June 26th, 2022 09:26am pdt

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

Vobiscum Sathanas

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I found the rollercoaster girl, saved the entire documentary and have it backed up three ways, and now none of that seems to matter. I gushed for a very long time about her unique, stirring beauty, big, gorgeous eyes, and the fact that she carries all the fucking lines in the world, yet when I consider how I feel on a daily basis, she fades. Everything fades save for a few key feelings. I cannot stress enough how bad this current situation has become. The previous entry was published five fucking minutes ago, and here I am yet again... Very little idea of what to say or why I am doing this in the first place. Nothing I say or do seems to make a damned bit of difference.

1111. The routine is finished and I gathered the remaining ornaments and have them ready for testing. The weather is as of yet cooler than yesterday, although the afternoon is when the house really ramps upward. Bourbon. Fourth show, yet again. I have the next few hours to myself and the space to do whatever seems best. The shit in my head remains, though. No stopping it.

Ray Wise is awesome.

Smiling faces. Generosity. I recall asking a question way back many years ago on the old messenger, way before most social media. The answer caught me off-guard. Oh no, this episode contains the sisters. Damn it. They are going to conjure inescapable imagery. Anyway, that question was answered for the first time in zero three, and again nearly nine years later. Now? The question is no longer raised. I have no one to ask. In fact, there is little chance that question will ever be considered viable. Splendid. More loss, more heartache, more emptiness. The way I think was reinforced by Ashley, but the main idea was not her fault. Now I am angry beyond belief and must contain it constantly. The anger leads nowhere but the garage, and then hours later I am completely weakened, unlocked and disillusioned. No more smiling faces. I see them in my mind, and the dreams typically result in an increased level of anger and feelings of aloneness. The rest of this day will probably involve a trip to the garage for some research and notes, coming back to this infernal machine for updates, and very little else. I am running out of time, but worse is I am running out of ambition. Nothing looks appealing. There is still the occasional yummy lunch combined with a movie or series, but honestly it lasts merely half an hour or so, and then back to the shit. Just shit. I sit here and dream. As I stated way the fuck back during the initial MS days, the dreams are going to kill me. At that time I was referring to my place in life as it related to education and a career, whereas now the only remaining subject is something much more difficult to attain.

That ‘something’ was ripped away and may have been my last bastion of everything in the world. The last opportunity for anything with the raw power to lift me above the ground. Another reason to be really fucking angry. And I mean pure anger. Don’t get me fucking started. Lately, all my strength (what is left of it) has been required to hold my tongue and refrain from destroying everything. Believe it. I am far from fucking kidding.

This anger has led to such a title as I have never employed.

1237 and I am almost completely miserable. I can’t stop thinking about all that has transpired in the course of my life since leaving the valley. The weather is much cooler than yesterday, I tested all of the ornaments, the fourth show is still on the television, I had a snack, yet despite so much going on, I am still sitting here worse off than in many years. Perhaps I should have not contacted the Raven outside the work atmosphere. That was the catalyst for fucking everything. Once there was a small connection and I learned that she did not view me as deviant, the entire works went straight down the fucking drain. This is the truth. I found something I maybe should never have known. I am fucking ruined and my caring during the average day is diminishing at an alarming rate. I shall embrace everything that is bad for me because... Why not? What difference will anything make? No matter the food, television, vacations or anything else, I am going to roll out of bed each morning and sit here completely fucking angry and empty. I never should have seen anything. She stood there and thralled me unlike anything prior, and now years later I have turned into a worthless pile of shit. And don’t forget I threw my entire life into the fucking shitter for a lion not long before the Raven. The lion is gone. The Raven is gone, and I am an idiot. I still can’t lay out the reasons behind all that shit, either. I simply cannot.

Fuck everyone and everything. There is but one course remaining...

Vobiscum Sathanas.

