April 16th, 2023 8:36am pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning. The Sinful Realm III read ( words) "0831. I can already feel my head beginning to go sideways this morning. I may have to hop to my housework sooner rather than waiting until the coffee is gone. I have to keep myself distracted in order to avoid a disastrous day. Between the sinful thoughts and that fucking imagery that smacked me upside the head yesterday, all of my strength may be required to force this day into being something productive and positive rather than a pit of despair. I can’t remove anything bad from my head, so the only option is pushing it back... Suppression is not the best method, yet I don’t know what else to do. Perhaps if someone was listening, they could offer alternatives. No one is there. I am completely alone in this. Maybe Roxanne will show up at my door so I can lick her face. Contrary to what others may believe, I do not enjoy being angry. I am beginning to feel that I can make something of this day. The last cup of coffee is next to me and my head is calculating moves for the post-routine period. ‘Amor non est’, indeed. I am starting to look at the world and its inherent machinations differently. Long-held beliefs and standards of life are fading away. I’ll have to finish this cup and head into work before too long. Sunday morning has arrived on the heels of a decent Saturday. I completed lots of work on the bike. I also took care of my usual stuff around the house without issue. Keeping busy for such a vast amount of time meant my brain allowed some information to fall away and also fortified my head enough to relax about this life for a while. I didn’t see her face (or anything else) inside my brain for hours. That felt really good. This morning? Not too bad so far, although the shit from last year keeps popping in and attempting to completely derail me this early. I can’t have that today. The typical shows will follow me in favor of anything risky, such as the big three. Downhill. These days are filled with the overly-enjoyable feeling of working in the kitchen with my friends in the background as offset by the damaging daydreams of impossible situations. One of them came to me in the middle of the night, too. Between the up and down, there is my ever-loving netherworld of mental and emotional battles and fear combined with brief flashes of light and dark, the latter being a dream of making everything go away. This may mean I’ve been ‘manic’ for a long time and didn’t realize until recently due to the effects being subdued and the shallow nature of not having been fully diagnosed with any aspect of this condition being toward the positive. Quite the reverse, actually, and that was a long time ago. Right around the same time as when I ran to Juliette and drowned myself into her blouse and our little, temporary world. The doctor did not mince words and the record follows me to this very day. I think about all of it sometimes when my mood shifts quickly from one end of the scale to the other, and often when I find myself standing still just an hour after formulating a good plan for my time. Yesterday I remained in the ‘up’ position for quite a while, and regardless of the work, enjoyments, or plans for the coming days and weeks, I see and feel an overall downward trajectory which is taking a set inside my head for the long haul. I consider my place in the world whenever the media or other reminders hit me with the past (yesterday it was the second show), and when I look back twenty years, I see myself as occupying higher ground. Cut to a few years later and I found myself even further up and in a place I could never have predicted. Now? I have the transmission set in perpetual reverse because of the main two factors of my decisions over the years in general, and the most recent three in particular. My situation and condition have combined to represent and illuminate the lowest position I have ever held in this life. I am not proud of this, either. Everything feels far away right now. Very far, indeed. ‘Longitudo magna’. Yep. Had someone told me years ago that I would be here in the future, I probably would have agreed at least a little. My record stands on its own. I knew, and I fulfilled the circles when the time came for disruption. I still don’t know why, though. I have no fucking clue, but I am here nonetheless. The battle between moving forward and giving up has never been more evenly-matched. This feeling of perpetual depression forces me to return to the ‘keywords’ almost every day; specifically one massive word that I still cannot define. The downhill slide has greatly diminished my estimation of other people, and to be fair, that means I must look at myself, as well. None of this shit has much to do with the realm, although I will say that when I think of such a place I am forced to believe that my mindset changed so much last year that the idea of someone with the ability to ‘save’ me appears differently now than prior to me being altered against my wishes. I don’t even care if this crap makes sense. The realm is related to the slide, the slide had been caused by beauty, and my obsession was forged by a yearning for the right type of understanding. There you go. Unravel that one. No respite. None. Hmm... Maybe my present condition is directly related to the realm. Perhaps the feelings that came about inside me last year were inevitable. Things change, I guess. Things have changed. I don’t believe people see me as they did some years ago. I really don’t, yet I can’t be certain because I don’t talk to anyone these days. The suspicion has been born of a combination of fear and distrust. Some state that a person cannot go through life without eventually trusting someone else. Well, I’ve been doing just that for a very long time. And yes, I am unhappy, but if you want to sit there and tell me in all certainty that I would be happy having trusted others more, well... You don’t fucking know. And don’t forget about the fear. I’m in a bad spot here, and I’ve been typing such a statement for so long that it has become a lifestyle. That means I probably don’t realize the depth of this shit until interfacing with someone on the outside. The gradient becomes illuminated and my guard solidifies, meaning there cannot be a person in contact with me that sees me as I was a few years ago. 0903. I have the last cup of coffee next to me and will probably rise and begin my Sunday business very soon. I’ll have a few hours to myself, too, meaning time to think clearly and without distraction. Well, for all the good it may do, anyway. I have some dry cleaning and the usual garbage stuff, and I’d like to do some cleaning in the garage. My tools have been all greasy for days. The new engine is in the frame, along with the transmission, swingarm, brake caliper and rear wheel. I may end up disassembling much of it, too, if some parts are going to be replaced and/or upgraded. Either way, I don’t care. The work keeps my mind occupied some days. I typically embrace anything with the ability to keep my mind off the realm and subsequent deep depression. I may end up using all those tools again, but in the meantime I intend to straighten the area so I can keep my head organized... On one front, at least. There are other things I need to accomplish, too. Right now I have no idea if I’ll be capable of much by lunchtime or soon after. Ah, shit. There is Roxanne again. She is rising through the ranks of my desire. Her face, to be clear. Just the face. Always the face. Believe it. Anyway, the weather is quite warm and sunny this morning. Whatever I wish to do in the yards or garage will be eased as opposed to the last few months of low temperatures and much rain. 1136. My daily routine is out of the way and I have the second load of dry cleaning running. The weather is very warm right now, too. It’s nice to have the option of opening windows for fresh air because the last three months have been quite the opposite. From here forward, I need to consider lunch and whatever other work I’d like to complete prior to close of business hours. I do have to visit the small market for tonight’s protein and some cream for my morning coffee, so perhaps once the dry cleaning is finished I can take a drive to the back of the valley and get that chore out of the way. My mind has been occupied just as expected. I need to keep this train rolling until evening. The visions have attempted to invade my brain off and on this morning. That means the work has to continue or I shall fall again. I don’t want to become angry, yet the option is once lunch is finished, I can move to the garage and relax with some motorcycle work and music. The anger will build and then subside. The cycle of me, that is. I still need to lick Roxanne’s face until the cows come home. Damn it all, anyway. Desire is one of the perpetual tenets of life. Nothing is on the horizon, nor is anyone listening. If I don’t blow up inside, much work can be completed while the sun is warm. Cercei’s hair is so far beyond beautiful that it nearly offsets her fucking cunty, snooty attitude and icy, shitty ‘superior’ stance in life. Jesus fucking hell did they ever hit her appearance out of the park. Beware her words and facial expressions, however, because they will kill on sight. Heh. The hair is unreal, though. Really beautiful. A single square inch of Roxanne’s face puts the whole of Cersei to shame in milliseconds, too. I have an image which illustrates as much. Perhaps if I remain in acceptable spirits I can include it on the site. Right now I just don’t give a cold shit in hell. The morning alcohol has loosened me enough to move into my little empire and work on the bike. I shall return when the time is nigh. I think I had a dream about her but cannot be certain now. The morning business has muddied my thoughts and I believe some time will be required for me to clear my head and move along with the day. Regardless of whether or not I did indeed dream of that girl, I am halfway to sideways. Everything gets to me these days. I am too sensitive for the world and too fearful of the people in it. Eh... Fuck it all. I am pleased to have an entire Monday to myself and the space to think about everything. I probably won’t do much today beyond the usual chores, either. A trip to the hardware store may be in order if I feel like leaving the house, although it is not entirely necessary. I may spend a good portion of time right here at the control center in order to alter the site appearance. Right now I have the last cup of coffee and my program to the right. I am trying to avoid the sideways mood and related pitfalls that will doubtless accompany such a stance. Something that would be very nice right now is a pair of understanding ears. Nope. Knowing what is there does not help me. The daydreams continue to plague my waking hours and all of my will is required to avoid a fall. The little ones come and go, yet in the back of my mind I know there will be a far worse situation coming at me in the near future. I’ve seen enough to know that nothing in this world has the power to stop me from dreaming of her, and the more I do, the more my place in the world diminishes. Every glimpse is a step in the wrong direction, not to mention the overwhelming desire I already feel each and every day. The last few occasions are still driving me mad and there is nothing I can do about it. In and around my work today, I must find a way of compartmentalizing dreams, visions and the painted pictures born of my never-ending imagination. I’ve seen too much, no doubt, and all of it needs to be cooled right now. All of it. I wish someone was listening. I also wish I had not seen so much. My feelings changed last year and I don’t know how to deal with this shit. The dreams have become doctrine. 0928. I’ll begin to work on my routine very soon. The thought of working around the house with the second show keeping me company still warms me from the inside out. The weather is cool and overcast – likely all day long, I believe – so I probably won’t do much with the bike. My efforts shall heretofore remain indoors. Early this morning I was thinking that each day I should care for something beyond the norm, if only for peace of mind. I don’t need to tackle anything huge, only small items one at a time. Whatever I decide to do, it must be accomplished prior to lunch, as well. Afterward can be time for relaxation if I feel the need. Little things, such as when I walk by some aspect of the house that irritates me. Those are the tasks that become rewarding. Rather than walking by for the hundredth time, I’ll stop and deal with each one. As I said, nothing crazy. After some weeks of doing so, this house should be more comfortable and my head may find increased relaxation during the evenings. Well, here I sit at 1119 with my daily routine out of the way and exactly zero direction for the rest of the morning. Maybe I’ll seek another series to watch, or something. Right now I don’t have a clue as to how the rest of the day will proceed, however I will say that thus far this day is complete shit. Whatever changed last year (not the damaging dreams and subsequent altered mindset) gripped me again today and made me angry. I have some idea of how this came about, yet there is nothing else I can say here. I must keep certain information out of the public domain. If the anger builds, all of my information will be removed from the same. I just don’t care. None of this helps, anyway. Tuesday morning, 0755. I am not happy today. Yesterday continues to swirl inside my brain and it is forcing me to fall down and cease giving a shit about anything. I don’t like feeling this way, but there seems to be no recourse these days. Last year’s incident (or whatever the fuck changed) is on my mind every single day, related closely with the fracture, and is beginning to hold me back in life. Yes, in everything. Each aspect of my day is attached to thoughts that cannot be alleviated. Last night more of the difficulties came to mind and I became angry. Nothing developed, though, because I am intelligent enough to stifle my emotions and play out the role of a fairly ‘balanced’ person. All of my issues need to be organized, compacted and then shoved into a small space so no one can access them. My biggest problem right now is that shit from last year combined with memories. I have to push back the feelings related to my place in society after all these years or I’ll lose my mind. One thing at a time right now. Push back. Push hard. I can’t handle both. Fortunately, in my current situation, the fracture exists only inside me rather than anywhere else. That is good. Unfortunately, the other issue which illuminated itself last year is powerful enough to drive me straight into the ground. I mean that literally, too. Almost time for the last cup of coffee. I am so accustomed to being frustrated and unhappy that I can switch topics back and forth over and over without missing a syllable. Isn’t that peachy? I am already becoming irritated by everything today and I haven’t even finished the coffee. I’m sure the kitchen will feel nice and comfortable with my extended family in the background, but beyond that? I don’t know what will be ‘good’ versus ‘difficult’. Nothing seems fulfilling anymore because of the gaping holes inside me that doubtless will remain as such for the duration. Yesterday I did some cleaning late in the afternoon so the evening felt more comfortable. I suppose I can do the same today, although the way I feel right now is not helping me look forward to anything in life, not even the damned kitchen. My friends on the television never disappoint, though. They do not change because they’ve been frozen in time. I will say that the second show sends my head back to the glow more often than not, and particularly during the last few days due to the timeline of my current viewing. The episodes originally aired right smack dab in the middle of one of the best times of my entire life. With each passing line of dialog, I am sent back in time to when there was still hope and wonder, promise and possibility. Now? There is literally not a fucking item in life that feels even remotely close to all that shit. Maybe in the future I’ll be able to look back on this quiet time with fond memories. Right now I just don’t know due to all the pain of losing the way the world looked thirty years ago. I guess the only thing I can do is care for my daily business and see what develops throughout the next few hours. No matter how fucked up my head becomes at times, housework still needs to be accomplished to maintain quality of life in this little home. At least I still finish all my stuff each day. Better than nothing. There is that word again. Ugh. As of yet I have not edited any images for this entry. Perhaps they are meaningless anymore. Between the main two folders of images already displayed on the site, the total number is staggering. There are 1592 individual files supporting hundreds of essays, and that is not all of them. Other folders for certain parts of the site have not been counted. Maybe after all this time the point has been made. I don’t know. Recently, I’ve leaned toward the same model (as you have seen) but the subject is no longer blowing up my skirt. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I still yearn for her arms around me, but the fact is that her visage may not continue. Perhaps she’s been here too much and I need to find another direction. I don’t fucking know what to do most of the time. There are so many shots of bare breasts contained within this series that I don’t even see them anymore. Heh. Anyway, I may opt for nothing but text and dividers for a while to give the image searches a rest. And I need to lick Roxanne’s midsection. Just a thought. Don’t get me started on other parts of her beautiful anatomy. 0910. The coffee is nearly gone. That means I’ll soon transition to the housework and my friends on two televisions, along with a nice, fat fucking cocktail to calm my nerves. Beyond my daily routine, I have no clue as to how I will feel or what may seem appealing for work. Yesterday I pushed through the shit even after falling upon my sad face for the thousandth time and did some cleaning around the living room and bath. If I can do that again today, perhaps I won’t feel like shit during the evening. Little things, remember? At this point in the morning I still don’t know what will happen during the coming hours. Something, though. Good or bad, the time shall pass. Nothing stops the planet from turning; not even my broken heart. Little things, I guess. My world is so tiny these days that I still can’t believe it at times. 1036. The daily routine is finished and I have a nice drink next to me for the next hour or so. Two positives, yet right behind my eyes is a massive negative. Yep... The glow again. That period came to mind because the episode which kept me company through the housework aired at the beginning of ninety-one, right in the center of one of the best periods of my life. Damn it. The world was huge and full of mystery, wonder and possibilities. Now? All of that is gone. There are violent incidents on the news every day, people flipping the fuck out and shooting others, a war in the east that could turn global at the drop of a hat, and me sitting here completely helpless to find fulfillment in life. The gradient between the current date and that of the glowing years has never been more vast. It is fucking huge. I don’t like it. I don’t enjoy knowing that everything has become completely fucking dire and stupid. Dr. Melfi stated (more than twenty years ago) that we live in a ‘time of spiritual and technological crisis’. She was correct, and now here we are much further along the detrimental road of progress. I don’t even know how I made it this far, not to mention the fact that I felt the need to get the hell out of this place and relocate to the far north for no other reason than detachment from this backward, fucked-up society. Well, I am still right in the middle of everything and have so few options that my head may never recover from feeling helpless. No wonder I am a depressed alcoholic. The holes inside me often feel minuscule when held against the vast power of the state of the world. This is a lovely fucking clambake. The rest of the day is still up in the air. And sometimes I feel a deep-seated need to push cunty Cercei’s face through the back of her pretty head. God damn do I ever hate her character. But... What about Lena’s performance? Fantastic. She did not win enough awards in my opinion. Ok, all media-related bullshit aside, the day is my focus. I have to find some drive and work through this shit or I’ll come out the other side in worse shape than right now. Such a consideration is not very nice, to be sure. Sometimes when I feel this way during the mid-morning, I take a few minutes to head to the garage and absolutely attack the neighborhood with one song at stratospheric volume just to release some frustration. I can’t do anything about the realm, I can’t go back in time and drown into Ashley’s arms for comfort, nor can I return to the glow and feel the way I did all those fucking years ago, so the only outlet becomes a temporary lashing which accomplishes precisely nothing. Yep... Not a fucking thing. Nothing will change no matter my emotional state or desire, so my head directs the train of life into damaging behavior. No matter how many times I exercise the power of the garage audio system, the aftereffects are fucking pathetic. I am powerless in this world and when I lash, nothing comes of it. But I still do it just to feel that audio power for a few minutes. I know prior to the act that I’ll come out the other side exactly the same. The only result can be neighbors hearing my mood and such a fact is meaningless. Maybe I should drive to the hardware store and pick up chemicals to degrease the inner primary drive housing. All this work and the motorcycle isn’t even mine. I have rarely felt worse than I do at this very moment. I switched off the show because it was annoying me. A few songs are in order for the next little while before I do anything else. One of these days I will surpass the violent and depressive nature of the second cocktail and head toward the third. I shall embrace the wireless MDRs and spend some time in the backyard with the worst music imaginable blasting through those headphones and then finally blow my fucking brains out of my head. Preparations will be necessary prior to the shot. As of yet, I haven’t been willing to prepare everything, and that is the one reason I am still above ground. The ONLY reason. Believe it, motherfuckers. ‘Street after street; and night after night; I walk on through the rain, yes I walk on through the rain.’ Dead and/or dying thoughts. 1153. I don’t know what to do with the rest of this fucking day. My snap-ring pliers will be arriving this afternoon, meaning I can further disassemble the inner primary cover and clean it. Do I want to do all that work? Not really, but I will at some point. I typically do whatever is expected of me or perform those tasks that I state will be completed. Letting others down is not an option these days. Apparently, however, me being let down by anything doesn’t matter in the least. ‘Wrapped up in you; comforting me; I could die here.’ I don’t want this day to head downhill, yet inside I am feeling the need to make some kind of statement. ‘Our world will change for no one.’ 1433. Lunch is out of the way and I completed a load of laundry. I also went to the hardware store for some chemicals and then the market for a few staples. And yes, right there in the frozen food aisle was a form unequaled in recent history. She was very thin, fairly muscular, and appeared to be one of those examples of exquisite line structure. Well, as I moved past her from the rear (and oh, what a rear), I took the chance of glancing down and saw the gap which defines those radii. Wow. I had to get the fuck out of there and drive home before catching sight of such a genetic fluke walking out of the store. And speaking of driving, she drove me to drink. The foggy blue is in a large glass to my right. I have to wait for the degreaser to set in before going to the backyard for a second blast. My plan is to work on whatever I can with regard to the bike in order to force that woman to fade from my memory. I wish I hadn’t seen her, but at the same time I was gazing at a rarity. I don’t know what the fuck to do about this shit anymore. I keep imagining very picturesque situations from the past and they are making me angry. Massive segments of life having fallen away... The second spray is finished. I’ll have to hose off the housing in a bit and then allow time for it to dry in the sun. I don’t know how much the metal will benefit from such a treatment, but I do know that I have no wish to scrub the fucking thing until clean enough for some paint. Oh, boy... The fracture is apparent right now due to my choice of media. At least I am alone, like always. Anyway, other than the chaincase housing, the rest of my afternoon will be spent relaxing for the most part. I still don’t want to clean the outside of all the windows until I am certain we won’t be blasted by another storm. And Roxanne is driving me out of my fucking mind right now. Her face and shoulders are the stuff of dreams. Fuck. Shut up. Worship is unhealthy. So is everything else I do on a daily basis. Emilia’s eyes are big and beautiful, yet there is something nearby that is most decidedly off. I can’t put a fine point on it. The fracture has been illuminated again. I am alone, and being as such is the only saving throw versus the world. Her eyes have nothing to do with the fracture. I am the key. Time is the lock. There can be no real end to this shit. Ok, the chaincase housing is in the sun and drying. I don’t believe the inside of the rear is clean enough for spraying, meaning I’ll have to do some scrubbing after the fact. Eddard would swear loyalty to a pile of dog shit before that of the fuckface. Heh. I’ve seen this program too much in the last few years. Anyway, from here on out, my purpose is to take it easy until the time arrives for dinner preparations. I see no reason to get into any other work this afternoon because my head will not leave me at peace. No, not the woman in the market and her godly form, this is different. The issue relates to both the fracture and the realm, with a pinch of whatever changed last year to leave me believing that some aspects of life are now behind me, never to return. The anger cannot compare to such vast sadness. I begin each day sad, end up becoming angry due to the essay from seventeen, and then the anger subsides and I am left with the aforementioned sadness. The bike project can only provide so much distraction and will eventually be complete to the point of leaving my garage. I have much which can be done afterward, yet the most important issues will remain sans recourse. On the inside, nothing can be changed. At least the chaincase is mostly clean. That’s good enough for now and I don’t give a shit if it is otherwise. Language used as shield and weapon, indeed. I’ve been the subject of both, yet the former rules my sense of living. I cannot engage in the latter because I have an active conscience. Does my conscience matter? Do my feelings matter? What? To whom? Everything is gone. Half of me reels from the memory of feeling happy and the other half is full of holes. Tell me which part represents the priority. I am so sick of this shit that I want to skywrite it. Eh... Nothing would change. I would merely be the butt of jokes and the laughing stock of the city. No recourse. Out and up. Two different trajectories. One over there and the other over there. I am going to lose my mind completely, and finally. I can feel the hour approaching. I can smell the dirt. Worms. Lots of worms. I won’t feel anything. The imagery of the sinful realm does not leave my mind for a second these days. Not a fucking second. I see everything. I still see her. I need to see more. I need to gaze at her lines and the direction of those points. Out and up; up and out. The reference is in mind. IN. MIND. I already know. Recent sightings have jaded me beyond belief, but believe it. They are right over there. They are amazing. They are waiting. I am sullen. They are impossible. The damaging dreams continue their unrelenting wrath. They have broken me into pieces. The realm is the rule. She is the realm. She is an alteration from the past. I cannot go back. Let us continue downward. The dreams were born of the fracture because they do not obey its power. Ashley told me as much and I still believe her after all these years. Yesterday I made ketchup from scratch and it is delicious. The reason is Passover. I cannot employ the standard vinegar, thus I used a substitute and simmered the mixture for half an hour. Once cooled, we enjoyed it as a dipping sauce. This evening I will mix in some chipotle and spice it a bit. Potatoes will be cut into wedges and baked with seasonings and oil. Steak on the stove. Fresh cucumber and tomato combined with red onion tossed in olive oil and a hint of lemon. All of that will be dinner, and I’ll prepare everything with my glow-induced, extended family in the background. They will remind me of that wondrous time when the universe felt wide-open and the future was shining. And then I’ll be sad again, much like last night. We are still watching and following recent media that seems guided by methods for shocking the audience. The past was not as such, although having lived for decades with nothing on television really pushing the envelope, I would imagine keeping viewers interested required steps in bad directions. I feel that all of the shit on the news is quite bad enough already. We do not need more of it. The problem is that there does not seem to be any middle ground with regard to broadcast media. Either we choose children’s stories, or we delve into something at the other end of the scale. And comedy? No fucking way. What society finds humorous, I find insulting and demeaning. Hurtful. Given the choice, I’ll stick with drama and its inherent pitfalls. Society is skewed these days, due in large part to programming. Thankfully, I can still remain detached from the herd mentality. Today will likely mark close to one thousand in which one of the five series’ remains playing in the background. At least I know what to expect, and I know that the message (while not entirely necessary) will be positive. Shoot me. While I prepare dinner, those people will be on two screens and warming my heart. I don’t see anything wrong with being sensitive to others, no matter who they may be nor from where they hail. Again... Shoot me. Help us both. Wednesday morning. I have two ‘seconds’ right now; the cup of coffee and the show. I had to turn off the dragons for a while because some of the characters were beginning to irritate me. Yesterday I successfully broke out of the shit and took care of business in the afternoon, and during that period I began to feel much disdain for some of the scripting to which I’ve been subjected throughout the last two decades in general, and perhaps since last summer in particular. I’m pretty fucking sick of it. Anyway, I broke away and did my best to advance everything more than I had the previous day. This is a good thing. If I can keep pace, I may feel better by the end of the week. If not, well... I don’t care anyway. The morning is peaceful and quiet. Just what I need each day. Up and out; out and up. Did I mention those two phrases? They both relate to the house and the inside of my tired head. Going further means nothing. I have seen too much. 0809 is what I see on the clocks. I included Dwight’s classic image here because I admire him. The image is beautiful, and I believe there are two reasons: One is his facial expression and the other is the lack of color information. I’ve been captivated by the photo for years. I almost flipped the fuck out yesterday due to feelings of loss again; that time everything was centered upon memories. Sometimes I miss certain people or places. Sometimes I simply miss a feeling related to some situation. This morning I am recalling the acute sensation of knowing that all the enjoyment is gone. The topic crossed my mind yesterday and was caused by whatever took place last year that has since left me on the side of the road with no options. The anger turned to sadness, like always, yet underneath everything else was a glimpse of my dark future. Not good. Maybe the second show triggered all this shit because of the original airdates. I can’t know for sure, though. One certainty is that I daydream about those four years quite often and (unfortunately) compare them to the last decade. Comparison is natural, honestly, and I believe many do the same thing. The massive downside with this shit is that I am in a much worse position in life than I was years ago. I have fallen far from the period prior to moving here. I did not feel happy then and ran to wherever I calculated could provide me with what I needed. Well, that did not happen. I found myself detached from everyone and everything and backsliding like never before. Hence the running away, for sure. The conclusion is that I ruined myself and cannot go back and fix anything. When combined with the fucked-up nature of my head due to situations beyond my control, the result is me now residing in a place from which there is likely no escape. The main guest star in this episode has become more beautiful over time. I don’t know why her importance has increased, nor can I put a finger on why her beauty has caught me upside the head so many times throughout the last few years. One possibility is that her eyes appear perpetually sad, and that is something to which I’ve been drawn for a very long time. My brain switches back and forth from wanting to hold her to the reverse. Sometimes I need it so badly that I don’t feel as if I can make it through a given day without her arms around me. This is not an example of a balanced person. Remember what I said about the word ‘worship’? Yep, that term applies to far too much in this life. The woman on the screen is approaching such a term, too. Just another ‘not good’ in an already vast sea of trouble. ‘Steer me toward the deep end.‘ Holy crap is she ever gorgeous. I did not feel this way about her thirty years ago, either. No desire. And back then I thought her hair looked pretty funny. Again... No desire whatsoever. Only feelings within my heart. Not good. When she appears fearful, I fear for my own well-being. And no one is listening. Splendid. The heart being involved is much more dangerous than physical desire, believe me. Such a fact is indicative of much deeper issues. Isn’t that just wonderful? 0904 is on the clock and I have the last cup of coffee next to me, just below the video media. When the cup is empty, I suppose I’ll transition to my daily housework and move the show to the other two televisions (three if I become pissed off). God damn that woman is cute beyond words. Ugh. I need to stop commenting upon her. Shit on it, anyway. I am the highest order of basket cases these days, and there may be nothing I can do about any of it. Whatever. My routine will take over soon and then I’ll work on whatever seems best. Right now I have no clue as to what the latter may entail. I’m finding it more and more difficult to care about any of this crap. I suppose that is a natural reaction to saying the same things forty-seven different ways for many years. This is not a reference to the now-famous ‘remarkable forty-seven’ category of the canon. Just a thought. The time is now 1043 and my daily routine has been completed aside from the dishes drip-drying for a little while. My head blew up some time prior to rising from this chair to do my housework. Now I don’t feel as much like a person as I did before the issue gripped me. Thursday morning, 0701. Today may follow in yesterday’s footsteps. I never opened the garage for business and kept the front door locked all day. I did not wish to see or hear anyone else. Right now I feel disappointment in myself because of remaining stagnant yesterday, but at the same time I am finding it difficult to care. There is no agenda; no minimum. There are no guidelines. I answer to no one. Still, this is my home and I have to exert a bit of effort sometimes. I suppose yesterday there was nothing inside me capable of pushing. Today? The hour is far too early for me to speculate. Once the early business is finished, I’ll probably make a decision regarding whether or not to make something of this day or simply give up and fall by the wayside. I don’t know why I fell so far down yesterday. Maybe too much time had passed since the last time I spent the entire day closed up inside this house. I don’t like it. Today must be the switch from shit to gold. 0813. Part one of my typical weekday is finished. I have the first load of dry cleaning running and the plan is to continue with laundry unimpeded until it is completely out of the way. At roughly 1000 I will head over to the smoke shop and then a stop to pick up something for dinner tonight. Upon returning, I’ll see what else I can accomplish prior to lunch time. I may opt to skip the morning cocktail while working in the kitchen because despite how I feel about the inherent freedom and control it represents, the truth is the alcohol can make me lazy. That was probably a portion of what happened yesterday. I’ll give it a shot and see what develops. I have the second load of dry cleaning running right now and my last cup of coffee. The show is beginning to irritate me, too. I may have to switch to something else. Yesterday made me angry. I will not repeat any aspect of those hours. None. The second show now graces my right-hand display. This process of writing my thoughts has been useless for many years, yet I still sit here because it has become a habit. I suppose keeping a diary is common, too. I don’t know for sure because not only do I avoid people, but my experience and understanding tells me that most diaries are private. I’ll probably never know the truth. The fact is that I have been writing here more in the last five years than everything prior and I am so accustomed and connected to the process that to change at this point could be very difficult. Maybe the thought only came about because of the fact that I’ve been repeating myself, avoiding the title topics much of the time, and do not see the benefits any longer. I do enjoy typing, though. Perhaps I should return to the fictional endeavors rather than constantly complaining about everything which is unchangeable. Eh... I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if I am capable of changing anything these days. I’ve never felt so weakened and detached from life. For the time being, I suppose my path should be the status quo. Well, except for the effort of trying to accomplish little things above and beyond the norm. 0934. The dry cleaning is nearly finished. I have to maintain pace today or I fear I will fall into the same vat of depression, and I really can’t have that shit right now. One day was bad enough. We shall see if my brain can drive my body and break out of the din for a while. Sometimes the reward doesn’t seem commensurate with the work, although such a factor should not fucking matter to me after all these years. Even though the rewards for which I wish every day do not seem to exist anymore. The truth is that I must learn to embrace whatever comfort I can find. 1126 is on the little clock and I am proud of my efforts so far today. The dry cleaning is out of the way, I went to the smoke shop and market, and I completed my daily routine. I also have a load of laundry in the washer. Oh, the morning cocktail? Yeah... Fuck the idea of skipping it. An icy glass of the depressant is next to me and just below the second show on my right-hand display. The only issue thus far today was one hell of a form within the shopping center. I caught sight of her as I was doing my little ‘turn around the town’ after shopping. Jesus... The legs on that woman. Whatever. The positives are outweighing the negatives right now. I believe upon finishing the laundry and straightening somewhat, the prediction is that my evening will feel deserved; quite the opposite of yesterday. The yoga pants notwithstanding, this day has been rewarding and I am pleased with having found the drive to accomplish more than I have in recent weeks. This is very good, hence the fucking whiskey. Heh. Friday morning. I have a little bit of time before the morning chores. The dragons are next to me, along with coffee to clear the cobwebs from my head. I was very pleased with the efforts yesterday, meaning today shall entail a nice, long morning. I could use some relaxation. I also need one hell of a lot of time here at this editor. Everything I accomplished yesterday helped me to relax during the evening, and that is key these days. During the daytime hours, my comfort should be a simple affair, whereas the later hours need attention in order to shine. Last night I felt as much. Today will not matter because I need to be secure in the knowledge that I am going to survive this period, and sometimes that adds up to being completely isolated. The sun will hopefully not shine through my window without a bit of cloud cover. I like the blinds to remain open because the view provides a more open feeling while relaxing here. 0808 is on the clock right now and I have the rest of the day to myself. The morsel has faded a bit of late, but I have no doubt she will rise once again if I become weak (very likely; very soon). I need to think about this for a while. Perhaps I can make it through to afternoon time without becoming a complete fucking basket case. I don’t want to be upset all day long. I’m sure once I kick off the routine I will rise a bit because that always happens. There is a comfort inherent in that mid-morning routine that I probably can’t adequately describe here, much like when I begin to feel nostalgic for the glow and then attempt to convey the emotions that roll through me like ocean waves. Nope. I can’t do justice to either of them. At least I have some daily aspects of life which still bring me some enjoyment. I suppose such a fact is better than nothing. I can already sense my brain heading toward some type of fall this morning. This is not good, so once again I’ll need to push. I don’t like pushing. Not a bit. If I am to come out the other side of this day, something has to happen and I have to be the one to do it. Ugh. The rest of the shit in my head will need to take a pause, if such a thing is even possible, and that includes the girl. I don’t want that fucking sin all wrapped around my business today. When she gets in my head, I can’t move in any direction without a hint of falling down. I am fallen this morning, so perhaps she did her job, as did my past. Wonderful. The sun is breaking through and then hiding, effectively forcing me to deal with tremendous brightness and then shade. It’s driving me crazy so I have to close the blinds for a while. Oh boy. This morning is beginning to feel desperate. It is the same direction that sent me through the gate instead of driving to one of our facilities at NASA on that fateful morning. This is not a good situation and it often makes me so angry that nothing in or around the house can help lift me out of the pit. Due to completing so much yesterday, maybe I’ll head to the garage later and continue with the chaincase work. I don’t know if it will help, but at least I can straighten up everything out there after weeks of mess. Again... Better than nothing. I’ve not really felt like working out there much this week. I did degrease some parts the other day, but immediately afterward was enough boredom to offset the feeling of accomplishment. Anger is non-productive most of the time. I am fallen anyway, so maybe the garage will be my best path for accompanying this mood. I really don’t know of any other methods for coping with this shit these days. Running away would be excellent right now if the resources were in place. Nope. I am a hole in the world. The time is now 1046 and I am beginning to lose all direction. I completed most of the routine aside from allowing the dishes to drip-dry for a little while. I’ll probably finish off the kitchen at lunch time. I pushed through this shit yesterday, effectively setting aside all of my issues and completing much work, but right now I have no idea how I accomplished such a feat. Not every day need be to the limit, but for fuck’s sake... I could use a fucking boost right now and none seem to be available. My head is the likely cause, too. Going sideways so early in the day is bad all around, and if the past is any indication, there is nothing I can do about it other than ride the train through the storm and hope to come out the other side in better mental shape. The odds are not in my favor, unfortunately. That is the truth. Today may turn into a big pile of shit. I need to stop going back in time. The glow is long gone and cannot return, meaning when I embrace that beautiful period and then come back to reality, I end up one rung further down the ladder of this existence. The main issue is that I continue to compare the present with the past. There is no way to reproduce such a wonderful time, either, so the healthy choice is to leave it behind and focus upon what can actually be done to improve my state. God damn does Osha have huge eyes. She is scary, yet the eyes cannot be denied. Anyway, I am thankful that the video media can transport me up and away from the miserable process of realizing where I am in life. I really am. Perhaps in order to push the past away again, I should drown myself in the media for a while and relax about everything. Sitting here analyzing only dredges up more than I can usually handle. There is media on the right-hand display, always, yet due to my overt sensitivity to so many modern-era tenets, I can’t relax and enjoy while writing. The media runs in the background as I await the wondrous moments that make the stories worthwhile. Perhaps I truly am beyond repair. No one is listening, nor does any of this shit matter beyond the walls of my own consciousness. ‘How in the fuck would you know? Cunt.’ -- Me I uttered those words last night while watching what we’ve been following during the evenings and with dinner. That response to some dialog on the show forced me to realize that I’ve become even more jaded than I had previously calculated. I am angry inside all the time. Most of it remains hidden away, and as such only causes the occasional outburst, and a quiet one at that. But the fact remains that I feel so much disdain that it is bordering upon hatred. I know of the cause, too, and the line of dialog ain’t it. Sometimes I feel that my position here as having zero effect upon the rest of the world is the only way to live. I cannot have a positive influence upon anything these days. Well, probably for the rest of my life, really, however long that may be. There is a deep cut inside me that was caused by others, yet I did not realize until just a few years ago that such a cut has forced me to see more than I had in the past. The latter has made me not only a deviant soul, but a person filled with feelings that cannot be discussed out loud. Make of that what you will. I don’t care because unless someone barges into my tiny world, nothing can affect me. Only I can affect myself. I don’t want to be attacked, either. I need to be left alone, good or bad as it may be. I always say no one is listening. In the long run, they are better off, believe me. Any discussion will make me angry. I recall watching another series a few years ago, within which there had been an exchange between a married couple that angered me beyond belief. I will not spell it out, however, for fear of being labeled (like so many other aspects of my personality that must remain absent from this content). When something like that transpires, I feel more alone than during any other time. The reason is my penchant for engaging in conversation and leaving the other person completely void of responses. In short, I have the capacity to paint them into a corner every fucking time. The same type of difficulty did not take place last night because I have learned that dealing with my psyche is not easy for anyone. Instead, I utter a complaint and then leave the issue alone. It then fades into the past. I have a plan for the next steps on the bike. Once my morning cocktail is gone, I will probably have a light lunch and then work in the garage for a while. The music can keep me company. In the event that my diminishing mood continues in such a vein, the entire neighborhood will know well enough to remain at a distance from my garage door. I have yet to decide if the door will open or not. Right now I just don’t know what may be best. The title has been lost for now. Maybe the titles have been lacking in meaning for a while. I don’t know if they have ever been important. Perhaps I should only date the entries. Saturday morning. 0733. I have very little business today. The control center will probably receive lots of attention. The motorcycle, too. Time will tell. My door did indeed open yesterday. I was able to finish cleaning the chaincase, and after allowing it to thoroughly dry in the sun, sprayed two coats of paint. Now it is sitting on my bench with one new oil seal in place. I should be able to get it back on the engine and transmission later today. While out there, I also cleaned all my tools and put them where they belong. Very nice. I intend to relax here and gather my thoughts for a while before transitioning to the work area. The longer morning with no early chores helps me to think without my time being broken into smaller segments. I enjoy these weekend mornings (mostly). The clock seems to move along slowly, meaning there is little pressure upon my head most of the time. The schedule is under my control, something I believe you already know to be critically important. I’ve become accustomed to the difficulties inherent in the show we’ve been following during the evenings. Years ago I actually gave up on some good programs due to a specific aspect of the action. Dealing with the way they put those moments together became a hardship. The language is something I am simply not going to avoid if I am to branch out at all, so I decided to just sit there and take it. As for the action? That one will not change. I have never understood it, nor will I in the future. Once I realize that the scripting has been massaged in a very unreasonable direction for specific results, the show becomes nothing more than an enemy. The resulting mood is such that I begin to see what society has accomplished in this life, and then I cannot see straight. There is an aspect of the dialog which can send me into a tailspin, but it is very rare, thankfully. So, for the time being, anyway, everything can move along as it has. Perhaps I have learned to be patient with people being worthless and demonstrating their need for attention. Maybe. As I said above... Time will tell. I have to be careful with my tongue quite often because I know not how many other people might understand and/or identify with my anger. Well, I am in contact with perhaps four individuals these days, and but three in person, so maybe I need not be terribly concerned. The fact is no matter how many others may or may not be near me, the time could eventually arrive when I am in the company of more. Guiding my thoughts and considering my words are akin to using the turn signals in a car when no one else is in view. The process is a habit, and one may find they are ill-equipped to think clearly about rules (or what is important) if said habit is ignored for the most part and then only followed when required. Does that make sense? The habit means less chance of slip-ups. All this shit only means I need to be careful or one day I will run aslant of the wrong person and cause a big fucking problem. Regardless of my own inner level of acceptance regarding what took place within the video media scripting, I will remain alone in my thinking and find a lack of understanding for the way people consider the limits of society. No one is correct here, either. Not even me. I feel this way and have to keep my trap shut even though such analysis is educational and represents growth. I am still not ‘right’. I just feel it. So, when something comes along – such as the other night when I blurted my deference – the plan is to follow the habit and stay quiet. Such behavior could save me as well as the minds of others. Maybe. I could be overthinking all this shit. Whatever. I am unhappy with the manner in which society has driven the media into the fucking ground and cannot do anything about it. Due to the apathy and insensitivity of people, I have to alter my fucking behavior or risk being even more alone than I am right now. Splendid. Pissed off. No amount of fucking pants can fix it, either. I may never understand any of this shit. 0844. I didn’t have to close the blinds this morning thanks to the sky being overcast. I don’t know if this is better or not. Whatever. I saw some of those things right in front of me, others were further away. They were all real, though. Everything was real. Now? Nothing remains. Only memories and dreams. The sinful realm ebbs and flows; lately the former has taken me away from visions of her. They will return soon enough and catch me upside the head like always. There is nothing I can do to stop the dreams, nor can I simply shut off my desire. The last few occasions have cemented themselves to my consciousness and will not leave me alone. They do not fade, and that is in contrast to all the hundreds of visions out there in the world that come and go very quickly. The imagery eventually fades because I can only remember for so long. Even the pool girl is mostly gone, believe it or not. The sinful visions stay right there behind my eyes and taunt me as if to say ‘sorry, dipshit; none of this will ever belong to you, but you’ll continue to see.’ Wonderful. I can’t pull or push my way out of this realm, either. After last year and tons of supporting information injected into my tired brain, any recourse is either bullshit or gone for good. I will remain inside it for the duration. Those things I’ve seen? Gone, as well. There are only fantasies now. Memories, too. I was there. Now I am here. I am within the realm that is trying to best me. The time is now 0924 and I still have no clue as to how this day will proceed. My daily routine will not take much time, meaning if I wish to go beyond the norm, there will be the space to consider how best to proceed. The previous paragraph has my head all fucked over and twisted, so hopefully I can rise from it and perform work around the house without further issue. I really don’t like feeling this way at all. The time is now 0924 and I still have no clue as to how this day will proceed. My daily routine will not take much time, meaning if I wish to go beyond the norm, there will be the space to consider how best to proceed. The previous paragraph has my head all fucked over and twisted, so hopefully I can rise from it and perform work around the house without further issue. I really don’t like feeling this way at all. I’ve been floating along the same river and dealing with the pitfalls for so long that I no longer see another way to live. That is some very sad commentary. I suppose I’ll move away from this when the coffee is gone and work on my routine. After? I don’t fucking know. Like Tony said, ‘It’s all just a series of distractions until you die.’ I cannot disagree, although I still remember a couple of different periods in the past when I would have taken the opposite view of that statement. Not anymore. I really hope the other end of this day is comfortable. I could use it. Sunday morning. Coffee, cats fed, the show, all that shit. Sunday is perhaps my favorite day of the week now. The fact that today is the day is probably the most positive as possible after last night. I really need to embrace my Sunday and enjoy the business as much as I am able. Garbage, my kitchen, or whatever else I feel like doing. The evening became increasingly difficult due to the program we have been watching, yet not for reasons you might expect. I will say that my time living since the late eighties became all lined up inside my head and I began to realize a truth which is ugly. That is all I will say for now. The routine and other work today will help me to remain standing. My brain is full of information that I do not like. Yesterday I finally reinstalled the inner chaincase (twice, actually) with new oil seals and everything torqued to specifications. I am pleased with the work. I still need bushings before I can add the swingarm and get the bike off the jack, although my neighbor informed me yesterday that some of the parts should be arriving by Wednesday. In addition to the bike being fairly spread out all over the place, more items arrived from her parents’ house and the entire garage is now void of flat surfaces. I will have to take care of some organization out there today to ease my mind. In the space of less than two months, the garage has gone from nice and neat, as in ready for me to need the work space, to being completely out of order with no possibility for projects and repairs. I need to clean as many parts as I can and mount them on the motorcycle where they belong for reasons of calming my head. I realize this is all temporary, but still... I had a good thing going out there, like a sanctuary. I would imagine I can have the entire area in order by the end of this month. The temporary nature of such a project is part of what keeps me going. I enjoy assembling mechanical systems, too. At some point this will all be completed and the machine will be taken to the City for electrical work. Today is going to be a hardship due to what I recalled and felt last night. The program on the television was not the problem, only a catalyst that drove me to recall some things from the Midwest period, and some from shortly thereafter. All of my magazines came to mind, as did the daydreams I experienced during the second summer (I think). Escape from the doldrums and a very specific type of comfort were daily thoughts back then. Even moving forward in time eight years, the same dreams took me from myself and I wondered if I’d always be in the same position. There was a stark reference to something very specific which I had dreamed all those years ago and it started my brain on a different set of rails... Those with the end expected. Some twenty-odd years ago I ceased pursuing materials related to those dreams for reasons of self-preservation. They were driving me nuts and I guess I did not expect to be slapped in the face with such imagery after all this time. There have been many tiny references over time, yet nothing so detailed. At least I didn’t completely lose my shit. I am hoping the series does not head in a similar direction throughout the rest of its run. I really don’t need any more reminders of where I am. There was that first ‘thing’ some years ago. I couldn’t understand it, let alone fully describe the process. I felt the thing. Once, I even saw it, and was caught so off-guard that my brain was full of pain for weeks after the incident. Now I simply try to avoid the thoughts and imagery. That first thing is pretty old, too. It may date back more than thirty years. Even at my age, I still don’t understand it and most likely never will. A long time ago there was a conversation. The words were troubling and wonderful at the same time. They accomplished exactly nothing, however. There is no way to study or advance the reasoning behind the thing no matter the passage of time nor the minds involved. There is simply no way. Oh, but I have seen it. At the present, there is another thing. And another, from last year. I can’t talk about any of this shit in detail because no good can come of it. There has existed but one small set of ears, and they are gone. The issues within this fucked up paragraph are the true reasons for everything over which I have found turmoil throughout the last three years, or since the writing ramped up to its current level. ‘This, that and the other’, perhaps. Three items, three years. Two of them popped up just last year, and the other has been around much longer. That ‘thing’ is dreamy and improbable; mysterious and beautiful. And the other two? They bring me to my knees quite often. And then there is the realm." This site contains mature content Created by REN in Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 Copyright ©2002-2024 Brandywine Engineering All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Questions? Comments? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the assholes in charge
April 16th, 2023 8:36am pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning. The Sinful Realm III read ( words) "0831. I can already feel my head beginning to go sideways this morning. I may have to hop to my housework sooner rather than waiting until the coffee is gone. I have to keep myself distracted in order to avoid a disastrous day. Between the sinful thoughts and that fucking imagery that smacked me upside the head yesterday, all of my strength may be required to force this day into being something productive and positive rather than a pit of despair. I can’t remove anything bad from my head, so the only option is pushing it back... Suppression is not the best method, yet I don’t know what else to do. Perhaps if someone was listening, they could offer alternatives. No one is there. I am completely alone in this. Maybe Roxanne will show up at my door so I can lick her face. Contrary to what others may believe, I do not enjoy being angry. I am beginning to feel that I can make something of this day. The last cup of coffee is next to me and my head is calculating moves for the post-routine period. ‘Amor non est’, indeed. I am starting to look at the world and its inherent machinations differently. Long-held beliefs and standards of life are fading away. I’ll have to finish this cup and head into work before too long. Sunday morning has arrived on the heels of a decent Saturday. I completed lots of work on the bike. I also took care of my usual stuff around the house without issue. Keeping busy for such a vast amount of time meant my brain allowed some information to fall away and also fortified my head enough to relax about this life for a while. I didn’t see her face (or anything else) inside my brain for hours. That felt really good. This morning? Not too bad so far, although the shit from last year keeps popping in and attempting to completely derail me this early. I can’t have that today. The typical shows will follow me in favor of anything risky, such as the big three. Downhill. These days are filled with the overly-enjoyable feeling of working in the kitchen with my friends in the background as offset by the damaging daydreams of impossible situations. One of them came to me in the middle of the night, too. Between the up and down, there is my ever-loving netherworld of mental and emotional battles and fear combined with brief flashes of light and dark, the latter being a dream of making everything go away. This may mean I’ve been ‘manic’ for a long time and didn’t realize until recently due to the effects being subdued and the shallow nature of not having been fully diagnosed with any aspect of this condition being toward the positive. Quite the reverse, actually, and that was a long time ago. Right around the same time as when I ran to Juliette and drowned myself into her blouse and our little, temporary world. The doctor did not mince words and the record follows me to this very day. I think about all of it sometimes when my mood shifts quickly from one end of the scale to the other, and often when I find myself standing still just an hour after formulating a good plan for my time. Yesterday I remained in the ‘up’ position for quite a while, and regardless of the work, enjoyments, or plans for the coming days and weeks, I see and feel an overall downward trajectory which is taking a set inside my head for the long haul. I consider my place in the world whenever the media or other reminders hit me with the past (yesterday it was the second show), and when I look back twenty years, I see myself as occupying higher ground. Cut to a few years later and I found myself even further up and in a place I could never have predicted. Now? I have the transmission set in perpetual reverse because of the main two factors of my decisions over the years in general, and the most recent three in particular. My situation and condition have combined to represent and illuminate the lowest position I have ever held in this life. I am not proud of this, either. Everything feels far away right now. Very far, indeed. ‘Longitudo magna’. Yep. Had someone told me years ago that I would be here in the future, I probably would have agreed at least a little. My record stands on its own. I knew, and I fulfilled the circles when the time came for disruption. I still don’t know why, though. I have no fucking clue, but I am here