That G78 Code Mature content No. 378 Published June 2nd, 2023 8:20am pdt read ( words) Past entries "Not happy. The time is now 1120 and I have a good portion of my Sunday business out of the way, yet inside I am wrecked. This morning will go on record as one of the worst in recent memory. Last year’s issue is resonating like hell’s bells. No wonder I am an alcoholic. Sometimes the booze will suppress or otherwise dilute the most damaging of feelings, but today I was too late with the pour. I am not happy. Sunday means I have things to do. That means I’ll be back and forth between the garage and house caring for the garbage and whatnot, and during the entire day my head will be fucked up. I already know as much due to experience. Later today, motorcycles will be arriving next door and I plan to help with the trailer and such. They are embarking on a trip part way across the country and whenever something like this develops, I tend to offer my assistance, if necessary. Whatever gathering ensues, I’ll have to cement my facade in order to appear ‘normal’. That means work, from the inside out. Not happy. Not in the least. Today is already shit. I talk to myself (out loud, no less) every fucking day. Most of it can be chalked up to addressing the cats regarding whatever I may be doing at a given time since I am alone most days. Sometimes, though, I speak of her. Yesterday was one such occasion and I found myself describing what I needed in stark detail. That type of practice was born from years of being squished and routed. Believe it. I saw her and ran with the feelings. Yes, I saw her again and lost my shit for a little while. My desire for her grows every day. It really does. The result most of the time is me speaking out loud regarding my need to repeat some past situations when I found myself precisely where I so badly needed to be. Unfortunately, my current condition does not allow for the possibility of finding such comfort in the future. I am simply too far gone these days. Wonderful. My feelings don’t matter, anyway. I don’t need any more fucking clambakes. Monday morning. Yesterday should be erased, although there was a glimmer of hope for the engine repair, and something I can actually do myself. Another neighbor from around the corner dropped off tooling for the job. Very nice. That is the only fucking positive right now. I have the flags out because of the holiday, too. I don’t plan to do much today, either. I just don’t care. Yesterday’s feelings have derailed my ambition and I’m not happy about the whole situation. One of these days... I don’t know what to do about this on/off mass of desire that develops inside me sometimes. I don’t see any way of coping with such difficulty, and the future appears as more of the same; very dark. Every day is troubling. Every fucking day. I am in the middle of the shit right now. I’ll have to do what I can in order to rise, I guess. At least I can’t recall any dreams of her for a long while. That helps. Every time I see her, every hole inside me begins to burn and I become nearly despondent (sort of like the way people often disregard whatever I am trying to say). I tend to dwell upon her appearance and certain details that cause my obsession to flare. As of yet, I have not found a way around feeling so bad. The only time I can appear ‘ok’ is when I am around others, and the difference is nothing more than one fear outweighing another. I end up half of myself, still paying attention to what is being said, but simultaneously performing complex calculations on the inside. Geometric diagrams painted on her skin as I try to understand how such feelings developed in the first place (because I still don’t fucking get it). The point is I am afraid of being the ‘strange’ one during those times so that fear pushes me to remain upright and act as if I am just fine. While alone, though, everything hits me harder because whatever I may be doing doesn’t really matter most of the time. Wonderful. I hate this fucking song. It will come around again before the episode concludes. I made it through the previous episode and it contains what is likely my LEAST favorite song of all time. That means I can wait this one out. What was I saying? Derailment is so common these days. Sometimes I fucking hate everything. God damn do I ever want her. I actually don’t feel too bad this morning despite being up a couple of hours later than usual. The meeting about the engine last night went on until after eleven and was followed by some reminiscing about drag racing and other stuff (motorsports). My old water skis entered the equation, too. Interesting. Anyway, I had been worried that this morning would be uncomfortable due to veering from my typical schedule but I seem to be fine. Still, I will not do very much today. The sun might actually make an appearance today. I haven’t really seen it since the middle of last week. 1003. My routine is finished. Cocktail time. My head is a wasteland of loss and shit. I’ll have to eat something in a little while and then transition to the garage. I’m planning to grill this afternoon and would like to get things ready early. All of the effort out there may help to suppress my feelings, along with the booze. I need to shove everything back before I explode. I’ve gone on enough tirades in the past and am tired now. I don’t want more of that shit. No one likes to hear me speak, anyway. Maybe I’ll get away from this machine sooner than I had thought. This process is boring at times and often finds me dwelling upon impossibilities... Like HER. Damn it. I need an activity to occupy my mind. Perhaps several. Ugh. I hate this shit. Last year continues to return and smack me upside the head and I am fucking sick of it. More time, though, means more problems. There is no going back. Tuesday. Each day is almost exactly like the last. Almost. Yesterday was very productive, but I paid a price. I’ll have to take it easy later today because of overexertion. I tried to recapture the enjoyment of grilling on the driveway, meaning there was lots of stuff to move and organize, along with a bit of sweeping. I also worked on the bike in and around everything else. The exhaust port repair was pretty simple, so I was able to reinstall the engine. From this point, the work will be much more enjoyable. I also caught a glimpse of her again, although she was at a distance and dressed in baggy stuff from head to toe. Heh. Whatever. The girl is beautiful regardless of clothing. I’ve already seen the evidence. Anyway, between the preparations, cooking and organization, I ended up pretty exhausted. Prior to all that shit, last year’s issue reared and caused a near-disaster. The only result from such malfunctions is anger, and feeling that way makes me even more tired. Frustration is draining. Depression is very sad. Combine the two, and... Not good. If I could go back to yesterday morning and create a different plan, I would do it immediately. Too many more malfunctions and I am going to put an end to everything. I don’t need any more reasons. The disastrous situation that continues to unfold is something which has the power to stop me on the rails for good. Too much has been removed from my life for me to easily deal with another loss. And this one is worse than most of the other problems I experience each day. No one is listening, and that means I have to keep everything inside for all the damage such a process will cause (and has already caused). My brain never stops. I can feel all of it right now and the time is only 0745. Very bad. I need ears, and soon. I need someone to tell me that everything will be ok and the final solution can be averted. I need someone to convince me that there can be happiness in the future. At least some... Please. Eh, no one is there. I don’t believe anyone will ever be there, least of all her (or one of the others I’ve mentioned here). I may have averted a crisis this morning, too, but that is not to say that I feel any better than in the past. Sometimes the will to push through the worst feelings is there and other times it is not. Today just happens to be the former. I don’t know why. The overarching situation here is one that I could not have imagined many years ago. There were visions of possibility and promise, remember? Not anymore. Is this how I am supposed to feel because of past mistakes and problems? I will say that no aspect of these mornings is very enjoyable. I may have avoided a larger issue, that’s all. Everything will return in force and destroy me soon enough. I already know. For right now, I believe I can force the issue and get through the morning still breathing like a normal person. I didn’t ask for this shit. Last year is continuing to ring as one of the worst in memory. Between the physical issues and dreams, I really don’t know how I’ve gone on living this long. Maybe there really is a glimmer of hope that I can eventually find what I need. I can’t be certain, though. 