The Desperation of Desire Mature content No. 361 Published February 23rd, 2023 8:06am pst read ( words) Past entries "1030. I have my favorite glass of depressant sitting here with me at the table. I still need to keep the house quiet, so the work is still waiting. I don’t mind at all because I have all the time in the world. I had a movie on the other display for a while but turned it off due to so much damaging information splayed across the screen, some of which relates to the damaging dreams and clearly defines the main issue. The latter cannot be expanded upon within the content, however. Ah... She is awake. I can begin my routine now and put the third show on two televisions to keep me company. A few minutes ago I was taking a break in the garage while imagery flew through my mind and caused me to fall down a bit. Visions of closet doors were interspersed within floating bubbles of happiness. Unfortunately, I can’t go into that shit, either. This is all so very bad. I guess I’ll hop to my housework and leave this fucking crap behind for a while. 1223 is what I see on the little clock now. My daily routine is finished and I have some laundry in the washer. After polishing the kitchen, I decided to make some chicken salad which is now normalizing in the refrigerator. That is one of my favorite lunch items, especially considering the last batch I made turned out to be absolutely delicious. Today is Saturday, which means I can do a bit of preliminary garbage work in support of tomorrow. While working this morning, one of the episodes involving some unbelievable beauty was playing in the background. I can’t even begin to comment upon the characters because the process will accomplish nothing more than reminding me of the current circumstance within my head. Even my science fiction programming causes problems at times, not just the programs on HBO. The movie earlier was likely one of the worst decisions, ever, too. I saw some things which immediately reminded me that the damaging dreams have taken a heavy toll on my mind. Ho-ly shit. I didn’t need that, but at the same time I had to stare. Thank Christ that film is nearly forty years old or I’d be scouring the Internet for still images of the unique beauty contained therein. This is such a bad situation that even I can’t believe it. I don’t know what the remainder of this day has in store for me. Not a clue. The only certainty is that something will come along either on the display or on the sidewalk to derail whatever I attempt. Eric is about to raise his voice. I fucking love it. Ah... There it was. I wish I had even a fraction of that sort of power. I am weakened and wrecked. Quite the reverse. Here I sit at 1705 on the same day. All of my planned work is finished. I watched a movie for a few hours along with some nice lunch. Being at the control center this late in the day is unusual for me. I do not spend much time here after close of business hours because the dinner preparation slash social time takes over. Well, not today. I need this type of comfort sometimes. Nothing else can suffice. The film from this morning has stuck with me for reasons I cannot reveal here. I’ll have to think on everything for a while before commenting again. I can’t get the memories and images out of my head today. They have become pervasive, honestly, and since last summer some have had me at my wits’ end. Perhaps if I had never experienced any of what took place in the past, I’d be better off. Not missing them, and all that type of shit. I miss far too much and think about different situations several times each hour, every day. Ooh-fa. I guess there was an emergency some days ago in the court, and I just learned that the issue was with someone with whom I am familiar. Damn. My heart goes out to that family. And with that, the time to transition into the main living area is at hand. 0659 Sunday morning with coffee and my friends. Yes, I type that almost every day because I am weird. The view out my office window is very calming right now, too. In a little while the sun will come through and force me to close the blinds, but for right now it is very nice to see the hills. Something like this in the morning is nice after the most tumultuous decade ever. Twelve years, actually, but the word ‘decade’ can suffice for now. Last night I was trying to work out a timeline from just prior to the glow until ninety-six, along with my places of work. I went over information for a little while and then tired myself out. The peaceful nature of sitting here this morning is helping ease all that crap from last night. I have my typical Sunday business in a few hours, the garbage work, and whatever else might seem appealing later today. Right now I don’t know where this day will take me, but the prospect of Sunday chores is very nice. I find the process relaxing and rewarding, and considering the mass of turmoil inside my head and heart lately, anything with the power to alleviate my symptoms is welcomed, including cleaning the house. I’ll be here for the next couple of hours, though, because I have three different situations going through my head and I need to put some words to the screen within two distinct memos and while the information is fairly fresh. Oh, I just found a new bag for my camera at a hell of a discount. Nice. Anyway... I have to do lots of thinking today because the threat of an unproductive afternoon is becoming stronger as the weeks roll by. When I am in the middle of housework or some project, my head remains focused upon the task and I don’t dwell on the missing pieces quite so much, but then the free time appears in front of me and I don’t know what to do. Sometimes I end up so fucking paralyzed that the future ceases to feel worth the time. All I see is one giant wait period, the other side of which appears to be exactly where I am right now, meaning the entire trip seems a waste of effort. I mean, why go through all those years searching for improvement or understanding if the possibility does not outweigh the time? If I can keep the routine and other work at a slower pace, perhaps the free time can come along appearing more relaxing. Oh, hell... I don’t fucking know anymore. I am still grasping for any idea which eases the difficulty. The feeling of completely losing my way during the afternoon is often worse than loneliness. Believe it. I do. Maybe when this cold weather pattern snaps and we warm up some I can get into some other projects and advance this house while keeping my head above the threshold of depression. Today can be the starting point for such planning, I suppose. All I have to do is spread everything out and maintain a good pace. The thinking will follow along as I move around and accomplish my work. The time is now 0834 and I have my last cup of coffee for the morning. The show is still on the right-hand display, although I am barely paying attention right now. There are lots of ideas in my head for housework later, and I am hoping that the day will move along well once the quiet time is over. I’ll have a few hours alone today. The blinds are now closed due to the sun being pointed directly at my office window. That means the camera is providing me with a view of the driveways and street. I can feel the bad thoughts trying to encapsulate my brain at this very moment and will have to work hard to keep them at bay. I really don’t want that crap taking over today. The upside is that if I can overcome these early hours and come out the other side in good shape, that will go a long way to helping this day to feel rewarding. I need the evening to be something I deserve rather than mere advancement of the clock. The new camera bag will allow me to organize this room more effectively, too. Whenever I gain something that assists in neatening an area, it usually leads to improvements elsewhere. I really need that feeling right now. I also have the kitchen storage project to consider today. There is plenty that can occupy my mind. I just need to get to the housework before falling off a cliff. I keep seeing her dashing across the pavement, all tight pants and bouncing breasts, hair flowing in the breeze, and I can’t seem to stop wanting her in every conceivable way. Desperation is a very bad thing and has carried me to some questionable decisions in the past. I can’t have anything like that these days because my apple cart crashing would be the end of everything. Not good. I don’t understand why the lines and visions affect me this deeply. I’ve tried to understand where the obsession came from, yet no matter which way I go the idea seems to point back to me and where I’ve been for the last twenty-plus years. I mentioned before that I do know a large part of how I came to be so desperate, and if it proves true, I’ll be in worse shape for knowing. It is also the primary reason that I so badly need to speak with another person about all of this shit. The feeling is becoming dire. Throughout each day since that vision first appeared to my desperate eyes, the image of her flips on and off inside my head no matter what I may be doing at a given time. Watching the show in the evening? Oh, yes... She pops into my brain during that, too. Any female that appears even remotely attractive causes me to recall her gait and then I fall down and have trouble following the story. I don’t believe there is anything available to me these days with the power to remove that incredible beauty from my head. Over and over every day, she runs and shows off every fucking trait that I have ever found attractive. All of the others tend to pale when I think of her. The imagery is slicing me to ribbons inside and causing the unrequited desire to turn to anger much of the time. I don’t think I can do anything about this, either. I am fucking stuck in a cycle of damage. Everything hurts so much. 0855. I am starting to feel antsy in this chair. I need to take care of part of my routine pretty soon and then look around for other things to do. Writing is not blowing my skirt up. 1125 is what I see on the three clocks. Yes, there are three, one on each display. I finished the routine and have the next few hours to myself. My plan from here forward is to relax in front of the machine, have some lunch in a bit, and then transition back to the kitchen to clean out the refrigerator. Afterward, I’ll move to the garage to finish off the garbage business and see what improvements can be made. I saw my super-thin neighbor again a while ago, all slender in her yoga pants. She causes no issues, though, and I don’t know why. Perhaps I have morals buried deep inside. Whatever. Anyway, the weather is warm and I may be able to take care of some of the wood left over from disassembling a piece of furniture some weeks ago. I can also run one load of wash to ensure everything is in order for my Monday morning. The value of my free time cannot be overstated. I’ve been drinking whiskey for the last two hours. Yummy; numbing; helpful. Whatever that makes me, I don’t fucking care. I have to be comfortable. At this point I have plans, yet no idea whatsoever of what may become of this day. God fucking damn holy hell fuck, Janice is stunning in every way. What I wouldn’t give to plant my lips squarely on her beautiful tenderness. Unreal, that woman. Very intimidating, however. And my words are clearly indicative of a horrible mental condition. Isn’t that just wonderful? As a sidebar, allow me to quote someone who was wise beyond his years... 'Alcohol, used properly, is the greatest ambassador the world has known. It removes difficulties, renders men more agreeable and appreciative of one another, and it smoothes the passage of the individual through many troubles and anxious times. It makes new friendships and cements old ones. Its use will continue -- as long as the world exists -- in spite of all the attempts of well-meaning but ignorant people to banish it from the civilization which it has helped produce.' -- Sir William Arbuthnot Lane (1856 - 1943) Jessica is fucking stunning beyond belief sometimes. Wow. The actor is a person, meaning quite the reverse. All ‘person’, no bullshit. 0714 on Monday. I am tired this morning. Fortunately, the entire schedule of activities today is entirely up to me. I will have to work in the office a bit in preparation for the new camera bag. One is going to affect the other. In and around my housework today I’ll have to spend a bit of time right here in this most comfortable of rooms. My show will follow. I must push back against the issues which began to plague me yesterday afternoon. The imagery remained all the way to the rear of my mind, yet it was important enough to conjure trouble. I am beginning to feel that my time in this little room sitting in front of the control center is all I will ever have. The memories of people and places are beginning to feel as if they never existed. That may be due to the passage of time or something else, but whatever the case, I am foiled again and cannot seem to find an upward trajectory. My housework today may help if I can keep my brain out of the black. All I can do is try. I was looking back at an older entry – from just over a year ago, actually – due to seeking references to a certain character from the program I am currently watching. I never mentioned her or the extremely important exchange of words between herself and another person. She was a dancer on the show, and when I considered placing her words here, I thought I may have already. Hence the search. Well, what I did find was a paragraph regarding a dancer from a different series. The key to the latter character was her face, and I attempted to describe the expression and then quickly failed after realizing I do not have the creative capacity to do her justice. The first time I paid full attention to that particular dancer was a few episodes later, and from the rear. Yep, the lines were involved. Her face is key, however, and I was reminded of it by the aforementioned saddest imaginable conversation and the girl’s facial expression when she spoke. This may all be confusing. The point is I am feeling so far down and so damned sad these days that I tend to gravitate toward anything which may help provide me with the tools required to adequately describe my emotional state. Those two characters are as indescribable as my current condition. With this new system, perhaps at some point I can capture their faces and include them here. Desperation may be in all of the titles lately, but sadness rules the roost. I shall continue to seek an answer to the question of why those two fictional characters affected me so deeply. One was on my right-hand display a little while ago and prompted me to find the connection between her extremely sad words and my rampant desperation in life. I still don’t know why the conversation struck me because I’ve heard a plethora of different descriptions regarding people’s dissatisfaction with life or disillusionment in the same. This one clearly stood head and shoulders above the rest, most likely due to being written by a team of very talented writers (some of whom may have actually had their own issues which crept into the dialog). At least I haven’t completely given up on this shit yet. I suppose that is a positive. 