Here I sit on Thursday morning at 0755 with cup of coffee number two and the fourth show up there. Yesterday I did not have the entire day to myself, but today is all me. Right out of the gate was a dream that I can’t discuss. Wonderful. I would prefer to lay it all out here, too. Sometimes doing so helps me to come to terms with the content. Well, not this time. The pendulum was firmly fastened to the wrong side of the circle and I can’t describe the situation here. Not even a little. Curious... The last time I left the details out of a dream was due to the damage. You know. This was not the same. Nowhere near close to similar subject matter. I don’t understand how it came about, either. Now the whole thing feels like nothing more than a huge waste of time. Whatever. I really do not like dreams which leave me questioning myself. I don’t understand why they must come about when I already have enough shit going on. I am using the cloud application again which tells me that the paragraph I continue to mention needs to be relocated to the bottom of the second page, if not further down. I’m fucking sick of being reminded of just how far outside the norm I have become.

Ah... The sisters were on the screen during the beginning of this episode. I had thought they were in another just a day or two ago, but I was mistaken. They only have a few minutes of screen time. I’ll tell you something, though... They make a fantastic impression. Not just uniquely cute, but effective. Really cool.

Yesterday I broke out all of the ornaments and ran some tests. The conclusion is that a custom string for five or six ornaments is going to require lots of time and effort, not to mention the transformer. I’ll have to research it before making a trip down to that big electronics store I’ve been wanting to check out. I may actually drive down there today just because I’m feeling the need to get out of here for a little while. Other than a few shopping trips which barely add up to an hour in total, I am here in this house all the time. Something new seems like a good idea. Time will tell.

I still don’t know what that word means. Another slap in the face came about on the show last night and left me quiet. Soon after, I went straight to be with nary a glance back. The moment floored me, literally, and at a time when I am already wrestling with the word in question. I don’t know what it means. There is a workaround term I’ve been tossing into conversation and such for several years now because I don’t know if I am qualified to describe myself with such a keyword. The lack of meaning has caused a deep loss inside, and none other than the Raven informed me that such a lack can be very unsettling. I still think about that shit from seven fucking years ago, and then society backs it up with even more references and figures and leaves me sitting here without a fucking clue as to what I am. The loss inside does not even allow me to listen to another person regarding such an idea, meaning if I do not believe it, no one else can convince me. Not even a fucking smidgen. The paragraph below is related and goes into a direction I shall never mention here. The word is not easy to consider anymore. Unfortunately, there is no way around it, nor can I eliminate any references without completely eliminating the media from my life. No fucking way. At least I watch alone most of the time. That is a trade, I suppose, and I need not answer to anyone if I remain quiet all the time. The fateful conversation with the Raven way back when we still spent time together becomes dredged up in my head more often now than even a year ago. Issue two was in full swing and sometimes left me pretty fucking pissed off, yet lately I still think about it more often due to the fact that I have no one with which to discuss this shit. My questions go unanswered, although if history is any indication, I would not let anyone gain ground on me anyway because I am far too stubborn to listen to anyone else when I obviously know myself much better. There is no way around this, hence another facet of my perpetually bad mood.


My friends up there on the television are more important now than ever before. They remain as they are no matter what may be going on inside my head, or whether or not I am having trouble on a given day (like right fucking now). Those people will never ridicule me, question my thinking, or take issue with how I feel about any subject. They will not insult or otherwise hurt me. I cannot say the same for society and those within. This morning I have the fourth show up there again. They are my family and can never change. Oh, how I wish I could be there with those people. My issues would disappear almost immediately. Just a thought.

I have a ‘sideways’ head again. Memories, dreams, everything missing, and an uncertain future all contribute to feeling this way. All I have is the keyboard and those mentioned above.

I should already be swilling bourbon. My brain is not well. 0920. Angry.

