January 27th, 2023 8:59am pst

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




The Sum of Sin

 read ( words)

"I’ll bet Portia looks fucking amazing on all fours.

Good morning.

So, the time is now 1207 and I have the usual routine finished, plus I went across town and had my car tested. All I have to do for the registration is pay the fee online. The other car is completely finished. Nice. I have not gone to the market yet, though, because I need to assess what we have in the fridge before planning meals. Having the routine out of the way is good and paves the way for me to perform a field expedient repair on the pants so they can be cleaned. I will also run some laundry. My third display has not yet arrived. I am looking forward to seeing all of them in operation and the control center completed. The morning cocktail is next to me and I have the show running on the right-hand display. All day long I’ve been thinking about those that I know who do not understand my desire to be home all the time. Well, no one is required to understand me because I am where I need to be. These days, my favorite place in the world is home.

I ordered a game from the late nineties that actually works with these newer incarnations of the operating system. I’m talking about a DOS game, and one I used to love when I built my first desktop computer. Well, the way the seller managed to rework the software works flawlessly on the laptop. The only downside is the fact that I did not include an optical drive on the new machine. I can add one later, though. No big deal. This discovery led me to the flight simulator that I adored many years ago. I am going to confirm that the audio within the updated version of the game matches that of the polyphonic system from the past. If so, I will purchase not only the game itself, but the same joystick that I used to have. DOS games do not always cooperate with the latest operating systems, but somehow the seller managed to adapt the software so the applications work as they did more than two decades ago. This is pretty cool.

1325 means snack time. I don’t want to eat too much because we have a nice dinner planned. The only pressing chore left on my list today is the mending of the pants. Dry cleaning them is simple. Because of the light level in the office, I’ll have to transition to the living room for a little while in order to perform the repair. Oy, my tuna salad is a bit mushy, probably due to the new can opener and associated learning experience with a machine which pulls the lid off completely rather than cutting out the center. I always used the cut piece to squeeze out as much moisture as possible so the albacore was not too wet. I’ll have to get one of those little plastic tools for extracting the liquid, I guess. Or, maybe stainless steel. No more soggy albacore.

Maybe I should include a capture of the three naked women that protect Lilith. Hmm.

‘Thank you ladies.’ God damn that woman is frightening.

1701. I had to spend a little time in the garage for the dry cleaning and laundry, and to listen to the news because there was another shooting about ten miles from here which was a little too close to her work for comfort. The good thing is within an hour or so the authorities had the person in custody. Thank goodness. There have been entirely too many of these incidents in recent times. Scary. This guy taking issue with Sam being a shifter is a complete asshole. Just saying. Yes, I am in the office once again and my show is keeping me company. I need this atmosphere more and more all the time. My third display has yet to arrive, but rest assured I am patient.

0658. Tuesday morning with coffee and my control center. The cats are fed. I don’t have a lot of time here before the early business. My display arrived last night so I’ll be working in the office for most of the morning. Pause...

Ok, here I am for the duration. The time is now 0811 and I already have the third display in operation. Chiclets on the right-hand display. You know. Or, you should by now. Wait a minute... Who am I addressing? No one can read this. Anyway, the two right displays are off to the side a bit, leaving room for a view out the window even with another monitor on my left. This table is freaking huge, I guess. The point is I have the machine itself, twin speakers, plus the three displays and there is still a ton of room on the surface. I didn’t want this area to feel cluttered and it certainly does not. My view out the window helps in that the office still seems open. Three displays. Do I need three? Nope, but I do love the screen real estate when there are multiple windows open. I used to have two displays connected to the old desktop, and at one point the one on the right was more than forty inches across the diagonal. Unbelievable. These are all less than thirty, and that is just fine. I quite literally have eighty inches of screen space.