nonetheless. The battle between moving forward and giving up has never been more evenly-matched. This feeling of perpetual depression forces me to return to the ‘keywords’ almost every day; specifically one massive word that I still cannot define. The downhill slide has greatly diminished my estimation of other people, and to be fair, that means I must look at myself, as well. None of this shit has much to do with the realm, although I will say that when I think of such a place I am forced to believe that my mindset changed so much last year that the idea of someone with the ability to ‘save’ me appears differently now than prior to me being altered against my wishes. I don’t even care if this crap makes sense. The realm is related to the slide, the slide had been caused by beauty, and my obsession was forged by a yearning for the right type of understanding. There you go. Unravel that one. No respite. None. Hmm... Maybe my present condition is directly related to the realm. Perhaps the feelings that came about inside me last year were inevitable. Things change, I guess. Things have changed. I don’t believe people see me as they did some years ago. I really don’t, yet I can’t be certain because I don’t talk to anyone these days. The suspicion has been born of a combination of fear and distrust. Some state that a person cannot go through life without eventually trusting someone else. Well, I’ve been doing just that for a very long time. And yes, I am unhappy, but if you want to sit there and tell me in all certainty that I would be happy having trusted others more, well... You don’t fucking know. And don’t forget about the fear. I’m in a bad spot here, and I’ve been typing such a statement for so long that it has become a lifestyle. That means I probably don’t realize the depth of this shit until interfacing with someone on the outside. The gradient becomes illuminated and my guard solidifies, meaning there cannot be a person in contact with me that sees me as I was a few years ago. 0903. I have the last cup of coffee next to me and will probably rise and begin my Sunday business very soon. I’ll have a few hours to myself, too, meaning time to think clearly and without distraction. Well, for all the good it may do, anyway. I have some dry cleaning and the usual garbage stuff, and I’d like to do some cleaning in the garage. My tools have been all greasy for days. The new engine is in the frame, along with the transmission, swingarm, brake caliper and rear wheel. I may end up disassembling much of it, too, if some parts are going to be replaced and/or upgraded. Either way, I don’t care. The work keeps my mind occupied some days. I typically embrace anything with the ability to keep my mind off the realm and subsequent deep depression. I may end up using all those tools again, but in the meantime I intend to straighten the area so I can keep my head organized... On one front, at least. There are other things I need to accomplish, too. Right now I have no idea if I’ll be capable of much by lunchtime or soon after. Ah, shit. There is Roxanne again. She is rising through the ranks of my desire. Her face, to be clear. Just the face. Always the face. Believe it. Anyway, the weather is quite warm and sunny this morning. Whatever I wish to do in the yards or garage will be eased as opposed to the last few months of low temperatures and much rain. 1136. My daily routine is out of the way and I have the second load of dry cleaning running. The weather is very warm right now, too. It’s nice to have the option of opening windows for fresh air because the last three months have been quite the opposite. From here forward, I need to consider lunch and whatever other work I’d like to complete prior to close of business hours. I do have to visit the small market for tonight’s protein and some cream for my morning coffee, so perhaps once the dry cleaning is finished I can take a drive to the back of the valley and get that chore out of the way. My mind has been occupied just as expected. I need to keep this train rolling until evening. The visions have attempted to invade my brain off and on this morning. That means the work has to continue or I shall fall again. I don’t want to become angry, yet the option is once lunch is finished, I can move to the garage and relax with some motorcycle work and music. The anger will build and then subside. The cycle of me, that is. I still need to lick Roxanne’s face until the cows come home. Damn it all, anyway. Desire is one of the perpetual tenets of life. Nothing is on the horizon, nor is anyone listening. If I don’t blow up inside, much work can be completed while the sun is warm. Cercei’s hair is so far beyond beautiful that it nearly offsets her fucking cunty, snooty attitude and icy, shitty ‘superior’ stance in life. Jesus fucking hell did they ever hit her appearance out of the park. Beware her words and facial expressions, however, because they will kill on sight. Heh. The hair is unreal, though. Really beautiful. A single square inch of Roxanne’s face puts the whole of Cersei to shame in milliseconds, too. I have an image which illustrates as much. Perhaps if I remain in acceptable spirits I can include it on the site. Right now I just don’t give a cold shit in hell. The morning alcohol has loosened me enough to move into my little empire and work on the bike. I shall return when the time is nigh. I think I had a dream about her but cannot be certain now. The morning business has muddied my thoughts and I believe some time will be required for me to clear my head and move along with the day. Regardless of whether or not I did indeed dream of that girl, I am halfway to sideways. Everything gets to me these days. I am too sensitive for the world and too fearful of the people in it. Eh... Fuck it all. I am pleased to have an entire Monday to myself and the space to think about everything. I probably won’t do much today beyond the usual chores, either. A trip to the hardware store may be in order if I feel like leaving the house, although it is not entirely necessary. I may spend a good portion of time right here at the control center in order to alter the site appearance. Right now I have the last cup of coffee and my program to the right. I am trying to avoid the sideways mood and related pitfalls that will doubtless accompany such a stance. Something that would be very nice right now is a pair of understanding ears. Nope. Knowing what is there does not help me. The daydreams continue to plague my waking hours and all of my will is required to avoid a fall. The little ones come and go, yet in the back of my mind I know there will be a far worse situation coming at me in the near future. I’ve seen enough to know that nothing in this world has the power to stop me from dreaming of her, and the more I do, the more my place in the world diminishes. Every glimpse is a step in the wrong direction, not to mention the overwhelming desire I already feel each and every day. The last few occasions are still driving me mad and there is nothing I can do about it. In and around my work today, I must find a way of compartmentalizing dreams, visions and the painted pictures born of my never-ending imagination. I’ve seen too much, no doubt, and all of it needs to be cooled right now. All of it. I wish someone was listening. I also wish I had not seen so much. My feelings changed last year and I don’t know how to deal with this shit. The dreams have become doctrine. 0928. I’ll begin to work on my routine very soon. The thought of working around the house with the second show keeping me company still warms me from the inside out. The weather is cool and overcast – likely all day long, I believe – so I probably won’t do much with the bike. My efforts shall heretofore remain indoors. Early this morning I was thinking that each day I should care for something beyond the norm, if only for peace of mind. I don’t need to tackle anything huge, only small items one at a time. Whatever I decide to do, it must be accomplished prior to lunch, as well. Afterward can be time for relaxation if I feel the need. Little things, such as when I walk by some aspect of the house that irritates me. Those are the tasks that become rewarding. Rather than walking by for the hundredth time, I’ll stop and deal with each one. As I said, nothing crazy. After some weeks of doing so, this house should be more comfortable and my head may find increased relaxation during the evenings. Well, here I sit at 1119 with my daily routine out of the way and exactly zero direction for the rest of the morning. Maybe I’ll seek another series to watch, or something. Right now I don’t have a clue as to how the rest of the day will proceed, however I will say that thus far this day is complete shit. Whatever changed last year (not the damaging dreams and subsequent altered mindset) gripped me again today and made me angry. I have some idea of how this came about, yet there is nothing else I can say here. I must keep certain information out of the public domain. If the anger builds, all of my information will be removed from the same. I just don’t care. None of this helps, anyway. Tuesday morning, 0755. I am not happy today. Yesterday continues to swirl inside my brain and it is forcing me to fall down and cease giving a shit about anything. I don’t like feeling this way, but there seems to be no recourse these days. Last year’s incident (or whatever the fuck changed) is on my mind every single day, related closely with the fracture, and is beginning to hold me back in life. Yes, in everything. Each aspect of my day is attached to thoughts that cannot be alleviated. Last night more of the difficulties came to mind and I became angry. Nothing developed, though, because I am intelligent enough to stifle my emotions and play out the role of a fairly ‘balanced’ person. All of my issues need to be organized, compacted and then shoved into a small space so no one can access them. My biggest problem right now is that shit from last year combined with memories. I have to push back the feelings related to my place in society after all these years or I’ll lose my mind. One thing at a time right now. Push back. Push hard. I can’t handle both. Fortunately, in my current situation, the fracture exists only inside me rather than anywhere else. That is good. Unfortunately, the other issue which illuminated itself last year is powerful enough to drive me straight into the ground. I mean that literally, too. Almost time for the last cup of coffee. I am so accustomed to being frustrated and unhappy that I can switch topics back and forth over and over without missing a syllable. Isn’t that peachy? I am already becoming irritated by everything today and I haven’t even finished the coffee. I’m sure the kitchen will feel nice and comfortable with my extended family in the background, but beyond that? I don’t know what will be ‘good’ versus ‘difficult’. Nothing seems fulfilling anymore because of the gaping holes inside me that doubtless will remain as such for the duration. Yesterday I did some cleaning late in the afternoon so the evening felt more comfortable. I suppose I can do the same today, although the way I feel right now is not helping me look forward to anything in life, not even the damned kitchen. My friends on the television never disappoint, though. They do not change because they’ve been frozen in time. I will say that the second show sends my head back to the glow more often than not, and particularly during the last few days due to the timeline of my current viewing. The episodes originally aired right smack dab in the middle of one of the best times of my entire life. With each passing line of dialog, I am sent back in time to when there was still hope and wonder, promise and possibility. Now? There is literally not a fucking item in life that feels even remotely close to all that shit. Maybe in the future I’ll be able to look back on this quiet time with fond memories. Right now I just don’t know due to all the pain of losing the way the world looked thirty years ago. I guess the only thing I can do is care for my daily business and see what develops throughout the next few hours. No matter how fucked up my head becomes at times, housework still needs to be accomplished to maintain quality of life in this little home. At least I still finish all my stuff each day. Better than nothing. There is that word again. Ugh. As of yet I have not edited any images for this entry. Perhaps they are meaningless anymore. Between the main two folders of images already displayed on the site, the total number is staggering. There are 1592 individual files supporting hundreds of essays, and that is not all of them. Other folders for certain parts of the site have not been counted. Maybe after all this time the point has been made. I don’t know. Recently, I’ve leaned toward the same model (as you have seen) but the subject is no longer blowing up my skirt. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I still yearn for her arms around me, but the fact is that her visage may not continue. Perhaps she’s been here too much and I need to find another direction. I don’t fucking know what to do most of the time. There are so many shots of bare breasts contained within this series that I don’t even see them anymore. Heh. Anyway, I may opt for nothing but text and dividers for a while to give the image searches a rest. And I need to lick Roxanne’s midsection. Just a thought. Don’t get me started on other parts of her beautiful anatomy. 0910. The coffee is nearly gone. That means I’ll soon transition to the housework and my friends on two televisions, along with a nice, fat fucking cocktail to calm my nerves. Beyond my daily routine, I have no clue as to how I will feel or what may seem appealing for work. Yesterday I pushed through the shit even after falling upon my sad face for the thousandth time and did some cleaning around the living room and bath. If I can do that again today, perhaps I won’t feel like shit during the evening. Little things, remember? At this point in the morning I still don’t know what will happen during the coming hours. Something, though. Good or bad, the time shall pass. Nothing stops the planet from turning; not even my broken heart. Little things, I guess. My world is so tiny these days that I still can’t believe it at times. 1036. The daily routine is finished and I have a nice drink next to me for the next hour or so. Two positives, yet right behind my eyes is a massive negative. Yep... The glow again. That period came to mind because the episode which kept me company through the housework aired at the beginning of ninety-one, right in the center of one of the best periods of my life. Damn it. The world was huge and full of mystery, wonder and possibilities. Now? All of that is gone. There are violent incidents on the news every day, people flipping the fuck out and shooting others, a war in the east that could turn global at the drop of a hat, and me sitting here completely helpless to find fulfillment in life. The gradient between the current date and that of the glowing years has never been more vast. It is fucking huge. I don’t like it. I don’t enjoy knowing that everything has become completely fucking dire and stupid. Dr. Melfi stated (more than twenty years ago) that we live in a ‘time of spiritual and technological crisis’. She was correct, and now here we are much further along the detrimental road of progress. I don’t even know how I made it this far, not to mention the fact that I felt the need to get the hell out of this place and relocate to the far north for no other reason than detachment from this backward, fucked-up society. Well, I am still right in the middle of everything and have so few options that my head may never recover from feeling helpless. No wonder I am a depressed alcoholic. The holes inside me often feel minuscule when held against the vast power of the state of the world. This is a lovely fucking clambake. The rest of the day is still up in the air. And sometimes I feel a deep-seated need to push cunty Cercei’s face through the back of her pretty head. God damn do I ever hate her character. But... What about Lena’s performance? Fantastic. She did not win enough awards in my opinion. Ok, all media-related bullshit aside, the day is my focus. I have to find some drive and work through this shit or I’ll come out the other side in worse shape than right now. Such a consideration is not very nice, to be sure. Sometimes when I feel this way during the mid-morning, I take a few minutes to head to the garage and absolutely attack the neighborhood with one song at stratospheric volume just to release some frustration. I can’t do anything about the realm, I can’t go back in time and drown into Ashley’s arms for comfort, nor can I return to the glow and feel the way I did all those fucking years ago, so the only outlet becomes a temporary lashing which accomplishes precisely nothing. Yep... Not a fucking thing. Nothing will change no matter my emotional state or desire, so my head directs the train of life into damaging behavior. No matter how many times I exercise the power of the garage audio system, the aftereffects are fucking pathetic. I am powerless in this world and when I lash, nothing comes of it. But I still do it just to feel that audio power for a few minutes. I know prior to the act that I’ll come out the other side exactly the same. The only result can be neighbors hearing my mood and such a fact is meaningless. Maybe I should drive to the hardware store and pick up chemicals to degrease the inner primary drive housing. All this work and the motorcycle isn’t even mine. I have rarely felt worse than I do at this very moment. I switched off the show because it was annoying me. A few songs are in order for the next little while before I do anything else. One of these days I will surpass the violent and depressive nature of the second cocktail and head toward the third. I shall embrace the wireless MDRs and spend some time in the backyard with the worst music imaginable blasting through those headphones and then finally blow my fucking brains out of my head. Preparations will be necessary prior to the shot. As of yet, I haven’t been willing to prepare everything, and that is the one reason I am still above ground. The ONLY reason. Believe it, motherfuckers. ‘Street after street; and night after night; I walk on through the rain, yes I walk on through the rain.’ Dead and/or dying thoughts. 1153. I don’t know what to do with the rest of this fucking day. My snap-ring pliers will be arriving this afternoon, meaning I can further disassemble the inner primary cover and clean it. Do I want to do all that work? Not really, but I will at some point. I typically do whatever is expected of me or perform those tasks that I state will be completed. Letting others down is not an option these days. Apparently, however, me being let down by anything doesn’t matter in the least. ‘Wrapped up in you; comforting me; I could die here.’ I don’t want this day to head downhill, yet inside I am feeling the need to make some kind of statement. ‘Our world will change for no one.’ 1433. Lunch is out of the way and I completed a load of laundry. I also went to the hardware store for some chemicals and then the market for a few staples. And yes, right there in the frozen food aisle was a form unequaled in recent history. She was very thin, fairly muscular, and appeared to be one of those examples of exquisite line structure. Well, as I moved past her from the rear (and oh, what a rear), I took the chance of glancing down and saw the gap which defines those radii. Wow. I had to get the fuck out of there and drive home before catching sight of such a genetic fluke walking out of the store. And speaking of driving, she drove me to drink. The foggy blue is in a large glass to my right. I have to wait for the degreaser to set in before going to the backyard for a second blast. My plan is to work on whatever I can with regard to the bike in order to force that woman to fade from my memory. I wish I hadn’t seen her, but at the same time I was gazing at a rarity. I don’t know what the fuck to do about this shit anymore. I keep imagining very picturesque situations from the past and they are making me angry. Massive segments of life having fallen away... The second spray is finished. I’ll have to hose off the housing in a bit and then allow time for it to dry in the sun. I don’t know how much the metal will benefit from such a treatment, but I do know that I have no wish to scrub the fucking thing until clean enough for some paint. Oh, boy... The fracture is apparent right now due to my choice of media. At least I am alone, like always. Anyway, other than the chaincase housing, the rest of my afternoon will be spent relaxing for the most part. I still don’t want to clean the outside of all the windows until I am certain we won’t be blasted by another storm. And Roxanne is driving me out of my fucking mind right now. Her face and shoulders are the stuff of dreams. Fuck. Shut up. Worship is unhealthy. So is everything else I do on a daily basis. Emilia’s eyes are big and beautiful, yet there is something nearby that is most decidedly off. I can’t put a fine point on it. The fracture has been illuminated again. I am alone, and being as such is the only saving throw versus the world. Her eyes have nothing to do with the fracture. I am the key. Time is the lock. There can be no real end to this shit. Ok, the chaincase housing is in the sun and drying. I don’t believe the inside of the rear is clean enough for spraying, meaning I’ll have to do some scrubbing after the fact. Eddard would swear loyalty to a pile of dog shit before that of the fuckface. Heh. I’ve seen this program too much in the last few years. Anyway, from here on out, my purpose is to take it easy until the time arrives for dinner preparations. I see no reason to get into any other work this afternoon because my head will not leave me at peace. No, not the woman in the market and her godly form, this is different. The issue relates to both the fracture and the realm, with a pinch of whatever changed last year to leave me believing that some aspects of life are now behind me, never to return. The anger cannot compare to such vast sadness. I begin each day sad, end up becoming angry due to the essay from seventeen, and then the anger subsides and I am left with the aforementioned sadness. The bike project can only provide so much distraction and will eventually be complete to the point of leaving my garage. I have much which can be done afterward, yet the most important issues will remain sans recourse. On the inside, nothing can be changed. At least the chaincase is mostly clean. That’s good enough for now and I don’t give a shit if it is otherwise. Language used as shield and weapon, indeed. I’ve been the subject of both, yet the former rules my sense of living. I cannot engage in the latter because I have an active conscience. Does my conscience matter? Do my feelings matter? What? To whom? Everything is gone. Half of me reels from the memory of feeling happy and the other half is full of holes. Tell me which part represents the priority. I am so sick of this shit that I want to skywrite it. Eh... Nothing would change. I would merely be the butt of jokes and the laughing stock of the city. No recourse. Out and up. Two different trajectories. One over there and the other over there. I am going to lose my mind completely, and finally. I can feel the hour approaching. I can smell the dirt. Worms. Lots of worms. I won’t feel anything. The imagery of the sinful realm does not leave my mind for a second these days. Not a fucking second. I see everything. I still see her. I need to see more. I need to gaze at her lines and the direction of those points. Out and up; up and out. The reference is in mind. IN. MIND. I already know. Recent sightings have jaded me beyond belief, but believe it. They are right over there. They are amazing. They are waiting. I am sullen. They are impossible. The damaging dreams continue their unrelenting wrath. They have broken me into pieces. The realm is the rule. She is the realm. She is an alteration from the past. I cannot go back. Let us continue downward. The dreams were born of the fracture because they do not obey its power. Ashley told me as much and I still believe her after all these years. Yesterday I made ketchup from scratch and it is delicious. The reason is Passover. I cannot employ the standard vinegar, thus I used a substitute and simmered the mixture for half an hour. Once cooled, we enjoyed it as a dipping sauce. This evening I will mix in some chipotle and spice it a bit. Potatoes will be cut into wedges and baked with seasonings and oil. Steak on the stove. Fresh cucumber and tomato combined with red onion tossed in olive oil and a hint of lemon. All of that will be dinner, and I’ll prepare everything with my glow-induced, extended family in the background. They will remind me of that wondrous time when the universe felt wide-open and the future was shining. And then I’ll be sad again, much like last night. We are still watching and following recent media that seems guided by methods for shocking the audience. The past was not as such, although having lived for decades with nothing on television really pushing the envelope, I would imagine keeping viewers interested required steps in bad directions. I feel that all of the shit on the news is quite bad enough already. We do not need more of it. The problem is that there does not seem to be any middle ground with regard to broadcast media. Either we choose children’s stories, or we delve into something at the other end of the scale. And comedy? No fucking way. What society finds humorous, I find insulting and demeaning. Hurtful. Given the choice, I’ll stick with drama and its inherent pitfalls. Society is skewed these days, due in large part to programming. Thankfully, I can still remain detached from the herd mentality. Today will likely mark close to one thousand in which one of the five series’ remains playing in the background. At least I know what to expect, and I know that the message (while not entirely necessary) will be positive. Shoot me. While I prepare dinner, those people will be on two screens and warming my heart. I don’t see anything wrong with being sensitive to others, no matter who they may be nor from where they hail. Again... Shoot me. Help us both. Wednesday morning. I have two ‘seconds’ right now; the cup of coffee and the show. I had to turn off the dragons for a while because some of the characters were beginning to irritate me. Yesterday I successfully broke out of the shit and took care of business in the afternoon, and during that period I began to feel much disdain for some of the scripting to which I’ve been subjected throughout the last two decades in general, and perhaps since last summer in particular. I’m pretty fucking sick of it. Anyway, I broke away and did my best to advance everything more than I had the previous day. This is a good thing. If I can keep pace, I may feel better by the end of the week. If not, well... I don’t care anyway. The morning is peaceful and quiet. Just what I need each day. Up and out; out and up. Did I mention those two phrases? They both relate to the house and the inside of my tired head. Going further means nothing. I have seen too much. 0809 is what I see on the clocks. I included Dwight’s classic image here because I admire him. The image is beautiful, and I believe there are two reasons: One is his facial expression and the other is the lack of color information. I’ve been captivated by the photo for years. I almost flipped the fuck out yesterday due to feelings of loss again; that time everything was centered upon memories. Sometimes I miss certain people or places. Sometimes I simply miss a feeling related to some situation. This morning I am recalling the acute sensation of knowing that all the enjoyment is gone. The topic crossed my mind yesterday and was caused by whatever took place last year that has since left me on the side of the road with no options. The anger turned to sadness, like always, yet underneath everything else was a glimpse of my dark future. Not good. Maybe the second show triggered all this shit because of the original airdates. I can’t know for sure, though. One certainty is that I daydream about those four years quite often and (unfortunately) compare them to the last decade. Comparison is natural, honestly, and I believe many do the same thing. The massive downside with this shit is that I am in a much worse position in life than I was years ago. I have fallen far from the period prior to moving here. I did not feel happy then and ran to wherever I calculated could provide me with what I needed. Well, that did not happen. I found myself detached from everyone and everything and backsliding like never before. Hence the running away, for sure. The conclusion is that I ruined myself and cannot go back and fix anything. When combined with the fucked-up nature of my head due to situations beyond my control, the result is me now residing in a place from which there is likely no escape. The main guest star in this episode has become more beautiful over time. I don’t know why her importance has increased, nor can I put a finger on why her beauty has caught me upside the head so many times throughout the last few years. One possibility is that her eyes appear perpetually sad, and that is something to which I’ve been drawn for a very long time. My brain switches back and forth from wanting to hold her to the reverse. Sometimes I need it so badly that I don’t feel as if I can make it through a given day without her arms around me. This is not an example of a balanced person. Remember what I said about the word ‘worship’? Yep, that term applies to far too much in this life. The woman on the screen is approaching such a term, too. Just another ‘not good’ in an already vast sea of trouble. ‘Steer me toward the deep end.‘ Holy crap is she ever gorgeous. I did not feel this way about her thirty years ago, either. No desire. And back then I thought her hair looked pretty funny. Again... No desire whatsoever. Only feelings within my heart. Not good. When she appears fearful, I fear for my own well-being. And no one is listening. Splendid. The heart being involved is much more dangerous than physical desire, believe me. Such a fact is indicative of much deeper issues. Isn’t that just wonderful? 0904 is on the clock and I have the last cup of coffee next to me, just below the video media. When the cup is empty, I suppose I’ll transition to my daily housework and move the show to the other two televisions (three if I become pissed off). God damn that woman is cute beyond words. Ugh. I need to stop commenting upon her. Shit on it, anyway. I am the highest order of basket cases these days, and there may be nothing I can do about any of it. Whatever. My routine will take over soon and then I’ll work on whatever seems best. Right now I have no clue as to what the latter may entail. I’m finding it more and more difficult to care about any of this crap. I suppose that is a natural reaction to saying the same things forty-seven different ways for many years. This is not a reference to the now-famous ‘remarkable forty-seven’ category of the canon. Just a thought. The time is now 1043 and my daily routine has been completed aside from the dishes drip-drying for a little while. My head blew up some time prior to rising from this chair to do my housework. Now I don’t feel as much like a person as I did before the issue gripped me. Thursday morning, 0701. Today may follow in yesterday’s footsteps. I never opened the garage for business and kept the front door locked all day. I did not wish to see or hear anyone else. Right now I feel disappointment in myself because of remaining stagnant yesterday, but at the same time I am finding it difficult to care. There is no agenda; no minimum. There are no guidelines. I answer to no one. Still, this is my home and I have to exert a bit of effort sometimes. I suppose yesterday there was nothing inside me capable of pushing. Today? The hour is far too early for me to speculate. Once the early business is finished, I’ll probably make a decision regarding whether or not to make something of this day or simply give up and fall by the wayside. I don’t know why I fell so far down yesterday. Maybe too much time had passed since the last time I spent the entire day closed up inside this house. I don’t like it. Today must be the switch from shit to gold. 0813. Part one of my typical weekday is finished. I have the first load of dry cleaning running and the plan is to continue with laundry unimpeded until it is completely out of the way. At roughly 1000 I will head over to the smoke shop and then a stop to pick up something for dinner tonight. Upon returning, I’ll see what else I can accomplish prior to lunch time. I may opt to skip the morning cocktail while working in the kitchen because despite how I feel about the inherent freedom and control it represents, the truth is the alcohol can make me lazy. That was probably a portion of what happened yesterday. I’ll give it a shot and see what develops. I have the second load of dry cleaning running right now and my last cup of coffee. The show is beginning to irritate me, too. I may have to switch to something else. Yesterday made me angry. I will not repeat any aspect of those hours. None. The second show now graces my right-hand display. This process of writing my thoughts has been useless for many years, yet I still sit here because it has become a habit. I suppose keeping a diary is common, too. I don’t know for sure because not only do I avoid people, but my experience and understanding tells me that most diaries are private. I’ll probably never know the truth. The fact is that I have been writing here more in the last five years than everything prior and I am so accustomed and connected to the process that to change at this point could be very difficult. Maybe the thought only came about because of the fact that I’ve been repeating myself, avoiding the title topics much of the time, and do not see the benefits any longer. I do enjoy typing, though. Perhaps I should return to the fictional endeavors rather than constantly complaining about everything which is unchangeable. Eh... I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if I am capable of changing anything these days. I’ve never felt so weakened and detached from life. For the time being, I suppose my path should be the status quo. Well, except for the effort of trying to accomplish little things above and beyond the norm. 0934. The dry cleaning is nearly finished. I have to maintain pace today or I fear I will fall into the same vat of depression, and I really can’t have that shit right now. One day was bad enough. We shall see if my brain can drive my body and break out of the din for a while. Sometimes the reward doesn’t seem commensurate with the work, although such a factor should not fucking matter to me after all these years. Even though the rewards for which I wish every day do not seem to exist anymore. The truth is that I must learn to embrace whatever comfort I can find. 1126 is on the little clock and I am proud of my efforts so far today. The dry cleaning is out of the way, I went to the smoke shop and market, and I completed my daily routine. I also have a load of laundry in the washer. Oh, the morning cocktail? Yeah... Fuck the idea of skipping it. An icy glass of the depressant is next to me and just below the second show on my right-hand display. The only issue thus far today was one hell of a form within the shopping center. I caught sight of her as I was doing my little ‘turn around the town’ after shopping. Jesus... The legs on that woman. Whatever. The positives are outweighing the negatives right now. I believe upon finishing the laundry and straightening somewhat, the prediction is that my evening will feel deserved; quite the opposite of yesterday. The yoga pants notwithstanding, this day has been rewarding and I am pleased with having found the drive to accomplish more than I have in recent weeks. This is very good, hence the fucking whiskey. Heh. Friday morning. I have a little bit of time before the morning chores. The dragons are next to me, along with coffee to clear the cobwebs from my head. I was very pleased with the efforts yesterday, meaning today shall entail a nice, long morning. I could use some relaxation. I also need one hell of a lot of time here at this editor. Everything I accomplished yesterday helped me to relax during the evening, and that is key these days. During the daytime hours, my comfort should be a simple affair, whereas the later hours need attention in order to shine. Last night I felt as much. Today will not matter because I need to be secure in the knowledge that I am going to survive this period, and sometimes that adds up to being completely isolated. The sun will hopefully not shine through my window without a bit of cloud cover. I like the blinds to remain open because the view provides a more open feeling while relaxing here. 0808 is on the clock right now and I have the rest of the day to myself. The morsel has faded a bit of late, but I have no doubt she will rise once again if I become weak (very likely; very soon). I need to think about this for a while. Perhaps I can make it through to afternoon time without becoming a complete fucking basket case. I don’t want to be upset all day long. I’m sure once I kick off the routine I will rise a bit because that always happens. There is a comfort inherent in that mid-morning routine that I probably can’t adequately describe here, much like when I begin to feel nostalgic for the glow and then attempt to convey the emotions that roll through me like ocean waves. Nope. I can’t do justice to either of them. At least I have some daily aspects of life which still bring me some enjoyment. I suppose such a fact is better than nothing. I can already sense my brain heading toward some type of fall this morning. This is not good, so once again I’ll need to push. I don’t like pushing. Not a bit. If I am to come out the other side of this day, something has to happen and I have to be the one to do it. Ugh. The rest of the shit in my head will need to take a pause, if such a thing is even possible, and that includes the girl. I don’t want that fucking sin all wrapped around my business today. When she gets in my head, I can’t move in any direction without a hint of falling down. I am fallen this morning, so perhaps she did her job, as did my past. Wonderful. The sun is breaking through and then hiding, effectively forcing me to deal with tremendous brightness and then shade. It’s driving me crazy so I have to close the blinds for a while. Oh boy. This morning is beginning to feel desperate. It is the same direction that sent me through the gate instead of driving to one of our facilities at NASA on that fateful morning. This is not a good situation and it often makes me so angry that nothing in or around the house can help lift me out of the pit. Due to completing so much yesterday, maybe I’ll head to the garage later and continue with the chaincase work. I don’t know if it will help, but at least I can straighten up everything out there after weeks of mess. Again... Better than nothing. I’ve not really felt like working out there much this week. I did degrease some parts the other day, but immediately afterward was enough boredom to offset the feeling of accomplishment. Anger is non-productive most of the time. I am fallen anyway, so maybe the garage will be my best path for accompanying this mood. I really don’t know of any other methods for coping with this shit these days. Running away would be excellent right now if the resources were in place. Nope. I am a hole in the world. The time is now 1046 and I am beginning to lose all direction. I completed most of the routine aside from allowing the dishes to drip-dry for a little while. I’ll probably finish off the kitchen at lunch time. I pushed through this shit yesterday, effectively setting aside all of my issues and completing much work, but right now I have no idea how I accomplished such a feat. Not every day need be to the limit, but for fuck’s sake... I could use a fucking boost right now and none seem to be available. My head is the likely cause, too. Going sideways so early in the day is bad all around, and if the past is any indication, there is nothing I can do about it other than ride the train through the storm and hope to come out the other side in better mental shape. The odds are not in my favor, unfortunately. That is the truth. Today may turn into a big pile of shit. I need to stop going back in time. The glow is long gone and cannot return, meaning when I embrace that beautiful period and then come back to reality, I end up one rung further down the ladder of this existence. The main issue is that I continue to compare the present with the past. There is no way to reproduce such a wonderful time, either, so the healthy choice is to leave it behind and focus upon what can actually be done to improve my state. God damn does Osha have huge eyes. She is scary, yet the eyes cannot be denied. Anyway, I am thankful that the video media can transport me up and away from the miserable process of realizing where I am in life. I really am. Perhaps in order to push the past away again, I should drown myself in the media for a while and relax about everything. Sitting here analyzing only dredges up more than I can usually handle. There is media on the right-hand display, always, yet due to my overt sensitivity to so many modern-era tenets, I can’t relax and enjoy while writing. The media runs in the background as I await the wondrous moments that make the stories worthwhile. Perhaps I truly am beyond repair. No one is listening, nor does any of this shit matter beyond the walls of my own consciousness. ‘How in the fuck would you know? Cunt.’ -- Me I uttered those words last night while watching what we’ve been following during the evenings and with dinner. That response to some dialog on the show forced me to realize that I’ve become even more jaded than I had previously calculated. I am angry inside all the time. Most of it remains hidden away, and as such only causes the occasional outburst, and a quiet one at that. But the fact remains that I feel so much disdain that it is bordering upon hatred. I know of the cause, too, and the line of dialog ain’t it. Sometimes I feel that my position here as having zero effect upon the rest of the world is the only way to live. I cannot have a positive influence upon anything these days. Well, probably for the rest of my life, really, however long that may be. There is a deep cut inside me that was caused by others, yet I did not realize until just a few years ago that such a cut has forced me to see more than I had in the past. The latter has made me not only a deviant soul, but a person filled with feelings that cannot be discussed out loud. Make of that what you will. I don’t care because unless someone barges into my tiny world, nothing can affect me. Only I can affect myself. I don’t want to be attacked, either. I need to be left alone, good or bad as it may be. I always say no one is listening. In the long run, they are better off, believe me. Any discussion will make me angry. I recall watching another series a few years ago, within which there had been an exchange between a married couple that angered me beyond belief. I will not spell it out, however, for fear of being labeled (like so many other aspects of my personality that must remain absent from this content). When something like that transpires, I feel more alone than during any other time. The reason is my penchant for engaging in conversation and leaving the other person completely void of responses. In short, I have the capacity to paint them into a corner every fucking time. The same type of difficulty did not take place last night because I have learned that dealing with my psyche is not easy for anyone. Instead, I utter a complaint and then leave the issue alone. It then fades into the past. I have a plan for the next steps on the bike. Once my morning cocktail is gone, I will probably have a light lunch and then work in the garage for a while. The music can keep me company. In the event that my diminishing mood continues in such a vein, the entire neighborhood will know well enough to remain at a distance from my garage door. I have yet to decide if the door will open or not. Right now I just don’t know what may be best. The title has been lost for now. Maybe the titles have been lacking in meaning for a while. I don’t know if they have ever been important. Perhaps I should only date the entries. Saturday morning. 