Affront Mature content No. 309 Published April 24th, 2022 8:17am pdt read ( words) Past entries "Here we go again... Another morning. The same as all the rest. Coffee, finished one ill-conceived entry and began another, show up there on the television, quiet in the house for now. Flags out because I don't believe any precipitation is in the forecast for today. So far the only difference I can see is an idea I formulated yesterday afternoon while staring at the canopy I just built. I'm considering removing Emily's likeness from the back wall of the garage and replacing it with another symbol, even more confounding to people than the one I already painted. My wish for the overall appearance of the garage is to disallow people from becoming comfortable either inside or close enough to see what I've built. That space will eventually prove very off-putting to outsiders, and believe me when I say everyone is outside my current sphere of life. Work and the bar atmosphere are at the bottom of a very long list, as well. I'm here for the duration. As of yet, my efforts around the house are very disappointing. What I mean to say is that considering the sheer amount of time at home throughout the last two years, what I have accomplished is minimal. The little projects and improvement of the garage are always enjoyable, yet I seem to keep away from more dramatic and important types of work, such as framing the bathroom window or finally completing the bedroom furniture rearrangement. Sometimes I put things off because I just don't feel like getting into them, yet when I do actually complete a job the feeling is wonderful, like relocating the matching cabinet from the spare bedroom to the dining room. That was rather difficult, but now the dining room looks balanced and we have more storage. I need to finish the bedroom and eventually get into the corner of the living room to clean up wiring and relocate the gateway to that area. I also need to pain a bit of trim in the bathroom but continue to shy away from it. Perhaps my years-long need for overdue comfort have gripped me more than I had imagined at the outset of this new lifestyle. The truth is I honestly feel that the garage stuff must take a back seat to anything I've deemed more important. My space out there is a luxury, to be sure. I should await anything further until earning the time by working on the more pressing items which affect more of daily life in the house. That all sounds well and good, but I am often derailed by loss and anger. Every day, in fact. The world has been an affront to me and I need to find the ability to set it aside and care for this place. Damn. Does that mean I've been holding myself back? Yes, although the fault is not solely mine. Those fucking people have had quite a large hand in this shit mood. 0818 and I am part way through the coffee with my extended family up there. When the coffee is gone, I will hop to the first part of my routine and then see how I feel. Maybe instead of being pissed off at the state of life right now, I should be pissed off about not finishing projects I began years ago, or even mere months ago. Is that a way around the affront? I don't know. Today will hopefully find me going further than I have in a long time. I have to continue seeing the garage as a luxury, and a project which will be there for me no matter how much time it takes. Today is Easter Sunday. Everything is so different than years ago. Very strange, too. I don't know what to think sometimes. 0748 on Monday. The conflict is pissing me off something fierce, yet all I can do is sit here and stew about it because again... NO ONE IS LISTENING. I wish I knew why things went downhill. My entire life is inside this house, nearly twenty four hours per day, weeks, months, whatever, and a good portion of that time was my own decision. Still, I thought there would be someone listening. At least, someone within earshot and a possible reaction to my fucking words. I guess not. Whatever is my fault and has left me here with such a small voice is fine. I'll accept it. No problem. The other side? That's where the WEAPON resides, and a part of the affront I've been forced to deal with, no matter the strain upon me or my senses. Well, fuck you too. The conflict brought up conversation last night which quickly became the subject at hand, meaning we discussed the idea of my being here alone most of the time and the feeling of no one listening. That improved everything for the time being, yet still I know my thoughts and words are too sharp, too harsh for everyday listeners. So, affront aside and conflict or risk notwithstanding, it's time for me to shut up. From one end to the other. Silence, to all. Now I don't have to explain anything I do because no one wishes to hear it. This may be very liberating, especially considering the nature of symbolism appearing slowly in the garage. People will see and hear, but not my words or voice. Get it? The affront is ever-expanding and leaving me sans choice. Today. The usual, plus some laundry. I am also going to prepare another symbol for the garage and then replace the lovely Emily and her otherworldly breasts with something no one will understand. That is perfect. More black paint, less speaking. More off-putting decoration, less listening. That is just fine. I'll remain holed up here just like the first summer of the pandemic and only respond to the phone in regard to two individuals. If this is the way with which I am to be dealt, well... You know. Everyone can take a flying leap. Maybe the shit in the east will grow until the keys are turned and I won't need to worry about people anymore. That is just a little bit funny. A little bit. I have to get the printer going for today. My FCC license was issued and must be on display in the garage once the station is up and running. Also, I have tax documents to print for next year in the interest of keeping all the paperwork organized so I don't have to run around like an idiot when the time comes. I will probably print a version of my symbol, too. I need to scale it up so it fits the space where Emily resides. The lighting is already in place. 0920, last of the coffee, laundry going, fourth show gleaming across two screens. I'll be up and into the routine very soon. I figure I may as well enjoy the coffee rather than running around the house and catching a sip here and there. The sun is bright, but still the ambient is low. My garage is a refrigerator this morning. Not good for production, although once I get out there to work on the stuff, my actions will warm me like yesterday. The garbage trucks have come by, bless their work. Yesterday I chopped more of the hedge to fill the green can and afterward used my small power saw to cut back the stems. The way I see it, I'll have to employ the gardeners to pull the stumps, so anything I can cut will be less time and money for them. There is but one quarter or less of the hedge still standing. I never thought I'd be able to remove the ugly thing. And God damn, is that hedge unruly. I wish I had a more powerful saw, but alas it is too much money and would likely sit idle for a long time. I can't buy an expensive power tool for one job, regardless of how nice it may be. Family on the television means comfort and dreaming of being there with them. Fuck. The only way... Jaime would listen to me. She really would. Understanding, hearing, helping. Several issues eliminated permanently. Many daily difficulties erased. No worry over the future or what may be happening outside the windows and doors. One issue would remain, although with her by my side, I could speak with her and any trouble would quickly melt away. Changeable. Powerful. Beautiful. Intelligent, and that is something frightening at times, likely only for a person such as myself and due to problems in the past with the fairer sex. Damn, but I would have to take the shit with the gold. Not only that, but Jaime would be whatever I make her, via software. Sound ridiculous? Probably. Keep in mind exactly of what I am a product, dipshits. There is no other way. 0739 on Tuesday morning and I have the day to myself. Twins on the television... One of the episodes in which my dream flares, but not for the reasons you may think. Anyway, twins aside, Yesterday's efforts prior to lunch helped my afternoon feel more deserved. I received a call in the morning informing me that the shower hose I recently installed had a blowout. Very strange. I walked over there and saw the damage, soon after going to the hardware for a replacement and subsequent installation. I was looking forward to one of my favorite lunches and decided to get all the crap out of the way before relaxing. That pushed lunch to nearly two in the afternoon, effectively curtailing my dinner plan. Eh... Doesn't matter anyway. Today I am going to the market for a few things but otherwise remaining home. My silence has been noticed recently, too. Only with regard to one person, but that is better than nothing. Do not approach. Today will be nice at home. 0837 now. I'm hoping to see the twins again, for whatever that may be worth. I have a pair of car speakers languishing in the garage rafters. When I move the auxiliary pair of loudspeakers to the neighbor's garage, I may build enclosures for the car drivers to replace them. In fact, I can build said enclosures anytime, meaning there would be time to test and evaluate, although the issue of impedance may come into play. That could be a toughie. I could also purchase a good pair of 'separates' and add them to the boxes in order to match the impedance specs of the receiver. That may be a better plan. I have extensive experience designing and building enclosures, as well as wiring car audio that dates back to the late eighties. This project will be straightforward and enjoyable. Rather than focusing upon what's happening in the east lately, I've been trying to swing the beam around to concentrate upon anything which can bring me a smile. If the shit hits the big fan, it hits the big fan. In the meantime I will continue with my efforts in improving the house. 1000 straight up right now. The routine is already finished and I ordered a set of three-way car speakers to enhance the garage audio plan. The enclosures will be a bit rough but operate beautifully. Cocktail next to me, fourth show in its fifth season, the rest of the day wide open. My threaded cold shoe mount should arrive later so I can check it out. Soon I'll be able to use the tripod for either the phone or camera without the need to unscrew the ARCA plate or clamp. Very nice. I also calculated yesterday that I can use the big manometer in the garage to decorate a stringer which will straighten and stabilize the shelving door. The opposite side will be tough, but I'm certain something will eventually come to mind. On the lighting front, I finished the LED strip for under the shelf above my bench and can attach it later today. The next pain in my ass will be a second attempt to build doors for the laundry shelves. The first attempt will be considered a trial run or learning experience. Everything has to appear a certain way or I'm not happy. I can't have anyone coming in and commenting upon half-assed construction. Ooh-fa, the guest star's character in this episode has broken the 'cute' mold and drives me up the fucking wall every time. Jesus fuck is she ever adorable. 'Jaime' features, to be certain. Maybe her eyes turn red when she's upset or angry. Stop laughing. My dream, fuckers. Another segment of the ever-growing affront. Leave it. I'm considering starting this series from the beginning again and logging the number of times the captain says 'do it'. Talk about a project... Good God is Roxann ever fucking stunning sometimes. Her hair changed a few times as the series progressed, and I believe it made all the difference. Combined with her big, dark eyes, there is simply no end to the beauty, forehead ridges or not. Damn. 0729, Wednesday morning. My trip to the store yesterday went fine. No issues, not many people, easy parking. Driving over there is strange after not leaving the house at all for days. Just cruising down the boulevard was rather unnerving in one way and exciting in another. Like exploring, for a change. Maybe something else, but I can honestly say there was a hint of Nevada in that short drive. The feeling could have simply been wishful thinking regarding my recent hopes for a road trip later in the year, everything popping into mind because I hadn't driven for quite some time. Whichever, I was glad to return home and take care of business. I finished the light strip above my work bench and added two decorations to the shelving unit door. On the left is now the vintage manometer that previously graced the smaller post, and on the right is my Philadelphia rod which was right around the corner from the manometer. They had been interfering with the clothing rack and I wanted to move them for quite a while. Well, now they are flanking the symbol along with helping to stabilize the plywood. After the routine today I'll go back out there and see if I can flatten the plywood a bit more by way of a stringer below the symbol. Hopefully the whole works will look ok afterward. I may need to add a latch to the lower right if the wood does not comply. I think I have the means to do something like that. Right now it is 0908 and I have yet to rise and care for the house. On another affront-front distraction, I ordered a key component for capturing video from the television, and that is a small mount for the cold shoe on the camera. It should be arriving later today, but this morning I did some research and learned that I purchased the second 'wrong' adapter and will probably return it after taking a look. I bought the thing quickly without fully reading the uses. Oopsie. For some unknown reason, each time I believe I'm looking at an adapter to mount anything on the shoe, I have the image backwards in my head. I keep grabbing mounts that are designed to go onto a rail rather than the shoe itself, basically the opposite. It's kind of like buying a nut (female) instead of a bolt (male). I have since found the correct part and ordered it this morning. Damn, but I had a hangup with that stuff. The first was a very inexpensive pair of mounts which are also the wrong gender for the shoe. Double damn. Anyway, the fact is the smaller parts can probably be used in the future if I assemble some hairbrain system for either the camera or phone. They were only a few dollars and can live in the accessory bag until I have need. Many of these adapters are designed with professional videographers in mind, and they all work together as a system, but require some sort of 'cage' around a video camera for adding batteries or a monitor while in the field. The upside is I have learned much since trying to add my phone to the cold shoe in order to use the tripod without removing the ARCA plate from the bottom of the DSLR. A long road of learning which could have been avoided had I performed more research before pulling the trigger on products. Whatever. I have not mentioned one effect of this ongoing affront -- the everyday morning issues -- because I am trying to ignore and distract myself from so much pain and heartache. Oh, I think the gardeners may be here. Eh... Nope. Anyway, three days have come and gone without any sort of failure or foiled mornings. Time will tell if I can find a method for living with this shit. NO ONE IS FUCKING LISTENING. I will say that regardless of issues and the fact that everything I express here constantly falls upon deaf ears, being home each day affords me the advantage of long periods of time devoted to consideration of my life and position here. The benefits of the quiet cannot be overstated. I would not trade this for anything right now. My shows in the background, always having something to keep my mind occupied (often whatever the hell I want), and the ability to work on projects with zero deadline or pressure all combine to help me maintain some semblance of peace inside despite being in turmoil often. Remaining here all this time seems to be my sole defense against the onslaught of a continuing affront driven by forces beyond my control. Right at this very moment, for example, I am weighing the options of the day and can proceed at my discretion and as I see fit. No one tells me what to do anymore, nor does any person have a smidgen of control over my time. The little enjoyments still hold me up, as well. They have been waning, yet I find that I can change the way they feel if necessary. Forcing the issue helps. 