Sinful Desperation Mature content No. 356 Published February 5th, 2023 11:22am pst read ( words) Past entries "1429. I finished everything and drove to the small market for a few items, most notably cream for my morning coffee. My neon sign arrived and is beautiful. I have yet to figure out a place to properly display such a great representation of one of my favorite programs. Lunch is also out of the way and I have things in order for dinner tonight and tomorrow. Now I have the time and space to relax at the control center with my show on the right-hand monitor. This machine is everything I had hoped, and more. There goes the super-thin neighbor with dog and toddler in tow. Damn, she needs to eat something. Heh. Cute, though. I have been slowly running out of gas these past few months. Not anything specific, but more of a general loss of interest in doing anything. I have plans to make dinner tonight and tomorrow and could begin the more involved preparation this afternoon, yet for some reason I just don’t care and will probably follow the easier recipe, pushing the other one until tomorrow. None of this is important, of course, at least not considering the underlying reason for my hesitation in tackling anything that requires even a little effort. There are many other chores around the house at which I gaze on and off all day, every day. Some require only minutes to accomplish. I can’t seem to get myself to move in any productive direction even though I have all the time in the world to sit here or do whatever else. I don’t know what happened to me. Perhaps focusing for so long upon the difficulties inside and trying repeatedly to find answers have broken me down. Whatever the issue here, something must change. Ah... The main reason for my present condition was just walking by the house a few minutes ago. Yep. The same jogger I’ve seen several times, yet today she was wearing shorts that looked like nothing more than the top half of yoga pants. Within seconds, my brain became overly desperate to see her lines, and I am not simply referring to being in the correct position to spy them from afar. When I say ‘see’, that is to convey my deep-seated desire to be right in front of them so as to understand; close enough to where nothing is hidden. I have only had occasion to see beauty in the most intimate way a few times in this life. The most recent was not appreciated enough at the time, hence my increasing desperation to be right... THERE. The girl walking by was but one in a hundred. The need never leaves me. Not for a fucking second. I’ll stop right there. 1714. Cocktail hour is about to arrive, thank goodness. I could use a bit of a numbing agent right now. The garage is closed for the day, too. I polished the kitchen for the second time today so there is room to prepare a simple dinner. This is a different entry, but I am still at the bottom of the well. 0651 on Thursday morning. I have been thinking that yesterday may have been tough, but feeling as if I can’t find a direction is not entirely a bad thing. At least, not all the time. The truth about my weekdays is that this part of the morning and the time after the early business is wonderful. I need the quiet time more than ever, especially if the afternoons are going to continue to give me trouble. Yesterday turned out fine, honestly. I was able to make dinner preparations in good time and then cook. The meal was good and I have a few more things ready to go for tonight. Preparations for both morning and evening have become one of my favorite activities for some reason. I’ve always excelled at being well-organized. It’s important to me. I don’t like to be caught off-guard these days. The dinner preparations will move ahead later this morning. 0826. All those people I see out the window are heading off to work and I get to stay right here at home. Wonderful. I remember many years ago when my dad and I were having breakfast on weekday mornings before I went to school and he drove to work. He always had the news in the background. I remember that I rarely wanted to go to school because sometimes being there was difficult and I did not know which days were going to be positive and which were going to be negative. I wanted to stay home or go to work with my dad because any other option seemed bad. The thought of being able to finish watching the news and maybe having a bit of breakfast felt impossible back then. Now I do it almost every day. I can see people going to work most mornings. I don’t have to go anywhere. I need to keep all this in mind whenever a given day seems impossible to endure. I have to remember the upsides of this situation. The pants and the sweatshirt. A smile. My head exploded. Black pants; beige top. The contrast was amazing, and this time there was nothing blocking the view of her lines. I caught a glimpse. My head exploded a second time. Now I can’t stop imagining us together like the dream. She saved me. She kissed me. She knew everything and still cared. I could see all that I needed right there in her sweet eyes, and then the lines melted away. She helped me. I still want to pull off her top, though. Can’t fucking help it anymore. I need to see what I need to see. The clues added up in my head, but before I could paint a mental picture, my senses were floored by confirmation right in front of me. Now I wish each day for the opportunity to pull her top up and see the skin. And I know how this sounds, assholes, believe me. It’s bad, but keep in mind I am just a person with no power beyond the keyboard. I am desperate. With each passing second, I become worse... More desperate, and weaker of mind. I will see those pants again and gush about her beauty sometime after. I will be more desperate than I am right now. And there is nothing anyone can do about it. The more I see; the more I want; the less I can do. A topic change is now necessary before I become angry. The home theatre setup will not be modified to send audio to two pairs of headphones. That was a good idea at first, but the more I thought about being isolated, the less appealing the system appeared. Yesterday I discovered a method for adding an external equalizer, yet such a plan would only support two-channel audio. I’d rather have the cake and eat it, too, so I have to think about the situation for a while. The computer on this table gave me the idea that we do not necessarily need the Roku or any other streaming device in order to watch media on the television(s). All of it is available within a browser window, meaning the most effective and flexible method for watching is a computer. The machine supports multiple displays, is capable of reproducing and number of audio channels, and is almost infinitely upgradeable in the future. My current computer has two-channel audio because I don’t need anything more advanced in this office, but in the living room the possibilities would be almost endless. Moreover, the computer can output multichannel audio via optical digital or analog connections, and that allows for the use of any additional processing equipment. I know precisely what is needed for the proper number of channels and equalization, too. The interesting part is that the AVR sitting out there right now would need to handle only the living room audio and nothing else. Such a system would not be utilizing all the capabilities of the receiver, though. That would be rather a waste of a very flexible piece of equipment, yet I already own it. The power and reproduction are the most important aspects of the AVR, so bypassing much of what is connected right now would not be that much of a sidestep. The bottom line is the availability of connectivity and equalization. All I need are options, whereas at present I have very few. And yes, my hearing is the reason for all this shit. The entire subject is much more comfortable than that of the previous paragraph, as well. I shall continue studying and learn as much as possible. 1250. I went through both freezers and organized a few proteins so we know what is in there. I can’t just arbitrarily pull food from the chest freezer without eventually going through everything because the end result is nothing more than a mess. I also finished the routine and left the dishes to drip dry for a while. When I move back to the kitchen for dinner preparations, I’ll put everything away and give the room a polish. Going through the freezers is not much fun, but it’s important sometimes. I need to maintain an inventory. I grabbed the mail prior to working inside the freezers, and that resulted in my becoming angry once again. Something unexpected on the cover of a magazine, one which arrives a few times per year due to a particular membership. I knew the whole thing was a bad idea from the beginning, but until this afternoon I never considered the publication to be anything more than something to toss in the recycle bin. Well, I’ve been stabbed in the heart today. If the next half hour or so goes the way I expect, I’ll be fucking stabbed again for a different reason. I really need something to change, yet nothing can. Splendid. I shall continue to see what I should not be seeing, believe me. The well of sins entry is now in the past. It is also the definition of my present. Sometimes I need to push that woman’s face through the back of her pretty head. Black yoga pants and a beige sweatshirt never looked so amazing. They were not worn by the woman who was the subject of the previous statement, however. Just saying. Today is not the best, yet I have accomplished a few things so that the evening will feel deserved and comfortable. I’ll probably push off visiting the smoke shop until tomorrow. Curious, I used to head over there in the afternoon so I could pop into the bar and see some people for a little while. Now? None of that anymore. No one understands me and I don’t understand them. I no longer need to deflate over there, and as sad as that may sound, the truth is I need to be alone much of the time. Believe me, there is a part of me that will always miss that place and what it used to represent. Much of that feeling was due to work, though. All I did was try to focus upon what we did each day and suppress the desire. By the time we reached the bar after the work day was concluded, my head needed some sort of distraction. The conversation and music helped as much as they could during those years. In the present, the only thought in my head when I visit the smoke shop is that the goddess market is across the parking lot just in case I need something only they carry. Quite a different situation, this shit. I wish I hadn’t seen that magazine cover. My head is ping-ponging back and forth between relaxing and making plans for my dinner work in the kitchen, and heading into the garage to express to no one just how upset I’ve become today. Nothing helps; nothing changes. No one will be listening. No one will care about how I feel. No one will be affected by me lashing out toward the world. They will hear music and move along as if there is nothing to see. I am not feeling sad for myself. I am stating facts. I expect nothing from anyone, near or far. Least of all... Ah, another reminder popped into my head due to an Internet search for something with which I’ve been fascinated for decades. A place I will never visit. This entry is going to go downhill very soon. Thankfully, the time is 1408 and within the next hour I need to move into the kitchen for some early dinner preparations. I have to butterfly and marinate chicken, as well as mix and simmer the sauce. The meal is not difficult by any means, but if I can get things together prior to the evening, cooking will be a breeze. Moreover, I need a fucking distraction from two issues running parallel inside my head today. Um... Three. Don't forget the black pants and that fucking sweatshirt. God damn do I want her. 1648. I have the chicken marinating and the sauce part way finished. All I have to do later is grill the chicken and touch up the sauce as it simmers. Not bad. I also showered. Big deal. The show is still running to my right, although I am becoming irritated with the seventh season writing. Switching to something else may happen very soon. I have not tackled the cabinet lights as of yet because I’m not sure of how I want them wired, plus I may need to visit the hardware store for some tie mounts prior to installation. This may represent the end of my housework for today. Oh, boy. The thoughts in my head this afternoon are raising questions. I’ve asked them before but no one is within earshot (probably a good thing). There are no answers, anyway. Nothing. I think about her – don’t even get me started on all the others, past and present – on and off all day, every day. I imagine all sorts of situations. I dream of being in places I cannot possibly visit in reality. My head descends into her clothing all the fucking time. And then the questions flow like the Stanislaus in spring. And then I again realize there is nothing I can do about any of it. I will say one thing, however, and that is the fact of this office being a savior of a type I did not imagine prior to last fall. I definitely need my comforts and devices more than ever, and sitting at this control center is each of them. Thank the maker I was able to make this happen. 0801 on a rainy Friday morning. I’ve been at the morning business for a while. Now I am here for the duration. The weather is going to severely truncate the number of passers by, so I’ll probably be a bit more comfortable in this office today. I have the last cup of coffee and the eighth (final) season of the show to the right. God damn am I ever annoyed by this woman. Sometimes nothing more than a facial expression. She is second only to the cunt of the universe, yet both are merely fictional characters and I have complete control over the media that plays in this house. Whatever. What was I talking about prior to bitching? Ah... The weather and the coffee. Anyway, I plan to take this morning quite slow and then move into the kitchen to install the new lighting under our cabinets. I’m going to run a test and check the brightness as compared to the old lights, and if everything looks good I will slap them up there for good. I’m hoping that the new LEDs are enough to effectively illuminate the entire counter. They should be fine. The only other plan for today is a trip to the smoke shop, I suppose shortly before lunch. I am sick and tired of failing, honestly. Today must be more positive. It simply must. The kitchen lighting had better prove pretty rewarding. Whenever I feel as I did a little while ago, my brain begins to lose any grasp of understanding about the world. That is too big a question for right now (maybe anytime, really) and yet it pops into my head all the time; a lack of understanding. Perhaps I’ve been asking too much of the world, or possibly too much of certain people. I don’t need to worry about becoming angry today, though. My head is already too broken to handle lashing out in any direction, and in any amount. I don’t have that shit inside me right now. A mellow, thoughtful mood is much less exhausting, as well. Today will be mellow. I saw this and that. Later, I saw more, and then I sought some situations, eventually making the most of one that I will never forget. This is going to sound convoluted. The clock continues to roll no matter the difficulties piled upon individual shoulders. I see 1116. The routine is inished and I left the dishes to drip dry once again. Believe it or not, doing so can save water if you’re conscious of the process. Eh... Never mind. The point is I finished everything and removed that faulty switch from the cabinet lighting, instead opting for a line voltage switch from the garage. I also ran a test with the strip LEDs that I’ve been using to light various displays in the garage. One three-foot section under the cabinet proved to be insufficient for working at the counter. The older units are far brighter. I removed the aforementioned switch, cleaned up the wiring, and then removed the shields from each section. The components no longer cause the horizontal glare that had been unnerving me. They only illuminate downward and the countertop is a touch brighter with zero flicker. As always, this is a temporary situation as I have plans to add a receptacle on the right-hand wall and power it via a standard wall switch that will mount next to the existing light switch that controls the overhead fixture. The process will require that I head up to the attic and run some Romex through the top plate. No big deal. I’ve done it before. The ceiling fan in the living room was tough, but I fucking did it. This is what I call ‘cold weather work’. Heh. I just switched off the dragons mere seconds before the big battle. I guess the writing got the best of me. Now I get to see Kerry and her sad eyes for twenty-two episodes, give or take. God damn do I want her to hold me right now, and keep in mind I am sitting here yearning for her arms around me nearly two decades after this series premiered. I am a basket case, through and through. 