March 28th, 2023 9:08am pdt

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

Amor Vincit Omnia

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"1129 on the same Sunday. I took care of the typical morning business and now have hours to myself for the exploration of feelings or working on the bike. I’ll have to do some garbage business in and around everything else, plus a load of dry cleaning. The latter will wait until I’m in the garage. Doing so allows me to keep an ear on the timer, which is important so the garments do not become wrinkled. I am also going to prep, trim and boil an artichoke so it can be split and broiled as a side dish for dinner. The process takes about three hours, meaning I should get started in about four hours. No problem. The schedule for today – like most days – is completely under my control (which happens to be my second favorite word, by the way). The only other project I’d like to start is capturing another wristwatch so it can be listed for auction. I see the wind outside is ramping up, so I’ll need to move into the garage and keep an eye on everything.

Monday morning. The usual.

‘Kali ma, shakthi deh!’ Please.

This is not my best day. I may have to try making something out of the late morning in order to alleviate the shit in my head. Yes, shit-head. Production? I don’t know. I was productive yesterday with the housework, garbage and some work on the bike. I even cleaned up afterward and made a nice dinner. Whatever is required for pushing me up a few notches will have to be forced today. I can already feel the darkness creeping into my head and I fully intend to resist. The weekend worked out very well, and I need today to follow suit. I don’t want to be angry right now. I am too tired to deal with those feelings. The typical evening after spending part of the day pissed off is just not fucking comfortable. I need the opposite, honestly. Feeling like shit in the morning is rather common, meaning I’m already accustomed to the fight between giving up or forcing the day to bend my way. The hour is early enough for me to consider options. The last cup of coffee is next to me. Once it’s gone, I’ll have to kick into gear for a while.

The relationship between the fracture and the past has been getting to me lately. Such a topic tends to shove the holyforms and all that other shit away with a lot of power, yet the problem seems to carry equal weight. Everything is related, really, and the sum often feels like the end of the world with each passing day. The fracture is not my doing, either. I am completely innocent with regard to that type of issue. And yes, I am at fault for lots of things. At least I know as much. I’ve been the cause of years of difficulty for other people, too. Once again, I know it. The last thing I’d ever do is deny responsibility. As for the fracture, well... That one hurts all the time, and seems to come to my mind at some point every fucking day. I’ve been affected too much after all these years. That is the bottom line. It will never go away, although sometimes I feel the need to speak to someone about it. Right now I just don’t know. I will say that my past dealings with a few key individuals have influenced the creation of holyforms along with the sinful realm. In short, I’ve been driven and routed to think this way. I’m not saying it’s good or ‘ok’, just that my issues since last year have been born of the fracture.

1055. I just finished my daily routine and have the remaining cocktail next to me, just below the gangsters. My housework being finished helps to open the day to more positive activities rather than wallowing in the negative feelings from earlier. I have to push them to the rear and move forward or the day will descend into a pit of alcohol and anger. I really don’t want that type of thing today.

1238. The oven is heating for lunch. I worked on the bike for an hour and made a mistake, although it’s nothing too bad. I pulled the camshaft cover from the right side of the engine because I didn’t see a way of disconnecting the wiring. Well, no sooner did I pull the cover when I noticed a plug. Oopsie. The cover cannot be reinstalled without pulling all of the valve gear from the top down. At least the current engine is going away. I can rebuild the valvetrain once the engine is out of the bike. No big deal. After lunch, I’ll probably drop the lift to the floor to continue removing all of the wiring harnesses. I have to wait for tools to come in the mail before I can pull the starter and primary drive. The project is being held up by three fasteners. Whatever. I’ll get there. My other projects are on hold for the time being, not that I want to work on the truck these days. That one is going to sit for a long while because I don’t really care much anymore.

Tuesday morning has arrived, along with some serious weather again. I guess there will be rain and wind like last week. Hopefully the wind is not as powerful. I lost two more sections of the patio cover and would like to keep the rest. Heh. Anyway, the hour is early and I have very little to do today. Eh... Svetlana has successfully reinforced the fracture, damn it. I can’t blame her, though, because she does not know me (nor will she ever). The woman is just another notch, but a small one. Doesn’t matter anyway. That which I think just doesn’t matter. I’ll go through my typical routine later this morning with my extended family in the background, and then relax here for a little while. I don’t know if working in the garage is a good idea in this weather. Yesterday I finally succeeded in removing the entire wiring harness from the bike along with the handlebars, but now I am nearly at a standstill because I have to wait for a few key tools to come in the mail. The next big step will be the primary drive. I guess today can be spent indoors.

