of this show. Jamie throws me off and dredges up three different women, one of which I never even new. Her name is close, though... The one I gave her. This is bad. I am seeing less and less good with each passing day. I cannot remain in the netherworld without reminders of reality creeping in and ruining my dreams. The years and situations which continue to drift into me are at odds with my current world. Too far in and I may never return. Not the aforementioned basement, either. I am speaking of losing the ability to relate... Completely. The scene is well-known to me. This series has gone from beginning to end many times and generally brings on a huge appreciation for every aspect of the production. It is amazing. Even the scene and shot in question is enjoyable and wondrous from an acting standpoint. Nearly unknown actors created characters more memorable and fascinating than I imagined prior to experiencing this years ago. The episode is unbelievably well-made. My brain is the only problem. One little reference during the shot brings all manner of difficulty, from my own physical problems to wondering how others feel about the dialog. It is commonplace these days, too. I cannot fight society any more than I can win against progress. Impossible, to the last. So, I see it over and over for years and have the same fucking trouble every time. Well, until recently. I am now much more sensitive to everything which others seem to take in stride. No solution. I just have to fucking sit on it like the rest. To be completely honest, I would not change one iota of this series given the chance. It would lose realism. Not reality, but realism. Reality on television is both a falsehood and oxymoron. Impossible. Me successfully coming to terms with the state of the world is equally so. Time for alcohol. Fuck it. Something of which I am unaware had to have taken place between the mid-zeros or so and now. I was not like this many years earlier. I was relaxed. Oh, there were issues with this or that, but for the most part I dealt with others differently and with an open mind. Now? I am completely closed off and unable to get through the slightest difficulty. This is not good. There must be an engram somewhere buried deep which has been disallowing me to relate or cope. Is everyone like this? To some degree? No answer. Back in time there had to have been a catalyst. All this writing for months and I am no better. More open (sort of), but no better. All of the activities in which I engage day after day have been chiefly built so I can be physically comfortable and possibly more mentally relaxed. Sometimes my ideas work, other times they do not. But I am still here, for whatever it may be worth. Tortured, tormented and frightened much of the time, but here nonetheless. I have no fucking idea of what has kept me out of the ground for the last ten years. Perhaps memories of being with those beautiful souls and wrapped in loving care and the sliver of a chance I can be there again. Dreamy, those trips, and sans attachment. Is that good? Or simply a selfish indulgence? My desires in life are those of a machine; detached, full of endeavors which disregard others, and a deep resolve in maintaining a mysterious existence. Switch for one sentence... I just killed the ancestry subscription and provided a reason with which -- believe me -- no one will wish to take issue. The likelihood of anything similar to those escapes is nil. I honestly cannot expect the same situations to arise beyond the simplicity of quality food, drinks and atmosphere. I am nine years older and no better for wear. Not even fucking close. This downed state has taken its toll on my physical health. The best I can hope for in the future is an all-expenses paid coupling full of bullshit. That is all. The food and booze cannot hold a candle to those with whom I shared the same, so heading into oblivion again does not seem a good idea. I will most likely come out the other side worse off than I am right now. The minuscule upside is the fact that whomever would be hanging on my arm all over the resorts would know nothing of me. Go ahead and laugh. Again, something of which I am completely unaware has ruined my ability to be near another person without falling through to the dark side of everything. It is swallowing me whole. Just go back a dozen entries and compare that crap with the current. This is bad. The taste of Guinness reminds me of more past life scenes than I can possibly describe. Just saying. Wow, my knees are really fucked up from years of working in construction. 4:03pm. Oy fuck damn does this show try to milk as much humor as possible during difficult situations. I will not go into specifics, however, because I cannot extend their efforts in trivializing something of dire importance to my survival. Suffice to say, the entire subject still hits me like a ton of bricks, whether 'humorous' or otherwise. I live with it due to a lack of choice. Society always wins. There is no way around it other than the plan from the early nineties for relocating very far from everyone. More bad. That plan is dead. I listed another auction for one of my knives and finally reworked the printer and ink for photos. Not bad for such a down day. The weather outside is as gloomy as my outlook. The money coming in from selling is a big positive, though. Options are always good, as is empty space left behind as possessions go out the door. I mentioned before that I tend to rid myself of large items and then purchase small. This is good. A little over an hour left to my alone time means I might take care of a few more tasks. I like the kitchen to be polished for dinner preparations, especially with me cooking much more than in the past. With the television hanging on the wall opposite the work space (visible in a large mirror), tooling around the kitchen is ten times more enjoyable than before I took on such a project. I've mentioned it a few times. That single change in the house is one of the best ideas I've had in a long time. Cooking is always fun, but with my shows up there keeping me company, the kitchen is now my favorite room. Moreover, the inside of this home is becoming another type of netherworld -- one outside the sphere of others. I have control here. 'Some of you know I've had nine pictures under my subspecies'. Jesus, Carmine. I love it. Stop. 3-19, 6:02am. Coffee, third show, and cats. The morning time is not bad. I dreamed, but cannot recall now. The visions may return, though, because they feel like they are right behind my eyes. Yesterday was as the first three days of the week. Unproductive. Something happens mid-morning and I run out of ambition. It's as if I already know I cannot amount to much so the inside of me gives up. The computer, watching auctions, whatever... Out of nowhere the feeling hits me and I am paralyzed for the remainder of the afternoon. I've completed little things here and there -- like all of the photographs for the auction listings -- but nothing much more. Last year I remember stating that I would have time to do anything. Now? What the fuck have I done besides watch a few things go out the door? I did rearrange the office and pack up the drums, but honestly that entire project amounted to little more than two hours. What have I been doing? I'm going to lose my shit soon. The truth may be that I have to be slammed by something in order to change or improve the manner in which I handle the days. I don't know, really. Other parts of life and other people have already been slamming me for a fucking year. But if it has to happen, I will be powerless anyway. Maybe my netherworld was the subject of dreams. Something was there. I need to pry it loose and think. Damn. I don't like being teased by a fleeting memory of a dream and then feeling it torn away. The auctions are going pretty well. They have enabled me to dabble in the idea of shrinking my footprint. Big out, small in (or nothing in). I suppose I can look upon the streamlining of possessions as work and some sort of accomplishment. That may help me deal with an entire year seemingly burned away. Trying to reason through things can provide the pathway to a better outlook anyway. I'll try to maintain a positive stance as the next several days roll on by. I still keep the house organized, clean and ready for anything, I guess. Looking at everything I do? Much is accomplished. Maybe I should consider more than just the projects and such. Between that episode of my show mentioned yesterday and a new advertisement on television, my brain tried to come to terms with society yet again. The show is a 'known' and I can deal with it more easily due to the fact that it's fiction. Plus, I am usually alone while it is in the background. The ad was another story. I can understand product improvement and new introductions when some sort of breakthrough is made in technology, but the manner in which they have displayed and advertised the main advantages is just not good. The world keeps advancing toward a blurred line between levels of appropriately rated television (both ads and shows), which means what we see and hear on a daily basis is much different than two or three decades back. This is not good. It represents a massive shift in privacy and sensitivity, along with demonstrating a cold detachment from all which used to be precious. All is becoming generic. Last night I made dinner and took care of business, all the while those thoughts were right beneath the surface. Thank Christ my little netherworld includes dinner and an episode of the show. Without it? I would be in even worse shape right now. I stated it above, but one more time for posterity... I cannot fight the waves. I do not know why such things enter my head and cause problems. All of that material on television has nothing to do with me, yet still I shudder at the thought. There is always some kind of relatable issue connected to the media. I have not felt this level of difficulty in many years. I do recall eighty-nine when something took place in my buddy's truck as we drove north toward my home, but I can't go into specifics. There were three of us seated in his small cab. Conversation, nothing more. But there was a point which helped me to realize that someone had been monitoring their wording for my benefit... Possibly months of it. Well, nothing terrible came of the situation. Nothing at all, really, as I believe time healed the shit. Years later when we moved across the country? Gone. All of it. I did not worry any longer. The point is I cannot recall any actual event rolling over me and causing years of distress. There had to have been something else. I do not fall this far down the hill without something specific. I just can't remember. The television will continue to keep me company, no matter the level of truncation, though. I need something there. Child of the seventies. Heh. The advancement of everything is going to continue no matter what individuals end up completely railroaded by the material. It happens to me, and I suppose the situation could be chalked up to what some friends of mine used to say about hitting certain age milestones: At some point we begin to look back more than forward, and as those innocent moments of the long past begin to contrast what is current, we lament them. The 'good ol' days' may not be exactly that, yet the memories generally are. The 'good' is relative and simply means we are fond of the times. Less people, lower technology requiring us to do many things manually, and taking less for granted. Well, a side effect of the same progress which is pushing the memories away is leniency toward the protection of young people. We have shrunk the world and made everything too easily accessible. I'm getting too philosophical now. The bottom line is shortened attention spans and the need to be constantly entertained. And I am not referring to media in particular, I'm talking about the mind. The entertainment often comes at a high cost, yet few seem to realize it. I have become a product of said entertainment. Eh... Fuck that subject anyway. I dislike almost everything these days, most notably the words emanating from a person's fucking maw. Shut it, please. Nothing coming out to the rest of the world is going to do any fucking good, so stifle your shit. At least I have the good feeling that the house will be mine for hours, and that is going to take place within an hour or so. The kitchen, the garage perhaps, and whatever else. Maybe the show later, I don't know yet. I'll have to keep all this crap in mind, too. Watching the show can cause problems, so my efforts in keeping myself to myself are important. Coming out the other side means success in hiding everything. Until that point in the afternoon, I may list one or two more items and then work on something interesting, whatever that may entail. If I end up a pile of shit like yesterday? So be it. I don't fucking care anymore. I'll do whatever I can and seek whatever I may need. There is Jessica with those goofy contacts. Again... Why did they do that? I was rather paranoid way back when. The reason is not something I can go into here, though. But I am not like that anymore. I believe the relationship was the reason. It was her, but not her fault, if that makes any sense. All me. Those feelings gave way to other concerns in life, as I am sure they did for others. The incident in the truck has not always been in the back of my mind, either. No one else seemed to have a problem with what took place. Just me. So, even all those years ago I reacted to things differently... As if I was alone in my thinking and consideration. Now? I seem to be even less like those I have known. Either that or they have become cemented in the idea of showing off for the benefit of anyone watching. Clues have led me to doubt such a fact, though. I am tiring of this shit. Maybe I need to push instead of remaining idle. Good idea? Just shove everything at someone to see what happens? I've done it