0852. I have been thinking about camping and the running joke of the G78 code that was in use at my work years ago. Whenever there was something outside the scope of normal duties, such as a luncheon or the like, we were instructed to use that code on the electronic timesheet. I believe it indicated that our facilities were not operating but the crew was still involved in an activity mandated by the government. Well, whenever we ran into an issue with planning one of the trips (via an email conversation prior to a weekend), one of my friends always joked that everything would work out fine as long as we referenced G78. Those were fun times. The reason for the title is that I need something to happen outside the scope of my daily life, and as of yet everything for which I yearn seems to be fantasy, not reality. I don’t know if this shit is funny or not. Last cup of coffee for the morning. I wish I could see the outcome of this day before it plays out. At least I’d know whether or not to anticipate all sorts of problems. And yes, the word is ‘problems’, not ‘challenges’. Society tries to make negatives sound less negative. Ridiculous. I will attempt to refrain from yet another societal tirade. No one wants to hear it. A very young Stefani Germanotta is in this episode, nearly uncredited. We had no idea that she would later become one of the most prominent figures in modern society, not to mention an incredible and very talented entertainer. I have tons of respect for what she has accomplished. G78. That was a great and terrible period because mental and emotional problems were developing inside me and I chose to keep everything to myself. That practiced birthed odd situations that found me expressing myself like a fucking idiot teenager at times. I had to rein myself in more than once just to keep others from asking questions. The nature of my work environment was unique and fit me to a tee, mostly. There had been difficulties here and there, but I always felt that the positives offset everything else. When I say unique, I mean the atmosphere and pace of our facilities fit my personality very well. Unfortunately, I tossed all that away in order to seek relief from the ever-growing issues in my head. A great situation was completely destroyed, leaving me in one of the worst circumstances of my life. By the latter half of the year of ten, the G78 code began to fade. Soon after, it was no longer available to me. I need to get the fuck out of this office very soon. 1022 is what I see on the little clocks. I took care of half of the routine, the other half waiting until I can make more noise. The house must remain quiet right now. Once I finish the kitchen, I’ll probably head to the garage for bike work and organization. Last weekend I made a head start on throwing stuff away. The effort will continue today. For the time being, however, I will just sit here with my drink and wallow. The disastrous pattern continues, complete with malfunctioning brain cells. I don’t know what can be done about this crap, but I’ll tell you there is a finite amount of time in which I am willing to continue. Finite. I can’t G78 my way out of this shit. There has got to be SOMETHING else I can do. Billions of people are living in much worse conditions and have been relegated by forces against which they have no voice. I have to keep in mind that the house and being here every day is a huge positive. Sometimes I lose track and can’t see it. Malfunction. Disastrous processes. All very bad. I hate everything right now. I am finding the effort in caring about stuff to be overwhelming. Maybe I will fail and watch my remaining concern fall away like so many dreams. All of the dreams. 1208. Does time matter anymore? I am sitting here again after the second half of the routine, and I still don’t know if I want to work in the garage. There is plenty to do, honestly. Not only do I have the FXR project on the lift, but since the entire club has left for Kansas City, I also have another FXR in the garage that belongs to a different neighbor. Heh. It is in need of tree and handlebar realignment after falling over yesterday. I told him to park the machine at my place and it will be repaired prior to their return. The work is not a big deal at all, and the fact that I can move the bike out of the way is very helpful. I don’t mind helping. One of the remaining enjoyments in this life is using my vast array of hand tools which I have built up since moving here almost eleven years ago. Does she understand? Wednesday morning has arrived. I don’t know what to think about the damage yesterday morning and my subsequent bullshit pissy mood. Force and disillusionment pretty much define the mood, although in there somewhere was also unrequited desire and dreaming. The whole affair needs to be pushed away. I can’t deal with it anymore today. Coffee. 1020. Cocktail hour, part one. I have a huge glass of whiskey here on the table and the gangsters playing on my right-hand display. I just ordered some short lengths of stainless and aluminum tubing for the truck. The other night, my neighbor wanted me to show it off to someone who had not seen it, the result being my intention to finalize the steering setup. I’ll get around to it when the bike is finished and out of here. In the meantime, I can experiment with threading the outer diameters to see how well they will work as adjustment points for the wire ropes. I’ve had this idea for a long time but didn’t do anything about it. I’ve been distracted from the project for months. I also have half of my daily routine out of the way. I could use a timesheet code right about now. Thursday morning. I went on a very calm tirade last night regarding books, film, and a few other things. I spoke about theatres and the feeling of walking into an auditorium. I feel very down this morning, too. The most likely cause was the conversation last night, although it was nothing bad. Just memories flooding me for whatever reason. We worked on the bike more yesterday and then switched the two. At some point during the next couple of days, I’ll have to rework the handlebars and risers, and then maybe I’ll pull the tail light for replacement. I don’t know how I will feel later, though. I just don’t know. I am losing out on time. It is flying along with nary a care for the individual, and rightly so. We are supposed to make things happen rather than just sitting and waiting for something to darken the doorsteps. Time pays no mind, and I am losing. Lost. Loss. All of it. I don’t see another method for living life right now, damn it. I don’t know what the fuck to do. This point each morning is when I take a break in the garage for a smoke, and then I return for the last cup of coffee, if I feel like it. After? The routine, I suppose. I feel so beaten down by everything that making some sort of change would require a miracle, and I think you already know how I feel about all that hocus pocus bullshit. I’m in a bad spot here. Very bad. The clock keeps spinning and each day feels a bit shorter than the last. That means if I am going to alter some aspect of my life for improvement, such action has to take place soon. Right now? I really couldn’t give a shit about change. I don’t know which direction to turn, nor do I have a clue as to what I should be doing, and the sum forces me to sit here and accomplish little more than thinking. 