Yep, that little exchange reinforced one of the guiding tenets of my life and there is nothing I can do about it. I just have to sit here and fucking lump it. Whatever. At least I need not answer to anyone for the way I feel these days. No fanfare for any reason, nor any time. I may have few options in life, but at least I’ve been able to realize that this exposition is important enough to maintain distance. And I mean DISTANCE. The keywords are invisible, most notably those from last year’s sinful beginning that led to the realm within which I now reside. Just trust me... None of this is good by any stretch of the word. The fracture and subsequent issues throughout the last decade-plus have strengthened my resolve to the point of feeling that I actually do have some power. Not the same type of power that the holyforms have, though. Not even close. The last image within the previous entry is one of the most powerful I have ever seen, and at the same time fills me with nothing but sadness. Her likeness has the power to force me into a mental fetal position. The type of power I feel is made up of a lack of trust, a very cynical world view, and the knowledge that I have only myself in life. Just me. I may be deadlocked, but that does not mean I must be stagnant. And? AJ... What the fuck? The shot when they walk by the pool is revealing that Devin was wearing some heels, and combined with her little wrap and bikini bottoms, the image is holy-hell worthy of mention. Someone in the forms referred to the shot as ‘side ass’ and I can’t disagree. I won’t go further, however, like mentioning the relationship between her stomach and hips. I’ll never say that. And... Where the hell was I? Ah... The power I sometimes feel. Well, I don’t believe it is a life-changing realization, yet there are still advantages. At least I don’t feel flat anymore, as if I have shoe prints on my back. The fracture has done me good. Believe it. I’ll be forever alone, but the bottom line is that such a circumstance has become a defensive position and I love the process of fortification. One leads to the next...

My last cup of coffee is to my right. Afterward, I’ll probably transition into my typical morning housework with friends in the background. They never insult me or cause fractures, nor will they ever change. I need those people inside the televisions like I need oxygen. Believe it. On other fronts, I have everything charged or charging (like the laptop) just in case the storm knocks off our power again. The wireless MDRs will help me follow the video media should the need arise. No matter how fucked up the weather gets, I always have a method for finding the most important comfort in life. Well, the second, anyway. The top of the list is gone forever.


Here I sit once again at 1030 with the requisite cocktail and my program. The daily routine is finished and I have time to relax and remain off my feet for a little while. The realm is still in the back of my mind waiting to pounce. Sinful thoughts, off and on all morning. I can’t do anything about them because the compulsion is overwhelming and the pull is far too powerful for me to resist, even inside my own brain. I should be in control of the latter, too, but alas, I am a basket case and very weak in many ways. Madon, I can’t stop seeing that girl walking by the camera. She has the power. All of it. The sinful realm is here to stay. Anyway, the rest of this day is still up in the air. I need to wash some clothes prior to close of business, but the weather is not cooperating with my meager schedule.

I think Furio is wearing a Fortis chronograph. Damn. And loving Jamie this much is destroying me. God fucking damn is that woman ever beautiful. I love her more with each passing day. Believe it, because I am that far out of balance.

Maybe I’ll sit in the office for the rest of the day. I did drop the laundry in the washer, though. I’m not completely void of motivation. I just ordered some lunch, too. Ah, Jesus fucking hell in a software suite, the delivery driver’s name is JAIME. The fuck? Sometimes there are little moments in life that cannot be explained, which happen when we least expect, and the result is being caught so off-guard that there can be no understanding whatsoever. Jesus. Her name is spelled like that of the duchess. Moreover, I was just commenting upon my fucking screwy love for Jamie. How did this happen? Is it a coincidence? Has to be. There can be no other explanation because the world does not bend for, or align to, my deepest wishes. Ah... My lunch is here.

Ugh. No coincidence at all. The driver was male. Whatever. No more of that shit today.

Wednesday morning, just after the early business. I am comfortable in my office with a cup of coffee and the show. No idea what this day may have in for me. None. I am going to relax here at the control center for a while and then see what happens. The dreams followed me in the middle of the night, and I am not referring to anything involving beauty. Quite the reverse, actually. One of the series’ we recently watched seems to pop into my head from time to time and remain there solidly until I rise from bed to a new day. Last night I was plagued and so concerned that my sleep would be truncated due to such uncomfortable visions that tremendous worry kept me awake and alert for quite a while. Even now I feel a bit drained, whereas most days I find the most ambition during the morning hours. As I said, I know not what this day has in store. One moment at a time, I suppose. I’m not angry, but my head is pretty sideways this morning. Thank the maker for all this time.

