Damned Mature content No. 348 Published January 3rd, 2023 7:14am pst read ( words) Past entries "I really believe the process would fail because there have been two occasions in the last seven years in which I reached to someone who would never judge or treat me as if I was fucked in the head, and both went to shit inside me very quickly. The same type of situation would undoubtedly happen again. The only time I was comfortable with a therapist was nearly twenty years ago and that situation cannot hold a candle to this crap. If I were to travel back in time to the very moment my life went aslant, the circumstance could be repaired in a matter of hours. Do you remember ‘Keywords’? That was a landmark and needs to be expanded in the future. Those terms haunt me daily. The relationship between the terms and a possible discussion cannot be denied. The truth is that I fear the words far more than actual living people. There are many reasons for the burning desire. Some even stem from my past. I recall a situation roughly thirty-seven years ago when the idea of this type of need first became a realization. I am referring to a very specific personality trait which cannot be easily found in everyday society. There you go. A clue. The trait is very rare and could be found nearby if I was to search. The downside is that discussion of such a personality is impossible due to the implications which go along with such a word. That is bad. I wish for this type of realization and connection every fucking day and at the same time I know it is not possible. The desire continues to grow beyond my control, too. More every day. Sometimes when I begin to daydream about the kinds of situations that I can’t discuss here, my head goes a bit too far and I end up distraught and in pain. I used to think about this shit but nothing came off it. That fateful dream changed everything and left me completely confused. That single trait and a few other little details have become defining moments in the present time. Defining, meaning my mood and demeanor toward other people become quite pleasant during those moments. The flip side of feeling so much wonder and desire is that after holding up the largest fucking facade imaginable, my mood swings in the opposite direction and I become very angry. I’ve gone off the topic again, damn it. The desire is in my head pretty fucking strong right now. I can’t think straight. Friday morning. I tossed all responsibility into the trash yesterday so I can have today to myself. The time is 0638. Coffee and vampires. I’ll be caring for the early business soon and then returning here for as long as may be necessary for me to feel ok. Yesterday operated as well as could be expected during this current period, and I am hoping today will follow suit. This morning can’t be allowed to turn to shit, though. I really have to think about everything and keep my mind out of the depths. I am not referring to a pair of pants, either, but the dreams that return to me each day no matter my level of difficulty. The depth of my feelings is overwhelming. This morning will be one of those in which I have to keep my head up no matter what kind of visions work their way into my head. Today is Friday. The last time I felt myself overpowered in such a manner was three days ago. I need to keep my head up as the hours pass. The visions involved in this shit are so enticing and beautiful that to hold a balance has become nearly impossible. I almost lost my shit yesterday but turned the anger into production in the garage. A little while later I calmed and began to make dinner. Today has to be filled with solace. I forced the work to bend my way. Now I need to force the time to do the same. 0741 and all is quiet on the western front. I switched from the news back to my friends for a while. Comfort is key and they are important to me. That is a rhyme. ‘My name’s Paul, and this is ‘tween y’all’. People know not to disturb me when I decide to hole up like this. No messages, calls... Nothing. This is the perfect situation and I could not be more pleased with the quiet. I did notice that when everything is peachy, communication with certain individuals is open. As soon as I state that I am not feeling well (regardless of whether or not I am being truthful), I have found that due to not making myself available to work, communication with me is cut off completely. I don’t think that type of behavior is very pleasant. At least my devices are all silent. That is better than nothing. I flexed the garage for a little while yesterday. There is a piece of a slot machine from the late seventies that I had misplaced for some years, and after locating it again I decided to build a display around it so the sign can light when the empire is powered. Well, I didn’t get very far before the weather drove me back into the house. I quieted the garage and shut everything down in preparation for the evening and some dinner. I sure hope this day doesn’t go to shit. Sometimes the dreams and damning thoughts get the best of me and there isn’t anything I can do to save myself. I see certain things or conjure imagery that only I can know about and then everything quickly takes my mind over completely. I’ve been thinking about those situations this morning. Since very early, actually. This is the type of crap I can’t discuss with others. Me having problems is one thing. Perhaps I can learn to cope with everything. Spreading the problems to another person is both risky and unfair, unless I am speaking to a professional, that is. Unlikely. There is concern in my head along with all that has transpired between reality and sleeping, and I have to figure out a way to organize all of it or I may flip out. I don’t want this morning or the afternoon to find me all fucked up again. I need comfort. I WANT her all over me, but I NEED something else. Maybe I have that backwards. I swear to everything holy or whatever else, I have never in my life been pulled with such power. There are very few moments during the typical day when I am not picturing that vision from last week. Crazy? Yes, I am going fucking crazy. Tell me what to do. Thirty-seven-odd years ago I stood in a kitchen and realized the conversation and mannerisms were pointing to the trait I mentioned. That situation was fairly desperate, though. There was not much good in what had been happening due to some pressing matters that I can’t discuss here. Suffice to say, many years passed before I considered that type of personality again, and then many more went by the wayside soon after the second occasion. The next time I was reminded of the first realization was just after the damaging dreams began. The truth is her voice sent my mind back in time and I knew there would be serious issues to come. Those issues have arrived in force and could serve to shape the rest of my life. The damaging dreams have not left my head for more than perhaps an hour at a time. They returned while doing difficult work last month, they come to mind while watching the holiday movies, and any time when I am not busy, they float into my brain and cause difficulty due to the circumstances being so otherworldly. I honestly wish I could reveal why this situation is so fucking disconcerting and painful. Well, here I sit at 1237 with my friends still in the background. They are beautiful and hideous at the same time, but at least I KNOW them. Joe Lee is actually wearing pants for a change. That guy must have spent hours in his fucking briefs for the filming of these episodes. Heh. Anyway, the morning was awful, much like two days ago. Damn. The major plus is that I am at home with zero commitments to be elsewhere. I am in complete control of the environment in this house and whether or not I am in contact with other people. That last part is key. After sloughing off my previous engagements, my head is more relaxed than it would have been had I gone out. I have to look out for myself above all possibilities, good or bad. I may have trouble sometimes while home, but believe me the quiet and space to think far outweigh the difficulties. Even the dreams and visions are taking a break from monopolizing my brain power. I have zero plans for the rest of the day other than some preparations for dinner later. I will most likely remain at the computer for the next few hours, breaks notwithstanding. Whenever I’m working, the appreciation for this type of atmosphere peaks and I dream of being the hell out of there. My eighth starship appeared in the mail earlier and is already gracing the tree, lit and beautiful. There are still two more I’d like to have, but they will take time. Christmas is behind us, so even if they came in the mail soon, I’d still not have the tree up to display the lovely ships. I’ll have to wait a while. 1623. I lost direction again, so here I am for an hour or so before the evening sets in. I have the garage closed off this afternoon because the wind is ramping up fiercely. If the rain comes while there is a gale blowing up, well... Sideways rain, I guess. The last storm woke me up during the night. Wow. There was a vision of flowing hair just now. My brain descended once again and derailed clear thinking. Crap, anyway. The day has been a complete shit show anyway, so why not a vision on top of the pile? Damn. My mornings for the next two days will be long and relaxing. Oh, three, actually. I am looking forward to the quiet, dim atmosphere along with coffee and my deranged friends on the large display. And I mean... De-fucking-ranged. But they are my companions who will never wrong me, ridicule, embarrass, or otherwise fuck me over. They are always the same and I can count on them to be there for me. Always. The coffee time tomorrow morning is sounding better and better as I sit here. Some of the best clarity comes forth during the early morning when the world is still dark and quiet. I can don the MDRs and ensure my footprint is minimal. Almost time for the transition to evening mode. That means I light the room, decorations and tree, and then put a Christmas movie on my big television. 0617 on Saturday morning and here I am with those devices I mentioned. Comfort. The rain outside kept me awake for a bit, plus one strange dream had my head a little goofed up for a while. A woman... Naturally. I’ll get to that later. Right now I am hearing the rain outside right through the fucking MDRs. I can hear it on the roof. One of the reference points of my entire life is on the show right now. He has been a muse for some time, however I have not followed much at all. I don’t like to speak of such things during this difficult period, yet sometimes I am compelled and then driven to type. Between the rain, the dream and the figurehead on the screen, I am beside myself right now. Fortunately, this is a long morning. I shall need it. This morning represents like the fiftieth fucking dream in which I run across a woman previously unknown and then we connect somehow, and very quickly. It’s as if there is some kind of understanding which existed prior to meeting through random circumstances. Remember, I don’t believe in any of the voodoo. Franklin appears to be wearing silk pajamas designed for women in this scene. I never understood why they put him in such a silly outfit. Whatever. Anyway, I was next to my car and thinking about lunch. The car was parked in a large lot next to a shopping mall. For whatever reason, I had a spare wheel that I had planned to use as a chair for resting while I ate. Someone else was there – I believe the woman in question was next to him – and in need of some assistance with his car. I saw her and decided to help. Time flew along at that point, leaving me back at my car and the man was thanking me for help. No sooner did he reach to shake my hand when the woman praised my helpful nature and embraced me. I knew we had a connection – likely the very situation for which I’ve been searching for decades – and a wave of comfort and understanding washed over me. I kissed the top of her head and she held on tight. The other person disappeared. The dream appears to be a sign. A big one. All those months of driving up and down the coast during the early part of the pandemic, right? There I was... Scanning the roadsides and parking lots for ‘something’ to save me. The woman in the dream was there to save me, and I her. What is that? Why am I searching so much? This has nothing to do with the damage, though. Keep that in mind. I just don’t understand why there has always been a hole inside me which pressed me to create my own charge... Years of trying to find an answer. Looking around during the drives was merely a small part of a much larger issue. I still don’t know what it is. What the fuck have I been seeking all this time? The woman in the dream was like so many others in the past; little expressions or gestures which brought comfort deep inside. There is always a point in which I find that everything is fine and the relaxation sets in, after which I awaken to realize nothing has changed. I can’t even begin to count the number of dreams that all carried the same feeling. Even that one with Jamie and I walking on a farm, hand in hand. The location and scenery may have been different, but the feeling was the same. This is something I may never understand. At least the damaging dreams and subsequent overpowering desire have clues. The issue of searching has me feeling completely damned. I don’t know why, nor have I come to learn for whom. This latest dream stayed with me, as well. Most of the time I awaken wondering what I saw and retain only tiny fragments. Maybe such a fact is some sort of lesson, as if the situations I recall will only bother me even more. The damaging dreams and all accompanying shit have temporarily taken a back seat. I’m certain everything will slam my head again whenever there is a vision, much like yesterday. The inherent power within those dreams can only be paused, not stopped completely. Soon, I am sure. No one knows what the phrases ‘closet doors’ or ‘smiling faces’ have to do with anything here. They are important, though. I will say that the damaging dreams relate to both, plus the figure in the dreams carries that wondrous and critical personality trait from decades ago. I don’t believe I can be content or comfortable without the presence of such a thing. No way. The sad truth is that the very idea of that trait is even more important now than it was in the eighties. There were two situations more recently which brought my younger years to mind, and once I made the connection, I realized that the odds of my finding what I need are in the fucking stratosphere. Ugh. The dream this morning reinforced all of it. Andrea was not the same as what I’ve been describing. She was having a very tough time in her life, nothing more. Juliette was similar. Both were on the opposite end of the scale as it relates to the personality trait which has become so important to me. Our connections were different. Mutual need and such. That is all I will say. The weather outside is just as I expected... Sideways rain that is not letting up. The backyard is flooded like always. I don’t know what I can do to help the situation because there is no changing the water table. Drainage? Yes, that would keep the water from pooling in the yard, yet such a project cannot be completed during the rainy season. Any excavation will immediately fill with mud and water. Nothing can be done in the short term. We are just too close to the ocean and on flatland. I can see waves of rain and wind flying by my office window at this very moment. 