Yesterday I pulled the covers off the loveseat cushions and washed them due to one of the cats leaving a little something for me in the morning. Today I am going to extend that idea and do the same with the sofa, plus vacuum both while the cushions are off. I need that room to be fresh. I will probably clean the floor, too. Why not? This office could benefit from some attention, so I’ll spend some time here getting files in order and finding better ways of storing a few things. I was not preoccupied by the sinful dreams yesterday, and so far today they seem to be taking it easy on my head. I know everything will return soon, though. I know it all too well. Oh, I almost forgot about adding the printer to this machine. Oops.

Done. And chiclets on the screen again. Heh. God damn does that girl have some teeth. I love it.

Holy shit would I love to fly into Bailey’s fucking pants. Nope. Basket case, nutcase, whack-job or whatever you want to call it. I want to fly into her pants.

Remember the fracture? There is another issue on the screen. Thank the maker that I always watch this show alone or I’d be all fucked up over some of the characters. I guess after all this time I have either seen or heard too much to just sit here and be comfortable with everything. I didn’t say nearly enough in that entry, either. Not even close. But I have to be careful in case I decide to actually begin publishing again in the future. That is a distinct possibility. The certainty is that feelings and fears run deep and I can’t get through a day without one difficulty or another derailing my brain at some point. Every day this happens. Every single day. As nice as my new office setup and control center are, I am still speaking of the same shit. So sad.

The day has moved along nicely. I see 1144 on the clock and the routine is finished. I have a little something in the oven for lunch. At some point I need to head across the street and assess the damage to my neighbor’s side gate. There are a few things I need from the hardware store, so perhaps I can combine the projects and roll them into one trip. When my gate was forced down by the wind some years ago, I opted to replace the hinges with a pair of much stronger units. The gate across the street may need the same type of improvement. I said the day has been nice, but the truth is I fell from on high and failed miserably a while ago; just before cleaning the kitchen, I believe. Now I feel like shit. At least the remaining hours will be peaceful and allow me to think about everything. This keyboard is the cat’s meow. I love the sound it produces through my typing. I have my requisite drink to the right and my program on display number one (the right side). I made the center display the main so I can roll the mouse pointer to either side as needed. If someone had told me last summer that I’d have a system so powerful and flexible just after the new year, I would have balked at the idea. Now? I am sitting in front of the control center daily. Moreover, because of the size of this table, I still have a nice view of the street and hills despite eighty inches of screen real estate. And there is the ‘fracture’ character again. He reminds me of so many difficult and ill-advised conversations that I shudder to know the precise number. Ugh. At least I am alone. Better than nothing, I suppose.



01

There is a beach hazard in effect until tonight due to king tides and wind. Yikes. For those who are unaware of king tides, just know they are dangerous. Holy Jesus fuck on a tractor, there is Sylvie and her amazing features. Whatever. She is fictional despite the actor being a real person. Reality is not good. Fiction is better. What I wouldn’t give to be the one making her hair bounce all over the place. Eh... I’d fail. Fuck it anyway. I was talking about the tide and my brain segued into physical desire. Big fucking surprise. Well, I don’t have to worry about king tides because I never go to the beach. Laugh it up. I need to be alone.

Do you see the last image? Jason is awesome. And there is a quote from Eric that I need to include here. I think it should be coming along within the next few episodes. I love this show so much that most of the time I can barely find the words. I’ll tell you one thing in support of that statement, and that is I am in the seventh season for the second time in mere weeks. I used to roll through the gangsters in half a month, but always switched to something else after the finale. This time? I started the series over again just minutes after the last episode played. I am a basket case in more than one respect. Believe it, people.

Holly still annoys me quite a bit. Oof... Jessica was nearly shot.

1418. Lunch is out of the way and I went across the street and performed a field expedient repair on the neighbor’s gate. The problem will need to be addressed by a professional, however, because there is damage to the lumber and it should be replaced. Short of some massive wind storm, though, I believe it’s fine. The latch is a piece of shit, too. I will replace it for them once I take a trip to the hardware store.