0826 is now displayed on the clocks. I believe I’ll have one more cup of coffee before transitioning to something else. The show is still over there keeping me company. In a little while I’ll get out of the office and plan some of my day. 0956. I took care of half of my routine this morning and poured a big glass of whiskey for posterity. Nice. My garage is open for business and the camera is in operation, showing me the area in front of both houses. My brain began to overload earlier and now I am all fucked up over beauty again. The feeling comes and goes, today being the former, and for a while there it was pretty damned forceful. Ah, shit. I need to display the flag. Oops. Better. I really need to see everything. Bad. Look at Zarcia on this page, as well as the last few entries, and pay close attention to the way her breasts appear under the shirt, most notably in the first image. Do you see? Well, you probably don’t give a shit, but I can’t help seeing the subject of the damaging dreams in my mind when I look at the image above. I can’t fucking stop seeing that one very hurtful vision of her from weeks ago. It was fucking amazing, I tell you, and Zarcia’s unique appearance forces my brain to calculate that the other one would be similar. It’s driving me nuts right now. Wait a minute... Why would I continue to display the model’s images all over these entries if they are only causing heartache? Because I am a fucking basket case and reality is just not cutting the mustard these days. All I have is this computer and a head full of fantasies. I need to peer inside her clothing so desperately that sometimes I can’t see straight. I need to know everything. Sometimes I feel that if none of this shit ever comes to pass, I will eventually be hospitalized as a result. Well, here I sit again at 1306 after a light lunch and a trip to the market. Everything I set out to do this morning is complete and the remainder of this day will progress as I see fit. Right now I have no clue as to how I may feel later, so for the time being I am going to relax at the control center with my friends in the background. The early morning had me at sixes and sevens for the billionth time, meaning I have to take it easy for a little while. There were all sorts of people at the store, most likely due to the holiday, a few of them wrapped up nicely (one petite beauty in particular). I was on a mission to get the hell in and out, so I tried to avoid thinking about anything potentially damaging. I am glad to be home. I just hope I don’t lose my way this afternoon. Experiencing this level of desire can be dangerous. It can lead to all manner of recklessness and anger. I will need to maintain my stance today and avoid becoming heeled over again. 1607. I was beginning to spin my wheels but then hopped to some organization. Now I have time to sit here for a while, for whatever this may be worth. The imagery has been following me all fucking day long and I can’t seem to extricate any of it for more than a few minutes. Pretty much only when I need to concentrate upon a task do I actually forget her and all the memories that are cutting at my heart. No matter where I look, something comes to mind and attempts to derail my thought processes. I don’t know of anything that may help other than keeping busy. Believe it or not, the passage of time is also an issue. This is a bad time. The evening hath form. I was ‘hasty puddins’ in the kitchen earlier in an attempt to streamline tomorrow’s routine. As everything was being prepared and cooked, I followed behind and cleaned. Now I have some free time prior to making dinner, which will now be a very simple affair thanks to my earlier efforts. There is a nice, icy glass of the foggy blue sitting next to me for reasons of good form. The third show is on two televisions and I am following along from the office. My right-hand display is nearly blank right now. Earlier I caught a glimpse for a few seconds, meaning my present frame of mind is again very desperate and reckless. Fortunately, the hour is a tad late for swinging the hammer. Believe me, though, I could use an evening in the garage after seeing her again. Damn. Do you think she is real? Or have you perhaps decided that I’ve become delusional? Think of that commercial from the eighties... ‘You make the call.’ Oh, and then think of Shilo. Third? Consider the real-life incarnation of the goddess of the universe and the absolute love of my life who lives not far from here. Is she real? The other one is not. Up the street and on another planet at the same time is where she resides. And then back to the beginning, right? The damaging dreams and the way they have altered my sense of reality for all time. Now take all that information and make the fucking call. Good luck. The sun has dipped for the day. It melted into the ocean. This is the hour when I would normally close the blinds as the viewable area is transferred from outside to this very room. Eh... No one wants to see me. No one. And? No one is listening. I am going to leave the blinds open until I head to the kitchen again. She will follow me. She always follows. The music of life is playing quietly through these fantastic speakers once again. The compositions mix so well with the alcohol that I believe they should be sold together. The desperation has quite literally taken over the way I live each aspect of daily life. That is not a joke, either, nor am I exaggerating in the least. This is what I have become after creating that most poignant of entries more than five years ago and then living past it. Through it? No... Just beyond the fucking thing. Every single part of my day – from awakening, feeding the cats and brewing coffee to the routine and whatever else I do throughout the many hours I spend alone – is bookended by beauty and my desperate need to see it in the precise way my mind has been manufacturing for two decades. Each glimpse, motion, sighting, or whatever you wish to call it, very quickly begins to frame a small box within which I can’t think straight or calculate the reasons for feeling such dramatic levels of desperate desire. The swing of this fucking site from its infantile beginnings as a place where family could share photos to the last eight years of me gushing endlessly regarding any number of female subjects driven by the obsession should be enough to inform anyone of my desperate nature. I became heeled over in seventeen and have not righted the fucking craft. I don’t believe it is possible anymore. I need a change of topic right fucking now. Last night I was trying to recall the numerous periods during which I worked for a particular employer. I believe I was there on three different occasions, the last being ninety-six just prior to going to work for my parents at the best job I’ve EVER had. The span of my employment at the glass plant runs from roughly eighty-seven (or eight) all the way to the latter half of ninety-six when my buddy and I were building our first desktop computers. I’ve gone around the world with that era, which still stands as one of the most enjoyable parts of my entire life. Anyway, the other jobs between those times are difficult to recall these days. After ninety-six, though, everything is very clear because those employers and dates are still on my resume. Two of the companies for whom I worked are gone now. I suppose I could petition the SSA and see if they can provide me with detailed employer records rather than just a line-by-line account of my earnings each year. Hell, I don’t know. I am becoming very sad right now. Maybe I should go back to the third show rather than sitting in the dark listening to very emotional music. Or? I could raise the volume along with the level of vodka in my glass and just let everything go straight to hell tonight. What do you think? No one is listening. Maybe I’ll lay off the work shit for a while and concentrate upon something else. Is that a good idea? You tell me. No one is listening and it figures. Maybe I am the one who did this. Maybe not. Tomorrow is going to be a motherfucker and I can’t even state the reason. Splendid. Well, if I spelled everything out that I’ve been veiling for years, this site would cease to exist. There would be no reason to continue with anything. My exploration and analysis are such that when I sit here and write, the effort to attempt to dispel things from the past or learn from the same becomes an exercise in and of itself, hence the continuation of keeping everything hidden whilst splaying words all down the pages for years. What the fuck was I saying? Ah... Tomorrow is not going to be fun. Just... Trust me. I may end up in the middle of a hammer day, meaning when I emerge at the close of business I will be no better off. Right now I don’t know how to deal with anything, least of all the fucking desperate desire to be where and when I need, along with that beautifully understanding soul right there to make all the bad go away forever. Not likely. 0658. Tuesday. I dreamed of her again. She was wearing a black dress and staring at me for some reason. I don’t remember if there was much more to the dream, nor do I know where we were standing. I have a bit of an idea due to the distance from my desperate eyes to her loveliness. That was a clue. The point, though, is that once again I had been dreaming of her too much and likely forced my subconscious to conjure that girl in my sleep. Damn it. Now I have such a gorgeous image inside my head this morning that anything analytical is going to be tough. The only path is to try, I guess. Seeing her again like that is not good for me, but I do tend to dwell upon those parts of life that hurt me. Sometimes everything is bad. This morning could head in such a direction if I allow it (or have a fucking choice). Yesterday I stated that today would be a tough one. Well, I can’t say the morning is terribly tough thus far, and that feeling helps me to remain comfortable sitting here for a little while. My day needs to be planned and I have to work out the car being picked up. I believe the dealer forgot that yesterday was a holiday. Whatever. I’ll have a while alone today so I can relax and gather my thoughts. The dream this morning really caught me off-guard because I haven’t had any of that type of trouble in weeks. I was hoping maybe she was fading away from my sleep state. Guess not. I will need to work hard today in order to keep my head above water. The routine awaits my attention and I have some laundry to process. The weather appears to be cool and windy like last week. Maybe I can finally do some work in this room today. The only fact of the dream from this morning that is helping to ease my mind is the fact that she was smiling. Without that smile, my brain will manufacture all sorts of bad situations, none of which are real. I can’t have that right now. Once again, I must point out that there is an aspect to my currency condition which I understand. The rest is all a mystery, though. That one tidbit is only responsible for a small amount of what I explore here, whereas the remainder is pulling at my head and heart, being the lion’s share of my difficulties these days. Some aspects of life that go awry cannot be reined, ever, nor can they be stifled at the beginning. We just have to fucking live with it. ‘Lump it’, as I used to hear many years ago. I still don’t know what the fuck that phrase was supposed to mean. Well, I suppose the meaning does not matter because when there are no options, there pretty much are no fucking options. Sounds good? Whatever. I’ve quite literally been combining different aspects and personality traits from a few that I have known personally and attaching them to the image in my mind. Reality? That’s no fun and will never be, whereas the dream of such an aggregate is much more fulfilling in my mind. This is a clear-cut piece of evidence that I’ve been one of the limiting factors with regard to my own growth, yet at the same time I have been driven (railroaded) to such a state by the unfeeling actions and words of other people, and that is most decidedly not my fucking fault. I would not need to dream so deeply and hide away in this little house had the last decade not shot me in the face so many times. Yes, some of this is my fault. I’m simply saying not all of it can be piled on my shoulders. The manufacturing of a woman made from the traits of a few from reality is unhealthy, much like everything else I do in life. The bottom line is that the sheer weight of so much desperation and desire has begun to break me and I have to spell things out in a bit more detail now. The rails don’t move; they direct the locomotive. I have typed the phrase ‘this is a bad time’ on 115 occasions throughout the last couple of years. Just imagine how much worse things in my head are at this point in time. Believe it, God damn you. I am not joking when I speak of desperation being a dangerous frame of mind. This is precisely how I felt in zero-two when I took that first trip. And then? A year later, almost to the week, I made the decision to turn left and drive out of the center rather than heading to the Arc Jet Complex for work. Hours passed before anyone even knew I had left. There was a paper towel dispenser in my back seat that was to be installed at that facility and it never made the trip. I decided that things were too out of hand for me to remain near others. I sought what I needed and shoved everything else aside. Well, I feel that way at this very moment. The current situation is worse, however, because I am stuck here. This is a bad time and I am aware of part of the reason. Those words will not appear here, though. For reasons of good form, I am going to try getting through the morning and being productive. The hope is that all my efforts will eventually bear fruit beyond just sitting and relaxing in the evening while believing it is deserved. Unfortunately, it is just not enough anymore. There are forces at work here that I may not be able to control for much longer. I just keep dreaming. 0852. I am looking forward to some hours alone today. The more I think about it, the office organization seems appealing because I am awaiting the camera bag which will function as much more than just storage. Much like this control center, it will be a ‘kit’ of sorts, as in something that holds all of my most important devices. This type of thing helps me to feel that everything is ok at times. There is no truth to it, although what else can I do these days? Between the office and my daily routine, I should be able to keep my head above the din for a while. I knew this would be a tough morning, too. I already said that. As many times as I’ve stated that I am losing my mind, I honestly do not want that to happen. No one does. This situation just sucks out loud and right down to the ground. I need some free time today. Bad. The alternative is not good. 1133. The day hath form. The next several hours are my own, lunch is in the oven, and my daily routine is finished. Oy, God is the wind ever blowing up a gale. I actually had to close the garage in order to avoid any imperial entanglements. Heh. I can’t have shit blowing all over the place out there, so everything is closed for the time being. My morning cocktail is nearly consumed and I fully plan to have another when lunch is ready. Why? Because I just don’t fucking care anymore. I need something to ease my mind today and the booze is all I have at the ready. The desire this morning drove me into the fucking ground, hence planning a second drink. I received a text message earlier this morning from Verizon that made me laugh and then scratch my head. They stated that since my new phone – scheduled to be delivered tomorrow – does not come with a charger, I am welcome to browse their online store for options at ten percent off. Wait... No charger? I didn’t understand, so I went straight to the fuckin’ intanet for answers. Sure enough, the new iPhones do not include a wall unit for charging. A cable will be supplied, but that’s it. So, I had to search for alternatives before even receiving the damned phone. I ordered a set of four adapters for use with wall chargers I already own, and they will be delivered tomorrow. Apparently, the claim is a smaller carbon footprint, but I don’t fully understand because anything with a battery will need to draw line voltage at some point in order to function. Unless, of course, solar power is involved. Maybe I’m fucking stupid, but I must dance to the tune of the manufacturer if I wish to embrace their products. Whatever. The problem has been solved. As for the other problem, there does not seem to be a solution in existence. I just have to fucking deal with it via whatever seems best. I really enjoy having the phone and the ability to access the cloud applications or whatever else may blow my skirt up on a given day, so I don’t mind the need to solve little problems. I just wish I could find answers to EVERYTHING on the fuckin’ intanet (Thanks, Tony). Some issues cannot be solved, unfortunately. Splendid. Ho-ly fuck is it ever windy out there. I see the big eucalyptus trees way off in the distance swinging all over the place. I guess I’ll have to keep the fucking phone charged just in case the wind takes out the power like it did in January. Wow. At least the weather can still cause wonder. The rest is fucking gone. This morning was difficult but I survived. The inside of my head is completely shattered, yet I can move forward with the day anyway. There is little choice, really, because I have to maintain the house and surrounding area regardless of the turmoil inside my heart. 1400 straight up. I have some laundry in the washer. Nothing good is happening inside my head, so I opted to do some housework and organization. In and around tending to the laundry, I’ll work between this office and the kitchen in order to ensure all is good for the evening. Dinner will be simple thanks to the preparations last night, so once the sun goes down, I should be very comfortable. 