1054 and the routine is finished. Quite a mess in the kitchen, but I took care of it with my usual zeal. All polished and ready for whatever. I do need to brine the hen and make some pickled onions, though, meaning I’ll be cleaning again. My favorite room of the house is the kitchen. Some quiet work, my friends and family keeping me company, and some time killed off. The bourbon is icy cold and right next to me. I need the alcohol for suppression of desire. Usually it works well, although today seems tougher than the typical morning. I know not why, but I’ll say one thing: This was not caused by that fucking dream. Very much the reverse, that shit. I really didn’t need such thoughts. As for the rest of the day, I don’t believe I’m going to feel like driving down the highway to the electronics store, so the house is it. Maybe I will sit here with this crap for a while, fueled by a hellish combination of emptiness and anger. This is an everyday situation and very likely all I have to look forward to for the rest of my life. Nice. I am expecting the illumination of an ‘avenue’ to an ‘end’, eventually.

‘There is a certain logic to your logic.’ Right on, buddy. Shake my hand. The key is often not what he said, but the way he said it.

On several occasions recently, I’ve mentioned a lack of understanding on my part. I am going to continue to refer to the same because of the pain that subject is causing. I just don’t fucking get it at all. I really tried for a while, yet in the end found that my observations and exposition on the subject fell on deaf ears. In the beginning, all seemed fine. Later? Everything went to hell in a handbasket and what I had thought was a solution to one very large issue went away as quickly as it came about. That situation was fucking ridiculous and made me feel as if my head was not on straight. Well, fuck everyone. My head WAS on straight, for chrissakes. I thought I located the type of connection with enough power to keep my feelings in a positive place. I thought so, anyway. As time progressed, I soon learned that the reverse was slowly being proven. Splendid. As I sit here right now, all these years later, the understanding has been completely hidden away, possibly for all time. This is not good and contributes to my unending disdain for society as a whole. Lies and manipulation... Two pillars holding up the world. I can destroy the source after a very well-rehearsed explanation, as well. I really can. Unfortunately, the result is that I would be exactly the same. Nothing helps, not even the idea of eliminating a problem. One more step down the stairwell of living.

Constance Goodheart has one hell of an ability to scream on command. I love it. You’d think after all this shit throughout the course of years I’d be focused upon her oversized breasts, but you would be wrong. I have respect for her acting. I did mention her breasts, though. Does that mean I went backwards? Eh... No one gives half a shit, anyway. Not even me. I can respect her and still appreciate physical attributes. If you disagree, go fuck yourself in a cold, muddy ditch in Winter.

The title is finally apt. Such a fact may not seem so, but believe me when I say that inside me is evil of the lawful type. What? What did you ask? You don’t understand? Evil is not what you may think, fucksticks. Not everything came about due to televised media. Get your head out of your stupid fucking ass and learn something. The manner in which I ‘think’ is evil. That is not to say that any ‘thoughts’ are going to affect another soul in this world. Again... Learn something. Or, go back to the snowy ditch and continue where you left off, dipshits. To say ‘with Him’, is to say that I agree with a philosophy, and one I am not going to explain. Suffice to say, I have been forcefully driven into a place where the only respect I have is not for anything in reality. Think about that for a minute. The fucked part is that I will remain in this little house, fused to such beliefs, and nothing will EVER come of it. My time has passed. This entry will only become worse as the day moves on.

Or, every day.

Nothing I write or say is going to garner the necessary attention or make a difference. The recipient of my words will likely shy away or offer some empty platitudes with the belief that they can help. This road has a dead end, no doubt. I see nothing on the horizon.

1256 and I had a snack. Some bread from the farmer's market here in town that is freaking delicious. The prices tend to be high, but then again I don't see any product pricing going down anytime soon. Fuel drives everything in the world. When fuel goes up, well... You know. The bread is fantastic. Further into the afternoon I am going to brine the hen and pickle some red onions. Both recipes are quite simple. The fourth show is still up there keeping me company. None of what has taken place today holds the power to improve my mood, however. I am merely passing the time. The smiling faces never let up, nor does anything I do make a difference in the grand scheme. Everything is just loss.