0815. Throughout the last several months I’ve complained about the paragraph below the writing here in the cloud. For a time, I had other material sandwiched between the top and bottom of the first page, forcing that crap to the end so I couldn’t see it. Well, I’ve reconfigured some of the documents and it has creeped up the page again. I see it. The subject matter may relate to this morning’s dream and the suspicion that what I experienced in the late eighties has never changed. The issue may have simply been suppressed by other aspects of life such as work, living conditions and the like. I can’t remember actually thinking deeply about the trait until much later, as in just over twelve years ago when my world ran aslant. The same thing happened again nearly eight years ago. That situation went to shit, as well. The damaging dreams most likely came about due to my yearning for someone to alleviate the feelings I typed into that paragraph, and the other dreams in which I find true ‘comfort’ have been no different. Like the lines converging on either side or me, this topic is beginning to come together due to my analysis and realizations through dreaming. Very interesting. This may be a landmark entry. It could also be complete bullshit. I guess the damaging dreams have not been shoved to the rear after all. They may be a sign of what is missing inside me. Everything seems to be related. Big fucking surprise. My work today may be restricted to the inside of the house, or possibly the garage with doors closed. Sometimes I can work out there with just the back door closed so the wind can’t carry through, although this level of wind will disrupt anyway. I’ve been out there in the past when a huge gust came along and flowed through the space from one side to the other. Today? That flow would likely include precipitation. Not good. I can still see waves of rain blowing across my horizon. The office affords me a nice view of the nearest hill. Hopefully, the Internet connection doesn’t fail today. Hmm. Thanks to technology having advanced as much as it has recently, if the main Internet line goes down, I can stream programming on my phone and mirror the screen up to the big television. Isn’t that insane? The only rub would be if we lose a cell tower. Not likely. Or worse, if we lose power. Holy crap, the water flowing down the sides of the street is an inch below the sidewalks. Oy. And when I state that the water table is high, well... There is water coming out of a crack near the bottom of my driveway. Yikes. I love this inclement weather, yet at the same time I do worry for the soil outside. The radar shows a mass of precipitation northeast of here, much worse than on the coast. That may be snow on the higher elevations. I don’t envy the problems those people have to deal with during this crazy weather. If I venture to the small market later, the drive will be very interesting. This morning is not shitty like yesterday. My thinking has been clearer, in no small part due to that dream earlier. I am beginning to see that the personality trait from the eighties has had a hand in my thinking over the years and could be the reason I keep dreaming of someone who can ‘save’ me. This is not good, of course, but I suppose understanding more of myself is an improvement no matter the source. I’ll have to continue in this vein for the duration. 0916 and my cocoon is still very quiet. The day will advance when I am ready to walk away from this crap. I’ve been sitting here thinking for three hours this morning. A few breaks out of the chair have been necessary, of course, but the compulsion to continue thinking about these connections is overwhelming right now. Crap? Maybe not anymore. And I am going to wear out another keyboard if I can’t acquire the desktop system soon. The first key to lose its label? The ‘n’. Think about it... 4349 occurrences of the word ‘nothing’. 0950. I went to the garage for a smoke and decided to charge my power tool batteries just in case. The wind is tossing power lines to and fro as if they are made of hair. I have an adapter to charge USB devices from the Makita batteries, just in case. I also have the two power banks fully charged and the phone plugged into the wall right now. Lots of options. And don’t even get me started on the mass of candles in the house and garage. Preparations are important if the grid falls away. One other little morsel... I poured a nice glass of whiskey to calm my thoughts. ‘Opposite thinking, lieutenant.’ Heh. Aw, geez... Holly has arrived within the show. That woman is fucking scary. ‘This is Holly, your new waitress. Don’t sleep with her.’ – Jayzus, Arlene is fucking awesome. And Crystal is so damned ‘backwoods’ that I can’t even find the words. Rather cute sometimes, though. Another heh. Alfre Woodard, too. I could go on all day about this show. The house is still very quiet except for the occasional wind gust outside. I looked at the radar and the heaviest precipitation is yet to come. Wow. At least I get to see the weather, unlike when the harshest conditions occur overnight. I love this stuff. Anyway, due to the quiet this morning, I suppose I’ll be sitting here for a while. The cocktail will help to mellow my head and keep me from becoming overly angry. Ever since connecting present issues to the past and that one afternoon conversation in a kitchen, I’ve been feeling more analytical rather than pissy this morning. The relationship between the ‘trait’ and the damaging dreams is very clear. I can understand why my head has gone in such a direction. There is no way I am going to find a way to connect everything, but a start is better than nothing. Those fucking dreams are still very clear after all this time, and that fact points to the idea that she is important to me. Well, not just her beauty and hair and voice (and more), either. I believe the image of what she is has taken priority over the mass of desire I’ve been trying to push away. Hadley’s breasts bounce all over the place when she walks. Sue me. Where was I? Ah... The subject of the damaging dreams is a representation of every fucking trait I have sought for many years, not just the more vocal details in the last few years. I cannot say why, however. The reveal, as it were, would damage me beyond comprehension. Uh oh, Talbot just asked Eric to disrobe and cleared others from the room. The whole of the female viewership likely stood at attention. If I were on the other side of the fence, there is no doubt I would have gone insane. Talbot is so fucking incredible as a character that I honestly believe his performance smashes some entire series’. That is not a joke. Again... Where was I? The connection between that and the other thing. There you go. She is amazing to see and hear, and my brain has latched to her personality unlike ever before, and unlike with anyone. The mere sound of her voice is enough to send my day sideways no matter what might be taking place. To say that I want her is tantamount to the greatest understatement in the history of the spoken word. Now that I have realized how much my feelings for her relate to that moment in the eighties, this content is going to head off the rails with the force of a thousand wrecking balls. She carries everything and I cannot say why. Believe me, I wish I could spill it all. Analytical, indeed. This morning has been wondrous, in a manner of speaking. The weather is continuing to pummel the house and yard. Since there is nothing I can do about it, I have chosen to enjoy the way the planet shrinks people to minuscule creatures at the mercy of planetary forces. Perhaps this storm system is contributing to my productive thinking. Kaj-Erik Eriksen would have made an excellent addition to this show. He is so fantastic that I can’t even find the words. Within the story, Eric is Norwegian (though Alexander Skarsgaard – the actor – is actually Swedish) and comes from a long, honorable line of Viking people, and I believe Eriksen could have expanded the backstory greatly. Just a thought. Do some research. The more I run through this series, the more I love it. I have to continue with this shit until something changes. Contrary to the multitude of statements I’ve made in recent years regarding the final solution, the truth is I have become too interested in finding answers to force that type of situation, and the feeling today is I am closer than ever. Jesus, the rain is heavy right now. I can see it bouncing off the roof of the cars outside. Sheets of rain, honestly. Ah, shit. Eric’s character is Swedish. Oops. Anyway, the writing may have ceased on the site, but I have never felt that publishing my thoughts and feelings was helpful. The point is to learn about myself and how I turned out this way. I’ve stated that time and circumstances are responsible for my condition, yet both can be explored in greater detail for the higher purpose of learning. Information is power, and I have unearthed just enough to believe that this process is actually helping me understand myself. If I keep going and find no answers, there is little I can do about it. The possibility of improvement and/or an end to my dire thinking processes dictates that this must continue. The time is 1100 straight up and I am just shy of sitting here on and off for five hours. That is an indication in and of itself. 0944 on the first day of the new year. This will be an old year in a few months. Heh. The sun is shining, unlike yesterday, and dinner for the holiday is in about five hours. I have to make a salad and take care of my usual stuff. Oh, and today is Sunday. Garbage work awaits. Last night? More visions. Lots of them. I also saw the lower face thingy that I have failed to adequately describe. Just look at Lacey some time and you’ll see it. The visions went far beyond the appearance of a face, however. I will refrain from going into detail because after all this time I don’t believe it is necessary. Just know that my desire for certain very elusive appearances and the frosting of life has expanded greatly in the space of the holiday season. One week. That’s right, folks. It is overwhelming. I keep seeing things that are damaging me (and damning me). I don’t recall a time in my life when I felt this much desire. Maggie was pretty fucking close, though. I can’t go into why, however. She was amazing to see. Anyway, I feel more now than a mere week ago. I don’t want this to become a problem. The visions will not stop, meaning I have to fucking deal with them. The dreams may return as well. I can’t do anything about my subconscious. Too bad. As I mentioned, the harsh weather has passed for the time being. I’ll need to take advantage of the clear sky and care for my business prior to leaving for dinner across town. I have much to do. Monday morning, January the second. I believe rain is coming again soon. I have the entire day to myself and will be alone for a few hours later. Yesterday was ok, I guess, because I was able to take care of all my business within a decent window. The evening proved fairly relaxing. This morning? Oh, much better. Aside from laundry and a load of dry cleaning, I have very little that is pressing today. Moreover, I am now in a position to acquire the desktop machine and complete this office. Very good. That means in and around everything else today I’ll be researching computers. I am looking forward to freeing this machine from the desk and operating a new system with five times the power. I’ve been relying upon this laptop for more than five years. I know there is nothing to worry about due to its lack of moving parts, but still... I need longevity in a computer and wish to use this as an auxiliary way to write and edit. The desktop configuration – meaning the layout on both displays – will be permanent. Today’s free time will help me consider my options. One might believe that I am actually doing pretty well. Regarding the comfort of being in this house and shaping the atmosphere to suit my needs, I am doing well. I shoved the work away last week because I didn’t feel like going, and that is the most power I have been able to flex in years. In the past, this second day of the new year had always been very sad and drove me to depression for two reasons. First, it represented the closing of my favorite holiday season, and second, the outlook of the days becoming longer and nothing on the horizon but work weeks combined to dim my view of everything. The road to October is quite long. The fact that I can tell everyone to take a flying leap is a big plus. I am still sideways despite the glaring positives above. The combination of the desktop and my depression will create a positive situation, as odd as that may sound. I am going to feel like shit anyway, so I may as well be comfortable and operating a powerful office. Like the man said back in the eighteen hundreds, ‘Never met a rich man with a guilty conscience.’ And his counterpart’s reply, ‘I already got the guilty conscience. Might as well have the money, too.’ I apologize for the grammar. I did not write the film. The point is that I am not going to improve anytime soon, so if the plan is to sit here and explore, I should at least have a good machine and a comfortable chair. Oh, and the programs I need in the background, too. The permanence of my feelings toward all things negative will dictate my mood and the office will follow, much like in the past. I had thought that being so distraught over my inability to relate to a certain woman of my dreams was difficult, and that period centered upon my office time, if that makes sense. Well, I actually don’t care. The current period has proven far worse just since Thanksgiving. I can’t even imagine feeling more about this shit, but the new year may bring me to an even darker place. I’ll be spending as much time in this office as possible. As I said, I’m going to be all fucked up anyway. I may as well build myself another cocoon and fully embrace the darkness. Still no rain as of 0758. I’m sure it’s coming soon. And the garbage trucks have been up and down the street for the last hour, bless them. Sometimes I wish the first dream had not occurred. Months later, I feel as if I am being haunted by the subject matter and the person involved in that scene. Haunted. The pictures flip through me like Satan’s own Rolodex and there is nothing I can do to change that fact. When the visions come along, my inner being shuts off for the most part and I have to go into a protective stance in order to keep my feelings buried. The feelings are strong (and strange). The difference between this morning and that of the first dream – the bra strap and manicured fingers – is that my fear of what I am becoming has grown out of control. I simply cannot eliminate the memories, nor do I have any control over dreams, so all I can do is sit here and try to understand. The last vision really fucked up my head. Right there... And? A billion miles away. I have never wanted anything so much. This is going to help me transition from unknowing and uncertain about my mental state to a person who is completely certifiable. Go ahead and laugh; I don’t fucking care. Maybe part of the reason I pulled all of the content is some subconscious realization that people in the world are indeed finding my words humorous. Anyway, that first vision of her changed the inside of me much more than I could have realized at the time. Throughout the ensuing months, I found more examples of reinforcement of my feelings, with the first vision remaining at the top of the list for catalyzing my deep desire. Sometimes those occurrences come along and push me into thinking that I am much further gone than originally thought. The realizations I mentioned have been numerous, and the more the calendar continues to flip over, the deeper down I fall, meaning that on a daily basis my mind seeks and finds ways of rationalizing all this shit. Eventually, situations arise and force me to see what I may look like to other people. No sooner do I begin to turn inward for protection when the first dream comes back and fills me with uncertainty over the future. The process is worsening as I sit in this chair. There is nothing I can do about it due to the fucking failed fantasy. There you go... Laugh some more. There is that paragraph again. Believe me... It relates to this latest shit (this year) more than I had thought months ago. Some of the keywords apply to this but I am not going to repeat them. Not by a damned sight. All I can do is fucking sit on the information. A year ago I stated that I never could have imagined ending up like this after so many years. Well, now there is another nail being driven into my head to make me recite the same line. Splendid. Two for the price of one year. We have begun to live through twenty-three. What’s on the schedule? Another fucking stab to my heart? The paragraph below is going to follow along because I must have the reminder in perpetuity, if for no other reason than to continue to figure out if there is only one common denominator or more. Right now I see two, but I could be wrong about one of them. The paragraph will not allow me to forget or become complacent, ever. The words must remain on this page. Jesus fucking holy hell in a bra cup is Tammy ever something to see. Oh, would I ever love to... Tongue. Nose. Over and out. I don’t think the others with which I have worked understand the importance of the time I am enjoying at this moment. Free time to think, plan, or whatever, has become so critical to my well-being that I don’t believe anyone else can understand it without actually being inside my head. I cannot stress this shit enough, honestly. I will not push to make people see this from my point of view, either. That would be a waste of time. Eh... No one is going to be near me anytime soon, so this doesn’t really matter much anyway. Fuck it. A mass of free time is one of the most important aspects of my life. I’ll have to get out of this office soon. The morning is nice and quiet, but I need to remember that moving around is important after sitting in front of the screens. 0929. The time for rain is at hand. I was able to roll the cans up the driveway just as the first drops began to fall. Now I can remain indoors other than venturing into the garage for some laundry in a little while. The routine will be quick today. And the time is later. 1131. My routine is finished with dishes drip-drying. I’ll polish everything after lunch. The next several hours will be quiet and peaceful. That is very good because I need the time and space to think without interruption. The big plus to this morning? I configured and ordered the desktop machine. It should arrive in the next two weeks. Seeing as how this office has languished for a few years, the new setup should prove rewarding beyond belief. That means the recent work in this room shall continue so I can bring back the days of old. This is the best development in years. In addition, the laptop will remain in my hands should the need for mobile editing arise. I really love this machine, too. It is not going anywhere except to follow me on a future vacation. Maybe I should pull down the icicle lights before too much rain arrives. Ugh. I really don’t feel like it, though. Having my morning work finished and the quiet of the office – along with my glass of yummy depressant – pushes my head to want to remain inside the house for a while. Wow, this one faerie on the show is fucking frightening and awesome at the same time. Yikes. Anyway, I’ll sit with the editor and cloud for a while before heading in other directions. There is plenty of time to have everything accomplished before close of business hours. The lights? I don’t know. Ok, I have the dry cleaning in process, laundry in the washer, and I pulled all of the Christmas lights off the roof. Not a drop of rain has fallen as of yet. Very good. My friends are keeping me company on the second display. I went from a sleepy clambake yesterday to virtual comfort less than a day later. I keep thinking of the desktop system, too. The arrival of that machine will represent a powerful turning point the likes of which have not been experienced by me in a few years. I am really looking forward to working toward the office returning to its former glory. And? I have another starship ornament coming in the mail soon. Basket case. There has been another slight. I have not mentioned it for some weeks because of the delicate nature of this type of situation. As usual, there will be only enough information for me to know of the details, of course. And a note regarding that last point... Two such events have transpired since Halloween, plus the issue of the damaging dreams continues to plague the site. Not a soul on earth, no matter their possible level of clairvoyance, knows what the fuck I’ve been speaking about since summer. No one. Back to the slight. I tightened the content here because I no longer believe anything positive can develop from others’ eyes upon my work. Nothing. I can read everything, though, and that is the main point of my bringing up the slight. I do not foresee a time when the material will return to the production environment. Words can be uplifting and beautiful, or they can come across as violent and belittling. For reasons of fear and good form, I must regard the site in a certain way due to the latter. Being slighted is not something I take lightly. Live with it. And? Go away. I can only deal with so much, and the limit was reached five fucking months ago. Leave me the fuck alone. This is for no one else. NO ONE. If you think you are involved because of reading the site for a long time, fucking think again, dipshits. My life is operated from the standpoint that I am alone, hence the words following suit. This is it, you Goddamned shit-brains. Did you go to school? Maybe college? Fucking FIGURE IT OUT. 'Where now? Feed me! Hold me! Save me! SAVE YOURSELF! Where now? Which way? Dear God, show me. Take your own. Struggle free! Arise! You're Ruined! Stand down! Your kin; piled thick; around you. SAVE YOURSELF!' So, now that the little posturing is out of the way, the writing can continue. This is Tuesday morning. 0632. I have coffee and vampires, the cats have been fed and my office is dark and quiet. This type of morning is very relaxing. Space to think, and all that shit. I’ll have some business in a little while. For now? I don’t care. Nothing really happened yesterday because I kept myself out of harm’s way for the most part. I remained inside the house and away from anything which could have exacerbated what I am feeling this morning. Today may be similar. I’d like to avoid people again and work inside the office for a while. I would also like to continue removing some of the holiday stuff that is battery powered. Oh, and I didn’t do much laundry yesterday because I was distracted and the rain interrupted my pace. That is on today’s list. Honestly, part of yesterday was derailed due to ordering the desktop computer. This is a big deal. I am beginning to feel as if my ‘control center’ is returning, better than in the past, and the excitement over working within the office every day pulled my attention from other chores. The comfort and importance of what I’ve accomplished inside this very room for more than nine years cannot be overstated, plus for some reason I feel as if I hold a bit of power in my hands while sitting at the table. At least, I’ve felt it in the past. Completely damned. I am in that place because of two converging situations; one close, one far. The dreams of ‘her’ – like that one involving Jamie or someone else with the ability and willingness to save me – are on the heels of dreaming of damaging situations which have been everything but helpful, and far from easy to understand. Both are in mind every day. There is nothing I can do about either of the two images in my brain. Nothing. I know that there is a woman not far from here who could be the actual culmination of everything I’ve sought and needed for years (well, aside from last year’s damage). She could also be nothing more than a person and completely different from all the shit I have conjured throughout the years. I don’t know and will never know. Such a stumbling block seems to elude others’ understanding. I can’t fucking do anything about that and this current period is not my fault, nor can I do anything about it or the way people may feel. Thrice damned. Why? Because the likelihood of finding the soul I have needed for decades is far more elusive than the chance of the damaging dreams coming true. And what is worse? The possibility of those two being the exact same person. Damned." 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Damned Mature content No. 348 Published January 3rd, 2023 7:14am pst read ( words) Past entries "I really believe the process would fail because there have been two occasions in the last seven years in which I reached to someone who would never judge or treat me as if I was fucked in the head, and both went to shit inside me very quickly. The same type of situation would undoubtedly happen again. The only time I was comfortable with a therapist was nearly twenty years ago and that situation cannot hold a candle to this crap. If I were to travel back in time to the very moment my life went aslant, the circumstance could be repaired in a matter of hours. Do you remember ‘Keywords’? That was a landmark and needs to be expanded in the future. Those terms haunt me daily. The relationship between the terms and a possible discussion cannot be denied. The truth is that I fear the words far more than actual living people. There are many reasons for the burning desire. Some even stem from my past. I recall a situation roughly thirty-seven years ago when the idea of this type of need first became a realization. I am referring to a very specific personality trait which cannot be easily found in everyday society. There you go. A clue. The trait is very rare and could be found nearby if I was to search. The downside is that discussion of such a personality is impossible due to the implications which go along with such a word. That is bad. I wish for this type of realization and connection every fucking day and at the same time I know it is not possible. The desire continues to grow beyond my control, too. More every day. Sometimes when I begin to daydream about the kinds of situations that I can’t discuss here, my head goes a bit too far and I end up distraught and in pain. I used to think about this shit but nothing came off it. That fateful dream changed everything and left me completely confused. That single trait and a few other little details have become defining moments in the present time. Defining, meaning my mood and demeanor toward other people become quite pleasant during those moments. The flip side of feeling so much wonder and desire is that after holding up the largest fucking facade imaginable, my mood swings in the opposite direction and I become very angry. I’ve gone off the topic again, damn it. The desire is in my head pretty fucking strong right now. I can’t think straight. Friday morning. I tossed all responsibility into the trash yesterday so I can have today to myself. The time is 0638. Coffee and vampires. I’ll be caring for the early business soon and then returning here for as long as may be necessary for me to feel ok. Yesterday operated as well as could be expected during this current period, and I am hoping today will follow suit. This morning can’t be allowed to turn to shit, though. I really have to think about everything and keep my mind out of the depths. I am not referring to a pair of pants, either, but the dreams that return to me each day no matter my level of difficulty. The depth of my feelings is overwhelming. This morning will be one of those in which I have to keep my head up no matter what kind of visions work their way into my head. Today is Friday. The last time I felt myself overpowered in such a manner was three days ago. I need to keep my head up as the hours pass. The visions involved in this shit are so enticing and beautiful that to hold a balance has become nearly impossible. I almost lost my shit yesterday but turned the anger into production in the garage. A little while later I calmed and began to make dinner. Today has to be filled with solace. I forced the work to bend my way. Now I need to force the time to do the same. 0741 and all is quiet on the western front. I switched from the news back to my friends for a while. Comfort is key and they are important to me. That is a rhyme. ‘My name’s Paul, and this is ‘tween y’all’. People know not to disturb me when I decide to hole up like this. No messages, calls... Nothing. This is the perfect situation and I could not be more pleased with the quiet. I did notice that when everything is peachy, communication with certain individuals is open. As soon as I state that I am not feeling well (regardless of whether or not I am being truthful), I have found that due to not making myself available to work, communication with me is cut