I am already losing my way and the time is not even nine. The last cup of coffee is next to me and my program is still running, yet inside I really don’t know what to do. The rain seems to have stopped for the time being. I could work on whatever is best once the daily routine is finished. Maybe I’ll go to the market for a few items later. I don’t know. I wish I could buy some ambition, although I don’t have much money, either. There does not seem to be anything I can do to shake these feelings at times. The dreams keep creeping into my head, thoughts of beauty and desire are floating just beyond the fear, and nothing is pressing right now. All of that adds up to my loss of direction quite often lately. The tools I ordered should be arriving today, too. I could work on the bike a little bit and try to pass this bad spot with the starter. I could also continue caring for the floor inside the house. Unfortunately, something will have to push me because I can’t find a way to do it myself. Not right now, at least. I don’t like this crap, but again, at least I’m not angry today.

Thursday. I feel better this morning than I did yesterday. The business is finished and I have my coffee sitting just below the gangsters. The time is just shy of eight. No bad dreams this time. I need to clean my office window again. The last storm wreaked havoc out there.

Today I have to go over the hill for an order pickup, and then return to the market here in town for a few items. I haven’t been out of the house since last week, so perhaps the drive will be nice for a change. Right now I honestly don’t feel like going anywhere, but the trip is important. As usual, I will be overjoyed to arrive back home. Three different stores. I should not be gone for much more than an hour, though. No problem. Sometimes I have to go out there in order to more fully appreciate being here. The trips to the big wine store have been much easier lately due to placing an order in advance and then picking it up. I don’t have to wander through the store. After those blue pants last week, I really don’t need anything else crossing my vision. Once I am back on this side of the hill, I’ll pop into two stores closer to home. Maybe I’ll take care of half the routine prior to leaving. That way when I return I can pour a nice drink and clean the kitchen with my friends in the background. Sounds comfortable to me. Even after three years, heading into that room with one of my shows on the television still provides a deep sense of comfort inside. Well, that and cooking during the evenings. I don’t have much these days, but the kitchen helps.

Ah... The time is now 1120 and my shopping and routine are complete. The feeling of arriving home after being out and about is as I expected... Comfortable. I took care of the housework with my friends in the background and now have some time to relax and stay off my feet before lunch. This is the type of start that I needed today. Once lunch is finished, I’ll probably go tooling around with the bike again. My sockets arrived yesterday along with the hand impact driver so I can hopefully unfreeze the starter bolt and proceed with removing the primary drive. I discovered that one of the sockets I ordered is incorrect, so I grabbed an entire set this morning which will be delivered tomorrow. I am tired of not having the right tools for the job, and considering that I will probably have a bike of my own sometime during the next year or two, I should be prepared for maintenance or modifications. The vast array of tools I own has turned into another hobby, believe it or not. I love hand tools and try to be prepared for anything. The downside is that two of the sockets I already have will be duplicated within the set. Crap. Whatever. If I break one of them, there will be a backup.

Not much on the sinful realm thus far in this entry. I guess since my feelings seem to be on the back burner, I’ll just have to wait until the mood returns and hits me upside the head. Even seeing Jamie on the screen during the fifth season has not stirred me much. Maybe upon gazing at the most beautiful woman in the world during the following season I will lose my shit again. Right now I just don’t fucking know. Predicting when my condition will flare seems impossible.

Friday morning, 0821, and my brain is all fucked up. This will not last, though, because I have a lot capable of distracting me or commanding my time today. Much like yesterday, the focus will be projects rather than wallowing at the keyboard. The tool array will increase later today so I can continue the bike project tomorrow (or hopefully this afternoon), plus I have my daily routine and a bit of cleaning to do. There are images and little situations floating inside my head that need to be pushed away or I’ll fall on my face today. I can’t have that again. Whatever is required to keep my head up will be forced. I am very unhappy and will be better off avoiding the inherent anger that results from having been left in such a position. This is far worse than the summer of seventeen when I began to feel as if my life was over because even then I saw little opportunities to find joy and comfort beyond the house. Now? I don’t see anything in the future. Nothing whatsoever beyond my typical living conditions and the idea of embracing whatever can distract me from knowing the future is so bleak and empty. I will say that the motorcycle project has renewed my interest in garage work. We are seconds away from Liza and her amazing face appearing on screen for a moment. She was all wrapped around my brain many years ago, but now resides in the background of desire with hundreds of others. Anyway, I have to do my best to continue bringing in bits of cash here and there in addition to the other projects. In and around everything else, I’ll capture and list one more wristwatch to help support the household and offset some of the tools I’ve purchased.

Amor vincit omnia? No fucking way.