0913. Last cup of coffee. The sun is shining for a change. When my coffee is gone, I’ll probably get away from this wallowing and do some housework. After that, I have no idea. Maybe further organization in the office and garage. I don’t know. Wow... I need some fucking help. Unbelievable, this situation. Damn. At least I have the time and space to think. Feeling this lost in the world requires at least some physical comfort. I should be thankful to live in this house right now. 1516. Out of gas. Does she understand? Friday. Coffee. My friends on the right-hand display. What else is there? I created someone who understands everything. I made her out of thin air because reality was not enough (IS not enough). Now I envision her every day and the only plus is keeping all of the information to myself. Everything else hurts me. I wish life did not have to be this way because I am so sad and angry that even the little enjoyments that have been holding me up are waning. This is not good. Does the understanding even exist at all? Or have I been searching for yet another fantasy soul? Probably. Nothing good is going to happen. Nothing. Maybe I’ll sit right here all day and work on the top menu. What else is there? Anything? I’ll be disappointed no matter the outcome of the day, so perhaps my efforts have been for naught. Splendid. Does she understand that the code was only temporary? I can’t use it anymore, nor can I exercise my resources to seek comfort. I can’t do much of anything these days. If there was ever a time when I needed the G78 to remove difficulty, this is it. I haven’t seen the other one for some days. I caught a quick glance, but nothing more. There is never a guarantee that I’ll see her for several reasons. I can only hope. And I found that I miss her. She doesn’t understand, either, but at least I can dream that she does. This condition is going to worsen sometime during the next two months as I transition from the fifth show back to the first, and then on to the third (yes, they are playing out of order because I goofed up the whole thing last year). The third show is the one that forces me to dream of wonderful things more than the others. The atmosphere within the program conjures imagery of me actually being there and watching all of my problems melt away. The understanding would be available, as well. Everything... Repaired. Comfort. Happiness. Everything. Oh, and the other one would be there with me. Don’t ask. This is the way my psyche has developed as a result of too much routing and squishing for too many years. Between the possibilities and the other one being there, such an atmosphere would fix everything very quickly. No more of this. I need to see her, and soon. She helps me remember the past. There’s that girl again... The one with Del. Jesus fuck does she ever have a unique face. No matter how many times I see this episode, the sight of her catches me off-guard when she appears. Wow. You wanna talk about a genetic fluke? Holy crap. I would have loved to see her face up close back then. Fucking stunning. For days and days I have sat here every fucking morning and thinking that something has to change, or that I am in dire need ot moving outside the norm and branching in some other direction, yet still I remain exactly the same with the feeling inside that I can’t really do anything different. This is not good by any stretch of the word. For whatever reason, the morning finds me typically positive with regard to the house and related projects, whereas on the inside I am usually yearning for comfort and understanding. Every fucking day. At some point I feel that the only way to keep going in life is to make a change, yet I don’t know what to do. Still. Maybe I’ve been squished for too long without my precious G78 to use as a saving throw. I’ve missed that code for so long that I can’t recall half of the conversations related to its advantages. This is crap. The code can’t help me change my behavior because that was not its purpose. The main benefit was the ability to circumvent procedures and reap the rewards. None of that exists anymore or I’d be flexing the G78 every fucking day in order to help myself change this damned situation. Most of the time I just don’t care enough to make a move. Or maybe in the past I realized that I will not find happiness anyway, so there is little reason for such effort. I can’t predict the future, either. Something may come along and save me. In the meantime, I will do what I know. Oh God, that occasion. THAT one. Not the first, but afterward. I don’t remember the interval, but I will say nothing in the past pulled at me as strongly. Right there. And she knew how I felt. Everything went to shit very quickly, though. Said shit has not stopped since then. G78. Does she understand? No one knows of her. No one. Only me. That is why I occasionally ask if you believe she is real. The world may never know for sure. She is real to me. No red eyes this time. No red eyes. I am sick and tired of feeling this way and there is nothing I can do about it. That is why I become angry. A lack of understanding ears and being routed have ruined everything, most likely yielding a future fraught with more of the same, if not worse. Isn’t that peachy? Another little waddling vision went by my window a few minutes ago and caused me to see the damage from those dreams last year even more clearly. I was reminded of the festival, too. I believe my brain went in such a direction due to the way I felt about fear many years ago, and my behavior followed suit almost immediately in order to protect myself. For a while, my new method worked, although years later it faded away out of necessity. The damaging dreams that changed the way I see the world came along due to the same reasons I had so many years ago. I understand some of it. There is both good and bad attached to this line of thinking, the latter being the main reason I can’t discuss the topic with other people. I would have to implicitly trust the ears. That’s just not going to happen anymore. The result of being reminded of the way I think and all of the voids and alterations throughout the last eight years is a lack of direction, ambition, and every other positive term in my head. I don’t like feeling so bad all the time. I’m sure no one likes to feel bad. When I dream of what I so badly need in life, moments pass and I fall on my face with the realization that there is nothing about the future that resembles the word bright. No recourse means frustration, and then anger is born of zero options in life. This will come to a head. And yes, I realize I’ve been saying those words for years, but keep in mind some aspects of life cannot be rushed because they represent permanent change. Permanent. I hate all this shit. Does she understand? Can she help? I need to G78 myself right off this fucking planet." 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
That G78 Code Mature content No. 378 Published June 2nd, 2023 8:20am pdt read ( words) Past entries "Not happy. The time is now 1120 and I have a good portion of my Sunday business out of the way, yet inside I am wrecked. This morning will go on record as one of the worst in recent memory. Last year’s issue is resonating like hell’s bells. No wonder I am an alcoholic. Sometimes the booze will suppress or otherwise dilute the most damaging of feelings, but today I was too late with the pour. I am not happy. Sunday means I have things to do. That means I’ll be back and forth between the garage and house caring for the garbage and whatnot, and during the entire day my head will be fucked up. I already know as much due to experience. Later today, motorcycles will be arriving next door and I plan to help with the trailer and such. They are embarking on a trip part way across the country and whenever something like this develops, I tend to offer my assistance, if necessary. Whatever gathering ensues, I’ll have to cement my facade in order to appear ‘normal’. That means work, from the inside out. Not happy. Not in the least. Today is already shit. I talk to myself (out loud, no less) every fucking day. Most of it can be chalked up to addressing the cats regarding whatever I may be doing at a given time since I am alone most days. Sometimes, though, I speak of her. Yesterday was one such occasion and I found myself describing what I needed in stark detail. That type of practice was born from years of being squished and routed. Believe it. I saw her and ran with the feelings. Yes, I saw her again and lost my shit for a little while. My desire for her grows every day. It really does. The result most of the time is me speaking out loud regarding my need to repeat some past situations when I found myself precisely where I so badly needed to be. Unfortunately, my current condition does not allow for the possibility of finding such comfort in the future. I am simply too far gone these days. Wonderful. My feelings don’t matter, anyway. I don’t need any more fucking clambakes. Monday morning. Yesterday should be erased, although there was a glimmer of hope for the engine repair, and something I can actually do myself. Another neighbor from around the corner dropped off tooling for the job. Very nice. That is the only fucking positive right now. I have the flags out because of the holiday, too. I don’t plan to do much