off completely. I don’t think that type of behavior is very pleasant. At least my devices are all silent. That is better than nothing. I flexed the garage for a little while yesterday. There is a piece of a slot machine from the late seventies that I had misplaced for some years, and after locating it again I decided to build a display around it so the sign can light when the empire is powered. Well, I didn’t get very far before the weather drove me back into the house. I quieted the garage and shut everything down in preparation for the evening and some dinner. I sure hope this day doesn’t go to shit. Sometimes the dreams and damning thoughts get the best of me and there isn’t anything I can do to save myself. I see certain things or conjure imagery that only I can know about and then everything quickly takes my mind over completely. I’ve been thinking about those situations this morning. Since very early, actually. This is the type of crap I can’t discuss with others. Me having problems is one thing. Perhaps I can learn to cope with everything. Spreading the problems to another person is both risky and unfair, unless I am speaking to a professional, that is. Unlikely. There is concern in my head along with all that has transpired between reality and sleeping, and I have to figure out a way to organize all of it or I may flip out. I don’t want this morning or the afternoon to find me all fucked up again. I need comfort. I WANT her all over me, but I NEED something else. Maybe I have that backwards. I swear to everything holy or whatever else, I have never in my life been pulled with such power. There are very few moments during the typical day when I am not picturing that vision from last week. Crazy? Yes, I am going fucking crazy. Tell me what to do. Thirty-seven-odd years ago I stood in a kitchen and realized the conversation and mannerisms were pointing to the trait I mentioned. That situation was fairly desperate, though. There was not much good in what had been happening due to some pressing matters that I can’t discuss here. Suffice to say, many years passed before I considered that type of personality again, and then many more went by the wayside soon after the second occasion. The next time I was reminded of the first realization was just after the damaging dreams began. The truth is her voice sent my mind back in time and I knew there would be serious issues to come. Those issues have arrived in force and could serve to shape the rest of my life. The damaging dreams have not left my head for more than perhaps an hour at a time. They returned while doing difficult work last month, they come to mind while watching the holiday movies, and any time when I am not busy, they float into my brain and cause difficulty due to the circumstances being so otherworldly. I honestly wish I could reveal why this situation is so fucking disconcerting and painful. Well, here I sit at 1237 with my friends still in the background. They are beautiful and hideous at the same time, but at least I KNOW them. Joe Lee is actually wearing pants for a change. That guy must have spent hours in his fucking briefs for the filming of these episodes. Heh. Anyway, the morning was awful, much like two days ago. Damn. The major plus is that I am at home with zero commitments to be elsewhere. I am in complete control of the environment in this house and whether or not I am in contact with other people. That last part is key. After sloughing off my previous engagements, my head is more relaxed than it would have been had I gone out. I have to look out for myself above all possibilities, good or bad. I may have trouble sometimes while home, but believe me the quiet and space to think far outweigh the difficulties. Even the dreams and visions are taking a break from monopolizing my brain power. I have zero plans for the rest of the day other than some preparations for dinner later. I will most likely remain at the computer for the next few hours, breaks notwithstanding. Whenever I’m working, the appreciation for this type of atmosphere peaks and I dream of being the hell out of there. My eighth starship appeared in the mail earlier and is already gracing the tree, lit and beautiful. There are still two more I’d like to have, but they will take time. Christmas is behind us, so even if they came in the mail soon, I’d still not have the tree up to display the lovely ships. I’ll have to wait a while. 1623. I lost direction again, so here I am for an hour or so before the evening sets in. I have the garage closed off this afternoon because the wind is ramping up fiercely. If the rain comes while there is a gale blowing up, well... Sideways rain, I guess. The last storm woke me up during the night. Wow. There was a vision of flowing hair just now. My brain descended once again and derailed clear thinking. Crap, anyway. The day has been a complete shit show anyway, so why not a vision on top of the pile? Damn. My mornings for the next two days will be long and relaxing. Oh, three, actually. I am looking forward to the quiet, dim atmosphere along with coffee and my deranged friends on the large display. And I mean... De-fucking-ranged. But they are my companions who will never wrong me, ridicule, embarrass, or otherwise fuck me over. They are always the same and I can count on them to be there for me. Always. The coffee time tomorrow morning is sounding better and better as I sit here. Some of the best clarity comes forth during the early morning when the world is still dark and quiet. I can don the MDRs and ensure my footprint is minimal. Almost time for the transition to evening mode. That means I light the room, decorations and tree, and then put a Christmas movie on my big television. 0617 on Saturday morning and here I am with those devices I mentioned. Comfort. The rain outside kept me awake for a bit, plus one strange dream had my head a little goofed up for a while. A woman... Naturally. I’ll get to that later. Right now I am hearing the rain outside right through the fucking MDRs. I can hear it on the roof. One of the reference points of my entire life is on the show right now. He has been a muse for some time, however I have not followed much at all. I don’t like to speak of such things during this difficult period, yet sometimes I am compelled and then driven to type. Between the rain, the dream and the figurehead on the screen, I am beside myself right now. Fortunately, this is a long morning. I shall need it. This morning represents like the fiftieth fucking dream in which I run across a woman previously unknown and then we connect somehow, and very quickly. It’s as if there is some kind of understanding which existed prior to meeting through random circumstances. Remember, I don’t believe in any of the voodoo. Franklin appears to be wearing silk pajamas designed for women in this scene. I never understood why they put him in such a silly outfit. Whatever. Anyway, I was next to my car and thinking about lunch. The car was parked in a large lot next to a shopping mall. For whatever reason, I had a spare wheel that I had planned to use as a chair for resting while I ate. Someone else was there – I believe the woman in question was next to him – and in need of some assistance with his car. I saw her and decided to help. Time flew along at that point, leaving me back at my car and the man was thanking me for help. No sooner did he reach to shake my hand when the woman praised my helpful nature and embraced me. I knew we had a connection – likely the very situation for which I’ve been searching for decades – and a wave of comfort and understanding washed over me. I kissed the top of her head and she held on tight. The other person disappeared. The dream appears to be a sign. A big one. All those months of driving up and down the coast during the early part of the pandemic, right? There I was... Scanning the roadsides and parking lots for ‘something’ to save me. The woman in the dream was there to save me, and I her. What is that? Why am I searching so much? This has nothing to do with the damage, though. Keep that in mind. I just don’t understand why there has always been a hole inside me which pressed me to create my own charge... Years of trying to find an answer. Looking around during the drives was merely a small part of a much larger issue. I still don’t know what it is. What the fuck have I been seeking all this time? The woman in the dream was like so many others in the past; little expressions or gestures which brought comfort deep inside. There is always a point in which I find that everything is fine and the relaxation sets in, after which I awaken to realize nothing has changed. I can’t even begin to count the number of dreams that all carried the same feeling. Even that one with Jamie and I walking on a farm, hand in hand. The location and scenery may have been different, but the feeling was the same. This is something I may never understand. At least the damaging dreams and subsequent overpowering desire have clues. The issue of searching has me feeling completely damned. I don’t know why, nor have I come to learn for whom. This latest dream stayed with me, as well. Most of the time I awaken wondering what I saw and retain only tiny fragments. Maybe such a fact is some sort of lesson, as if the situations I recall will only bother me even more. The damaging dreams and all accompanying shit have temporarily taken a back seat. I’m certain everything will slam my head again whenever there is a vision, much like yesterday. The inherent power within those dreams can only be paused, not stopped completely. Soon, I am sure. No one knows what the phrases ‘closet doors’ or ‘smiling faces’ have to do with anything here. They are important, though. I will say that the damaging dreams relate to both, plus the figure in the dreams carries that wondrous and critical personality trait from decades ago. I don’t believe I can be content or comfortable without the presence of such a thing. No way. The sad truth is that the very idea of that trait is even more important now than it was in the eighties. There were two situations more recently which brought my younger years to mind, and once I made the connection, I realized that the odds of my finding what I need are in the fucking stratosphere. Ugh. The dream this morning reinforced all of it. Andrea was not the same as what I’ve been describing. She was having a very tough time in her life, nothing more. Juliette was similar. Both were on the opposite end of the scale as it relates to the personality trait which has become so important to me. Our connections were different. Mutual need and such. That is all I will say. The weather outside is just as I expected... Sideways rain that is not letting up. The backyard is flooded like always. I don’t know what I can do to help the situation because there is no changing the water table. Drainage? Yes, that would keep the water from pooling in the yard, yet such a project cannot be completed during the rainy season. Any excavation will immediately fill with mud and water. Nothing can be done in the short term. We are just too close to the ocean and on flatland. I can see waves of rain and wind flying by my office window at this very moment. 0815. Throughout the last several months I’ve complained about the paragraph below the writing here in the cloud. For a time, I had other material sandwiched between the top and bottom of the first page, forcing that crap to the end so I couldn’t see it. Well, I’ve reconfigured some of the documents and it has creeped up the page again. I see it. The subject matter may relate to this morning’s dream and the suspicion that what I experienced in the late eighties has never changed. The issue may have simply been suppressed by other aspects of life such as work, living conditions and the like. I can’t remember actually thinking deeply about the trait until much later, as in just over twelve years ago when my world ran aslant. The same thing happened again nearly eight years ago. That situation went to shit, as well. The damaging dreams most likely came about due to my yearning for someone to alleviate the feelings I typed into that paragraph, and the other dreams in which I find true ‘comfort’ have been no different. Like the lines converging on either side or me, this topic is beginning to come together due to my analysis and realizations through dreaming. Very interesting. This may be a landmark entry. It could also be complete bullshit. I guess the damaging dreams have not been shoved to the rear after all. They may be a sign of what is missing inside me. Everything seems to be related. Big fucking surprise. My work today may be restricted to the inside of the house, or possibly the garage with doors closed. Sometimes I can work out there with just the back door closed so the wind can’t carry through, although this level of wind will disrupt anyway. I’ve been out there in the past when a huge gust came along and flowed through the space from one side to the other. Today? That flow would likely include precipitation. Not good. I can still see waves of rain blowing across my horizon. The office affords me a nice view of the nearest hill. Hopefully, the Internet connection doesn’t fail today. Hmm. Thanks to technology having advanced as much as it has recently, if the main Internet line goes down, I can stream programming on my phone and mirror the screen up to the big television. Isn’t that insane? The only rub would be if we lose a cell tower. Not likely. Or worse, if we lose power. Holy crap, the water flowing down the sides of the street is an inch below the sidewalks. Oy. And when I state that the water table is high, well... There is water coming out of a crack near the bottom of my driveway. Yikes. I love this inclement weather, yet at the same time I do worry for the soil outside. The radar shows a mass of precipitation northeast of here, much worse than on the coast. That may be snow on the higher elevations. I don’t envy the problems those people have to deal with during this crazy weather. If I venture to the small market later, the drive will be very interesting. This morning is not shitty like yesterday. My thinking has been clearer, in no small part due to that dream earlier. I am beginning to see that the personality trait from the eighties has had a hand in my thinking over the years and could be the reason I keep dreaming of someone who can ‘save’ me. This is not good, of course, but I suppose understanding more of myself is an improvement no matter the source. I’ll have to continue in this vein for the duration. 0916 and my cocoon is still very quiet. The day will advance when I am ready to walk away from this crap. I’ve been sitting here thinking for three hours this morning. A few breaks out of the chair have been necessary, of course, but the compulsion to continue thinking about these connections is overwhelming right now. Crap? Maybe not anymore. And I am going to wear out another keyboard if I can’t acquire the desktop system soon. The first key to lose its label? The ‘n’. Think about it... 4349 occurrences of the word ‘nothing’. 