I have a visitor coming by at 1500 so I can pay for the next three months of our split subscription to live television through the streaming stick, and to give away a few vegetables. I am fairly tired after repairing the gate in the sun, so perhaps washing the sofa cushion covers should wait until tomorrow. Work around the house is pretty light, so if I have to do something more involved, I end up needing to relax a while. Fortunately, my time belongs solely to me. I can see this system further truncating my life, as well. I’ll have to keep it in mind.

1630. Here I am back in the office with my show and mental devices. The visit was very nice. The temperature has been fairly warm all day so I opened two windows to air out the house, but within an hour or so the sun has moved to that threatening angle again, meaning everything is closed once again. The cold sets in pretty quickly this time of year. At least I didn’t have to run the furnace during the day. The utility bill was high during the last two months of the previous year. Yikes. I don’t have anything else to do before preparing dinner. The house is nice and quiet aside from the occasional scream from Ginger. Heh.

The sin rarely leaves my head for any decent amount of time. Today it has been on my mind here and there, likely not overpowering me due to the work on the gate and the visitor. Wow... Amber has chiclets just like her sister. Anyway, sometimes the visions and damaging dreams get the best of me and other times I push them away in favor of productive thoughts or activities. I can’t always do that, though. Once I see a reminder or something right in front of my eyes, everything goes sideways. I’ve not been hit in the face for some weeks, yet I can still picture that moment with complete clarity. I never realized Karolina is five-nine. Geez. Anyway, the processes inside my head have not changed despite the passage of time. In fact, I often find myself completely deluded and floating through a dream world in which I can see whatever, whenever. There is more, too. I just don’t see the need for excruciating detail when it comes to those visions. I probably already have, as well, and forgot. I write so much that there are likely hundreds of repeats. Not a day goes by that I am not picturing some sinful situation or other improbable byproducts of my desire to devour that girl. My brain is saturated with sin. Enough.

Pam just called herself a ‘republicunt’ after looking in the mirror to check her appearance before heading into a convention. Awesome. God bless her fucking sense of humor. And I just realized after sitting at this table for almost half an hour with hands in my pockets that I have nothing else to say today. Maybe I’ll tell a story tomorrow.

0643, Wednesday morning. I can already see a lot of computer time on the horizon for this day. I have the early business shortly, after which I fully intend to relax in the office for the duration. All of the other extraneous work was finished between Sunday and yesterday. Even my early stuff will be very straightforward. I’d like to work in this room for a while and see how much I can improve the space within which I spend so much time.

0730. The early business is complete and the remainder of the day is all mine. I do have to drive over to the goddess market later for some vegetables and staples, but that’s it unless I decide to make a stop at the hardware store. I may go a little early, too, due to my not having any cream for my coffee this morning. I had to put some white chocolate cream liqueur in order to calm my drink. Not much, but enough to make me realize I should have remembered to shop yesterday. I guess between my visitor and working on the neighbor’s gate derailed my planning somewhat. This is no big deal, however. I’ll take care of the shopping in a little while. Violet is doing that thing she knows will sway the subject of her attention. Is that stereotyping? Probably. The fact is I may not appreciate the idea being splayed on the television, yet I’ve made my share of comments on this site, not to mention the thousands of images. Anyway, today will be primarily for my comfort and mental health rather than any sort of work. The office will help even more than it did in the old days when I sat here and crafted those scathing and damaging words that very few people read. I have more time and more space than ever before, so when I need a day of relaxation, the devices leading to such an end are all around me. Today is that day.

This is one of those mornings when the emotional difficulties are pushed back somewhat in favor of my deep appreciation for what I’ve built here in this room, plus all of the time to myself. I have to remember to keep the positives in mind whenever I begin to fall off a cliff during the morning. The comfort inherent in sitting where I am at this very moment is still striking and wondrous. I don’t see it changing anytime soon. I used to have a big desktop system, yet very little actual quiet time to enjoy it and find the direction necessary for fully exploring the inside of my head. Now I have both, including an updated machine that operates infinitely better than that of the past.