1516. The onions are pickled and chilling, the hen is in the brine, and I have but one more task today. That is cleaning the kitchen a second time. No problem. My extended family shall follow me there for work. As for the projects and other stuff, I may avoid it all and sit at the computer instead. Right now I need to be off my feet for a while. Anything else is tertiary.

The episode playing right now is a two-part story involving not one but two gorgeous characters, both of whom I have spoken before. Susanna and Laura, the latter being possibly the tallest I’ve seen in any of these series, aside from the occasional uncredited part within the third show. Laura is absolutely amazing from head to toe, all stretched and exaggerated like the highest order of runway models. Moreover, she carries one feature partially displayed in this episode as well as one from the fifth series, more than half a decade later. There are all but a few glimpses if one knows when and where to pay attention. That is all I will say. Rarely have I seen the same feature so beautifully rendered. Damn. She aligns with more than one problem. Susanna is representative of one of the most unique faces I’ve seen on television, closely matched by only one other guest actor from the third show.

0651 on Friday morning. Coffee, flags, cat food, fourth show. The usual. I have a bit of time before the morning business. Overcast outside again. Very cool.


Yesterday did not really turn out the way I had hoped. Well, my expectations have been lowered by enough of a degree to where not much needs to be accomplished before they are satisfied, but still, I didn’t do much at all. The onions, brine and dinner preparations kept me in the kitchen for hours, which is nice. I’ll be doing something similar this evening because I have a few ideas to enhance dinner. The rest of today is a mystery. Maybe I’ll branch out and actually drive somewhere. I believe I need to visit the cigarette store, so if anything comes to mind I can take care of it while out. There is always the idea of heading down to the electronics store. One of these days I will actually do it. I became disillusioned with the ornament project, though. Today is wide open to wherever I wish to shift my focus. All of a sudden I am very pleased with all the quiet time ahead. I don’t know from where that feeling came, but I’ll fucking take it. This could delay a trip to the electronics store or anywhere else if I can be comfortable at home. So far, being here is nice.

There is that paragraph again.

0807 and here I am for the duration. I did a little bit of the routine while waiting for her to leave, so later I’ll have less to deal with as we approach lunch time.

Well, they overturned the abortion law from almost fifty years ago. How do I feel about it? Doesn’t matter, because the law will not affect me in any way no matter what happens now or in the future. I used to tell people, ‘when I wake up in the morning with a newly-grown uterus, I’ll tell you how I feel about the issue.’ Heh. I actually do feel a certain way about this, although I’ve not discussed it with another person for three decades. That woman was very insightful and pulled the information out of me, at the same time educating me a bit. I’ve been hearing both sides of this debate throughout almost my entire life. Very interesting that there is a change just now when so many other problems have been taking place. Slow decline, I said, and too many times to recall.

Ah... Today. I definitely need to go to the smoke shop but it is just up the road a piece and on this side of the hill. Nothing is pulling me over the hill as of yet. I don’t know if I want to burn the fuel for gallivanting. The price per gallon has been approaching seven dollars. I might do best to leave the car here other than a jaunt to the store mentioned above. In nearly four years, I’ve rolled a mere 16000 miles on that car, just over the average that a car is driven per year. Not bad.


The quiet is helping, somewhat. My head is not quiet. I’m still thinking about yesterday and trying to describe the situation I cannot understand, yet without really saying anything. No clues. Nothing at all. Just a bunch of phrases all running together and saying – basically – not a damned thought. I don’t care. I had been hoping throughout all that time that the root idea was present, but I was wrong. And then the flim flam film came along and I was completely floored. I hoped that there was some reality involved. Big mistake. By the time I flew to Florida, everything seemed to be coming to an end, both within society and inside my head. Wrong again. I saw the decline of both, however. I just didn’t realize it would progress that slowly. I do not understand, even now. Reflection. Refraction? Rift. I cannot deny that last one. Anyway, the film played out over a long period of time and shoved others away. Now? The shoving has changed. I just don’t fucking understand why some aspects of life must be so damned difficult. And don’t give me any of that headshrinker horseshit, either. I don’t want to hear it right now. The bottom line is I am no longer in a position to force improvement or comfort, meaning the anger shall persist, possibly forever. The quiet is a good thing these days, and a level of enjoyment almost alien to me back when I was still in the workforce. I need to be sure to consider the difference every day. Losing track of those aspects of my current living condition would be very bad. As for the understanding, I may never fucking find it. Marvelous.