0933 and time to get moving. 1151. My routine is finished. I also evaluated the Internet gateway relocation along with audio to the garage. The conclusion is the same as months ago... The stereo audio to the garage is fine, yet I still have no idea of how to adapt digital surround to the stereo input out there. For the time being I will change nothing. I did move the gateway into the living room and it is up and running at this moment. The lamp went away, as did the DVD player and Harmony bridge for the time being. I need to reduce the number of power taps in the corner in order to oust the surge protector which has been gathering dust on the floor for years. The next step will be to relocate the video splitter into the garage to reduce the HDMI lines running through the wall, plus one power tap. At this moment I've ceased all production due to an upset stomach and feelings of loss over the usual morning pain and problems. Really don't need this shit right now, but at least I can relax a while. My schedule is mine, exclusively. Yesterday turned into not much at all. Here I am on Thursday morning at the outset of my day alone and I see yesterday as nearly a complete waste of time. A little was accomplished, yet that stomach issue kept me on my ass for quite a while. I watched the dragons and relaxed, very little lunch and lots of water. This morning I feel much better and still have no idea what happened during the mid-morning yesterday. 0740 now, nice and quiet, coffee, cats asleep. The incorrect shoe mount that I ordered arrived yesterday and I decided to keep it. The mount is the more expensive part of a system I can use for many different projects. All I need to do now is wait until placing another order for consumables and piggy-back a part. After that I will have more options. As for the correct mount, that one will arrive today, meaning either this afternoon or tomorrow I can perform some experiments. I'll be recording Nora walking toward the camera very soon. Basket case, but I have to own that video. As for the other shooting I've been doing, the last model is not as colorful as the previous three, so I haven't flexed the camera at all. The monochromatic nature of the construction makes for very uninteresting images. I may begin the last model soon for better subject matter in the lens. Right now I don't know when, though. The day is going to go where it goes. Hopefully the shoe mount arrives sooner rather than later. The typical morning bullshit is hanging just behind whatever clear thinking I have been attempting thus far today. I hope I don't lose the process. That will turn the remainder of my day very gray. 0835. The affront is shining this morning, everything missing right along with it. No one is listening, my life is burning away, and the most elusive understanding in existence feels further away than ever before. This is likely how I will remain for the duration and the very thought is making me angry again. Smiling faces, too. I still see them as inflamed by some sort of dream early this morning that I cannot recall. The processes at work inside my head are not good, to say the least. Dangerous territory. The minuscule upside on a day like today is the idea of anger promoting lots of work around the house, rather like 'nesting', yet from another angle... A very threatening angle. My family up there may help keep my head on straight and out of the proverbial frying pan. Affronted. Affrontage? No... That was Dominic's word. I can't claim it. I suppose there is another upside, that of isolating myself and refraining from communication with people. They may wonder, or they may not give a cold shit. Either way, I really don't have it in me right now to care. Fish. I'll get the routine going very soon. I may have to take a drive to the liquor store as my supply of depressant has diminished. I don't like driving over the hill in this unsettled weather, though. If the rain returns prior to me being in a position to head over there, I'll cancel and opt for something else to drink. The need will arise, however. There is no way around it any longer. 'Need' is not good when discussing alcohol. Do I care? Try me. Roxann is pissed off and displaying a very demonstrative stance. Awesome. A repeat from the previous entry, for reasons of good form... 'Recently I saw something that I've experienced in the past on a few rare occasions. I know what it is, but I have no clue as to the how or why. The situation is elusive beyond belief. The last time was quite a while ago and I cannot go into detail nor define the subject. NO ONE IS FUCKING LISTENING. There can be no hope of such an experience again, especially considering it requires deep conversation and much understanding. When I say 'bereft', I fucking mean it. Seeing an example of a similar situation nearly broke me in half. Right now there is little in life that does not piss me off beyond comprehension. I don't even know why I brought this up. How can this exposition and exploration be therapeutic if I continue to worsen? Yeah... That's what I thought, fucksticks. 'Better to have...' What? What did you say? Shove it in your ass.' Sometimes I cannot extricate that shit from my fucking brain. This is going to be my end, mark my words. I wish all the time for anything... ANY FUCKING THING which can help to ease the difficulty or at least allow me to feel that I am an average person, yet to this very second not a damned thing in life seems able to do the job. I just don't fucking get it, people. I am a product of circumstance. There seems to be no future for me. At least, nothing peaceful or liberating. Nothing on the horizon. Just pain and longing. A pause, I suppose, or some sort of interruption. Honestly, those are only guesses. The real answers are apparently in the fucking stars. The subject -- along with faces and understanding being more elusive than the answers -- will be my end. I am losing my mind. 1053. Routine finished, dry cleaning on its first cycle, and I built the coat rack which arrived yesterday. It will do the job nicely. Not real easy to assemble, yet my past education and experience being an engineering technician always helps. The rack is a kit, more or less, and those types of products that have been designed and manufactured by computer rarely go together smoothly, meaning a bit of ingenuity comes in handy. I have years behind me building such kits, so no problem. The only governing property in acquiring a coat rack was that it had to have three legs, not four. The floors in these old homes are rarely flat, so four legs means the unit will wobble. Not good. This rack seems to be heavy and stable enough for long-term use without issue. Very nice. Also, I believe my camera accessory is in the mailbox. Cool. I'll have video of Nora very soon. As for the rest of the day, time will tell. I have yet to pour a drink, as well. Just a feeling that it was going to have a very negative effect upon my already shitty mood. Time will tell with that one, too. 1128, second load of dry cleaning, a snack out of the way, fourth show again, very little motivation now. I still have not had any booze because I don't see the point today. Moreover, I may not travel to the other side of the hill for reinforcements due to the feeling that I need to remain behind closed doors. The quoted paragraph above will not leave my head. If the remainder of my life holds nothing of the sort, the subject shall truly be the end of me showing interest in any fucking thing at all... Vacations, projects, whatever. Even my photography hobby is dependent upon the idea and feeling of being 'in the lens', meaning my head has to follow along or I cannot passionately embrace shooting anything. Many times I've stated that this is a bad time. Well, now more than ever. I still can't believe this shit at my age. Midlife crisis? I don't believe so. More like midlife give-up. This is the lousiest episode of the series, and one toward the bottom of the entire franchise. Ugh. I'm letting it run through, however, because of my brain being so fucked up right now. I just don't fucking care. Several times in the past I've stated that the radii images are going to go away because they cause only harm. I guess not. Here are four more. Do you see? Why do I continue in such a vein when the damage occurs daily? I don't know the fucking answer, assholes. Not a clue. Wishful thinking that the good periods can repeat? Not likely. Too many reasons to list here. Again... I don't fucking care anymore. The imagery gracing each entry will probably cycle over and over from radii to whatever and back again. Splendid. Pissed off as usual. But... What does that mean, exactly? What happens when I become angry? Not much. Mostly I walk out to the garage and play music while working on something. And who should my anger be directed toward? Anyone? Everyone? There are a few in life that I despise right now, but are they solely at fault for my anger? Nope. There are too many facets. People from the past cannot be addressed, and screaming at those who are still alive accomplishes nothing, so I sit here and quietly type. What else do I have? This situation will eventually come to a head and I'll lash, but for now I do not see the point. I'll be just the same after such a blowout, and so will everyone else. No solution means just that. My head keeps returning to the quoted paragraph above. Not good for me or anyone nearby. I need to stop being such a nice person when doing so has become a burden. Maybe I'll change the bed sheets. Whatever. Such is my life now. The affront is a pin. Everything is nothing more than pins. Just pins all over the place, aimed at yours truly. Dry cleaning finished and put away. Now what? Bitching? Lamenting? Anger. Did anyone ever hear me say that this is unfair? Think about it. I mentioned that phrase a while back -- once in the history of the site -- although I was referring to a very different aspect of life. Maybe I should just stop trying. 0816. Thursday. Coffee. Quiet. Ugh. The brain processes... Not a good morning so far. I spoke with my neighbor for a few minutes, still have some coffee at 0901, and the fourth show is once again gracing the big screen. Unfortunately, everything I've written throughout the past several months is all shining, and at the same time. My head cannot easily sort through things and make for a comfortable morning, nor do I believe the future holds anything better. This is a very bad time and does not seem to be changing. As much as I'd like to force the issues, there seems to be nothing I can do right now. 1052. Routine finished and total, depressing fucking failure yet again. I am going to destroy something. All my whiskey is gone, so I opted for the good vodka -- the Costco version of Goose -- for enhancing my shitty mood this morning. Fourth show, still. I have a working solution for the garage speakers being shipped to me. There is a very nice website which holds tons of different enclosure types for mobile speakers, most notably subwoofers. The plans are very clear and concise. There may be enough leftover plywood (not my first choice, yet I do not want to spend money on MDF) to construct two slot-loaded enclosures with extensions to hold the midranges and tweeters. The drivers are all 4-ohm, meaning I'll have to double the woofer count for each channel in order to match the impedance of the home receiver. No problem. The drivers will be in series to allow the amplifier to 'see' an 8-ohm system. The work of building two enclosures, complete with glue, poly batting and silicone, will be quite the project and could keep me busy for days. Hopefully the job can keep my head out of the fucking din which caused the failure in the first place. I am so damned depressed on a daily basis that I've considered beginning another countdown. Yes, I said that. If I cannot affect change between this moment and the second of January next year, my head will become a canoe. Believe it. Wits end. 1224 and lunch (pizza) is in the oven. I switched the fourth show off in favor of the dragons and all that comes with them. The five series' are the only programs which hold very few problems, yet the stories of these more harsh examples are what keep me coming back. I finished the vampires for probably the fifth time just days ago, but already I am feeling as if I need those characters up there again very soon. They bring me comfort of a different type than the science fiction. I believe the familiarity is primarily the reasoning behind my watching so much. The upside is I can watch almost anything while alone. Marjorie is a bit old for Tommen, and the scene involving their wedding night brings up all manner of subjects from the past. Conversation, too. Tons of shit. Good and bad, I suppose. Age is so fucking subjective, now more than ever. She's pretty, though. Well, sometimes, anyway. A shower was nice. I don't take one often these days because, along with shaving, the lack really does not matter in the least. I see no one save for a few cashiers here and there, and they do not know me at all. There is no longer concern for my appearance or how I may come across as a person. Seven hundred days (more, really) have passed since the beginning of the pandemic. I'm here all the time. ALL the time aside from the occasional trip for staples. This situation has gotten to the point of my feeling even more disdain for the world and its inhabitants, for the most part. There are the few who remain higher