today, either. I just don’t care. Yesterday’s feelings have derailed my ambition and I’m not happy about the whole situation. One of these days... I don’t know what to do about this on/off mass of desire that develops inside me sometimes. I don’t see any way of coping with such difficulty, and the future appears as more of the same; very dark. Every day is troubling. Every fucking day. I am in the middle of the shit right now. I’ll have to do what I can in order to rise, I guess. At least I can’t recall any dreams of her for a long while. That helps. Every time I see her, every hole inside me begins to burn and I become nearly despondent (sort of like the way people often disregard whatever I am trying to say). I tend to dwell upon her appearance and certain details that cause my obsession to flare. As of yet, I have not found a way around feeling so bad. The only time I can appear ‘ok’ is when I am around others, and the difference is nothing more than one fear outweighing another. I end up half of myself, still paying attention to what is being said, but simultaneously performing complex calculations on the inside. Geometric diagrams painted on her skin as I try to understand how such feelings developed in the first place (because I still don’t fucking get it). The point is I am afraid of being the ‘strange’ one during those times so that fear pushes me to remain upright and act as if I am just fine. While alone, though, everything hits me harder because whatever I may be doing doesn’t really matter most of the time. Wonderful. I hate this fucking song. It will come around again before the episode concludes. I made it through the previous episode and it contains what is likely my LEAST favorite song of all time. That means I can wait this one out. What was I saying? Derailment is so common these days. Sometimes I fucking hate everything. God damn do I ever want her. I actually don’t feel too bad this morning despite being up a couple of hours later than usual. The meeting about the engine last night went on until after eleven and was followed by some reminiscing about drag racing and other stuff (motorsports). My old water skis entered the equation, too. Interesting. Anyway, I had been worried that this morning would be uncomfortable due to veering from my typical schedule but I seem to be fine. Still, I will not do very much today. The sun might actually make an appearance today. I haven’t really seen it since the middle of last week. 1003. My routine is finished. Cocktail time. My head is a wasteland of loss and shit. I’ll have to eat something in a little while and then transition to the garage. I’m planning to grill this afternoon and would like to get things ready early. All of the effort out there may help to suppress my feelings, along with the booze. I need to shove everything back before I explode. I’ve gone on enough tirades in the past and am tired now. I don’t want more of that shit. No one likes to hear me speak, anyway. Maybe I’ll get away from this machine sooner than I had thought. This process is boring at times and often finds me dwelling upon impossibilities... Like HER. Damn it. I need an activity to occupy my mind. Perhaps several. Ugh. I hate this shit. Last year continues to return and smack me upside the head and I am fucking sick of it. More time, though, means more problems. There is no going back. Tuesday. Each day is almost exactly like the last. Almost. Yesterday was very productive, but I paid a price. I’ll have to take it easy later today because of overexertion. I tried to recapture the enjoyment of grilling on the driveway, meaning there was lots of stuff to move and organize, along with a bit of sweeping. I also worked on the bike in and around everything else. The exhaust port repair was pretty simple, so I was able to reinstall the engine. From this point, the work will be much more enjoyable. I also caught a glimpse of her again, although she was at a distance and dressed in baggy stuff from head to toe. Heh. Whatever. The girl is beautiful regardless of clothing. I’ve already seen the evidence. Anyway, between the preparations, cooking and organization, I ended up pretty exhausted. Prior to all that shit, last year’s issue reared and caused a near-disaster. The only result from such malfunctions is anger, and feeling that way makes me even more tired. Frustration is draining. Depression is very sad. Combine the two, and... Not good. If I could go back to yesterday morning and create a different plan, I would do it immediately. Too many more malfunctions and I am going to put an end to everything. I don’t need any more reasons. The disastrous situation that continues to unfold is something which has the power to stop me on the rails for good. Too much has been removed from my life for me to easily deal with another loss. And this one is worse than most of the other problems I experience each day. No one is listening, and that means I have to keep everything inside for all the damage such a process will cause (and has already caused). My brain never stops. I can feel all of it right now and the time is only 0745. Very bad. I need ears, and soon. I need someone to tell me that everything will be ok and the final solution can be averted. I need someone to convince me that there can be happiness in the future. At least some... Please. Eh, no one is there. I don’t believe anyone will ever be there, least of all her (or one of the others I’ve mentioned here). I may have averted a crisis this morning, too, but that is not to say that I feel any better than in the past. Sometimes the will to push through the worst feelings is there and other times it is not. Today just happens to be the former. I don’t know why. The overarching situation here is one that I could not have imagined many years ago. There were visions of possibility and promise, remember? Not anymore. Is this how I am supposed to feel because of past mistakes and problems? I will say that no aspect of these mornings is very enjoyable. I may have avoided a larger issue, that’s all. Everything will return in force and destroy me soon enough. I already know. For right now, I believe I can force the issue and get through the morning still breathing like a normal person. I didn’t ask for this shit. Last year is continuing to ring as one of the worst in memory. Between the physical issues and dreams, I really don’t know how I’ve gone on living this long. Maybe there really is a glimmer of hope that I can eventually find what I need. I can’t be certain, though. 0852. I have been thinking about camping and the running joke of the G78 code that was in use at my work years ago. Whenever there was something outside the scope of normal duties, such as a luncheon or the like, we were instructed to use that code on the electronic timesheet. I believe it indicated that our facilities were not operating but the crew was still involved in an activity mandated by the government. Well, whenever we ran into an issue with planning one of the trips (via an email conversation prior to a weekend), one of my friends always joked that everything would work out fine as long as we referenced G78. Those were fun times. The reason for the title is that I need something to happen outside the scope of my daily life, and as of yet everything for which I yearn seems to be fantasy, not reality. I don’t know if this shit is funny or not. Last cup of coffee for the morning. I wish I could see the outcome of this day before it plays out. At least I’d know whether or not to anticipate all sorts of problems. And yes, the word is ‘problems’, not ‘challenges’. Society tries to make negatives sound less negative. Ridiculous. I will attempt to refrain from yet another societal tirade. No one wants to hear it. A very young Stefani Germanotta is in this episode, nearly uncredited. We had no idea that she would later become one of the most prominent figures in modern society, not to mention an incredible and very talented entertainer. I have tons of respect for what she has accomplished. G78. That was a great and terrible period because mental and emotional problems were developing inside me and I chose to keep everything to myself. That practiced birthed odd situations that found me expressing myself like a fucking idiot teenager at times. I had to rein myself in more than once just to keep others from asking questions. The nature of my work environment was unique and fit me to a tee, mostly. There had been difficulties here and there, but I always felt that the positives offset everything else. When I say