'You piss-drinking sons of circus whores!' Not my first choice of wording, but fucking hell is he ever awesome. Jesus Harold Christ on a fucking rubber crutch. The clock indicates 1321. I went to the smoke shop and the goddess market, the latter having been aptly named by yours truly some years ago. That moniker held up today, let me tell you. I have rarely laid eyes upon such a heavenly form. The woman standing in front of the meat counter rivaled the appearance of Andrea, and that is so fucking rare in my experience that I could barely hold it together. And then? As I tossed my croissants into the handbasket and turned to glance again before heading for the cashier, she did something I have seen on only a handful (or less) of occasions... She tugged at the waist of her black pants and effectively exaggerated the center seam and those defining lines. All of them at the same time, really. In the space of less than a second, I went from thinking about dinner tonight to dreaming of more than I care to say. She was the most striking woman I have seen in a decade, and believe me... I have seen much in this life. Ugh. This afternoon’s schedule may change a bit. I am uncertain as of yet, however, because I don’t know how I may feel in an hour or more. I go on and on about pants and tire myself to the point of giving up hope on everything. The pants are not even the fucking issue here. I saw those black pants today and lost my fucking mind, yet the truth is I need to see the reality of the situation up close. The pants seem to hide nothing, but there is so much more. I will try to avoid describing the mass of desire that developed inside me during those few seconds. Jesus fuck was she amazing to see. I am becoming angry again. What can be done? Nothing. I will say one thing about the episode I turned off a while ago. The music is unbelievably good. Fitting; stirring; emotional. The dramatic nature of the composition rivals that of the end of the sixth season, honestly. Maybe it’s better. This could easily turn into one of those days when I freeze. You know... The type when I end up standing behind the sofa staring at nothingness. I have to make some sauce for dinner in a little while, during which I’ll take care of my lunch dishes and polish everything. The lights under the cabinets are finished, meaning I don’t have to futz with the stupid switch anymore. That will make working at the counter much nicer. I also intend to clean the floor on one side of the kitchen where the food and water reside. The cats really mess it up sometimes. The work out there means I’ll transition from the office and run the other show in the background. It brings me comfort. I am looking forward to all that stuff because without it I would probably lose my shit and do something stupid, rather like blasting music in the garage because I am still upset about the woman in the market. I am a basket case. She was very tall, and in case you didn’t already realize, the importance of height is related to the lines being longer. Simple, right? Hers were angelic. I wish I had not noticed her in the parking lot prior to walking my sorry ass into a place fraught with problems. God damn, she was precious. And wasn’t I talking about housework and cooking? I need to see her lines again but there is nothing I can do about it. Tormund is spilling his wine all over the place. This is the scene that held the infamous coffee cup which was later removed from the shot. So funny. I keep thinking I need to edit some images for inclusion within this entry, yet the writing is what really matters. Or... Does it? I don’t know what this means anymore. The same cycle continues to spin me in circles. I see something, feel tremendous turmoil and loss, and then become angry for a while. Nothing changes; the situation simply fades for a while. And then? Another, like today. I need to see so badly that I feel that I am losing my mind completely. I can’t fucking do anything, so I end up angry. The desperation leads nowhere but I can’t stop it. People’s actions toward me combined with societal bullshit have molded me so far out of balance that I’ve become nothing more than a hermit with a computer and a head full of images. A few days pass and I am forced to the beginning of the cycle once again. Music, writing, and then nothing. Nothing. Adding images to this entry will make me see the subject of them, and then I’ll want to gaze at her lines for fuck’s sake. The images only add a visual dimension to my words, and not a good one at that. I just don’t know what else to do anymore. At least there was no sin involved aside from the thoughts in my head. She had the most stirring form I have seen in a very long time and the problems inherent in such a vision are beginning to compound. I believe my best path right now is to take advantage of feeling such disdain by working on the house from a defensive standpoint. Early last year I mentioned working toward such a purpose due to the conflict in the east. Well, it is not any better now than it was when I was commenting upon everything. The fact is I left that topic untouched because there is no solution for me personally. Another fact is there is something threatening the world from the far east and I must take larger concerns into account right now. Working from a defensive posture helps me to think, believe it or not. All that education and experience from the military does not fade with time. It sits to the rear until needed. Well, now I believe that time has come, and at the risk of sounding ridiculous considering the nature of this topic along with that of the vision in the store, both cause the same amount of anger. Yes, I know that is odd, but the truth of the situation in my head is such that I cannot decide which is worse, a war around the world or living through each day so desperate and depressed. At least the conflicts cause me to be productive. A defensive standpoint shall be the plan. I’ll take care of the usual stuff in and around the rest. None of this shit is good for my health. That much is certain. I would not be in this negative of a frame of mind had I not seen that woman in the store. I spoke with someone a few years ago about the turmoil that grips me immediately upon seeing something wondrous, and even after belaboring the point for quite some time, there was no solution. I still don’t understand it, but one thing I do know for sure is that a level of desire is always involved. 1548. I don’t need to start the sauce for an hour or more. The show is still playing to my right, too. I switched a while ago but then came back to this crap for some reason. Maybe it was the music or those few key moments. I don’t know. Saturday morning, 0701. I have my coffee and the same show. It’s almost finished. This will be a very long morning because I need to keep the house nice and quiet. Ah... This is one of those key moments. It’s done. Yesterday was a prime example of things in my head getting out of hand. I allowed it to happen, but at the same time the principal motivation wasn’t my doing. I already know this. The imagery got to me, and that was long before I decided to go to the store. The feeling was such that I felt there was no way out other than to push myself straight through to the other side. Even when that seems to be the only way, I still do not like it. I am weakened and don’t feel good about the way I must live these days. The devices and my wonderful office still help, however. I am pleased that there are ways to relax and set everything aside in the midst of something so difficult. I’m surprised that nothing fell apart after I returned from the store. Those little things, like dinner and straightening, really helped dilute the images of her ass inside my brain. I took care of what was needed and then fell into the rest of the evening. The trouble from earlier in the day faded and I did not feel as much turmoil over it once dinner was underway. The woman at the store stayed just behind my eyes, though. I dreamed of her while watching television as an actor walked away from the camera’s point of view, all thin legs and rather lanky. This type of thing can never change, unfortunately. My head will go completely sideways again. I can’t predict, but it will happen regardless of how much I may think my way through everything. There is nothing I can do about the processes at work inside. They just keep expanding and worsening as time goes by, especially when it comes to the sin. Today should prove pretty mellow. I have the usual routine and some laundry, and then I’ll try to continue my efforts in this room in order to begin the defensive posture. The same type of work needs to be performed in the garage, as well, but the weather must follow suit or I’ll be very uncomfortable. I don’t know how much time I can spend out there today. Waiting for the early part of next week might be better because we are scheduled to dry out for days. I need a bit of warmth. As for the office, well... This is a tough one because of storage. That’s why I keep trying to thin the flock, as it were. I don’t need to own so much crap. Maybe I can work in such a direction later today. I also have to try staying away from blasting music and drinking too much, too early, or everything will turn to shit like a few weeks ago. I may be angry, but I don't wish to act like an idiot. I must maintain my composure and project myself like a real, grown-up type of person regardless of the shit storm inside. Anger can be useful at times. It can also ruin many a situation. I keep seeing her pull up those pants. It reminds me of being in a gas station halfway down the state when my partner stood at the pump and performed the same maneuver. I went into that already (don’t recall when, though). The center seam is what hit me the hardest, I believe, because without a point of reference, nothing else can appear aligned or symmetrical. Her pants were centered beautifully and the tug forced the appearance of the lines below to sharpen just enough for me to realize that her form matched that of Andrea. Believe me, I started at Andrea more than anyone in memory because I had the time and the need was stronger than at any other point in my life to that period. Well, the woman in the store pulled me from myself and ruined the way everyone else in the market appeared. She ruined everything by being a fucking genetic fluke. I have to stop trying to describe her because nothing will ever be enough. No words can paint the picture I need. Rest assured, the occurrence was one of the rarest on this earth. I miss her now. I’ve not felt anything so strong in a very long time. I said it somewhere up the page and I’ll say it again... I wish I had never caught sight of her. Now she’s inside me locked up and perpetual. I have no recourse whatsoever. The dreams. Every day when I sit at this machine I am reminded of their power and the fact that all of the information is hidden inside me, likely never to be released. No one would be listening, anyway, so I must continue to shove it back and sit on the difficulties and desperation. The main issue is the fact that I still want her pretty fucking badly. The first and third dreams are in my head every fucking day and I still see them very clearly. Once I viewed confirmation of my suspicions, well, that pretty much sunk any chances of my feelings fading away over time. They have only grown in the most difficult and sinful directions. Sinful. I would give anything to really see her; everything that is hidden from view. Everything I already know is inside her clothing. The first dream began this fiery cycle of thinking and altered me for all time. Believe me when I say that once I thought about that first dream, the world appeared different. It still does. My unconscious mind has pushed me to consider people very differently than prior to last year. The dreams, that visit to the shoe store down the peninsula, and then the festival just on the heels of me falling down over this shit. There have been others, but the truth is I don’t know how closely they align with the first few incidents. The girl in the electronics store some days ago was not aligned. She was wonderful and filled my head with tons of desire in a matter of seconds, yet still unrelated to the rest. The dreams were key. This is a daily thought process, one I cannot stop. Reminders in the media abound. Reminders in daily life are fewer. There is only one thread between the woman in the store yesterday and the subjects of this paragraph, and that is the word ‘desperation’. Sin was not related to the woman who blew my head wide open, only desire. The most desperate desire I have felt in a very long time. This has to fade or it will ruin anything I attempt. 0814. I don’t know what the remainder of the day will have in store for me. My plans do not always carry forward because I am often reminded of something difficult that changes the mood. I don’t want that happening today, either. None of it. I’d like to cruise through my early routine and then finish some housework. I’d also like to come out the other side in better shape than yesterday. I will probably have to push myself at some point, too. There is plenty I can accomplish. I just have to do it. Regarding the equalization idea for the home theatre, I have yet to come to a conclusion. Another computer to facilitate streaming media would be nice, although that will come at a cost (like this machine, just over a thousand dollars). That appears to be the most flexible idea at this point. Anything else, such as more audio equipment to do the job, will be purpose-built and integrated within the system, and that means more cabling and fewer options. Right now I just don’t know. I will say that I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to streamline all that wiring, both in the living room and that which goes through the wall into the garage, not to mention simplifying the amount of equipment to be able to more easily maintain that corner of the room. Perhaps once I finalize the method of improving the audio, I can perform all of it at the same time, rather like a fresh start. In addition, I believe I found a way to simplify the audio path to the garage system. I may be able to connect the existing cable going from the living room to the receiver on my bench directly to the television. I have to run a few experiments and see if the audio is passing through the system or ending its run at the AVR. Right now I can’t remember the last time I worked with the menus on the television. I need to refresh my memory. I was reminded of the three-quarter cut bikini some days ago and think about it from time to time. I believe I am the only person who liked that type of cut during the nineties. Heh. People I knew seemed to prefer the French-cut type. Eh... There is too much accentuating the hips with that style. Not good. The waist need not be ignored, meaning the straps should be lower. Just a thought. Maybe I’ll try to find an image. The reminder I saw was the form of an amazing woman as she moved about wearing the style I mentioned. I just hadn’t seen one in some years. None of this matters in the grand scheme, though. Bigger fish, and all that shit. Yesterday when I moved out of the office to work in the kitchen, I put the third show on two televisions and found comfort in the preparation of food. The woman in the market faded for a while and I focused upon following a recipe and straightening my mess at the same time. Working in the kitchen is really nice since I installed the television going on three years ago. I really like having my media running in the background. There is a comfort inherent in those programs which dates back to before the Midwest, and one I probably can’t explain. Wow, the ending of this series really sucks out loud. I may not make it through the final episode because the story was so badly written that I have all but lost respect for the creators. Ugh. Anyway, sometimes sitting here leaves me full of turmoil because I’m constantly thinking about my situation and condition, and then eventually when I move away from the office the comfort seems natural, as if one can help to offset the other (somewhat). I really need to count on that comfort, honestly. Without a respite from all this shit, I’d be gone already. I’ll be in the kitchen later this morning, and then again in the afternoon to prepare dinner. I am looking forward to my friends and family on the televisions, plus the distraction of the storylines (including my typical silly comments along the way). Fuck, do I ever want that girl. I want to see inside her clothing. I need it, really. Her lines are awaiting worship. Maybe I should build an altar. Not funny. I will actually do it, and that is why I am not laughing. I am on my last cup of coffee at 0854. The show is nearly finished, thank Christ. I don’t plan to sit here for much longer, either. Moving around every now and then is important while working at a terminal. I’ll probably run some laundry soon, and then perhaps take care of part of my routine. As I said before, I need to keep the house nice and quiet for a while, so anything in the garage or office should be first. I also need to think about the audio in the living room. Anything to get that woman’s maneuver out of my consciousness for a while. Jesus holy fucking hell did she look amazing. I wanted all of her immediately. The work today and tomorrow is going to help push her away. More importantly, the condition which drives me to feel desire so quickly when something like that occurs must be addressed here in and around whatever else I may be doing. I’ll think about everything today. So, the time is now 0946 and I am still sitting here. The lousy eighth season ended, so I switched programs for the time being. I have to keep the volume fairly low, however, because I am no longer wearing the MDRs. I can only keep those on my ears for so long before they become uncomfortable. I’ll have to move away from this soon, too. I keep seeing that woman tugging at her pants and providing me with the split-second view of a lifetime. The more I think about her amazing form, the less I feel like being productive here or anywhere else. I need to do housework at some point. God damn, the shape of her thighs and rear all stretched to the limit was one of the most frustrating visions I’ve ever seen. I caught a quick glimpse of her with a child in tow while parking my car and knew she was tall and slender. Later, though, everything went to hell. I am still reeling and feeling pain inside over knowing those types of forms exist. There is nothing I can do but look and run away, later realizing that the likelihood of being where I need is nil. Once I get out of the office and put my show on the two televisions, the memory will hopefully fade for a while. And God damn fuck me in a toga, there is Kerry. Whatever. As usual, I’ll dream of her big, beautiful eyes looking into mine as she holds me. It’s a feeling that is difficult to describe, yet one which takes over my entire being all too often. Only certain faces (characters, too) generate what has become utterly the most powerful vision imaginable. Nope, not the woman at the store yesterday. The eyes are key. I never saw her face, thank Christ. I wanted to, yet my instincts took over and I headed for the checkout before anything worse could occur. I still can't believe the way her form appeared when she pulled up her pants. I am fucking cursed. 