0733. I have very little business today. The control center will probably receive lots of attention. The motorcycle, too. Time will tell. My door did indeed open yesterday. I was able to finish cleaning the chaincase, and after allowing it to thoroughly dry in the sun, sprayed two coats of paint. Now it is sitting on my bench with one new oil seal in place. I should be able to get it back on the engine and transmission later today. While out there, I also cleaned all my tools and put them where they belong. Very nice. I intend to relax here and gather my thoughts for a while before transitioning to the work area. The longer morning with no early chores helps me to think without my time being broken into smaller segments. I enjoy these weekend mornings (mostly). The clock seems to move along slowly, meaning there is little pressure upon my head most of the time. The schedule is under my control, something I believe you already know to be critically important. I’ve become accustomed to the difficulties inherent in the show we’ve been following during the evenings. Years ago I actually gave up on some good programs due to a specific aspect of the action. Dealing with the way they put those moments together became a hardship. The language is something I am simply not going to avoid if I am to branch out at all, so I decided to just sit there and take it. As for the action? That one will not change. I have never understood it, nor will I in the future. Once I realize that the scripting has been massaged in a very unreasonable direction for specific results, the show becomes nothing more than an enemy. The resulting mood is such that I begin to see what society has accomplished in this life, and then I cannot see straight. There is an aspect of the dialog which can send me into a tailspin, but it is very rare, thankfully. So, for the time being, anyway, everything can move along as it has. Perhaps I have learned to be patient with people being worthless and demonstrating their need for attention. Maybe. As I said above... Time will tell. I have to be careful with my tongue quite often because I know not how many other people might understand and/or identify with my anger. Well, I am in contact with perhaps four individuals these days, and but three in person, so maybe I need not be terribly concerned. The fact is no matter how many others may or may not be near me, the time could eventually arrive when I am in the company of more. Guiding my thoughts and considering my words are akin to using the turn signals in a car when no one else is in view. The process is a habit, and one may find they are ill-equipped to think clearly about rules (or what is important) if said habit is ignored for the most part and then only followed when required. Does that make sense? The habit means less chance of slip-ups. All this shit only means I need to be careful or one day I will run aslant of the wrong person and cause a big fucking problem. Regardless of my own inner level of acceptance regarding what took place within the video media scripting, I will remain alone in my thinking and find a lack of understanding for the way people consider the limits of society. No one is correct here, either. Not even me. I feel this way and have to keep my trap shut even though such analysis is educational and represents growth. I am still not ‘right’. I just feel it. So, when something comes along – such as the other night when I blurted my deference – the plan is to follow the habit and stay quiet. Such behavior could save me as well as the minds of others. Maybe. I could be overthinking all this shit. Whatever. I am unhappy with the manner in which society has driven the media into the fucking ground and cannot do anything about it. Due to the apathy and insensitivity of people, I have to alter my fucking behavior or risk being even more alone than I am right now. Splendid. Pissed off. No amount of fucking pants can fix it, either. I may never understand any of this shit. 0844. I didn’t have to close the blinds this morning thanks to the sky being overcast. I don’t know if this is better or not. Whatever. I saw some of those things right in front of me, others were further away. They were all real, though. Everything was real. Now? Nothing remains. Only memories and dreams. The sinful realm ebbs and flows; lately the former has taken me away from visions of her. They will return soon enough and catch me upside the head like always. There is nothing I can do to stop the dreams, nor can I simply shut off my desire. The last few occasions have cemented themselves to my consciousness and will not leave me alone. They do not fade, and that is in contrast to all the hundreds of visions out there in the world that come and go very quickly. The imagery eventually fades because I can only remember for so long. Even the pool girl is mostly gone, believe it or not. The sinful visions stay right there behind my eyes and taunt me as if to say ‘sorry, dipshit; none of this will ever belong to you, but you’ll continue to see.’ Wonderful. I can’t pull or push my way out of this realm, either. After last year and tons of supporting information injected into my tired brain, any recourse is either bullshit or gone for good. I will remain inside it for the duration. Those things I’ve seen? Gone, as well. There are only fantasies now. Memories, too. I was there. Now I am here. I am within the realm that is trying to best me. The time is now 0924 and I still have no clue as to how this day will proceed. My daily routine will not take much time, meaning if I wish to go beyond the norm, there will be the space to consider how best to proceed. The previous paragraph has my head all fucked over and twisted, so hopefully I can rise from it and perform work around the house without further issue. I really don’t like feeling this way at all. The time is now 0924 and I still have no clue as to how this day will proceed. My daily routine will not take much time, meaning if I wish to go beyond the norm, there will be the space to consider how best to proceed. The previous paragraph has my head all fucked over and twisted, so hopefully I can rise from it and perform work around the house without further issue. I really don’t like feeling this way at all. I’ve been floating along the same river and dealing with the pitfalls for so long that I no longer see another way to live. That is some very sad commentary. I suppose I’ll move away from this when the coffee is gone and work on my routine. After? I don’t fucking know. Like Tony said, ‘It’s all just a series of distractions until you die.’ I cannot disagree, although I still remember a couple of different periods in the past when I would have taken the opposite view of that statement. Not anymore. I really hope the other end of this day is comfortable. I could use it. Sunday morning. Coffee, cats fed, the show, all that shit. Sunday is perhaps my favorite day of the week now. The fact that today is the day is probably the most positive as possible after last night. I really need to embrace my Sunday and enjoy the business as much as I am able. Garbage, my kitchen, or whatever else I feel like doing. The evening became increasingly difficult due to the program we have been watching, yet not for reasons you might expect. I will say that my time living since the late eighties became all lined up inside my head and I began to realize a truth which is ugly. That is all I will say for now. The routine and other work today will help me to remain standing. My brain is full of information that I do not like. Yesterday I finally reinstalled the inner chaincase (twice, actually) with new oil seals and everything torqued to specifications. I am pleased with the work. I still need bushings before I can add the swingarm and get the bike off the jack, although my neighbor informed me yesterday that some of the parts should be arriving by Wednesday. In addition to the bike being fairly spread out all over the place, more items arrived from her parents’ house and the entire garage is now void of flat surfaces. I will have to take care of some organization out there today to ease my mind. In the space of less than two months, the garage has gone from nice and neat, as in ready for me to need the work space, to being completely out of order with no possibility for projects and repairs. I need to clean as many parts as I can and mount them on the motorcycle where they belong for reasons of calming my head. I realize this is all temporary, but still... I had a good thing going out there, like a sanctuary. I would imagine I can have the entire area in order by the end of this month. The temporary nature of such a project is part of what keeps me going. I enjoy assembling mechanical systems, too. At some point this will all be completed and the machine will be taken to the City for electrical work. Today is going to be a hardship due to what I recalled and felt last night. The program on the television was not the problem, only a catalyst that drove me to recall some things from the Midwest period, and some from shortly thereafter. All of my magazines came to mind, as did the daydreams I experienced during the second summer (I think). Escape from the doldrums and a very specific type of comfort were daily thoughts back then. Even moving forward in time eight years, the same dreams took me from myself and I wondered if I’d always be in the same position. There was a stark reference to something very specific which I had dreamed all those years ago and it started my brain on a different set of rails... Those with the end expected. Some twenty-odd years ago I ceased pursuing materials related to those dreams for reasons of self-preservation. They were driving me nuts and I guess I did not expect to be slapped in the face with such imagery after all this time. There have been many tiny references over time, yet nothing so detailed. At least I didn’t completely lose my shit. I am hoping the series does not head in a similar direction throughout the rest of its run. I really don’t need any more reminders of where I am. There was that first ‘thing’ some years ago. I couldn’t understand it, let alone fully describe the process. I felt the thing. Once, I even saw it, and was caught so off-guard that my brain was full of pain for weeks after the incident. Now I simply try to avoid the thoughts and imagery. That first thing is pretty old, too. It may date back more than thirty years. Even at my age, I still don’t understand it and most likely never will. A long time ago there was a conversation. The words were troubling and wonderful at the same time. They accomplished exactly nothing, however. There is no way to study or advance the reasoning behind the thing no matter the passage of time nor the minds involved. There is simply no way. Oh, but I have seen it. At the present, there is another thing. And another, from last year. I can’t talk about any of this shit in detail because no good can come of it. There has existed but one small set of ears, and they are gone. The issues within this fucked up paragraph are the true reasons for everything over which I have found turmoil throughout the last three years, or since the writing ramped up to its current level. ‘This, that and the other’, perhaps. Three items, three years. Two of them popped up just last year, and the other has been around much longer. That ‘thing’ is dreamy and improbable; mysterious and beautiful. And the other two? They bring me to my knees quite often. And then there is the realm."
April 16th, 2023 8:36am pdt
If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning.
The Sinful Realm III
read ( words)
"0831. I can already feel my head beginning to go sideways this morning. I may have to hop to my housework sooner rather than waiting until the coffee is gone. I have to keep myself distracted in order to avoid a disastrous day. Between the sinful thoughts and that fucking imagery that smacked me upside the head yesterday, all of my strength may be required to force this day into being something productive and positive rather than a pit of despair. I can’t remove anything bad from my head, so the only option is pushing it back... Suppression is not the best method, yet I don’t know what else to do. Perhaps if someone was listening, they could offer alternatives. No one is there. I am completely alone in this. Maybe Roxanne will show up at my door so I can lick her face. Contrary to what others may believe, I do not enjoy being angry. I am beginning to feel that I can make something of this day. The last cup of coffee is next to me and my head is calculating moves for the post-routine period. ‘Amor non est’, indeed. I am starting to look at the world and its inherent machinations differently. Long-held beliefs and standards of life are fading away. I’ll have to finish this cup and head into work before too long. Sunday morning has arrived on the heels of a decent Saturday. I completed lots of work on the bike. I also took care of my usual stuff around the house without issue. Keeping busy for such a vast amount of time meant my brain allowed some information to fall away and also fortified my head enough to relax about this life for a while. I didn’t see her face (or anything else) inside my brain for hours. That felt really good. This morning? Not too bad so far, although the shit from last year keeps popping in and attempting to completely derail me this early. I can’t have that today. The typical shows will follow me in favor of anything risky, such as the big three. Downhill. These days are filled with the overly-enjoyable feeling of working in the kitchen with my friends in the background as offset by the damaging daydreams of impossible situations. One of them came to me in the middle of the night, too. Between the up and down, there is my ever-loving netherworld of mental and emotional battles and fear combined with brief flashes of light and dark, the latter being a dream of making everything go away. This may mean I’ve been ‘manic’ for a long time and didn’t realize until recently due to the effects being subdued and the shallow nature of not having been fully diagnosed with any aspect of this condition being toward the positive. Quite the reverse, actually, and that was a long time ago. Right around the same time as when I ran to Juliette and drowned myself into her blouse and our little, temporary world. The doctor did not mince words and the record follows me to this very day. I think about all of it sometimes when my mood shifts quickly from one end of the scale to the other, and often when I find myself standing still just an hour after formulating a good plan for my time. Yesterday I remained in the ‘up’ position for quite a while, and regardless of the work, enjoyments, or plans for the coming days and weeks, I see and feel an overall downward trajectory which is taking a set inside my head for the long haul. I consider my place in the world whenever the media or other reminders hit me with the past (yesterday it was the second show), and when I look back twenty years, I see myself as occupying higher ground. Cut to a few years later and I found myself even further up and in a place I could never have predicted. Now? I have the transmission set in perpetual reverse because of the main two factors of my decisions over the years in general, and the most recent three in particular. My situation and condition have combined to represent and illuminate the lowest position I have ever held in this life. I am not proud of this, either. Everything feels far away right now. Very far, indeed. ‘Longitudo magna’. Yep. Had someone told me years ago that I would be here in the future, I probably would have agreed at least a little. My record stands on its own. I knew, and I fulfilled the circles when the time came for disruption. I still don’t know why, though. I have no fucking clue, but I am here nonetheless. The battle between moving forward and giving up has never been more evenly-matched. This feeling of perpetual depression forces me to return to the ‘keywords’ almost every day; specifically one massive word that I still cannot define. The downhill slide has greatly diminished my estimation of other people, and to be fair, that means I must look at myself, as well. None of this shit has much to do with the realm, although I will say that when I think of such a place I am forced to believe that my mindset changed so much last year that the idea of someone with the ability to ‘save’ me appears differently now than prior to me being altered against my wishes. I don’t even care if this crap makes sense. The realm is related to the slide, the slide had been caused by beauty, and my obsession was forged by a yearning for the right type of understanding. There you go. Unravel that one. No respite. None. Hmm... Maybe my present condition is directly related to the realm. Perhaps the feelings that came about inside me last year were inevitable. Things change, I guess. Things have changed. I don’t believe people see me as they did some years ago. I really don’t, yet I can’t be certain because I don’t talk to anyone these days. The suspicion has been born of a combination of fear and distrust. Some state that a person cannot go through life without eventually trusting someone else. Well, I’ve been doing just that for a very long time. And yes, I am unhappy, but if you want to sit there and tell me in all certainty that I would be happy having trusted others more, well... You don’t fucking know. And don’t forget about the fear. I’m in a bad spot here, and I’ve been typing such a statement for so long that it has become a lifestyle. That means I probably don’t realize the depth of this shit until interfacing with someone on the outside. The gradient becomes illuminated and my guard solidifies, meaning there cannot be a person in contact with me that sees me as I was a few years ago. 0903. I have the last cup of coffee next to me and will probably rise and begin my Sunday business very soon. I’ll have a few hours to myself, too, meaning time to think clearly and without distraction. Well, for all the good it may do, anyway. I have some dry cleaning and the usual garbage stuff, and I’d like to do some cleaning in the garage. My tools have been all greasy for days. The new engine is in the frame, along with the transmission, swingarm, brake caliper and rear wheel. I may end up disassembling much of it, too, if some parts are going to be replaced and/or upgraded. Either way, I don’t care. The work keeps my mind occupied some days. I typically embrace anything with the ability to keep my mind off the realm and subsequent deep depression. I may end up using all those tools again, but in the meantime I intend to straighten the area so I can keep my head organized... On one front, at least. There are other things I need to accomplish, too. Right now I have no idea if I’ll be capable of much by lunchtime or soon after. Ah, shit. There is Roxanne again. She is rising through the ranks of my desire. Her face, to be clear. Just the face. Always the face. Believe it. Anyway, the weather is quite warm and sunny this morning. Whatever I wish to do in the yards or garage will be eased as opposed to the last few months of low temperatures and much rain. 1136. My daily routine is out of the way and I have the second load of dry cleaning running. The weather is very warm right now, too. It’s nice to have the option of opening windows for fresh air because the last three months have been quite the opposite. From here forward, I need to consider lunch and whatever other work I’d like to complete prior to close of business hours. I do have to visit the small market for tonight’s protein and some cream for my morning coffee, so perhaps once the dry cleaning is finished I can take a drive to the back of the valley and get that chore out of the way. My mind has been occupied just as expected. I need to keep this train rolling until evening. The visions have attempted to invade my brain off and on this morning. That means the work has to continue or I shall fall again. I don’t want to become angry, yet the option is once lunch is finished, I can move to the garage and relax with some motorcycle work and music. The anger will build and then subside. The cycle of me, that is. I still need to lick Roxanne’s face until the cows come home. Damn it all, anyway. Desire is one of the perpetual tenets of life. Nothing is on the horizon, nor is anyone listening. If I don’t blow up inside, much work can be completed while the sun is warm.