1554. I’ve been milling around and organizing whatever seems best. The new camera bag is going to be a big boost to such efforts, too. I am really looking forward to its arrival. Working in the office is very comfortable with my show in the background. The laundry work meant the show followed me into the garage for a while, as well. No matter where I go in this house, there is always some sort of preferred media right there with me. Whatever label such behavior generates, I do it because I need them to keep me company. I may have been born in the sixties, but I was a child of the seventies. That meant television all the time. I used to love tooling around the office with the second show playing, and now that I have a new machine, I can feel that old magic from years ago when I spent time in this room. Very nice. I am very isolated these days. Other than any necessary shopping, I am home all the time and only speak with my neighbor(s) on occasion. While in the garage a little while ago, I considered how much this isolation has affected me. Not from a fear standpoint, but being around people in general. Many of the difficulties I’ve encountered throughout the last several years have been generated in a social atmosphere. I don’t mean sitting at the bar inside a restaurant, though. More like being around multiple individuals and observing how they behave. After all this time – mostly since a year ago just after the close of football playoff season – I believe if I were to place myself in such an atmosphere, things in my head would be much worse. I’ve effectively weaned myself off the need to be around others at a bar or other place, meaning I’ve changed enough to predict a difference without even placing myself in such situations. Isolation begats isolation, as it were. Holy crap is it ever windy outside. My big garage door is still down. Ugh. Maybe in a bit I’ll check on the emergency equipment just in case we lose power like last month. Anyway, as the days pass, I feel less and less inclined to be near other people in a social situation. Shopping is a necessity, so I don’t really have a problem on that front. Well, other than what I see out there sometimes. Jesus fucking hell, the chest on this girl in the lounge. She is fucking cute, too. Damn. Ah... I've seen her before. A movie from roughly the same period, which was the late nineties. Gorgeous, that one. 0627 on a dim Wednesday morning. Today I am on the early shift for the business, meaning I’ll be back here sooner than on the typical weekday. Right out of the fucking gate, we’ve got Jessica and her adorable chiclets. So, the plan today is to finish whatever bit of laundry I have from yesterday, take care of the daily routine, and then work here in the office until my phone arrives. At some point, the dealership should be picking up my car. I wanted to be here damned-near all day yesterday but had some business. Today is all mine. Most of the reason for working indoors is the wind. I could not do anything in the garage yesterday without both doors shut because the sub-fifty degree wind was gusting out of control. The forecast for the next few days includes both rain and wind, so inside I shall remain for the duration. There is nothing pressing, anyway. I will be free to exercise the devices and work within the house. Here you go... Something is different since yesterday and will not revert to normal until sometime after Friday. Well, maybe early next week. I saw one hell of an image and lost my shit for a little while, and then it went away. I don’t know if that image will ever return. If it does, I shall lose it again because the wonder is endless. I really need to be closer. As close as it gets, actually. I am desperate. 0744 and I have the next several hours to do whatever seems best. As I said earlier, I’ll remain indoors for most of today because of the wind. I have my office work awaiting and the routine, plus I need to monitor the phone in case the dealership calls, and the new phone should be arriving later. I’ll have to ensure business is complete before attempting to transfer all my shit to the new device. I don’t need any communication problems on a day like today. There is too much going on. Jesus fuck, the actor who portrays Tammy is absolutely yummy. Whatever. Fiction. Shit. I’d like to... 0902. The time is nearly here for me to begin the routine with my friends in the background. I’ve been tooling around in the office in order to prepare my stuff for the new camera bag. I’d like to have this room organized and simplified as much as possible. I feel all spread out again, but not as bad as when I endured flight mode without options. I just want to have my two main interests all neat and orderly, that’s all. The wind is still whipping around outside, so my plan to remain indoors is likely to hold up all day long. I am still waiting to hear from the car dealer about towing my vehicle for repair. I am finished with the coffee for the day, too. I’ll pour a nice drink when I begin working in the kitchen, plus I’ll have you-know-who on the televisions. 1033 is on the clock and I have the routine finished. Unfortunately, I saw the paramedics and an ambulance across the street again. This is perhaps the sixth occasion of my neighbor being carried away in such a manner and it makes me sad. I hope the reason is caution and not something more dire. Damn. Anyway, I have the time and space to relax in the office while waiting for the car to be towed. I certainly hope nothing gets screwed up this time because I’d like to have the repairs finished and my vehicle back in front of the house. The big garage door is once again closed due to the wind. Ugh. Moreover, there is rain in the forecast for six out of the next seven days. Yikes. On a positive note, I’m following the episode which at some point will show off Nicole’s amazing lines for a few seconds. Do I need to see them? Nope. Do I want to see them? Oh, hell yes. She is quite the morsel at times. I will say that this morning has not been as difficult as yesterday. Let us shove that shit to the rear and move forward. Waiting. I am waiting for the phone to be delivered, a shipment notification for the camera bag, and something from the dealership to inform me that my car will be picked up today. Anything, really. I do enjoy the anticipation of knowing deliveries are coming at some point, but the car repair is beginning to irritate me. I know I will receive packages, but the car issue is up in the air and seemingly beyond my control right now. Worst case, I’ll call the roadside assistance and have them carry my car to the dealer. One more day and I’ll be pissed off. Not yet, though. 1141. I had a little something to eat and the third show is playing next to me on the right-hand display, very effectively keeping me company. The gardeners are here, too. I usually need to close the garage doors when they work in the yards, although the weather is precluding me from appearing open for business. Ah... My new phone just arrived. Now I have to back up the older phone, encrypt the information and then set up the new device. Awesome. I had to swing the media over to the left-hand display so iTunes can do its job. The best part of all this crap is the computer’s power and resources are more than enough for me to have the wing displays processing information and this one available for writing or editing. There is a lovely glass of depressant sitting next to me, too. Still nothing from the dealer, although in a little while my connectivity is going to be interrupted for half an hour and I don’t give a shit. I am not going to put everything on hold to wait for one phone call. They can leave a fucking message. I will say that the new phone is very square at the top and bottom edges (nothing like this since the iPhone four) and quite heavy. Really nice. Some people equate a new phone to a new car. It’s THAT big of a deal these days. Wow, this office and control center could be my whole world if I added a toilet. Heh. The phone transfer has become a touch more complicated than I had thought, likely due to the new device needing a software update prior to being restored from a backup. Fortunately, I have plenty of time to work with this crap today. The time is only 1311 and the process is underway. I should have plenty of space to complete the new phone by the close of business. For the time being, I have the vampires on the right-hand display keeping me company as I check the progress of everything. My cocktail is almost as yummy as the vision of the aforementioned Tammy. God damn, that girl is something to see. Whatever. She is as unreal as everything else of which I dream. What happened to the topic? A better question may be... Who cares? I can see the rest of this day not amounting to much. There are two items arriving later in support of the new phone – a case for protection and an adapter for charging – but I still have not received a shipping notification for the camera bag. No worries, though. I have plenty to keep me occupied for days. I’ll probably fold yesterday’s laundry at some point and then finish off the kitchen, too. The remaining time shall be spent right here in the office between organization and computer work. I don’t have many reasons to push harder these days. One positive is that I was able to open the garage since the wind has calmed quite a bit. The rain is coming tonight, I believe. Maybe I should turn off ‘desperation’ in favor of ‘regret’. The latter is something with which I have never come to terms, even at my age. I’ve been considering my place in society for many years, and the most recent image of myself is disjointed and gray. Ah... The software update is finally being installed. Thank the maker. Anyway, sometimes when I have quiet time without media or anything else in the background, I consider where I came from along with all that has led to my current very-isolated state. The desperation of desire is beginning to ruin me and has forced me to recall some of the more difficult periods throughout the past twenty years. Perhaps I should abandon the current series of essays to explore those actions and decisions I’ve made as a result of being so desperate rather than focusing upon the objects of my desire. All of this could be related to that huge situation from the mid-eighties of which no one is aware. Well, no one who is in close contact with me these days. There is one person who knows the whole story. I will have to come back to the topic because there is much to chew right now and I can't be effective with regard to my narrative without considering ramifications and/or consequences. I shall return to the eighties soon. 1623. My car was finally picked up this afternoon. Hopefully, I’ll have it back this week. Considering my background in automotive diagnosis and repair, I don’t imagine the problem will take long. I also finished setting up the phone. All I have to do for finalizing the transaction is to clear the old phone and return it to the store. No big deal. One of my two supporting packages arrived, but not the case. I’m chomping at the bit to protect this new phone. Patience, I guess. Everything for dinner is prepared, too. I’m hoping the evening proves relaxing. The rain is falling outside. Nice. I wasn’t expecting any until the wee hours of the morning. End of line." 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
The Desperation of Desire Mature content No. 361 Published February 23rd, 2023 8:06am pst read ( words) Past entries "1030. I have my favorite glass of depressant sitting here with me at the table. I still need to keep the house quiet, so the work is still waiting. I don’t mind at all because I have all the time in the world. I had a movie on the other display for a while but turned it off due to so much damaging information splayed across the screen, some of which relates to the damaging dreams and clearly defines the main issue. The latter cannot be expanded upon within the content, however. Ah... She is awake. I can begin my routine now and put the third show on two televisions to keep me company. A few minutes ago I was taking a break in the garage while imagery flew through my mind and caused me to fall down a bit. Visions of closet doors were interspersed within floating bubbles of happiness. Unfortunately, I can’t go into that shit, either. This is all so very bad. I guess I’ll hop to my housework and leave this fucking crap behind for a while. 1223 is what I see on the little clock now. My daily routine is finished and I have some laundry in the washer. After polishing the kitchen, I decided to make some chicken salad which is now normalizing in the refrigerator. That is one of my favorite lunch items, especially considering the last batch I made turned out to be absolutely delicious. Today is Saturday, which means I can do a bit of preliminary garbage work in support of tomorrow. While working this morning, one of the episodes involving some unbelievable beauty was playing in the background. I can’t even begin to comment upon the characters because the process will accomplish nothing more than reminding me of the current circumstance within my head. Even my science fiction programming causes problems at times, not just the programs on HBO. The movie earlier was likely one of the worst decisions, ever, too. I saw some things which immediately reminded me that the damaging dreams have taken a heavy toll on my mind. Ho-ly shit. I didn’t need that, but at the same time I had to stare. Thank Christ that film is nearly forty years old or I’d be scouring the Internet for still images of the unique beauty contained therein. This is such a bad situation that even I can’t believe it. I don’t know what the remainder of this day has in store for me. Not a clue. The only certainty is that something will come along either on the display or on the sidewalk to derail whatever I attempt. Eric is about to raise his voice. I fucking love it. Ah... There it was. I wish I had even a fraction of that sort of power. I am weakened and wrecked. Quite the reverse. Here I sit at 1705 on the same day. All of my planned work is finished. I watched a movie for a few hours along with some nice lunch. Being at the control center this late in the day is unusual for me. I do not spend much time here after close of business hours because the dinner preparation slash social time takes over. Well, not today. I need this type of comfort sometimes. Nothing else can suffice. The film from this morning has stuck with me for reasons I cannot reveal here. I’ll have to think on everything for a while before commenting again. I can’t get the memories and images out of my head today. They have become pervasive, honestly, and since last summer some have had me at my wits’ end. Perhaps if I had never experienced any of what took place in the past, I’d be better off. Not missing them, and all that type of shit. I miss far too much and think about different situations several times each hour, every day. Ooh-fa. I guess there was an emergency some days ago in the court, and I just learned that the issue was with someone with whom I am familiar. Damn. My heart goes out to that family. And with that, the time to transition into the main living area is at hand. 0659 Sunday morning with coffee and my friends. Yes, I type that almost every day because I am weird. The view out my office window is very calming right now, too. In a little while the sun will come through and force me to close the blinds, but for right now it is very nice to see the hills. Something like this in the morning is nice after the most tumultuous decade ever. Twelve years, actually, but the word ‘decade’ can suffice for now. Last night I was trying to work out a timeline from just prior to the glow until ninety-six, along with my places of work. I went over information for a little while and then tired myself out. The peaceful nature of sitting here this morning is helping ease all that crap from last night. I have my typical Sunday business in a few hours, the garbage work, and whatever else might seem appealing later today. Right now I don’t know where this day will take me, but the prospect of Sunday chores is very nice. I find the process relaxing and rewarding, and considering the mass of turmoil inside my head and heart lately, anything with the power to alleviate my symptoms is welcomed, including