1027. My daily routine is out of the way and I have hours ahead to do whatever seems best. At some point I’ll drive north to the cigarette store and then return home to boil some beets for a salad. I’m chomping at the bit to receive the new tools, although until they arrive I have some little details on the bike which can be addressed. For the time being, I’m going to sit here and relax off my feet until the morning glass of depressant is gone. The theme music from the program we’ve been watching during the last two evenings has been swirling inside my head all morning. Last night I had tears in my eyes over the period when that series first premiered. That was a wondrous time, and the more I think about it, the more I realize the depth of my disdain for progress in general, and the passage of time in particular. And before you comment, I do know that the latter is inevitable and cannot be stopped or even slowed. As for the former, well, nothing can be done on that front, either, but sometimes progress can result in positives for society. Everything just makes me so fucking sad that I am constantly on the edge of becoming very angry over such tenets. A bad mood will solve nothing, however. I can’t do anything about ‘anything’ these days. My only path is to roll along the rails and go where they dictate. Someplace good? Nope. The music cut me deeply and conjured a multitude of good feelings. Unfortunately, I am not a person who accepts change easily, if at all, meaning eventual anger is on my horizon. No wonder I am an alcoholic. Functioning? Somewhat. I don’t have a job, so that segment of the definition does not apply. Rarely does the booze affect my daily work.

Robert had no place using the ‘p-word’ when addressing Carmela. There were a thousand other ways of getting his point across without using vulgarity. I didn’t write the show, though, so I have to hear it every time this episode rolls around. I may be all fucked up in the head, but a male should NEVER use such language when speaking to a woman. Ever. Doing so diminishes the value of everyone in the world. There is Gwen again with her fawn-eyed face and lanky features. Yep, Tony B’s fiancée. I’ve mentioned her eyes before. What I wouldn’t give to speak with that beauty face-to-face in reality. Ugh... Nothing good. The essay from seventeen continues to plague my psyche. Anyway, Robert was dead wrong and about as disrespectful as possible. I don’t like that word at all. Don’t even get me started on the largest catalyst in the world for such degrading terms.

One of these days I am going to clean up and head to a nice restaurant for an agreeable meal. I need it. Wait... A hundred dollars for a three-drink lunch? What? I’ll fucking do worse than that, budget be damned. Sometimes I feel the past lurking behind me like a cloaked figure bent upon my destruction and the final solution is again illuminated. That means a lavish lunch. Fucking figure it out already.

Where is the title? The topic? What about the fracture? Obsession? Damage? I don’t know. One interesting aspect of this morning is that I just switched off my favorite series to listen to some very old CCR instead. This album brings me back to the early seventies and my dad’s truck with the eight-track mounted beneath the steel dash. That was so long ago that I barely understand. The truck was handed down to me during the nineties and I held on to it for quite a while, but not nearly long enough. I fucked up and began to disregard that beautiful vehicle in favor of my wagon (which was brand new), and eventually it went away. I still miss it. That truck was chock full of memories that cannot be replaced. It’s gone. Fuck. Whatever. I did it and must live with a ton of regret. Sometimes I wonder if the prophecies and other voodoo are real and my dad is looking down upon me. What a frightening consideration.

1256. I took care of a few details on the bike, had a light lunch and then showered. My hands would not warm up no matter what I did in the garage. A hot shower is wonderful for completely warming oneself. I still haven’t gone to the cigarette store because I just don’t feel like leaving the house. I’ll probably go in a little while, though. Once I close up the house and hop in the car, the process will feel infinitely easier. My sockets arrived a few minutes ago and I am still awaiting the impact driver. I may not be able to do any heavy work on the bike until tomorrow, possibly Sunday. We are slated to attend an anniversary gathering tomorrow afternoon, hence the beets.

Saturday morning. My head is sideways again and I believe this condition is due to a dream earlier. I don’t recall, but inside my heart is a gap as if I spent time where I needed to be and then it all disappeared. I was already a bit fucked up from the show last night. This morning I’ve been picturing one of the characters that I liked when the series first aired almost twenty-three years ago. Not only that, but the situation during that period was wondrous, as I’ve mentioned. The combination of everything is really working overtime inside my head these days. Each episode brings me back, and then I see that girl and kind of lose it a little bit. She’s not the biggest problem, though. The dream has me somewhat confused. I’ve been in wonderful places before. Unfortunately, the only wonder left is in my dreams. Awakening in the morning can be traumatic. At least I have the time and space to sit here and try to understand how the events of the past continue to hold me down. Wow... That moment when Devin walks past the pool just played on my display. The disparity between her waist and hips is incredible, not to mention what can be seen right around the corner. I won’t be specific because it is a massive point of contention for both males and females of varying ages. Whatever... I don’t care. The girl looks amazing from that angle and holy shit would I ever love to see more of her. Fuck. And there she went again, this time from the front with those hips moving just enough. Crap. The scene is over and I have to leave it alone now. I still don’t know what I was dreaming early this morning, but I would not be surprised to learn that the subject was the same girl. God damn is she unique.