The sin will grab hold of me soon and drive the content in a bad direction. I already know it. For the time being, I’ll try to remain clear. Oh, boy... I refilled the coffee with a peppermint liqueur and it’s much better than the previous cup. Not a lot of booze, either. All I need is a bit of flavor and something to cut the acidity of the beans in order for it to be satisfying. Reverend Daniels is wearing a hell of a nice shirt. Just saying. 0820. This is just what I needed today. The office is very peaceful, especially considering I still have a nice view out the window with three displays. I might slide the right-hand monitor further away in order to maximize the view of the hills, though. The more I work in this room, the more I can (hopefully) shove the sinful dreams and visions to the rear and keep my head on straight for as long as possible.



02

Bad things go through my head sometimes but there is still a fucking positive. Everything remains inside me. No one knows the full weight of this situation, nor can they guess as to the extent of such a condition as it has developed since last year. Not a soul can read into this crap. That makes me feel a bit more comfortable. Moreover, I’ve not published anything since before Christmas, that sole entry being the only one remaining in the production environment. All the titles are there, yet the links are all broken. I wanted the site this way, too. Nothing good has come of the content being available to the general public. The one rub is the idea that some enterprising, young mind may be able to locate and view all of the essays since they reside on the server. I can move them around, but the server is on the Internet and I don’t know enough about the login process to effectively secure my work. If I feel that the bad things need to be completely off the Internet, I’ll remove them from the server and store the content on the RAID. My system is level one, meaning the data is ‘mirrored’ across four independent drives for redundancy and protects my work in case one of the drives experiences a failure of sorts. I plan to expand the redundant storage in the near future. For the time being, there is little else I can do.

0912 and I have yet to begin my daily routine. The more I see the principal character, the less I like her face, and then I think of all those others who endlessly gushed all over the place for the very same person. I just don’t get it at all. Her face has lost whatever attractiveness it once carried, and believe me... It wasn’t much to begin with. I simply don’t see it. Whatever. I have other reasons for sticking with this program and the least of them far outweighs the issue.

The sinful thinking has been summed into one large issue. Everything from last year added to the recent visions and sightings (don’t even get me started on the Christmas movies) is rolled into a giant ball of trouble and threatening to roll right over me. Nothing can fully alleviate so much fucking desire, believe me. Nothing. Yesterday I was daydreaming of the past and nearly lost my shit for a moment. Fortunately, what little strength I have left began to take over and provided me enough time to calm and clearly think about what I was about to do. That was good, but I can’t count on a thread of constitution to save me in the future. One of these days if I am put into the same situation I may completely break down and do something I’ll regret later. The sinful thinking has distorted me to the point of feeling more desire than I can remember in a very long time. Desire is dangerous. The sin narrows my brain to a single set of rails and then memories drive the train until I come close to losing it completely. I can’t have that right now.

The time is now 1046 and I have the routine nearly finished. I decided to let the dishes drip-dry for a while so I could work in this office and straighten some things. I have the show in the background again, and for the love of God I keep picturing Ashley’s form all over the place. Good Christ would I love to fly up her sundress and plant my hungry lips to her delicate labia. Roughly two episodes from now she will be parading around Jason’s house in a t-shirt with NOTHING underneath. The actor never appeared nude, but I’ll tell you what... Her breasts have GOT to be something special. What I wouldn’t give to see those warm globes right in front of my face. Holy shit Jesus fuck and everything else do I ever want that girl. There you go. Shoot me in the neck. I don’t fucking care. Anyway, soon I’ll shower and drive over to the goddess market for a few items that will help with dinner tonight. I also have to wash the cushion covers from the sofa just like I did the other day with the loveseat. While they are being laundered, I’ll vacuum both couches. This is the first time in more than ten years that I washed those covers, and let me say they really improved by doing so. The cushions are back to their original shape, too. Tons of pluses to the work I’ve been completing lately. I have the requisite glass of icy whiskey next to me in order to deal with seeing Ashley and Bailey without totally losing my fucking mind. Damn. I’ve never felt so much physical desire while being alone. Jesus fuck, anyway. I don’t need this shit right now.