unique, I mean the atmosphere and pace of our facilities fit my personality very well. Unfortunately, I tossed all that away in order to seek relief from the ever-growing issues in my head. A great situation was completely destroyed, leaving me in one of the worst circumstances of my life. By the latter half of the year of ten, the G78 code began to fade. Soon after, it was no longer available to me. I need to get the fuck out of this office very soon. 1022 is what I see on the little clocks. I took care of half of the routine, the other half waiting until I can make more noise. The house must remain quiet right now. Once I finish the kitchen, I’ll probably head to the garage for bike work and organization. Last weekend I made a head start on throwing stuff away. The effort will continue today. For the time being, however, I will just sit here with my drink and wallow. The disastrous pattern continues, complete with malfunctioning brain cells. I don’t know what can be done about this crap, but I’ll tell you there is a finite amount of time in which I am willing to continue. Finite. I can’t G78 my way out of this shit. There has got to be SOMETHING else I can do. Billions of people are living in much worse conditions and have been relegated by forces against which they have no voice. I have to keep in mind that the house and being here every day is a huge positive. Sometimes I lose track and can’t see it. Malfunction. Disastrous processes. All very bad. I hate everything right now. I am finding the effort in caring about stuff to be overwhelming. Maybe I will fail and watch my remaining concern fall away like so many dreams. All of the dreams. 1208. Does time matter anymore? I am sitting here again after the second half of the routine, and I still don’t know if I want to work in the garage. There is plenty to do, honestly. Not only do I have the FXR project on the lift, but since the entire club has left for Kansas City, I also have another FXR in the garage that belongs to a different neighbor. Heh. It is in need of tree and handlebar realignment after falling over yesterday. I told him to park the machine at my place and it will be repaired prior to their return. The work is not a big deal at all, and the fact that I can move the bike out of the way is very helpful. I don’t mind helping. One of the remaining enjoyments in this life is using my vast array of hand tools which I have built up since moving here almost eleven years ago. Does she understand? Wednesday morning has arrived. I don’t know what to think about the damage yesterday morning and my subsequent bullshit pissy mood. Force and disillusionment pretty much define the mood, although in there somewhere was also unrequited desire and dreaming. The whole affair needs to be pushed away. I can’t deal with it anymore today. Coffee. 1020. Cocktail hour, part one. I have a huge glass of whiskey here on the table and the gangsters playing on my right-hand display. I just ordered some short lengths of stainless and aluminum tubing for the truck. The other night, my neighbor wanted me to show it off to someone who had not seen it, the result being my intention to finalize the steering setup. I’ll get around to it when the bike is finished and out of here. In the meantime, I can experiment with threading the outer diameters to see how well they will work as adjustment points for the wire ropes. I’ve had this idea for a long time but didn’t do anything about it. I’ve been distracted from the project for months. I also have half of my daily routine out of the way. I could use a timesheet code right about now. Thursday morning. I went on a very calm tirade last night regarding books, film, and a few other things. I spoke about theatres and the feeling of walking into an auditorium. I feel very down this morning, too. The most likely cause was the conversation last night, although it was nothing bad. Just memories flooding me for whatever reason. We worked on the bike more yesterday and then switched the two. At some point during the next couple of days, I’ll have to rework the handlebars and risers, and then maybe I’ll pull the tail light for replacement. I don’t know how I will feel later, though. I just don’t know. I am losing out on time. It is flying along with nary a care for the individual, and rightly so. We are supposed to make things happen rather than just sitting and waiting for something to darken the doorsteps. Time pays no mind, and I am losing. Lost. Loss. All of it. I don’t see another method for living life right now, damn it. I don’t know what the fuck to do. This point each morning is when I take a break in the garage for a smoke, and then I return for the last cup of coffee, if I feel like it. After? The routine, I suppose. I feel so beaten down by everything that making some sort of change would require a miracle, and I think you already know how I feel about all that hocus pocus bullshit. I’m in a bad spot here. Very bad. The clock keeps spinning and each day feels a bit shorter than the last. That means if I am going to alter some aspect of my life for improvement, such action has to take place soon. Right now? I really couldn’t give a shit about change. I don’t know which direction to turn, nor do I have a clue as to what I should be doing, and the sum forces me to sit here and accomplish little more than thinking. 0913. Last cup of coffee. The sun is shining for a change. When my coffee is gone, I’ll probably get away from this wallowing and do some housework. After that, I have no idea. Maybe further organization in the office and garage. I don’t know. Wow... I need some fucking help. Unbelievable, this situation. Damn. At least I have the time and space to think. Feeling this lost in the world requires at least some physical comfort. I should be thankful to live in this house right now. 1516. Out of gas. Does she understand? Friday. Coffee. My friends on the right-hand display. What else is there? I created someone who understands everything. I made her out of thin air because reality was not enough (IS not enough). Now I envision her every day and the only plus is keeping all of the information to myself. Everything else hurts me. I wish life did not have to be this way because I am so sad and angry that even the little enjoyments that have been holding me up are waning. This is not good. Does the understanding even exist at all? Or have I been searching for yet another fantasy soul? Probably. Nothing good is going to happen. Nothing. Maybe I’ll sit right here all day and work on the top menu. What else is there? Anything? I’ll be disappointed no matter the outcome of the day, so perhaps my efforts have been for naught. Splendid. Does she understand that the code was only temporary? I can’t use it anymore, nor can I exercise my resources to seek comfort. I can’t do much of anything these days. If there was ever a time when I needed the G78 to remove difficulty, this is it. I haven’t seen the other one for some days. I caught a quick glance, but nothing more. There is never a guarantee that I’ll see her for several reasons. I can only hope. And I found that I miss her. She doesn’t understand, either, but at least I can dream that she does. This condition is going to worsen sometime during the next two months as I transition from the fifth show back to the first, and then on to the third (yes, they are playing out of order because I goofed up the whole thing last year). The third show is the one that forces me to dream of wonderful things more than the others. The atmosphere within the program conjures imagery of me actually being there and watching all of my problems melt away. The understanding would be available, as well. Everything... Repaired. Comfort. Happiness. Everything. Oh, and the other one would be there with me. Don’t ask. This is the way my psyche has developed as a result of too much routing and squishing for too many years. Between the possibilities and the other one being there, such an atmosphere would fix everything very quickly. No more of this. I need to see her, and soon. She helps me remember the past. There’s that girl again... The one with Del. Jesus fuck does she ever have a unique face. No matter how many times I see this episode, the sight of her catches me off-guard when she appears. Wow. You wanna talk about a genetic fluke? Holy crap. I would have loved to see her face up close back then. Fucking stunning. For days and days I have sat here every fucking morning and thinking that something has to change, or that I am in dire need ot moving outside the