Soon I’ll have to finish the routine I began nearly two hours ago. I still have a smidgen of coffee, so I’ll relax with my friends up there and finish the cup before moving around. Everything is under my control, save for a few key items I need in order to survive. One more time... Marvelous.

1057. The routine is finished and I have a load of dry cleaning rolling along. Twenty minutes. Fourth show on the television, fifth season. I guess I’ll cruise right through to the end. I still need to take a trip to the cigarette store. Maybe after I have something to eat. The morning has been a total loss aside from my work. Yep. Foiled again. There may be no end to it. The past rears its ugly head and I wind up motionless as a result. I am fucking sick of this shit. So much so that I can no longer find the words. Maybe I should have cosmetic surgery to add some extra middle fingers. Not funny. Nothing is funny anymore. The house is very quiet because the cats are fast asleep on the bed and there is little to no breeze right now. Roxann has amazing shoulders. I wish I knew why.

I sure miss those big electronics stores. The one across the bay was the ideal destination for an outing over there. Some shopping, lunch at an agreeable restaurant/bar, and a bit of cruising around my hometown. The goddess and I made that trip so many times that I can’t even begin to recall the number. We also visited the other two stores on occasion. Whenever I felt like getting out of here for half a day or more, one of the three was on the list. I drove us all the way across the bay, we shopped for a little while until one of our favorite lunch spots was open, and then we’d relax for a couple of hours with good food, cocktails, and a friendly bartender. The focus had been the electronics store, however. I miss them like nothing else. My heart is broken. The feeling is so deep that I actually miss browsing those stores more than I miss a large number of people. So sad. Perhaps when the day comes that I head down to the supplier on the peninsula, a new era of wonder can begin. I will be alone, though. Not the same. Not by a fucking damned sight. The big three were unlike anything else in the world. My bourbon is icy cold right now. Bourbon plus memories equals a somber mood. Not good.

I just learned that the chain closed all its stores nationwide. I fucking hate everything. Whatever comes into my heart and represents a huge part of my being eventually goes away. And I am not just talking about ‘stores’. I mean EVERYTHING. Fuck everyone. Society has once again shot itself in the foot and left me unhappy. I may have to have an ‘angry’ lunch today.

I am as guilty as the next person for ordering tons of products online and having them shipped here. That is likely the biggest reason for those three places in my heart losing business. The beginning of the pandemic saw an overwhelming increase in home delivery, everything from the simplest household items to automobiles and furniture. I’m guilty of seeking lower prices and less exposure to the outside world. In the beginning, we were told to remain home and work from there if possible, but the bottom line is cost. The pandemic was likely the nail in the coffin after so many other nails, most notably online shopping. The goddess and I made it a point to visit all three over a short period so that I could save the receipts and memories. I also have a shopping bag and gift card. Let me say that right now I would give almost anything to see those places again, and of course I realize I’ve belabored this point since last year. Perhaps my words have a chance of conveying just how deeply embedded those stores are in my heart. Not even the lighted Christmas ornaments from thirty-plus years ago can hold a candle.

I may have just convinced myself to drive to the new store. It’s quite a distance, but when it comes to happiness and wonder, the stretch may be more than worth the expense. I need to go out anyway, so perhaps my brain will follow along and hit the highway in hopes of a new, magical destination to help me deal with such loss. I can only hope. Suffice to say, I will promptly report back right here no matter how the idea develops.