0950. I went to the garage for a smoke and decided to charge my power tool batteries just in case. The wind is tossing power lines to and fro as if they are made of hair. I have an adapter to charge USB devices from the Makita batteries, just in case. I also have the two power banks fully charged and the phone plugged into the wall right now. Lots of options. And don’t even get me started on the mass of candles in the house and garage. Preparations are important if the grid falls away. One other little morsel... I poured a nice glass of whiskey to calm my thoughts. ‘Opposite thinking, lieutenant.’ Heh. Aw, geez... Holly has arrived within the show. That woman is fucking scary. ‘This is Holly, your new waitress. Don’t sleep with her.’ – Jayzus, Arlene is fucking awesome. And Crystal is so damned ‘backwoods’ that I can’t even find the words. Rather cute sometimes, though. Another heh. Alfre Woodard, too. I could go on all day about this show. The house is still very quiet except for the occasional wind gust outside. I looked at the radar and the heaviest precipitation is yet to come. Wow. At least I get to see the weather, unlike when the harshest conditions occur overnight. I love this stuff. Anyway, due to the quiet this morning, I suppose I’ll be sitting here for a while. The cocktail will help to mellow my head and keep me from becoming overly angry. Ever since connecting present issues to the past and that one afternoon conversation in a kitchen, I’ve been feeling more analytical rather than pissy this morning. The relationship between the ‘trait’ and the damaging dreams is very clear. I can understand why my head has gone in such a direction. There is no way I am going to find a way to connect everything, but a start is better than nothing. Those fucking dreams are still very clear after all this time, and that fact points to the idea that she is important to me. Well, not just her beauty and hair and voice (and more), either. I believe the image of what she is has taken priority over the mass of desire I’ve been trying to push away. Hadley’s breasts bounce all over the place when she walks. Sue me. Where was I? Ah... The subject of the damaging dreams is a representation of every fucking trait I have sought for many years, not just the more vocal details in the last few years. I cannot say why, however. The reveal, as it were, would damage me beyond comprehension. Uh oh, Talbot just asked Eric to disrobe and cleared others from the room. The whole of the female viewership likely stood at attention. If I were on the other side of the fence, there is no doubt I would have gone insane. Talbot is so fucking incredible as a character that I honestly believe his performance smashes some entire series’. That is not a joke. Again... Where was I? The connection between that and the other thing. There you go. She is amazing to see and hear, and my brain has latched to her personality unlike ever before, and unlike with anyone. The mere sound of her voice is enough to send my day sideways no matter what might be taking place. To say that I want her is tantamount to the greatest understatement in the history of the spoken word. Now that I have realized how much my feelings for her relate to that moment in the eighties, this content is going to head off the rails with the force of a thousand wrecking balls. She carries everything and I cannot say why. Believe me, I wish I could spill it all. Analytical, indeed. This morning has been wondrous, in a manner of speaking. The weather is continuing to pummel the house and yard. Since there is nothing I can do about it, I have chosen to enjoy the way the planet shrinks people to minuscule creatures at the mercy of planetary forces. Perhaps this storm system is contributing to my productive thinking. Kaj-Erik Eriksen would have made an excellent addition to this show. He is so fantastic that I can’t even find the words. Within the story, Eric is Norwegian (though Alexander Skarsgaard – the actor – is actually Swedish) and comes from a long, honorable line of Viking people, and I believe Eriksen could have expanded the backstory greatly. Just a thought. Do some research. The more I run through this series, the more I love it. I have to continue with this shit until something changes. Contrary to the multitude of statements I’ve made in recent years regarding the final solution, the truth is I have become too interested in finding answers to force that type of situation, and the feeling today is I am closer than ever. Jesus, the rain is heavy right now. I can see it bouncing off the roof of the cars outside. Sheets of rain, honestly. Ah, shit. Eric’s character is Swedish. Oops. Anyway, the writing may have ceased on the site, but I have never felt that publishing my thoughts and feelings was helpful. The point is to learn about myself and how I turned out this way. I’ve stated that time and circumstances are responsible for my condition, yet both can be explored in greater detail for the higher purpose of learning. Information is power, and I have unearthed just enough to believe that this process is actually helping me understand myself. If I keep going and find no answers, there is little I can do about it. The possibility of improvement and/or an end to my dire thinking processes dictates that this must continue. The time is 1100 straight up and I am just shy of sitting here on and off for five hours. That is an indication in and of itself. 0944 on the first day of the new year. This will be an old year in a few months. Heh. The sun is shining, unlike yesterday, and dinner for the holiday is in about five hours. I have to make a salad and take care of my usual stuff. Oh, and today is Sunday. Garbage work awaits. Last night? More visions. Lots of them. I also saw the lower face thingy that I have failed to adequately describe. Just look at Lacey some time and you’ll see it. The visions went far beyond the appearance of a face, however. I will refrain from going into detail because after all this time I don’t believe it is necessary. Just know that my desire for certain very elusive appearances and the frosting of life has expanded greatly in the space of the holiday season. One week. That’s right, folks. It is overwhelming. I keep seeing things that are damaging me (and damning me). I don’t recall a time in my life when I felt this much desire. Maggie was pretty fucking close, though. I can’t go into why, however. She was amazing to see. Anyway, I feel more now than a mere week ago. I don’t want this to become a problem. The visions will not stop, meaning I have to fucking deal with them. The dreams may return as well. I can’t do anything about my subconscious. Too bad. As I mentioned, the harsh weather has passed for the time being. I’ll need to take advantage of the clear sky and care for my business prior to leaving for dinner across town. I have much to do. Monday morning, January the second. I believe rain is coming again soon. I have the entire day to myself and will be alone for a few hours later. Yesterday was ok, I guess, because I was able to take care of all my business within a decent window. The evening proved fairly relaxing. This morning? Oh, much better. Aside from laundry and a load of dry cleaning, I have very little that is pressing today. Moreover, I am now in a position to acquire the desktop machine and complete this office. Very good. That means in and around everything else today I’ll be researching computers. I am looking forward to freeing this machine from the desk and operating a new system with five times the power. I’ve been relying upon this laptop for more than five years. I know there is nothing to worry about due to its lack of moving parts, but still... I need longevity in a computer and wish to use this as an auxiliary way to write and edit. The desktop configuration – meaning the layout on both displays – will be permanent. Today’s free time will help me consider my options. One might believe that I am actually doing pretty well. Regarding the comfort of being in this house and shaping the atmosphere to suit my needs, I am doing well. I shoved the work away last week because I didn’t feel like going, and that is the most power I have been able to flex in years. In the past, this second day of the new year had always been very sad and drove me to depression for two reasons. First, it represented the closing of my favorite holiday season, and second, the outlook of the days becoming longer and nothing on the horizon but work weeks combined to dim my view of everything. The road to October is quite long. The fact that I can tell everyone to take a flying leap is a big plus. I am still sideways despite the glaring positives above. The combination of the desktop and my depression will create a positive situation, as odd as that may sound. I am going to feel like shit anyway, so I may as well be comfortable and operating a powerful office. Like the man said back in the eighteen hundreds, ‘Never met a rich man with a guilty conscience.’ And his counterpart’s reply, ‘I already got the guilty conscience. Might as well have the money, too.’ I apologize for the grammar. I did not write the film. The point is that I am not going to improve anytime soon, so if the plan is to sit here and explore, I should at least have a good machine and a comfortable chair. Oh, and the programs I need in the background, too. The permanence of my feelings toward all things negative will dictate my mood and the office will follow, much like in the past. I had thought that being so distraught over my inability to relate to a certain woman of my dreams was difficult, and that period centered upon my office time, if that makes sense. Well, I actually don’t care. The current period has proven far worse just since Thanksgiving. I can’t even imagine feeling more about this shit, but the new year may bring me to an even darker place. I’ll be spending as much time in this office as possible. As I said, I’m going to be all fucked up anyway. I may as well build myself another cocoon and fully embrace the darkness. Still no rain as of 0758. I’m sure it’s coming soon. And the garbage trucks have been up and down the street for the last hour, bless them. Sometimes I wish the first dream had not occurred. Months later, I feel as if I am being haunted by the subject matter and the person involved in that scene. Haunted. The pictures flip through me like Satan’s own Rolodex and there is nothing I can do to change that fact. When the visions come along, my inner being shuts off for the most part and I have to go into a protective stance in order to keep my feelings buried. The feelings are strong (and strange). The difference between this morning and that of the first dream – the bra strap and manicured fingers – is that my fear of what I am becoming has grown out of control. I simply cannot eliminate the memories, nor do I have any control over dreams, so all I can do is sit here and try to understand. The last vision really fucked up my head. Right there... And? A billion miles away. I have never wanted anything so much. This is going to help me transition from unknowing and uncertain about my mental state to a person who is completely certifiable. Go ahead and laugh; I don’t fucking care. Maybe part of the reason I pulled all of the content is some subconscious realization that people in the world are indeed finding my words humorous. Anyway, that first vision of her changed the inside of me much more than I could have realized at the time. Throughout the ensuing months, I found more examples of reinforcement of my feelings, with the first vision remaining at the top of the list for catalyzing my deep desire. Sometimes those occurrences come along and push me into thinking that I am much further gone than originally thought. The realizations I mentioned have been numerous, and the more the calendar continues to flip over, the deeper down I fall, meaning that on a daily basis my mind seeks and finds ways of rationalizing all this shit. Eventually, situations arise and force me to see what I may look like to other people. No sooner do I begin to turn inward for protection when the first dream comes back and fills me with uncertainty over the future. The process is worsening as I sit in this chair. There is nothing I can do about it due to the fucking failed fantasy. There you go... Laugh some more. There is that paragraph again. Believe me... It relates to this latest shit (this year) more than I had thought months ago. Some of the keywords apply to this but I am not going to repeat them. Not by a damned sight. All I can do is fucking sit on the information. A year ago I stated that I never could have imagined ending up like this after so many years. Well, now there is another nail being driven into my head to make me recite the same line. Splendid. Two for the price of one year. We have begun to live through twenty-three. What’s on the schedule? Another fucking stab to my heart? The paragraph below is going to follow along because I must have the reminder in perpetuity, if for no other reason than to continue to figure out if there is only one common denominator or more. Right now I see two, but I could be wrong about one of them. The paragraph will not allow me to forget or become complacent, ever. The words must remain on this page. Jesus fucking holy hell in a bra cup is Tammy ever something to see. Oh, would I ever love to... Tongue. Nose. Over and out. I don’t think the others with which I have worked understand the importance of the time I am enjoying at this moment. Free time to think, plan, or whatever, has become so critical to my well-being that I don’t believe anyone else can understand it without actually being inside my head. I cannot stress this shit enough, honestly. I will not push to make people see this from my point of view, either. That would be a waste of time. Eh... No one is going to be near me anytime soon, so this doesn’t really matter much anyway. Fuck it. A mass of free time is one of the most important aspects of my life. I’ll have to get out of this office soon. The morning is nice and quiet, but I need to remember that moving around is important after sitting in front of the screens. 0929. The time for rain is at hand. I was able to roll the cans up the driveway just as the first drops began to fall. Now I can remain indoors other than venturing into the garage for some laundry in a little while. The routine will be quick today. And the time is later. 