Cercei’s hair is so far beyond beautiful that it nearly offsets her fucking cunty, snooty attitude and icy, shitty ‘superior’ stance in life. Jesus fucking hell did they ever hit her appearance out of the park. Beware her words and facial expressions, however, because they will kill on sight. Heh. The hair is unreal, though. Really beautiful. A single square inch of Roxanne’s face puts the whole of Cersei to shame in milliseconds, too. I have an image which illustrates as much. Perhaps if I remain in acceptable spirits I can include it on the site. Right now I just don’t give a cold shit in hell. The morning alcohol has loosened me enough to move into my little empire and work on the bike. I shall return when the time is nigh. I think I had a dream about her but cannot be certain now. The morning business has muddied my thoughts and I believe some time will be required for me to clear my head and move along with the day. Regardless of whether or not I did indeed dream of that girl, I am halfway to sideways. Everything gets to me these days. I am too sensitive for the world and too fearful of the people in it. Eh... Fuck it all. I am pleased to have an entire Monday to myself and the space to think about everything. I probably won’t do much today beyond the usual chores, either. A trip to the hardware store may be in order if I feel like leaving the house, although it is not entirely necessary. I may spend a good portion of time right here at the control center in order to alter the site appearance. Right now I have the last cup of coffee and my program to the right. I am trying to avoid the sideways mood and related pitfalls that will doubtless accompany such a stance. Something that would be very nice right now is a pair of understanding ears. Nope. Knowing what is there does not help me. The daydreams continue to plague my waking hours and all of my will is required to avoid a fall. The little ones come and go, yet in the back of my mind I know there will be a far worse situation coming at me in the near future. I’ve seen enough to know that nothing in this world has the power to stop me from dreaming of her, and the more I do, the more my place in the world diminishes. Every glimpse is a step in the wrong direction, not to mention the overwhelming desire I already feel each and every day. The last few occasions are still driving me mad and there is nothing I can do about it. In and around my work today, I must find a way of compartmentalizing dreams, visions and the painted pictures born of my never-ending imagination. I’ve seen too much, no doubt, and all of it needs to be cooled right now. All of it. I wish someone was listening. I also wish I had not seen so much. My feelings changed last year and I don’t know how to deal with this shit. The dreams have become doctrine. 0928. I’ll begin to work on my routine very soon. The thought of working around the house with the second show keeping me company still warms me from the inside out. The weather is cool and overcast – likely all day long, I believe – so I probably won’t do much with the bike. My efforts shall heretofore remain indoors. Early this morning I was thinking that each day I should care for something beyond the norm, if only for peace of mind. I don’t need to tackle anything huge, only small items one at a time. Whatever I decide to do, it must be accomplished prior to lunch, as well. Afterward can be time for relaxation if I feel the need. Little things, such as when I walk by some aspect of the house that irritates me. Those are the tasks that become rewarding. Rather than walking by for the hundredth time, I’ll stop and deal with each one. As I said, nothing crazy. After some weeks of doing so, this house should be more comfortable and my head may find increased relaxation during the evenings. Well, here I sit at 1119 with my daily routine out of the way and exactly zero direction for the rest of the morning. Maybe I’ll seek another series to watch, or something. Right now I don’t have a clue as to how the rest of the day will proceed, however I will say that thus far this day is complete shit. Whatever changed last year (not the damaging dreams and subsequent altered mindset) gripped me again today and made me angry. I have some idea of how this came about, yet there is nothing else I can say here. I must keep certain information out of the public domain. If the anger builds, all of my information will be removed from the same. I just don’t care. None of this helps, anyway. Tuesday morning, 0755. I am not happy today. Yesterday continues to swirl inside my brain and it is forcing me to fall down and cease giving a shit about anything. I don’t like feeling this way, but there seems to be no recourse these days. Last year’s incident (or whatever the fuck changed) is on my mind every single day, related closely with the fracture, and is beginning to hold me back in life. Yes, in everything. Each aspect of my day is attached to thoughts that cannot be alleviated. Last night more of the difficulties came to mind and I became angry. Nothing developed, though, because I am intelligent enough to stifle my emotions and play out the role of a fairly ‘balanced’ person. All of my issues need to be organized, compacted and then shoved into a small space so no one can access them. My biggest problem right now is that shit from last year combined with memories. I have to push back the feelings related to my place in society after all these years or I’ll lose my mind. One thing at a time right now. Push back. Push hard. I can’t handle both. Fortunately, in my current situation, the fracture exists only inside me rather than anywhere else. That is good. Unfortunately, the other issue which illuminated itself last year is powerful enough to drive me straight into the ground. I mean that literally, too. Almost time for the last cup of coffee. I am so accustomed to being frustrated and unhappy that I can switch topics back and forth over and over without missing a syllable. Isn’t that peachy? I am already becoming irritated by everything today and I haven’t even finished the coffee. I’m sure the kitchen will feel nice and comfortable with my extended family in the background, but beyond that? I don’t know what will be ‘good’ versus ‘difficult’. Nothing seems fulfilling anymore because of the gaping holes inside me that doubtless will remain as such for the duration. Yesterday I did some cleaning late in the afternoon so the evening felt more comfortable. I suppose I can do the same today, although the way I feel right now is not helping me look forward to anything in life, not even the damned kitchen. My friends on the television never disappoint, though. They do not change because they’ve been frozen in time. I will say that the second show sends my head back to the glow more often than not, and particularly during the last few days due to the timeline of my current viewing. The episodes originally aired right smack dab in the middle of one of the best times of my entire life. With each passing line of dialog, I am sent back in time to when there was still hope and wonder, promise and possibility. Now? There is literally not a fucking item in life that feels even remotely close to all that shit. Maybe in the future I’ll be able to look back on this quiet time with fond memories. Right now I just don’t know due to all the pain of losing the way the world looked thirty years ago. I guess the only thing I can do is care for my daily business and see what develops throughout the next few hours. No matter how fucked up my head becomes at times, housework still needs to be accomplished to maintain quality of life in this little home. At least I still finish all my stuff each day. Better than nothing. There is that word again. Ugh. As of yet I have not edited any images for this entry. Perhaps they are meaningless anymore. Between the main two folders of images already displayed on the site, the total number is staggering. There are 1592 individual files supporting hundreds of essays, and that is not all of them. Other folders for certain parts of the site have not been counted. Maybe after all this time the point has been made. I don’t know. Recently, I’ve leaned toward the same model (as you have seen) but the subject is no longer blowing up my skirt. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I still yearn for her arms around me, but the fact is that her visage may not continue. Perhaps she’s been here too much and I need to find another direction. I don’t fucking know what to do most of the time. There are so many shots of bare breasts contained within this series that I don’t even see them anymore. Heh. Anyway, I may opt for nothing but text and dividers for a while to give the image searches a rest. And I need to lick Roxanne’s midsection. Just a thought. Don’t get me started on other parts of her beautiful anatomy. 0910. The coffee is nearly gone. That means I’ll soon transition to the housework and my friends on two televisions, along with a nice, fat fucking cocktail to calm my nerves. Beyond my daily routine, I have no clue as to how I will feel or what may seem appealing for work. Yesterday I pushed through the shit even after falling upon my sad face for the thousandth time and did some cleaning around the living room and bath. If I can do that again today, perhaps I won’t feel like shit during the evening. Little things, remember? At this point in the morning I still don’t know what will happen during the coming hours. Something, though. Good or bad, the time shall pass. Nothing stops the planet from turning; not even my broken heart. Little things, I guess. My world is so tiny these days that I still can’t believe it at times. 1036. The daily routine is finished and I have a nice drink next to me for the next hour or so. Two positives, yet right behind my eyes is a massive negative. Yep... The glow again. That period came to mind because the episode which kept me company through the housework aired at the beginning of ninety-one, right in the center of one of the best periods of my life. Damn it. The world was huge and full of mystery, wonder and possibilities. Now? All of that is gone. There are violent incidents on the news every day, people flipping the fuck out and shooting others, a war in the east that could turn global at the drop of a hat, and me sitting here completely helpless to find fulfillment in life. The gradient between the current date and that of the glowing years has never been more vast. It is fucking huge. I don’t like it. I don’t enjoy knowing that everything has become completely fucking dire and stupid. Dr. Melfi stated (more than twenty years ago) that we live in a ‘time of spiritual and technological crisis’. She was correct, and now here we are much further along the detrimental road of progress. I don’t even know how I made it this far, not to mention the fact that I felt the need to get the hell out of this place and relocate to the far north for no other reason than detachment from this backward, fucked-up society. Well, I am still right in the middle of everything and have so few options that my head may never recover from feeling helpless. No wonder I am a depressed alcoholic. The holes inside me often feel minuscule when held against the vast power of the state of the world. This is a lovely fucking clambake. The rest of the day is still up in the air. And sometimes I feel a deep-seated need to push cunty Cercei’s face through the back of her pretty head. God damn do I ever hate her character. But... What about Lena’s performance? Fantastic. She did not win enough awards in my opinion. Ok, all media-related bullshit aside, the day is my focus. I have to find some drive and work through this shit or I’ll come out the other side in worse shape than right now. Such a consideration is not very nice, to be sure. Sometimes when I feel this way during the mid-morning, I take a few minutes to head to the garage and absolutely attack the neighborhood with one song at stratospheric volume just to release some frustration. I can’t do anything about the realm, I can’t go back in time and drown into Ashley’s arms for comfort, nor can I return to the glow and feel the way I did all those fucking years ago, so the only outlet becomes a temporary lashing which accomplishes precisely nothing. Yep... Not a fucking thing. Nothing will change no matter my emotional state or desire, so my head directs the train of life into damaging behavior. No matter how many times I exercise the power of the garage audio system, the aftereffects are fucking pathetic. I am powerless in this world and when I lash, nothing comes of it. But I still do it just to feel that audio power for a few minutes. I know prior to the act that I’ll come out the other side exactly the same. The only result can be neighbors hearing my mood and such a fact is meaningless. Maybe I should drive to the hardware store and pick up chemicals to degrease the inner primary drive housing. All this work and the motorcycle isn’t even mine. I have rarely felt worse than I do at this very moment. I switched off the show because it was annoying me. A few songs are in order for the next little while before I do anything else. One of these days I will surpass the violent and depressive nature of the second cocktail and head toward the third. I shall embrace the wireless MDRs and spend some time in the backyard with the worst music imaginable blasting through those headphones and then finally blow my fucking brains out of my head. Preparations will be necessary prior to the shot. As of yet, I haven’t been willing to prepare everything, and that is the one reason I am still above ground. The ONLY reason. Believe it, motherfuckers. ‘Street after street; and night after night; I walk on through the rain, yes I walk on through the rain.’ Dead and/or dying thoughts. 1153. I don’t know what to do with the rest of this fucking day. My snap-ring pliers will be arriving this afternoon, meaning I can further disassemble the inner primary cover and clean it. Do I want to do all that work? Not really, but I will at some point. I typically do whatever is expected of me or perform those tasks that I state will be completed. Letting others down is not an option these days. Apparently, however, me being let down by anything doesn’t matter in the least. ‘Wrapped up in you; comforting me; I could die here.’ I don’t want this day to head downhill, yet inside I am feeling the need to make some kind of statement. ‘Our world will change for no one.’ 1433. Lunch is out of the way and I completed a load of laundry. I also went to the hardware store for some chemicals and then the market for a few staples. And yes, right there in the frozen food aisle was a form unequaled in recent history. She was very thin, fairly muscular, and appeared to be one of those examples of exquisite line structure. Well, as I moved past her from the rear (and oh, what a rear), I took the chance of glancing down and saw the gap which defines those radii. Wow. I had to get the fuck out of there and drive home before catching sight of such a genetic fluke walking out of the store. And speaking of driving, she drove me to drink. The foggy blue is in a large glass to my right. I have to wait for the degreaser to set in before going to the backyard for a second blast. My plan is to work on whatever I can with regard to the bike in order to force that woman to fade from my memory. I wish I hadn’t seen her, but at the same time I was gazing at a rarity. I don’t know what the fuck to do about this shit anymore. I keep imagining very picturesque situations from the past and they are making me angry. Massive segments of life having fallen away... The second spray is finished. I’ll have to hose off the housing in a bit and then allow time for it to dry in the sun. I don’t know how much the metal will benefit from such a treatment, but I do know that I have no wish to scrub the fucking thing until clean enough for some paint. Oh, boy... The fracture is apparent right now due to my choice of media. At least I am alone, like always. Anyway, other than the chaincase housing, the rest of my afternoon will be spent relaxing for the most part. I still don’t want to clean the outside of all the windows until I am certain we won’t be blasted by another storm. And Roxanne is driving me out of my fucking mind right now. Her face and shoulders are the stuff of dreams. Fuck. Shut up. Worship is unhealthy. So is everything else I do on a daily basis. Emilia’s eyes are big and beautiful, yet there is something nearby that is most decidedly off. I can’t put a fine point on it. The fracture has been illuminated again. I am alone, and being as such is the only saving throw versus the world. Her eyes have nothing to do with the fracture. I am the key. Time is the lock. There can be no real end to this shit. Ok, the chaincase housing is in the sun and drying. I don’t believe the inside of the rear is clean enough for spraying, meaning I’ll have to do some scrubbing after the fact. Eddard would swear loyalty to a pile of dog shit before that of the fuckface. Heh. I’ve seen this program too much in the last few years. Anyway, from here on out, my purpose is to take it easy until the time arrives for dinner preparations. I see no reason to get into any other work this afternoon because my head will not leave me at peace. No, not the woman in the market and her godly form, this is different. The issue relates to both the fracture and the realm, with a pinch of whatever changed last year to leave me believing that some aspects of life are now behind me, never to return. The anger cannot compare to such vast sadness. I begin each day sad, end up becoming angry due to the essay from seventeen, and then the anger subsides and I am left with the aforementioned sadness. The bike project can only provide so much distraction and will eventually be complete to the point of leaving my garage. I have much which can be done afterward, yet the most important issues will remain sans recourse. On the inside, nothing can be changed. At least the chaincase is mostly clean. That’s good enough for now and I don’t give a shit if it is otherwise. Language used as shield and weapon, indeed. I’ve been the subject of both, yet the former rules my sense of living. I cannot engage in the latter because I have an active conscience. Does my conscience matter? Do my feelings matter? What? To whom? Everything is gone. Half of me reels from the memory of feeling happy and the other half is full of holes. Tell me which part represents the priority. I am so sick of this shit that I want to skywrite it. Eh... Nothing would change. I would merely be the butt of jokes and the laughing stock of the city. No recourse. Out and up. Two different trajectories. One over there and the other over there. I am going to lose my mind completely, and finally. I can feel the hour approaching. I can smell the dirt. Worms. Lots of worms. I won’t feel anything. The imagery of the sinful realm does not leave my mind for a second these days. Not a fucking second. I see everything. I still see her. I need to see more. I need to gaze at her lines and the direction of those points. Out and up; up and out. The reference is in mind. IN. MIND. I already know. Recent sightings have jaded me beyond belief, but believe it. They are right over there. They are amazing. They are waiting. I am sullen. They are impossible. The damaging dreams continue their unrelenting wrath. They have broken me into pieces. The realm is the rule. She is the realm. She is an alteration from the past. I cannot go back. Let us continue downward. The dreams were born of the fracture because they do not obey its power. Ashley told me as much and I still believe her after all these years. Yesterday I made ketchup from scratch and it is delicious. The reason is Passover. I cannot employ the standard vinegar, thus I used a substitute and simmered the mixture for half an hour. Once cooled, we enjoyed it as a dipping sauce. This evening I will mix in some chipotle and spice it a bit. Potatoes will be cut into wedges and baked with seasonings and oil. Steak on the stove. Fresh cucumber and tomato combined with red onion tossed in olive oil and a hint of lemon. All of that will be dinner, and I’ll prepare everything with my glow-induced, extended family in the background. They will remind me of that wondrous time when the universe felt wide-open and the future was shining. And then I’ll be sad again, much like last night. We are still watching and following recent media that seems guided by methods for shocking the audience. The past was not as such, although having lived for decades with nothing on television really pushing the envelope, I would imagine keeping viewers interested required steps in bad directions. I feel that all of the shit on the news is quite bad enough already. We do not need more of it. The problem is that there does not seem to be any middle ground with regard to broadcast media. Either we choose children’s stories, or we delve into something at the other end of the scale. And comedy? No fucking way. What society finds humorous, I find insulting and demeaning. Hurtful. Given the choice, I’ll stick with drama and its inherent pitfalls. Society is skewed these days, due in large part to programming. Thankfully, I can still remain detached from the herd mentality. Today will likely mark close to one thousand in which one of the five series’ remains playing in the background. At least I know what to expect, and I know that the message (while not entirely necessary) will be positive. Shoot me. While I prepare dinner, those people will be on two screens and warming my heart. I don’t see anything wrong with being sensitive to others, no matter who they may be nor from where they hail. Again... Shoot me. Help us both. Wednesday morning. I have two ‘seconds’ right now; the cup of coffee and the show. I had to turn off the dragons for a while because some of the characters were beginning to irritate me. Yesterday I successfully broke out of the shit and took care of business in the afternoon, and during that period I began to feel much disdain for some of the scripting to which I’ve been subjected throughout the last two decades in general, and perhaps since last summer in particular. I’m pretty fucking sick of it. Anyway, I broke away and did my best to advance everything more than I had the previous day. This is a good thing. If I can keep pace, I may feel better by the end of the week. If not, well... I don’t care anyway. The morning is peaceful and quiet. Just what I need each day. Up and out; out and up. Did I mention those two phrases? They both relate to the house and the inside of my tired head. Going further means nothing. I have seen too much. 0809 is what I see on the clocks.