Wow, do I ever love this new office setup. If ever I needed something to boost me after last year and the fucking damaging dreams and subsequent visions of beauty, this is the solution. The system can’t fix all my problems, but it has the ability to help me relax in my little control center, cocoon, or whatever you wish to call it. This is super comfortable.

I am sitting here again at 1323 with a snack and the show. I went to the market to grab what we needed, and then returned to my chores. I stripped the sofa cushions and tossed them in the wash along with a top sheet off the bed, and then vacuumed both couches. All I have to do now is wait for the covers to come out of the dryer and then reassemble. I also have everything ready for dinner tonight. I just need to clear the dining table and set up our stuff. Overall, I am feeling accomplished and positive. There were pants at the store but I didn’t care. There is always something to see in that place. And there is Ashley in high definition again. A closeup, too. I generally gravitate toward dark hair and eyes, but oy God she is so fucking unique, even with a mass of blonde hair. Where in the blue fuck did Hoyt find that girl? Another dimension? Jesus. Ashley is becoming more and more beautiful as time passes. Anyway, the rest of the day should prove to be pretty mellow thanks to all of the work I’ve done.

Twenty minutes later, the linens are in the dryer. Very nice. And Ashley is appearing more and more gorgeous as the scenes go by. Fuck. I could use a beer right about now. Heh.

Ok. At 1514 I finished everything. The sofa and loveseat are cleaned and assembled, preparations for dinner are in place, and I pulled the center leaf from the dining table and stored it. The dining room is much larger now.

The realm has faded again, presumably for the time being. Maybe the housework pushed everything away for a while. Oh boy, Bill is about to do something I wish he wouldn’t. He does it in style and with respect, yet the whole thing is just plain depressing. Ugh. Anyway, the day has not hammered my brain like yesterday, nor have I fallen on my face over the sinful thoughts. They have not gone away, however. The dreams and visions enter my head several times every day. There is no stopping that shit. The intensity is subdued, I guess. Maybe everything related to the sinful realm faded due to my gushing over Ashley again. Eh, I don’t fucking know. My feelings regarding that character have increased ten-fold throughout the last two viewings of the series, so perhaps the sin has been diluted, or something. Whatever. I’m sure I’ll feel like shit soon enough and sit at the keyboard repeating all this crap. The office has helped to keep me out of the garage during the day, and such a fact contributes to a layoff of a measure of desire. That may sound odd, but it’s true. When I spend time out there doing whatever, certain moments from the past haunt me and I cannot reveal the reason. The facts are there, though, and I am reminded whenever I have music playing. The wireless MDRs have been resting, meaning the music only comes from the garage. The combination of my hobbies and certain tracks from two playlists conjures memories every time I am out there. The office feels completely different despite all of the writing being done within the same. None of this is easy to explain. There are key facts that I have left out (and will continue to do so) because they are far too damning. I am sitting here at this very moment much more comfortable than yesterday, and the fading sinful realm is the reason. I need a footrest under the table. And there is Ashley clad in the aforementioned shirt sans any support for what has got to be a fucking stunning pair of breasts. See? Not everything fades. Just the sin.

I am looking forward to the evening. This one should be pretty relaxing since I’ve already prepared a bunch of stuff for dinner. I can sit with my cocktail and something familiar on the televisions. Sometimes doing so creates space for clear thinking. Not all my thinking is positive, yet still... The time and peaceful atmosphere can be helpful. The sum of sin shall return soon enough. I may as well enjoy the comfort while it lasts. And one more time for emphasis, I’d rather be home with all this difficulty than anywhere else, least of all work. I still don’t miss it. This evening will prove to be what I need after a day of housework.



03

Sometimes I drop the windows on the left display to darken the room a touch. I love having all this technology in front of me. My show is approaching its end once again. I’ll have to think about where to go from here. Curious, when I am working elsewhere, I generally put on one of the five science fiction programs. In this office, though, it’s almost always one of the ‘big four’, meaning the more harsh, unrelenting media. Ah... There was Eric’s quote I mentioned. The one for which I’ve been waiting...