Yesterday I was able to pull myself up and do some work beyond the norm, thank Christ. The tools all arrived, so I ventured to the bike project and advanced it quite a ways while keeping an eye on the laundry situation. By close of business, I had that bike just about ready to lose its transmission, believe it or not, and then a little while later I calculated my next steps for either today or tomorrow. The new impact gun really paid off.

The big doe eyes are all over the display this season, most notably within this episode. Doe eyes outweigh cat eyes much of the time, although they are different enough that sometimes I should avoid the distinction. None of that stuff is good for me, anyway. Very little is good for me, honestly. Anyway...

Doe eyes. Fawn?

1320. I have everything finished, including the salad and gift wrapping. I even figured out a method for supporting the transmission from above. Three solid hooks and my wrecking bar are holding the unit from the top of the frame, meaning now I can place a jack beneath the engine and finally remove the entire transmission. Whew! The work is rewarding, though. It really is. I believe if and when I acquire a bike, the model in my garage is at the head of the line. We will be leaving in a little over half an hour, so the teardown will probably have to wait until tomorrow. I am looking forward to an abundance of free time along with my typical routine in the morning.

Dreams. Ugh. I don’t know what’s been happening in my head during sleep, although this may have something to do with what I’ve been seeing on the television at night. Sometimes I see her walking away from the camera over and over no matter what I am doing at a given time. There were a few bad (key) moments last night, too. She is damned curvy for being so slender. Maybe she was the reason for my difficult awakening. I don’t know. Adriana is wearing that bra which seems to have double straps. I still don’t know what that is, but the material is really cool. Anyway, I have a lot to do today. Maybe I can push away the tough stuff for a while and focus upon my housework and garbage. I don’t know yet. For the time being, the word of the morning is coffee. Dinner was fine yesterday. We returned and relaxed. That means there is very little to clean in the kitchen.

Kali ma, indeed. She can’t help me. But something has to happen. Something small, too, because there is no solution. The title is bullshit and reminds me that my past adventures have been the closest aspects of life related to the word ‘everything’. ‘Omnia’ is the name of one of the largest nightclubs in this country. It also reminds me of two disparate situations, each of which was wondrous in its own right. The first was probably key, too, because all of the trouble in my brain manifested itself in an endless slew of beauty moving from one side of that massive room to the other. No, not inside the club. We were outside. I think about that evening quite often. It actually returned to me last night when that girl walked away from the camera, and then again while she was being interviewed in a confessional. Folded up like a pretzel is the only way I can convey her position. There is some sort of connection with what’s been happening in my head during the day and those dreams that I’ve been unable to recall lately. They leave me with little memory but lots of feelings, the types of which are difficult to pass on. Something has to happen. I’m losing grip these days. There are moments during the early mornings when I think of that motorcycle in the garage that awaits further attention. I am beginning to wonder what may happen when it is finished. Will I be able to distract myself from the shit? Will I find another way of killing time during those days when my sense of direction disappears? Is something waiting for me?


The sinful thoughts never leave my head. Not for a moment. Believe me, the one by the pool was nothing compared to this shit, and keep in mind that after a few minutes of seeing her, the desire inside me hit an all-time high. I had not felt so strongly about anyone prior to that. Fortunately, those feelings faded quickly and left me with nothing more than memories. The tinges went away. So, the dreams from last year brought an entirely new situation into my brain. It was a slam to my psyche, and one perhaps I should have expected after realizing the level of desperation inside me. This is unbelievable and I can’t talk about it. The girl at the pool? I don’t believe she matters anymore. I guess she came to mind again this morning due to what I saw last night strolling along the beach. Honestly, none of this matters. I just keep talking and talking and nothing changes. Memories accomplish nothing more than causing pain. Sinful... The realm of the deviant, diabolical mind. I keep seeing her over and over in my head (and seldom in reality) and each occasion pushes me further from reality. I just sit here and daydream of all sorts of shit, none of which is likely to come to me in this life. At least my words have become less superlative and more comparative. Maybe that means I am not falling off as quickly as I had once thought. And? At the same time? Maybe time travels backward at the speed of light. Maybe that car will pull up to the front of the house and take all the bad away. Three faces, all together. They would save me. No more maybes.