I've been seeing and hearing more military aircraft overhead. Just now -- 1135 -- was a fighter. There is no doubt as to the aircraft type, either. I know my shit after all this time and having been intimately involved in both the space program and defense electronics, not to mention a lifetime of air shows and past military service.

1354 and the wind has completely left my sails. I had some good ideas and was very excited about visiting the electronics store. Well, that went to shit in a cold minute. Having finished the dry cleaning and routine, I spiffed a bit and took off for the cigarette shop and then down the highway anticipating browsing the warehouse of a new supplier. I also felt a tinge of the old magic which could have led to lunch out at one of my restaurants of choice. I found the place, driving into a completely empty parking area, and ventured inside. That’s when everything changed and I lost my drive. The warehouse is no longer open to the public. They sell online only, with pickup via will call. Splendid. The lobby, as I was quickly informed, held a smattering of products as a sample of their inventory. No browsing means no fun. I had hoped that the images I found on the Internet held to the present and was subsequently disappointed. That was almost the last bastion of the past, and one which could have renewed my interest in little lunch-time outings. Nope. I left empty-handed, and rather than finding a comfortable place for lunch, made a beeline straight back here. At least I picked up the cigarettes.

The rest of my day is now shaded by a huge cloud of sadness, as the past has become pushed back even further than prior to the drive. There are three other retailers I can visit, however the closest is nearly an hour down the highway. This just fucking sucks out lout and right down to the ground. The three big stores that have closed now represent more of an era than I had previously believed. Nothing looks appealing other than sitting here dreaming of everything that has gone away. This is the only situation with the power to force the others to fly away for a time. Not good.

My day has gone to shit. I no longer have a direction nor the ability to formulate a path. I really didn't fucking need any more loss on the ledger.

0646 on Saturday morning. The usual.

After driving south to the electronics store and my subsequent disappointment, I returned home and sought options. I then learned that the electronics flea market in the south bay has canceled all events for this calendar year due to losing the space. I am running out of places to shop, and worse, becoming disillusioned about trying to relive at least a tiny bit of what I enjoyed years ago. The availability of surplus has shrunk dramatically. I don’t like it. There used to be a feeling inside me upon entering a few specific stores – most notably the big three – and trying to replicate it in the ‘now’ is not easy. I am unsure if I even have a chance. Everything is so different.

I did find a few places on the map which are still around, one of which being a conglomerate of two others from the past who they apparently bought and combined. That particular surplus warehouse is pretty damned far away. There are three retailers in close proximity to one of my favorite restaurants, though, and very near where my parents’ place of business was located. That was the time of the phase lock girl, remember? Anyway, I may try to plan a trip to that area, my old stomping ground, although there is a strong possibility that being near one of the stores which is now closed may leave me very sad. At least the restaurant is still there. Better than nothing, I guess. I can still imagine the sights and smells of walking through the doors of the largest store and then hearing the automated piano music as we strolled past the return counters. Nothing else like it in the world. The main idea is for me to get a little of that feeling back, even if it means I have to embrace a few changes otherwise viewed as unattractive to me. I have to do something after yesterday’s complete fucking pooch-screw. I need it. And this entry has morphed into a plodding lamentation of the best years gone by. Damn. The late nineties are beginning to rival the glow less than a decade earlier. I am almost constantly reminded of something from one of those two eras; usually resulting in either sadness or anger. This current period, regardless of how I may approach consideration for my very fortunate position, still feels lacking in many ways, especially when held against the promise and wonder of those years that have burned away. I don’t see how the future can possibly hold a candle to the past because nothing is surprising anymore. I’ve gone over this, too. I really need to head down to the south bay and see if I can bring back at least one aspect of the nineties. Lunch, too.