cleaning the house. I’ll be here for the next couple of hours, though, because I have three different situations going through my head and I need to put some words to the screen within two distinct memos and while the information is fairly fresh. Oh, I just found a new bag for my camera at a hell of a discount. Nice. Anyway... I have to do lots of thinking today because the threat of an unproductive afternoon is becoming stronger as the weeks roll by. When I am in the middle of housework or some project, my head remains focused upon the task and I don’t dwell on the missing pieces quite so much, but then the free time appears in front of me and I don’t know what to do. Sometimes I end up so fucking paralyzed that the future ceases to feel worth the time. All I see is one giant wait period, the other side of which appears to be exactly where I am right now, meaning the entire trip seems a waste of effort. I mean, why go through all those years searching for improvement or understanding if the possibility does not outweigh the time? If I can keep the routine and other work at a slower pace, perhaps the free time can come along appearing more relaxing. Oh, hell... I don’t fucking know anymore. I am still grasping for any idea which eases the difficulty. The feeling of completely losing my way during the afternoon is often worse than loneliness. Believe it. I do. Maybe when this cold weather pattern snaps and we warm up some I can get into some other projects and advance this house while keeping my head above the threshold of depression. Today can be the starting point for such planning, I suppose. All I have to do is spread everything out and maintain a good pace. The thinking will follow along as I move around and accomplish my work. The time is now 0834 and I have my last cup of coffee for the morning. The show is still on the right-hand display, although I am barely paying attention right now. There are lots of ideas in my head for housework later, and I am hoping that the day will move along well once the quiet time is over. I’ll have a few hours alone today. The blinds are now closed due to the sun being pointed directly at my office window. That means the camera is providing me with a view of the driveways and street. I can feel the bad thoughts trying to encapsulate my brain at this very moment and will have to work hard to keep them at bay. I really don’t want that crap taking over today. The upside is that if I can overcome these early hours and come out the other side in good shape, that will go a long way to helping this day to feel rewarding. I need the evening to be something I deserve rather than mere advancement of the clock. The new camera bag will allow me to organize this room more effectively, too. Whenever I gain something that assists in neatening an area, it usually leads to improvements elsewhere. I really need that feeling right now. I also have the kitchen storage project to consider today. There is plenty that can occupy my mind. I just need to get to the housework before falling off a cliff. I keep seeing her dashing across the pavement, all tight pants and bouncing breasts, hair flowing in the breeze, and I can’t seem to stop wanting her in every conceivable way. Desperation is a very bad thing and has carried me to some questionable decisions in the past. I can’t have anything like that these days because my apple cart crashing would be the end of everything. Not good. I don’t understand why the lines and visions affect me this deeply. I’ve tried to understand where the obsession came from, yet no matter which way I go the idea seems to point back to me and where I’ve been for the last twenty-plus years. I mentioned before that I do know a large part of how I came to be so desperate, and if it proves true, I’ll be in worse shape for knowing. It is also the primary reason that I so badly need to speak with another person about all of this shit. The feeling is becoming dire. Throughout each day since that vision first appeared to my desperate eyes, the image of her flips on and off inside my head no matter what I may be doing at a given time. Watching the show in the evening? Oh, yes... She pops into my brain during that, too. Any female that appears even remotely attractive causes me to recall her gait and then I fall down and have trouble following the story. I don’t believe there is anything available to me these days with the power to remove that incredible beauty from my head. Over and over every day, she runs and shows off every fucking trait that I have ever found attractive. All of the others tend to pale when I think of her. The imagery is slicing me to ribbons inside and causing the unrequited desire to turn to anger much of the time. I don’t think I can do anything about this, either. I am fucking stuck in a cycle of damage. Everything hurts so much. 0855. I am starting to feel antsy in this chair. I need to take care of part of my routine pretty soon and then look around for other things to do. Writing is not blowing my skirt up. 1125 is what I see on the three clocks. Yes, there are three, one on each display. I finished the routine and have the next few hours to myself. My plan from here forward is to relax in front of the machine, have some lunch in a bit, and then transition back to the kitchen to clean out the refrigerator. Afterward, I’ll move to the garage to finish off the garbage business and see what improvements can be made. I saw my super-thin neighbor again a while ago, all slender in her yoga pants. She causes no issues, though, and I don’t know why. Perhaps I have morals buried deep inside. Whatever. Anyway, the weather is warm and I may be able to take care of some of the wood left over from disassembling a piece of furniture some weeks ago. I can also run one load of wash to ensure everything is in order for my Monday morning. The value of my free time cannot be overstated. I’ve been drinking whiskey for the last two hours. Yummy; numbing; helpful. Whatever that makes me, I don’t fucking care. I have to be comfortable. At this point I have plans, yet no idea whatsoever of what may become of this day. God fucking damn holy hell fuck, Janice is stunning in every way. What I wouldn’t give to plant my lips squarely on her beautiful tenderness. Unreal, that woman. Very intimidating, however. And my words are clearly indicative of a horrible mental condition. Isn’t that just wonderful? As a sidebar, allow me to quote someone who was wise beyond his years... 'Alcohol, used properly, is the greatest ambassador the world has known. It removes difficulties, renders men more agreeable and appreciative of one another, and it smoothes the passage of the individual through many troubles and anxious times. It makes new friendships and cements old ones. Its use will continue -- as long as the world exists -- in spite of all the attempts of well-meaning but ignorant people to banish it from the civilization which it has helped produce.' -- Sir William Arbuthnot Lane (1856 - 1943) Jessica is fucking stunning beyond belief sometimes. Wow. The actor is a person, meaning quite the reverse. All ‘person’, no bullshit. 0714 on Monday. I am tired this morning. Fortunately, the entire schedule of activities today is entirely up to me. I will have to work in the office a bit in preparation for the new camera bag. One is going to affect the other. In and around my housework today I’ll have to spend a bit of time right here in this most comfortable of rooms. My show will follow. I must push back against the issues which began to plague me yesterday afternoon. The imagery remained all the way to the rear of my mind, yet it was important enough to conjure trouble. I am beginning to feel that my time in this little room sitting in front of the control center is all I will ever have. The memories of people and places are beginning to feel as if they never existed. That may be due to the passage of time or something else, but whatever the case, I am foiled again and cannot seem to find an upward trajectory. My housework today may help if I can keep my brain out of the black. All I can do is try. I was looking back at an older entry – from just over a year ago, actually – due to seeking references to a certain character from the program I am currently watching. I never mentioned her or the extremely important exchange of words between herself and another person. She was a dancer on the show, and when I considered placing her words here, I thought I may have already. Hence the search. Well, what I did find was a paragraph regarding a dancer from a different series. The key to the latter character was her face, and I attempted to describe the expression and then quickly failed after realizing I do not have the creative capacity to do her justice. The first time I paid full attention to that particular dancer was a few episodes later, and from the rear. Yep, the lines were involved. Her face is key, however, and I was reminded of it by the aforementioned saddest imaginable conversation and the girl’s facial expression when she spoke. This may all be confusing. The point is I am feeling so far down and so damned sad these days that I tend to gravitate toward anything which may help provide me with the tools required to adequately describe my emotional state. Those two characters are as indescribable as my current condition. With this new system, perhaps at some point I can capture their faces and include them here. Desperation may be in all of the titles lately, but sadness rules the roost. I shall continue to seek an answer to the question of why those two fictional characters affected me so deeply. One was on my right-hand display a little while ago and prompted me to find the connection between her extremely sad words and my rampant desperation in life. I still don’t know why the conversation struck me because I’ve heard a plethora of different descriptions regarding people’s dissatisfaction with life or disillusionment in the same. This one clearly stood head and shoulders above the rest, most likely due to being written by a team of very talented writers (some of whom may have actually had their own issues which crept into the dialog). At least I haven’t completely given up on this shit yet. I suppose that is a positive. 0826 is now displayed on the clocks. I believe I’ll have one more cup of coffee before transitioning to something else. The show is still over there keeping me company. In a little while I’ll get out of the office and plan some of my day. 0956. I took care of half of my routine this morning and poured a big glass of whiskey for posterity. Nice. My garage is open for business and the camera is in operation, showing me the area in front of both houses. My brain began to overload earlier and now I am all fucked up over beauty again. The feeling comes and goes, today being the former, and for a while there it was pretty damned forceful. Ah, shit. I need to display the flag. Oops. Better. I really need to see everything. Bad. Look at Zarcia on this page, as well as the last few entries, and pay close attention to the way her breasts appear under the shirt, most notably in the first image. Do you see? Well, you probably don’t give a shit, but I can’t help seeing the subject of the damaging dreams in my mind when I look at the image above. I can’t fucking stop seeing that one very hurtful vision of her from weeks ago. It was fucking amazing, I tell you, and Zarcia’s unique appearance forces my brain to calculate that the other one would be similar. It’s driving me nuts right now. Wait a minute... Why would I continue to display the model’s images all over these entries if they are only causing heartache? Because I am a fucking basket case and reality is just not cutting the mustard these days. All I have is this computer and a head full of fantasies. I need to peer inside her clothing so desperately that sometimes I can’t see straight. I need to know everything. Sometimes I feel that if none of this shit ever comes to pass, I will eventually be hospitalized as a result. Well, here I sit again at 1306 after a light lunch and a trip to the market. Everything I set out to do this morning is complete and the remainder of this day will progress as I see fit. Right now I have no clue as to how I may feel later, so for the time being I am going to relax at the control center with my friends in the background. The early morning had me at sixes and sevens for the billionth time, meaning I have to take it easy for a little while. There were all sorts of people at the store, most likely due to the holiday, a few of them wrapped up nicely (one petite beauty in particular). I was on a mission to get the hell in and out, so I tried to avoid thinking about anything potentially damaging. I am glad to be home. I just hope I don’t lose my way this afternoon. Experiencing this level of desire can be dangerous. It can lead to all manner of recklessness and anger. I will need to maintain my stance today and avoid becoming heeled over again. 1607. I was beginning to spin my wheels but then hopped to some organization. Now I have time to sit here for a while, for whatever this may be worth. The imagery has been following me all fucking day long and I can’t seem to extricate any of it for more than a few minutes. Pretty much only when I need to concentrate upon a task do I actually forget her and all the memories that are cutting at my heart. No matter where I look, something comes to mind and attempts to derail my thought processes. I don’t know of anything that may help other than keeping busy. Believe it or not, the passage of time is also an issue. This is a bad time. The evening hath form. I was ‘hasty puddins’ in the kitchen earlier in an attempt to streamline tomorrow’s routine. As everything was being prepared and cooked, I followed behind and cleaned. Now I have some free time prior to making dinner, which will now be a very simple affair thanks to my earlier efforts. There is a nice, icy glass of the foggy blue sitting next to me for reasons of good form. The third show is on two televisions and I am following along from the office. My right-hand display is nearly blank right now. Earlier I caught a glimpse for a few seconds, meaning my present frame of mind is again very desperate and reckless. Fortunately, the hour is a tad late for swinging the hammer. Believe me, though, I could use an evening in the garage after seeing her again. Damn. Do you think she is real? Or have you perhaps decided that I’ve become delusional? Think of that commercial from the eighties... ‘You make the call.’ Oh, and then think of Shilo. Third? Consider the real-life incarnation of the goddess of the universe and the absolute love of my life who lives not far from here. Is she real? The other one is not. Up the street and on another planet at the same time is where she resides. And then back to the beginning, right? The damaging dreams and the way they have altered my sense of reality for all time. Now take all that information and make the fucking call. Good luck. The sun has dipped for the day. It melted into the ocean. This is the hour when I would normally close the blinds as the viewable area is transferred from outside to this very room. Eh... No one wants to see me. No one. And? No one is listening. I am going to leave the blinds open until I head to the kitchen again. She will follow me. She always follows. The music of life is playing quietly through these fantastic speakers once again. The compositions mix so well with the alcohol that I believe they should be sold together. The desperation has quite literally taken over the way I live each aspect of daily life. That is not a joke, either, nor am I exaggerating in the least. This is what I have become after creating that most poignant of entries more than five years ago and then living past it. Through it? No... Just beyond the fucking thing. Every single part of my day – from awakening, feeding the cats and brewing coffee to the routine and whatever else I do throughout the many hours I spend alone – is bookended by beauty and my desperate need to see it in the precise way my mind has been manufacturing for two decades. Each glimpse, motion, sighting, or whatever you wish to call it, very quickly begins to frame a small box within which I can’t think straight or calculate the reasons for feeling such dramatic levels of desperate desire. The swing of this fucking site from its infantile beginnings as a place where family could share photos to the last eight years of me gushing endlessly regarding any number of female subjects driven by the obsession should be enough to inform anyone of my desperate nature. I became heeled over in seventeen and have not righted the fucking craft. I don’t believe it is possible anymore. I need a change of topic right fucking now. Last night I was trying to recall the numerous periods during which I worked for a particular employer. I believe I was there on three different occasions, the last being ninety-six just prior to going to work for my parents at the best job I’ve EVER had. The span of my employment at the glass plant runs from roughly eighty-seven (or eight) all the way to the latter half of ninety-six when my buddy and I were building our first desktop computers. I’ve gone around the world with that era, which still stands as one of the most enjoyable parts of my entire life. Anyway, the other jobs between those times are difficult to recall these days. After ninety-six, though, everything is very clear because those employers and dates are still on my resume. Two of the companies for whom I worked are gone now. I suppose I could petition the SSA and see if they can provide me with detailed employer records rather than just a line-by-line account of my earnings each year. Hell, I don’t know. I am becoming very sad right now. Maybe I should go back to the third show rather than sitting in the dark listening to very emotional music. Or? I could raise the volume along with the level of vodka in my glass and just let everything go straight to hell tonight. What do you think? No one is listening. Maybe I’ll lay off the work shit for a while and concentrate upon something else. Is that a good idea? You tell me. No one is listening and it figures. Maybe I am the one who did this. Maybe not. Tomorrow is going to be a motherfucker and I can’t even state the reason. Splendid. Well, if I spelled everything out that I’ve been veiling for years, this site would cease to exist. There would be no reason to continue with anything. My exploration and analysis are such that when I sit here and write, the effort to attempt to dispel things from the past or learn from the same becomes an exercise in and of itself, hence the continuation of keeping everything hidden whilst splaying words all down the pages for years. What the fuck was I saying? Ah... Tomorrow is not going to be fun. Just... Trust me. I may end up in the middle of a hammer day, meaning when I emerge at the close of business I will be no better off. Right now I don’t know how to deal with anything, least of all the fucking desperate desire to be where and when I need, along with that beautifully understanding soul right there to make all the bad go away forever. Not likely. 0658. Tuesday. I dreamed of her again. She was wearing a black dress and staring at me for some reason. I don’t remember if there was much more to the dream, nor do I know where we were standing. I have a bit of an idea due to the distance from my desperate eyes to her loveliness. That was a clue. The point, though, is that once again I had been dreaming of her too much and likely forced my subconscious to conjure that girl in my sleep. Damn it. Now I have such a gorgeous image inside my head this morning that anything analytical is going to be tough. The only path is to try, I guess. Seeing her again like that is not good for me, but I do tend to dwell upon those parts of life that hurt me. Sometimes everything is bad. This morning could head in such a direction if I allow it (or have a fucking choice). Yesterday I stated that today would be a tough one. Well, I can’t say the morning is terribly tough thus far, and that feeling helps me to remain comfortable sitting here for a little while. My day needs to be planned and I have to work out the car being picked up. I believe the dealer forgot that yesterday was a holiday. Whatever. I’ll have a while alone today so I can relax and gather my thoughts. The dream this morning really caught me off-guard because I haven’t had any of that type of trouble in weeks. I was hoping maybe she was fading away from my sleep state. Guess not. I will need to work hard today in order to keep my head above water. The routine awaits my attention and I have some laundry to process. The weather appears to be cool and windy like last week. Maybe I can finally do some work in this room today. The only fact of the dream from this morning that is helping to ease my mind is the fact that she was smiling. Without that smile, my brain will manufacture all sorts of bad situations, none of which are real. I can’t have that right now. Once again, I must point out that there is an aspect to my currency condition which I understand. The rest is all a mystery, though. That one tidbit is only responsible for a small amount of what I explore here, whereas the remainder is pulling at my head and heart, being the lion’s share of my difficulties these days. Some aspects of life that go awry cannot be reined, ever, nor can they be stifled at the beginning. We just have to fucking live with it. ‘Lump it’, as I used to hear many years ago. I still don’t know what the fuck that phrase was supposed to mean. Well, I suppose the meaning does not matter because when there are no options, there pretty much are no fucking options. Sounds good? Whatever. I’ve quite literally been combining different aspects and personality traits from a few that I have known personally and attaching them to the image in my mind. Reality? That’s no fun and will never be, whereas the dream of such an aggregate is much more fulfilling in my mind. This is a clear-cut piece of evidence that I’ve been one of the limiting factors with regard to my own growth, yet at the same time I have been driven (railroaded) to such a state by the unfeeling actions and words of other people, and that is most decidedly not my fucking fault. I would not need to dream so deeply and hide away in this little house had the last decade not shot me in the face so many times. Yes, some of this is my fault. I’m simply saying not all of it can be piled on my shoulders. The manufacturing of a woman made from the traits of a few from reality is unhealthy, much like everything else I do in life. The bottom line is that the sheer weight of so much desperation and desire has begun to break me and I have to spell things out in a bit more detail now. The rails don’t move; they direct the locomotive. I have typed the phrase ‘this is a bad time’ on 115 occasions throughout the last couple of years. Just imagine how much worse things in my head are at this point in time. Believe it, God damn you. I am not joking when I speak of desperation being a dangerous frame of mind. This is precisely how I felt in zero-two when I took that first trip. And then? A year later, almost to the week, I made the decision to turn left and drive out of the center rather than heading to the Arc Jet Complex for work. Hours passed before anyone even knew I had left. There was a paper towel dispenser in my back seat that was to be installed at that facility and it never made the trip. I decided that things were too out of hand for me to remain near others. I sought what I needed and shoved everything else aside. Well, I feel that way at this very moment. The current situation is worse, however, because I am stuck here. This is a bad time and I am aware of part of the reason. Those words will not appear here, though. For reasons of good form, I am going to try getting through the morning and being productive. The hope is that all my efforts will eventually bear fruit beyond just sitting and relaxing in the evening while believing it is deserved. Unfortunately, it is just not enough anymore. There are forces at work here that I may not be able to control for much longer. I just keep dreaming. 0852. I am looking forward to some hours alone today. The more I think about it, the office organization seems appealing because I am awaiting the camera bag which will function as much more than just storage. Much like this control center, it will be a ‘kit’ of sorts, as in something that holds all of my most important devices. This type of thing helps me to feel that everything is ok at times. There is no truth to it, although what else can I do these days? Between the office and my daily routine, I should be able to keep my head above the din for a while. I knew this would be a tough morning, too. I already said that. As many times as I’ve stated that I am losing my mind, I honestly do not want that to happen. No one does. This situation just sucks out loud and right down to the ground. I need some free time today. Bad. The alternative is not good. 1133. The day hath form. The next several hours are my own, lunch is in the oven, and my daily routine is finished. Oy, God is the wind ever blowing up a gale. I actually had to close the garage in order to avoid any imperial entanglements. Heh. I can’t have shit blowing all over the place out there, so everything is closed for the time being. My morning cocktail is nearly consumed and I fully plan to have another when lunch is ready. Why? Because I just don’t fucking care anymore. I need something to ease my mind today and the booze is all I have at the ready. The desire this morning drove me into the fucking ground, hence planning a second drink. I received a text message earlier this morning from Verizon that made me laugh and then scratch my head. They stated that since my new phone – scheduled to be delivered tomorrow – does not come with a charger, I am welcome to browse their online store for options at ten percent off. Wait... No charger? I didn’t understand, so I went straight to the fuckin’ intanet for answers. Sure enough, the new iPhones do not include a wall unit for charging. A cable will be supplied, but that’s it. So, I had to search for alternatives before even receiving the damned phone. I ordered a set of four adapters for use with wall chargers I already own, and they will be delivered tomorrow. Apparently, the claim is a smaller carbon footprint, but I don’t fully understand because anything with a battery will need to draw line voltage at some point in order to function. Unless, of course, solar power is involved. Maybe I’m fucking stupid, but I must dance to the tune of the manufacturer if I wish to embrace their products. Whatever. The problem has been solved. As for the other problem, there does not seem to be a solution in existence. I just have to fucking deal with it via whatever seems best. I really enjoy having the phone and the ability to access the cloud applications or whatever else may blow my skirt up on a given day, so I don’t mind the need to solve little problems. I just wish I could find answers to EVERYTHING on the fuckin’ intanet (Thanks, Tony). Some issues cannot be solved, unfortunately. Splendid. Ho-ly fuck is it ever windy out there. I see the big eucalyptus trees way off in the distance swinging all over the place. I guess I’ll have to keep the fucking phone charged just in case the wind takes out the power like it did in January. Wow. At least the weather can still cause wonder. The rest is fucking gone. This morning was difficult but I survived. The inside of my head is completely shattered, yet I can move forward with the day anyway. There is little choice, really, because I have to maintain the house and surrounding area regardless of the turmoil inside my heart. 1400 straight up. I have some laundry in the washer. Nothing good is happening inside my head, so I opted to do some housework and organization. In and around tending to the laundry, I’ll work between this office and the kitchen in order to ensure all is good for the evening. Dinner will be simple thanks to the preparations last night, so once the sun goes down, I should be very comfortable. 1554. I’ve been milling around and organizing whatever seems best. The new camera bag is going to be a big boost to such efforts, too. I am really looking forward to its arrival. Working in the office is very comfortable with my show in the background. The laundry work meant the show followed me into the garage for a while, as well. No matter where I go in this house, there is always some sort of preferred media right there with me. Whatever label such behavior generates, I do it because I need them to keep me company. I may have been born in the sixties, but I was a child of the seventies. That meant television all the time. I used to love tooling around the office with the second show playing, and now that I have a new machine, I can feel that old magic from years ago when I spent time in this room. Very nice. I am very isolated these days. Other than any necessary shopping, I am home all the time and only speak with my neighbor(s) on occasion. While in the garage a little while ago, I considered how much this isolation has affected me. Not from a fear standpoint, but being around people in general. Many of the difficulties I’ve encountered throughout the last several years have been generated in a social atmosphere. I don’t mean sitting at the bar inside a restaurant, though. More like being around multiple individuals and observing how they behave. After all this time – mostly since a year ago just after the close of football playoff season – I believe if I were to place myself in such an atmosphere, things in my head would be much worse. I’ve effectively weaned myself off the need to be around others at a bar or other place, meaning I’ve changed enough to predict a difference without even placing myself in such situations. Isolation begats isolation, as it were. Holy crap is it ever windy outside. My big garage door is still down. Ugh. Maybe in a bit I’ll check on the emergency equipment just in case we lose power like last month. Anyway, as the days pass, I feel less and less inclined to be near other people in a social situation. Shopping is a necessity, so I don’t really have a problem on that front. Well, other than what I see out there sometimes. Jesus fucking hell, the chest on this girl in the lounge. She is fucking cute, too. Damn. Ah... I've seen her before. A movie from roughly the same period, which was the late nineties. Gorgeous, that one. 0627 on a dim Wednesday morning. Today I am on the early shift for the business, meaning I’ll be back here sooner than on the typical weekday. Right out of the fucking gate, we’ve got Jessica and her adorable chiclets. So, the plan today is to finish whatever bit of laundry I have from yesterday, take care of the daily routine, and then work here in the office until my phone arrives. At some point, the dealership should be picking up my car. I wanted to be here damned-near all day yesterday but had some business. Today is all mine. Most of the reason for working indoors is the wind. I could not do anything in the garage yesterday without both doors shut because the sub-fifty degree wind was gusting out of control. The forecast for the next few days includes both rain and wind, so inside I shall remain for the duration. There is nothing pressing, anyway. I will be free to exercise the devices and work within the house. Here you go... Something is different since yesterday and will not revert to normal until sometime after Friday. Well, maybe early next week. I saw one hell of an image and lost my shit for a little while, and then it went away. I don’t know if that image will ever return. If it does, I shall lose it again because the wonder is endless. I really need to be closer. As close as it gets, actually. I am desperate. 0744 and I have the next several hours to do whatever seems best. As I said earlier, I’ll remain indoors for most of today because of the wind. I have my office work awaiting and the routine, plus I need to monitor the phone in case the dealership calls, and the new phone should be arriving later. I’ll have to ensure business is complete before attempting to transfer all my shit to the new device. I don’t need any communication problems on a day like today. There is too much going on. Jesus fuck, the actor who portrays Tammy is absolutely yummy. Whatever. Fiction. Shit. I’d like to... 0902. The time is nearly here for me to begin the routine with my friends in the background. I’ve been tooling around in the office in order to prepare my stuff for the new camera bag. I’d like to have this room organized and simplified as much as possible. I feel all spread out again, but not as bad as when I endured flight mode without options. I just want to have my two main interests all neat and orderly, that’s all. The wind is still whipping around outside, so my plan to remain indoors is likely to hold up all day long. I am still waiting to hear from the car dealer about towing my vehicle for repair. I am finished with the coffee for the day, too. I’ll pour a nice drink when I begin working in the kitchen, plus I’ll have you-know-who on the televisions. 