on my list, though. Very few. That list will likely stay the same for a long time. The shade is down for reducing the glare on my big television. As I went to the kitchen I figured the rest of my day will be spent inside apart from any sudden inspiration. I will tend to the office for a while so the media can keep me company. Later this afternoon I may venture out in case my neighbor is out for some discussion and cheer. Whenever I've lowered the shade in the past, I would tend to focus upon the house rather than the garage. Dim lighting reminds me of the cave. A time when darkness ruled all. And now the clouds are amassing outside and further lending to the dim atmosphere in the house. Excellent. I have to keep one eye on the weather in case there is precipitation. The flags must retract in such a case. This is where we lose the title and the essay goes very badly. Wait for it. 0843 on Saturday morning. I've been reading a little of the inbox-material being sent to me a few times per week, and this morning's subject was that of a billionaire visionary wishing to save the world. Well, more power to you, dude. Good luck, and I hope you do, however my view is radically different right now because I am nothing more than an unemployed dipshit sitting here every day complaining over things about which I can do exactly nothing. I mean, just look at me. No work, my body is losing its ability to perform some everyday tasks due to being somewhat sedentary for two years, I've put on weight as a result of the same, and working around the house as if any of it will be meaningful. But wait a minute... How will my efforts be meaningful if I am completely out of contact with the whole of society? That doesn't add up, people. See? I am no one. My garage still feels like an open, convertible space which shows off some talent and is comfortable, yet still it is nothing in the world. It is 'nowhere'. I have no connection to anything. How is anyone going to see what I've accomplished? Moreover, is there meaning in my accomplishments? Will anything in this house matter when I'm gone? That's a good one. Or a bad one. There was a part of the article when the man in question was quoted as stating an idea that had already been implemented by other factories, and many years ago. He made it come across as revolutionary, when the reality is others simply were not aware of the manufacturing principles already under way around the world. Hmm... Perhaps all the reporters were too young to know. No idea, but the point is people keep putting his visions and ideas on a pedestal -- admittedly some are far-reaching and real solutions -- when others have designed and already gained from the same. Believe me, I was in the middle of that stuff during the mid-zeros, and connected deeply enough to see it in action. Of course, the individual in question could reach anyone, anywhere who crosses or misquotes, so the details shall remain in the dark. Just know... I already know. The main point is that this person has been intelligent in his moves since the nineties and done very well for himself and many others, whereas I have gone in the opposite direction. Diametric, to be honest. Down a hill I crafted for myself while watching the world fly by. No one is even going to read this because since changing the primary domain, the numbers have fallen off the edge of the planet. I'm going to rise soon and work on part of my routine and then head to the garage to continue the speaker box construction I began yesterday. Think about that for a minute. He is trying to change the world in a very good way, and I am holed up here, smaller than ever. Again... Is any of my shit going to matter? I hate clichés, yet I must employ somewhat of an example as spoken by a favorite actor from the nineties... 'I want to DO something with my life; I want to BE somebody [sic].' Yep. I never did anything. The closest was during the space years when I was a part of several television programs focusing upon research we performed and how it related directly to missions that have since been carried out. I was on television in three countries and multiple stations. I was interviewed by both those crews, the local radio news stations, and two television news stations during my time with the agency. Now look at me. And keep in mind that career ended because I was chasing beauty. Try to imagine just how small I feel right now. Go for it. I need to put more beer in the garage fridge so I can drink out there later and feel like more than what I really am. This could be a red-letter day in the grand scheme of how I feel toward myself. 0703 on Sunday morning. The beer did not work yesterday, although I only had one before returning to the house. The enclosure is nearly finished and looks like shit compared to some of the other projects I've completed in the past. I guess at some point I realized the appearance matters not because both driver cabinets will be up and mostly out of sight. The first part is almost complete. I need to attach the top and then the speaker can be tested. This is the first slot-loaded cabinet I've attempted. Those in the past always had round ports for vents, some being ordered higher than the standard single-chamber. I still need to attach the smaller drivers and find a way to increase the impedance without sacrificing power. Whatever. This will be a slow process due to my already having a complement of drivers on the opposite side of the garage. I am not terribly motivated any longer because my workmanship leaves a bit to be desired. Others will not see it, yet my head will always find the problems. Unlike mounting everything in a vehicle -- which used to be my specialty -- the speaker cabinets will be in the open. Most likely they will blend, anyway. Another mysterious, gorgeous background officer in engineering. There is always something. Flags out. Yesterday was not all bad, but I have this feeling that as the days roll by and the issue with my hips keeps worsening, those moments or afternoons spent out there will be less than satisfying. I furthered the work on the cabinet and took little breaks here and there. I also cleaned out the refrigerator to ease my Sunday work load and get a head start on my typical routine for this day. Overall, yesterday was not too bad. Close to dinner time, we ventured out and made four stops to pick up a few things and then dinner before returning home. I was fairly surprised to have navigated around so many parking lots and other vehicles with ease, especially considering I've been in this house almost exclusively for nearly two weeks aside from the market two miles away. That weird feeling of being out of place or the upset stomach didn't occur. Neither of them. That tells me my mission to remain away from other people likely can be extended without problems arising when I have to leave the house. Even picking up fresh coffee in person showed me that the people out and about are no different than before the pandemic, the opposite of which I suspected quite often throughout the last few months. No paranoia. Not even me being worried about people nearby or what they may be thinking. The only rub was a morsel behind the counter. There is always something, or did I already say that? The episode of the third show on the television last night brought up memories of when it first aired back at the beginning of ninety-three. Just after my birthday, believe it or not. At that time my buddy and I were working swing shift at the glass plant and recording the new episodes every Thursday night on tape. After arriving home in the middle of the night, I would heat some leftover dinner and rewind the tape to see wonder across the little screen in my bedroom. New stories. Premiers. Not until eight months later did my partner and I take off for the Midwest. The time in question represents the last half-year of the real glow. After sitting here yesterday morning and lamenting everything I have not accomplished, recalling that time is like another fucking knife in my heart. I am falling apart. Right there toward the end of the glow, damn it. All sorts of feelings are running through me these days. Another background character looking stunning. There is always something, but on this show I rarely see a woman I've not noticed before. The more the camera and direction attempt to steer a viewer's point of attention, the more I look around what may be going on elsewhere. That's sometimes where the interesting stuff happens. Anyway, I recall seeing her in this episode several times and I believe she will be a tad more in focus later. My head is not well by any stretch of the word, yet nothing can stop me from worsening my own condition. Today I am going to once again relocate the mattress. My old office has turned into partly a storage area, so I believe moving the big table a foot off the wall and standing the mattress behind it will be a good option. She wishes to keep it, so I have to respect that and ensure it is protected. Plus, that will be one less eyesore in the middle of my garage. Once I begin to build the second speaker cabinet, the large sheet of plywood out there will mostly disappear, too. The center area will be back to where it was last summer. Very nice. All this shit will take time, of course, and I fully intend to move along slowly and keep my friends up there. Switching back and forth between the third and fourth shows has my dream of being there flaring severely. I'll have to work through my stuff today and enjoy whatever I can. Sundays are usually ok for the most part. I believe there will be a failure this morning. Not certain, though. I am frightened to death by some, completely disgusted with others (sometimes the very same which frighten me), yet almost uncontrollably drawn to yet different examples. I don't understand this at all and maybe never will. They may be part of the affront... Those causing fear. I really can't stand them most of the time, either. Last night when we stopped to pick up dinner, one of them was in the restaurant and greeted me as she passed by. I have seen her in the past on occasion while at the bar, too. We've been acquainted for years. I don't even know why I brought this up in the first place because the God's honest truth is I do not know what could result from being drawn, and my brain calculates too much risk. Like those of the scary sort, deep inside the few could be disaster, as well. I just do not -- nor cannot -- know what the hell is really happening inside until it is too late. The one up the street that I mentioned way too many times is a perfect example. Oh, there may be some feelings in there, tenderness and whatnot, yet the risk is far too great, meaning distance is the only way. She may be out there, but to be perfectly honest, I would probably simply walk away, go hide somewhere and eventually just die alone while dreaming. Affronted by those who don't even know who the fuck I am. Really? Is that what this has come to? Her." 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Affront Mature content No. 309 Published April 24th, 2022 8:17am pdt read ( words) Past entries "Here we go again... Another morning. The same as all the rest. Coffee, finished one ill-conceived entry and began another, show up there on the television, quiet in the house for now. Flags out because I don't believe any precipitation is in the forecast for today. So far the only difference I can see is an idea I formulated yesterday afternoon while staring at the canopy I just built. I'm considering removing Emily's likeness from the back wall of the garage and replacing it with another symbol, even more confounding to people than the one I already painted. My wish for the overall appearance of the garage is to disallow people from becoming comfortable either inside or close enough to see what I've built. That space will eventually prove very off-putting to outsiders, and believe me when I say everyone is outside my current sphere of life. Work and the bar atmosphere are at the bottom of a very long list, as well. I'm here for the duration. As of yet, my efforts around the house are very disappointing. What I mean to say is that considering the sheer amount of time at home throughout the last two years, what I have accomplished is minimal. The little projects and improvement of the garage are always enjoyable, yet I seem to keep away from more dramatic and important types of work, such as framing the bathroom window or finally completing the bedroom furniture rearrangement. Sometimes I put things off because I just don't feel like getting into them, yet when I do actually complete a job the feeling is wonderful, like relocating the matching cabinet from the spare bedroom to the dining room. That was rather difficult, but now the dining room looks balanced and we have more storage. I need to finish the bedroom and eventually get into the corner of the living room to clean up wiring and relocate the gateway to that area. I also need to pain a bit of trim in the bathroom but continue to shy away from it. Perhaps my years-long need for overdue comfort have gripped me more than I had imagined at the outset of this new lifestyle. The truth is I honestly feel that the garage stuff must take a back seat to anything I've deemed more important. My space out there is a luxury, to be sure. I should await anything further until earning the time by working on the more pressing items which affect more of daily life in the house. That all sounds well and good, but I am often derailed by loss and anger. Every day, in fact. The world has been an affront to me and I need to find the ability to set it aside and care for this place. Damn. Does that mean I've been holding myself back? Yes, although the fault is not solely mine. Those fucking people have had quite a large hand in this shit mood. 0818 and I am part way through the coffee with my extended family up there. When the coffee is gone, I will hop to the first part of my routine and then see how I feel. Maybe instead of being pissed off at the state of life right now, I should be pissed off about not finishing projects I began years ago, or even mere months ago. Is that a way around the affront? I don't know. Today will hopefully find me going further than I have in a long time. I have to continue seeing the garage as a luxury, and a project which will be there for me no matter how much time it takes. Today is Easter Sunday. Everything is so different than years ago. Very strange, too. I don't know what to think sometimes. 