norm and branching in some other direction, yet still I remain exactly the same with the feeling inside that I can’t really do anything different. This is not good by any stretch of the word. For whatever reason, the morning finds me typically positive with regard to the house and related projects, whereas on the inside I am usually yearning for comfort and understanding. Every fucking day. At some point I feel that the only way to keep going in life is to make a change, yet I don’t know what to do. Still. Maybe I’ve been squished for too long without my precious G78 to use as a saving throw. I’ve missed that code for so long that I can’t recall half of the conversations related to its advantages. This is crap. The code can’t help me change my behavior because that was not its purpose. The main benefit was the ability to circumvent procedures and reap the rewards. None of that exists anymore or I’d be flexing the G78 every fucking day in order to help myself change this damned situation. Most of the time I just don’t care enough to make a move. Or maybe in the past I realized that I will not find happiness anyway, so there is little reason for such effort. I can’t predict the future, either. Something may come along and save me. In the meantime, I will do what I know. Oh God, that occasion. THAT one. Not the first, but afterward. I don’t remember the interval, but I will say nothing in the past pulled at me as strongly. Right there. And she knew how I felt. Everything went to shit very quickly, though. Said shit has not stopped since then. G78. Does she understand? No one knows of her. No one. Only me. That is why I occasionally ask if you believe she is real. The world may never know for sure. She is real to me. No red eyes this time. No red eyes. I am sick and tired of feeling this way and there is nothing I can do about it. That is why I become angry. A lack of understanding ears and being routed have ruined everything, most likely yielding a future fraught with more of the same, if not worse. Isn’t that peachy? Another little waddling vision went by my window a few minutes ago and caused me to see the damage from those dreams last year even more clearly. I was reminded of the festival, too. I believe my brain went in such a direction due to the way I felt about fear many years ago, and my behavior followed suit almost immediately in order to protect myself. For a while, my new method worked, although years later it faded away out of necessity. The damaging dreams that changed the way I see the world came along due to the same reasons I had so many years ago. I understand some of it. There is both good and bad attached to this line of thinking, the latter being the main reason I can’t discuss the topic with other people. I would have to implicitly trust the ears. That’s just not going to happen anymore. The result of being reminded of the way I think and all of the voids and alterations throughout the last eight years is a lack of direction, ambition, and every other positive term in my head. I don’t like feeling so bad all the time. I’m sure no one likes to feel bad. When I dream of what I so badly need in life, moments pass and I fall on my face with the realization that there is nothing about the future that resembles the word bright. No recourse means frustration, and then anger is born of zero options in life. This will come to a head. And yes, I realize I’ve been saying those words for years, but keep in mind some aspects of life cannot be rushed because they represent permanent change. Permanent. I hate all this shit. Does she understand? Can she help? I need to G78 myself right off this fucking planet."
That G78 Code
Mature content No. 378 Published June 2nd, 2023 8:20am pdt read ( words) Past entries
"Not happy. The time is now 1120 and I have a good portion of my Sunday business out of the way, yet inside I am wrecked. This morning will go on record as one of the worst in recent memory. Last year’s issue is resonating like hell’s bells. No wonder I am an alcoholic. Sometimes the booze will suppress or otherwise dilute the most damaging of feelings, but today I was too late with the pour. I am not happy. Sunday means I have things to do. That means I’ll be back and forth between the garage and house caring for the garbage and whatnot, and during the entire day my head will be fucked up. I already know as much due to experience. Later today, motorcycles will be arriving next door and I plan to help with the trailer and such. They are embarking on a trip part way across the country and whenever something like this develops, I tend to offer my assistance, if necessary. Whatever gathering ensues, I’ll have to cement my facade in order to appear ‘normal’. That means work, from the inside out. Not happy. Not in the least. Today is already shit. I talk to myself (out loud, no less) every fucking day. Most of it can be chalked up to addressing the cats regarding whatever I may be doing at a given time since I am alone most days. Sometimes, though, I speak of her. Yesterday was one such occasion and I found myself describing what I needed in stark detail. That type of practice was born from years of being squished and routed. Believe it. I saw her and ran with the feelings. Yes, I saw her again and lost my shit for a little while. My desire for her grows every day. It really does. The result most of the time is me speaking out loud regarding my need to repeat some past situations when I found myself precisely where I so badly needed to be. Unfortunately, my current condition does not allow for the possibility of finding such comfort in the future. I am simply too far gone these days. Wonderful. My feelings don’t matter, anyway. I don’t need any more fucking clambakes. Monday morning. Yesterday should be erased, although there was a glimmer of hope for the engine repair, and something I can actually do myself. Another neighbor from around the corner dropped off tooling for the job. Very nice. That is the only fucking positive right now. I have the flags out because of the holiday, too. I don’t plan to do much today, either. I just don’t care. Yesterday’s feelings have derailed my ambition and I’m not happy about the whole situation. One of these days... I don’t know what to do about this on/off mass of desire that develops inside me sometimes. I don’t see any way of coping with such difficulty, and the future appears as more of the same; very dark. Every day is troubling. Every fucking day. I am in the middle of the shit right now. I’ll have to do what I can in order to rise, I guess. At least I can’t recall any dreams of her for a long while. That helps. Every time I see her, every hole inside me begins to burn and I become nearly despondent (sort of like the way people often disregard whatever I am trying to say). I tend to dwell upon her appearance and certain details that cause my obsession to flare. As of yet, I have not found a way around feeling so bad. The only time I can appear ‘ok’ is when I am around others, and the difference is nothing more than one fear outweighing another. I end up half of myself, still paying attention to what is being said, but simultaneously performing complex calculations on the inside. Geometric diagrams painted on her skin as I try to understand how such feelings developed in the first place (because I still don’t fucking get it). The point is I am afraid of being the ‘strange’ one during those times so that fear pushes me to remain upright and act as if I am just fine. While alone, though, everything hits me harder because whatever I may be doing doesn’t really matter most of the time. Wonderful. I hate this fucking song. It will come around again before the episode concludes. I made it through the previous episode and it contains what is likely my LEAST favorite song of all time. That means I can wait this one out. What was I saying? Derailment is so common these days. Sometimes I fucking hate everything. God damn do I ever want her. I actually don’t feel too bad this morning despite being up a couple of hours later than usual. The meeting about the engine last night went on until after eleven and was followed by some reminiscing about drag racing and other stuff (motorsports). My old water skis entered the equation, too. Interesting. Anyway, I had been worried that this morning would be uncomfortable due to veering from my typical schedule but I seem to be fine. Still, I will not do very much today. The sun might actually make an appearance today. I haven’t really seen it since the middle of last week. 1003. My routine