1033 is on the clock and I have the routine finished. Unfortunately, I saw the paramedics and an ambulance across the street again. This is perhaps the sixth occasion of my neighbor being carried away in such a manner and it makes me sad. I hope the reason is caution and not something more dire. Damn. Anyway, I have the time and space to relax in the office while waiting for the car to be towed. I certainly hope nothing gets screwed up this time because I’d like to have the repairs finished and my vehicle back in front of the house. The big garage door is once again closed due to the wind. Ugh. Moreover, there is rain in the forecast for six out of the next seven days. Yikes. On a positive note, I’m following the episode which at some point will show off Nicole’s amazing lines for a few seconds. Do I need to see them? Nope. Do I want to see them? Oh, hell yes. She is quite the morsel at times. I will say that this morning has not been as difficult as yesterday. Let us shove that shit to the rear and move forward. Waiting. I am waiting for the phone to be delivered, a shipment notification for the camera bag, and something from the dealership to inform me that my car will be picked up today. Anything, really. I do enjoy the anticipation of knowing deliveries are coming at some point, but the car repair is beginning to irritate me. I know I will receive packages, but the car issue is up in the air and seemingly beyond my control right now. Worst case, I’ll call the roadside assistance and have them carry my car to the dealer. One more day and I’ll be pissed off. Not yet, though. 1141. I had a little something to eat and the third show is playing next to me on the right-hand display, very effectively keeping me company. The gardeners are here, too. I usually need to close the garage doors when they work in the yards, although the weather is precluding me from appearing open for business. Ah... My new phone just arrived. Now I have to back up the older phone, encrypt the information and then set up the new device. Awesome. I had to swing the media over to the left-hand display so iTunes can do its job. The best part of all this crap is the computer’s power and resources are more than enough for me to have the wing displays processing information and this one available for writing or editing. There is a lovely glass of depressant sitting next to me, too. Still nothing from the dealer, although in a little while my connectivity is going to be interrupted for half an hour and I don’t give a shit. I am not going to put everything on hold to wait for one phone call. They can leave a fucking message. I will say that the new phone is very square at the top and bottom edges (nothing like this since the iPhone four) and quite heavy. Really nice. Some people equate a new phone to a new car. It’s THAT big of a deal these days. Wow, this office and control center could be my whole world if I added a toilet. Heh. The phone transfer has become a touch more complicated than I had thought, likely due to the new device needing a software update prior to being restored from a backup. Fortunately, I have plenty of time to work with this crap today. The time is only 1311 and the process is underway. I should have plenty of space to complete the new phone by the close of business. For the time being, I have the vampires on the right-hand display keeping me company as I check the progress of everything. My cocktail is almost as yummy as the vision of the aforementioned Tammy. God damn, that girl is something to see. Whatever. She is as unreal as everything else of which I dream. What happened to the topic? A better question may be... Who cares? I can see the rest of this day not amounting to much. There are two items arriving later in support of the new phone – a case for protection and an adapter for charging – but I still have not received a shipping notification for the camera bag. No worries, though. I have plenty to keep me occupied for days. I’ll probably fold yesterday’s laundry at some point and then finish off the kitchen, too. The remaining time shall be spent right here in the office between organization and computer work. I don’t have many reasons to push harder these days. One positive is that I was able to open the garage since the wind has calmed quite a bit. The rain is coming tonight, I believe. Maybe I should turn off ‘desperation’ in favor of ‘regret’. The latter is something with which I have never come to terms, even at my age. I’ve been considering my place in society for many years, and the most recent image of myself is disjointed and gray. Ah... The software update is finally being installed. Thank the maker. Anyway, sometimes when I have quiet time without media or anything else in the background, I consider where I came from along with all that has led to my current very-isolated state. The desperation of desire is beginning to ruin me and has forced me to recall some of the more difficult periods throughout the past twenty years. Perhaps I should abandon the current series of essays to explore those actions and decisions I’ve made as a result of being so desperate rather than focusing upon the objects of my desire. All of this could be related to that huge situation from the mid-eighties of which no one is aware. Well, no one who is in close contact with me these days. There is one person who knows the whole story. I will have to come back to the topic because there is much to chew right now and I can't be effective with regard to my narrative without considering ramifications and/or consequences. I shall return to the eighties soon. 1623. My car was finally picked up this afternoon. Hopefully, I’ll have it back this week. Considering my background in automotive diagnosis and repair, I don’t imagine the problem will take long. I also finished setting up the phone. All I have to do for finalizing the transaction is to clear the old phone and return it to the store. No big deal. One of my two supporting packages arrived, but not the case. I’m chomping at the bit to protect this new phone. Patience, I guess. Everything for dinner is prepared, too. I’m hoping the evening proves relaxing. The rain is falling outside. Nice. I wasn’t expecting any until the wee hours of the morning. End of line."
The Desperation of Desire
Mature content No. 361 Published February 23rd, 2023 8:06am pst read ( words) Past entries
"1030. I have my favorite glass of depressant sitting here with me at the table. I still need to keep the house quiet, so the work is still waiting. I don’t mind at all because I have all the time in the world. I had a movie on the other display for a while but turned it off due to so much damaging information splayed across the screen, some of which relates to the damaging dreams and clearly defines the main issue. The latter cannot be expanded upon within the content, however. Ah... She is awake. I can begin my routine now and put the third show on two televisions to keep me company. A few minutes ago I was taking a break in the garage while imagery flew through my mind and caused me to fall down a bit. Visions of closet doors were interspersed within floating bubbles of happiness. Unfortunately, I can’t go into that shit, either. This is all so very bad. I guess I’ll hop to my housework and leave this fucking crap behind for a while. 1223 is what I see on the little clock now. My daily routine is finished and I have some laundry in the washer. After polishing the kitchen, I decided to make some chicken salad which is now normalizing in the refrigerator. That is one of my favorite lunch items, especially considering the last batch I made turned out to be absolutely delicious. Today is Saturday, which means I can do a bit of preliminary garbage work in support of tomorrow. While working this morning, one of the episodes involving some unbelievable beauty was playing in the background. I can’t even begin to comment upon the characters because the process will accomplish nothing more than reminding me of the current circumstance within my head. Even my science fiction programming causes problems at times, not just the programs on HBO. The movie earlier was likely one of the worst decisions, ever, too. I saw some things which immediately reminded me that the damaging dreams have taken a heavy toll on my mind. Ho-ly shit. I didn’t need that, but at the same time I had to stare. Thank Christ that film is nearly forty years old or I’d be scouring the Internet for still images of the unique beauty contained therein. This is such a bad situation that even I can’t believe it. I don’t know what the remainder of this day has in store for me. Not a clue. The only certainty is that something will come along either on the display or on the sidewalk to derail whatever I attempt. Eric is about to raise his voice. I fucking love it. Ah... There it was. I wish I had even a fraction of that sort of power. I am weakened and wrecked. Quite the reverse. Here I sit at 1705 on the same day. All of my planned work is finished. I watched a movie for a few hours along with some nice lunch. Being at the control center this late in the day is unusual for me. I do not spend much time here after close of business hours because the dinner preparation slash social time takes over. Well, not today. I need this type of comfort sometimes. Nothing else can suffice. The film from this morning has stuck with me for reasons I cannot reveal here. I’ll have to think on everything for a while before commenting again. I can’t get the memories and images out of my head today. They have become pervasive, honestly, and since last summer some have had me at my wits’ end. Perhaps if I had never experienced any of what took place in the past, I’d be better off. Not missing them, and all that type of shit. I miss far too much and think about different situations several times each hour, every day. Ooh-fa. I guess there was an emergency some days ago in the court, and I just learned that the issue was with someone with whom I am familiar. Damn. My heart goes out to that family. And with that, the time to transition into the main living area is at hand. 0659 Sunday morning with coffee and my friends. Yes, I type that almost every day because I am weird. The view out my office window is very calming right now, too. In a little while the sun will come through and force me to close the blinds, but for right now it is very nice to see the hills. Something like this in the morning is nice after the most tumultuous decade ever. Twelve years, actually, but the word ‘decade’ can suffice for now. Last night I was trying to work out a timeline from just prior to the glow until ninety-six, along with my places of work. I went over information for a little while and then tired myself out. The peaceful nature of sitting here this morning is helping ease all that crap from last night. I have my typical Sunday business in a few hours, the garbage work, and whatever else might seem appealing later today. Right now I don’t know where this day will take me, but the prospect of Sunday chores is very nice. I find the process relaxing and rewarding, and considering the mass of turmoil inside my head and heart lately, anything with the power to alleviate my symptoms is welcomed, including cleaning the house. I’ll be here for the next couple of hours, though, because I have three different situations going through my head and I need to put some words to the screen within two distinct memos and while the information is fairly fresh. Oh, I just found a new bag for my camera at a hell of a discount. Nice. Anyway... I have to do lots of thinking today because the threat of an unproductive afternoon is becoming stronger as the weeks roll by. When I am in the middle of housework or some project, my head remains focused upon the task and I don’t dwell on the missing pieces quite so much, but then the free time appears in front of me and I don’t know what to do. Sometimes I end up so fucking paralyzed that the future ceases to feel worth the time. All I see is one giant wait period, the other side of which appears to be exactly where I am right now, meaning the entire trip seems a waste of effort. I mean, why go through all those years searching for improvement or understanding if the possibility does not outweigh the time? If I can keep the routine and other work at a slower pace, perhaps the free time can come along appearing more relaxing. Oh, hell... I don’t fucking know anymore. I am still grasping for any idea which eases the difficulty. The feeling of completely losing my way during the afternoon is often worse than loneliness. Believe it. I do. Maybe when this cold weather pattern snaps and we warm up some I can get into some other projects and advance this house while keeping my head above the threshold of depression. Today can be the starting point for such planning, I suppose. All I have to do is spread everything out and maintain a good pace. The thinking will follow along as I move around and accomplish my work. The time is now 0834 and I have my last cup of coffee for the morning. The show is still on the right-hand display, although I am barely paying attention right now. There are lots of ideas in my head for housework later, and I am hoping that the day will move along well once the quiet time is over. I’ll have a few hours alone today. The blinds are now closed due to the sun being pointed directly at my office window. That means the camera is providing me with a view of the driveways and street. I can feel the bad thoughts trying to encapsulate my brain at this very moment and will have to work hard to keep them at bay. I really don’t want that crap taking over today. The upside is that if I can overcome these early hours and come out the other side in good shape, that will go a long way to helping this day to feel rewarding. I need the evening to be something I deserve rather than mere advancement of the clock. The new camera bag will allow me to organize this room more effectively, too. Whenever I gain something that assists in neatening an area, it usually leads to improvements elsewhere. I really need that feeling right now. I also have the kitchen storage project to consider today. There is plenty that can occupy my mind. I just need to get to the housework before falling off a cliff. I keep seeing her dashing across the pavement, all tight pants and bouncing breasts, hair flowing in the breeze, and I can’t seem to stop wanting her in every conceivable way. Desperation is a very bad thing and has carried me to some questionable decisions in the past. I can’t have anything like that these days because my apple cart crashing would be the end of everything. Not good. I don’t understand why the lines and visions affect me this deeply. I’ve tried to understand where the obsession came from, yet no matter which way I go the idea seems to point back to me and where I’ve been for the last twenty-plus years. I mentioned before that I do know a large part of how I came to be so desperate, and if it proves true, I’ll be in worse shape for knowing. It is also the primary reason that I so badly need to speak with another person about all of this shit. The feeling is becoming dire. Throughout each day since that vision first appeared to my desperate eyes, the image of her flips on and off inside my head no matter what I may be doing at a given time. Watching the show in the evening? Oh, yes... She pops into my brain during that, too. Any female that appears even remotely attractive causes me to recall her gait and then I fall down and have trouble following the story. I don’t believe there is anything available to me these days with the power to remove that incredible beauty from my head. Over and over every day, she runs and shows off every fucking trait that I have ever found attractive. All of the others tend to pale when I think of her. The imagery is slicing me to ribbons inside and causing the unrequited desire to turn to anger much of the time. I don’t think I can do anything about this, either. I am fucking stuck in a cycle of damage. Everything hurts so much. 0855. I am starting to feel antsy in this chair. I need to take care of part of my routine pretty soon and then look around for other things to do. Writing is not blowing my skirt up.