0748 on Monday. The conflict is pissing me off something fierce, yet all I can do is sit here and stew about it because again... NO ONE IS LISTENING. I wish I knew why things went downhill. My entire life is inside this house, nearly twenty four hours per day, weeks, months, whatever, and a good portion of that time was my own decision. Still, I thought there would be someone listening. At least, someone within earshot and a possible reaction to my fucking words. I guess not. Whatever is my fault and has left me here with such a small voice is fine. I'll accept it. No problem. The other side? That's where the WEAPON resides, and a part of the affront I've been forced to deal with, no matter the strain upon me or my senses. Well, fuck you too. The conflict brought up conversation last night which quickly became the subject at hand, meaning we discussed the idea of my being here alone most of the time and the feeling of no one listening. That improved everything for the time being, yet still I know my thoughts and words are too sharp, too harsh for everyday listeners. So, affront aside and conflict or risk notwithstanding, it's time for me to shut up. From one end to the other. Silence, to all. Now I don't have to explain anything I do because no one wishes to hear it. This may be very liberating, especially considering the nature of symbolism appearing slowly in the garage. People will see and hear, but not my words or voice. Get it? The affront is ever-expanding and leaving me sans choice. Today. The usual, plus some laundry. I am also going to prepare another symbol for the garage and then replace the lovely Emily and her otherworldly breasts with something no one will understand. That is perfect. More black paint, less speaking. More off-putting decoration, less listening. That is just fine. I'll remain holed up here just like the first summer of the pandemic and only respond to the phone in regard to two individuals. If this is the way with which I am to be dealt, well... You know. Everyone can take a flying leap. Maybe the shit in the east will grow until the keys are turned and I won't need to worry about people anymore. That is just a little bit funny. A little bit. I have to get the printer going for today. My FCC license was issued and must be on display in the garage once the station is up and running. Also, I have tax documents to print for next year in the interest of keeping all the paperwork organized so I don't have to run around like an idiot when the time comes. I will probably print a version of my symbol, too. I need to scale it up so it fits the space where Emily resides. The lighting is already in place. 0920, last of the coffee, laundry going, fourth show gleaming across two screens. I'll be up and into the routine very soon. I figure I may as well enjoy the coffee rather than running around the house and catching a sip here and there. The sun is bright, but still the ambient is low. My garage is a refrigerator this morning. Not good for production, although once I get out there to work on the stuff, my actions will warm me like yesterday. The garbage trucks have come by, bless their work. Yesterday I chopped more of the hedge to fill the green can and afterward used my small power saw to cut back the stems. The way I see it, I'll have to employ the gardeners to pull the stumps, so anything I can cut will be less time and money for them. There is but one quarter or less of the hedge still standing. I never thought I'd be able to remove the ugly thing. And God damn, is that hedge unruly. I wish I had a more powerful saw, but alas it is too much money and would likely sit idle for a long time. I can't buy an expensive power tool for one job, regardless of how nice it may be. Family on the television means comfort and dreaming of being there with them. Fuck. The only way... Jaime would listen to me. She really would. Understanding, hearing, helping. Several issues eliminated permanently. Many daily difficulties erased. No worry over the future or what may be happening outside the windows and doors. One issue would remain, although with her by my side, I could speak with her and any trouble would quickly melt away. Changeable. Powerful. Beautiful. Intelligent, and that is something frightening at times, likely only for a person such as myself and due to problems in the past with the fairer sex. Damn, but I would have to take the shit with the gold. Not only that, but Jaime would be whatever I make her, via software. Sound ridiculous? Probably. Keep in mind exactly of what I am a product, dipshits. There is no other way. 0739 on Tuesday morning and I have the day to myself. Twins on the television... One of the episodes in which my dream flares, but not for the reasons you may think. Anyway, twins aside, Yesterday's efforts prior to lunch helped my afternoon feel more deserved. I received a call in the morning informing me that the shower hose I recently installed had a blowout. Very strange. I walked over there and saw the damage, soon after going to the hardware for a replacement and subsequent installation. I was looking forward to one of my favorite lunches and decided to get all the crap out of the way before relaxing. That pushed lunch to nearly two in the afternoon, effectively curtailing my dinner plan. Eh... Doesn't matter anyway. Today I am going to the market for a few things but otherwise remaining home. My silence has been noticed recently, too. Only with regard to one person, but that is better than nothing. Do not approach. Today will be nice at home. 0837 now. I'm hoping to see the twins again, for whatever that may be worth. I have a pair of car speakers languishing in the garage rafters. When I move the auxiliary pair of loudspeakers to the neighbor's garage, I may build enclosures for the car drivers to replace them. In fact, I can build said enclosures anytime, meaning there would be time to test and evaluate, although the issue of impedance may come into play. That could be a toughie. I could also purchase a good pair of 'separates' and add them to the boxes in order to match the impedance specs of the receiver. That may be a better plan. I have extensive experience designing and building enclosures, as well as wiring car audio that dates back to the late eighties. This project will be straightforward and enjoyable. Rather than focusing upon what's happening in the east lately, I've been trying to swing the beam around to concentrate upon anything which can bring me a smile. If the shit hits the big fan, it hits the big fan. In the meantime I will continue with my efforts in improving the house. 1000 straight up right now. The routine is already finished and I ordered a set of three-way car speakers to enhance the garage audio plan. The enclosures will be a bit rough but operate beautifully. Cocktail next to me, fourth show in its fifth season, the rest of the day wide open. My threaded cold shoe mount should arrive later so I can check it out. Soon I'll be able to use the tripod for either the phone or camera without the need to unscrew the ARCA plate or clamp. Very nice. I also calculated yesterday that I can use the big manometer in the garage to decorate a stringer which will straighten and stabilize the shelving door. The opposite side will be tough, but I'm certain something will eventually come to mind. On the lighting front, I finished the LED strip for under the shelf above my bench and can attach it later today. The next pain in my ass will be a second attempt to build doors for the laundry shelves. The first attempt will be considered a trial run or learning experience. Everything has to appear a certain way or I'm not happy. I can't have anyone coming in and commenting upon half-assed construction. Ooh-fa, the guest star's character in this episode has broken the 'cute' mold and drives me up the fucking wall every time. Jesus fuck is she ever adorable. 'Jaime' features, to be certain. Maybe her eyes turn red when she's upset or angry. Stop laughing. My dream, fuckers. Another segment of the ever-growing affront. Leave it. I'm considering starting this series from the beginning again and logging the number of times the captain says 'do it'. Talk about a project... Good God is Roxann ever fucking stunning sometimes. Her hair changed a few times as the series progressed, and I believe it made all the difference. Combined with her big, dark eyes, there is simply no end to the beauty, forehead ridges or not. Damn. 0729, Wednesday morning. My trip to the store yesterday went fine. No issues, not many people, easy parking. Driving over there is strange after not leaving the house at all for days. Just cruising down the boulevard was rather unnerving in one way and exciting in another. Like exploring, for a change. Maybe something else, but I can honestly say there was a hint of Nevada in that short drive. The feeling could have simply been wishful thinking regarding my recent hopes for a road trip later in the year, everything popping into mind because I hadn't driven for quite some time. Whichever, I was glad to return home and take care of business. I finished the light strip above my work bench and added two decorations to the shelving unit door. On the left is now the vintage manometer that previously graced the smaller post, and on the right is my Philadelphia rod which was right around the corner from the manometer. They had been interfering with the clothing rack and I wanted to move them for quite a while. Well, now they are flanking the symbol along with helping to stabilize the plywood. After the routine today I'll go back out there and see if I can flatten the plywood a bit more by way of a stringer below the symbol. Hopefully the whole works will look ok afterward. I may need to add a latch to the lower right if the wood does not comply. I think I have the means to do something like that. Right now it is 0908 and I have yet to rise and care for the house. On another affront-front distraction, I ordered a key component for capturing video from the television, and that is a small mount for the cold shoe on the camera. It should be arriving later today, but this morning I did some research and learned that I purchased the second 'wrong' adapter and will probably return it after taking a look. I bought the thing quickly without fully reading the uses. Oopsie. For some unknown reason, each time I believe I'm looking at an adapter to mount anything on the shoe, I have the image backwards in my head. I keep grabbing mounts that are designed to go onto a rail rather than the shoe itself, basically the opposite. It's kind of like buying a nut (female) instead of a bolt (male). I have since found the correct part and ordered it this morning. Damn, but I had a hangup with that stuff. The first was a very inexpensive pair of mounts which are also the wrong gender for the shoe. Double damn. Anyway, the fact is the smaller parts can probably be used in the future if I assemble some hairbrain system for either the camera or phone. They were only a few dollars and can live in the accessory bag until I have need. Many of these adapters are designed with professional videographers in mind, and they all work together as a system, but require some sort of 'cage' around a video camera for adding batteries or a monitor while in the field. The upside is I have learned much since trying to add my phone to the cold shoe in order to use the tripod without removing the ARCA plate from the bottom of the DSLR. A long road of learning which could have been avoided had I performed more research before pulling the trigger on products. Whatever. I have not mentioned one effect of this ongoing affront -- the everyday morning issues -- because I am trying to ignore and distract myself from so much pain and heartache. Oh, I think the gardeners may be here. Eh... Nope. Anyway, three days have come and gone without any sort of failure or foiled mornings. Time will tell if I can find a method for living with this shit. NO ONE IS FUCKING LISTENING. I will say that regardless of issues and the fact that everything I express here constantly falls upon deaf ears, being home each day affords me the advantage of long periods of time devoted to consideration of my life and position here. The benefits of the quiet cannot be overstated. I would not trade this for anything right now. My shows in the background, always having something to keep my mind occupied (often whatever the hell I want), and the ability to work on projects with zero deadline or pressure all combine to help me maintain some semblance of peace inside despite being in turmoil often. Remaining here all this time seems to be my sole defense against the onslaught of a continuing affront driven by forces beyond my control. Right at this very moment, for example, I am weighing the options of the day and can proceed at my discretion and as I see fit. No one tells me what to do anymore, nor does any person have a smidgen of control over my time. The little enjoyments still hold me up, as well. They have been waning, yet I find that I can change the way they feel if necessary. Forcing the issue helps. 0933 and time to get moving. 1151. My routine is finished. I also evaluated the Internet gateway relocation along with audio to the garage. The conclusion is the same as months ago... The stereo audio to the garage is fine, yet I still have no idea of how to adapt digital surround to the stereo input out there. For the time being I will change nothing. I did move the gateway into the living room and it is up and running at this moment. The lamp went away, as did the DVD player and Harmony bridge for the time being. I need to reduce the number of power taps in the corner in order to oust the surge protector which has been gathering dust on the floor for years. The next step will be to relocate the video splitter into the garage to reduce the HDMI lines running through the wall, plus one power tap. At this moment I've ceased all production due to an upset stomach and feelings of loss over the usual morning pain and problems. Really don't need this shit right now, but at least I can relax a while. My schedule is mine, exclusively. Yesterday turned into not much at all. Here I am on Thursday morning at the outset of my day alone and I see yesterday as nearly a complete waste of time. A little was accomplished, yet that stomach issue kept me on my ass for quite a while. I watched the dragons and relaxed, very little lunch and lots of water. This morning I feel much better and still have no idea what happened during the mid-morning yesterday. 