is finished. Cocktail time. My head is a wasteland of loss and shit. I’ll have to eat something in a little while and then transition to the garage. I’m planning to grill this afternoon and would like to get things ready early. All of the effort out there may help to suppress my feelings, along with the booze. I need to shove everything back before I explode. I’ve gone on enough tirades in the past and am tired now. I don’t want more of that shit. No one likes to hear me speak, anyway. Maybe I’ll get away from this machine sooner than I had thought. This process is boring at times and often finds me dwelling upon impossibilities... Like HER. Damn it. I need an activity to occupy my mind. Perhaps several. Ugh. I hate this shit. Last year continues to return and smack me upside the head and I am fucking sick of it. More time, though, means more problems. There is no going back. Tuesday. Each day is almost exactly like the last. Almost. Yesterday was very productive, but I paid a price. I’ll have to take it easy later today because of overexertion. I tried to recapture the enjoyment of grilling on the driveway, meaning there was lots of stuff to move and organize, along with a bit of sweeping. I also worked on the bike in and around everything else. The exhaust port repair was pretty simple, so I was able to reinstall the engine. From this point, the work will be much more enjoyable. I also caught a glimpse of her again, although she was at a distance and dressed in baggy stuff from head to toe. Heh. Whatever. The girl is beautiful regardless of clothing. I’ve already seen the evidence. Anyway, between the preparations, cooking and organization, I ended up pretty exhausted. Prior to all that shit, last year’s issue reared and caused a near-disaster. The only result from such malfunctions is anger, and feeling that way makes me even more tired. Frustration is draining. Depression is very sad. Combine the two, and... Not good. If I could go back to yesterday morning and create a different plan, I would do it immediately. Too many more malfunctions and I am going to put an end to everything. I don’t need any more reasons. The disastrous situation that continues to unfold is something which has the power to stop me on the rails for good. Too much has been removed from my life for me to easily deal with another loss. And this one is worse than most of the other problems I experience each day. No one is listening, and that means I have to keep everything inside for all the damage such a process will cause (and has already caused). My brain never stops. I can feel all of it right now and the time is only 0745. Very bad. I need ears, and soon. I need someone to tell me that everything will be ok and the final solution can be averted. I need someone to convince me that there can be happiness in the future. At least some... Please. Eh, no one is there. I don’t believe anyone will ever be there, least of all her (or one of the others I’ve mentioned here). I may have averted a crisis this morning, too, but that is not to say that I feel any better than in the past. Sometimes the will to push through the worst feelings is there and other times it is not. Today just happens to be the former. I don’t know why. The overarching situation here is one that I could not have imagined many years ago. There were visions of possibility and promise, remember? Not anymore. Is this how I am supposed to feel because of past mistakes and problems? I will say that no aspect of these mornings is very enjoyable. I may have avoided a larger issue, that’s all. Everything will return in force and destroy me soon enough. I already know. For right now, I believe I can force the issue and get through the morning still breathing like a normal person. I didn’t ask for this shit. Last year is continuing to ring as one of the worst in memory. Between the physical issues and dreams, I really don’t know how I’ve gone on living this long. Maybe there really is a glimmer of hope that I can eventually find what I need. I can’t be certain, though. 0852. I have been thinking about camping and the running joke of the G78 code that was in use at my work years ago. Whenever there was something outside the scope of normal duties, such as a luncheon or the like, we were instructed to use that code on the electronic timesheet. I believe it indicated that our facilities were not operating but the crew was still involved in an activity mandated by the government. Well, whenever we ran into an issue with planning one of the trips (via an email conversation prior to a weekend), one of my friends always joked that everything would work out fine as long as we referenced G78. Those were fun times. The reason for the title is that I need something to happen outside the scope of my daily life, and as of yet everything for which I yearn seems to be fantasy, not reality. I don’t know if this shit is funny or not. Last cup of coffee for the morning. I wish I could see the outcome of this day before it plays out. At least I’d know whether or not to anticipate all sorts of problems. And yes, the word is ‘problems’, not ‘challenges’. Society tries to make negatives sound less negative. Ridiculous. I will attempt to refrain from yet another societal tirade. No one wants to hear it. A very young Stefani Germanotta is in this episode, nearly uncredited. We had no idea that she would later become one of the most prominent figures in modern society, not to mention an incredible and very talented entertainer. I have tons of respect for what she has accomplished. G78. That was a great and terrible period because mental and emotional problems were developing inside me and I chose to keep everything to myself. That practiced birthed odd situations that found me expressing myself like a fucking idiot teenager at times. I had to rein myself in more than once just to keep others from asking questions. The nature of my work environment was unique and fit me to a tee, mostly. There had been difficulties here and there, but I always felt that the positives offset everything else. When I say unique, I mean the atmosphere and pace of our facilities fit my personality very well. Unfortunately, I tossed all that away in order to seek relief from the ever-growing issues in my head. A great situation was completely destroyed, leaving me in one of the worst circumstances of my life. By the latter half of the year of ten, the G78 code began to fade. Soon after, it was no longer available to me. I need to get the fuck out of this office very soon. 1022 is what I see on the little clocks. I took care of half of the routine, the other half waiting until I can make more noise. The house must remain quiet right now. Once I finish the kitchen, I’ll probably head to the garage for bike work and organization. Last weekend I made a head start on throwing stuff away. The effort will continue today. For the time being, however, I will just sit here with my drink and wallow. The disastrous pattern continues, complete with malfunctioning brain cells. I don’t know what can be done about this crap, but I’ll tell you there is a finite amount of time in which I am willing to continue. Finite. I can’t G78 my way out of this shit. There has got to be SOMETHING else I can do. Billions of people are living in much worse conditions and have been relegated by forces against which they have no voice. I have to keep in mind that the house and being here every day is a huge positive. Sometimes I lose track and can’t see it. Malfunction. Disastrous processes. All very bad. I hate everything right now. I am finding the effort in caring about stuff to be overwhelming. Maybe I will fail and watch my remaining concern fall away like so many dreams. All of the dreams. 1208. Does time matter anymore? I am sitting here again after the second half of the routine, and I still don’t know if I want to work in the garage. There is plenty to do, honestly. Not only do I have the FXR project on the lift, but since the entire club has left for Kansas City, I also have another FXR in the garage that belongs to a different neighbor. Heh. It is in need of tree and handlebar realignment after falling over yesterday. I told him to park the machine at my place and it will be repaired prior to their return. The work is not a big deal at all, and the fact that I can move the bike out of the way is very helpful. I don’t mind helping. One of the remaining enjoyments in this life is using my vast array of hand tools which I have built up since moving here almost eleven years ago.
Does she understand?