before, in fact. All the shit came flowing out as if a dam broke, and at the time I simply shoved any worry aside in favor of continuing to gush. Afterward? Drunk. Heh. I went downtown and sat for drinks and a meal to get away from everyone. I can to that again, although the feeling of sitting in a nice restaurant is vastly different than a year ago. Too bad, but I floated the idea just in case. An explosion is a distinct possibility, as well, so care must be taken. Oh, there is another option for the aftermath. I can let it go and then cut off all contact with that person for the remainder of life. Nice, right? Eh... Fuck it. Nothing will change anytime soon. Just a thought. No one is going to understand anything. There is no confidence left. I just keep seeing, hearing and thinking of those difficult situations and cannot do anything about it other than continuing here. So far I have solved exactly nothing, but without other ideas this is it these days. I'll just keep typing. I have to take a pause for the cause and get my brain out of bad places right now. Very bad. Head is full. 8:26am. Alone. And Kira is a badass. The netherworld must take over or I will fall off the wagon again. Thinking of those days spent at the dining table with either the tennis matches or the second show on the television brings thoughts of mansions, yachts and escape from the toilsome situation. Actually it was not so toilsome. I spent days at home (like now) and attended school at night. I may have gone into this already. Anyway, the feeling of sitting there with a snack or something to drink reminds me of how many different places I've lived and always found such comfort. Aside from the military (obviously), every location found me in a similar position somehow. The possibility that my netherworld has always been with me no matter what I have called home is very interesting. A sort of cocoon or waffle compartment (heh) in which I can do whatever feels comfortable and, more importantly, familiar. I am referring to a way of life. The netherworld? Maybe. I cannot know for certain. What happens if it is the other world? Like... The one with Jaime and me in a big mansion, all comfortable and isolated from the mass? That could be bad because it points to only one possibility. Ugh... Stop. 3-20, 6:15am. Yesterday was not all bad. The morning work was the best, though. Such a consideration has me worried over whatever future may be in store. Will I remain in the fucking kitchen all the time? Put a twin bed in there? I wish that was funny. Maybe a wagon, right? The wagon of terror. Shame. Sixes and sevens all the fucking time these days. The kitchen is pretty much the only part of the day without those numbers. Wagons east! As I said, not all bad. The kitchen and the short visit were nice. Two of my knives came in the mail as well. They are everything I'd hoped, and more. My two auctions are going well, the housework was no big deal, and a little extra was completed. It should have been a good day, huh? Nope. I said not all bad. There was some. And something is happening this morning as a result of my current state of having become cemented here. A change I had not been expecting, either. The last year has helped to grow those problems inside, two of them becoming much worse than ever before. The other two headed toward the back burner recently. Well, I have been so preoccupied with concern that I had forgotten one other option. So, despite the bad yesterday, those hours all summed overnight to bring a possibility I had not considered. I may be able to work with everything if I can shut off caring for others and focus upon myself. Harsh? Perhaps. That is a big 'if'. The biggest. Right now I don't see it happening. I become overly concerned over the smallest detail sometimes and the idea of leaving others out of the equation may be too much of a leap right now. Just throughout the last two months, nearly everything which graces the television screen has some kind of trouble built in. A year ago I did not see it, or at least not in the same way. Now? All fucked up. So, while shutting people out completely and turning toward myself seems a good idea, I doubt I can make it happen. I'll continue to work on it, though. The fact is my mood can turn on a dime and from one paragraph to the next. No sooner do I come up with an idea and then put it here when the movie on the screen and thoughts of the recent past smack me right back down to the fucking floor. Sometimes I don't know how I lived through the last few months. There were times when my head became so bad that the ultimate exit became illuminated just like in eleven. Back then from one moment to the next I went all the way down and back up again several times. It was exhausting. The same situation is repeating, only now for very different reasons. I may not be equipped to handle those problems anymore. The thought of focusing upon myself and telling everyone else to take a flying leap is great, but in reality I'll back down as quickly as I puffed up. It's just the way I am put together. A person really has to come at me before I can be unkind. Believe me, I've tried many times. The worst part of the present is that I never expected to go through something like this at my age. I figured by now everything would be either understood or unimportant. Apparently I am weaker than I had calculated back when I was strutting my stuff through the gun room with head high. I've lost something important inside and do not know where to begin the search. These months have been like a giant slide with only a slight rake. A slow decline, and when I look backward to see where I was, the slide is falling away up there. No way back. No rise. No hope. I just have to fucking deal with it. And here we are yet again, roughly 4100 words into whatever this mess will be, and no better for the typing. I said the last 'few' months because my mind is exponentially more complex and far worse than just a year ago. I would love to tell everyone to fuck off, but in the end I'll be exactly the same. There is a small event later which may prove fascinating. A test of sorts, really. I have been considering that idea of people being shut out, and as difficult as it may be, I can still get a little head start through some experimentation. Hopefully I can stick with it and avoid softening. I have to do whatever brings me up, and if that behavior tends to push off other people, so be it. Nothing harsh, just a bit of cold. Light coming up. Definitely a test. In the past I've planned to try similar ideas but they always fell through at some point due to my not paying attention and allowing shit to get out of hand. Too soft. I need to maintain the front line throughout. It is not easy these days, though. I am a nice person and cannot be unkind. This test is going to be very interesting, to say the least. I cannot let slip anything, either. Everything which has been piling up for years continues to plague my patience and always pushes me to speak with someone. Even a small thought here or there can help, yet to do so in the type of situation later is a delicate matter. Care will have to be taken. I realize that much of this says absolutely nothing, but trust me it's important right now. Switch. Enough of that. Nothing will work out how I wish anyway. Lately I have been feeling the draw of the desert, a road trip, or some kind of destination through which I can wander and see the world through my lens. I have to get the hell out of here and see the open road again, preferably where there are not many people. Perhaps Death Valley would work. I've not been there since zero five, although two years prior to that was the trip which changed my outlook. Anyway, aside from the Valley, there are other ideas floating inside which could bring me out to the middle of fucking nowhere, just the way I used to like it. The way I see it now, if I am going to sit here day after miserable day and dream of all the shit which is now impossible, I may as well get the fuck out and feel the same in a nicer location. Years ago I had few options due to no car. Well, not anymore. It's right outside. I have to go somewhere, and soon. One of my auctions is out of control. This knife is apparently valuable to some and has received tons of bids at only halfway through the run. I was not expecting such a price. The other knife is languishing. I have one on the hook which I'll grab when the time is right, but other than that there are no prospects. I would like to continue selling and watch the balance rise. Considering how much cash we are about to hand the company for lateral replacement, I'd like to build the reserve back to where it was. It will take time, but there is no way around it right now. The auctions are a good thing. Today is going to be like many other Saturdays. Some work, lots of thinking, brunch at a local restaurant, and then more thinking and whatever else I can do around here to keep my head on straight. I keep thinking of the lyrics to 'Let it Snow' and the idyllic scene played out within. The song paints a strong picture of those bygone holiday gatherings I mentioned here several times. They feel as if they never really took place due to so much time passing and my life being radically different now. Last season I did my best to bring the holiday feeling into this very living room, too. In some ways it worked, having the tree up early and decorating so much, yet still the world appeared strange despite my red and green lighting and movies. This time of year typically had me yearning for the onset of fall so the work was eased through cooler weather and football gatherings either at home or the bar. None of it exists any longer. All gone, and it hurts. I suppose the changes were destined to happen because nothing can go on forever. Looking at the remaining hours of this day is becoming rough. The brunch idea is hours away, we have an appointment at the phone store later, and in between will be me wandering the house and working on my usual crap. The netherworld is still in my head, pretty damned deep now. It contains so many impossibilities that I am having a hard time keeping my brain from sending the rest of me further down the slide. I switched movies and now there are far less males on the screen at a given moment. Media is one smidgen of control. If necessary, I can really slam the television and put on something completely safe. As I have stated many times, even while alone the trouble looms like an extra shadow bent upon causing heartache. With others I end up pushing the fear away in favor of avoiding the other fear. The whole thing is ridiculous. My netherworld holds none of that because it is focused upon either the past or a dream, the latter being a place I can never inhabit yet one I need beyond belief or rational thought. Jaime is in there, and at this point in time she is no longer a woman or some kind of machine, but an idea. The world seems to move with me as I go through the motions of life, all the while just beyond my fingertips. Every part of reality is becoming unacceptable, while everything within my dream world is impossible. If you have the fucking answer, I'd love to hear it. Wow, Michael J. Fox is actually taller than his costar, Gabrielle Anwar, yet still shorter than his wife. Hmm. He is a giant on the screen, though... Always. I even have trouble watching the food network these days. How fucked up is that? Almost time to go do something other than this. Sun is shining. Brunch may not happen. I am not feeling it right now. That may change, though, given whatever this morning is going to show me. I have to move some shit around because the action always helps. No beer, though. I don't want to be loosened too much if we do go to the restaurant. I'll turn into something regrettable later. The garage is there waiting, too. I can bounce between inside and outside for a while and seek some things that can go out the door. I also have a bit of dry cleaning. Hmm... Maybe headphones will help. If I decided against the brunch or lunch trip, the day will be freed up until the phone appointment this afternoon. On the other hand, canceling the restaurant may leave me with more free time at home than I want. I just don't know. I'm here all the time, every fucking day, so one would think getting out for a while is a good thing, but understand that after all these months the idea of going out causes anxiety sometimes. The mood has to be right or I will end up worse off than in the beginning. Damn, I wish I could make up my mind definitively. And I turned off the food network. Fuck me. Unbelievable. [Aside: I was reading about the Sopranos and seeing there still exists the debate of what took place at the end. I will not reveal anything, but people need to understand that NOTHING took place at the credits. The fucking show ENDED, for crying out loud. Get over it already.] My mood is dwindling now. Perhaps canceling everything is a good idea. I will be unpleasant. Eh... I don't know. Giving up the idea of ever being happy is having an effect upon how I see women. While watching 'The Kitchen' a few years ago, I wanted to jump Katie. Over time my image of her changed to appreciation for cuteness and her prowess with cooking. Now? I barely pay attention to her other than the goofy outfits she often wears. And then there are the ads in which some of the actors are fucking stunning, and again I am paying much less attention to the beauty and more to other aspects of the campaign. The movie with Michael and Gabrielle earlier contained a scene of her singing in a very tight spandex-type of catsuit which showed every fucking curve on that woman, I swear. Yes, she is very beautiful, but when I saw her on the stage gyrating and looking stunning, my head did not consider her appearance as it would have last summer. I glanced up from this screen and felt a sudden loss, as if nothing like that will be in front of me ever again. The depression is taking over any chance of feeling desire on the heels of my obsession. I have nothing against all those women, though. They have nothing to do with me, nor I them. They are people. I don't know what I am. One certainty is I have felt the change coming this past week and now it seems to be in full swing. I suppose time will tell how the end result will come about. My netherworld contains not one single woman anyway, only an ill-conceived dream. 