0824. I have my coffee and the show. I also have a head full of ideas on how to manage my time today. Some of the hours will be spent alone, too. If any work is done on the bike, it will be right in the middle of the day and after my typical housework. I don’t know if the weather will be warm enough to mess around with that transmission, however. So far this morning, the mercury is very low. Perhaps if I decide to work on the project, keeping the doors closed will help normalize the temperature out there. Again I find myself wondering what’s going to happen when it is finished. Hmm. Right now I feel that if the project were to disappear, I’d be fairly lost (yes, more than I already was prior to the bike residing here). I suppose I’ll begin the routine like always, and then relax for a little while with the morning cocktail.

I know some of the reasons. I remember the beginning of one, whereas others have cropped up in my head as I’ve recalled past situations, some more recent and others way the hell back in time. There was someone who supported Ashley’s ideas, albeit the condition of life at the time was very messy and I had not the time to explore the way the woman really felt. Inside? I feared for my feelings as they continued to send me back to the past and lying quietly while Ashley told me how she felt. Andrea was very similar, yet completely off-track from the younger woman with respect to one key fact. Well, that didn’t matter very much because the importance of our connection pretty much buried everything else. One of the reasons I am so fucked up now is the essay from seventeen. There are parts of that shit which drew tears while I typed. And I tried to follow it with another and failed miserably. The reason did not help, nor could I find the words to convey the sheer depth of feelings in my heart. Ashley came to mind again, bless her big heart. I don’t know where the hell this is going, either. I am just typing words and thinking in a haphazard manner. The paragraphs are probably going to suffer. There is no Ashley in my life anymore, and considering we spent only a few days together, the fact of my out of balance nature should be clear. That was nearly twenty years ago, yet the nature of our togetherness still fucks with my brain almost daily. Seventeen found me missing her terribly (and yearning for the way she thought), and at that point my dissatisfaction in life seemed to be at an all-time high. Well, now I see it was nothing more than a bump in the road. The reasons are more plentiful now than they were when that shit entry was written, and then some years passed and I followed it knowing full well there grew even more reasons, some of which were completely my fault. Some were not... Are not. And now my thinking and consideration of certain aspects of life are grossly skewed and very subjective. I’ve been driven to this in a very fast car.

0910. I am beginning to feel antsy. Maybe I’ll take care of half the routine (which generally kicks off my Sunday housework) and then look around at whatever else needs to be addressed today. My coffee is nearly gone.

Two hours later and I have the daily routine out of the way and have made revolutions for the afternoon work. If you don’t understand such a phrase, look up submarine propulsion terms. Good luck with that. From this point forward, I have the dry cleaning and garbage to care for, and then I’ll transition to the garage to consider the bike project. I have to pull the roadside jack from my car and support the engine – the easy part – and then figure out a method for supporting the frame. Once everything is in place, I can drop the rear screw jack and unbolt the transmission. That one step will free the engine and allow me to better configure the equipment on the lift. It will also mean an end to the project until my neighbor has the time to pull the engine out of the frame.

Love conquers little, honestly. The overly-romantic types will attach such a phrase to anything seemingly insurmountable, but I will not. The truth is unpleasant. The shit in my head that has built up for decades cannot be washed away with a few choice terms, nor can it be alleviated by spouting a bunch of hopeful crap. I am all fucked up, but still intelligent enough to know that some situations are beyond repair. The last thing I will do is sit here and think that I can overcome so much turmoil by embracing some errant ancient wisdom. That type of blind faith is short-sighted and weak. People fool themselves all the time, meaning ‘love’ is no different. I may sound negative, yet the best starting point for any trouble is from the negative. No disappointments means no disappointments. Cynical, yes, but this is what I’ve become.

1210. I have lunch in the oven and a plan for the rest of the day. Once lunch is out of the way, I’ll transition to the garage and begin the dry cleaning. While that process is underway, I can time it from the phone and take care of all the garbage business. The transmission project will commence upon my domestic chores being finished, or nearly so. I have plenty of time. As for the bike, I am going to try supporting the engine and frame with the same tools, leaving the transmission to swing in the wind so I can unbolt it. From there, my work will be paused until we can pull the engine together. It’s far too heavy for one person to handle. My day’s plan hath formed.

Watching some television programs helps me to realize how fucking easy it has been to avoid drugs and other paths in life. I honestly feel it. Maybe my time on this globe has been boring or otherwise less exciting, but the truth is I appreciate the fact that I’ve never embraced anything truly dangerous with regard to such a lifestyle. This is a huge positive. I need to keep it in mind when my head goes sideways.

The weather is fairly warm and sunny today. There is another storm due to arrive late Monday night, too. I’ve been keeping the yard in order for just such an occurrence because this season has held more than its share of difficulties with regard to the jetstream. I guess tomorrow will be another in a long line of days spent preparing for a power outage or other related troubles.