1053. I took care of half the routine and did some preliminary straightening in the kitchen so it will be easier to clean. I also poured myself a big glass of whiskey due to seeing something best left out of this content. Yep. She relates to the subject of the damaging dreams and appears every now and then on the sidewalk with a dog in tow. No, not the other one I’ve mentioned that seems to be training the doggie, but someone else. I can’t go into detail with this shit. Just know that it hurts, hence the numbing agent. The shift that was initiated last year by the first dream continues to plague my mind. Some of it could be considered perfectly natural regarding human nature, too. I do not think in such terms. My head still cannot wrap itself around the idea, to be honest, and that is after months of analysis. Maybe I should cook something for brunch. Pause. That was not a pause. It was a stop. Today is Sunday and the time is 0652. I am at the control center with coffee and the Romans on the right-hand display. Kerry is over there every now and then with her sad eyes. I need her to hold me, even now during one of my favorite times of the day and the same within the week. I just froze and captured a face from the show. Coral. Maybe I’ll put it here later. And I learned she is a filmmaker and photographer. Very interesting. Anyway, the image may end up here or it may not. I am unsure of so many things these days that I don’t even know which way to turn my head. Yesterday went nowhere because the weather was harsh. Lots of wind. I can’t do much when half the day is spent keeping an eye on the property in case of damage. The usual work was finished, though. I suppose it’s fine that the day did not add up to much. Sometimes the rest and quiet is rewarding. Today, though, I must be more productive. I have laundry and dry cleaning along with my typical housework, and then the Sunday garbage business. For me, the enjoyment of pro football is over until September because all teams that I like have been eliminated. I have no reason to watch the big game next Sunday, nor am I interested in the all-star contests that will be on later today. The spread of time between now and the first week of football in September is a necessary dry spell, however. The special feeling of holidays and football games must be maintained, and that means too much is not a good thing. My Sundays from now until fall will be mellow and the focus will be a combination of housework and improvements. When the season comes around again, I’ll appreciate it aplenty. For today, I will need to push pretty hard to keep my head out of the din and depression. I am doing my best to avoid daydreaming about her and everything I’ve seen, yet right behind each thought or word I type is turmoil and torment over this situation. I’ve been driven to this without a choice. Once the coffee is gone and I move out of the office to work on other interests, I need to ensure that my head remains upward for the most part. No matter what may come across the television screen or walk by my garage, the focus must remain on my work today. I will try to ‘nickel and dime’ everything. Every now and then I receive an email from the job/work/whatever website and service because I’ve had an account there since being dumped by the agency. I have very few connections through that site and even fewer reasons to visit, but I did just now. I’m considering updating everything to see what kind of part-time work may be available for someone my age. I doubt there will be anything, though, because for every position related to my experience there are dozens (or more) of qualified people younger than me. Oh, and if you don’t believe age is a factor, you’re either stupid or lying to yourself. Anyway, I ran across the profile of someone I don’t know, and naturally the image of her is enormous and she just happens to be fucking stunning beyond belief. And successful, according to the site. Seeing people doing well makes me feel like a hole in the world, although I am here at home each day by choice. I probably couldn’t work in an office or laboratory setting these days, anyway. I’d see some beauty and end up all fucked up over her and then leave. Seeing the profile of that girl this morning was indicative of my typical modus operandi. Believe it. I’ve also thought of going to school, too. The college up the hill is from cheap to free depending upon the discipline. I could learn something. And? The same thing could happen there. One sighting and I would mentally fall down and leave. I’ve done it before. Maybe I shouldn’t have visited that fucking site this morning. I don’t know if I can do anything outside of this house anymore. My entire existence has been truncated so much that sometimes I don’t realize the depth of change until thinking about joining the workforce and being around people in a bright, open environment. The idea feels more alien now than when I ceased my full-time commitments. I looked around a few years ago and located a handful of possibilities, but the truth is I was not being honest with myself. I already know that some comfortable position that is but part time is just not going to appear before me. That is very unrealistic, to be sure. I am deluded and diluted. This life inside the house with my devices might be the only one I can live. You’ve already seen what beauty sans resolution can do to me. Just imagine being in a professional environment and failing at some errant, required task because of a pair of pants. Not fucking funny. Well, it’s a little funny, I suppose. Worse, I am so weak after all this time that I’d probably cross some line by trying to speak with a beautiful woman out of desperation. In the workplace? Such behavior is not fucking good by any stretch of the word. I’ve done it before, but nothing ever came of the situation because the woman in question was very understanding and we had been growing fairly close by that point. Too bad I’m not in contact with her anymore. There is coral again. Jesus, she was such a dish when this program was shot. And her character just told her mom to fuck off. Not in so many words, though. I had a slight connection with the beautiful woman at work many years ago. We spoke on deeper levels than the typical daily chit chat between coworkers. She was very open-minded and understanding. Sometimes I wish I still had that connection. Believe it or not, the whole thing began when she told me of her intention to augment her chest. She had been unhappy with her cup size and took a chance by revealing the plan to me. After that day, we became closer. Of course, such a situation as we had back then was rare and unique. I could not (or would not) expect the same in the future because I am radically different these days, not to mention in a worse state of mental health. I honestly believe my condition would force words that could ruin almost anything. Beauty has so much power over me that sometimes I can’t believe it. Last night I was told that Niobe’s sister is pretty. I am diametrically opposed to such an observance. The woman is average, to me. But then... Who am I? What have I become? No answers. This is no kind of life. Every day I sit here at the table or take breaks in the garage while doing housework, and much of my time during breaks or typing is spent looking out the window and waiting for something noteworthy or stirring to come along. I find myself glancing out there a few times per minute in hopes of seeing the jogger or someone else. Not a single person walking past this house is going to make any damned difference in my life. None. Nothing can come of it. I keep looking out there every day just in case because I am a case... A basket case, that is. I am a crazy person so far out of balance that all my strength is required in holding up this shit and appearing as a regular person during those rare occasions when I am around other people. I just this morning learned of the reason that the music in my iTunes application does not match that which is in the media folder. Everything is messed up because I had not synchronized the phone to this machine. The process is only part way finished right now because I am basically starting from scratch with a new computer. I’d like to have everything in order this morning and am fervently working toward such an end. I had to get away from the depressive paragraph above, too. Just for a minute, anyway. Everything comes back eventually. No choice. And here it is. Looking at the image that currently resides on the index reminds me of dreams. One in particular, actually, and that would be the third dream. I would imagine that her areolae are similar to the outlines displayed in the image. Crazy person. I need to see them... I need to know everything. I need so much that sitting here is often very painful inside. Ugh. Just to see... As I said, this is no kind of life. Not for anyone, really. Think about it for a while and disagree with me. I'll prove it. 1113. I have most of the routine finished, laundry in the washer, and some preliminary garbage work out of the way. The house is all mine for the next several hours. The Romans are on the right-hand display for a while, too. The phone debacle is resolved. I had to get everything together this morning and update the software. I still have some minor questions, yet they are not pressing at all. The main concern is all of my media being backed up. The weather has been mild so far and I can only hope it remains dry as I work around the house. I’ve been reminiscing about my past gallivanting in search of the right type of comfort to ease my mind. None of it exists anymore, hence the preponderance of recollections this morning. For the third time, this is no kind of life. All comforts and devices aside, I am pretty fucking miserable, still desperate for understanding, and void of hope. If not for this new computer and office setup, I’d be further down. Thank the maker for my control center and the solace it can provide at times. I can only wish for things. Wishes in the cold wind." Copyright ©2002-2024 comainterrupted.com All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Created by Brandywine Engineering using Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 and .NET Framework 4.8 Questions? Comments? Anything? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the psychos in charge
Sinful Desperation Mature content No. 356 Published February 5th, 2023 11:22am pst read ( words) Past entries "1429. I finished everything and drove to the small market for a few items, most notably cream for my morning coffee. My neon sign arrived and is beautiful. I have yet to figure out a place to properly display such a great representation of one of my favorite programs. Lunch is also out of the way and I have things in order for dinner tonight and tomorrow. Now I have the time and space to relax at the control center with my show on the right-hand monitor. This machine is everything I had hoped, and more. There goes the super-thin neighbor with dog and toddler in tow. Damn, she needs to eat something. Heh. Cute, though. I have been slowly running out of gas these past few months. Not anything specific, but more of a general loss of interest in doing anything. I have plans to make dinner tonight and tomorrow and could begin the more involved preparation this afternoon, yet for some reason I just don’t care and will probably follow the easier recipe, pushing the other one until tomorrow. None of this is important, of course, at least not considering the underlying reason for my hesitation in tackling anything that requires even a little effort. There are many other chores around the house at which I gaze on and off all day, every day. Some require only minutes to accomplish. I can’t seem to get myself to move in any productive direction even though I have all the time in the world to sit here or do whatever else. I don’t know what happened to me. Perhaps focusing for so long upon the difficulties inside and trying repeatedly to find answers have broken me down. Whatever the issue here, something must change. Ah... The main reason for my present condition was just walking by the house a few minutes ago. Yep. The same jogger I’ve seen several times, yet today she was wearing shorts that looked like nothing more than the top half of yoga pants. Within seconds, my brain became overly desperate to see her lines, and I am not simply referring to being in the correct position to spy them from afar. When I say ‘see’, that is to convey my deep-seated desire to be right in front of them so as to understand; close enough to where nothing is hidden. I have only had occasion to see beauty in the most intimate way a few times in this life. The most recent was not appreciated enough at the time, hence my increasing desperation to be right... THERE. The girl walking by was but one in a hundred. The need never leaves me. Not for a fucking second. I’ll stop right there. 1714. Cocktail hour is about to arrive, thank goodness. I could use a bit of a numbing agent right now. The garage is closed for the day, too. I polished the kitchen for the second time today so there is room to prepare a simple dinner. This is a different entry, but I am still at the bottom of the well. 0651 on Thursday morning. I have been thinking that yesterday may have been tough, but feeling as if I can’t find a direction is not entirely a bad thing. At least, not all the time. The truth about my weekdays is that this part of the morning and the time after the early business is wonderful. I need the quiet time more than ever, especially if the afternoons are going to continue to give me trouble. Yesterday turned out fine, honestly. I was able to make dinner preparations in good time and then cook. The meal was good and I have a few more things ready to go for tonight. Preparations for both morning and evening have become one of my favorite activities for some reason. I’ve always excelled at being well-organized. It’s important to me. I don’t like to be caught off-guard these days. The dinner preparations will move ahead later this morning. 