9:04am. My negative state is growing as the morning wears on. Several individual issues have been both in my brain and on the damned television. I have been relegated to the fucking news due to so many problems. The first movie had its moments, yet still there was too much. The second one was funny -- mostly thanks to Michael who is always fantastic in every role -- but still the imagery and situational analysis drove me to change the channel. And then the capper, the food network pushed my head south until I switched to the news. This is fucking pathetic and will now likely have a dire effect upon the rest of the day, including brunch, should it actually take place. Considering the speed at which I am falling, the likelihood is diminishing at an alarming rate. Terminal velocity, really. The worst part of this entire fucking situation is that I am the cause, yet again. And I feel helpless against the vast and overpowering tide. Damn it. Sheltering in place, you say? I am becoming the champion. If I could only find a way to explore with an objective opinion. I suppose the housework and whatever seems appealing are going to have to keep me going today. I'm accustomed to most of it, though not when everything hits at once. This is rare even for me. Maybe I'll nest like I did last spring. Heh. Broken inside. Something badly damaged. The tiniest reference causes a tailspin. Two has pushed the other three so far back that I cannot even begin to understand how or why. Worsening, with a barren outlook. The fucking food network, of all channels. Pathetic. Netherworld... The only saving throw against reality. Can I go in there? I am tiring of sitting here trying to reason through anything. And I don't just mean this morning, the whole of my existence has been exactly the same since last year. Morning routine with coffee, this, and then preparations for getting her out the door, more of this sometimes, then the housework (the kitchen damned-near my favorite place in the world right now), lunch, and then I lose it completely. Oh, I've worked on other things in the past and improved both my head and the house, however lately I have been held down as if the biggest Sumo wrestlers ever are laying across my torso. Helpless, a lack of strength both inside and out, and then the worries. Most days I just sit here and browse the phone or computer for hours until the evening is apparent. At least then I can go back to the kitchen and cook. If my life has literally been boiled down to working in the kitchen and then having dinner with cocktails, I am fucked for sure. And I am sick of feeling this way. No matter which way I try to turn, those visions are right there snagging my shirt and pulling me back from any positive directions. I cannot stop them, nor can I rationalize anything. My life has become a fucking tennis match between two opponents: A mass of issues and harsh memories on one side sparring with what little is left of my ambition. Well, guess which is winning. I am seeing the 'nether' in netherworld. It is my creation, yet as impossible as everything else necessary for my happiness. I have to continue remaining at a distance from everyone. It is the only way. No matter what kind of situation or activity is involved, something will invariably cause distress. That is tough, because I will not run from the scene anymore. I will remain there, full of worry and dying inside. One fear... Remember? The strength required in maintaining my composure during such events is crippling. Almost time to get the hell away from this exploration, or whatever the fuck I am doing here these days. I suppose the garage and office can be the focus for the time being. My desire to be more 'compact' is still pretty damned strong these days. The unfortunate truth is that I cannot pare myself down as far as I'd like. It is unrealistic, honestly. A certain amount of crap is necessary for carrying on with daily life, at least as long as I am in this house. And I don't see anything different on the horizon, either. I'll just have to do my best in ridding myself of those items which are completely unnecessary. Right now they are many. Big stuff out, smaller stuff in, I guess. Or nothing in. Shit, I don't know anymore. I'll do something, though. Ugh. The upside is still in view, believe it or not. The physical comfort which has become dire to my existence still is available. I need it and can count on a measure each day. The early morning and evening are best right now. Maybe I can work on whatever the fuck looks appealing and focus upon the comfort being a reward of sorts. I'm sure others do the same. It makes sense, right? Like the payoff of the work week being the weekend. Today can be a step in such a direction. One thing which I have shut off completely is helping. The idea of seeking assistance of some flavor and bouncing myself off another person is just not going to happen. I have a lot of experience with the process, too. Nothing good ever came of it because I have the innate ability to railroad and leverage pretty much anyone sitting across from me. The same will happen again on top of even more bullshit concern over having revealed what may be the most ridiculous thoughts and fears ever. Well, at least I have been decisive about it. That is something. And with that crap, I am done here for now. 286. 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
Netherworld Mature content No. 233 Published March 20th, 2021 9:45am pdt read ( words) Past entries "3-18. Dreaming, dreaming and more dreaming. Yesterday was decent, although daydreaming led me into dreams this morning which were not good. I was there... Back all those years. I felt it. Now? Gone again. Fleeting. I don't know what to do anymore. The motions, coffee, this, whatever... Losing grip. I never went above and beyond yesterday. Dropped the ball, left the game. I could not find the will nor the direction. Something happened and I don't know if I can get the motivation back. Whatever it is I've been doing all these months is apparently wrong. Dreaming in a netherworld of my own construction. The only thing worse is seeing Kasidy again. Ugh... She is so boring. 8:13am. Morning business is finished. The triumvirate is still weighing me down. All day long, usually. The rare occasion finds me balanced and not worried. I don't know what to think anymore. The fact of the discovery piled on top of all those concerns over the two and related bullshit is really pushing. Lately, the simplest of tasks has become nearly insurmountable. I just can't fucking have this right now, leaving my only option the idea of floating and dreaming within a world of my own craft. The future is narrow and dim. I guess I'll continue to sell things. The one watch I listed yesterday has been pulled due to a lack of any interest after a few hours. I have to be careful. If something valuable does not show serious commitment in a short period of time, I must remove the item for fear of shipping it out for a low price. I can't have that. I may be selling, but they still hold some value for myself. That means keep them. Pause. 10:16am. Routine finished. Now what? This is so very bad now. All of the crap I've been trying to deal with for the last several years is combined. Issues... More. I cannot get rid of anything. Even with the gangsters on both televisions and echoing through the entire house while I cleaned the kitchen, still my head descended. The slightest imagery or reference can set me off. Alone is good most of the time as my days are free, however much of the time I am seeking comfort of a type unrealized. I don't know how much longer I can do this. Back to the fear being outweighed by another. Will discussing everything help? Or will it send me down further, possibly never to rise again? Maybe I should avoid watching the last two seasons of this show. Jamie throws me off and dredges up three different women, one of which I never even new. Her name is close, though... The one I gave her. This is bad. I am seeing less and less good with each passing day. I cannot remain in the netherworld without reminders of reality creeping in and ruining my dreams. The years and situations which continue to drift into me are at odds with my current world. Too far in and I may never return. Not the aforementioned basement, either. I am speaking of losing the ability to relate... Completely. The scene is well-known to me. This series has gone from beginning to end many times and generally brings on a huge appreciation for every aspect of the production. It is amazing. Even the scene and shot in question is enjoyable and wondrous from an acting standpoint. Nearly unknown actors created characters more memorable and fascinating than I imagined prior to experiencing this years ago. The episode is unbelievably well-made. My brain is the only problem. One little reference during the shot brings all manner of difficulty, from my own physical problems to wondering how others feel about the dialog. It is commonplace these days, too. I cannot fight society any more than I can win against progress. Impossible, to the last. So, I see it over and over for years and have the same fucking trouble every time. Well, until recently. I am now much more sensitive to everything which others seem to take in stride. No solution. I just have to fucking sit on it like the rest. To be completely honest, I would not change one iota of this series given the chance. It would lose realism. Not reality, but realism. Reality on television is both a falsehood and oxymoron. Impossible. Me successfully coming to terms with the state of the world is equally so. Time for alcohol. Fuck it. Something of which I am unaware had to have taken place between the mid-zeros or so and now. I was not like this many years earlier. I was relaxed. Oh, there were issues with this or that, but for the most part I dealt with others differently and with an open mind. Now? I am completely closed off and unable to get through the slightest difficulty. This is not good. There must be an engram somewhere buried deep which has been disallowing me to relate or cope. Is everyone like this? To some degree? No answer. Back in time there had to have been a catalyst. All this writing for months and I am no better. More open (sort of), but no better. All of the activities in which I engage day after day have been chiefly built so I can be physically comfortable and possibly more mentally relaxed. Sometimes my ideas work, other times they do not. But I am still here, for whatever it may be worth. Tortured, tormented and frightened much of the time, but here nonetheless. I have no fucking idea of what has kept me out of the ground for the last ten years. Perhaps memories of being with those beautiful souls and wrapped in loving care and the sliver of a chance I can be there again. Dreamy, those trips, and sans attachment. Is that good? Or simply a selfish indulgence? My desires in life are those of a machine; detached, full of endeavors which disregard others, and a deep resolve in maintaining a mysterious existence. Switch for one sentence... I just killed the ancestry subscription and provided a reason with which -- believe me -- no one will wish to take issue. The likelihood of anything similar to those escapes is nil. I honestly cannot expect the same situations to arise beyond the simplicity of quality food, drinks and atmosphere. I am nine years older and no better for wear. Not even fucking close. This downed state has taken its toll on my physical health. The best I can hope for in the future is an all-expenses paid coupling full of bullshit. That is all. The food and booze cannot hold a candle to those with whom I shared the same, so heading into oblivion again does not seem a good idea. I will most likely come out the other side worse off than I am right now. The minuscule upside is the fact that whomever would be hanging on my arm all over the resorts would know nothing of me. Go ahead and laugh. Again, something of which I am completely unaware has ruined my ability to be near another person without falling through to the dark side of everything. It is swallowing me whole. Just go back a dozen entries and compare that crap with the current. This is bad. The taste of Guinness reminds me of more past life scenes than I can possibly describe. Just saying. Wow, my knees are really fucked up from years of working in construction. 4:03pm. Oy fuck damn does this show try to milk as much humor as possible during difficult situations. I will not go into specifics, however, because I cannot extend their efforts in trivializing something of dire importance to my survival. Suffice to say, the entire subject still hits me like a ton of bricks, whether 'humorous' or otherwise. I live with it due to a lack of choice. Society always wins. There is no way around it other than the plan from the early nineties for relocating very far from everyone. More bad. That plan is dead. I listed another auction for one of my knives and finally reworked the printer and ink for photos. Not bad for such a down day. The weather outside is as gloomy as my outlook. The money coming in from selling is a big positive, though. Options are always good, as is empty space left behind as possessions go out the door. I mentioned before that I tend to rid myself of large items and then purchase small. This is good. A little over an hour left to my alone time means I might take care of a few more tasks. I like the kitchen to be polished for dinner preparations, especially with me cooking much more than in the past. With the television hanging on the wall opposite the work space (visible in a large mirror), tooling around the kitchen is ten times more enjoyable than before I took on such a project. I've mentioned it a few times. That single change in the house is one of the best ideas I've had in a long time. Cooking is always fun, but with my shows up there keeping me company, the kitchen is now my favorite room. Moreover, the inside of this home is becoming another type of netherworld -- one outside the sphere of others. I have control here. 