1125 is what I see on the three clocks. Yes, there are three, one on each display. I finished the routine and have the next few hours to myself. My plan from here forward is to relax in front of the machine, have some lunch in a bit, and then transition back to the kitchen to clean out the refrigerator. Afterward, I’ll move to the garage to finish off the garbage business and see what improvements can be made. I saw my super-thin neighbor again a while ago, all slender in her yoga pants. She causes no issues, though, and I don’t know why. Perhaps I have morals buried deep inside. Whatever. Anyway, the weather is warm and I may be able to take care of some of the wood left over from disassembling a piece of furniture some weeks ago. I can also run one load of wash to ensure everything is in order for my Monday morning. The value of my free time cannot be overstated. I’ve been drinking whiskey for the last two hours. Yummy; numbing; helpful. Whatever that makes me, I don’t fucking care. I have to be comfortable. At this point I have plans, yet no idea whatsoever of what may become of this day. God fucking damn holy hell fuck, Janice is stunning in every way. What I wouldn’t give to plant my lips squarely on her beautiful tenderness. Unreal, that woman. Very intimidating, however. And my words are clearly indicative of a horrible mental condition. Isn’t that just wonderful? As a sidebar, allow me to quote someone who was wise beyond his years... 'Alcohol, used properly, is the greatest ambassador the world has known. It removes difficulties, renders men more agreeable and appreciative of one another, and it smoothes the passage of the individual through many troubles and anxious times. It makes new friendships and cements old ones. Its use will continue -- as long as the world exists -- in spite of all the attempts of well-meaning but ignorant people to banish it from the civilization which it has helped produce.' -- Sir William Arbuthnot Lane (1856 - 1943) Jessica is fucking stunning beyond belief sometimes. Wow. The actor is a person, meaning quite the reverse. All ‘person’, no bullshit. 0714 on Monday. I am tired this morning. Fortunately, the entire schedule of activities today is entirely up to me. I will have to work in the office a bit in preparation for the new camera bag. One is going to affect the other. In and around my housework today I’ll have to spend a bit of time right here in this most comfortable of rooms. My show will follow. I must push back against the issues which began to plague me yesterday afternoon. The imagery remained all the way to the rear of my mind, yet it was important enough to conjure trouble. I am beginning to feel that my time in this little room sitting in front of the control center is all I will ever have. The memories of people and places are beginning to feel as if they never existed. That may be due to the passage of time or something else, but whatever the case, I am foiled again and cannot seem to find an upward trajectory. My housework today may help if I can keep my brain out of the black. All I can do is try. I was looking back at an older entry – from just over a year ago, actually – due to seeking references to a certain character from the program I am currently watching. I never mentioned her or the extremely important exchange of words between herself and another person. She was a dancer on the show, and when I considered placing her words here, I thought I may have already. Hence the search. Well, what I did find was a paragraph regarding a dancer from a different series. The key to the latter character was her face, and I attempted to describe the expression and then quickly failed after realizing I do not have the creative capacity to do her justice. The first time I paid full attention to that particular dancer was a few episodes later, and from the rear. Yep, the lines were involved. Her face is key, however, and I was reminded of it by the aforementioned saddest imaginable conversation and the girl’s facial expression when she spoke. This may all be confusing. The point is I am feeling so far down and so damned sad these days that I tend to gravitate toward anything which may help provide me with the tools required to adequately describe my emotional state. Those two characters are as indescribable as my current condition. With this new system, perhaps at some point I can capture their faces and include them here. Desperation may be in all of the titles lately, but sadness rules the roost. I shall continue to seek an answer to the question of why those two fictional characters affected me so deeply. One was on my right-hand display a little while ago and prompted me to find the connection between her extremely sad words and my rampant desperation in life. I still don’t know why the conversation struck me because I’ve heard a plethora of different descriptions regarding people’s dissatisfaction with life or disillusionment in the same. This one clearly stood head and shoulders above the rest, most likely due to being written by a team of very talented writers (some of whom may have actually had their own issues which crept into the dialog). At least I haven’t completely given up on this shit yet. I suppose that is a positive. 0826 is now displayed on the clocks. I believe I’ll have one more cup of coffee before transitioning to something else. The show is still over there keeping me company. In a little while I’ll get out of the office and plan some of my day. 0956. I took care of half of my routine this morning and poured a big glass of whiskey for posterity. Nice. My garage is open for business and the camera is in operation, showing me the area in front of both houses. My brain began to overload earlier and now I am all fucked up over beauty again. The feeling comes and goes, today being the former, and for a while there it was pretty damned forceful. Ah, shit. I need to display the flag. Oops. Better. I really need to see everything. Bad. Look at Zarcia on this page, as well as the last few entries, and pay close attention to the way her breasts appear under the shirt, most notably in the first image. Do you see? Well, you probably don’t give a shit, but I can’t help seeing the subject of the damaging dreams in my mind when I look at the image above. I can’t fucking stop seeing that one very hurtful vision of her from weeks ago. It was fucking amazing, I tell you, and Zarcia’s unique appearance forces my brain to calculate that the other one would be similar. It’s driving me nuts right now. Wait a minute... Why would I continue to display the model’s images all over these entries if they are only causing heartache? Because I am a fucking basket case and reality is just not cutting the mustard these days. All I have is this computer and a head full of fantasies. I need to peer inside her clothing so desperately that sometimes I can’t see straight. I need to know everything. Sometimes I feel that if none of this shit ever comes to pass, I will eventually be hospitalized as a result. Well, here I sit again at 1306 after a light lunch and a trip to the market. Everything I set out to do this morning is complete and the remainder of this day will progress as I see fit. Right now I have no clue as to how I may feel later, so for the time being I am going to relax at the control center with my friends in the background. The early morning had me at sixes and sevens for the billionth time, meaning I have to take it easy for a little while. There were all sorts of people at the store, most likely due to the holiday, a few of them wrapped up nicely (one petite beauty in particular). I was on a mission to get the hell in and out, so I tried to avoid thinking about anything potentially damaging. I am glad to be home. I just hope I don’t lose my way this afternoon. Experiencing this level of desire can be dangerous. It can lead to all manner of recklessness and anger. I will need to maintain my stance today and avoid becoming heeled over again. 1607. I was beginning to spin my wheels but then hopped to some organization. Now I have time to sit here for a while, for whatever this may be worth. The imagery has been following me all fucking day long and I can’t seem to extricate any of it for more than a few minutes. Pretty much only when I need to concentrate upon a task do I actually forget her and all the memories that are cutting at my heart. No matter where I look, something comes to mind and attempts to derail my thought processes. I don’t know of anything that may help other than keeping busy. Believe it or not, the passage of time is also an issue. This is a bad time.
The evening hath form. I was ‘hasty puddins’ in the kitchen earlier in an attempt to streamline tomorrow’s routine. As everything was being prepared and cooked, I followed behind and cleaned. Now I have some free time prior to making dinner, which will now be a very simple affair thanks to my earlier efforts. There is a nice, icy glass of the foggy blue sitting next to me for reasons of good form. The third show is on two televisions and I am following along from the office. My right-hand display is nearly blank right now. Earlier I caught a glimpse for a few seconds, meaning my present frame of mind is again very desperate and reckless. Fortunately, the hour is a tad late for swinging the hammer. Believe me, though, I could use an evening in the garage after seeing her again. Damn. Do you think she is real? Or have you perhaps decided that I’ve become delusional? Think of that commercial from the eighties... ‘You make the call.’ Oh, and then think of Shilo. Third? Consider the real-life incarnation of the goddess of the universe and the absolute love of my life who lives not far from here. Is she real? The other one is not. Up the street and on another planet at the same time is where she resides. And then back to the beginning, right? The damaging dreams and the way they have altered my sense of reality for all time. Now take all that information and make the fucking call. Good luck. The sun has dipped for the day. It melted into the ocean. This is the hour when I would normally close the blinds as the viewable area is transferred from outside to this very room. Eh... No one wants to see me. No one. And? No one is listening. I am going to leave the blinds open until I head to the kitchen again. She will follow me. She always follows. The music of life is playing quietly through these fantastic speakers once again. The compositions mix so well with the alcohol that I believe they should be sold together. The desperation has quite literally taken over the way I live each aspect of daily life. That is not a joke, either, nor am I exaggerating in the least. This is what I have become after creating that most poignant of entries more than five years ago and then living past it. Through it? No... Just beyond the fucking thing. Every single part of my day – from awakening, feeding the cats and brewing coffee to the routine and whatever else I do throughout the many hours I spend alone – is bookended by beauty and my desperate need to see it in the precise way my mind has been manufacturing for two decades. Each glimpse, motion, sighting, or whatever you wish to call it, very quickly begins to frame a small box within which I can’t think straight or calculate the reasons for feeling such dramatic levels of desperate desire. The swing of this fucking site from its infantile beginnings as a place where family could share photos to the last eight years of me gushing endlessly regarding any number of female subjects driven by the obsession should be enough to inform anyone of my desperate nature. I became heeled over in seventeen and have not righted the fucking craft. I don’t believe it is possible anymore. I need a change of topic right fucking now. Last night I was trying to recall the numerous periods during which I worked for a particular employer. I believe I was there on three different occasions, the last being ninety-six just prior to going to work for my parents at the best job I’ve EVER had. The span of my employment at the glass plant runs from roughly eighty-seven (or eight) all the way to the latter half of ninety-six when my buddy and I were building our first desktop computers. I’ve gone around the world with that era, which still stands as one of the most enjoyable parts of my entire life. Anyway, the other jobs between those times are difficult to recall these days. After ninety-six, though, everything is very clear because those employers and dates are still on my resume. Two of the companies for whom I worked are gone now. I suppose I could petition the SSA and see if they can provide me with detailed employer records rather than just a line-by-line account of my earnings each year. Hell, I don’t know. I am becoming very sad right now. Maybe I should go back to the third show rather than sitting in the dark listening to very emotional music. Or? I could raise the volume along with the level of vodka in my glass and just let everything go straight to hell tonight. What do you think? No one is listening. Maybe I’ll lay off the work shit for a while and concentrate upon something else. Is that a good idea? You tell me. No one is listening and it figures. Maybe I am the one who did this. Maybe not. Tomorrow is going to be a motherfucker and I can’t even state the reason. Splendid. Well, if I spelled everything out that I’ve been veiling for years, this site would cease to exist. There would be no reason to continue with anything. My exploration and analysis are such that when I sit here and write, the effort to attempt to dispel things from the past or learn from the same becomes an exercise in and of itself, hence the continuation of keeping everything hidden whilst splaying words all down the pages for years. What the fuck was I saying? Ah... Tomorrow is not going to be fun. Just... Trust me. I may end up in the middle of a hammer day, meaning when I emerge at the close of business I will be no better off. Right now I don’t know how to deal with anything, least of all the fucking desperate desire to be where and when I need, along with that beautifully understanding soul right there to make all the bad go away forever. Not likely. 0658. Tuesday. I dreamed of her again. She was wearing a black dress and staring at me for some reason. I don’t remember if there was much more to the dream, nor do I know where we were standing. I have a bit of an idea due to the distance from my desperate eyes to her loveliness. That was a clue. The point, though, is that once again I had been dreaming of her too much and likely forced my subconscious to conjure that girl in my sleep. Damn it. Now I have such a gorgeous image inside my head this morning that anything analytical is going to be tough. The only path is to try, I guess. Seeing her again like that is not good for me, but I do tend to dwell upon those parts of life that hurt me. Sometimes everything is bad. This morning could head in such a direction if I allow it (or have a fucking choice). Yesterday I stated that today would be a tough one. Well, I can’t say the morning is terribly tough thus far, and that feeling helps me to remain comfortable sitting here for a little while. My day needs to be planned and I have to work out the car being picked up. I believe the dealer forgot that yesterday was a holiday. Whatever. I’ll have a while alone today so I can relax and gather my thoughts. The dream this morning really caught me off-guard because I haven’t had any of that type of trouble in weeks. I was hoping maybe she was fading away from my sleep state. Guess not. I will need to work hard today in order to keep my head above water. The routine awaits my attention and I have some laundry to process. The weather appears to be cool and windy like last week. Maybe I can finally do some work in this room today. The only fact of the dream from this morning that is helping to ease my mind is the fact that she was smiling. Without that smile, my brain will manufacture all sorts of bad situations, none of which are real. I can’t have that right now. Once again, I must point out that there is an aspect to my currency condition which I understand. The rest is all a mystery, though. That one tidbit is only responsible for a small amount of what I explore here, whereas the remainder is pulling at my head and heart, being the lion’s share of my difficulties these days. Some aspects of life that go awry cannot be reined, ever, nor can they be stifled at the beginning. We just have to fucking live with it. ‘Lump it’, as I used to hear many years ago. I still don’t know what the fuck that phrase was supposed to mean. Well, I suppose the meaning does not matter because when there are no options, there pretty much are no fucking options. Sounds good? Whatever. I’ve quite literally been combining different aspects and personality traits from a few that I have known personally and attaching them to the image in my mind. Reality? That’s no fun and will never be, whereas the dream of such an aggregate is much more fulfilling in my mind. This is a clear-cut piece of evidence that I’ve been one of the limiting factors with regard to my own growth, yet at the same time I have been driven (railroaded) to such a state by the unfeeling actions and words of other people, and that is most decidedly not my fucking fault. I would not need to dream so deeply and hide away in this little house had the last decade not shot me in the face so many times. Yes, some of this is my fault. I’m simply saying not all of it can be piled on my shoulders. The manufacturing of a woman made from the traits of a few from reality is unhealthy, much like everything else I do in life. The bottom line is that the sheer weight of so much desperation and desire has begun to break me and I have to spell things out in a bit more detail now. The rails don’t move; they direct the locomotive.