1131. My routine is finished with dishes drip-drying. I’ll polish everything after lunch. The next several hours will be quiet and peaceful. That is very good because I need the time and space to think without interruption. The big plus to this morning? I configured and ordered the desktop machine. It should arrive in the next two weeks. Seeing as how this office has languished for a few years, the new setup should prove rewarding beyond belief. That means the recent work in this room shall continue so I can bring back the days of old. This is the best development in years. In addition, the laptop will remain in my hands should the need for mobile editing arise. I really love this machine, too. It is not going anywhere except to follow me on a future vacation. Maybe I should pull down the icicle lights before too much rain arrives. Ugh. I really don’t feel like it, though. Having my morning work finished and the quiet of the office – along with my glass of yummy depressant – pushes my head to want to remain inside the house for a while. Wow, this one faerie on the show is fucking frightening and awesome at the same time. Yikes. Anyway, I’ll sit with the editor and cloud for a while before heading in other directions. There is plenty of time to have everything accomplished before close of business hours. The lights? I don’t know. Ok, I have the dry cleaning in process, laundry in the washer, and I pulled all of the Christmas lights off the roof. Not a drop of rain has fallen as of yet. Very good. My friends are keeping me company on the second display. I went from a sleepy clambake yesterday to virtual comfort less than a day later. I keep thinking of the desktop system, too. The arrival of that machine will represent a powerful turning point the likes of which have not been experienced by me in a few years. I am really looking forward to working toward the office returning to its former glory. And? I have another starship ornament coming in the mail soon. Basket case. There has been another slight. I have not mentioned it for some weeks because of the delicate nature of this type of situation. As usual, there will be only enough information for me to know of the details, of course. And a note regarding that last point... Two such events have transpired since Halloween, plus the issue of the damaging dreams continues to plague the site. Not a soul on earth, no matter their possible level of clairvoyance, knows what the fuck I’ve been speaking about since summer. No one. Back to the slight. I tightened the content here because I no longer believe anything positive can develop from others’ eyes upon my work. Nothing. I can read everything, though, and that is the main point of my bringing up the slight. I do not foresee a time when the material will return to the production environment. Words can be uplifting and beautiful, or they can come across as violent and belittling. For reasons of fear and good form, I must regard the site in a certain way due to the latter. Being slighted is not something I take lightly. Live with it. And? Go away. I can only deal with so much, and the limit was reached five fucking months ago. Leave me the fuck alone. This is for no one else. NO ONE. If you think you are involved because of reading the site for a long time, fucking think again, dipshits. My life is operated from the standpoint that I am alone, hence the words following suit. This is it, you Goddamned shit-brains. Did you go to school? Maybe college? Fucking FIGURE IT OUT. 'Where now? Feed me! Hold me! Save me! SAVE YOURSELF! Where now? Which way? Dear God, show me. Take your own. Struggle free! Arise! You're Ruined! Stand down! Your kin; piled thick; around you. SAVE YOURSELF!' So, now that the little posturing is out of the way, the writing can continue. This is Tuesday morning. 0632. I have coffee and vampires, the cats have been fed and my office is dark and quiet. This type of morning is very relaxing. Space to think, and all that shit. I’ll have some business in a little while. For now? I don’t care. Nothing really happened yesterday because I kept myself out of harm’s way for the most part. I remained inside the house and away from anything which could have exacerbated what I am feeling this morning. Today may be similar. I’d like to avoid people again and work inside the office for a while. I would also like to continue removing some of the holiday stuff that is battery powered. Oh, and I didn’t do much laundry yesterday because I was distracted and the rain interrupted my pace. That is on today’s list. Honestly, part of yesterday was derailed due to ordering the desktop computer. This is a big deal. I am beginning to feel as if my ‘control center’ is returning, better than in the past, and the excitement over working within the office every day pulled my attention from other chores. The comfort and importance of what I’ve accomplished inside this very room for more than nine years cannot be overstated, plus for some reason I feel as if I hold a bit of power in my hands while sitting at the table. At least, I’ve felt it in the past. Completely damned. I am in that place because of two converging situations; one close, one far. The dreams of ‘her’ – like that one involving Jamie or someone else with the ability and willingness to save me – are on the heels of dreaming of damaging situations which have been everything but helpful, and far from easy to understand. Both are in mind every day. There is nothing I can do about either of the two images in my brain. Nothing. I know that there is a woman not far from here who could be the actual culmination of everything I’ve sought and needed for years (well, aside from last year’s damage). She could also be nothing more than a person and completely different from all the shit I have conjured throughout the years. I don’t know and will never know. Such a stumbling block seems to elude others’ understanding. I can’t fucking do anything about that and this current period is not my fault, nor can I do anything about it or the way people may feel. Thrice damned. Why? Because the likelihood of finding the soul I have needed for decades is far more elusive than the chance of the damaging dreams coming true. And what is worse? The possibility of those two being the exact same person. Damned."
Damned
Mature content No. 348 Published January 3rd, 2023 7:14am pst read ( words) Past entries
"I really believe the process would fail because there have been two occasions in the last seven years in which I reached to someone who would never judge or treat me as if I was fucked in the head, and both went to shit inside me very quickly. The same type of situation would undoubtedly happen again. The only time I was comfortable with a therapist was nearly twenty years ago and that situation cannot hold a candle to this crap. If I were to travel back in time to the very moment my life went aslant, the circumstance could be repaired in a matter of hours. Do you remember ‘Keywords’? That was a landmark and needs to be expanded in the future. Those terms haunt me daily. The relationship between the terms and a possible discussion cannot be denied. The truth is that I fear the words far more than actual living people. There are many reasons for the burning desire. Some even stem from my past. I recall a situation roughly thirty-seven years ago when the idea of this type of need first became a realization. I am referring to a very specific personality trait which cannot be easily found in everyday society. There you go. A clue. The trait is very rare and could be found nearby if I was to search. The downside is that discussion of such a personality is impossible due to the implications which go along with such a word. That is bad. I wish for this type of realization and connection every fucking day and at the same time I know it is not possible. The desire continues to grow beyond my control, too. More every day. Sometimes when I begin to daydream about the kinds of situations that I can’t discuss here, my head goes a bit too far and I end up distraught and in pain. I used to think about this shit but nothing came off it. That fateful dream changed everything and left me completely confused. That single trait and a few other little details have become defining moments in the present time. Defining, meaning my mood and demeanor toward other people become quite pleasant during those moments. The flip side of feeling so much wonder and desire is that after holding up the largest fucking facade imaginable, my mood swings in the opposite direction and I become very angry. I’ve gone off the topic again, damn it. The desire is in my head pretty fucking strong right now. I can’t think straight. Friday morning. I tossed all responsibility into the trash yesterday so I can have today to myself. The time is 0638. Coffee and vampires. I’ll be caring for the early business soon and then returning here for as long as may be necessary for me to feel ok. Yesterday operated as well as could be expected during this current period, and I am hoping today will follow suit. This morning can’t be allowed to turn to shit, though. I really have to think about everything and keep my mind out of the depths. I am not referring to a pair of pants, either, but the dreams that return to me each day no matter my level of difficulty. The depth of my feelings is overwhelming. This morning will be one of those in which I have to keep my head up no matter what kind of visions work their way into my head. Today is Friday. The last time I felt myself overpowered in such a manner was three days ago. I need to keep my head up as the hours pass. The visions involved in this shit are so enticing and beautiful that to hold a balance has become nearly impossible. I almost lost my shit yesterday but turned the anger into production in the garage. A little while later I calmed and began to make dinner. Today has to be filled with solace. I forced the work to bend my way. Now I need to force the time to do the same. 0741 and all is quiet on the western front. I switched from the news back to my friends for a while. Comfort is key and they are important to me. That is a rhyme. ‘My name’s Paul, and this is ‘tween y’all’. People know not to disturb me when I decide to hole up like this. No messages, calls... Nothing. This is the perfect situation and I could not be more pleased with the quiet. I did notice that when everything is peachy, communication with certain individuals is open. As soon as I state that I am not feeling well (regardless of whether or not I am being truthful), I have found that due to not making myself available to work, communication with me is cut off completely. I don’t think that type of behavior is very pleasant. At least my devices are all silent. That is better than nothing. I flexed the garage for a little while yesterday. There is a piece of a slot machine from the late seventies that I had misplaced for some years, and after locating it again I decided to build a display around it so the sign can light when the empire is powered. Well, I didn’t get very far before the weather drove me back into the house. I quieted the garage and shut everything down in preparation for the evening and some dinner. I sure hope this day doesn’t go to shit. Sometimes the dreams and damning thoughts get the best of me and there isn’t anything I can do to save myself. I see certain things or conjure imagery that only I can know about and then everything quickly takes my mind over completely. I’ve been thinking about those situations this morning. Since very early, actually. This is the type of crap I can’t discuss with others. Me having problems is one thing. Perhaps I can learn to cope with everything. Spreading the problems to another person is both risky and unfair, unless I am speaking to a professional, that is. Unlikely. There is concern in my head along with all that has transpired between reality and sleeping, and I have to figure out a way to organize all of it or I may flip out. I don’t want this morning or the afternoon to find me all fucked up again. I need comfort. I WANT her all over me, but I NEED something else. Maybe I have that backwards. I swear to everything holy or whatever else, I have never in my life been pulled with such power. There are very few moments during the typical day when I am not picturing that vision from last week. Crazy? Yes, I am going fucking crazy. Tell me what to do. Thirty-seven-odd years ago I stood in a kitchen and realized the conversation and mannerisms were pointing to the trait I mentioned. That situation was fairly desperate, though. There was not much good in what had been happening due to some pressing matters that I can’t discuss here. Suffice to say, many years passed before I considered that type of personality again, and then many more went by the wayside soon after the second occasion. The next time I was reminded of the first realization was just after the damaging dreams began. The truth is her voice sent my mind back in time and I knew there would be serious issues to come. Those issues have arrived in force and could serve to shape the rest of my life. The damaging dreams have not left my head for more than perhaps an hour at a time. They returned while doing difficult work last month, they come to mind while watching the holiday movies, and any time when I am not busy, they float into my brain and cause difficulty due to the circumstances being so otherworldly. I honestly wish I could reveal why this situation is so fucking disconcerting and painful. Well, here I sit at 1237 with my friends still in the background. They are beautiful and hideous at the same time, but at least I KNOW them. Joe Lee is actually wearing pants for a change. That guy must have spent hours in his fucking briefs for the filming of these episodes. Heh. Anyway, the morning was awful, much like two days ago. Damn. The major plus is that I am at home with zero commitments to be elsewhere. I am in complete control of the environment in this house and whether or not I am in contact with other people. That last part is key. After sloughing off my previous engagements, my head is more relaxed than it would have been had I gone out. I have to look out for myself above all possibilities, good or bad. I may have trouble sometimes while home, but believe me the quiet and space to think far outweigh the difficulties. Even the dreams and visions are taking a break from monopolizing my brain power. I have zero plans for the rest of the day other than some preparations for dinner later. I will most likely remain at the computer for the next few hours, breaks notwithstanding. Whenever I’m working, the appreciation for this type of atmosphere peaks and I dream of being the hell out of there. My eighth starship appeared in the mail earlier and is already gracing the tree, lit and beautiful. There are still two more I’d like to have, but they will take time. Christmas is behind us, so even if they came in the mail soon, I’d still not have the tree up to display the lovely ships. I’ll have to wait a while.