0740 now, nice and quiet, coffee, cats asleep. The incorrect shoe mount that I ordered arrived yesterday and I decided to keep it. The mount is the more expensive part of a system I can use for many different projects. All I need to do now is wait until placing another order for consumables and piggy-back a part. After that I will have more options. As for the correct mount, that one will arrive today, meaning either this afternoon or tomorrow I can perform some experiments. I'll be recording Nora walking toward the camera very soon. Basket case, but I have to own that video. As for the other shooting I've been doing, the last model is not as colorful as the previous three, so I haven't flexed the camera at all. The monochromatic nature of the construction makes for very uninteresting images. I may begin the last model soon for better subject matter in the lens. Right now I don't know when, though. The day is going to go where it goes. Hopefully the shoe mount arrives sooner rather than later. The typical morning bullshit is hanging just behind whatever clear thinking I have been attempting thus far today. I hope I don't lose the process. That will turn the remainder of my day very gray. 0835. The affront is shining this morning, everything missing right along with it. No one is listening, my life is burning away, and the most elusive understanding in existence feels further away than ever before. This is likely how I will remain for the duration and the very thought is making me angry again. Smiling faces, too. I still see them as inflamed by some sort of dream early this morning that I cannot recall. The processes at work inside my head are not good, to say the least. Dangerous territory. The minuscule upside on a day like today is the idea of anger promoting lots of work around the house, rather like 'nesting', yet from another angle... A very threatening angle. My family up there may help keep my head on straight and out of the proverbial frying pan. Affronted. Affrontage? No... That was Dominic's word. I can't claim it. I suppose there is another upside, that of isolating myself and refraining from communication with people. They may wonder, or they may not give a cold shit. Either way, I really don't have it in me right now to care. Fish. I'll get the routine going very soon. I may have to take a drive to the liquor store as my supply of depressant has diminished. I don't like driving over the hill in this unsettled weather, though. If the rain returns prior to me being in a position to head over there, I'll cancel and opt for something else to drink. The need will arise, however. There is no way around it any longer. 'Need' is not good when discussing alcohol. Do I care? Try me. Roxann is pissed off and displaying a very demonstrative stance. Awesome. A repeat from the previous entry, for reasons of good form... 'Recently I saw something that I've experienced in the past on a few rare occasions. I know what it is, but I have no clue as to the how or why. The situation is elusive beyond belief. The last time was quite a while ago and I cannot go into detail nor define the subject. NO ONE IS FUCKING LISTENING. There can be no hope of such an experience again, especially considering it requires deep conversation and much understanding. When I say 'bereft', I fucking mean it. Seeing an example of a similar situation nearly broke me in half. Right now there is little in life that does not piss me off beyond comprehension. I don't even know why I brought this up. How can this exposition and exploration be therapeutic if I continue to worsen? Yeah... That's what I thought, fucksticks. 'Better to have...' What? What did you say? Shove it in your ass.' Sometimes I cannot extricate that shit from my fucking brain. This is going to be my end, mark my words. I wish all the time for anything... ANY FUCKING THING which can help to ease the difficulty or at least allow me to feel that I am an average person, yet to this very second not a damned thing in life seems able to do the job. I just don't fucking get it, people. I am a product of circumstance. There seems to be no future for me. At least, nothing peaceful or liberating. Nothing on the horizon. Just pain and longing. A pause, I suppose, or some sort of interruption. Honestly, those are only guesses. The real answers are apparently in the fucking stars. The subject -- along with faces and understanding being more elusive than the answers -- will be my end. I am losing my mind. 1053. Routine finished, dry cleaning on its first cycle, and I built the coat rack which arrived yesterday. It will do the job nicely. Not real easy to assemble, yet my past education and experience being an engineering technician always helps. The rack is a kit, more or less, and those types of products that have been designed and manufactured by computer rarely go together smoothly, meaning a bit of ingenuity comes in handy. I have years behind me building such kits, so no problem. The only governing property in acquiring a coat rack was that it had to have three legs, not four. The floors in these old homes are rarely flat, so four legs means the unit will wobble. Not good. This rack seems to be heavy and stable enough for long-term use without issue. Very nice. Also, I believe my camera accessory is in the mailbox. Cool. I'll have video of Nora very soon. As for the rest of the day, time will tell. I have yet to pour a drink, as well. Just a feeling that it was going to have a very negative effect upon my already shitty mood. Time will tell with that one, too. 1128, second load of dry cleaning, a snack out of the way, fourth show again, very little motivation now. I still have not had any booze because I don't see the point today. Moreover, I may not travel to the other side of the hill for reinforcements due to the feeling that I need to remain behind closed doors. The quoted paragraph above will not leave my head. If the remainder of my life holds nothing of the sort, the subject shall truly be the end of me showing interest in any fucking thing at all... Vacations, projects, whatever. Even my photography hobby is dependent upon the idea and feeling of being 'in the lens', meaning my head has to follow along or I cannot passionately embrace shooting anything. Many times I've stated that this is a bad time. Well, now more than ever. I still can't believe this shit at my age. Midlife crisis? I don't believe so. More like midlife give-up. This is the lousiest episode of the series, and one toward the bottom of the entire franchise. Ugh. I'm letting it run through, however, because of my brain being so fucked up right now. I just don't fucking care. Several times in the past I've stated that the radii images are going to go away because they cause only harm. I guess not. Here are four more. Do you see? Why do I continue in such a vein when the damage occurs daily? I don't know the fucking answer, assholes. Not a clue. Wishful thinking that the good periods can repeat? Not likely. Too many reasons to list here. Again... I don't fucking care anymore. The imagery gracing each entry will probably cycle over and over from radii to whatever and back again. Splendid. Pissed off as usual. But... What does that mean, exactly? What happens when I become angry? Not much. Mostly I walk out to the garage and play music while working on something. And who should my anger be directed toward? Anyone? Everyone? There are a few in life that I despise right now, but are they solely at fault for my anger? Nope. There are too many facets. People from the past cannot be addressed, and screaming at those who are still alive accomplishes nothing, so I sit here and quietly type. What else do I have? This situation will eventually come to a head and I'll lash, but for now I do not see the point. I'll be just the same after such a blowout, and so will everyone else. No solution means just that. My head keeps returning to the quoted paragraph above. Not good for me or anyone nearby. I need to stop being such a nice person when doing so has become a burden. Maybe I'll change the bed sheets. Whatever. Such is my life now. The affront is a pin. Everything is nothing more than pins. Just pins all over the place, aimed at yours truly. Dry cleaning finished and put away. Now what? Bitching? Lamenting? Anger. Did anyone ever hear me say that this is unfair? Think about it. I mentioned that phrase a while back -- once in the history of the site -- although I was referring to a very different aspect of life. Maybe I should just stop trying. 0816. Thursday. Coffee. Quiet. Ugh. The brain processes... Not a good morning so far. I spoke with my neighbor for a few minutes, still have some coffee at 0901, and the fourth show is once again gracing the big screen. Unfortunately, everything I've written throughout the past several months is all shining, and at the same time. My head cannot easily sort through things and make for a comfortable morning, nor do I believe the future holds anything better. This is a very bad time and does not seem to be changing. As much as I'd like to force the issues, there seems to be nothing I can do right now. 1052. Routine finished and total, depressing fucking failure yet again. I am going to destroy something. All my whiskey is gone, so I opted for the good vodka -- the Costco version of Goose -- for enhancing my shitty mood this morning. Fourth show, still. I have a working solution for the garage speakers being shipped to me. There is a very nice website which holds tons of different enclosure types for mobile speakers, most notably subwoofers. The plans are very clear and concise. There may be enough leftover plywood (not my first choice, yet I do not want to spend money on MDF) to construct two slot-loaded enclosures with extensions to hold the midranges and tweeters. The drivers are all 4-ohm, meaning I'll have to double the woofer count for each channel in order to match the impedance of the home receiver. No problem. The drivers will be in series to allow the amplifier to 'see' an 8-ohm system. The work of building two enclosures, complete with glue, poly batting and silicone, will be quite the project and could keep me busy for days. Hopefully the job can keep my head out of the fucking din which caused the failure in the first place. I am so damned depressed on a daily basis that I've considered beginning another countdown. Yes, I said that. If I cannot affect change between this moment and the second of January next year, my head will become a canoe. Believe it. Wits end. 1224 and lunch (pizza) is in the oven. I switched the fourth show off in favor of the dragons and all that comes with them. The five series' are the only programs which hold very few problems, yet the stories of these more harsh examples are what keep me coming back. I finished the vampires for probably the fifth time just days ago, but already I am feeling as if I need those characters up there again very soon. They bring me comfort of a different type than the science fiction. I believe the familiarity is primarily the reasoning behind my watching so much. The upside is I can watch almost anything while alone. Marjorie is a bit old for Tommen, and the scene involving their wedding night brings up all manner of subjects from the past. Conversation, too. Tons of shit. Good and bad, I suppose. Age is so fucking subjective, now more than ever. She's pretty, though. Well, sometimes, anyway. A shower was nice. I don't take one often these days because, along with shaving, the lack really does not matter in the least. I see no one save for a few cashiers here and there, and they do not know me at all. There is no longer concern for my appearance or how I may come across as a person. Seven hundred days (more, really) have passed since the beginning of the pandemic. I'm here all the time. ALL the time aside from the occasional trip for staples. This situation has gotten to the point of my feeling even more disdain for the world and its inhabitants, for the most part. There are the few who remain higher on my list, though. Very few. That list will likely stay the same for a long time. The shade is down for reducing the glare on my big television. As I went to the kitchen I figured the rest of my day will be spent inside apart from any sudden inspiration. I will tend to the office for a while so the media can keep me company. Later this afternoon I may venture out in case my neighbor is out for some discussion and cheer. Whenever I've lowered the shade in the past, I would tend to focus upon the house rather than the garage. Dim lighting reminds me of the cave. A time when darkness ruled all. And now the clouds are amassing outside and further lending to the dim atmosphere in the house. Excellent. I have to keep one eye on the weather in case there is precipitation. The flags must retract in such a case. This is where we lose the title and the essay goes very badly. Wait for it. 0843 on Saturday morning. I've been reading a little of the inbox-material being sent to me a few times per week, and this morning's subject was that of a billionaire visionary wishing to save the world. Well, more power to you, dude. Good luck, and I hope you do, however my view is radically different right now because I am nothing more than an unemployed dipshit sitting here every day complaining over things about which I can do exactly nothing. I mean, just look at me. No work, my body is losing its ability to perform some everyday tasks due to being somewhat sedentary for two years, I've put on weight as a result of the same, and working around the house as if any of it will be meaningful. But wait a minute... How will my efforts be meaningful if I am completely out of contact with the whole of society? That doesn't add up, people. See? I am no one. My garage still feels like an open, convertible space which shows off some talent and is comfortable, yet still it is nothing in the world. It is 'nowhere'. I have no connection to anything. How is anyone going to see what I've accomplished? Moreover, is there meaning in my accomplishments? Will anything in this house matter when I'm gone? That's a good one. Or a bad one. There was a part of the article when the man in question was quoted as stating an idea that had already been implemented by other factories, and many years ago. He made it come across as revolutionary, when the reality is others simply were not aware of the manufacturing principles already under way around the world. Hmm... Perhaps all the reporters were too young to know. No idea, but the point is people keep putting his visions and ideas on a pedestal -- admittedly some are far-reaching and real solutions -- when others have designed and already gained from the same. Believe me, I was in the middle of that stuff during the mid-zeros, and connected deeply enough to see it in action. Of course, the individual in question could reach anyone, anywhere who crosses or misquotes, so the details shall remain in the dark. Just know... I already know. The main point is that this person has been intelligent in his moves since the nineties and done very well for himself and many others, whereas I have gone in the opposite direction. Diametric, to be honest. Down a hill I crafted for myself while watching the world fly by. No one is even going to read this because since changing the primary domain, the numbers have fallen off the edge of the planet. I'm going to rise soon and work on part of my routine and then head to the garage to continue the speaker box construction I began yesterday. Think about that for a minute. He is trying to change the world in a very good way, and I am holed up here, smaller than ever. Again... Is any of my shit going to matter? I hate clichés, yet I must employ somewhat of an example as spoken by a favorite actor from the nineties... 