Monday morning. Another storm is coming during the night, possibly further toward tomorrow morning, meaning I will once again have to ensure all of the emergency equipment and supplies are in order. No big deal. I have my coffee and one of the shows to the right, the IDE on my left, and this crap in the middle. This is the universal display which carries any extraneous information I may need at a given time; and my words. When I don’t know what to say, you’ll see my daily plans or ideas. Nothing more. Most of the time, I don’t know what to say. I keep thinking about the bike project and whatever other ideas I’ve had to further the house, yet right behind everything is the world sending me aslant like never before. The storm coming tonight is not the only one with which I must contend. I’ll do whatever feels best today, or maybe less than that. Right now I just don’t know. Tomorrow I have an appointment to have a television repaired (or possibly just replaced), and I think my timing will coincide with the harsh weather. Ooh-fa.

0900 straight up. The last of the coffee is next to me. When it’s gone, I’ll transition to housework and my friends will keep me company, bless them. Oh, and I’ll have a cocktail, too. Last night we were discussing the difficulty her grandmother has when the television is messed up. Apparently, the device is her only source of both video and music. I can understand the difficulty, too, because I’ve said on many occasions that if our big television has a problem, I would have another on the wall within two hours. Heh. I don’t believe my life can remain even partially stable without my friends and extended family in the background. The thought is frightening these days because I’ve grown completely dependent upon the media. I am out of balance, no shit, but as the days pass by, the condition continues to worsen. I’ve got so much information buried inside that I am frankly surprised to be going through the motions at all.


Nothing has been conquered. Nothing. I am worse off at this very moment than I have been for more than two decades. The essay from seventeen returns to the forefront of my mind each day, while the follow-up sits just behind screaming superlatives. And then Jamie and her huge doe eyes float by the lens of the camera and send me flying. Every fucking time. I love her so much and she isn’t real. None of them are real except the morsel from the damaging dreams. I still want her in every conceivable way, too, and the feelings of desire do not leave me for a fucking second. My head manufactures images and situations which will forever be impossible. And speaking of that last word, one of my drawings fell on the floor the other night, here in the office. I designed a house during the last few years born of the layout I owned in the valley. It is magical. Just like during the Midwest period when I dreamed of actually building one of the mansions I created, the feeling of actually being inside one of my designs can transport me into a different kind of dream world from those described here. The paper fell on the floor not far from where I am sitting. Well, the fact that it fell is not a big deal. The drawing is a draft that helped me to scale and begin a larger, more detailed version. The issue came about because we talked a bit on the topic of my design, the ending of which was me stating that it is a ‘beautiful home I will never build’. Not good. Like some weeks ago when I was feeling a huge wave of sadness, the idea that all of my past dreams cannot come to fruition became a knife in my heart once again. Moreover, while working on the motorcycle yesterday, I realized that my other dream of owning and enjoying the same model is equally unlikely. The entire process of such realizations began some time ago when I was yearning for a road trip. I have conquered myself, in a manner of speaking. Love conquers nothing... Not a fucking thing. I mean, look at some of what I’ve written during the past year. I am in love with fictional characters who are frozen in time and cannot exist outside the medium. Isn’t that just fucking peachy? The clock pays no mind. Once again, reality is too painful to consider. This entire line of thinking is depressing the shit out of me, yet rarely can I do anything about it. No wonder I have so much trouble finding any semblance of forward motion in life. Look at the fucking bike project, for example. It doesn’t even belong to me. When completely finished, I will still be sitting right here with nothing to show for the effort. All I do is work for other people. Rarely anything for myself. Oh, there are the lunches and tools and shit, but in the grand scheme of life they are meaning less. Everything fades away. I may as well burn the home designs and delete all my saved itineraries for road trips.

1218. Lunch is going to be delivered again because I don’t have much in the house. Whatever. I need comfort, and between food, alcohol and video media, there is nothing else with the ability to provide anything close. I see Tony relaxing at a hotel bar with a glass of scotch (my favorite, actually) and I feel a deep need to do the same, yet due to my present situation, I can’t even get close to such a place. Oh, I can drive over the hill and have lunch at one or more of my favorite spots, but upon arriving home afterward I am in exactly the same condition, if not a worse frame of mind. My housework is finished except for a load of towels being washed. There are a few small items I can work out on the bike, too. But... Which? What do I do after lunch? Clean the floor again? I am so lost that I couldn’t find my way with a fucking Duplo map. The air is very cold and dry today. I may need lotion for my hands.