‘I’ve tried trusting; I’ve tried sharing, and it’s just not fuckin’ working for me.’ Love. It.

The time is nearly at hand for transitioning into evening mode. I’ll have to see if my neighbor still wants to spend time outside with a few beers. To be honest, I don’t know if I feel like it. All those memories that come to mind when I am out there.

The more I see the king’s mansion, the more I recall those big drawings and the moment I found the magazine advertisement which caused my creativity to find a direction. The magazine was purchased when I lived in the Midwest and led to the first home design. If we go back to the very first inspiration for my designs, the calendar would have to be flipped all the way to the early eighties. That was the beginning of my brain seeing certain features inside houses that I wanted to bring to life. My friend and I used to ride our bikes up near my uncle’s house and dream of where we wanted to be years later. All the way from my first glimpses of theming to the very beginning of the pandemic, I always felt that on the horizon would be one of those designs. Now? I don’t fucking see anything changing in such a fashion. Nothing. This little electronic empire that I built along with the garage are the two accomplishments that I can enjoy. Anything further has faded into a sea of depression and the realization that the steps required for such wonder were never taken. I’ve gone over this before, too, and I bring it up now due to a statement above regarding the sin fading when I sit in this newly-featured office. The one nail sticking out of my head with more power over me than anything else in the universe is the realization mentioned in this paragraph. I never did anything and sit here as a product of my directionless past. The downside to my ability to push the sinful realm away is that I will wade in even murkier waters as a result of embracing those dreams of years gone by.

0754 on Thursday morning. I already took care of the morning business and have seated myself at the control center with coffee and my friends up there on the right-hand display. And I have ‘normal’ coffee this morning rather than the experimental crap from yesterday. My trip to the market means all the typical staples are stocked. Fresh cream for the coffee is very important when I first awaken.

Yesterday there was a girl walking her dog and I caught sight due to her trying to get the doggie off my lawn because she saw me in the garage. I wanted to tell her that the dog is welcome in the yard, but she trotted away, possibly due to all of the signage visible behind where I had been standing. Well, once I spotted the ‘pants’, I made it a point to watch her walk toward the east and I quickly noticed that her gait and the structure of her legs and rear were a near-match to that other girl. You know... From the dreams. I have rarely seen such a bubble strolling along this street. The sight drove me nuts for a few minutes before finally fading and leaving me alone with my thoughts. And the first thought? Yep... I wanted to see what she would look like on all fours. Something about that rear end just screams for such positioning, if for nothing more than just to see the exaggeration of her lines. I am not one of those who prefers a big rear end. Not even close. She had a bit of a bubble, that’s all. Overall? The girl was fucking gorgeous. I may have seen her before, too, and just forgot. The correlation to the subject of those dreams is rather close, although right out of the gate I know there is one clear difference. The subject of the dreams is a dream in and of herself, and my desire to see everything continues to grow. Roughly once per hour I find myself daydreaming about what I have already gazed upon along with all that I need to see. Once per hour, every fucking day. I don’t even know how many times I’ve stated that I want her after all this time, so here is one more: Jesus fucking hell do I ever want that girl and the dog walker yesterday brought the sin back to mind with full force. Now I can go back and forth with the topics again. Recall though, that I cannot reveal much. I am in a bad spot here but at least I’m the only one who knows it. This bad spot is going to continue because my eyes will not stop searching for... Something. I don’t know what it is. Maybe one of the subjects of my earlier dreams. Remember? A woman who can save me. Or Jamie. I don’t know, but there is something for which I am searching every minute of every fucking day, and every time I see a form even slightly similar to that of the damaging dreams, I lose my shit for a little while, become dangerously angry, or simply fall on my stupid face with desire. All this crap from one ass waddling along the sidewalk. Yep.