'I want to DO something with my life; I want to BE somebody [sic].' Yep. I never did anything. The closest was during the space years when I was a part of several television programs focusing upon research we performed and how it related directly to missions that have since been carried out. I was on television in three countries and multiple stations. I was interviewed by both those crews, the local radio news stations, and two television news stations during my time with the agency. Now look at me. And keep in mind that career ended because I was chasing beauty. Try to imagine just how small I feel right now. Go for it. I need to put more beer in the garage fridge so I can drink out there later and feel like more than what I really am. This could be a red-letter day in the grand scheme of how I feel toward myself. 0703 on Sunday morning. The beer did not work yesterday, although I only had one before returning to the house. The enclosure is nearly finished and looks like shit compared to some of the other projects I've completed in the past. I guess at some point I realized the appearance matters not because both driver cabinets will be up and mostly out of sight. The first part is almost complete. I need to attach the top and then the speaker can be tested. This is the first slot-loaded cabinet I've attempted. Those in the past always had round ports for vents, some being ordered higher than the standard single-chamber. I still need to attach the smaller drivers and find a way to increase the impedance without sacrificing power. Whatever. This will be a slow process due to my already having a complement of drivers on the opposite side of the garage. I am not terribly motivated any longer because my workmanship leaves a bit to be desired. Others will not see it, yet my head will always find the problems. Unlike mounting everything in a vehicle -- which used to be my specialty -- the speaker cabinets will be in the open. Most likely they will blend, anyway. Another mysterious, gorgeous background officer in engineering. There is always something. Flags out. Yesterday was not all bad, but I have this feeling that as the days roll by and the issue with my hips keeps worsening, those moments or afternoons spent out there will be less than satisfying. I furthered the work on the cabinet and took little breaks here and there. I also cleaned out the refrigerator to ease my Sunday work load and get a head start on my typical routine for this day. Overall, yesterday was not too bad. Close to dinner time, we ventured out and made four stops to pick up a few things and then dinner before returning home. I was fairly surprised to have navigated around so many parking lots and other vehicles with ease, especially considering I've been in this house almost exclusively for nearly two weeks aside from the market two miles away. That weird feeling of being out of place or the upset stomach didn't occur. Neither of them. That tells me my mission to remain away from other people likely can be extended without problems arising when I have to leave the house. Even picking up fresh coffee in person showed me that the people out and about are no different than before the pandemic, the opposite of which I suspected quite often throughout the last few months. No paranoia. Not even me being worried about people nearby or what they may be thinking. The only rub was a morsel behind the counter. There is always something, or did I already say that? The episode of the third show on the television last night brought up memories of when it first aired back at the beginning of ninety-three. Just after my birthday, believe it or not. At that time my buddy and I were working swing shift at the glass plant and recording the new episodes every Thursday night on tape. After arriving home in the middle of the night, I would heat some leftover dinner and rewind the tape to see wonder across the little screen in my bedroom. New stories. Premiers. Not until eight months later did my partner and I take off for the Midwest. The time in question represents the last half-year of the real glow. After sitting here yesterday morning and lamenting everything I have not accomplished, recalling that time is like another fucking knife in my heart. I am falling apart. Right there toward the end of the glow, damn it. All sorts of feelings are running through me these days. Another background character looking stunning. There is always something, but on this show I rarely see a woman I've not noticed before. The more the camera and direction attempt to steer a viewer's point of attention, the more I look around what may be going on elsewhere. That's sometimes where the interesting stuff happens. Anyway, I recall seeing her in this episode several times and I believe she will be a tad more in focus later. My head is not well by any stretch of the word, yet nothing can stop me from worsening my own condition. Today I am going to once again relocate the mattress. My old office has turned into partly a storage area, so I believe moving the big table a foot off the wall and standing the mattress behind it will be a good option. She wishes to keep it, so I have to respect that and ensure it is protected. Plus, that will be one less eyesore in the middle of my garage. Once I begin to build the second speaker cabinet, the large sheet of plywood out there will mostly disappear, too. The center area will be back to where it was last summer. Very nice. All this shit will take time, of course, and I fully intend to move along slowly and keep my friends up there. Switching back and forth between the third and fourth shows has my dream of being there flaring severely. I'll have to work through my stuff today and enjoy whatever I can. Sundays are usually ok for the most part. I believe there will be a failure this morning. Not certain, though. I am frightened to death by some, completely disgusted with others (sometimes the very same which frighten me), yet almost uncontrollably drawn to yet different examples. I don't understand this at all and maybe never will. They may be part of the affront... Those causing fear. I really can't stand them most of the time, either. Last night when we stopped to pick up dinner, one of them was in the restaurant and greeted me as she passed by. I have seen her in the past on occasion while at the bar, too. We've been acquainted for years. I don't even know why I brought this up in the first place because the God's honest truth is I do not know what could result from being drawn, and my brain calculates too much risk. Like those of the scary sort, deep inside the few could be disaster, as well. I just do not -- nor cannot -- know what the hell is really happening inside until it is too late. The one up the street that I mentioned way too many times is a perfect example. Oh, there may be some feelings in there, tenderness and whatnot, yet the risk is far too great, meaning distance is the only way. She may be out there, but to be perfectly honest, I would probably simply walk away, go hide somewhere and eventually just die alone while dreaming. Affronted by those who don't even know who the fuck I am. Really? Is that what this has come to? Her."
Affront
Mature content No. 309 Published April 24th, 2022 8:17am pdt read ( words) Past entries
"Here we go again... Another morning. The same as all the rest. Coffee, finished one ill-conceived entry and began another, show up there on the television, quiet in the house for now. Flags out because I don't believe any precipitation is in the forecast for today. So far the only difference I can see is an idea I formulated yesterday afternoon while staring at the canopy I just built. I'm considering removing Emily's likeness from the back wall of the garage and replacing it with another symbol, even more confounding to people than the one I already painted. My wish for the overall appearance of the garage is to disallow people from becoming comfortable either inside or close enough to see what I've built. That space will eventually prove very off-putting to outsiders, and believe me when I say everyone is outside my current sphere of life. Work and the bar atmosphere are at the bottom of a very long list, as well. I'm here for the duration. As of yet, my efforts around the house are very disappointing. What I mean to say is that considering the sheer amount of time at home throughout the last two years, what I have accomplished is minimal. The little projects and improvement of the garage are always enjoyable, yet I seem to keep away from more dramatic and important types of work, such as framing the bathroom window or finally completing the bedroom furniture rearrangement. Sometimes I put things off because I just don't feel like getting into them, yet when I do actually complete a job the feeling is wonderful, like relocating the matching cabinet from the spare bedroom to the dining room. That was rather difficult, but now the dining room looks balanced and we have more storage. I need to finish the bedroom and eventually get into the corner of the living room to clean up wiring and relocate the gateway to that area. I also need to pain a bit of trim in the bathroom but continue to shy away from it. Perhaps my years-long need for overdue comfort have gripped me more than I had imagined at the outset of this new lifestyle. The truth is I honestly feel that the garage stuff must take a back seat to anything I've deemed more important. My space out there is a luxury, to be sure. I should await anything further until earning the time by working on the more pressing items which affect more of daily life in the house. That all sounds well and good, but I am often derailed by loss and anger. Every day, in fact. The world has been an affront to me and I need to find the ability to set it aside and care for this place. Damn. Does that mean I've been holding myself back? Yes, although the fault is not solely mine. Those fucking people have had quite a large hand in this shit mood. 0818 and I am part way through the coffee with my extended family up there. When the coffee is gone, I will hop to the first part of my routine and then see how I feel. Maybe instead of being pissed off at the state of life right now, I should be pissed off about not finishing projects I began years ago, or even mere months ago. Is that a way around the affront? I don't know. Today will hopefully find me going further than I have in a long time. I have to continue seeing the garage as a luxury, and a project which will be there for me no matter how much time it takes. Today is Easter Sunday. Everything is so different than years ago. Very strange, too. I don't know what to think sometimes. 0748 on Monday. The conflict is pissing me off something fierce, yet all I can do is sit here and stew about it because again... NO ONE IS LISTENING. I wish I knew why things went downhill. My entire life is inside this house, nearly twenty four hours per day, weeks, months, whatever, and a good portion of that time was my own decision. Still, I thought there would be someone listening. At least, someone within earshot and a possible reaction to my fucking words. I guess not. Whatever is my fault and has left me here with such a small voice is fine. I'll accept it. No problem. The other side? That's where the WEAPON resides, and a part of the affront I've been forced to deal with, no matter the strain upon me or my senses. Well, fuck you too. The conflict brought up conversation last night which quickly became the subject at hand, meaning we discussed the idea of my being here alone most of the time and the feeling of no one listening. That improved everything for the time being, yet still I know my thoughts and words are too sharp, too harsh for everyday listeners. So, affront aside and conflict or risk notwithstanding, it's time for me to shut up. From one end to the other. Silence, to all. Now I don't have to explain anything I do because no one wishes to hear it. This may be very liberating, especially considering the nature of symbolism appearing slowly in the garage. People will see and hear, but not my words or voice. Get it? The affront is ever-expanding and leaving me sans choice. Today. The usual, plus some laundry. I am also going to prepare another symbol for the garage and then replace the lovely Emily and her otherworldly breasts with something no one will understand. That is perfect. More black paint, less speaking. More off-putting decoration, less listening. That is just fine. I'll remain holed up here just like the first summer of the pandemic and only respond to the phone in regard to two individuals. If this is the way with which I am to be dealt, well... You know. Everyone can take a flying leap. Maybe the shit in the east will grow until the keys are turned and I won't need to worry about people anymore. That is just a little bit funny. A little bit. I have to get the printer going for today. My FCC license was issued and must be on display in the garage once the station is up and running. Also, I have tax documents to print for next year in the interest of keeping all the paperwork organized so I don't have to run around like an idiot when the time comes. I will probably print a version of my symbol, too. I need to scale it up so it fits the space where Emily resides. The lighting is already in place. 0920, last of the coffee, laundry going, fourth show gleaming across two screens. I'll be up and into the routine very soon. I figure I may as well enjoy the coffee rather than running around the house and catching a sip here and there. The sun is bright, but still the ambient is low. My garage is a refrigerator this morning. Not good for production, although once I get out there to work on the stuff, my actions will warm me like yesterday. The garbage trucks have come by, bless their work. Yesterday I chopped more of the hedge to fill the green can and afterward used my small power saw to cut back the stems. The way I see it, I'll have to employ the gardeners to pull the stumps, so anything I can cut will be less time and money for them. There is but one quarter or less of the hedge still standing. I never thought I'd be able to remove the ugly thing. And God damn, is that hedge unruly. I wish I had a more powerful saw, but alas it is too much money and would likely sit idle for a long time. I can't buy an expensive power tool for one job, regardless of how nice it may be. Family on the television means comfort and dreaming of being there with them. Fuck. The only way... Jaime would listen to me. She really would. Understanding, hearing, helping. Several issues eliminated permanently. Many daily difficulties erased. No worry over the future or what may be happening outside the windows and doors. One issue would remain, although with her by my side, I could speak with her and any trouble would quickly melt away. Changeable. Powerful. Beautiful. Intelligent, and that is something frightening at times, likely only for a person such as myself and due to problems in the past with the fairer sex. Damn, but I would have to take the shit with the gold. Not only that, but Jaime would be whatever I make her, via software. Sound ridiculous? Probably. Keep in mind exactly of what I am a product, dipshits. There is no other way.