0823 and the morning business is out of the way. I have my routine ahead, very soon, and then I need to prepare some items for making a salad to bring along tomorrow. Another birthday gathering at her parents’ house in the afternoon. I promised I would make the salad because everyone seems to love it. Once everything is finished for the morning, I will probably reach for something to do with the power to occupy my brain for a while. As of yet I have no ideas, unfortunately. Reaching will soon be very necessary.

I guess I have to change the title again. No choice. My topics continue to waver.

1122. Fourth show, still. The routine is finished and I have beets boiling for tomorrow. The gardeners are here right now, meaning the garage is closed. I don’t want them to truncate their leaf blowing due to doors being open. Sometimes I want to grab Roxann and gush everything into her waiting ears. I’ve felt that way about numerous individuals throughout the last half decade or so, always initiating a conversation better left alone. At no time did my wishes bear fruit. Perhaps by now I should have learned. The paragraph below this section of the document is evidence enough that I need some serious fucking help. Said help is impossible anymore. So sad. Everything makes me angry. I need not change the title. The voice from my shoulder is becoming louder and beginning to make good sense to me. Also sad, yet likely inevitable.

0645 on Sunday morning. All gray outside. Socked in. Coffee, cats, flags, blah, blah, blah... Everymorningcakes. No one gives a shit. I do the same routine each morning before sitting here with my friends on the television. Sunday means I have more time due to a lack of weekday business. I do have to make the salad later, though. The rest is however I need it.

Yesterday I ended up nearly finishing the Christmas ornament cord despite being so disillusioned about the project earlier in the day. Something happened and I went to work. The back shrub was further trimmed so I can actually see the trunk, after which I sat in the garage with a few beers and did a bunch of soldering. I will admit to a fair amount of daydreaming on two fronts as I worked, one of them being the aforementioned trips to lunch and shopping. Top among them were in the beginning, way back when I first acquired my car (now two months shy of four years ago). The outings to visit my mom across the bay had been expanded to whatever I wished to do while over there in the area where I grew up. The big electronics store in that town was always the primary destination, everything else being shaped and scheduled around it. I still feel the pull of those trips, especially when the car was new to me. In fact, I can recall the first drive over the bridge to visit my mom in the new car. I know where I stopped and why, plus the route which had not changed since years ago when my dad was in the same hospital. Anyway, the point of this is that the surplus wholesaler is pretty far south, and the time involved was forcing me to hesitate driving down there, not to mention the fuel price. Well, I have all the time in the world, honestly. Yesterday while considering other places to visit during such a trip, I mentioned that there are three other decent places to shop between here and the furthest, and one is right next door to a good lunch place. I’d have to make a half day out of the idea. I’m certain I’ll feel a stab being there, though. I already know it because a drive to the area will be the first since all of the stores closed. After researching this stuff, I simply must plan a trip. If there is any chance to feel even a tiny bit of the past magic, the chance has to be embraced.

That paragraph is still staring at me. Every day, at some point. I really don’t enjoy feeling this way. I need more and more distraction these days, but I know I am only postponing the inevitable. I’ll keep pushing everything away as best I can until everything is completely blown wide open.

Loud voice from the shoulder now. He may be the reason for the work yesterday. Right now I can’t be sure, though.

Often I sit here in the morning and become lost in the past or dreaming of all that is missing. Today is no different, although the idea of taking a trip to relive some memories feels like a small boost. The fact is I really need to do something different. As of yet, I have not come up with any solid plans. The days come and go and are beginning to all look exactly the same. Some of this is really not a problem, though. Applying oneself to living from one day to the next is a lifestyle that many embrace rather than focusing upon the big events that tend to be few and far-between. Daily life can be much more important because it is there regardless of whether or not we wish for the progression of time. Like purchasing a car, when people tend to put much emphasis on the appearance of the vehicle as they walk around it. Well, the truth is they are going to see the car from being positioned in the driver’s seat more than from any other angle or perspective, so the outside look would seem to be the person considering what others will see as they drive. Again, those big vacations or whatever are the small potatoes, as opposed to each day before or since. Everything from rising out of bed to dropping back into the same is what will govern much of life. I just need something else... Different activities than I have been embracing for the last two years (one year, mostly). I’ve really dropped off much of what I had been accomplishing each day. There were long-term goals chipped away a little at a time during the day, and then those little projects I could finish in a matter of hours. The last few months have found me not knowing what to do once the morning routine is out of the way. More and more I am driven toward the past and this is not a good situation. I have hindered myself.