I have typed the phrase ‘this is a bad time’ on 115 occasions throughout the last couple of years. Just imagine how much worse things in my head are at this point in time. Believe it, God damn you. I am not joking when I speak of desperation being a dangerous frame of mind. This is precisely how I felt in zero-two when I took that first trip. And then? A year later, almost to the week, I made the decision to turn left and drive out of the center rather than heading to the Arc Jet Complex for work. Hours passed before anyone even knew I had left. There was a paper towel dispenser in my back seat that was to be installed at that facility and it never made the trip. I decided that things were too out of hand for me to remain near others. I sought what I needed and shoved everything else aside. Well, I feel that way at this very moment. The current situation is worse, however, because I am stuck here. This is a bad time and I am aware of part of the reason. Those words will not appear here, though. For reasons of good form, I am going to try getting through the morning and being productive. The hope is that all my efforts will eventually bear fruit beyond just sitting and relaxing in the evening while believing it is deserved. Unfortunately, it is just not enough anymore. There are forces at work here that I may not be able to control for much longer. I just keep dreaming. 0852. I am looking forward to some hours alone today. The more I think about it, the office organization seems appealing because I am awaiting the camera bag which will function as much more than just storage. Much like this control center, it will be a ‘kit’ of sorts, as in something that holds all of my most important devices. This type of thing helps me to feel that everything is ok at times. There is no truth to it, although what else can I do these days? Between the office and my daily routine, I should be able to keep my head above the din for a while. I knew this would be a tough morning, too. I already said that. As many times as I’ve stated that I am losing my mind, I honestly do not want that to happen. No one does. This situation just sucks out loud and right down to the ground. I need some free time today. Bad. The alternative is not good. 1133. The day hath form. The next several hours are my own, lunch is in the oven, and my daily routine is finished. Oy, God is the wind ever blowing up a gale. I actually had to close the garage in order to avoid any imperial entanglements. Heh. I can’t have shit blowing all over the place out there, so everything is closed for the time being. My morning cocktail is nearly consumed and I fully plan to have another when lunch is ready. Why? Because I just don’t fucking care anymore. I need something to ease my mind today and the booze is all I have at the ready. The desire this morning drove me into the fucking ground, hence planning a second drink. I received a text message earlier this morning from Verizon that made me laugh and then scratch my head. They stated that since my new phone – scheduled to be delivered tomorrow – does not come with a charger, I am welcome to browse their online store for options at ten percent off. Wait... No charger? I didn’t understand, so I went straight to the fuckin’ intanet for answers. Sure enough, the new iPhones do not include a wall unit for charging. A cable will be supplied, but that’s it. So, I had to search for alternatives before even receiving the damned phone. I ordered a set of four adapters for use with wall chargers I already own, and they will be delivered tomorrow. Apparently, the claim is a smaller carbon footprint, but I don’t fully understand because anything with a battery will need to draw line voltage at some point in order to function. Unless, of course, solar power is involved. Maybe I’m fucking stupid, but I must dance to the tune of the manufacturer if I wish to embrace their products. Whatever. The problem has been solved. As for the other problem, there does not seem to be a solution in existence. I just have to fucking deal with it via whatever seems best. I really enjoy having the phone and the ability to access the cloud applications or whatever else may blow my skirt up on a given day, so I don’t mind the need to solve little problems. I just wish I could find answers to EVERYTHING on the fuckin’ intanet (Thanks, Tony). Some issues cannot be solved, unfortunately. Splendid. Ho-ly fuck is it ever windy out there. I see the big eucalyptus trees way off in the distance swinging all over the place. I guess I’ll have to keep the fucking phone charged just in case the wind takes out the power like it did in January. Wow. At least the weather can still cause wonder. The rest is fucking gone. This morning was difficult but I survived. The inside of my head is completely shattered, yet I can move forward with the day anyway. There is little choice, really, because I have to maintain the house and surrounding area regardless of the turmoil inside my heart. 1400 straight up. I have some laundry in the washer. Nothing good is happening inside my head, so I opted to do some housework and organization. In and around tending to the laundry, I’ll work between this office and the kitchen in order to ensure all is good for the evening. Dinner will be simple thanks to the preparations last night, so once the sun goes down, I should be very comfortable. 1554. I’ve been milling around and organizing whatever seems best. The new camera bag is going to be a big boost to such efforts, too. I am really looking forward to its arrival. Working in the office is very comfortable with my show in the background. The laundry work meant the show followed me into the garage for a while, as well. No matter where I go in this house, there is always some sort of preferred media right there with me. Whatever label such behavior generates, I do it because I need them to keep me company. I may have been born in the sixties, but I was a child of the seventies. That meant television all the time. I used to love tooling around the office with the second show playing, and now that I have a new machine, I can feel that old magic from years ago when I spent time in this room. Very nice. I am very isolated these days. Other than any necessary shopping, I am home all the time and only speak with my neighbor(s) on occasion. While in the garage a little while ago, I considered how much this isolation has affected me. Not from a fear standpoint, but being around people in general. Many of the difficulties I’ve encountered throughout the last several years have been generated in a social atmosphere. I don’t mean sitting at the bar inside a restaurant, though. More like being around multiple individuals and observing how they behave. After all this time – mostly since a year ago just after the close of football playoff season – I believe if I were to place myself in such an atmosphere, things in my head would be much worse. I’ve effectively weaned myself off the need to be around others at a bar or other place, meaning I’ve changed enough to predict a difference without even placing myself in such situations. Isolation begats isolation, as it were. Holy crap is it ever windy outside. My big garage door is still down. Ugh. Maybe in a bit I’ll check on the emergency equipment just in case we lose power like last month. Anyway, as the days pass, I feel less and less inclined to be near other people in a social situation. Shopping is a necessity, so I don’t really have a problem on that front. Well, other than what I see out there sometimes. Jesus fucking hell, the chest on this girl in the lounge. She is fucking cute, too. Damn. Ah... I've seen her before. A movie from roughly the same period, which was the late nineties. Gorgeous, that one. 0627 on a dim Wednesday morning. Today I am on the early shift for the business, meaning I’ll be back here sooner than on the typical weekday. Right out of the fucking gate, we’ve got Jessica and her adorable chiclets. So, the plan today is to finish whatever bit of laundry I have from yesterday, take care of the daily routine, and then work here in the office until my phone arrives. At some point, the dealership should be picking up my car. I wanted to be here damned-near all day yesterday but had some business. Today is all mine. Most of the reason for working indoors is the wind. I could not do anything in the garage yesterday without both doors shut because the sub-fifty degree wind was gusting out of control. The forecast for the next few days includes both rain and wind, so inside I shall remain for the duration. There is nothing pressing, anyway. I will be free to exercise the devices and work within the house.
Here you go... Something is different since yesterday and will not revert to normal until sometime after Friday. Well, maybe early next week. I saw one hell of an image and lost my shit for a little while, and then it went away. I don’t know if that image will ever return. If it does, I shall lose it again because the wonder is endless. I really need to be closer. As close as it gets, actually. I am desperate. 0744 and I have the next several hours to do whatever seems best. As I said earlier, I’ll remain indoors for most of today because of the wind. I have my office work awaiting and the routine, plus I need to monitor the phone in case the dealership calls, and the new phone should be arriving later. I’ll have to ensure business is complete before attempting to transfer all my shit to the new device. I don’t need any communication problems on a day like today. There is too much going on. Jesus fuck, the actor who portrays Tammy is absolutely yummy. Whatever. Fiction. Shit. I’d like to... 0902. The time is nearly here for me to begin the routine with my friends in the background. I’ve been tooling around in the office in order to prepare my stuff for the new camera bag. I’d like to have this room organized and simplified as much as possible. I feel all spread out again, but not as bad as when I endured flight mode without options. I just want to have my two main interests all neat and orderly, that’s all. The wind is still whipping around outside, so my plan to remain indoors is likely to hold up all day long. I am still waiting to hear from the car dealer about towing my vehicle for repair. I am finished with the coffee for the day, too. I’ll pour a nice drink when I begin working in the kitchen, plus I’ll have you-know-who on the televisions. 1033 is on the clock and I have the routine finished. Unfortunately, I saw the paramedics and an ambulance across the street again. This is perhaps the sixth occasion of my neighbor being carried away in such a manner and it makes me sad. I hope the reason is caution and not something more dire. Damn. Anyway, I have the time and space to relax in the office while waiting for the car to be towed. I certainly hope nothing gets screwed up this time because I’d like to have the repairs finished and my vehicle back in front of the house. The big garage door is once again closed due to the wind. Ugh. Moreover, there is rain in the forecast for six out of the next seven days. Yikes. On a positive note, I’m following the episode which at some point will show off Nicole’s amazing lines for a few seconds. Do I need to see them? Nope. Do I want to see them? Oh, hell yes. She is quite the morsel at times. I will say that this morning has not been as difficult as yesterday. Let us shove that shit to the rear and move forward. Waiting. I am waiting for the phone to be delivered, a shipment notification for the camera bag, and something from the dealership to inform me that my car will be picked up today. Anything, really. I do enjoy the anticipation of knowing deliveries are coming at some point, but the car repair is beginning to irritate me. I know I will receive packages, but the car issue is up in the air and seemingly beyond my control right now. Worst case, I’ll call the roadside assistance and have them carry my car to the dealer. One more day and I’ll be pissed off. Not yet, though. 1141. I had a little something to eat and the third show is playing next to me on the right-hand display, very effectively keeping me company. The gardeners are here, too. I usually need to close the garage doors when they work in the yards, although the weather is precluding me from appearing open for business. Ah... My new phone just arrived. Now I have to back up the older phone, encrypt the information and then set up the new device. Awesome. I had to swing the media over to the left-hand display so iTunes can do its job. The best part of all this crap is the computer’s power and resources are more than enough for me to have the wing displays processing information and this one available for writing or editing. There is a lovely glass of depressant sitting next to me, too. Still nothing from the dealer, although in a little while my connectivity is going to be interrupted for half an hour and I don’t give a shit. I am not going to put everything on hold to wait for one phone call. They can leave a fucking message. I will say that the new phone is very square at the top and bottom edges (nothing like this since the iPhone four) and quite heavy. Really nice. Some people equate a new phone to a new car. It’s THAT big of a deal these days. Wow, this office and control center could be my whole world if I added a toilet. Heh. The phone transfer has become a touch more complicated than I had thought, likely due to the new device needing a software update prior to being restored from a backup. Fortunately, I have plenty of time to work with this crap today. The time is only 1311 and the process is underway. I should have plenty of space to complete the new phone by the close of business. For the time being, I have the vampires on the right-hand display keeping me company as I check the progress of everything. My cocktail is almost as yummy as the vision of the aforementioned Tammy. God damn, that girl is something to see. Whatever. She is as unreal as everything else of which I dream. What happened to the topic? A better question may be... Who cares? I can see the rest of this day not amounting to much. There are two items arriving later in support of the new phone – a case for protection and an adapter for charging – but I still have not received a shipping notification for the camera bag. No worries, though. I have plenty to keep me occupied for days. I’ll probably fold yesterday’s laundry at some point and then finish off the kitchen, too. The remaining time shall be spent right here in the office between organization and computer work. I don’t have many reasons to push harder these days. One positive is that I was able to open the garage since the wind has calmed quite a bit. The rain is coming tonight, I believe. Maybe I should turn off ‘desperation’ in favor of ‘regret’. The latter is something with which I have never come to terms, even at my age. I’ve been considering my place in society for many years, and the most recent image of myself is disjointed and gray. Ah... The software update is finally being installed. Thank the maker. Anyway, sometimes when I have quiet time without media or anything else in the background, I consider where I came from along with all that has led to my current very-isolated state. The desperation of desire is beginning to ruin me and has forced me to recall some of the more difficult periods throughout the past twenty years. Perhaps I should abandon the current series of essays to explore those actions and decisions I’ve made as a result of being so desperate rather than focusing upon the objects of my desire. All of this could be related to that huge situation from the mid-eighties of which no one is aware. Well, no one who is in close contact with me these days. There is one person who knows the whole story. I will have to come back to the topic because there is much to chew right now and I can't be effective with regard to my narrative without considering ramifications and/or consequences. I shall return to the eighties soon. 1623. My car was finally picked up this afternoon. Hopefully, I’ll have it back this week. Considering my background in automotive diagnosis and repair, I don’t imagine the problem will take long. I also finished setting up the phone. All I have to do for finalizing the transaction is to clear the old phone and return it to the store. No big deal. One of my two supporting packages arrived, but not the case. I’m chomping at the bit to protect this new phone. Patience, I guess. Everything for dinner is prepared, too. I’m hoping the evening proves relaxing. The rain is falling outside. Nice. I wasn’t expecting any until the wee hours of the morning. End of line."
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