1623. I lost direction again, so here I am for an hour or so before the evening sets in. I have the garage closed off this afternoon because the wind is ramping up fiercely. If the rain comes while there is a gale blowing up, well... Sideways rain, I guess. The last storm woke me up during the night. Wow. There was a vision of flowing hair just now. My brain descended once again and derailed clear thinking. Crap, anyway. The day has been a complete shit show anyway, so why not a vision on top of the pile? Damn. My mornings for the next two days will be long and relaxing. Oh, three, actually. I am looking forward to the quiet, dim atmosphere along with coffee and my deranged friends on the large display. And I mean... De-fucking-ranged. But they are my companions who will never wrong me, ridicule, embarrass, or otherwise fuck me over. They are always the same and I can count on them to be there for me. Always. The coffee time tomorrow morning is sounding better and better as I sit here. Some of the best clarity comes forth during the early morning when the world is still dark and quiet. I can don the MDRs and ensure my footprint is minimal. Almost time for the transition to evening mode. That means I light the room, decorations and tree, and then put a Christmas movie on my big television. 0617 on Saturday morning and here I am with those devices I mentioned. Comfort. The rain outside kept me awake for a bit, plus one strange dream had my head a little goofed up for a while. A woman... Naturally. I’ll get to that later. Right now I am hearing the rain outside right through the fucking MDRs. I can hear it on the roof. One of the reference points of my entire life is on the show right now. He has been a muse for some time, however I have not followed much at all. I don’t like to speak of such things during this difficult period, yet sometimes I am compelled and then driven to type. Between the rain, the dream and the figurehead on the screen, I am beside myself right now. Fortunately, this is a long morning. I shall need it. This morning represents like the fiftieth fucking dream in which I run across a woman previously unknown and then we connect somehow, and very quickly. It’s as if there is some kind of understanding which existed prior to meeting through random circumstances. Remember, I don’t believe in any of the voodoo. Franklin appears to be wearing silk pajamas designed for women in this scene. I never understood why they put him in such a silly outfit. Whatever. Anyway, I was next to my car and thinking about lunch. The car was parked in a large lot next to a shopping mall. For whatever reason, I had a spare wheel that I had planned to use as a chair for resting while I ate. Someone else was there – I believe the woman in question was next to him – and in need of some assistance with his car. I saw her and decided to help. Time flew along at that point, leaving me back at my car and the man was thanking me for help. No sooner did he reach to shake my hand when the woman praised my helpful nature and embraced me. I knew we had a connection – likely the very situation for which I’ve been searching for decades – and a wave of comfort and understanding washed over me. I kissed the top of her head and she held on tight. The other person disappeared. The dream appears to be a sign. A big one. All those months of driving up and down the coast during the early part of the pandemic, right? There I was... Scanning the roadsides and parking lots for ‘something’ to save me. The woman in the dream was there to save me, and I her. What is that? Why am I searching so much? This has nothing to do with the damage, though. Keep that in mind. I just don’t understand why there has always been a hole inside me which pressed me to create my own charge... Years of trying to find an answer. Looking around during the drives was merely a small part of a much larger issue. I still don’t know what it is. What the fuck have I been seeking all this time? The woman in the dream was like so many others in the past; little expressions or gestures which brought comfort deep inside. There is always a point in which I find that everything is fine and the relaxation sets in, after which I awaken to realize nothing has changed. I can’t even begin to count the number of dreams that all carried the same feeling. Even that one with Jamie and I walking on a farm, hand in hand. The location and scenery may have been different, but the feeling was the same. This is something I may never understand. At least the damaging dreams and subsequent overpowering desire have clues. The issue of searching has me feeling completely damned. I don’t know why, nor have I come to learn for whom. This latest dream stayed with me, as well. Most of the time I awaken wondering what I saw and retain only tiny fragments. Maybe such a fact is some sort of lesson, as if the situations I recall will only bother me even more. The damaging dreams and all accompanying shit have temporarily taken a back seat. I’m certain everything will slam my head again whenever there is a vision, much like yesterday. The inherent power within those dreams can only be paused, not stopped completely. Soon, I am sure. No one knows what the phrases ‘closet doors’ or ‘smiling faces’ have to do with anything here. They are important, though. I will say that the damaging dreams relate to both, plus the figure in the dreams carries that wondrous and critical personality trait from decades ago. I don’t believe I can be content or comfortable without the presence of such a thing. No way. The sad truth is that the very idea of that trait is even more important now than it was in the eighties. There were two situations more recently which brought my younger years to mind, and once I made the connection, I realized that the odds of my finding what I need are in the fucking stratosphere. Ugh. The dream this morning reinforced all of it. Andrea was not the same as what I’ve been describing. She was having a very tough time in her life, nothing more. Juliette was similar. Both were on the opposite end of the scale as it relates to the personality trait which has become so important to me. Our connections were different. Mutual need and such. That is all I will say. The weather outside is just as I expected... Sideways rain that is not letting up. The backyard is flooded like always. I don’t know what I can do to help the situation because there is no changing the water table. Drainage? Yes, that would keep the water from pooling in the yard, yet such a project cannot be completed during the rainy season. Any excavation will immediately fill with mud and water. Nothing can be done in the short term. We are just too close to the ocean and on flatland. I can see waves of rain and wind flying by my office window at this very moment. 0815. Throughout the last several months I’ve complained about the paragraph below the writing here in the cloud. For a time, I had other material sandwiched between the top and bottom of the first page, forcing that crap to the end so I couldn’t see it. Well, I’ve reconfigured some of the documents and it has creeped up the page again. I see it. The subject matter may relate to this morning’s dream and the suspicion that what I experienced in the late eighties has never changed. The issue may have simply been suppressed by other aspects of life such as work, living conditions and the like. I can’t remember actually thinking deeply about the trait until much later, as in just over twelve years ago when my world ran aslant. The same thing happened again nearly eight years ago. That situation went to shit, as well. The damaging dreams most likely came about due to my yearning for someone to alleviate the feelings I typed into that paragraph, and the other dreams in which I find true ‘comfort’ have been no different. Like the lines converging on either side or me, this topic is beginning to come together due to my analysis and realizations through dreaming. Very interesting. This may be a landmark entry. It could also be complete bullshit.
I guess the damaging dreams have not been shoved to the rear after all. They may be a sign of what is missing inside me. Everything seems to be related. Big fucking surprise. My work today may be restricted to the inside of the house, or possibly the garage with doors closed. Sometimes I can work out there with just the back door closed so the wind can’t carry through, although this level of wind will disrupt anyway. I’ve been out there in the past when a huge gust came along and flowed through the space from one side to the other. Today? That flow would likely include precipitation. Not good. I can still see waves of rain blowing across my horizon. The office affords me a nice view of the nearest hill. Hopefully, the Internet connection doesn’t fail today. Hmm. Thanks to technology having advanced as much as it has recently, if the main Internet line goes down, I can stream programming on my phone and mirror the screen up to the big television. Isn’t that insane? The only rub would be if we lose a cell tower. Not likely. Or worse, if we lose power. Holy crap, the water flowing down the sides of the street is an inch below the sidewalks. Oy. And when I state that the water table is high, well... There is water coming out of a crack near the bottom of my driveway. Yikes. I love this inclement weather, yet at the same time I do worry for the soil outside. The radar shows a mass of precipitation northeast of here, much worse than on the coast. That may be snow on the higher elevations. I don’t envy the problems those people have to deal with during this crazy weather. If I venture to the small market later, the drive will be very interesting. This morning is not shitty like yesterday. My thinking has been clearer, in no small part due to that dream earlier. I am beginning to see that the personality trait from the eighties has had a hand in my thinking over the years and could be the reason I keep dreaming of someone who can ‘save’ me. This is not good, of course, but I suppose understanding more of myself is an improvement no matter the source. I’ll have to continue in this vein for the duration. 0916 and my cocoon is still very quiet. The day will advance when I am ready to walk away from this crap. I’ve been sitting here thinking for three hours this morning. A few breaks out of the chair have been necessary, of course, but the compulsion to continue thinking about these connections is overwhelming right now. Crap? Maybe not anymore. And I am going to wear out another keyboard if I can’t acquire the desktop system soon. The first key to lose its label? The ‘n’. Think about it... 4349 occurrences of the word ‘nothing’. 0950. I went to the garage for a smoke and decided to charge my power tool batteries just in case. The wind is tossing power lines to and fro as if they are made of hair. I have an adapter to charge USB devices from the Makita batteries, just in case. I also have the two power banks fully charged and the phone plugged into the wall right now. Lots of options. And don’t even get me started on the mass of candles in the house and garage. Preparations are important if the grid falls away. One other little morsel... I poured a nice glass of whiskey to calm my thoughts. ‘Opposite thinking, lieutenant.’ Heh. Aw, geez... Holly has arrived within the show. That woman is fucking scary. ‘This is Holly, your new waitress. Don’t sleep with her.’ – Jayzus, Arlene is fucking awesome. And Crystal is so damned ‘backwoods’ that I can’t even find the words. Rather cute sometimes, though. Another heh. Alfre Woodard, too. I could go on all day about this show. The house is still very quiet except for the occasional wind gust outside. I looked at the radar and the heaviest precipitation is yet to come. Wow. At least I get to see the weather, unlike when the harshest conditions occur overnight. I love this stuff. Anyway, due to the quiet this morning, I suppose I’ll be sitting here for a while. The cocktail will help to mellow my head and keep me from becoming overly angry. Ever since connecting present issues to the past and that one afternoon conversation in a kitchen, I’ve been feeling more analytical rather than pissy this morning. The relationship between the ‘trait’ and the damaging dreams is very clear. I can understand why my head has gone in such a direction. There is no way I am going to find a way to connect everything, but a start is better than nothing. Those fucking dreams are still very clear after all this time, and that fact points to the idea that she is important to me. Well, not just her beauty and hair and voice (and more), either. I believe the image of what she is has taken priority over the mass of desire I’ve been trying to push away. Hadley’s breasts bounce all over the place when she walks. Sue me. Where was I? Ah... The subject of the damaging dreams is a representation of every fucking trait I have sought for many years, not just the more vocal details in the last few years. I cannot say why, however. The reveal, as it were, would damage me beyond comprehension. Uh oh, Talbot just asked Eric to disrobe and cleared others from the room. The whole of the female viewership likely stood at attention. If I were on the other side of the fence, there is no doubt I would have gone insane. Talbot is so fucking incredible as a character that I honestly believe his performance smashes some entire series’. That is not a joke. Again... Where was I? The connection between that and the other thing. There you go. She is amazing to see and hear, and my brain has latched to her personality unlike ever before, and unlike with anyone. The mere sound of her voice is enough to send my day sideways no matter what might be taking place. To say that I want her is tantamount to the greatest understatement in the history of the spoken word. Now that I have realized how much my feelings for her relate to that moment in the eighties, this content is going to head off the rails with the force of a thousand wrecking balls. She carries everything and I cannot say why. Believe me, I wish I could spill it all. Analytical, indeed. This morning has been wondrous, in a manner of speaking. The weather is continuing to pummel the house and yard. Since there is nothing I can do about it, I have chosen to enjoy the way the planet shrinks people to minuscule creatures at the mercy of planetary forces. Perhaps this storm system is contributing to my productive thinking. Kaj-Erik Eriksen would have made an excellent addition to this show. He is so fantastic that I can’t even find the words. Within the story, Eric is Norwegian (though Alexander Skarsgaard – the actor – is actually Swedish) and comes from a long, honorable line of Viking people, and I believe Eriksen could have expanded the backstory greatly. Just a thought. Do some research. The more I run through this series, the more I love it. I have to continue with this shit until something changes. Contrary to the multitude of statements I’ve made in recent years regarding the final solution, the truth is I have become too interested in finding answers to force that type of situation, and the feeling today is I am closer than ever. Jesus, the rain is heavy right now. I can see it bouncing off the roof of the cars outside. Sheets of rain, honestly. Ah, shit. Eric’s character is Swedish. Oops. Anyway, the writing may have ceased on the site, but I have never felt that publishing my thoughts and feelings was helpful. The point is to learn about myself and how I turned out this way. I’ve stated that time and circumstances are responsible for my condition, yet both can be explored in greater detail for the higher purpose of learning. Information is power, and I have unearthed just enough to believe that this process is actually helping me understand myself. If I keep going and find no answers, there is little I can do about it. The possibility of improvement and/or an end to my dire thinking processes dictates that this must continue. The time is 1100 straight up and I am just shy of sitting here on and off for five hours. That is an indication in and of itself.