0826. All those people I see out the window are heading off to work and I get to stay right here at home. Wonderful. I remember many years ago when my dad and I were having breakfast on weekday mornings before I went to school and he drove to work. He always had the news in the background. I remember that I rarely wanted to go to school because sometimes being there was difficult and I did not know which days were going to be positive and which were going to be negative. I wanted to stay home or go to work with my dad because any other option seemed bad. The thought of being able to finish watching the news and maybe having a bit of breakfast felt impossible back then. Now I do it almost every day. I can see people going to work most mornings. I don’t have to go anywhere. I need to keep all this in mind whenever a given day seems impossible to endure. I have to remember the upsides of this situation. The pants and the sweatshirt. A smile. My head exploded. Black pants; beige top. The contrast was amazing, and this time there was nothing blocking the view of her lines. I caught a glimpse. My head exploded a second time. Now I can’t stop imagining us together like the dream. She saved me. She kissed me. She knew everything and still cared. I could see all that I needed right there in her sweet eyes, and then the lines melted away. She helped me. I still want to pull off her top, though. Can’t fucking help it anymore. I need to see what I need to see. The clues added up in my head, but before I could paint a mental picture, my senses were floored by confirmation right in front of me. Now I wish each day for the opportunity to pull her top up and see the skin. And I know how this sounds, assholes, believe me. It’s bad, but keep in mind I am just a person with no power beyond the keyboard. I am desperate. With each passing second, I become worse... More desperate, and weaker of mind. I will see those pants again and gush about her beauty sometime after. I will be more desperate than I am right now. And there is nothing anyone can do about it. The more I see; the more I want; the less I can do. A topic change is now necessary before I become angry. The home theatre setup will not be modified to send audio to two pairs of headphones. That was a good idea at first, but the more I thought about being isolated, the less appealing the system appeared. Yesterday I discovered a method for adding an external equalizer, yet such a plan would only support two-channel audio. I’d rather have the cake and eat it, too, so I have to think about the situation for a while. The computer on this table gave me the idea that we do not necessarily need the Roku or any other streaming device in order to watch media on the television(s). All of it is available within a browser window, meaning the most effective and flexible method for watching is a computer. The machine supports multiple displays, is capable of reproducing and number of audio channels, and is almost infinitely upgradeable in the future. My current computer has two-channel audio because I don’t need anything more advanced in this office, but in the living room the possibilities would be almost endless. Moreover, the computer can output multichannel audio via optical digital or analog connections, and that allows for the use of any additional processing equipment. I know precisely what is needed for the proper number of channels and equalization, too. The interesting part is that the AVR sitting out there right now would need to handle only the living room audio and nothing else. Such a system would not be utilizing all the capabilities of the receiver, though. That would be rather a waste of a very flexible piece of equipment, yet I already own it. The power and reproduction are the most important aspects of the AVR, so bypassing much of what is connected right now would not be that much of a sidestep. The bottom line is the availability of connectivity and equalization. All I need are options, whereas at present I have very few. And yes, my hearing is the reason for all this shit. The entire subject is much more comfortable than that of the previous paragraph, as well. I shall continue studying and learn as much as possible. 1250. I went through both freezers and organized a few proteins so we know what is in there. I can’t just arbitrarily pull food from the chest freezer without eventually going through everything because the end result is nothing more than a mess. I also finished the routine and left the dishes to drip dry for a while. When I move back to the kitchen for dinner preparations, I’ll put everything away and give the room a polish. Going through the freezers is not much fun, but it’s important sometimes. I need to maintain an inventory. I grabbed the mail prior to working inside the freezers, and that resulted in my becoming angry once again. Something unexpected on the cover of a magazine, one which arrives a few times per year due to a particular membership. I knew the whole thing was a bad idea from the beginning, but until this afternoon I never considered the publication to be anything more than something to toss in the recycle bin. Well, I’ve been stabbed in the heart today. If the next half hour or so goes the way I expect, I’ll be fucking stabbed again for a different reason. I really need something to change, yet nothing can. Splendid. I shall continue to see what I should not be seeing, believe me. The well of sins entry is now in the past. It is also the definition of my present. Sometimes I need to push that woman’s face through the back of her pretty head. Black yoga pants and a beige sweatshirt never looked so amazing. They were not worn by the woman who was the subject of the previous statement, however. Just saying. Today is not the best, yet I have accomplished a few things so that the evening will feel deserved and comfortable. I’ll probably push off visiting the smoke shop until tomorrow. Curious, I used to head over there in the afternoon so I could pop into the bar and see some people for a little while. Now? None of that anymore. No one understands me and I don’t understand them. I no longer need to deflate over there, and as sad as that may sound, the truth is I need to be alone much of the time. Believe me, there is a part of me that will always miss that place and what it used to represent. Much of that feeling was due to work, though. All I did was try to focus upon what we did each day and suppress the desire. By the time we reached the bar after the work day was concluded, my head needed some sort of distraction. The conversation and music helped as much as they could during those years. In the present, the only thought in my head when I visit the smoke shop is that the goddess market is across the parking lot just in case I need something only they carry. Quite a different situation, this shit. I wish I hadn’t seen that magazine cover. My head is ping-ponging back and forth between relaxing and making plans for my dinner work in the kitchen, and heading into the garage to express to no one just how upset I’ve become today. Nothing helps; nothing changes. No one will be listening. No one will care about how I feel. No one will be affected by me lashing out toward the world. They will hear music and move along as if there is nothing to see. I am not feeling sad for myself. I am stating facts. I expect nothing from anyone, near or far. Least of all... Ah, another reminder popped into my head due to an Internet search for something with which I’ve been fascinated for decades. A place I will never visit. This entry is going to go downhill very soon. Thankfully, the time is 1408 and within the next hour I need to move into the kitchen for some early dinner preparations. I have to butterfly and marinate chicken, as well as mix and simmer the sauce. The meal is not difficult by any means, but if I can get things together prior to the evening, cooking will be a breeze. Moreover, I need a fucking distraction from two issues running parallel inside my head today. Um... Three. Don't forget the black pants and that fucking sweatshirt. God damn do I want her. 1648. I have the chicken marinating and the sauce part way finished. All I have to do later is grill the chicken and touch up the sauce as it simmers. Not bad. I also showered. Big deal. The show is still running to my right, although I am becoming irritated with the seventh season writing. Switching to something else may happen very soon. I have not tackled the cabinet lights as of yet because I’m not sure of how I want them wired, plus I may need to visit the hardware store for some tie mounts prior to installation. This may represent the end of my housework for today. Oh, boy. The thoughts in my head this afternoon are raising questions. I’ve asked them before but no one is within earshot (probably a good thing). There are no answers, anyway. Nothing. I think about her – don’t even get me started on all the others, past and present – on and off all day, every day. I imagine all sorts of situations. I dream of being in places I cannot possibly visit in reality. My head descends into her clothing all the fucking time. And then the questions flow like the Stanislaus in spring. And then I again realize there is nothing I can do about any of it. I will say one thing, however, and that is the fact of this office being a savior of a type I did not imagine prior to last fall. I definitely need my comforts and devices more than ever, and sitting at this control center is each of them. Thank the maker I was able to make this happen. 0801 on a rainy Friday morning. I’ve been at the morning business for a while. Now I am here for the duration. The weather is going to severely truncate the number of passers by, so I’ll probably be a bit more comfortable in this office today. I have the last cup of coffee and the eighth (final) season of the show to the right. God damn am I ever annoyed by this woman. Sometimes nothing more than a facial expression. She is second only to the cunt of the universe, yet both are merely fictional characters and I have complete control over the media that plays in this house. Whatever. What was I talking about prior to bitching? Ah... The weather and the coffee. Anyway, I plan to take this morning quite slow and then move into the kitchen to install the new lighting under our cabinets. I’m going to run a test and check the brightness as compared to the old lights, and if everything looks good I will slap them up there for good. I’m hoping that the new LEDs are enough to effectively illuminate the entire counter. They should be fine. The only other plan for today is a trip to the smoke shop, I suppose shortly before lunch. I am sick and tired of failing, honestly. Today must be more positive. It simply must. The kitchen lighting had better prove pretty rewarding. Whenever I feel as I did a little while ago, my brain begins to lose any grasp of understanding about the world. That is too big a question for right now (maybe anytime, really) and yet it pops into my head all the time; a lack of understanding. Perhaps I’ve been asking too much of the world, or possibly too much of certain people. I don’t need to worry about becoming angry today, though. My head is already too broken to handle lashing out in any direction, and in any amount. I don’t have that shit inside me right now. A mellow, thoughtful mood is much less exhausting, as well. Today will be mellow. I saw this and that. Later, I saw more, and then I sought some situations, eventually making the most of one that I will never forget. This is going to sound convoluted. The clock continues to roll no matter the difficulties piled upon individual shoulders. I see 1116. The routine is inished and I left the dishes to drip dry once again. Believe it or not, doing so can save water if you’re conscious of the process. Eh... Never mind. The point is I finished everything and removed that faulty switch from the cabinet lighting, instead opting for a line voltage switch from the garage. I also ran a test with the strip LEDs that I’ve been using to light various displays in the garage. One three-foot section under the cabinet proved to be insufficient for working at the counter. The older units are far brighter. I removed the aforementioned switch, cleaned up the wiring, and then removed the shields from each section. The components no longer cause the horizontal glare that had been unnerving me. They only illuminate downward and the countertop is a touch brighter with zero flicker. As always, this is a temporary situation as I have plans to add a receptacle on the right-hand wall and power it via a standard wall switch that will mount next to the existing light switch that controls the overhead fixture. The process will require that I head up to the attic and run some Romex through the top plate. No big deal. I’ve done it before. The ceiling fan in the living room was tough, but I fucking did it. This is what I call ‘cold weather work’. Heh. I just switched off the dragons mere seconds before the big battle. I guess the writing got the best of me. Now I get to see Kerry and her sad eyes for twenty-two episodes, give or take. God damn do I want her to hold me right now, and keep in mind I am sitting here yearning for her arms around me nearly two decades after this series premiered. I am a basket case, through and through. 'You piss-drinking sons of circus whores!' Not my first choice of wording, but fucking hell is he ever awesome. Jesus Harold Christ on a fucking rubber crutch. The clock indicates 1321. I went to the smoke shop and the goddess market, the latter having been aptly named by yours truly some years ago. That moniker held up today, let me tell you. I have rarely laid eyes upon such a heavenly form. The woman standing in front of the meat counter rivaled the appearance of Andrea, and that is so fucking rare in my experience that I could barely hold it together. And then? As I tossed my croissants into the handbasket and turned to glance again before heading for the cashier, she did something I have seen on only a handful (or less) of occasions... She tugged at the waist of her black pants and effectively exaggerated the center seam and those defining lines. All of them at the same time, really. In the space of less than a second, I went from thinking about dinner tonight to dreaming of more than I care to say. She was the most striking woman I have seen in a decade, and believe me... I have seen much in this life. Ugh. This afternoon’s schedule may change a bit. I am uncertain as of yet, however, because I don’t know how I may feel in an hour or more. I go on and on about pants and tire myself to the point of giving up hope on everything. The pants are not even the fucking issue here. I saw those black pants today and lost my fucking mind, yet the truth is I need to see the reality of the situation up close. The pants seem to hide nothing, but there is so much more. I will try to avoid describing the mass of desire that developed inside me during those few seconds. Jesus fuck was she amazing to see. I am becoming angry again. What can be done? Nothing. I will say one thing about the episode I turned off a while ago. The music is unbelievably good. Fitting; stirring; emotional. The dramatic nature of the composition rivals that of the end of the sixth season, honestly. Maybe it’s better. This could easily turn into one of those days when I freeze. You know... The type when I end up standing behind the sofa staring at nothingness. I have to make some sauce for dinner in a little while, during which I’ll take care of my lunch dishes and polish everything. The lights under the cabinets are finished, meaning I don’t have to futz with the stupid switch anymore. That will make working at the counter much nicer. I also intend to clean the floor on one side of the kitchen where the food and water reside. The cats really mess it up sometimes. The work out there means I’ll transition from the office and run the other show in the background. It brings me comfort. I am looking forward to all that stuff because without it I would probably lose my shit and do something stupid, rather like blasting music in the garage because I am still upset about the woman in the market. I am a basket case. She was very tall, and in case you didn’t already realize, the importance of height is related to the lines being longer. Simple, right? Hers were angelic. I wish I had not noticed her in the parking lot prior to walking my sorry ass into a place fraught with problems. God damn, she was precious. And wasn’t I talking about housework and cooking? I need to see her lines again but there is nothing I can do about it. Tormund is spilling his wine all over the place. This is the scene that held the infamous coffee cup which was later removed from the shot. So funny. I keep thinking I need to edit some images for inclusion within this entry, yet the writing is what really matters. Or... Does it? I don’t know what this means anymore. The same cycle continues to spin me in circles. I see something, feel tremendous turmoil and loss, and then become angry for a while. Nothing changes; the situation simply fades for a while. And then? Another, like today. I need to see so badly that I feel that I am losing my mind completely. I can’t fucking do anything, so I end up angry. The desperation leads nowhere but I can’t stop it. People’s actions toward me combined with societal bullshit have molded me so far out of balance that I’ve become nothing more than a hermit with a computer and a head full of images. A few days pass and I am forced to the beginning of the cycle once again. Music, writing, and then nothing. Nothing. Adding images to this entry will make me see the subject of them, and then I’ll want to gaze at her lines for fuck’s sake. The images only add a visual dimension to my words, and not a good one at that. I just don’t know what else to do anymore. At least there was no sin involved aside from the thoughts in my head. She had the most stirring form I have seen in a very long time and the problems inherent in such a vision are beginning to compound. I believe my best path right now is to take advantage of feeling such disdain by working on the house from a defensive standpoint. Early last year I mentioned working toward such a purpose due to the conflict in the east. Well, it is not any better now than it was when I was commenting upon everything. The fact is I left that topic untouched because there is no solution for me personally. Another fact is there is something threatening the world from the far east and I must take larger concerns into account right now. Working from a defensive posture helps me to think, believe it or not. All that education and experience from the military does not fade with time. It sits to the rear until needed. Well, now I believe that time has come, and at the risk of sounding ridiculous considering the nature of this topic along with that of the vision in the store, both cause the same amount of anger. Yes, I know that is odd, but the truth of the situation in my head is such that I cannot decide which is worse, a war around the world or living through each day so desperate and depressed. At least the conflicts cause me to be productive. A defensive standpoint shall be the plan. I’ll take care of the usual stuff in and around the rest. None of this shit is good for my health. That much is certain. I would not be in this negative of a frame of mind had I not seen that woman in the store. I spoke with someone a few years ago about the turmoil that grips me immediately upon seeing something wondrous, and even after belaboring the point for quite some time, there was no solution. I still don’t understand it, but one thing I do know for sure is that a level of desire is always involved. 