'Some of you know I've had nine pictures under my subspecies'. Jesus, Carmine. I love it. Stop. 3-19, 6:02am. Coffee, third show, and cats. The morning time is not bad. I dreamed, but cannot recall now. The visions may return, though, because they feel like they are right behind my eyes. Yesterday was as the first three days of the week. Unproductive. Something happens mid-morning and I run out of ambition. It's as if I already know I cannot amount to much so the inside of me gives up. The computer, watching auctions, whatever... Out of nowhere the feeling hits me and I am paralyzed for the remainder of the afternoon. I've completed little things here and there -- like all of the photographs for the auction listings -- but nothing much more. Last year I remember stating that I would have time to do anything. Now? What the fuck have I done besides watch a few things go out the door? I did rearrange the office and pack up the drums, but honestly that entire project amounted to little more than two hours. What have I been doing? I'm going to lose my shit soon. The truth may be that I have to be slammed by something in order to change or improve the manner in which I handle the days. I don't know, really. Other parts of life and other people have already been slamming me for a fucking year. But if it has to happen, I will be powerless anyway. Maybe my netherworld was the subject of dreams. Something was there. I need to pry it loose and think. Damn. I don't like being teased by a fleeting memory of a dream and then feeling it torn away. The auctions are going pretty well. They have enabled me to dabble in the idea of shrinking my footprint. Big out, small in (or nothing in). I suppose I can look upon the streamlining of possessions as work and some sort of accomplishment. That may help me deal with an entire year seemingly burned away. Trying to reason through things can provide the pathway to a better outlook anyway. I'll try to maintain a positive stance as the next several days roll on by. I still keep the house organized, clean and ready for anything, I guess. Looking at everything I do? Much is accomplished. Maybe I should consider more than just the projects and such. Between that episode of my show mentioned yesterday and a new advertisement on television, my brain tried to come to terms with society yet again. The show is a 'known' and I can deal with it more easily due to the fact that it's fiction. Plus, I am usually alone while it is in the background. The ad was another story. I can understand product improvement and new introductions when some sort of breakthrough is made in technology, but the manner in which they have displayed and advertised the main advantages is just not good. The world keeps advancing toward a blurred line between levels of appropriately rated television (both ads and shows), which means what we see and hear on a daily basis is much different than two or three decades back. This is not good. It represents a massive shift in privacy and sensitivity, along with demonstrating a cold detachment from all which used to be precious. All is becoming generic. Last night I made dinner and took care of business, all the while those thoughts were right beneath the surface. Thank Christ my little netherworld includes dinner and an episode of the show. Without it? I would be in even worse shape right now. I stated it above, but one more time for posterity... I cannot fight the waves. I do not know why such things enter my head and cause problems. All of that material on television has nothing to do with me, yet still I shudder at the thought. There is always some kind of relatable issue connected to the media. I have not felt this level of difficulty in many years. I do recall eighty-nine when something took place in my buddy's truck as we drove north toward my home, but I can't go into specifics. There were three of us seated in his small cab. Conversation, nothing more. But there was a point which helped me to realize that someone had been monitoring their wording for my benefit... Possibly months of it. Well, nothing terrible came of the situation. Nothing at all, really, as I believe time healed the shit. Years later when we moved across the country? Gone. All of it. I did not worry any longer. The point is I cannot recall any actual event rolling over me and causing years of distress. There had to have been something else. I do not fall this far down the hill without something specific. I just can't remember. The television will continue to keep me company, no matter the level of truncation, though. I need something there. Child of the seventies. Heh. The advancement of everything is going to continue no matter what individuals end up completely railroaded by the material. It happens to me, and I suppose the situation could be chalked up to what some friends of mine used to say about hitting certain age milestones: At some point we begin to look back more than forward, and as those innocent moments of the long past begin to contrast what is current, we lament them. The 'good ol' days' may not be exactly that, yet the memories generally are. The 'good' is relative and simply means we are fond of the times. Less people, lower technology requiring us to do many things manually, and taking less for granted. Well, a side effect of the same progress which is pushing the memories away is leniency toward the protection of young people. We have shrunk the world and made everything too easily accessible. I'm getting too philosophical now. The bottom line is shortened attention spans and the need to be constantly entertained. And I am not referring to media in particular, I'm talking about the mind. The entertainment often comes at a high cost, yet few seem to realize it. I have become a product of said entertainment. Eh... Fuck that subject anyway. I dislike almost everything these days, most notably the words emanating from a person's fucking maw. Shut it, please. Nothing coming out to the rest of the world is going to do any fucking good, so stifle your shit. At least I have the good feeling that the house will be mine for hours, and that is going to take place within an hour or so. The kitchen, the garage perhaps, and whatever else. Maybe the show later, I don't know yet. I'll have to keep all this crap in mind, too. Watching the show can cause problems, so my efforts in keeping myself to myself are important. Coming out the other side means success in hiding everything. Until that point in the afternoon, I may list one or two more items and then work on something interesting, whatever that may entail. If I end up a pile of shit like yesterday? So be it. I don't fucking care anymore. I'll do whatever I can and seek whatever I may need. There is Jessica with those goofy contacts. Again... Why did they do that? I was rather paranoid way back when. The reason is not something I can go into here, though. But I am not like that anymore. I believe the relationship was the reason. It was her, but not her fault, if that makes any sense. All me. Those feelings gave way to other concerns in life, as I am sure they did for others. The incident in the truck has not always been in the back of my mind, either. No one else seemed to have a problem with what took place. Just me. So, even all those years ago I reacted to things differently... As if I was alone in my thinking and consideration. Now? I seem to be even less like those I have known. Either that or they have become cemented in the idea of showing off for the benefit of anyone watching. Clues have led me to doubt such a fact, though. I am tiring of this shit. Maybe I need to push instead of remaining idle. Good idea? Just shove everything at someone to see what happens? I've done it before, in fact. All the shit came flowing out as if a dam broke, and at the time I simply shoved any worry aside in favor of continuing to gush. Afterward? Drunk. Heh. I went downtown and sat for drinks and a meal to get away from everyone. I can to that again, although the feeling of sitting in a nice restaurant is vastly different than a year ago. Too bad, but I floated the idea just in case. An explosion is a distinct possibility, as well, so care must be taken. Oh, there is another option for the aftermath. I can let it go and then cut off all contact with that person for the remainder of life. Nice, right? Eh... Fuck it. Nothing will change anytime soon. Just a thought. No one is going to understand anything. There is no confidence left. I just keep seeing, hearing and thinking of those difficult situations and cannot do anything about it other than continuing here. So far I have solved exactly nothing, but without other ideas this is it these days. I'll just keep typing. I have to take a pause for the cause and get my brain out of bad places right now. Very bad. Head is full. 8:26am. Alone. And Kira is a badass. The netherworld must take over or I will fall off the wagon again. Thinking of those days spent at the dining table with either the tennis matches or the second show on the television brings thoughts of mansions, yachts and escape from the toilsome situation. Actually it was not so toilsome. I spent days at home (like now) and attended school at night. I may have gone into this already. Anyway, the feeling of sitting there with a snack or something to drink reminds me of how many different places I've lived and always found such comfort. Aside from the military (obviously), every location found me in a similar position somehow. The possibility that my netherworld has always been with me no matter what I have called home is very interesting. A sort of cocoon or waffle compartment (heh) in which I can do whatever feels comfortable and, more importantly, familiar. I am referring to a way of life. The netherworld? Maybe. I cannot know for certain. What happens if it is the other world? Like... The one with Jaime and me in a big mansion, all comfortable and isolated from the mass? That could be bad because it points to only one possibility. Ugh... Stop. 3-20, 6:15am. Yesterday was not all bad. The morning work was the best, though. Such a consideration has me worried over whatever future may be in store. Will I remain in the fucking kitchen all the time? Put a twin bed in there? I wish that was funny. Maybe a wagon, right? The wagon of terror. Shame. Sixes and sevens all the fucking time these days. The kitchen is pretty much the only part of the day without those numbers. Wagons east! As I said, not all bad. The kitchen and the short visit were nice. Two of my knives came in the mail as well. They are everything I'd hoped, and more. My two auctions are going well, the housework was no big deal, and a little extra was completed. It should have been a good day, huh? Nope. I said not all bad. There was some. And something is happening this morning as a result of my current state of having become cemented here. A change I had not been expecting, either. The last year has helped to grow those problems inside, two of them becoming much worse than ever before. The other two headed toward the back burner recently. Well, I have been so preoccupied with concern that I had forgotten one other option. So, despite the bad yesterday, those hours all summed overnight to bring a possibility I had not considered. I may be able to work with everything if I can shut off caring for others and focus upon myself. Harsh? Perhaps. That is a big 'if'. The biggest. Right now I don't see it happening. I become overly concerned over the smallest detail sometimes and the idea of leaving others out of the equation may be too much of a leap right now. Just throughout the last two months, nearly everything which graces the television screen has some kind of trouble built in. A year ago I did not see it, or at least not in the same way. Now? All fucked up. So, while shutting people out completely and turning toward myself seems a good idea, I doubt I can make it happen. I'll continue to work on it, though. The fact is my mood can turn on a dime and from one paragraph to the next. No sooner do I come up with an idea and then put it here when the movie on the screen and thoughts of the recent past smack me right back down to the fucking floor. Sometimes I don't know how I lived through the last few months. There were times when my head became so bad that the ultimate exit became illuminated just like in eleven. Back then from one moment to the next I went all the way down and back up again several times. It was exhausting. The same situation is repeating, only now for very different reasons. I may not be equipped to handle those problems anymore. The thought of focusing upon myself and telling everyone else to take a flying leap is great, but in reality I'll back down as quickly as I puffed up. It's just the way I am put together. A person really has to come at me before I can be unkind. Believe me, I've tried many times. The worst part of the present is that I never expected to go through something like this at my age. I figured by now everything would be either understood or unimportant. Apparently I am weaker than I had calculated back when I was strutting my stuff through the gun room with head high. I've lost something important inside and do not know where to begin the search. These months have been like a giant slide with only a slight rake. A slow decline, and when I look backward to see where I was, the slide is falling away up there. No way back. No rise. No hope. I just have to fucking deal with it. And here