I saw the other pants twice yesterday and dreamed again. Not the one walking the dog, another person, and not in the market. The pants led to massive desire like always, and then I pictured all manner of shit like a proper whack job, ninety percent of which cannot be fucking spelled out. I don’t know whether or not I am supposed to hyphenate ‘whack job’. After running a search of the entire site, I saw that only recently have I begun to include a hyphen. Whatever. The term is the same either way. Where was I? Ah... Her pants and everything waiting inside them. The sheer measure of sin inside my brain is unbelievable, and feels similar to what I felt with one person some years ago. I can’t have a relational fucking sentence here, so everything shall remain as ambiguous as possible. If I get nervous, my desire to swallow her in one piece will be further shaded. The scrim is always available and sometimes I worry about my words, meaning I’m glad I have such an option. The sin grips me. It keeps me warm in a bad way. The sin is just one more fucking situation that I must endure if I am to embrace my little comforts and such. Oh boy, there is the Red woman. Wow. Amazing. Anyway, speaking of red, yesterday was one of the red-letter varieties because I made a connection between two recent realizations and something from a few years ago that I think about quite a bit. No, not the girl at the pool. That was different. I am speaking of a connection I had not seen prior to relating the dog walker and the girl from my dreams. The pants are the common denominator, obviously, yet there is more and it is a situation I think about often enough to nearly drive myself insane. This is yet another subject upon which I cannot elaborate. Oh, shit. I forgot about Marjorie for some months. Christ... What I wouldn’t give to surf across her lips. Well, I may have already said enough for an enterprising young mind to connect the dots of desire, or perhaps I haven’t. I don’t know and probably never will unless I publish all this shit and wait for backlash.

I think I’m going to replace all the images within the only entry that is available for viewing right now. The existing photos need to go away because they are beginning to irritate me. Lena Headey is absolutely beautiful, yet her character’s mindset and arc ruin it much of the time. That’s right, kids. I switched to the dragons because the vampire story came to an end for the second time this month.

And now due to choosing a continuation of this series, I have to suffer through multiple sequences involving Nathalie and her never-ending thrall upon me and prowess as one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. Damn it. There is always something. My tongue would come out of her fucking nose, mark my sordid words. I swear to Christ, if the opportunity to worship that woman’s unbelievable anatomy presented itself and the cost was my very life, I would dive and enjoy regardless of the consequences. Yummy. Anyway...

0935. I don’t believe I need to go anywhere today. There is some dry cleaning awaiting my attention along with the daily routine, and I am anticipating lots of time sitting right here in this chair. The control center is comfortable and still serving as a reminder of the very old days when I first built this site from scratch. I will rise soon and switch to the other show while caring for the housework. Taking breaks from the computer is necessary at times despite the quality of the display technology. I have the correct eyeglasses, too, yet moving away from this machine several times each day is very important.



04

1107. The routine is finished and I have a nice pizza ready to go into the oven. Good stuff. I also have my typical glass of depressant sitting next to me just below the dragon display. Heh. Whatever. I need to figure out the rest of my day. The dry cleaning is one item on the list, the other being a dimmer switch for the dining room. Unfortunately, the only dimmer I have was modified for use with the patio lights. The ears have been cut, so the trim cannot be mounted to the switch. Damn. I was hoping to install a part I already have rather than buying one at the hardware store. I suppose I could get the garage in order today since the weather is warm again. Right now I just don’t know, though. Most of my ideas these days start out really good and then end up squashed by difficulties, much like yesterday when I sighted that amazing girl floating down the sidewalk. Everything went sideways in an instant and I guess my full faculties still have yet to return. One more interesting tidbit is the fact that the person who had been failing to respond to my messages (and forgot my birthday, by the way) sent a request for a favor. Within minutes of my hesitation to respond, the same person called my phone but did not leave a voice message. Ah, shit. There is Oona. You want to talk about a fucking delicacy? God damn shit fuck would I love to slather that woman’s tenderness. In a gentle, loving manner, of course, because she is of the fairer sex and as such is automatically deserving of care. Not every woman, mind you, but some. Fucking hell am I ever fucked up. Anyway, I decided that due to being contacted only when the person needs something, I decided to put the world on ‘ignore’ again. I’ve not done so for some months, either. I can sit in this comfortable chair and sip my drink and look out the window with nary a care for what others may want of me. I have my chores and little enjoyments. I can’t say that the deep needs and desires don’t play a part in my days, but I will state that the importance of being here alone cannot be overstated, nor will I be stirred by anyone. That type of behavior causes anger. This is not the first time, for sure. I can recall three distinct occasions of the same requests from last year, none of which blew my skirt up. The fact is I am overjoyed to reside within a situation that allows me to flex my intentions and dissatisfaction when necessary. This is yet another benefit of living in this house and of the current period as I have crafted it.