I included Dwight’s classic image here because I admire him. The image is beautiful, and I believe there are two reasons: One is his facial expression and the other is the lack of color information. I’ve been captivated by the photo for years. I almost flipped the fuck out yesterday due to feelings of loss again; that time everything was centered upon memories. Sometimes I miss certain people or places. Sometimes I simply miss a feeling related to some situation. This morning I am recalling the acute sensation of knowing that all the enjoyment is gone. The topic crossed my mind yesterday and was caused by whatever took place last year that has since left me on the side of the road with no options. The anger turned to sadness, like always, yet underneath everything else was a glimpse of my dark future. Not good. Maybe the second show triggered all this shit because of the original airdates. I can’t know for sure, though. One certainty is that I daydream about those four years quite often and (unfortunately) compare them to the last decade. Comparison is natural, honestly, and I believe many do the same thing. The massive downside with this shit is that I am in a much worse position in life than I was years ago. I have fallen far from the period prior to moving here. I did not feel happy then and ran to wherever I calculated could provide me with what I needed. Well, that did not happen. I found myself detached from everyone and everything and backsliding like never before. Hence the running away, for sure. The conclusion is that I ruined myself and cannot go back and fix anything. When combined with the fucked-up nature of my head due to situations beyond my control, the result is me now residing in a place from which there is likely no escape. The main guest star in this episode has become more beautiful over time. I don’t know why her importance has increased, nor can I put a finger on why her beauty has caught me upside the head so many times throughout the last few years. One possibility is that her eyes appear perpetually sad, and that is something to which I’ve been drawn for a very long time. My brain switches back and forth from wanting to hold her to the reverse. Sometimes I need it so badly that I don’t feel as if I can make it through a given day without her arms around me. This is not an example of a balanced person. Remember what I said about the word ‘worship’? Yep, that term applies to far too much in this life. The woman on the screen is approaching such a term, too. Just another ‘not good’ in an already vast sea of trouble. ‘Steer me toward the deep end.‘ Holy crap is she ever gorgeous. I did not feel this way about her thirty years ago, either. No desire. And back then I thought her hair looked pretty funny. Again... No desire whatsoever. Only feelings within my heart. Not good. When she appears fearful, I fear for my own well-being. And no one is listening. Splendid. The heart being involved is much more dangerous than physical desire, believe me. Such a fact is indicative of much deeper issues. Isn’t that just wonderful? 0904 is on the clock and I have the last cup of coffee next to me, just below the video media. When the cup is empty, I suppose I’ll transition to my daily housework and move the show to the other two televisions (three if I become pissed off). God damn that woman is cute beyond words. Ugh. I need to stop commenting upon her. Shit on it, anyway. I am the highest order of basket cases these days, and there may be nothing I can do about any of it. Whatever. My routine will take over soon and then I’ll work on whatever seems best. Right now I have no clue as to what the latter may entail. I’m finding it more and more difficult to care about any of this crap. I suppose that is a natural reaction to saying the same things forty-seven different ways for many years. This is not a reference to the now-famous ‘remarkable forty-seven’ category of the canon. Just a thought. The time is now 1043 and my daily routine has been completed aside from the dishes drip-drying for a little while. My head blew up some time prior to rising from this chair to do my housework. Now I don’t feel as much like a person as I did before the issue gripped me. Thursday morning, 0701. Today may follow in yesterday’s footsteps. I never opened the garage for business and kept the front door locked all day. I did not wish to see or hear anyone else. Right now I feel disappointment in myself because of remaining stagnant yesterday, but at the same time I am finding it difficult to care. There is no agenda; no minimum. There are no guidelines. I answer to no one. Still, this is my home and I have to exert a bit of effort sometimes. I suppose yesterday there was nothing inside me capable of pushing. Today? The hour is far too early for me to speculate. Once the early business is finished, I’ll probably make a decision regarding whether or not to make something of this day or simply give up and fall by the wayside. I don’t know why I fell so far down yesterday. Maybe too much time had passed since the last time I spent the entire day closed up inside this house. I don’t like it. Today must be the switch from shit to gold. 0813. Part one of my typical weekday is finished. I have the first load of dry cleaning running and the plan is to continue with laundry unimpeded until it is completely out of the way. At roughly 1000 I will head over to the smoke shop and then a stop to pick up something for dinner tonight. Upon returning, I’ll see what else I can accomplish prior to lunch time. I may opt to skip the morning cocktail while working in the kitchen because despite how I feel about the inherent freedom and control it represents, the truth is the alcohol can make me lazy. That was probably a portion of what happened yesterday. I’ll give it a shot and see what develops. I have the second load of dry cleaning running right now and my last cup of coffee. The show is beginning to irritate me, too. I may have to switch to something else. Yesterday made me angry. I will not repeat any aspect of those hours. None. The second show now graces my right-hand display. This process of writing my thoughts has been useless for many years, yet I still sit here because it has become a habit. I suppose keeping a diary is common, too. I don’t know for sure because not only do I avoid people, but my experience and understanding tells me that most diaries are private. I’ll probably never know the truth. The fact is that I have been writing here more in the last five years than everything prior and I am so accustomed and connected to the process that to change at this point could be very difficult. Maybe the thought only came about because of the fact that I’ve been repeating myself, avoiding the title topics much of the time, and do not see the benefits any longer. I do enjoy typing, though. Perhaps I should return to the fictional endeavors rather than constantly complaining about everything which is unchangeable. Eh... I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know if I am capable of changing anything these days. I’ve never felt so weakened and detached from life. For the time being, I suppose my path should be the status quo. Well, except for the effort of trying to accomplish little things above and beyond the norm. 0934. The dry cleaning is nearly finished. I have to maintain pace today or I fear I will fall into the same vat of depression, and I really can’t have that shit right now. One day was bad enough. We shall see if my brain can drive my body and break out of the din for a while. Sometimes the reward doesn’t seem commensurate with the work, although such a factor should not fucking matter to me after all these years. Even though the rewards for which I wish every day do not seem to exist anymore. The truth is that I must learn to embrace whatever comfort I can find. 1126 is on the little clock and I am proud of my efforts so far today. The dry cleaning is out of the way, I went to the smoke shop and market, and I completed my daily routine. I also have a load of laundry in the washer. Oh, the morning cocktail? Yeah... Fuck the idea of skipping it. An icy glass of the depressant is next to me and just below the second show on my right-hand display. The only issue thus far today was one hell of a form within the shopping center. I caught sight of her as I was doing my little ‘turn around the town’ after shopping. Jesus... The legs on that woman. Whatever. The positives are outweighing the negatives right now. I believe upon finishing the laundry and straightening somewhat, the prediction is that my evening will feel deserved; quite the opposite of yesterday. The yoga pants notwithstanding, this day has been rewarding and I am pleased with having found the drive to accomplish more than I have in recent weeks. This is very good, hence the fucking whiskey. Heh. Friday morning. I have a little bit of time before the morning chores. The dragons are next to me, along with coffee to clear the cobwebs from my head. I was very pleased with the efforts yesterday, meaning today shall entail a nice, long morning. I could use some relaxation. I also need one hell of a lot of time here at this editor. Everything I accomplished yesterday helped me to relax during the evening, and that is key these days. During the daytime hours, my comfort should be a simple affair, whereas the later hours need attention in order to shine. Last night I felt as much. Today will not matter because I need to be secure in the knowledge that I am going to survive this period, and sometimes that adds up to being completely isolated. The sun will hopefully not shine through my window without a bit of cloud cover. I like the blinds to remain open because the view provides a more open feeling while relaxing here. 0808 is on the clock right now and I have the rest of the day to myself. The morsel has faded a bit of late, but I have no doubt she will rise once again if I become weak (very likely; very soon). I need to think about this for a while. Perhaps I can make it through to afternoon time without becoming a complete fucking basket case. I don’t want to be upset all day long. I’m sure once I kick off the routine I will rise a bit because that always happens. There is a comfort inherent in that mid-morning routine that I probably can’t adequately describe here, much like when I begin to feel nostalgic for the glow and then attempt to convey the emotions that roll through me like ocean waves. Nope. I can’t do justice to either of them. At least I have some daily aspects of life which still bring me some enjoyment. I suppose such a fact is better than nothing. I can already sense my brain heading toward some type of fall this morning. This is not good, so once again I’ll need to push. I don’t like pushing. Not a bit. If I am to come out the other side of this day, something has to happen and I have to be the one to do it. Ugh. The rest of the shit in my head will need to take a pause, if such a thing is even possible, and that includes the girl. I don’t want that fucking sin all wrapped around my business today. When she gets in my head, I can’t move in any direction without a hint of falling down. I am fallen this morning, so perhaps she did her job, as did my past. Wonderful. The sun is breaking through and then hiding, effectively forcing me to deal with tremendous brightness and then shade. It’s driving me crazy so I have to close the blinds for a while. Oh boy. This morning is beginning to feel desperate. It is the same direction that sent me through the gate instead of driving to one of our facilities at NASA on that fateful morning. This is not a good situation and it often makes me so angry that nothing in or around the house can help lift me out of the pit. Due to completing so much yesterday, maybe I’ll head to the garage later and continue with the chaincase work. I don’t know if it will help, but at least I can straighten up everything out there after weeks of mess. Again... Better than nothing. I’ve not really felt like working out there much this week. I did degrease some parts the other day, but immediately afterward was enough boredom to offset the feeling of accomplishment. Anger is non-productive most of the time. I am fallen anyway, so maybe the garage will be my best path for accompanying this mood. I really don’t know of any other methods for coping with this shit these days. Running away would be excellent right now if the resources were in place. Nope. I am a hole in the world. The time is now 1046 and I am beginning to lose all direction. I completed most of the routine aside from allowing the dishes to drip-dry for a little while. I’ll probably finish off the kitchen at lunch time. I pushed through this shit yesterday, effectively setting aside all of my issues and completing much work, but right now I have no idea how I accomplished such a feat. Not every day need be to the limit, but for fuck’s sake... I could use a fucking boost right now and none seem to be available. My head is the likely cause, too. Going sideways so early in the day is bad all around, and if the past is any indication, there is nothing I can do about it other than ride the train through the storm and hope to come out the other side in better mental shape. The odds are not in my favor, unfortunately. That is the truth. Today may turn into a big pile of shit. I need to stop going back in time. The glow is long gone and cannot return, meaning when I embrace that beautiful period and then come back to reality, I end up one rung further down the ladder of this existence. The main issue is that I continue to compare the present with the past. There is no way to reproduce such a wonderful time, either, so the healthy choice is to leave it behind and focus upon what can actually be done to improve my state. God damn does Osha have huge eyes. She is scary, yet the eyes cannot be denied. Anyway, I am thankful that the video media can transport me up and away from the miserable process of realizing where I am in life. I really am. Perhaps in order to push the past away again, I should drown myself in the media for a while and relax about everything. Sitting here analyzing only dredges up more than I can usually handle. There is media on the right-hand display, always, yet due to my overt sensitivity to so many modern-era tenets, I can’t relax and enjoy while writing. The media runs in the background as I await the wondrous moments that make the stories worthwhile. Perhaps I truly am beyond repair. No one is listening, nor does any of this shit matter beyond the walls of my own consciousness. ‘How in the fuck would you know? Cunt.’ -- Me I uttered those words last night while watching what we’ve been following during the evenings and with dinner. That response to some dialog on the show forced me to realize that I’ve become even more jaded than I had previously calculated. I am angry inside all the time. Most of it remains hidden away, and as such only causes the occasional outburst, and a quiet one at that. But the fact remains that I feel so much disdain that it is bordering upon hatred. I know of the cause, too, and the line of dialog ain’t it. Sometimes I feel that my position here as having zero effect upon the rest of the world is the only way to live. I cannot have a positive influence upon anything these days. Well, probably for the rest of my life, really, however long that may be. There is a deep cut inside me that was caused by others, yet I did not realize until just a few years ago that such a cut has forced me to see more than I had in the past. The latter has made me not only a deviant soul, but a person filled with feelings that cannot be discussed out loud. Make of that what you will. I don’t care because unless someone barges into my tiny world, nothing can affect me. Only I can affect myself. I don’t want to be attacked, either. I need to be left alone, good or bad as it may be. I always say no one is listening. In the long run, they are better off, believe me. Any discussion will make me angry. I recall watching another series a few years ago, within which there had been an exchange between a married couple that angered me beyond belief. I will not spell it out, however, for fear of being labeled (like so many other aspects of my personality that must remain absent from this content). When something like that transpires, I feel more alone than during any other time. The reason is my penchant for engaging in conversation and leaving the other person completely void of responses. In short, I have the capacity to paint them into a corner every fucking time. The same type of difficulty did not take place last night because I have learned that dealing with my psyche is not easy for anyone. Instead, I utter a complaint and then leave the issue alone. It then fades into the past. I have a plan for the next steps on the bike. Once my morning cocktail is gone, I will probably have a light lunch and then work in the garage for a while. The music can keep me company. In the event that my diminishing mood continues in such a vein, the entire neighborhood will know well enough to remain at a distance from my garage door. I have yet to decide if the door will open or not. Right now I just don’t know what may be best. The title has been lost for now. Maybe the titles have been lacking in meaning for a while. I don’t know if they have ever been important. Perhaps I should only date the entries. Saturday morning. 0733. I have very little business today. The control center will probably receive lots of attention. The motorcycle, too. Time will tell. My door did indeed open yesterday. I was able to finish cleaning the chaincase, and after allowing it to thoroughly dry in the sun, sprayed two coats of paint. Now it is sitting on my bench with one new oil seal in place. I should be able to get it back on the engine and transmission later today. While out there, I also cleaned all my tools and put them where they belong. Very nice. I intend to relax here and gather my thoughts for a while before transitioning to the work area. The longer morning with no early chores helps me to think without my time being broken into smaller segments. I enjoy these weekend mornings (mostly). The clock seems to move along slowly, meaning there is little pressure upon my head most of the time. The schedule is under my control, something I believe you already know to be critically important. I’ve become accustomed to the difficulties inherent in the show we’ve been following during the evenings. Years ago I actually gave up on some good programs due to a specific aspect of the action. Dealing with the way they put those moments together became a hardship. The language is something I am simply not going to avoid if I am to branch out at all, so I decided to just sit there and take it. As for the action? That one will not change. I have never understood it, nor will I in the future. Once I realize that the scripting has been massaged in a very unreasonable direction for specific results, the show becomes nothing more than an enemy. The resulting mood is such that I begin to see what society has accomplished in this life, and then I cannot see straight. There is an aspect of the dialog which can send me into a tailspin, but it is very rare, thankfully. So, for the time being, anyway, everything can move along as it has. Perhaps I have learned to be patient with people being worthless and demonstrating their need for attention. Maybe. As I said above... Time will tell.
I have to be careful with my tongue quite often because I know not how many other people might understand and/or identify with my anger. Well, I am in contact with perhaps four individuals these days, and but three in person, so maybe I need not be terribly concerned. The fact is no matter how many others may or may not be near me, the time could eventually arrive when I am in the company of more. Guiding my thoughts and considering my words are akin to using the turn signals in a car when no one else is in view. The process is a habit, and one may find they are ill-equipped to think clearly about rules (or what is important) if said habit is ignored for the most part and then only followed when required. Does that make sense? The habit means less chance of slip-ups. All this shit only means I need to be careful or one day I will run aslant of the wrong person and cause a big fucking problem. Regardless of my own inner level of acceptance regarding what took place within the video media scripting, I will remain alone in my thinking and find a lack of understanding for the way people consider the limits of society. No one is correct here, either. Not even me. I feel this way and have to keep my trap shut even though such analysis is educational and represents growth. I am still not ‘right’. I just feel it. So, when something comes along – such as the other night when I blurted my deference – the plan is to follow the habit and stay quiet. Such behavior could save me as well as the minds of others. Maybe. I could be overthinking all this shit. Whatever. I am unhappy with the manner in which society has driven the media into the fucking ground and cannot do anything about it. Due to the apathy and insensitivity of people, I have to alter my fucking behavior or risk being even more alone than I am right now. Splendid. Pissed off. No amount of fucking pants can fix it, either. I may never understand any of this shit. 0844. I didn’t have to close the blinds this morning thanks to the sky being overcast. I don’t know if this is better or not. Whatever. I saw some of those things right in front of me, others were further away. They were all real, though. Everything was real. Now? Nothing remains. Only memories and dreams. The sinful realm ebbs and flows; lately the former has taken me away from visions of her. They will return soon enough and catch me upside the head like always. There is nothing I can do to stop the dreams, nor can I simply shut off my desire. The last few occasions have cemented themselves to my consciousness and will not leave me alone. They do not fade, and that is in contrast to all the hundreds of visions out there in the world that come and go very quickly. The imagery eventually fades because I can only remember for so long. Even the pool girl is mostly gone, believe it or not. The sinful visions stay right there behind my eyes and taunt me as if to say ‘sorry, dipshit; none of this will ever belong to you, but you’ll continue to see.’ Wonderful. I can’t pull or push my way out of this realm, either. After last year and tons of supporting information injected into my tired brain, any recourse is either bullshit or gone for good. I will remain inside it for the duration. Those things I’ve seen? Gone, as well. There are only fantasies now. Memories, too. I was there. Now I am here. I am within the realm that is trying to best me. The time is now 0924 and I still have no clue as to how this day will proceed. My daily routine will not take much time, meaning if I wish to go beyond the norm, there will be the space to consider how best to proceed. The previous paragraph has my head all fucked over and twisted, so hopefully I can rise from it and perform work around the house without further issue. I really don’t like feeling this way at all. The time is now 0924 and I still have no clue as to how this day will proceed. My daily routine will not take much time, meaning if I wish to go beyond the norm, there will be the space to consider how best to proceed. The previous paragraph has my head all fucked over and twisted, so hopefully I can rise from it and perform work around the house without further issue. I really don’t like feeling this way at all. I’ve been floating along the same river and dealing with the pitfalls for so long that I no longer see another way to live. That is some very sad commentary. I suppose I’ll move away from this when the coffee is gone and work on my routine. After? I don’t fucking know. Like Tony said, ‘It’s all just a series of distractions until you die.’ I cannot disagree, although I still remember a couple of different periods in the past when I would have taken the opposite view of that statement. Not anymore. I really hope the other end of this day is comfortable. I could use it. Sunday morning. Coffee, cats fed, the show, all that shit. Sunday is perhaps my favorite day of the week now. The fact that today is the day is probably the most positive as possible after last night. I really need to embrace my Sunday and enjoy the business as much as I am able. Garbage, my kitchen, or whatever else I feel like doing. The evening became increasingly difficult due to the program we have been watching, yet not for reasons you might expect. I will say that my time living since the late eighties became all lined up inside my head and I began to realize a truth which is ugly. That is all I will say for now. The routine and other work today will help me to remain standing. My brain is full of information that I do not like. Yesterday I finally reinstalled the inner chaincase (twice, actually) with new oil seals and everything torqued to specifications. I am pleased with the work. I still need bushings before I can add the swingarm and get the bike off the jack, although my neighbor informed me yesterday that some of the parts should be arriving by Wednesday. In addition to the bike being fairly spread out all over the place, more items arrived from her parents’ house and the entire garage is now void of flat surfaces. I will have to take care of some organization out there today to ease my mind. In the space of less than two months, the garage has gone from nice and neat, as in ready for me to need the work space, to being completely out of order with no possibility for projects and repairs. I need to clean as many parts as I can and mount them on the motorcycle where they belong for reasons of calming my head. I realize this is all temporary, but still... I had a good thing going out there, like a sanctuary. I would imagine I can have the entire area in order by the end of this month. The temporary nature of such a project is part of what keeps me going. I enjoy assembling mechanical systems, too. At some point this will all be completed and the machine will be taken to the City for electrical work. Today is going to be a hardship due to what I recalled and felt last night. The program on the television was not the problem, only a catalyst that drove me to recall some things from the Midwest period, and some from shortly thereafter. All of my magazines came to mind, as did the daydreams I experienced during the second summer (I think). Escape from the doldrums and a very specific type of comfort were daily thoughts back then. Even moving forward in time eight years, the same dreams took me from myself and I wondered if I’d always be in the same position. There was a stark reference to something very specific which I had dreamed all those years ago and it started my brain on a different set of rails... Those with the end expected. Some twenty-odd years ago I ceased pursuing materials related to those dreams for reasons of self-preservation. They were driving me nuts and I guess I did not expect to be slapped in the face with such imagery after all this time. There have been many tiny references over time, yet nothing so detailed. At least I didn’t completely lose my shit. I am hoping the series does not head in a similar direction throughout the rest of its run. I really don’t need any more reminders of where I am. There was that first ‘thing’ some years ago. I couldn’t understand it, let alone fully describe the process. I felt the thing. Once, I even saw it, and was caught so off-guard that my brain was full of pain for weeks after the incident. Now I simply try to avoid the thoughts and imagery. That first thing is pretty old, too. It may date back more than thirty years. Even at my age, I still don’t understand it and most likely never will. A long time ago there was a conversation. The words were troubling and wonderful at the same time. They accomplished exactly nothing, however. There is no way to study or advance the reasoning behind the thing no matter the passage of time nor the minds involved. There is simply no way. Oh, but I have seen it. At the present, there is another thing. And another, from last year. I can’t talk about any of this shit in detail because no good can come of it. There has existed but one small set of ears, and they are gone. The issues within this fucked up paragraph are the true reasons for everything over which I have found turmoil throughout the last three years, or since the writing ramped up to its current level. ‘This, that and the other’, perhaps. Three items, three years. Two of them popped up just last year, and the other has been around much longer. That ‘thing’ is dreamy and improbable; mysterious and beautiful. And the other two? They bring me to my knees quite often. And then there is the realm."
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