Wednesday morning has arrived. I don’t know what to think about the damage yesterday morning and my subsequent bullshit pissy mood. Force and disillusionment pretty much define the mood, although in there somewhere was also unrequited desire and dreaming. The whole affair needs to be pushed away. I can’t deal with it anymore today. Coffee. 1020. Cocktail hour, part one. I have a huge glass of whiskey here on the table and the gangsters playing on my right-hand display. I just ordered some short lengths of stainless and aluminum tubing for the truck. The other night, my neighbor wanted me to show it off to someone who had not seen it, the result being my intention to finalize the steering setup. I’ll get around to it when the bike is finished and out of here. In the meantime, I can experiment with threading the outer diameters to see how well they will work as adjustment points for the wire ropes. I’ve had this idea for a long time but didn’t do anything about it. I’ve been distracted from the project for months. I also have half of my daily routine out of the way. I could use a timesheet code right about now. Thursday morning. I went on a very calm tirade last night regarding books, film, and a few other things. I spoke about theatres and the feeling of walking into an auditorium. I feel very down this morning, too. The most likely cause was the conversation last night, although it was nothing bad. Just memories flooding me for whatever reason. We worked on the bike more yesterday and then switched the two. At some point during the next couple of days, I’ll have to rework the handlebars and risers, and then maybe I’ll pull the tail light for replacement. I don’t know how I will feel later, though. I just don’t know. I am losing out on time. It is flying along with nary a care for the individual, and rightly so. We are supposed to make things happen rather than just sitting and waiting for something to darken the doorsteps. Time pays no mind, and I am losing. Lost. Loss. All of it. I don’t see another method for living life right now, damn it. I don’t know what the fuck to do. This point each morning is when I take a break in the garage for a smoke, and then I return for the last cup of coffee, if I feel like it. After? The routine, I suppose. I feel so beaten down by everything that making some sort of change would require a miracle, and I think you already know how I feel about all that hocus pocus bullshit. I’m in a bad spot here. Very bad. The clock keeps spinning and each day feels a bit shorter than the last. That means if I am going to alter some aspect of my life for improvement, such action has to take place soon. Right now? I really couldn’t give a shit about change. I don’t know which direction to turn, nor do I have a clue as to what I should be doing, and the sum forces me to sit here and accomplish little more than thinking. 0913. Last cup of coffee. The sun is shining for a change. When my coffee is gone, I’ll probably get away from this wallowing and do some housework. After that, I have no idea. Maybe further organization in the office and garage. I don’t know. Wow... I need some fucking help. Unbelievable, this situation. Damn. At least I have the time and space to think. Feeling this lost in the world requires at least some physical comfort. I should be thankful to live in this house right now. 1516. Out of gas. Does she understand? Friday. Coffee. My friends on the right-hand display. What else is there? I created someone who understands everything. I made her out of thin air because reality was not enough (IS not enough). Now I envision her every day and the only plus is keeping all of the information to myself. Everything else hurts me. I wish life did not have to be this way because I am so sad and angry that even the little enjoyments that have been holding me up are waning. This is not good. Does the understanding even exist at all? Or have I been searching for yet another fantasy soul? Probably. Nothing good is going to happen. Nothing. Maybe I’ll sit right here all day and work on the top menu. What else is there? Anything? I’ll be disappointed no matter the outcome of the day, so perhaps my efforts have been for naught. Splendid. Does she understand that the code was only temporary? I can’t use it anymore, nor can I exercise my resources to seek comfort. I can’t do much of anything these days. If there was ever a time when I needed the G78 to remove difficulty, this is it. I haven’t seen the other one for some days. I caught a quick glance, but nothing more. There is never a guarantee that I’ll see her for several reasons. I can only hope. And I found that I miss her. She doesn’t understand, either, but at least I can dream that she does. This condition is going to worsen sometime during the next two months as I transition from the fifth show back to the first, and then on to the third (yes, they are playing out of order because I goofed up the whole thing last year). The third show is the one that forces me to dream of wonderful things more than the others. The atmosphere within the program conjures imagery of me actually being there and watching all of my problems melt away. The understanding would be available, as well. Everything... Repaired. Comfort. Happiness. Everything. Oh, and the other one would be there with me. Don’t ask. This is the way my psyche has developed as a result of too much routing and squishing for too many years. Between the possibilities and the other one being there, such an atmosphere would fix everything very quickly. No more of this. I need to see her, and soon. She helps me remember the past. There’s that girl again... The one with Del. Jesus fuck does she ever have a unique face. No matter how many times I see this episode, the sight of her catches me off-guard when she appears. Wow. You wanna talk about a genetic fluke? Holy crap. I would have loved to see her face up close back then. Fucking stunning. For days and days I have sat here every fucking morning and thinking that something has to change, or that I am in dire need ot moving outside the norm and branching in some other direction, yet still I remain exactly the same with the feeling inside that I can’t really do anything different. This is not good by any stretch of the word. For whatever reason, the morning finds me typically positive with regard to the house and related projects, whereas on the inside I am usually yearning for comfort and understanding. Every fucking day. At some point I feel that the only way to keep going in life is to make a change, yet I don’t know what to do. Still. Maybe I’ve been squished for too long without my precious G78 to use as a saving throw. I’ve missed that code for so long that I can’t recall half of the conversations related to its advantages. This is crap. The code can’t help me change my behavior because that was not its purpose. The main benefit was the ability to circumvent procedures and reap the rewards. None of that exists anymore or I’d be flexing the G78 every fucking day in order to help myself change this damned situation. Most of the time I just don’t care enough to make a move. Or maybe in the past I realized that I will not find happiness anyway, so there is little reason for such effort. I can’t predict the future, either. Something may come along and save me. In the meantime, I will do what I know. Oh God, that occasion. THAT one. Not the first, but afterward. I don’t remember the interval, but I will say nothing in the past pulled at me as strongly. Right there. And she knew how I felt. Everything went to shit very quickly, though. Said shit has not stopped since then. G78. Does she understand? No one knows of her. No one. Only me. That is why I occasionally ask if you believe she is real. The world may never know for sure. She is real to me. No red eyes this time. No red eyes. I am sick and tired of feeling this way and there is nothing I can do about it. That is why I become angry. A lack of understanding ears and being routed have ruined everything, most likely yielding a future fraught with more of the same, if not worse. Isn’t that peachy? Another little waddling vision went by my window a few minutes ago and caused me to see the damage from those dreams last year even more clearly. I was reminded of the festival, too. I believe my brain went in such a direction due to the way I felt about fear many years ago, and my behavior followed suit almost immediately in order to protect myself. For a while, my new method worked, although years later it faded away out of necessity. The damaging dreams that changed the way I see the world came along due to the same reasons I had so many years ago. I understand some of it. There is both good and bad attached to this line of thinking, the latter being the main reason I can’t discuss the topic with other people. I would have to implicitly trust the ears. That’s just not going to happen anymore. The result of being reminded of the way I think and all of the voids and alterations throughout the last eight years is a lack of direction, ambition, and every other positive term in my head. I don’t like feeling so bad all the time. I’m sure no one likes to feel bad. When I dream of what I so badly need in life, moments pass and I fall on my face with the realization that there is nothing about the future that resembles the word bright. No recourse means frustration, and then anger is born of zero options in life. This will come to a head. And yes, I realize I’ve been saying those words for years, but keep in mind some aspects of life cannot be rushed because they represent permanent change. Permanent. I hate all this shit. Does she understand? Can she help? I need to G78 myself right off this fucking planet."
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