we are yet again, roughly 4100 words into whatever this mess will be, and no better for the typing. I said the last 'few' months because my mind is exponentially more complex and far worse than just a year ago. I would love to tell everyone to fuck off, but in the end I'll be exactly the same. There is a small event later which may prove fascinating. A test of sorts, really. I have been considering that idea of people being shut out, and as difficult as it may be, I can still get a little head start through some experimentation. Hopefully I can stick with it and avoid softening. I have to do whatever brings me up, and if that behavior tends to push off other people, so be it. Nothing harsh, just a bit of cold. Light coming up. Definitely a test. In the past I've planned to try similar ideas but they always fell through at some point due to my not paying attention and allowing shit to get out of hand. Too soft. I need to maintain the front line throughout. It is not easy these days, though. I am a nice person and cannot be unkind. This test is going to be very interesting, to say the least. I cannot let slip anything, either. Everything which has been piling up for years continues to plague my patience and always pushes me to speak with someone. Even a small thought here or there can help, yet to do so in the type of situation later is a delicate matter. Care will have to be taken. I realize that much of this says absolutely nothing, but trust me it's important right now. Switch. Enough of that. Nothing will work out how I wish anyway. Lately I have been feeling the draw of the desert, a road trip, or some kind of destination through which I can wander and see the world through my lens. I have to get the hell out of here and see the open road again, preferably where there are not many people. Perhaps Death Valley would work. I've not been there since zero five, although two years prior to that was the trip which changed my outlook. Anyway, aside from the Valley, there are other ideas floating inside which could bring me out to the middle of fucking nowhere, just the way I used to like it. The way I see it now, if I am going to sit here day after miserable day and dream of all the shit which is now impossible, I may as well get the fuck out and feel the same in a nicer location. Years ago I had few options due to no car. Well, not anymore. It's right outside. I have to go somewhere, and soon. One of my auctions is out of control. This knife is apparently valuable to some and has received tons of bids at only halfway through the run. I was not expecting such a price. The other knife is languishing. I have one on the hook which I'll grab when the time is right, but other than that there are no prospects. I would like to continue selling and watch the balance rise. Considering how much cash we are about to hand the company for lateral replacement, I'd like to build the reserve back to where it was. It will take time, but there is no way around it right now. The auctions are a good thing. Today is going to be like many other Saturdays. Some work, lots of thinking, brunch at a local restaurant, and then more thinking and whatever else I can do around here to keep my head on straight. I keep thinking of the lyrics to 'Let it Snow' and the idyllic scene played out within. The song paints a strong picture of those bygone holiday gatherings I mentioned here several times. They feel as if they never really took place due to so much time passing and my life being radically different now. Last season I did my best to bring the holiday feeling into this very living room, too. In some ways it worked, having the tree up early and decorating so much, yet still the world appeared strange despite my red and green lighting and movies. This time of year typically had me yearning for the onset of fall so the work was eased through cooler weather and football gatherings either at home or the bar. None of it exists any longer. All gone, and it hurts. I suppose the changes were destined to happen because nothing can go on forever. Looking at the remaining hours of this day is becoming rough. The brunch idea is hours away, we have an appointment at the phone store later, and in between will be me wandering the house and working on my usual crap. The netherworld is still in my head, pretty damned deep now. It contains so many impossibilities that I am having a hard time keeping my brain from sending the rest of me further down the slide. I switched movies and now there are far less males on the screen at a given moment. Media is one smidgen of control. If necessary, I can really slam the television and put on something completely safe. As I have stated many times, even while alone the trouble looms like an extra shadow bent upon causing heartache. With others I end up pushing the fear away in favor of avoiding the other fear. The whole thing is ridiculous. My netherworld holds none of that because it is focused upon either the past or a dream, the latter being a place I can never inhabit yet one I need beyond belief or rational thought. Jaime is in there, and at this point in time she is no longer a woman or some kind of machine, but an idea. The world seems to move with me as I go through the motions of life, all the while just beyond my fingertips. Every part of reality is becoming unacceptable, while everything within my dream world is impossible. If you have the fucking answer, I'd love to hear it. Wow, Michael J. Fox is actually taller than his costar, Gabrielle Anwar, yet still shorter than his wife. Hmm. He is a giant on the screen, though... Always. I even have trouble watching the food network these days. How fucked up is that? Almost time to go do something other than this. Sun is shining. Brunch may not happen. I am not feeling it right now. That may change, though, given whatever this morning is going to show me. I have to move some shit around because the action always helps. No beer, though. I don't want to be loosened too much if we do go to the restaurant. I'll turn into something regrettable later. The garage is there waiting, too. I can bounce between inside and outside for a while and seek some things that can go out the door. I also have a bit of dry cleaning. Hmm... Maybe headphones will help. If I decided against the brunch or lunch trip, the day will be freed up until the phone appointment this afternoon. On the other hand, canceling the restaurant may leave me with more free time at home than I want. I just don't know. I'm here all the time, every fucking day, so one would think getting out for a while is a good thing, but understand that after all these months the idea of going out causes anxiety sometimes. The mood has to be right or I will end up worse off than in the beginning. Damn, I wish I could make up my mind definitively. And I turned off the food network. Fuck me. Unbelievable. [Aside: I was reading about the Sopranos and seeing there still exists the debate of what took place at the end. I will not reveal anything, but people need to understand that NOTHING took place at the credits. The fucking show ENDED, for crying out loud. Get over it already.] My mood is dwindling now. Perhaps canceling everything is a good idea. I will be unpleasant. Eh... I don't know. Giving up the idea of ever being happy is having an effect upon how I see women. While watching 'The Kitchen' a few years ago, I wanted to jump Katie. Over time my image of her changed to appreciation for cuteness and her prowess with cooking. Now? I barely pay attention to her other than the goofy outfits she often wears. And then there are the ads in which some of the actors are fucking stunning, and again I am paying much less attention to the beauty and more to other aspects of the campaign. The movie with Michael and Gabrielle earlier contained a scene of her singing in a very tight spandex-type of catsuit which showed every fucking curve on that woman, I swear. Yes, she is very beautiful, but when I saw her on the stage gyrating and looking stunning, my head did not consider her appearance as it would have last summer. I glanced up from this screen and felt a sudden loss, as if nothing like that will be in front of me ever again. The depression is taking over any chance of feeling desire on the heels of my obsession. I have nothing against all those women, though. They have nothing to do with me, nor I them. They are people. I don't know what I am. One certainty is I have felt the change coming this past week and now it seems to be in full swing. I suppose time will tell how the end result will come about. My netherworld contains not one single woman anyway, only an ill-conceived dream. 9:04am. My negative state is growing as the morning wears on. Several individual issues have been both in my brain and on the damned television. I have been relegated to the fucking news due to so many problems. The first movie had its moments, yet still there was too much. The second one was funny -- mostly thanks to Michael who is always fantastic in every role -- but still the imagery and situational analysis drove me to change the channel. And then the capper, the food network pushed my head south until I switched to the news. This is fucking pathetic and will now likely have a dire effect upon the rest of the day, including brunch, should it actually take place. Considering the speed at which I am falling, the likelihood is diminishing at an alarming rate. Terminal velocity, really. The worst part of this entire fucking situation is that I am the cause, yet again. And I feel helpless against the vast and overpowering tide. Damn it. Sheltering in place, you say? I am becoming the champion. If I could only find a way to explore with an objective opinion. I suppose the housework and whatever seems appealing are going to have to keep me going today. I'm accustomed to most of it, though not when everything hits at once. This is rare even for me. Maybe I'll nest like I did last spring. Heh. Broken inside. Something badly damaged. The tiniest reference causes a tailspin. Two has pushed the other three so far back that I cannot even begin to understand how or why. Worsening, with a barren outlook. The fucking food network, of all channels. Pathetic. Netherworld... The only saving throw against reality. Can I go in there? I am tiring of sitting here trying to reason through anything. And I don't just mean this morning, the whole of my existence has been exactly the same since last year. Morning routine with coffee, this, and then preparations for getting her out the door, more of this sometimes, then the housework (the kitchen damned-near my favorite place in the world right now), lunch, and then I lose it completely. Oh, I've worked on other things in the past and improved both my head and the house, however lately I have been held down as if the biggest Sumo wrestlers ever are laying across my torso. Helpless, a lack of strength both inside and out, and then the worries. Most days I just sit here and browse the phone or computer for hours until the evening is apparent. At least then I can go back to the kitchen and cook. If my life has literally been boiled down to working in the kitchen and then having dinner with cocktails, I am fucked for sure. And I am sick of feeling this way. No matter which way I try to turn, those visions are right there snagging my shirt and pulling me back from any positive directions. I cannot stop them, nor can I rationalize anything. My life has become a fucking tennis match between two opponents: A mass of issues and harsh memories on one side sparring with what little is left of my ambition. Well, guess which is winning. I am seeing the 'nether' in netherworld. It is my creation, yet as impossible as everything else necessary for my happiness. I have to continue remaining at a distance from everyone. It is the only way. No matter what kind of situation or activity is involved, something will invariably cause distress. That is tough, because I will not run from the scene anymore. I will remain there, full of worry and dying inside. One fear... Remember? The strength required in maintaining my composure during such events is crippling. Almost time to get the hell away from this exploration, or whatever the fuck I am doing here these days. I suppose the garage and office can be the focus for the time being. My desire to be more 'compact' is still pretty damned strong these days. The unfortunate truth is that I cannot pare myself down as far as I'd like. It is unrealistic, honestly. A certain amount of crap is necessary for carrying on with daily life, at least as long as I am in this house. And I don't see anything different on the horizon, either. I'll just have to do my best in ridding myself of those items which are completely unnecessary. Right now they are many. Big stuff out, smaller stuff in, I guess. Or nothing in. Shit, I don't know anymore. I'll do something, though. Ugh. The upside is still in view, believe it or not. The physical comfort which has become dire to my existence still is available. I need it and can count on a measure each day. The early morning and evening are best right now. Maybe I can work on whatever the fuck looks appealing and focus upon the comfort being a reward of sorts. I'm sure others do the same. It makes sense, right? Like the payoff of the work week being the weekend. Today can be a step in such a direction. One thing which I have shut off completely is helping. The idea of seeking assistance of some flavor and bouncing myself off another person is just not going to happen. I have a lot of experience with the process, too. Nothing good ever came of it because I have the innate ability to railroad and leverage pretty much anyone sitting across from me. The same will happen again on top of even more bullshit concern over having revealed what may be the most ridiculous thoughts and fears ever. Well, at least I have been decisive about it. That is something. And with that crap, I am done here for now. 286. She is inside."