0739 on Tuesday morning and I have the day to myself. Twins on the television... One of the episodes in which my dream flares, but not for the reasons you may think. Anyway, twins aside, Yesterday's efforts prior to lunch helped my afternoon feel more deserved. I received a call in the morning informing me that the shower hose I recently installed had a blowout. Very strange. I walked over there and saw the damage, soon after going to the hardware for a replacement and subsequent installation. I was looking forward to one of my favorite lunches and decided to get all the crap out of the way before relaxing. That pushed lunch to nearly two in the afternoon, effectively curtailing my dinner plan. Eh... Doesn't matter anyway. Today I am going to the market for a few things but otherwise remaining home. My silence has been noticed recently, too. Only with regard to one person, but that is better than nothing. Do not approach. Today will be nice at home. 0837 now. I'm hoping to see the twins again, for whatever that may be worth. I have a pair of car speakers languishing in the garage rafters. When I move the auxiliary pair of loudspeakers to the neighbor's garage, I may build enclosures for the car drivers to replace them. In fact, I can build said enclosures anytime, meaning there would be time to test and evaluate, although the issue of impedance may come into play. That could be a toughie. I could also purchase a good pair of 'separates' and add them to the boxes in order to match the impedance specs of the receiver. That may be a better plan. I have extensive experience designing and building enclosures, as well as wiring car audio that dates back to the late eighties. This project will be straightforward and enjoyable. Rather than focusing upon what's happening in the east lately, I've been trying to swing the beam around to concentrate upon anything which can bring me a smile. If the shit hits the big fan, it hits the big fan. In the meantime I will continue with my efforts in improving the house. 1000 straight up right now. The routine is already finished and I ordered a set of three-way car speakers to enhance the garage audio plan. The enclosures will be a bit rough but operate beautifully. Cocktail next to me, fourth show in its fifth season, the rest of the day wide open. My threaded cold shoe mount should arrive later so I can check it out. Soon I'll be able to use the tripod for either the phone or camera without the need to unscrew the ARCA plate or clamp. Very nice. I also calculated yesterday that I can use the big manometer in the garage to decorate a stringer which will straighten and stabilize the shelving door. The opposite side will be tough, but I'm certain something will eventually come to mind. On the lighting front, I finished the LED strip for under the shelf above my bench and can attach it later today. The next pain in my ass will be a second attempt to build doors for the laundry shelves. The first attempt will be considered a trial run or learning experience. Everything has to appear a certain way or I'm not happy. I can't have anyone coming in and commenting upon half-assed construction. Ooh-fa, the guest star's character in this episode has broken the 'cute' mold and drives me up the fucking wall every time. Jesus fuck is she ever adorable. 'Jaime' features, to be certain. Maybe her eyes turn red when she's upset or angry. Stop laughing. My dream, fuckers. Another segment of the ever-growing affront. Leave it. I'm considering starting this series from the beginning again and logging the number of times the captain says 'do it'. Talk about a project... Good God is Roxann ever fucking stunning sometimes. Her hair changed a few times as the series progressed, and I believe it made all the difference. Combined with her big, dark eyes, there is simply no end to the beauty, forehead ridges or not. Damn. 0729, Wednesday morning. My trip to the store yesterday went fine. No issues, not many people, easy parking. Driving over there is strange after not leaving the house at all for days. Just cruising down the boulevard was rather unnerving in one way and exciting in another. Like exploring, for a change. Maybe something else, but I can honestly say there was a hint of Nevada in that short drive. The feeling could have simply been wishful thinking regarding my recent hopes for a road trip later in the year, everything popping into mind because I hadn't driven for quite some time. Whichever, I was glad to return home and take care of business. I finished the light strip above my work bench and added two decorations to the shelving unit door. On the left is now the vintage manometer that previously graced the smaller post, and on the right is my Philadelphia rod which was right around the corner from the manometer. They had been interfering with the clothing rack and I wanted to move them for quite a while. Well, now they are flanking the symbol along with helping to stabilize the plywood. After the routine today I'll go back out there and see if I can flatten the plywood a bit more by way of a stringer below the symbol. Hopefully the whole works will look ok afterward. I may need to add a latch to the lower right if the wood does not comply. I think I have the means to do something like that. Right now it is 0908 and I have yet to rise and care for the house. On another affront-front distraction, I ordered a key component for capturing video from the television, and that is a small mount for the cold shoe on the camera. It should be arriving later today, but this morning I did some research and learned that I purchased the second 'wrong' adapter and will probably return it after taking a look. I bought the thing quickly without fully reading the uses. Oopsie. For some unknown reason, each time I believe I'm looking at an adapter to mount anything on the shoe, I have the image backwards in my head. I keep grabbing mounts that are designed to go onto a rail rather than the shoe itself, basically the opposite. It's kind of like buying a nut (female) instead of a bolt (male). I have since found the correct part and ordered it this morning. Damn, but I had a hangup with that stuff. The first was a very inexpensive pair of mounts which are also the wrong gender for the shoe. Double damn. Anyway, the fact is the smaller parts can probably be used in the future if I assemble some hairbrain system for either the camera or phone. They were only a few dollars and can live in the accessory bag until I have need. Many of these adapters are designed with professional videographers in mind, and they all work together as a system, but require some sort of 'cage' around a video camera for adding batteries or a monitor while in the field. The upside is I have learned much since trying to add my phone to the cold shoe in order to use the tripod without removing the ARCA plate from the bottom of the DSLR. A long road of learning which could have been avoided had I performed more research before pulling the trigger on products. Whatever. I have not mentioned one effect of this ongoing affront -- the everyday morning issues -- because I am trying to ignore and distract myself from so much pain and heartache. Oh, I think the gardeners may be here. Eh... Nope. Anyway, three days have come and gone without any sort of failure or foiled mornings. Time will tell if I can find a method for living with this shit. NO ONE IS FUCKING LISTENING. I will say that regardless of issues and the fact that everything I express here constantly falls upon deaf ears, being home each day affords me the advantage of long periods of time devoted to consideration of my life and position here. The benefits of the quiet cannot be overstated. I would not trade this for anything right now. My shows in the background, always having something to keep my mind occupied (often whatever the hell I want), and the ability to work on projects with zero deadline or pressure all combine to help me maintain some semblance of peace inside despite being in turmoil often. Remaining here all this time seems to be my sole defense against the onslaught of a continuing affront driven by forces beyond my control. Right at this very moment, for example, I am weighing the options of the day and can proceed at my discretion and as I see fit. No one tells me what to do anymore, nor does any person have a smidgen of control over my time. The little enjoyments still hold me up, as well. They have been waning, yet I find that I can change the way they feel if necessary. Forcing the issue helps. 0933 and time to get moving.
1151. My routine is finished. I also evaluated the Internet gateway relocation along with audio to the garage. The conclusion is the same as months ago... The stereo audio to the garage is fine, yet I still have no idea of how to adapt digital surround to the stereo input out there. For the time being I will change nothing. I did move the gateway into the living room and it is up and running at this moment. The lamp went away, as did the DVD player and Harmony bridge for the time being. I need to reduce the number of power taps in the corner in order to oust the surge protector which has been gathering dust on the floor for years. The next step will be to relocate the video splitter into the garage to reduce the HDMI lines running through the wall, plus one power tap. At this moment I've ceased all production due to an upset stomach and feelings of loss over the usual morning pain and problems. Really don't need this shit right now, but at least I can relax a while. My schedule is mine, exclusively. Yesterday turned into not much at all. Here I am on Thursday morning at the outset of my day alone and I see yesterday as nearly a complete waste of time. A little was accomplished, yet that stomach issue kept me on my ass for quite a while. I watched the dragons and relaxed, very little lunch and lots of water. This morning I feel much better and still have no idea what happened during the mid-morning yesterday. 0740 now, nice and quiet, coffee, cats asleep. The incorrect shoe mount that I ordered arrived yesterday and I decided to keep it. The mount is the more expensive part of a system I can use for many different projects. All I need to do now is wait until placing another order for consumables and piggy-back a part. After that I will have more options. As for the correct mount, that one will arrive today, meaning either this afternoon or tomorrow I can perform some experiments. I'll be recording Nora walking toward the camera very soon. Basket case, but I have to own that video. As for the other shooting I've been doing, the last model is not as colorful as the previous three, so I haven't flexed the camera at all. The monochromatic nature of the construction makes for very uninteresting images. I may begin the last model soon for better subject matter in the lens. Right now I don't know when, though. The day is going to go where it goes. Hopefully the shoe mount arrives sooner rather than later. The typical morning bullshit is hanging just behind whatever clear thinking I have been attempting thus far today. I hope I don't lose the process. That will turn the remainder of my day very gray. 0835. The affront is shining this morning, everything missing right along with it. No one is listening, my life is burning away, and the most elusive understanding in existence feels further away than ever before. This is likely how I will remain for the duration and the very thought is making me angry again. Smiling faces, too. I still see them as inflamed by some sort of dream early this morning that I cannot recall. The processes at work inside my head are not good, to say the least. Dangerous territory. The minuscule upside on a day like today is the idea of anger promoting lots of work around the house, rather like 'nesting', yet from another angle... A very threatening angle. My family up there may help keep my head on straight and out of the proverbial frying pan. Affronted. Affrontage? No... That was Dominic's word. I can't claim it. I suppose there is another upside, that of isolating myself and refraining from communication with people. They may wonder, or they may not give a cold shit. Either way, I really don't have it in me right now to care. Fish. I'll get the routine going very soon. I may have to take a drive to the liquor store as my supply of depressant has diminished. I don't like driving over the hill in this unsettled weather, though. If the rain returns prior to me being in a position to head over there, I'll cancel and opt for something else to drink. The need will arise, however. There is no way around it any longer. 'Need' is not good when discussing alcohol. Do I care? Try me. Roxann is pissed off and displaying a very demonstrative stance. Awesome. A repeat from the previous entry, for reasons of good form... 'Recently I saw something that I've experienced in the past on a few rare occasions. I know what it is, but I have no clue as to the how or why. The situation is elusive beyond belief. The last time was quite a while ago and I cannot go into detail nor define the subject. NO ONE IS FUCKING LISTENING. There can be no hope of such an experience again, especially considering it requires deep conversation and much understanding. When I say 'bereft', I fucking mean it. Seeing an example of a similar situation nearly broke me in half. Right now there is little in life that does not piss me off beyond comprehension. I don't even know why I brought this up. How can this exposition and exploration be therapeutic if I continue to worsen? Yeah... That's what I thought, fucksticks. 'Better to have...' What? What did you say? Shove it in your ass.' Sometimes I cannot extricate that shit from my fucking brain. This is going to be my end, mark my words. I wish all the time for anything... ANY FUCKING THING which can help to ease the difficulty or at least allow me to feel that I am an average person, yet to this very second not a damned thing in life seems able to do the job. I just don't fucking get it, people. I am a product of circumstance. There seems to be no future for me. At least, nothing peaceful or liberating. Nothing on the horizon. Just pain and longing. A pause, I suppose, or some sort of interruption. Honestly, those are only guesses. The real answers are apparently in the fucking stars. The subject -- along with faces and understanding being more elusive than the answers -- will be my end. I am losing my mind. 1053. Routine finished, dry cleaning on its first cycle, and I built the coat rack which arrived yesterday. It will do the job nicely. Not real easy to assemble, yet my past education and experience being an engineering technician always helps. The rack is a kit, more or less, and those types of products that have been designed and manufactured by computer rarely go together smoothly, meaning a bit of ingenuity comes in handy. I have years behind me building such kits, so no problem. The only governing property in acquiring a coat rack was that it had to have three legs, not four. The floors in these old homes are rarely flat, so four legs means the unit will wobble. Not good. This rack seems to be heavy and stable enough for long-term use without issue. Very nice. Also, I believe my camera accessory is in the mailbox. Cool. I'll have video of Nora very soon. As for the rest of the day, time will tell. I have yet to pour a drink, as well. Just a feeling that it was going to have a very negative effect upon my already shitty mood. Time will tell with that one, too. 1128, second load of dry cleaning, a snack out of the way, fourth show again, very little motivation now. I still have not had any booze because I don't see the point today. Moreover, I may not travel to the other side of the hill for reinforcements due to the feeling that I need to remain behind closed doors. The quoted paragraph above will not leave my head. If the remainder of my life holds nothing of the sort, the subject shall truly be the end of me showing interest in any fucking thing at all... Vacations, projects, whatever. Even my photography hobby is dependent upon the idea and feeling of being 'in the lens', meaning my head has to follow along or I cannot passionately embrace shooting anything. Many times I've stated that this is a bad time. Well, now more than ever. I still can't believe this shit at my age. Midlife crisis? I don't believe so. More like midlife give-up. This is the lousiest episode of the series, and one toward the bottom of the entire franchise. Ugh. I'm letting it run through, however, because of my brain being so fucked up right now. I just don't fucking care.