1548. I don’t need to start the sauce for an hour or more. The show is still playing to my right, too. I switched a while ago but then came back to this crap for some reason. Maybe it was the music or those few key moments. I don’t know. Saturday morning, 0701. I have my coffee and the same show. It’s almost finished. This will be a very long morning because I need to keep the house nice and quiet. Ah... This is one of those key moments. It’s done. Yesterday was a prime example of things in my head getting out of hand. I allowed it to happen, but at the same time the principal motivation wasn’t my doing. I already know this. The imagery got to me, and that was long before I decided to go to the store. The feeling was such that I felt there was no way out other than to push myself straight through to the other side. Even when that seems to be the only way, I still do not like it. I am weakened and don’t feel good about the way I must live these days. The devices and my wonderful office still help, however. I am pleased that there are ways to relax and set everything aside in the midst of something so difficult. I’m surprised that nothing fell apart after I returned from the store. Those little things, like dinner and straightening, really helped dilute the images of her ass inside my brain. I took care of what was needed and then fell into the rest of the evening. The trouble from earlier in the day faded and I did not feel as much turmoil over it once dinner was underway. The woman at the store stayed just behind my eyes, though. I dreamed of her while watching television as an actor walked away from the camera’s point of view, all thin legs and rather lanky. This type of thing can never change, unfortunately. My head will go completely sideways again. I can’t predict, but it will happen regardless of how much I may think my way through everything. There is nothing I can do about the processes at work inside. They just keep expanding and worsening as time goes by, especially when it comes to the sin. Today should prove pretty mellow. I have the usual routine and some laundry, and then I’ll try to continue my efforts in this room in order to begin the defensive posture. The same type of work needs to be performed in the garage, as well, but the weather must follow suit or I’ll be very uncomfortable. I don’t know how much time I can spend out there today. Waiting for the early part of next week might be better because we are scheduled to dry out for days. I need a bit of warmth. As for the office, well... This is a tough one because of storage. That’s why I keep trying to thin the flock, as it were. I don’t need to own so much crap. Maybe I can work in such a direction later today. I also have to try staying away from blasting music and drinking too much, too early, or everything will turn to shit like a few weeks ago. I may be angry, but I don't wish to act like an idiot. I must maintain my composure and project myself like a real, grown-up type of person regardless of the shit storm inside. Anger can be useful at times. It can also ruin many a situation. I keep seeing her pull up those pants. It reminds me of being in a gas station halfway down the state when my partner stood at the pump and performed the same maneuver. I went into that already (don’t recall when, though). The center seam is what hit me the hardest, I believe, because without a point of reference, nothing else can appear aligned or symmetrical. Her pants were centered beautifully and the tug forced the appearance of the lines below to sharpen just enough for me to realize that her form matched that of Andrea. Believe me, I started at Andrea more than anyone in memory because I had the time and the need was stronger than at any other point in my life to that period. Well, the woman in the store pulled me from myself and ruined the way everyone else in the market appeared. She ruined everything by being a fucking genetic fluke. I have to stop trying to describe her because nothing will ever be enough. No words can paint the picture I need. Rest assured, the occurrence was one of the rarest on this earth. I miss her now. I’ve not felt anything so strong in a very long time. I said it somewhere up the page and I’ll say it again... I wish I had never caught sight of her. Now she’s inside me locked up and perpetual. I have no recourse whatsoever. The dreams. Every day when I sit at this machine I am reminded of their power and the fact that all of the information is hidden inside me, likely never to be released. No one would be listening, anyway, so I must continue to shove it back and sit on the difficulties and desperation. The main issue is the fact that I still want her pretty fucking badly. The first and third dreams are in my head every fucking day and I still see them very clearly. Once I viewed confirmation of my suspicions, well, that pretty much sunk any chances of my feelings fading away over time. They have only grown in the most difficult and sinful directions. Sinful. I would give anything to really see her; everything that is hidden from view. Everything I already know is inside her clothing. The first dream began this fiery cycle of thinking and altered me for all time. Believe me when I say that once I thought about that first dream, the world appeared different. It still does. My unconscious mind has pushed me to consider people very differently than prior to last year. The dreams, that visit to the shoe store down the peninsula, and then the festival just on the heels of me falling down over this shit. There have been others, but the truth is I don’t know how closely they align with the first few incidents. The girl in the electronics store some days ago was not aligned. She was wonderful and filled my head with tons of desire in a matter of seconds, yet still unrelated to the rest. The dreams were key. This is a daily thought process, one I cannot stop. Reminders in the media abound. Reminders in daily life are fewer. There is only one thread between the woman in the store yesterday and the subjects of this paragraph, and that is the word ‘desperation’. Sin was not related to the woman who blew my head wide open, only desire. The most desperate desire I have felt in a very long time. This has to fade or it will ruin anything I attempt. 0814. I don’t know what the remainder of the day will have in store for me. My plans do not always carry forward because I am often reminded of something difficult that changes the mood. I don’t want that happening today, either. None of it. I’d like to cruise through my early routine and then finish some housework. I’d also like to come out the other side in better shape than yesterday. I will probably have to push myself at some point, too. There is plenty I can accomplish. I just have to do it. Regarding the equalization idea for the home theatre, I have yet to come to a conclusion. Another computer to facilitate streaming media would be nice, although that will come at a cost (like this machine, just over a thousand dollars). That appears to be the most flexible idea at this point. Anything else, such as more audio equipment to do the job, will be purpose-built and integrated within the system, and that means more cabling and fewer options. Right now I just don’t know. I will say that I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to streamline all that wiring, both in the living room and that which goes through the wall into the garage, not to mention simplifying the amount of equipment to be able to more easily maintain that corner of the room. Perhaps once I finalize the method of improving the audio, I can perform all of it at the same time, rather like a fresh start. In addition, I believe I found a way to simplify the audio path to the garage system. I may be able to connect the existing cable going from the living room to the receiver on my bench directly to the television. I have to run a few experiments and see if the audio is passing through the system or ending its run at the AVR. Right now I can’t remember the last time I worked with the menus on the television. I need to refresh my memory. I was reminded of the three-quarter cut bikini some days ago and think about it from time to time. I believe I am the only person who liked that type of cut during the nineties. Heh. People I knew seemed to prefer the French-cut type. Eh... There is too much accentuating the hips with that style. Not good. The waist need not be ignored, meaning the straps should be lower. Just a thought. Maybe I’ll try to find an image. The reminder I saw was the form of an amazing woman as she moved about wearing the style I mentioned. I just hadn’t seen one in some years. None of this matters in the grand scheme, though. Bigger fish, and all that shit. Yesterday when I moved out of the office to work in the kitchen, I put the third show on two televisions and found comfort in the preparation of food. The woman in the market faded for a while and I focused upon following a recipe and straightening my mess at the same time. Working in the kitchen is really nice since I installed the television going on three years ago. I really like having my media running in the background. There is a comfort inherent in those programs which dates back to before the Midwest, and one I probably can’t explain. Wow, the ending of this series really sucks out loud. I may not make it through the final episode because the story was so badly written that I have all but lost respect for the creators. Ugh. Anyway, sometimes sitting here leaves me full of turmoil because I’m constantly thinking about my situation and condition, and then eventually when I move away from the office the comfort seems natural, as if one can help to offset the other (somewhat). I really need to count on that comfort, honestly. Without a respite from all this shit, I’d be gone already. I’ll be in the kitchen later this morning, and then again in the afternoon to prepare dinner. I am looking forward to my friends and family on the televisions, plus the distraction of the storylines (including my typical silly comments along the way). Fuck, do I ever want that girl. I want to see inside her clothing. I need it, really. Her lines are awaiting worship. Maybe I should build an altar. Not funny. I will actually do it, and that is why I am not laughing. I am on my last cup of coffee at 0854. The show is nearly finished, thank Christ. I don’t plan to sit here for much longer, either. Moving around every now and then is important while working at a terminal. I’ll probably run some laundry soon, and then perhaps take care of part of my routine. As I said before, I need to keep the house nice and quiet for a while, so anything in the garage or office should be first. I also need to think about the audio in the living room. Anything to get that woman’s maneuver out of my consciousness for a while. Jesus holy fucking hell did she look amazing. I wanted all of her immediately. The work today and tomorrow is going to help push her away. More importantly, the condition which drives me to feel desire so quickly when something like that occurs must be addressed here in and around whatever else I may be doing. I’ll think about everything today. So, the time is now 0946 and I am still sitting here. The lousy eighth season ended, so I switched programs for the time being. I have to keep the volume fairly low, however, because I am no longer wearing the MDRs. I can only keep those on my ears for so long before they become uncomfortable. I’ll have to move away from this soon, too. I keep seeing that woman tugging at her pants and providing me with the split-second view of a lifetime. The more I think about her amazing form, the less I feel like being productive here or anywhere else. I need to do housework at some point. God damn, the shape of her thighs and rear all stretched to the limit was one of the most frustrating visions I’ve ever seen. I caught a quick glimpse of her with a child in tow while parking my car and knew she was tall and slender. Later, though, everything went to hell. I am still reeling and feeling pain inside over knowing those types of forms exist. There is nothing I can do but look and run away, later realizing that the likelihood of being where I need is nil. Once I get out of the office and put my show on the two televisions, the memory will hopefully fade for a while. And God damn fuck me in a toga, there is Kerry. Whatever. As usual, I’ll dream of her big, beautiful eyes looking into mine as she holds me. It’s a feeling that is difficult to describe, yet one which takes over my entire being all too often. Only certain faces (characters, too) generate what has become utterly the most powerful vision imaginable. Nope, not the woman at the store yesterday. The eyes are key. I never saw her face, thank Christ. I wanted to, yet my instincts took over and I headed for the checkout before anything worse could occur. I still can't believe the way her form appeared when she pulled up her pants. I am fucking cursed. 