0811. One more cup of coffee and I’ll turn to other parts of the day rather than this crap.

No mention of the girl for a while. I have enough fucking problems. Right now I will have to deal with the present sadness and lack of direction before turning my attention back toward something impossible like ‘her’. The girl must wait, but then again I suppose she isn’t going anywhere, right? Perpetual shit.

The voice helps me to rationalize the anger and put it to work. Today I will do just that. Garbage day means I get to toss stuff in the cans, a process I very much enjoy. ‘We are possessed by what we possess; held in bondage by vested things.’ That's why I need to rid myself of crap. No, I'm not going to put on strange clothing, stand in the airport handing out literature and speak of being ‘free of material things’. I simply need more space. Sunday is the day to streamline. The voice will be right there with me, as I am with it.

0844, last of the coffee, fourth show still on the television, lots to do once I tire of this shit. T-minus six hours until our visit for the birthday party. I’m already looking forward to returning home afterward.

The title may seem to be lost again, however believe me when I say that it is right there behind everything I’ve said. Right there... Always on my fingertips. I simply need to be careful with my words, lest the wrong eyes catch sight of a trigger. That could be bad, and I must refrain from any specifics, much like the obsession and desire. Oh, I realize I’ve already gone into detail regarding several different visions and situations, yet still not much has been said overall. The title is always in the background of every single thought and action. Believe it. The sensitive and subjective natures must be considered. I will admit that my being holed up here for more than two years in general, and the last few months in particular have jaded me to no end. I am the one who has changed. Society only ‘progresses’; it cannot change for the better. I am dead centered between changing for the better and for the worse. I must remain alone because not only do I have no wish to be in social situations (other than the occasional stint in the garage), but I also understand other people less and less as the calendar burns. The title of this entry is my position now, and one having resulted in said lack of understanding combined with anger over all I cannot change, and that which is otherwise impossible. I am not going to improve. Moreover, I need not demonstrate evil. Believing and feeling is enough.

'If one's words are not better than silence, one should keep silent.' If only...

The sun is trying to peek through the fog. Very good. Hopefull, the weather can warm the house today. I've been trying to lay off using the furnace to keep the gas bill in check. This house has exactly zero insulation anywhere, so once the space between the siding/stucco and sheetrock heats, there is little that can be done. Conversely, the cold permeates and holds its own strength through the same means. The temperature can swing nearly twenty degrees in each direction in the course of a single day. I have to deal with it because insulating the attic is expensive and the walls even moreso. Perhaps in the future we can help this little cracker box. I am quite sensitive to temperature. The house is not at fault.

The day will begin shortly. My coffee is waning and I am beginning to feel antsy due to the work. Once it begins, I’ll carry on until it is time to make the salad for the party. In and around everything, my friends and family shall be with me, be it right here, the kitchen, or the garage. I have this house configured for maximum comfort all the time. Without it, I’d be one cunty, miserable fucking asshole. Laugh it up.

I am already there. The past has done its job, and effectively. There is no denying the power of those events and the effects upon my weakened psyche, and that means the opposite power must now be applied. Not a push, but something else entirely. I will not say. Believe me, though... I am already there. This is a facet and byproduct at the same time, and from a place I’ve not mentioned for some time due to being confused as to how I can embrace such a world. Well, I’ve taken the first step to actually, truly understanding. Everything else is secondary, tertiary, or not there at all. A hollow place within which I have to conform to survive, yet inside I know. The forest is evil, and I am inside. Do not approach.

End of line."