Netherworld
Mature content No. 233 Published March 20th, 2021 9:45am pdt read ( words) Past entries
"3-18. Dreaming, dreaming and more dreaming. Yesterday was decent, although daydreaming led me into dreams this morning which were not good. I was there... Back all those years. I felt it. Now? Gone again. Fleeting. I don't know what to do anymore. The motions, coffee, this, whatever... Losing grip. I never went above and beyond yesterday. Dropped the ball, left the game. I could not find the will nor the direction. Something happened and I don't know if I can get the motivation back. Whatever it is I've been doing all these months is apparently wrong. Dreaming in a netherworld of my own construction. The only thing worse is seeing Kasidy again. Ugh... She is so boring. 8:13am. Morning business is finished. The triumvirate is still weighing me down. All day long, usually. The rare occasion finds me balanced and not worried. I don't know what to think anymore. The fact of the discovery piled on top of all those concerns over the two and related bullshit is really pushing. Lately, the simplest of tasks has become nearly insurmountable. I just can't fucking have this right now, leaving my only option the idea of floating and dreaming within a world of my own craft. The future is narrow and dim. I guess I'll continue to sell things. The one watch I listed yesterday has been pulled due to a lack of any interest after a few hours. I have to be careful. If something valuable does not show serious commitment in a short period of time, I must remove the item for fear of shipping it out for a low price. I can't have that. I may be selling, but they still hold some value for myself. That means keep them. Pause. 10:16am. Routine finished. Now what? This is so very bad now. All of the crap I've been trying to deal with for the last several years is combined. Issues... More. I cannot get rid of anything. Even with the gangsters on both televisions and echoing through the entire house while I cleaned the kitchen, still my head descended. The slightest imagery or reference can set me off. Alone is good most of the time as my days are free, however much of the time I am seeking comfort of a type unrealized. I don't know how much longer I can do this. Back to the fear being outweighed by another. Will discussing everything help? Or will it send me down further, possibly never to rise again? Maybe I should avoid watching the last two seasons of this show. Jamie throws me off and dredges up three different women, one of which I never even new. Her name is close, though... The one I gave her. This is bad. I am seeing less and less good with each passing day. I cannot remain in the netherworld without reminders of reality creeping in and ruining my dreams. The years and situations which continue to drift into me are at odds with my current world. Too far in and I may never return. Not the aforementioned basement, either. I am speaking of losing the ability to relate... Completely. The scene is well-known to me. This series has gone from beginning to end many times and generally brings on a huge appreciation for every aspect of the production. It is amazing. Even the scene and shot in question is enjoyable and wondrous from an acting standpoint. Nearly unknown actors created characters more memorable and fascinating than I imagined prior to experiencing this years ago. The episode is unbelievably well-made. My brain is the only problem. One little reference during the shot brings all manner of difficulty, from my own physical problems to wondering how others feel about the dialog. It is commonplace these days, too. I cannot fight society any more than I can win against progress. Impossible, to the last. So, I see it over and over for years and have the same fucking trouble every time. Well, until recently. I am now much more sensitive to everything which others seem to take in stride. No solution. I just have to fucking sit on it like the rest. To be completely honest, I would not change one iota of this series given the chance. It would lose realism. Not reality, but realism. Reality on television is both a falsehood and oxymoron. Impossible. Me successfully coming to terms with the state of the world is equally so. Time for alcohol. Fuck it. Something of which I am unaware had to have taken place between the mid-zeros or so and now. I was not like this many years earlier. I was relaxed. Oh, there were issues with this or that, but for the most part I dealt with others differently and with an open mind. Now? I am completely closed off and unable to get through the slightest difficulty. This is not good. There must be an engram somewhere buried deep which has been disallowing me to relate or cope. Is everyone like this? To some degree? No answer. Back in time there had to have been a catalyst. All this writing for months and I am no better. More open (sort of), but no better. All of the activities in which I engage day after day have been chiefly built so I can be physically comfortable and possibly more mentally relaxed. Sometimes my ideas work, other times they do not. But I am still here, for whatever it may be worth. Tortured, tormented and frightened much of the time, but here nonetheless. I have no fucking idea of what has kept me out of the ground for the last ten years. Perhaps memories of being with those beautiful souls and wrapped in loving care and the sliver of a chance I can be there again. Dreamy, those trips, and sans attachment. Is that good? Or simply a selfish indulgence? My desires in life are those of a machine; detached, full of endeavors which disregard others, and a deep resolve in maintaining a mysterious existence. Switch for one sentence... I just killed the ancestry subscription and provided a reason with which -- believe me -- no one will wish to take issue. The likelihood of anything similar to those escapes is nil. I honestly cannot expect the same situations to arise beyond the simplicity of quality food, drinks and atmosphere. I am nine years older and no better for wear. Not even fucking close. This downed state has taken its toll on my physical health. The best I can hope for in the future is an all-expenses paid coupling full of bullshit. That is all. The food and booze cannot hold a candle to those with whom I shared the same, so heading into oblivion again does not seem a good idea. I will most likely come out the other side worse off than I am right now. The minuscule upside is the fact that whomever would be hanging on my arm all over the resorts would know nothing of me. Go ahead and laugh. Again, something of which I am completely unaware has ruined my ability to be near another person without falling through to the dark side of everything. It is swallowing me whole. Just go back a dozen entries and compare that crap with the current. This is bad. The taste of Guinness reminds me of more past life scenes than I can possibly describe. Just saying. Wow, my knees are really fucked up from years of working in construction. 4:03pm. Oy fuck damn does this show try to milk as much humor as possible during difficult situations. I will not go into specifics, however, because I cannot extend their efforts in trivializing something of dire importance to my survival. Suffice to say, the entire subject still hits me like a ton of bricks, whether 'humorous' or otherwise. I live with it due to a lack of choice. Society always wins. There is no way around it other than the plan from the early nineties for relocating very far from everyone. More bad. That plan is dead. I listed another auction for one of my knives and finally reworked the printer and ink for photos. Not bad for such a down day. The weather outside is as gloomy as my outlook. The money coming in from selling is a big positive, though. Options are always good, as is empty space left behind as possessions go out the door. I mentioned before that I tend to rid myself of large items and then purchase small. This is good. A little over an hour left to my alone time means I might take care of a few more tasks. I like the kitchen to be polished for dinner preparations, especially with me cooking much more than in the past. With the television hanging on the wall opposite the work space (visible in a large mirror), tooling around the kitchen is ten times more enjoyable than before I took on such a project. I've mentioned it a few times. That single change in the house is one of the best ideas I've had in a long time. Cooking is always fun, but with my shows up there keeping me company, the kitchen is now my favorite room. Moreover, the inside of this home is becoming another type of netherworld -- one outside the sphere of others. I have control here. 'Some of you know I've had nine pictures under my subspecies'. Jesus, Carmine. I love it. Stop.