1053. I took care of half the routine and did some preliminary straightening in the kitchen so it will be easier to clean. I also poured myself a big glass of whiskey due to seeing something best left out of this content. Yep. She relates to the subject of the damaging dreams and appears every now and then on the sidewalk with a dog in tow. No, not the other one I’ve mentioned that seems to be training the doggie, but someone else. I can’t go into detail with this shit. Just know that it hurts, hence the numbing agent. The shift that was initiated last year by the first dream continues to plague my mind. Some of it could be considered perfectly natural regarding human nature, too. I do not think in such terms. My head still cannot wrap itself around the idea, to be honest, and that is after months of analysis. Maybe I should cook something for brunch. Pause. That was not a pause. It was a stop. Today is Sunday and the time is 0652. I am at the control center with coffee and the Romans on the right-hand display. Kerry is over there every now and then with her sad eyes. I need her to hold me, even now during one of my favorite times of the day and the same within the week. I just froze and captured a face from the show. Coral. Maybe I’ll put it here later. And I learned she is a filmmaker and photographer. Very interesting. Anyway, the image may end up here or it may not. I am unsure of so many things these days that I don’t even know which way to turn my head. Yesterday went nowhere because the weather was harsh. Lots of wind. I can’t do much when half the day is spent keeping an eye on the property in case of damage. The usual work was finished, though. I suppose it’s fine that the day did not add up to much. Sometimes the rest and quiet is rewarding. Today, though, I must be more productive. I have laundry and dry cleaning along with my typical housework, and then the Sunday garbage business. For me, the enjoyment of pro football is over until September because all teams that I like have been eliminated. I have no reason to watch the big game next Sunday, nor am I interested in the all-star contests that will be on later today. The spread of time between now and the first week of football in September is a necessary dry spell, however. The special feeling of holidays and football games must be maintained, and that means too much is not a good thing. My Sundays from now until fall will be mellow and the focus will be a combination of housework and improvements. When the season comes around again, I’ll appreciate it aplenty. For today, I will need to push pretty hard to keep my head out of the din and depression. I am doing my best to avoid daydreaming about her and everything I’ve seen, yet right behind each thought or word I type is turmoil and torment over this situation. I’ve been driven to this without a choice. Once the coffee is gone and I move out of the office to work on other interests, I need to ensure that my head remains upward for the most part. No matter what may come across the television screen or walk by my garage, the focus must remain on my work today. I will try to ‘nickel and dime’ everything. Every now and then I receive an email from the job/work/whatever website and service because I’ve had an account there since being dumped by the agency. I have very few connections through that site and even fewer reasons to visit, but I did just now. I’m considering updating everything to see what kind of part-time work may be available for someone my age. I doubt there will be anything, though, because for every position related to my experience there are dozens (or more) of qualified people younger than me. Oh, and if you don’t believe age is a factor, you’re either stupid or lying to yourself. Anyway, I ran across the profile of someone I don’t know, and naturally the image of her is enormous and she just happens to be fucking stunning beyond belief. And successful, according to the site. Seeing people doing well makes me feel like a hole in the world, although I am here at home each day by choice. I probably couldn’t work in an office or laboratory setting these days, anyway. I’d see some beauty and end up all fucked up over her and then leave. Seeing the profile of that girl this morning was indicative of my typical modus operandi. Believe it. I’ve also thought of going to school, too. The college up the hill is from cheap to free depending upon the discipline. I could learn something. And? The same thing could happen there. One sighting and I would mentally fall down and leave. I’ve done it before. Maybe I shouldn’t have visited that fucking site this morning. I don’t know if I can do anything outside of this house anymore. My entire existence has been truncated so much that sometimes I don’t realize the depth of change until thinking about joining the workforce and being around people in a bright, open environment. The idea feels more alien now than when I ceased my full-time commitments. I looked around a few years ago and located a handful of possibilities, but the truth is I was not being honest with myself. I already know that some comfortable position that is but part time is just not going to appear before me. That is very unrealistic, to be sure. I am deluded and diluted. This life inside the house with my devices might be the only one I can live. You’ve already seen what beauty sans resolution can do to me. Just imagine being in a professional environment and failing at some errant, required task because of a pair of pants. Not fucking funny. Well, it’s a little funny, I suppose. Worse, I am so weak after all this time that I’d probably cross some line by trying to speak with a beautiful woman out of desperation. In the workplace? Such behavior is not fucking good by any stretch of the word. I’ve done it before, but nothing ever came of the situation because the woman in question was very understanding and we had been growing fairly close by that point. Too bad I’m not in contact with her anymore. There is coral again. Jesus, she was such a dish when this program was shot. And her character just told her mom to fuck off. Not in so many words, though. I had a slight connection with the beautiful woman at work many years ago. We spoke on deeper levels than the typical daily chit chat between coworkers. She was very open-minded and understanding. Sometimes I wish I still had that connection. Believe it or not, the whole thing began when she told me of her intention to augment her chest. She had been unhappy with her cup size and took a chance by revealing the plan to me. After that day, we became closer. Of course, such a situation as we had back then was rare and unique. I could not (or would not) expect the same in the future because I am radically different these days, not to mention in a worse state of mental health. I honestly believe my condition would force words that could ruin almost anything. Beauty has so much power over me that sometimes I can’t believe it. Last night I was told that Niobe’s sister is pretty. I am diametrically opposed to such an observance. The woman is average, to me. But then... Who am I? What have I become? No answers. This is no kind of life. Every day I sit here at the table or take breaks in the garage while doing housework, and much of my time during breaks or typing is spent looking out the window and waiting for something noteworthy or stirring to come along. I find myself glancing out there a few times per minute in hopes of seeing the jogger or someone else. Not a single person walking past this house is going to make any damned difference in my life. None. Nothing can come of it. I keep looking out there every day just in case because I am a case... A basket case, that is. I am a crazy person so far out of balance that all my strength is required in holding up this shit and appearing as a regular person during those rare occasions when I am around other people. I just this morning learned of the reason that the music in my iTunes application does not match that which is in the media folder. Everything is messed up because I had not synchronized the phone to this machine. The process is only part way finished right now because I am basically starting from scratch with a new computer. I’d like to have everything in order this morning and am fervently working toward such an end. I had to get away from the depressive paragraph above, too. Just for a minute, anyway. Everything comes back eventually. No choice. And here it is. Looking at the image that currently resides on the index reminds me of dreams. One in particular, actually, and that would be the third dream. I would imagine that her areolae are similar to the outlines displayed in the image. Crazy person. I need to see them... I need to know everything. I need so much that sitting here is often very painful inside. Ugh. Just to see... As I said, this is no kind of life. Not for anyone, really. Think about it for a while and disagree with me. I'll prove it. 1113. I have most of the routine finished, laundry in the washer, and some preliminary garbage work out of the way. The house is all mine for the next several hours. The Romans are on the right-hand display for a while, too. The phone debacle is resolved. I had to get everything together this morning and update the software. I still have some minor questions, yet they are not pressing at all. The main concern is all of my media being backed up. The weather has been mild so far and I can only hope it remains dry as I work around the house. I’ve been reminiscing about my past gallivanting in search of the right type of comfort to ease my mind. None of it exists anymore, hence the preponderance of recollections this morning. For the third time, this is no kind of life. All comforts and devices aside, I am pretty fucking miserable, still desperate for understanding, and void of hope. If not for this new computer and office setup, I’d be further down. Thank the maker for my control center and the solace it can provide at times. I can only wish for things. Wishes in the cold wind."
Sinful Desperation
Mature content No. 356 Published February 5th, 2023 11:22am pst read ( words) Past entries
"1429. I finished everything and drove to the small market for a few items, most notably cream for my morning coffee. My neon sign arrived and is beautiful. I have yet to figure out a place to properly display such a great representation of one of my favorite programs. Lunch is also out of the way and I have things in order for dinner tonight and tomorrow. Now I have the time and space to relax at the control center with my show on the right-hand monitor. This machine is everything I had hoped, and more. There goes the super-thin neighbor with dog and toddler in tow. Damn, she needs to eat something. Heh. Cute, though. I have been slowly running out of gas these past few months. Not anything specific, but more of a general loss of interest in doing anything. I have plans to make dinner tonight and tomorrow and could begin the more involved preparation this afternoon, yet for some reason I just don’t care and will probably follow the easier recipe, pushing the other one until tomorrow. None of this is important, of course, at least not considering the underlying reason for my hesitation in tackling anything that requires even a little effort. There are many other chores around the house at which I gaze on and off all day, every day. Some require only minutes to accomplish. I can’t seem to get myself to move in any productive direction even though I have all the time in the world to sit here or do whatever else. I don’t know what happened to me. Perhaps focusing for so long upon the difficulties inside and trying repeatedly to find answers have broken me down. Whatever the issue here, something must change. Ah... The main reason for my present condition was just walking by the house a few minutes ago. Yep. The same jogger I’ve seen several times, yet today she was wearing shorts that looked like nothing more than the top half of yoga pants. Within seconds, my brain became overly desperate to see her lines, and I am not simply referring to being in the correct position to spy them from afar. When I say ‘see’, that is to convey my deep-seated desire to be right in front of them so as to understand; close enough to where nothing is hidden. I have only had occasion to see beauty in the most intimate way a few times in this life. The most recent was not appreciated enough at the time, hence my increasing desperation to be right... THERE. The girl walking by was but one in a hundred. The need never leaves me. Not for a fucking second. I’ll stop right there. 1714. Cocktail hour is about to arrive, thank goodness. I could use a bit of a numbing agent right now. The garage is closed for the day, too. I polished the kitchen for the second time today so there is room to prepare a simple dinner. This is a different entry, but I am still at the bottom of the well. 0651 on Thursday morning. I have been thinking that yesterday may have been tough, but feeling as if I can’t find a direction is not entirely a bad thing. At least, not all the time. The truth about my weekdays is that this part of the morning and the time after the early business is wonderful. I need the quiet time more than ever, especially if the afternoons are going to continue to give me trouble. Yesterday turned out fine, honestly. I was able to make dinner preparations in good time and then cook. The meal was good and I have a few more things ready to go for tonight. Preparations for both morning and evening have become one of my favorite activities for some reason. I’ve always excelled at being well-organized. It’s important to me. I don’t like to be caught off-guard these days. The dinner preparations will move ahead later this morning. 0826. All those people I see out the window are heading off to work and I get to stay right here at home. Wonderful. I remember many years ago when my dad and I were having breakfast on weekday mornings before I went to school and he drove to work. He always had the news in the background. I remember that I rarely wanted to go to school because sometimes being there was difficult and I did not know which days were going to be positive and which were going to be negative. I wanted to stay home or go to work with my dad because any other option seemed bad. The thought of being able to finish watching the news and maybe having a bit of breakfast felt impossible back then. Now I do it almost every day. I can see people going to work most mornings. I don’t have to go anywhere. I need to keep all this in mind whenever a given day seems impossible to endure. I have to remember the upsides of this situation. The pants and the sweatshirt. A smile. My head exploded. Black pants; beige top. The contrast was amazing, and this time there was nothing blocking the view of her lines. I caught a glimpse. My head exploded a second time. Now I can’t stop imagining us together like the dream. She saved me. She kissed me. She knew everything and still cared. I could see all that I needed right there in her sweet eyes, and then the lines melted away. She helped me. I still want to pull off her top, though. Can’t fucking help it anymore. I need to see what I need to see. The clues added up in my head, but before I could paint a mental picture, my senses were floored by confirmation right in front of me. Now I wish each day for the opportunity to pull her top up and see the skin. And I know how this sounds, assholes, believe me. It’s bad, but keep in mind I am just a person with no power beyond the keyboard. I am desperate. With each passing second, I become worse... More desperate, and weaker of mind. I will see those pants again and gush about her beauty sometime after. I will be more desperate than I am right now. And there is nothing anyone can do about it. The more I see; the more I want; the less I can do. A topic change is now necessary before I become angry. The home theatre setup will not be modified to send audio to two pairs of headphones. That was a good idea at first, but the more I thought about being isolated, the less appealing the system appeared. Yesterday I discovered a method for adding an external equalizer, yet such a plan would only support two-channel audio. I’d rather have the cake and eat it, too, so I have to think about the situation for a while. The computer on this table gave me the idea that we do not necessarily need the Roku or any other streaming device in order to watch media on the television(s). All of it is available within a browser window, meaning the most effective and flexible method for watching is a computer. The machine supports multiple displays, is capable of reproducing and number of audio channels, and is almost infinitely upgradeable in the future. My current computer has two-channel audio because I don’t need anything more advanced in this office, but in the living room the possibilities would be almost endless. Moreover, the computer can output multichannel audio via optical digital or analog connections, and that allows for the use of any additional processing equipment. I know precisely what is needed for the proper number of channels and equalization, too. The interesting part is that the AVR sitting out there right now would need to handle only the living room audio and nothing else. Such a system would not be utilizing all the capabilities of the receiver, though. That would be rather a waste of a very flexible piece of equipment, yet I already own it. The power and reproduction are the most important aspects of the AVR, so bypassing much of what is connected right now would not be that much of a sidestep. The bottom line is the availability of connectivity and equalization. All I need are options, whereas at present I have very few. And yes, my hearing is the reason for all this shit. The entire subject is much more comfortable than that of the previous paragraph, as well. I shall continue studying and learn as much as possible. 1250. I went through both freezers and organized a few proteins so we know what is in there. I can’t just arbitrarily pull food from the chest freezer without eventually going through everything because the end result is nothing more than a mess. I also finished the routine and left the dishes to drip dry for a while. When I move back to the kitchen for dinner preparations, I’ll put everything away and give the room a polish. Going through the freezers is not much fun, but it’s important sometimes. I need to maintain an inventory. I grabbed the mail prior to working inside the freezers, and that resulted in my becoming angry once again. Something unexpected on the cover of a magazine, one which arrives a few times per year due to a particular membership. I knew the whole thing was a bad idea from the beginning, but until this afternoon I never considered the publication to be anything more than something to toss in the recycle bin. Well, I’ve been stabbed in the heart today. If the next half hour or so goes the way I expect, I’ll be fucking stabbed again for a different reason. I really need something to change, yet nothing can. Splendid. I shall continue to see what I should not be seeing, believe me. The well of sins entry is now in the past. It is also the definition of my present.