1505 is what I see on the three computer clocks (one on each display). The load of towels is finished and put away, I printed my silly tax returns – I say ‘silly’ because they are full of zeros – and have them ready to mail in the morning, and the second wristwatch is listed for auction. The proceeds will help with monthly expenses. I’ll miss that one, but the greater good must be served. Between this machine and the recent tool purchases, I need to recuperate some cash in order to offset what I’ve spent and feel better about what money goes flying out the door. I will probably clean the bathroom soon and then take it easy for a while. The plan for dinner is pretty simple, too. That means easy cleanup tomorrow. I have to go over the hill to the electronics store and would like to have everything finished prior to leaving the house. Maybe I’ll browse around some and look at toys. Heh. Anyway, there is another storm due to hit late tonight. Wind gusts and rain again, from what I understand. A storm means I need to ensure everything in the backyard is in order. Keeping an eye on the house during crazy weather is a huge benefit of being home all the time. Oh, and something might happen. I can’t talk about it, though.

Something did happen. Wow. Sorry... That’s all the information to be disseminated here.

The sinful realm and related dreaming has been offline for some days. I can’t believe it, to be honest. Not long ago I figured those dreams and visions were going to be the end of my ability to function. That is not so. I am still here and doing whatever seems best from one day to the next, and despite all that turmoil. Unfortunately, I also know that everything will come back just like a train on its return trip. I know about trains. It will come around the bend and hit me like never before. Matter of time. Beauty continues to torment me and desire never goes away. I’ll probably see one of those two forms in the future, as well. They will send me into the ground in all haste. I have my control center, housework, media and projects. That’s everything in my life.

There are all those people returning home after a work day. I am not one of them, thankfully. My role in the gears of society is pretty much finished, except perhaps for a few things around the neighborhood. I like to help.

The evening is close. I am looking forward to the television program at dinner time and the fourth series prior to – and during – cooking. Those people are in my heart so deep that whenever I even begin to entertain the idea of turning on the show, my reaction is that of warmth and comfort. Sitting here roughly two hours before I begin the preparations for dinner, I can already sense the wonder that will take place once I have my media running in the background. And now there is Cristin and her huge, dark eyes again. Good God, that woman is stunning. Her face appears to have been carved into the type of form that causes pain inside due to the sheer level of unique beauty. Oh, don’t worry... Very soon Jamie will come along and flatten everyone in the world. I love her. I really do. She is the very definition – the beginning and the end – of ‘doe’ eyes. Believe it. Huge.

Tuesday morning, early. A bit earlier than I am typically out of bed, too. I woke up and reached over to snooze the alarm on my phone and was immediately shaken by a small, quick earthquake. No sooner did I lie back to think about it when there was an aftershock. Apparently, there have been three in total, the first being roughly half an hour ago. I jumped out of bed because the hour was still dark and I don’t like an inability to keep an eye on a few things. Once the light comes up, I’ll be a little more comfortable. There is also a storm off the coast that will be swinging our way later this morning. Experiencing both at the same time is not fun. I am really looking forward to the light coming up soon. I’ll have the early business for a little while and then I can relax here and think about everything.

And... At 0740 I am doing just that. I have my coffee, the show on the right-hand display, and plenty of time to consider the weather and whatever else may be pressing. My appointment is after lunch, so the morning will be like many others; comfortable, quiet, and completely under my control. So far, the weather and the earth moving have taken priority over whatever difficulties may have grown this morning. I suppose this is not entirely a bad thing.

Have I mentioned Jamie has big eyes? God damn is that woman beautiful. Jesus.

Once again, the wind outside is gusting pretty heavily, and the rain is on and off. My drive to the electronics store might be a toughie, but I am still going to take care of the repair. It’s important. My garage is still closed because the bike parts are spread out somewhat and will not react well to moisture. I may end up leaving the garage closed all day long. At least the wind is coming from the south and my door faces north (mostly) should I decide to spend a little time out there. I think this is the twelfth storm with strong winds since the beginning of the year. We’ve not had this much inclement weather for many years.

My head is a little sideways this morning. I think about the past too much sometimes. I’ve seen a few situations that cause me to become very sad, and that one key observation from some years ago that I can’t speak about. Everything slams me at the same time on those days when I feel completely empty. And then my brain is led through the title of this entry and I cease the belief that any of the past can or will repeat. At least I am not angry as a result of these feelings this morning. Believe it or not, I don’t enjoy being angry, ever. I suppose once I become overwhelmed by sadness, the anger comes along as a natural extension of being holed up and closed off out of necessity. I’ve felt this way for so long that my faith has disappeared, not to mention how I feel about the title. Nothing can be conquered unless a very specific set of circumstances comes about. The likelihood is akin to the dreams coming true...