3-19, 6:02am. Coffee, third show, and cats. The morning time is not bad. I dreamed, but cannot recall now. The visions may return, though, because they feel like they are right behind my eyes. Yesterday was as the first three days of the week. Unproductive. Something happens mid-morning and I run out of ambition. It's as if I already know I cannot amount to much so the inside of me gives up. The computer, watching auctions, whatever... Out of nowhere the feeling hits me and I am paralyzed for the remainder of the afternoon. I've completed little things here and there -- like all of the photographs for the auction listings -- but nothing much more. Last year I remember stating that I would have time to do anything. Now? What the fuck have I done besides watch a few things go out the door? I did rearrange the office and pack up the drums, but honestly that entire project amounted to little more than two hours. What have I been doing? I'm going to lose my shit soon. The truth may be that I have to be slammed by something in order to change or improve the manner in which I handle the days. I don't know, really. Other parts of life and other people have already been slamming me for a fucking year. But if it has to happen, I will be powerless anyway. Maybe my netherworld was the subject of dreams. Something was there. I need to pry it loose and think. Damn. I don't like being teased by a fleeting memory of a dream and then feeling it torn away. The auctions are going pretty well. They have enabled me to dabble in the idea of shrinking my footprint. Big out, small in (or nothing in). I suppose I can look upon the streamlining of possessions as work and some sort of accomplishment. That may help me deal with an entire year seemingly burned away. Trying to reason through things can provide the pathway to a better outlook anyway. I'll try to maintain a positive stance as the next several days roll on by. I still keep the house organized, clean and ready for anything, I guess. Looking at everything I do? Much is accomplished. Maybe I should consider more than just the projects and such. Between that episode of my show mentioned yesterday and a new advertisement on television, my brain tried to come to terms with society yet again. The show is a 'known' and I can deal with it more easily due to the fact that it's fiction. Plus, I am usually alone while it is in the background. The ad was another story. I can understand product improvement and new introductions when some sort of breakthrough is made in technology, but the manner in which they have displayed and advertised the main advantages is just not good. The world keeps advancing toward a blurred line between levels of appropriately rated television (both ads and shows), which means what we see and hear on a daily basis is much different than two or three decades back. This is not good. It represents a massive shift in privacy and sensitivity, along with demonstrating a cold detachment from all which used to be precious. All is becoming generic. Last night I made dinner and took care of business, all the while those thoughts were right beneath the surface. Thank Christ my little netherworld includes dinner and an episode of the show. Without it? I would be in even worse shape right now. I stated it above, but one more time for posterity... I cannot fight the waves. I do not know why such things enter my head and cause problems. All of that material on television has nothing to do with me, yet still I shudder at the thought. There is always some kind of relatable issue connected to the media. I have not felt this level of difficulty in many years. I do recall eighty-nine when something took place in my buddy's truck as we drove north toward my home, but I can't go into specifics. There were three of us seated in his small cab. Conversation, nothing more. But there was a point which helped me to realize that someone had been monitoring their wording for my benefit... Possibly months of it. Well, nothing terrible came of the situation. Nothing at all, really, as I believe time healed the shit. Years later when we moved across the country? Gone. All of it. I did not worry any longer. The point is I cannot recall any actual event rolling over me and causing years of distress. There had to have been something else. I do not fall this far down the hill without something specific. I just can't remember. The television will continue to keep me company, no matter the level of truncation, though. I need something there. Child of the seventies. Heh. The advancement of everything is going to continue no matter what individuals end up completely railroaded by the material. It happens to me, and I suppose the situation could be chalked up to what some friends of mine used to say about hitting certain age milestones: At some point we begin to look back more than forward, and as those innocent moments of the long past begin to contrast what is current, we lament them. The 'good ol' days' may not be exactly that, yet the memories generally are. The 'good' is relative and simply means we are fond of the times. Less people, lower technology requiring us to do many things manually, and taking less for granted. Well, a side effect of the same progress which is pushing the memories away is leniency toward the protection of young people. We have shrunk the world and made everything too easily accessible. I'm getting too philosophical now. The bottom line is shortened attention spans and the need to be constantly entertained. And I am not referring to media in particular, I'm talking about the mind. The entertainment often comes at a high cost, yet few seem to realize it. I have become a product of said entertainment. Eh... Fuck that subject anyway. I dislike almost everything these days, most notably the words emanating from a person's fucking maw. Shut it, please. Nothing coming out to the rest of the world is going to do any fucking good, so stifle your shit. At least I have the good feeling that the house will be mine for hours, and that is going to take place within an hour or so. The kitchen, the garage perhaps, and whatever else. Maybe the show later, I don't know yet. I'll have to keep all this crap in mind, too. Watching the show can cause problems, so my efforts in keeping myself to myself are important. Coming out the other side means success in hiding everything. Until that point in the afternoon, I may list one or two more items and then work on something interesting, whatever that may entail. If I end up a pile of shit like yesterday? So be it. I don't fucking care anymore. I'll do whatever I can and seek whatever I may need.
There is Jessica with those goofy contacts. Again... Why did they do that? I was rather paranoid way back when. The reason is not something I can go into here, though. But I am not like that anymore. I believe the relationship was the reason. It was her, but not her fault, if that makes any sense. All me. Those feelings gave way to other concerns in life, as I am sure they did for others. The incident in the truck has not always been in the back of my mind, either. No one else seemed to have a problem with what took place. Just me. So, even all those years ago I reacted to things differently... As if I was alone in my thinking and consideration. Now? I seem to be even less like those I have known. Either that or they have become cemented in the idea of showing off for the benefit of anyone watching. Clues have led me to doubt such a fact, though. I am tiring of this shit. Maybe I need to push instead of remaining idle. Good idea? Just shove everything at someone to see what happens? I've done it before, in fact. All the shit came flowing out as if a dam broke, and at the time I simply shoved any worry aside in favor of continuing to gush. Afterward? Drunk. Heh. I went downtown and sat for drinks and a meal to get away from everyone. I can to that again, although the feeling of sitting in a nice restaurant is vastly different than a year ago. Too bad, but I floated the idea just in case. An explosion is a distinct possibility, as well, so care must be taken. Oh, there is another option for the aftermath. I can let it go and then cut off all contact with that person for the remainder of life. Nice, right? Eh... Fuck it. Nothing will change anytime soon. Just a thought. No one is going to understand anything. There is no confidence left. I just keep seeing, hearing and thinking of those difficult situations and cannot do anything about it other than continuing here. So far I have solved exactly nothing, but without other ideas this is it these days. I'll just keep typing. I have to take a pause for the cause and get my brain out of bad places right now. Very bad. Head is full. 8:26am. Alone. And Kira is a badass. The netherworld must take over or I will fall off the wagon again. Thinking of those days spent at the dining table with either the tennis matches or the second show on the television brings thoughts of mansions, yachts and escape from the toilsome situation. Actually it was not so toilsome. I spent days at home (like now) and attended school at night. I may have gone into this already. Anyway, the feeling of sitting there with a snack or something to drink reminds me of how many different places I've lived and always found such comfort. Aside from the military (obviously), every location found me in a similar position somehow. The possibility that my netherworld has always been with me no matter what I have called home is very interesting. A sort of cocoon or waffle compartment (heh) in which I can do whatever feels comfortable and, more importantly, familiar. I am referring to a way of life. The netherworld? Maybe. I cannot know for certain. What happens if it is the other world? Like... The one with Jaime and me in a big mansion, all comfortable and isolated from the mass? That could be bad because it points to only one possibility. Ugh... Stop. 3-20, 6:15am. Yesterday was not all bad. The morning work was the best, though. Such a consideration has me worried over whatever future may be in store. Will I remain in the fucking kitchen all the time? Put a twin bed in there? I wish that was funny. Maybe a wagon, right? The wagon of terror. Shame. Sixes and sevens all the fucking time these days. The kitchen is pretty much the only part of the day without those numbers. Wagons east! As I said, not all bad. The kitchen and the short visit were nice. Two of my knives came in the mail as well. They are everything I'd hoped, and more. My two auctions are going well, the housework was no big deal, and a little extra was completed. It should have been a good day, huh? Nope. I said not all bad. There was some. And something is happening this morning as a result of my current state of having become cemented here. A change I had not been expecting, either. The last year has helped to grow those problems inside, two of them becoming much worse than ever before. The other two headed toward the back burner recently. Well, I have been so preoccupied with concern that I had forgotten one other option. So, despite the bad yesterday, those hours all summed overnight to bring a possibility I had not considered. I may be able to work with everything if I can shut off caring for others and focus upon myself. Harsh? Perhaps. That is a big 'if'. The biggest. Right now I don't see it happening. I become overly concerned over the smallest detail sometimes and the idea of leaving others out of the equation may be too much of a leap right now. Just throughout the last two months, nearly everything which graces the television screen has some kind of trouble built in. A year ago I did not see it, or at least not in the same way. Now? All fucked up. So, while shutting people out completely and turning toward myself seems a good idea, I doubt I can make it happen. I'll continue to work on it, though. The fact is my mood can turn on a dime and from one paragraph to the next. No sooner do I come up with an idea and then put it here when the movie on the screen and thoughts of the recent past smack me right back down to the fucking floor. Sometimes I don't know how I lived through the last few months. There were times when my head became so bad that the ultimate exit became illuminated just like in eleven. Back then from one moment to the next I went all the way down and back up again several times. It was exhausting. The same situation is repeating, only now for very different reasons. I may not be equipped to handle those problems anymore. The thought of focusing upon myself and telling everyone else to take a flying leap is great, but in reality I'll back down as quickly as I puffed up. It's just the way I am put together. A person really has to come at me before I can be unkind. Believe me, I've tried many times. The worst part of the present is that I never expected to go through something like this at my age. I figured by now everything would be either understood or unimportant. Apparently I am weaker than I had calculated back when I was strutting my stuff through the gun room with head high. I've lost something important inside and do not know where to begin the search. These months have been like a giant slide with only a slight rake. A slow decline, and when I look backward to see where I was, the slide is falling away up there. No way back. No rise. No hope. I just have to fucking deal with it. And here we are yet again, roughly 4100 words into whatever this mess will be, and no better for the typing. I said the last 'few' months because my mind is exponentially more complex and far worse than just a year ago. I would love to tell everyone to fuck off, but in the end I'll be exactly the same.