Sometimes I need to push that woman’s face through the back of her pretty head. Black yoga pants and a beige sweatshirt never looked so amazing. They were not worn by the woman who was the subject of the previous statement, however. Just saying. Today is not the best, yet I have accomplished a few things so that the evening will feel deserved and comfortable. I’ll probably push off visiting the smoke shop until tomorrow. Curious, I used to head over there in the afternoon so I could pop into the bar and see some people for a little while. Now? None of that anymore. No one understands me and I don’t understand them. I no longer need to deflate over there, and as sad as that may sound, the truth is I need to be alone much of the time. Believe me, there is a part of me that will always miss that place and what it used to represent. Much of that feeling was due to work, though. All I did was try to focus upon what we did each day and suppress the desire. By the time we reached the bar after the work day was concluded, my head needed some sort of distraction. The conversation and music helped as much as they could during those years. In the present, the only thought in my head when I visit the smoke shop is that the goddess market is across the parking lot just in case I need something only they carry. Quite a different situation, this shit. I wish I hadn’t seen that magazine cover. My head is ping-ponging back and forth between relaxing and making plans for my dinner work in the kitchen, and heading into the garage to express to no one just how upset I’ve become today. Nothing helps; nothing changes. No one will be listening. No one will care about how I feel. No one will be affected by me lashing out toward the world. They will hear music and move along as if there is nothing to see. I am not feeling sad for myself. I am stating facts. I expect nothing from anyone, near or far. Least of all... Ah, another reminder popped into my head due to an Internet search for something with which I’ve been fascinated for decades. A place I will never visit. This entry is going to go downhill very soon. Thankfully, the time is 1408 and within the next hour I need to move into the kitchen for some early dinner preparations. I have to butterfly and marinate chicken, as well as mix and simmer the sauce. The meal is not difficult by any means, but if I can get things together prior to the evening, cooking will be a breeze. Moreover, I need a fucking distraction from two issues running parallel inside my head today. Um... Three. Don't forget the black pants and that fucking sweatshirt. God damn do I want her. 1648. I have the chicken marinating and the sauce part way finished. All I have to do later is grill the chicken and touch up the sauce as it simmers. Not bad. I also showered. Big deal. The show is still running to my right, although I am becoming irritated with the seventh season writing. Switching to something else may happen very soon. I have not tackled the cabinet lights as of yet because I’m not sure of how I want them wired, plus I may need to visit the hardware store for some tie mounts prior to installation. This may represent the end of my housework for today. Oh, boy. The thoughts in my head this afternoon are raising questions. I’ve asked them before but no one is within earshot (probably a good thing). There are no answers, anyway. Nothing. I think about her – don’t even get me started on all the others, past and present – on and off all day, every day. I imagine all sorts of situations. I dream of being in places I cannot possibly visit in reality. My head descends into her clothing all the fucking time. And then the questions flow like the Stanislaus in spring. And then I again realize there is nothing I can do about any of it. I will say one thing, however, and that is the fact of this office being a savior of a type I did not imagine prior to last fall. I definitely need my comforts and devices more than ever, and sitting at this control center is each of them. Thank the maker I was able to make this happen. 0801 on a rainy Friday morning. I’ve been at the morning business for a while. Now I am here for the duration. The weather is going to severely truncate the number of passers by, so I’ll probably be a bit more comfortable in this office today. I have the last cup of coffee and the eighth (final) season of the show to the right. God damn am I ever annoyed by this woman. Sometimes nothing more than a facial expression. She is second only to the cunt of the universe, yet both are merely fictional characters and I have complete control over the media that plays in this house. Whatever. What was I talking about prior to bitching? Ah... The weather and the coffee. Anyway, I plan to take this morning quite slow and then move into the kitchen to install the new lighting under our cabinets. I’m going to run a test and check the brightness as compared to the old lights, and if everything looks good I will slap them up there for good. I’m hoping that the new LEDs are enough to effectively illuminate the entire counter. They should be fine. The only other plan for today is a trip to the smoke shop, I suppose shortly before lunch. I am sick and tired of failing, honestly. Today must be more positive. It simply must. The kitchen lighting had better prove pretty rewarding. Whenever I feel as I did a little while ago, my brain begins to lose any grasp of understanding about the world. That is too big a question for right now (maybe anytime, really) and yet it pops into my head all the time; a lack of understanding. Perhaps I’ve been asking too much of the world, or possibly too much of certain people. I don’t need to worry about becoming angry today, though. My head is already too broken to handle lashing out in any direction, and in any amount. I don’t have that shit inside me right now. A mellow, thoughtful mood is much less exhausting, as well. Today will be mellow. I saw this and that. Later, I saw more, and then I sought some situations, eventually making the most of one that I will never forget. This is going to sound convoluted. The clock continues to roll no matter the difficulties piled upon individual shoulders. I see 1116. The routine is inished and I left the dishes to drip dry once again. Believe it or not, doing so can save water if you’re conscious of the process. Eh... Never mind. The point is I finished everything and removed that faulty switch from the cabinet lighting, instead opting for a line voltage switch from the garage. I also ran a test with the strip LEDs that I’ve been using to light various displays in the garage. One three-foot section under the cabinet proved to be insufficient for working at the counter. The older units are far brighter. I removed the aforementioned switch, cleaned up the wiring, and then removed the shields from each section. The components no longer cause the horizontal glare that had been unnerving me. They only illuminate downward and the countertop is a touch brighter with zero flicker. As always, this is a temporary situation as I have plans to add a receptacle on the right-hand wall and power it via a standard wall switch that will mount next to the existing light switch that controls the overhead fixture. The process will require that I head up to the attic and run some Romex through the top plate. No big deal. I’ve done it before. The ceiling fan in the living room was tough, but I fucking did it. This is what I call ‘cold weather work’. Heh. I just switched off the dragons mere seconds before the big battle. I guess the writing got the best of me. Now I get to see Kerry and her sad eyes for twenty-two episodes, give or take. God damn do I want her to hold me right now, and keep in mind I am sitting here yearning for her arms around me nearly two decades after this series premiered. I am a basket case, through and through. 'You piss-drinking sons of circus whores!' Not my first choice of wording, but fucking hell is he ever awesome. Jesus Harold Christ on a fucking rubber crutch. The clock indicates 1321. I went to the smoke shop and the goddess market, the latter having been aptly named by yours truly some years ago. That moniker held up today, let me tell you. I have rarely laid eyes upon such a heavenly form. The woman standing in front of the meat counter rivaled the appearance of Andrea, and that is so fucking rare in my experience that I could barely hold it together. And then? As I tossed my croissants into the handbasket and turned to glance again before heading for the cashier, she did something I have seen on only a handful (or less) of occasions... She tugged at the waist of her black pants and effectively exaggerated the center seam and those defining lines. All of them at the same time, really. In the space of less than a second, I went from thinking about dinner tonight to dreaming of more than I care to say. She was the most striking woman I have seen in a decade, and believe me... I have seen much in this life.
Ugh. This afternoon’s schedule may change a bit. I am uncertain as of yet, however, because I don’t know how I may feel in an hour or more. I go on and on about pants and tire myself to the point of giving up hope on everything. The pants are not even the fucking issue here. I saw those black pants today and lost my fucking mind, yet the truth is I need to see the reality of the situation up close. The pants seem to hide nothing, but there is so much more. I will try to avoid describing the mass of desire that developed inside me during those few seconds. Jesus fuck was she amazing to see. I am becoming angry again. What can be done? Nothing. I will say one thing about the episode I turned off a while ago. The music is unbelievably good. Fitting; stirring; emotional. The dramatic nature of the composition rivals that of the end of the sixth season, honestly. Maybe it’s better. This could easily turn into one of those days when I freeze. You know... The type when I end up standing behind the sofa staring at nothingness. I have to make some sauce for dinner in a little while, during which I’ll take care of my lunch dishes and polish everything. The lights under the cabinets are finished, meaning I don’t have to futz with the stupid switch anymore. That will make working at the counter much nicer. I also intend to clean the floor on one side of the kitchen where the food and water reside. The cats really mess it up sometimes. The work out there means I’ll transition from the office and run the other show in the background. It brings me comfort. I am looking forward to all that stuff because without it I would probably lose my shit and do something stupid, rather like blasting music in the garage because I am still upset about the woman in the market. I am a basket case. She was very tall, and in case you didn’t already realize, the importance of height is related to the lines being longer. Simple, right? Hers were angelic. I wish I had not noticed her in the parking lot prior to walking my sorry ass into a place fraught with problems. God damn, she was precious. And wasn’t I talking about housework and cooking? I need to see her lines again but there is nothing I can do about it. Tormund is spilling his wine all over the place. This is the scene that held the infamous coffee cup which was later removed from the shot. So funny. I keep thinking I need to edit some images for inclusion within this entry, yet the writing is what really matters. Or... Does it? I don’t know what this means anymore. The same cycle continues to spin me in circles. I see something, feel tremendous turmoil and loss, and then become angry for a while. Nothing changes; the situation simply fades for a while. And then? Another, like today. I need to see so badly that I feel that I am losing my mind completely. I can’t fucking do anything, so I end up angry. The desperation leads nowhere but I can’t stop it. People’s actions toward me combined with societal bullshit have molded me so far out of balance that I’ve become nothing more than a hermit with a computer and a head full of images. A few days pass and I am forced to the beginning of the cycle once again. Music, writing, and then nothing. Nothing. Adding images to this entry will make me see the subject of them, and then I’ll want to gaze at her lines for fuck’s sake. The images only add a visual dimension to my words, and not a good one at that. I just don’t know what else to do anymore. At least there was no sin involved aside from the thoughts in my head. She had the most stirring form I have seen in a very long time and the problems inherent in such a vision are beginning to compound. I believe my best path right now is to take advantage of feeling such disdain by working on the house from a defensive standpoint. Early last year I mentioned working toward such a purpose due to the conflict in the east. Well, it is not any better now than it was when I was commenting upon everything. The fact is I left that topic untouched because there is no solution for me personally. Another fact is there is something threatening the world from the far east and I must take larger concerns into account right now. Working from a defensive posture helps me to think, believe it or not. All that education and experience from the military does not fade with time. It sits to the rear until needed. Well, now I believe that time has come, and at the risk of sounding ridiculous considering the nature of this topic along with that of the vision in the store, both cause the same amount of anger. Yes, I know that is odd, but the truth of the situation in my head is such that I cannot decide which is worse, a war around the world or living through each day so desperate and depressed. At least the conflicts cause me to be productive. A defensive standpoint shall be the plan. I’ll take care of the usual stuff in and around the rest. None of this shit is good for my health. That much is certain. I would not be in this negative of a frame of mind had I not seen that woman in the store. I spoke with someone a few years ago about the turmoil that grips me immediately upon seeing something wondrous, and even after belaboring the point for quite some time, there was no solution. I still don’t understand it, but one thing I do know for sure is that a level of desire is always involved. 1548. I don’t need to start the sauce for an hour or more. The show is still playing to my right, too. I switched a while ago but then came back to this crap for some reason. Maybe it was the music or those few key moments. I don’t know. Saturday morning, 0701. I have my coffee and the same show. It’s almost finished. This will be a very long morning because I need to keep the house nice and quiet. Ah... This is one of those key moments. It’s done. Yesterday was a prime example of things in my head getting out of hand. I allowed it to happen, but at the same time the principal motivation wasn’t my doing. I already know this. The imagery got to me, and that was long before I decided to go to the store. The feeling was such that I felt there was no way out other than to push myself straight through to the other side. Even when that seems to be the only way, I still do not like it. I am weakened and don’t feel good about the way I must live these days. The devices and my wonderful office still help, however. I am pleased that there are ways to relax and set everything aside in the midst of something so difficult. I’m surprised that nothing fell apart after I returned from the store. Those little things, like dinner and straightening, really helped dilute the images of her ass inside my brain. I took care of what was needed and then fell into the rest of the evening. The trouble from earlier in the day faded and I did not feel as much turmoil over it once dinner was underway. The woman at the store stayed just behind my eyes, though. I dreamed of her while watching television as an actor walked away from the camera’s point of view, all thin legs and rather lanky. This type of thing can never change, unfortunately. My head will go completely sideways again. I can’t predict, but it will happen regardless of how much I may think my way through everything. There is nothing I can do about the processes at work inside. They just keep expanding and worsening as time goes by, especially when it comes to the sin. Today should prove pretty mellow. I have the usual routine and some laundry, and then I’ll try to continue my efforts in this room in order to begin the defensive posture. The same type of work needs to be performed in the garage, as well, but the weather must follow suit or I’ll be very uncomfortable. I don’t know how much time I can spend out there today. Waiting for the early part of next week might be better because we are scheduled to dry out for days. I need a bit of warmth. As for the office, well... This is a tough one because of storage. That’s why I keep trying to thin the flock, as it were. I don’t need to own so much crap. Maybe I can work in such a direction later today. I also have to try staying away from blasting music and drinking too much, too early, or everything will turn to shit like a few weeks ago. I may be angry, but I don't wish to act like an idiot. I must maintain my composure and project myself like a real, grown-up type of person regardless of the shit storm inside. Anger can be useful at times. It can also ruin many a situation. I keep seeing her pull up those pants. It reminds me of being in a gas station halfway down the state when my partner stood at the pump and performed the same maneuver. I went into that already (don’t recall when, though). The center seam is what hit me the hardest, I believe, because without a point of reference, nothing else can appear aligned or symmetrical. Her pants were centered beautifully and the tug forced the appearance of the lines below to sharpen just enough for me to realize that her form matched that of Andrea. Believe me, I started at Andrea more than anyone in memory because I had the time and the need was stronger than at any other point in my life to that period. Well, the woman in the store pulled me from myself and ruined the way everyone else in the market appeared. She ruined everything by being a fucking genetic fluke. I have to stop trying to describe her because nothing will ever be enough. No words can paint the picture I need. Rest assured, the occurrence was one of the rarest on this earth. I miss her now. I’ve not felt anything so strong in a very long time. I said it somewhere up the page and I’ll say it again... I wish I had never caught sight of her. Now she’s inside me locked up and perpetual. I have no recourse whatsoever.