Several times in the past I've stated that the radii images are going to go away because they cause only harm. I guess not. Here are four more. Do you see? Why do I continue in such a vein when the damage occurs daily? I don't know the fucking answer, assholes. Not a clue. Wishful thinking that the good periods can repeat? Not likely. Too many reasons to list here. Again... I don't fucking care anymore. The imagery gracing each entry will probably cycle over and over from radii to whatever and back again. Splendid. Pissed off as usual. But... What does that mean, exactly? What happens when I become angry? Not much. Mostly I walk out to the garage and play music while working on something. And who should my anger be directed toward? Anyone? Everyone? There are a few in life that I despise right now, but are they solely at fault for my anger? Nope. There are too many facets. People from the past cannot be addressed, and screaming at those who are still alive accomplishes nothing, so I sit here and quietly type. What else do I have? This situation will eventually come to a head and I'll lash, but for now I do not see the point. I'll be just the same after such a blowout, and so will everyone else. No solution means just that. My head keeps returning to the quoted paragraph above. Not good for me or anyone nearby. I need to stop being such a nice person when doing so has become a burden. Maybe I'll change the bed sheets. Whatever. Such is my life now. The affront is a pin. Everything is nothing more than pins. Just pins all over the place, aimed at yours truly. Dry cleaning finished and put away. Now what? Bitching? Lamenting? Anger. Did anyone ever hear me say that this is unfair? Think about it. I mentioned that phrase a while back -- once in the history of the site -- although I was referring to a very different aspect of life. Maybe I should just stop trying. 0816. Thursday. Coffee. Quiet. Ugh. The brain processes... Not a good morning so far. I spoke with my neighbor for a few minutes, still have some coffee at 0901, and the fourth show is once again gracing the big screen. Unfortunately, everything I've written throughout the past several months is all shining, and at the same time. My head cannot easily sort through things and make for a comfortable morning, nor do I believe the future holds anything better. This is a very bad time and does not seem to be changing. As much as I'd like to force the issues, there seems to be nothing I can do right now. 1052. Routine finished and total, depressing fucking failure yet again. I am going to destroy something. All my whiskey is gone, so I opted for the good vodka -- the Costco version of Goose -- for enhancing my shitty mood this morning. Fourth show, still. I have a working solution for the garage speakers being shipped to me. There is a very nice website which holds tons of different enclosure types for mobile speakers, most notably subwoofers. The plans are very clear and concise. There may be enough leftover plywood (not my first choice, yet I do not want to spend money on MDF) to construct two slot-loaded enclosures with extensions to hold the midranges and tweeters. The drivers are all 4-ohm, meaning I'll have to double the woofer count for each channel in order to match the impedance of the home receiver. No problem. The drivers will be in series to allow the amplifier to 'see' an 8-ohm system. The work of building two enclosures, complete with glue, poly batting and silicone, will be quite the project and could keep me busy for days. Hopefully the job can keep my head out of the fucking din which caused the failure in the first place. I am so damned depressed on a daily basis that I've considered beginning another countdown. Yes, I said that. If I cannot affect change between this moment and the second of January next year, my head will become a canoe. Believe it. Wits end. 1224 and lunch (pizza) is in the oven. I switched the fourth show off in favor of the dragons and all that comes with them. The five series' are the only programs which hold very few problems, yet the stories of these more harsh examples are what keep me coming back. I finished the vampires for probably the fifth time just days ago, but already I am feeling as if I need those characters up there again very soon. They bring me comfort of a different type than the science fiction. I believe the familiarity is primarily the reasoning behind my watching so much. The upside is I can watch almost anything while alone. Marjorie is a bit old for Tommen, and the scene involving their wedding night brings up all manner of subjects from the past. Conversation, too. Tons of shit. Good and bad, I suppose. Age is so fucking subjective, now more than ever. She's pretty, though. Well, sometimes, anyway. A shower was nice. I don't take one often these days because, along with shaving, the lack really does not matter in the least. I see no one save for a few cashiers here and there, and they do not know me at all. There is no longer concern for my appearance or how I may come across as a person. Seven hundred days (more, really) have passed since the beginning of the pandemic. I'm here all the time. ALL the time aside from the occasional trip for staples. This situation has gotten to the point of my feeling even more disdain for the world and its inhabitants, for the most part. There are the few who remain higher on my list, though. Very few. That list will likely stay the same for a long time. The shade is down for reducing the glare on my big television. As I went to the kitchen I figured the rest of my day will be spent inside apart from any sudden inspiration. I will tend to the office for a while so the media can keep me company. Later this afternoon I may venture out in case my neighbor is out for some discussion and cheer. Whenever I've lowered the shade in the past, I would tend to focus upon the house rather than the garage. Dim lighting reminds me of the cave. A time when darkness ruled all. And now the clouds are amassing outside and further lending to the dim atmosphere in the house. Excellent. I have to keep one eye on the weather in case there is precipitation. The flags must retract in such a case. This is where we lose the title and the essay goes very badly. Wait for it. 0843 on Saturday morning. I've been reading a little of the inbox-material being sent to me a few times per week, and this morning's subject was that of a billionaire visionary wishing to save the world. Well, more power to you, dude. Good luck, and I hope you do, however my view is radically different right now because I am nothing more than an unemployed dipshit sitting here every day complaining over things about which I can do exactly nothing. I mean, just look at me. No work, my body is losing its ability to perform some everyday tasks due to being somewhat sedentary for two years, I've put on weight as a result of the same, and working around the house as if any of it will be meaningful. But wait a minute... How will my efforts be meaningful if I am completely out of contact with the whole of society? That doesn't add up, people. See? I am no one. My garage still feels like an open, convertible space which shows off some talent and is comfortable, yet still it is nothing in the world. It is 'nowhere'. I have no connection to anything. How is anyone going to see what I've accomplished? Moreover, is there meaning in my accomplishments? Will anything in this house matter when I'm gone? That's a good one. Or a bad one.
There was a part of the article when the man in question was quoted as stating an idea that had already been implemented by other factories, and many years ago. He made it come across as revolutionary, when the reality is others simply were not aware of the manufacturing principles already under way around the world. Hmm... Perhaps all the reporters were too young to know. No idea, but the point is people keep putting his visions and ideas on a pedestal -- admittedly some are far-reaching and real solutions -- when others have designed and already gained from the same. Believe me, I was in the middle of that stuff during the mid-zeros, and connected deeply enough to see it in action. Of course, the individual in question could reach anyone, anywhere who crosses or misquotes, so the details shall remain in the dark. Just know... I already know. The main point is that this person has been intelligent in his moves since the nineties and done very well for himself and many others, whereas I have gone in the opposite direction. Diametric, to be honest. Down a hill I crafted for myself while watching the world fly by. No one is even going to read this because since changing the primary domain, the numbers have fallen off the edge of the planet. I'm going to rise soon and work on part of my routine and then head to the garage to continue the speaker box construction I began yesterday. Think about that for a minute. He is trying to change the world in a very good way, and I am holed up here, smaller than ever. Again... Is any of my shit going to matter? I hate clichés, yet I must employ somewhat of an example as spoken by a favorite actor from the nineties... 'I want to DO something with my life; I want to BE somebody [sic].' Yep. I never did anything. The closest was during the space years when I was a part of several television programs focusing upon research we performed and how it related directly to missions that have since been carried out. I was on television in three countries and multiple stations. I was interviewed by both those crews, the local radio news stations, and two television news stations during my time with the agency. Now look at me. And keep in mind that career ended because I was chasing beauty. Try to imagine just how small I feel right now. Go for it. I need to put more beer in the garage fridge so I can drink out there later and feel like more than what I really am. This could be a red-letter day in the grand scheme of how I feel toward myself. 0703 on Sunday morning. The beer did not work yesterday, although I only had one before returning to the house. The enclosure is nearly finished and looks like shit compared to some of the other projects I've completed in the past. I guess at some point I realized the appearance matters not because both driver cabinets will be up and mostly out of sight. The first part is almost complete. I need to attach the top and then the speaker can be tested. This is the first slot-loaded cabinet I've attempted. Those in the past always had round ports for vents, some being ordered higher than the standard single-chamber. I still need to attach the smaller drivers and find a way to increase the impedance without sacrificing power. Whatever. This will be a slow process due to my already having a complement of drivers on the opposite side of the garage. I am not terribly motivated any longer because my workmanship leaves a bit to be desired. Others will not see it, yet my head will always find the problems. Unlike mounting everything in a vehicle -- which used to be my specialty -- the speaker cabinets will be in the open. Most likely they will blend, anyway. Another mysterious, gorgeous background officer in engineering. There is always something. Flags out. Yesterday was not all bad, but I have this feeling that as the days roll by and the issue with my hips keeps worsening, those moments or afternoons spent out there will be less than satisfying. I furthered the work on the cabinet and took little breaks here and there. I also cleaned out the refrigerator to ease my Sunday work load and get a head start on my typical routine for this day. Overall, yesterday was not too bad. Close to dinner time, we ventured out and made four stops to pick up a few things and then dinner before returning home. I was fairly surprised to have navigated around so many parking lots and other vehicles with ease, especially considering I've been in this house almost exclusively for nearly two weeks aside from the market two miles away. That weird feeling of being out of place or the upset stomach didn't occur. Neither of them. That tells me my mission to remain away from other people likely can be extended without problems arising when I have to leave the house. Even picking up fresh coffee in person showed me that the people out and about are no different than before the pandemic, the opposite of which I suspected quite often throughout the last few months. No paranoia. Not even me being worried about people nearby or what they may be thinking. The only rub was a morsel behind the counter. There is always something, or did I already say that? The episode of the third show on the television last night brought up memories of when it first aired back at the beginning of ninety-three. Just after my birthday, believe it or not. At that time my buddy and I were working swing shift at the glass plant and recording the new episodes every Thursday night on tape. After arriving home in the middle of the night, I would heat some leftover dinner and rewind the tape to see wonder across the little screen in my bedroom. New stories. Premiers. Not until eight months later did my partner and I take off for the Midwest. The time in question represents the last half-year of the real glow. After sitting here yesterday morning and lamenting everything I have not accomplished, recalling that time is like another fucking knife in my heart. I am falling apart. Right there toward the end of the glow, damn it. All sorts of feelings are running through me these days. Another background character looking stunning. There is always something, but on this show I rarely see a woman I've not noticed before. The more the camera and direction attempt to steer a viewer's point of attention, the more I look around what may be going on elsewhere. That's sometimes where the interesting stuff happens. Anyway, I recall seeing her in this episode several times and I believe she will be a tad more in focus later. My head is not well by any stretch of the word, yet nothing can stop me from worsening my own condition. Today I am going to once again relocate the mattress. My old office has turned into partly a storage area, so I believe moving the big table a foot off the wall and standing the mattress behind it will be a good option. She wishes to keep it, so I have to respect that and ensure it is protected. Plus, that will be one less eyesore in the middle of my garage. Once I begin to build the second speaker cabinet, the large sheet of plywood out there will mostly disappear, too. The center area will be back to where it was last summer. Very nice. All this shit will take time, of course, and I fully intend to move along slowly and keep my friends up there. Switching back and forth between the third and fourth shows has my dream of being there flaring severely. I'll have to work through my stuff today and enjoy whatever I can. Sundays are usually ok for the most part. I believe there will be a failure this morning. Not certain, though. I am frightened to death by some, completely disgusted with others (sometimes the very same which frighten me), yet almost uncontrollably drawn to yet different examples. I don't understand this at all and maybe never will. They may be part of the affront... Those causing fear. I really can't stand them most of the time, either. Last night when we stopped to pick up dinner, one of them was in the restaurant and greeted me as she passed by. I have seen her in the past on occasion while at the bar, too. We've been acquainted for years. I don't even know why I brought this up in the first place because the God's honest truth is I do not know what could result from being drawn, and my brain calculates too much risk. Like those of the scary sort, deep inside the few could be disaster, as well. I just do not -- nor cannot -- know what the hell is really happening inside until it is too late. The one up the street that I mentioned way too many times is a perfect example. Oh, there may be some feelings in there, tenderness and whatnot, yet the risk is far too great, meaning distance is the only way. She may be out there, but to be perfectly honest, I would probably simply walk away, go hide somewhere and eventually just die alone while dreaming. Affronted by those who don't even know who the fuck I am. Really? Is that what this has come to? Her."
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