There is a small event later which may prove fascinating. A test of sorts, really. I have been considering that idea of people being shut out, and as difficult as it may be, I can still get a little head start through some experimentation. Hopefully I can stick with it and avoid softening. I have to do whatever brings me up, and if that behavior tends to push off other people, so be it. Nothing harsh, just a bit of cold. Light coming up. Definitely a test. In the past I've planned to try similar ideas but they always fell through at some point due to my not paying attention and allowing shit to get out of hand. Too soft. I need to maintain the front line throughout. It is not easy these days, though. I am a nice person and cannot be unkind. This test is going to be very interesting, to say the least. I cannot let slip anything, either. Everything which has been piling up for years continues to plague my patience and always pushes me to speak with someone. Even a small thought here or there can help, yet to do so in the type of situation later is a delicate matter. Care will have to be taken. I realize that much of this says absolutely nothing, but trust me it's important right now. Switch. Enough of that. Nothing will work out how I wish anyway. Lately I have been feeling the draw of the desert, a road trip, or some kind of destination through which I can wander and see the world through my lens. I have to get the hell out of here and see the open road again, preferably where there are not many people. Perhaps Death Valley would work. I've not been there since zero five, although two years prior to that was the trip which changed my outlook. Anyway, aside from the Valley, there are other ideas floating inside which could bring me out to the middle of fucking nowhere, just the way I used to like it. The way I see it now, if I am going to sit here day after miserable day and dream of all the shit which is now impossible, I may as well get the fuck out and feel the same in a nicer location. Years ago I had few options due to no car. Well, not anymore. It's right outside. I have to go somewhere, and soon. One of my auctions is out of control. This knife is apparently valuable to some and has received tons of bids at only halfway through the run. I was not expecting such a price. The other knife is languishing. I have one on the hook which I'll grab when the time is right, but other than that there are no prospects. I would like to continue selling and watch the balance rise. Considering how much cash we are about to hand the company for lateral replacement, I'd like to build the reserve back to where it was. It will take time, but there is no way around it right now. The auctions are a good thing. Today is going to be like many other Saturdays. Some work, lots of thinking, brunch at a local restaurant, and then more thinking and whatever else I can do around here to keep my head on straight. I keep thinking of the lyrics to 'Let it Snow' and the idyllic scene played out within. The song paints a strong picture of those bygone holiday gatherings I mentioned here several times. They feel as if they never really took place due to so much time passing and my life being radically different now. Last season I did my best to bring the holiday feeling into this very living room, too. In some ways it worked, having the tree up early and decorating so much, yet still the world appeared strange despite my red and green lighting and movies. This time of year typically had me yearning for the onset of fall so the work was eased through cooler weather and football gatherings either at home or the bar. None of it exists any longer. All gone, and it hurts. I suppose the changes were destined to happen because nothing can go on forever. Looking at the remaining hours of this day is becoming rough. The brunch idea is hours away, we have an appointment at the phone store later, and in between will be me wandering the house and working on my usual crap. The netherworld is still in my head, pretty damned deep now. It contains so many impossibilities that I am having a hard time keeping my brain from sending the rest of me further down the slide. I switched movies and now there are far less males on the screen at a given moment. Media is one smidgen of control. If necessary, I can really slam the television and put on something completely safe. As I have stated many times, even while alone the trouble looms like an extra shadow bent upon causing heartache. With others I end up pushing the fear away in favor of avoiding the other fear. The whole thing is ridiculous. My netherworld holds none of that because it is focused upon either the past or a dream, the latter being a place I can never inhabit yet one I need beyond belief or rational thought. Jaime is in there, and at this point in time she is no longer a woman or some kind of machine, but an idea. The world seems to move with me as I go through the motions of life, all the while just beyond my fingertips. Every part of reality is becoming unacceptable, while everything within my dream world is impossible. If you have the fucking answer, I'd love to hear it. Wow, Michael J. Fox is actually taller than his costar, Gabrielle Anwar, yet still shorter than his wife. Hmm. He is a giant on the screen, though... Always. I even have trouble watching the food network these days. How fucked up is that? Almost time to go do something other than this. Sun is shining. Brunch may not happen. I am not feeling it right now. That may change, though, given whatever this morning is going to show me. I have to move some shit around because the action always helps. No beer, though. I don't want to be loosened too much if we do go to the restaurant. I'll turn into something regrettable later. The garage is there waiting, too. I can bounce between inside and outside for a while and seek some things that can go out the door. I also have a bit of dry cleaning. Hmm... Maybe headphones will help. If I decided against the brunch or lunch trip, the day will be freed up until the phone appointment this afternoon. On the other hand, canceling the restaurant may leave me with more free time at home than I want. I just don't know. I'm here all the time, every fucking day, so one would think getting out for a while is a good thing, but understand that after all these months the idea of going out causes anxiety sometimes. The mood has to be right or I will end up worse off than in the beginning. Damn, I wish I could make up my mind definitively. And I turned off the food network. Fuck me. Unbelievable. [Aside: I was reading about the Sopranos and seeing there still exists the debate of what took place at the end. I will not reveal anything, but people need to understand that NOTHING took place at the credits. The fucking show ENDED, for crying out loud. Get over it already.] My mood is dwindling now. Perhaps canceling everything is a good idea. I will be unpleasant. Eh... I don't know. Giving up the idea of ever being happy is having an effect upon how I see women. While watching 'The Kitchen' a few years ago, I wanted to jump Katie. Over time my image of her changed to appreciation for cuteness and her prowess with cooking. Now? I barely pay attention to her other than the goofy outfits she often wears. And then there are the ads in which some of the actors are fucking stunning, and again I am paying much less attention to the beauty and more to other aspects of the campaign. The movie with Michael and Gabrielle earlier contained a scene of her singing in a very tight spandex-type of catsuit which showed every fucking curve on that woman, I swear. Yes, she is very beautiful, but when I saw her on the stage gyrating and looking stunning, my head did not consider her appearance as it would have last summer. I glanced up from this screen and felt a sudden loss, as if nothing like that will be in front of me ever again. The depression is taking over any chance of feeling desire on the heels of my obsession. I have nothing against all those women, though. They have nothing to do with me, nor I them. They are people. I don't know what I am. One certainty is I have felt the change coming this past week and now it seems to be in full swing. I suppose time will tell how the end result will come about. My netherworld contains not one single woman anyway, only an ill-conceived dream.
9:04am. My negative state is growing as the morning wears on. Several individual issues have been both in my brain and on the damned television. I have been relegated to the fucking news due to so many problems. The first movie had its moments, yet still there was too much. The second one was funny -- mostly thanks to Michael who is always fantastic in every role -- but still the imagery and situational analysis drove me to change the channel. And then the capper, the food network pushed my head south until I switched to the news. This is fucking pathetic and will now likely have a dire effect upon the rest of the day, including brunch, should it actually take place. Considering the speed at which I am falling, the likelihood is diminishing at an alarming rate. Terminal velocity, really. The worst part of this entire fucking situation is that I am the cause, yet again. And I feel helpless against the vast and overpowering tide. Damn it. Sheltering in place, you say? I am becoming the champion. If I could only find a way to explore with an objective opinion. I suppose the housework and whatever seems appealing are going to have to keep me going today. I'm accustomed to most of it, though not when everything hits at once. This is rare even for me. Maybe I'll nest like I did last spring. Heh. Broken inside. Something badly damaged. The tiniest reference causes a tailspin. Two has pushed the other three so far back that I cannot even begin to understand how or why. Worsening, with a barren outlook. The fucking food network, of all channels. Pathetic. Netherworld... The only saving throw against reality. Can I go in there? I am tiring of sitting here trying to reason through anything. And I don't just mean this morning, the whole of my existence has been exactly the same since last year. Morning routine with coffee, this, and then preparations for getting her out the door, more of this sometimes, then the housework (the kitchen damned-near my favorite place in the world right now), lunch, and then I lose it completely. Oh, I've worked on other things in the past and improved both my head and the house, however lately I have been held down as if the biggest Sumo wrestlers ever are laying across my torso. Helpless, a lack of strength both inside and out, and then the worries. Most days I just sit here and browse the phone or computer for hours until the evening is apparent. At least then I can go back to the kitchen and cook. If my life has literally been boiled down to working in the kitchen and then having dinner with cocktails, I am fucked for sure. And I am sick of feeling this way. No matter which way I try to turn, those visions are right there snagging my shirt and pulling me back from any positive directions. I cannot stop them, nor can I rationalize anything. My life has become a fucking tennis match between two opponents: A mass of issues and harsh memories on one side sparring with what little is left of my ambition. Well, guess which is winning. I am seeing the 'nether' in netherworld. It is my creation, yet as impossible as everything else necessary for my happiness. I have to continue remaining at a distance from everyone. It is the only way. No matter what kind of situation or activity is involved, something will invariably cause distress. That is tough, because I will not run from the scene anymore. I will remain there, full of worry and dying inside. One fear... Remember? The strength required in maintaining my composure during such events is crippling. Almost time to get the hell away from this exploration, or whatever the fuck I am doing here these days. I suppose the garage and office can be the focus for the time being. My desire to be more 'compact' is still pretty damned strong these days. The unfortunate truth is that I cannot pare myself down as far as I'd like. It is unrealistic, honestly. A certain amount of crap is necessary for carrying on with daily life, at least as long as I am in this house. And I don't see anything different on the horizon, either. I'll just have to do my best in ridding myself of those items which are completely unnecessary. Right now they are many. Big stuff out, smaller stuff in, I guess. Or nothing in. Shit, I don't know anymore. I'll do something, though. Ugh. The upside is still in view, believe it or not. The physical comfort which has become dire to my existence still is available. I need it and can count on a measure each day. The early morning and evening are best right now. Maybe I can work on whatever the fuck looks appealing and focus upon the comfort being a reward of sorts. I'm sure others do the same. It makes sense, right? Like the payoff of the work week being the weekend. Today can be a step in such a direction. One thing which I have shut off completely is helping. The idea of seeking assistance of some flavor and bouncing myself off another person is just not going to happen. I have a lot of experience with the process, too. Nothing good ever came of it because I have the innate ability to railroad and leverage pretty much anyone sitting across from me. The same will happen again on top of even more bullshit concern over having revealed what may be the most ridiculous thoughts and fears ever. Well, at least I have been decisive about it. That is something. And with that crap, I am done here for now. 286. She is inside."
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