The dreams. Every day when I sit at this machine I am reminded of their power and the fact that all of the information is hidden inside me, likely never to be released. No one would be listening, anyway, so I must continue to shove it back and sit on the difficulties and desperation. The main issue is the fact that I still want her pretty fucking badly. The first and third dreams are in my head every fucking day and I still see them very clearly. Once I viewed confirmation of my suspicions, well, that pretty much sunk any chances of my feelings fading away over time. They have only grown in the most difficult and sinful directions. Sinful. I would give anything to really see her; everything that is hidden from view. Everything I already know is inside her clothing. The first dream began this fiery cycle of thinking and altered me for all time. Believe me when I say that once I thought about that first dream, the world appeared different. It still does. My unconscious mind has pushed me to consider people very differently than prior to last year. The dreams, that visit to the shoe store down the peninsula, and then the festival just on the heels of me falling down over this shit. There have been others, but the truth is I don’t know how closely they align with the first few incidents. The girl in the electronics store some days ago was not aligned. She was wonderful and filled my head with tons of desire in a matter of seconds, yet still unrelated to the rest. The dreams were key. This is a daily thought process, one I cannot stop. Reminders in the media abound. Reminders in daily life are fewer. There is only one thread between the woman in the store yesterday and the subjects of this paragraph, and that is the word ‘desperation’. Sin was not related to the woman who blew my head wide open, only desire. The most desperate desire I have felt in a very long time. This has to fade or it will ruin anything I attempt. 0814. I don’t know what the remainder of the day will have in store for me. My plans do not always carry forward because I am often reminded of something difficult that changes the mood. I don’t want that happening today, either. None of it. I’d like to cruise through my early routine and then finish some housework. I’d also like to come out the other side in better shape than yesterday. I will probably have to push myself at some point, too. There is plenty I can accomplish. I just have to do it. Regarding the equalization idea for the home theatre, I have yet to come to a conclusion. Another computer to facilitate streaming media would be nice, although that will come at a cost (like this machine, just over a thousand dollars). That appears to be the most flexible idea at this point. Anything else, such as more audio equipment to do the job, will be purpose-built and integrated within the system, and that means more cabling and fewer options. Right now I just don’t know. I will say that I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to streamline all that wiring, both in the living room and that which goes through the wall into the garage, not to mention simplifying the amount of equipment to be able to more easily maintain that corner of the room. Perhaps once I finalize the method of improving the audio, I can perform all of it at the same time, rather like a fresh start. In addition, I believe I found a way to simplify the audio path to the garage system. I may be able to connect the existing cable going from the living room to the receiver on my bench directly to the television. I have to run a few experiments and see if the audio is passing through the system or ending its run at the AVR. Right now I can’t remember the last time I worked with the menus on the television. I need to refresh my memory. I was reminded of the three-quarter cut bikini some days ago and think about it from time to time. I believe I am the only person who liked that type of cut during the nineties. Heh. People I knew seemed to prefer the French-cut type. Eh... There is too much accentuating the hips with that style. Not good. The waist need not be ignored, meaning the straps should be lower. Just a thought. Maybe I’ll try to find an image. The reminder I saw was the form of an amazing woman as she moved about wearing the style I mentioned. I just hadn’t seen one in some years. None of this matters in the grand scheme, though. Bigger fish, and all that shit. Yesterday when I moved out of the office to work in the kitchen, I put the third show on two televisions and found comfort in the preparation of food. The woman in the market faded for a while and I focused upon following a recipe and straightening my mess at the same time. Working in the kitchen is really nice since I installed the television going on three years ago. I really like having my media running in the background. There is a comfort inherent in those programs which dates back to before the Midwest, and one I probably can’t explain. Wow, the ending of this series really sucks out loud. I may not make it through the final episode because the story was so badly written that I have all but lost respect for the creators. Ugh. Anyway, sometimes sitting here leaves me full of turmoil because I’m constantly thinking about my situation and condition, and then eventually when I move away from the office the comfort seems natural, as if one can help to offset the other (somewhat). I really need to count on that comfort, honestly. Without a respite from all this shit, I’d be gone already. I’ll be in the kitchen later this morning, and then again in the afternoon to prepare dinner. I am looking forward to my friends and family on the televisions, plus the distraction of the storylines (including my typical silly comments along the way). Fuck, do I ever want that girl. I want to see inside her clothing. I need it, really. Her lines are awaiting worship. Maybe I should build an altar. Not funny. I will actually do it, and that is why I am not laughing. I am on my last cup of coffee at 0854. The show is nearly finished, thank Christ. I don’t plan to sit here for much longer, either. Moving around every now and then is important while working at a terminal. I’ll probably run some laundry soon, and then perhaps take care of part of my routine. As I said before, I need to keep the house nice and quiet for a while, so anything in the garage or office should be first. I also need to think about the audio in the living room. Anything to get that woman’s maneuver out of my consciousness for a while. Jesus holy fucking hell did she look amazing. I wanted all of her immediately. The work today and tomorrow is going to help push her away. More importantly, the condition which drives me to feel desire so quickly when something like that occurs must be addressed here in and around whatever else I may be doing. I’ll think about everything today. So, the time is now 0946 and I am still sitting here. The lousy eighth season ended, so I switched programs for the time being. I have to keep the volume fairly low, however, because I am no longer wearing the MDRs. I can only keep those on my ears for so long before they become uncomfortable. I’ll have to move away from this soon, too. I keep seeing that woman tugging at her pants and providing me with the split-second view of a lifetime. The more I think about her amazing form, the less I feel like being productive here or anywhere else. I need to do housework at some point. God damn, the shape of her thighs and rear all stretched to the limit was one of the most frustrating visions I’ve ever seen. I caught a quick glimpse of her with a child in tow while parking my car and knew she was tall and slender. Later, though, everything went to hell. I am still reeling and feeling pain inside over knowing those types of forms exist. There is nothing I can do but look and run away, later realizing that the likelihood of being where I need is nil. Once I get out of the office and put my show on the two televisions, the memory will hopefully fade for a while. And God damn fuck me in a toga, there is Kerry. Whatever. As usual, I’ll dream of her big, beautiful eyes looking into mine as she holds me. It’s a feeling that is difficult to describe, yet one which takes over my entire being all too often. Only certain faces (characters, too) generate what has become utterly the most powerful vision imaginable. Nope, not the woman at the store yesterday. The eyes are key. I never saw her face, thank Christ. I wanted to, yet my instincts took over and I headed for the checkout before anything worse could occur. I still can't believe the way her form appeared when she pulled up her pants. I am fucking cursed. 1053. I took care of half the routine and did some preliminary straightening in the kitchen so it will be easier to clean. I also poured myself a big glass of whiskey due to seeing something best left out of this content. Yep. She relates to the subject of the damaging dreams and appears every now and then on the sidewalk with a dog in tow. No, not the other one I’ve mentioned that seems to be training the doggie, but someone else. I can’t go into detail with this shit. Just know that it hurts, hence the numbing agent. The shift that was initiated last year by the first dream continues to plague my mind. Some of it could be considered perfectly natural regarding human nature, too. I do not think in such terms. My head still cannot wrap itself around the idea, to be honest, and that is after months of analysis. Maybe I should cook something for brunch. Pause.
That was not a pause. It was a stop. Today is Sunday and the time is 0652. I am at the control center with coffee and the Romans on the right-hand display. Kerry is over there every now and then with her sad eyes. I need her to hold me, even now during one of my favorite times of the day and the same within the week. I just froze and captured a face from the show. Coral. Maybe I’ll put it here later. And I learned she is a filmmaker and photographer. Very interesting. Anyway, the image may end up here or it may not. I am unsure of so many things these days that I don’t even know which way to turn my head. Yesterday went nowhere because the weather was harsh. Lots of wind. I can’t do much when half the day is spent keeping an eye on the property in case of damage. The usual work was finished, though. I suppose it’s fine that the day did not add up to much. Sometimes the rest and quiet is rewarding. Today, though, I must be more productive. I have laundry and dry cleaning along with my typical housework, and then the Sunday garbage business. For me, the enjoyment of pro football is over until September because all teams that I like have been eliminated. I have no reason to watch the big game next Sunday, nor am I interested in the all-star contests that will be on later today. The spread of time between now and the first week of football in September is a necessary dry spell, however. The special feeling of holidays and football games must be maintained, and that means too much is not a good thing. My Sundays from now until fall will be mellow and the focus will be a combination of housework and improvements. When the season comes around again, I’ll appreciate it aplenty. For today, I will need to push pretty hard to keep my head out of the din and depression. I am doing my best to avoid daydreaming about her and everything I’ve seen, yet right behind each thought or word I type is turmoil and torment over this situation. I’ve been driven to this without a choice. Once the coffee is gone and I move out of the office to work on other interests, I need to ensure that my head remains upward for the most part. No matter what may come across the television screen or walk by my garage, the focus must remain on my work today. I will try to ‘nickel and dime’ everything. Every now and then I receive an email from the job/work/whatever website and service because I’ve had an account there since being dumped by the agency. I have very few connections through that site and even fewer reasons to visit, but I did just now. I’m considering updating everything to see what kind of part-time work may be available for someone my age. I doubt there will be anything, though, because for every position related to my experience there are dozens (or more) of qualified people younger than me. Oh, and if you don’t believe age is a factor, you’re either stupid or lying to yourself. Anyway, I ran across the profile of someone I don’t know, and naturally the image of her is enormous and she just happens to be fucking stunning beyond belief. And successful, according to the site. Seeing people doing well makes me feel like a hole in the world, although I am here at home each day by choice. I probably couldn’t work in an office or laboratory setting these days, anyway. I’d see some beauty and end up all fucked up over her and then leave. Seeing the profile of that girl this morning was indicative of my typical modus operandi. Believe it. I’ve also thought of going to school, too. The college up the hill is from cheap to free depending upon the discipline. I could learn something. And? The same thing could happen there. One sighting and I would mentally fall down and leave. I’ve done it before. Maybe I shouldn’t have visited that fucking site this morning. I don’t know if I can do anything outside of this house anymore. My entire existence has been truncated so much that sometimes I don’t realize the depth of change until thinking about joining the workforce and being around people in a bright, open environment. The idea feels more alien now than when I ceased my full-time commitments. I looked around a few years ago and located a handful of possibilities, but the truth is I was not being honest with myself. I already know that some comfortable position that is but part time is just not going to appear before me. That is very unrealistic, to be sure. I am deluded and diluted. This life inside the house with my devices might be the only one I can live. You’ve already seen what beauty sans resolution can do to me. Just imagine being in a professional environment and failing at some errant, required task because of a pair of pants. Not fucking funny. Well, it’s a little funny, I suppose. Worse, I am so weak after all this time that I’d probably cross some line by trying to speak with a beautiful woman out of desperation. In the workplace? Such behavior is not fucking good by any stretch of the word. I’ve done it before, but nothing ever came of the situation because the woman in question was very understanding and we had been growing fairly close by that point. Too bad I’m not in contact with her anymore. There is coral again. Jesus, she was such a dish when this program was shot. And her character just told her mom to fuck off. Not in so many words, though. I had a slight connection with the beautiful woman at work many years ago. We spoke on deeper levels than the typical daily chit chat between coworkers. She was very open-minded and understanding. Sometimes I wish I still had that connection. Believe it or not, the whole thing began when she told me of her intention to augment her chest. She had been unhappy with her cup size and took a chance by revealing the plan to me. After that day, we became closer. Of course, such a situation as we had back then was rare and unique. I could not (or would not) expect the same in the future because I am radically different these days, not to mention in a worse state of mental health. I honestly believe my condition would force words that could ruin almost anything. Beauty has so much power over me that sometimes I can’t believe it. Last night I was told that Niobe’s sister is pretty. I am diametrically opposed to such an observance. The woman is average, to me. But then... Who am I? What have I become? No answers. This is no kind of life. Every day I sit here at the table or take breaks in the garage while doing housework, and much of my time during breaks or typing is spent looking out the window and waiting for something noteworthy or stirring to come along. I find myself glancing out there a few times per minute in hopes of seeing the jogger or someone else. Not a single person walking past this house is going to make any damned difference in my life. None. Nothing can come of it. I keep looking out there every day just in case because I am a case... A basket case, that is. I am a crazy person so far out of balance that all my strength is required in holding up this shit and appearing as a regular person during those rare occasions when I am around other people. I just this morning learned of the reason that the music in my iTunes application does not match that which is in the media folder. Everything is messed up because I had not synchronized the phone to this machine. The process is only part way finished right now because I am basically starting from scratch with a new computer. I’d like to have everything in order this morning and am fervently working toward such an end. I had to get away from the depressive paragraph above, too. Just for a minute, anyway. Everything comes back eventually. No choice. And here it is. Looking at the image that currently resides on the index reminds me of dreams. One in particular, actually, and that would be the third dream. I would imagine that her areolae are similar to the outlines displayed in the image. Crazy person. I need to see them... I need to know everything. I need so much that sitting here is often very painful inside. Ugh. Just to see... As I said, this is no kind of life. Not for anyone, really. Think about it for a while and disagree with me. I'll prove it. 1113. I have most of the routine finished, laundry in the washer, and some preliminary garbage work out of the way. The house is all mine for the next several hours. The Romans are on the right-hand display for a while, too. The phone debacle is resolved. I had to get everything together this morning and update the software. I still have some minor questions, yet they are not pressing at all. The main concern is all of my media being backed up. The weather has been mild so far and I can only hope it remains dry as I work around the house. I’ve been reminiscing about my past gallivanting in search of the right type of comfort to ease my mind. None of it exists anymore, hence the preponderance of recollections this morning. For the third time, this is no kind of life. All comforts and devices aside, I am pretty fucking miserable, still desperate for understanding, and void of hope. If not for this new computer and office setup, I’d be further down. Thank the maker for my control center and the solace it can provide at times. I can only wish for things. Wishes in the cold wind."
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