0944 on the first day of the new year. This will be an old year in a few months. Heh. The sun is shining, unlike yesterday, and dinner for the holiday is in about five hours. I have to make a salad and take care of my usual stuff. Oh, and today is Sunday. Garbage work awaits. Last night? More visions. Lots of them. I also saw the lower face thingy that I have failed to adequately describe. Just look at Lacey some time and you’ll see it. The visions went far beyond the appearance of a face, however. I will refrain from going into detail because after all this time I don’t believe it is necessary. Just know that my desire for certain very elusive appearances and the frosting of life has expanded greatly in the space of the holiday season. One week. That’s right, folks. It is overwhelming. I keep seeing things that are damaging me (and damning me). I don’t recall a time in my life when I felt this much desire. Maggie was pretty fucking close, though. I can’t go into why, however. She was amazing to see. Anyway, I feel more now than a mere week ago. I don’t want this to become a problem. The visions will not stop, meaning I have to fucking deal with them. The dreams may return as well. I can’t do anything about my subconscious. Too bad. As I mentioned, the harsh weather has passed for the time being. I’ll need to take advantage of the clear sky and care for my business prior to leaving for dinner across town. I have much to do. Monday morning, January the second. I believe rain is coming again soon. I have the entire day to myself and will be alone for a few hours later. Yesterday was ok, I guess, because I was able to take care of all my business within a decent window. The evening proved fairly relaxing. This morning? Oh, much better. Aside from laundry and a load of dry cleaning, I have very little that is pressing today. Moreover, I am now in a position to acquire the desktop machine and complete this office. Very good. That means in and around everything else today I’ll be researching computers. I am looking forward to freeing this machine from the desk and operating a new system with five times the power. I’ve been relying upon this laptop for more than five years. I know there is nothing to worry about due to its lack of moving parts, but still... I need longevity in a computer and wish to use this as an auxiliary way to write and edit. The desktop configuration – meaning the layout on both displays – will be permanent. Today’s free time will help me consider my options. One might believe that I am actually doing pretty well. Regarding the comfort of being in this house and shaping the atmosphere to suit my needs, I am doing well. I shoved the work away last week because I didn’t feel like going, and that is the most power I have been able to flex in years. In the past, this second day of the new year had always been very sad and drove me to depression for two reasons. First, it represented the closing of my favorite holiday season, and second, the outlook of the days becoming longer and nothing on the horizon but work weeks combined to dim my view of everything. The road to October is quite long. The fact that I can tell everyone to take a flying leap is a big plus. I am still sideways despite the glaring positives above. The combination of the desktop and my depression will create a positive situation, as odd as that may sound. I am going to feel like shit anyway, so I may as well be comfortable and operating a powerful office. Like the man said back in the eighteen hundreds, ‘Never met a rich man with a guilty conscience.’ And his counterpart’s reply, ‘I already got the guilty conscience. Might as well have the money, too.’ I apologize for the grammar. I did not write the film. The point is that I am not going to improve anytime soon, so if the plan is to sit here and explore, I should at least have a good machine and a comfortable chair. Oh, and the programs I need in the background, too. The permanence of my feelings toward all things negative will dictate my mood and the office will follow, much like in the past. I had thought that being so distraught over my inability to relate to a certain woman of my dreams was difficult, and that period centered upon my office time, if that makes sense. Well, I actually don’t care. The current period has proven far worse just since Thanksgiving. I can’t even imagine feeling more about this shit, but the new year may bring me to an even darker place. I’ll be spending as much time in this office as possible. As I said, I’m going to be all fucked up anyway. I may as well build myself another cocoon and fully embrace the darkness. Still no rain as of 0758. I’m sure it’s coming soon. And the garbage trucks have been up and down the street for the last hour, bless them. Sometimes I wish the first dream had not occurred. Months later, I feel as if I am being haunted by the subject matter and the person involved in that scene. Haunted. The pictures flip through me like Satan’s own Rolodex and there is nothing I can do to change that fact. When the visions come along, my inner being shuts off for the most part and I have to go into a protective stance in order to keep my feelings buried. The feelings are strong (and strange). The difference between this morning and that of the first dream – the bra strap and manicured fingers – is that my fear of what I am becoming has grown out of control. I simply cannot eliminate the memories, nor do I have any control over dreams, so all I can do is sit here and try to understand. The last vision really fucked up my head. Right there... And? A billion miles away. I have never wanted anything so much. This is going to help me transition from unknowing and uncertain about my mental state to a person who is completely certifiable. Go ahead and laugh; I don’t fucking care. Maybe part of the reason I pulled all of the content is some subconscious realization that people in the world are indeed finding my words humorous. Anyway, that first vision of her changed the inside of me much more than I could have realized at the time. Throughout the ensuing months, I found more examples of reinforcement of my feelings, with the first vision remaining at the top of the list for catalyzing my deep desire. Sometimes those occurrences come along and push me into thinking that I am much further gone than originally thought. The realizations I mentioned have been numerous, and the more the calendar continues to flip over, the deeper down I fall, meaning that on a daily basis my mind seeks and finds ways of rationalizing all this shit. Eventually, situations arise and force me to see what I may look like to other people. No sooner do I begin to turn inward for protection when the first dream comes back and fills me with uncertainty over the future. The process is worsening as I sit in this chair. There is nothing I can do about it due to the fucking failed fantasy. There you go... Laugh some more. There is that paragraph again. Believe me... It relates to this latest shit (this year) more than I had thought months ago. Some of the keywords apply to this but I am not going to repeat them. Not by a damned sight. All I can do is fucking sit on the information. A year ago I stated that I never could have imagined ending up like this after so many years. Well, now there is another nail being driven into my head to make me recite the same line. Splendid. Two for the price of one year. We have begun to live through twenty-three. What’s on the schedule? Another fucking stab to my heart? The paragraph below is going to follow along because I must have the reminder in perpetuity, if for no other reason than to continue to figure out if there is only one common denominator or more. Right now I see two, but I could be wrong about one of them. The paragraph will not allow me to forget or become complacent, ever. The words must remain on this page. Jesus fucking holy hell in a bra cup is Tammy ever something to see. Oh, would I ever love to... Tongue. Nose. Over and out. I don’t think the others with which I have worked understand the importance of the time I am enjoying at this moment. Free time to think, plan, or whatever, has become so critical to my well-being that I don’t believe anyone else can understand it without actually being inside my head. I cannot stress this shit enough, honestly. I will not push to make people see this from my point of view, either. That would be a waste of time. Eh... No one is going to be near me anytime soon, so this doesn’t really matter much anyway. Fuck it. A mass of free time is one of the most important aspects of my life. I’ll have to get out of this office soon. The morning is nice and quiet, but I need to remember that moving around is important after sitting in front of the screens.
0929. The time for rain is at hand. I was able to roll the cans up the driveway just as the first drops began to fall. Now I can remain indoors other than venturing into the garage for some laundry in a little while. The routine will be quick today. And the time is later. 1131. My routine is finished with dishes drip-drying. I’ll polish everything after lunch. The next several hours will be quiet and peaceful. That is very good because I need the time and space to think without interruption. The big plus to this morning? I configured and ordered the desktop machine. It should arrive in the next two weeks. Seeing as how this office has languished for a few years, the new setup should prove rewarding beyond belief. That means the recent work in this room shall continue so I can bring back the days of old. This is the best development in years. In addition, the laptop will remain in my hands should the need for mobile editing arise. I really love this machine, too. It is not going anywhere except to follow me on a future vacation. Maybe I should pull down the icicle lights before too much rain arrives. Ugh. I really don’t feel like it, though. Having my morning work finished and the quiet of the office – along with my glass of yummy depressant – pushes my head to want to remain inside the house for a while. Wow, this one faerie on the show is fucking frightening and awesome at the same time. Yikes. Anyway, I’ll sit with the editor and cloud for a while before heading in other directions. There is plenty of time to have everything accomplished before close of business hours. The lights? I don’t know. Ok, I have the dry cleaning in process, laundry in the washer, and I pulled all of the Christmas lights off the roof. Not a drop of rain has fallen as of yet. Very good. My friends are keeping me company on the second display. I went from a sleepy clambake yesterday to virtual comfort less than a day later. I keep thinking of the desktop system, too. The arrival of that machine will represent a powerful turning point the likes of which have not been experienced by me in a few years. I am really looking forward to working toward the office returning to its former glory. And? I have another starship ornament coming in the mail soon. Basket case. There has been another slight. I have not mentioned it for some weeks because of the delicate nature of this type of situation. As usual, there will be only enough information for me to know of the details, of course. And a note regarding that last point... Two such events have transpired since Halloween, plus the issue of the damaging dreams continues to plague the site. Not a soul on earth, no matter their possible level of clairvoyance, knows what the fuck I’ve been speaking about since summer. No one. Back to the slight. I tightened the content here because I no longer believe anything positive can develop from others’ eyes upon my work. Nothing. I can read everything, though, and that is the main point of my bringing up the slight. I do not foresee a time when the material will return to the production environment. Words can be uplifting and beautiful, or they can come across as violent and belittling. For reasons of fear and good form, I must regard the site in a certain way due to the latter. Being slighted is not something I take lightly. Live with it. And? Go away. I can only deal with so much, and the limit was reached five fucking months ago. Leave me the fuck alone. This is for no one else. NO ONE. If you think you are involved because of reading the site for a long time, fucking think again, dipshits. My life is operated from the standpoint that I am alone, hence the words following suit. This is it, you Goddamned shit-brains. Did you go to school? Maybe college? Fucking FIGURE IT OUT.
'Where now? Feed me! Hold me! Save me! SAVE YOURSELF! Where now? Which way? Dear God, show me. Take your own. Struggle free! Arise! You're Ruined! Stand down! Your kin; piled thick; around you. SAVE YOURSELF!'
So, now that the little posturing is out of the way, the writing can continue. This is Tuesday morning. 0632. I have coffee and vampires, the cats have been fed and my office is dark and quiet. This type of morning is very relaxing. Space to think, and all that shit. I’ll have some business in a little while. For now? I don’t care. Nothing really happened yesterday because I kept myself out of harm’s way for the most part. I remained inside the house and away from anything which could have exacerbated what I am feeling this morning. Today may be similar. I’d like to avoid people again and work inside the office for a while. I would also like to continue removing some of the holiday stuff that is battery powered. Oh, and I didn’t do much laundry yesterday because I was distracted and the rain interrupted my pace. That is on today’s list. Honestly, part of yesterday was derailed due to ordering the desktop computer. This is a big deal. I am beginning to feel as if my ‘control center’ is returning, better than in the past, and the excitement over working within the office every day pulled my attention from other chores. The comfort and importance of what I’ve accomplished inside this very room for more than nine years cannot be overstated, plus for some reason I feel as if I hold a bit of power in my hands while sitting at the table. At least, I’ve felt it in the past. Completely damned. I am in that place because of two converging situations; one close, one far. The dreams of ‘her’ – like that one involving Jamie or someone else with the ability and willingness to save me – are on the heels of dreaming of damaging situations which have been everything but helpful, and far from easy to understand. Both are in mind every day. There is nothing I can do about either of the two images in my brain. Nothing. I know that there is a woman not far from here who could be the actual culmination of everything I’ve sought and needed for years (well, aside from last year’s damage). She could also be nothing more than a person and completely different from all the shit I have conjured throughout the years. I don’t know and will never know. Such a stumbling block seems to elude others’ understanding. I can’t fucking do anything about that and this current period is not my fault, nor can I do anything about it or the way people may feel. Thrice damned. Why? Because the likelihood of finding the soul I have needed for decades is far more elusive than the chance of the damaging dreams coming true. And what is worse? The possibility of those two being the exact same person. Damned."
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