Lunch will be ready in a few minutes. Afterward, I think my best course is to don my boots and head out to the garage for some organization. I can also run the dry cleaning and keep an eye on the timing. My mood was diminished slightly by knowing that I am only contacted when someone needs a favor, so music shall accompany my work after lunch. Not loud music, yet enough volume to keep passers by at a distance. There is always the slim chance that the person to whom I’ve been referring will drive by to see if I am home, so the media of choice will be fairly unpleasant and far from the mainstream embraced by this generation. I need to make it clear that I am not the person to be used as a tool. Ah, the oven timer just told me lunch is ready. Nice.

Marjorie is quite the dish. Unfortunately, she is required to associate with one of the most psychopathic characters in the history of broadcast television. What a piece of shit. One brain cell should inform him that not only is she fucking gorgeous, but also intelligent and cunning. Oh, well. I didn’t write this stuff.

There are a few key scenes in this series that I must either skip or mute. There is one scene halfway through the gangster series, yet none during the run of the vampire stories. Interesting. I will say that a few years ago while watching a film, I had forgotten a sequence of events within the story due to the passage of time. Well, upon realizing what was to take place during the shot, I dashed outside without pausing the playback, whiskey in hand. Such is me. I will not describe the scene, nor will I willingly identify the film.

1429. I finished the dry cleaning and straightened the garage a bit. There is a ton of styrofoam that due to some ridiculous reason cannot be recycled in this town. I don’t understand. Residents must bring the material to the yard across town where there is little parking and no direction. Fuck that. I tend to break things down to pieces because we have the smallest trash can, so I began to do the same with the foam. Some weeks will pass before it’s all gone. These three beautiful displays came packaged well for protection, which leaves me the unenviable task of disposing of everything. Also while out there I took the broken neon sign and removed all of the glass and mounts. I believe I can light the remaining plastic for a nice display. Time will tell if I can find enough ambition to accomplish such a feat. Anyway, since everything out there is in good order, I decided to relax in the control center for a while with my friends on the right-hand display. They can be harsh and violent at times, but I’m used to it. I am also plenty familiar with the occasional gorgeous visions, too. I am going to capture a few for reasons of good form. The garage work and dry cleaning were pleasant thanks to the weather being even warmer than yesterday.

‘Stay away from her’. Ooh-fa... The Red woman.

I don’t need to see anything else in this life. There have already been plenty. The last one was simultaneously the best and worst. The toughest, for sure. I could not believe what I had been seeing and now cannot forget. Unreal. Ungodly, really. That was the most stirring and enticing shot in memory. Good God, there is Nathalie again. Fuck. Tongue. Nose. Draw a map. Anyway, all fucking stunning beauty aside, I will not soon be able to forget what I saw that day after suspecting and wondering for some months. I calculated what I could and then became floored by the reality. Some aspects of life cannot deceive me for long. The difficulty in knowing what has been going on in there follows me at each step of every day. Attached to that container of dreamy visions is a vat of sin. The sum of all of it, in fact. After so many years of this shit, I should have known something like this would develop.

There went that girl from up the street again. Jesus, she is so damned thin.

0653 on Friday morning. Dreams again. I was out of my mind for her, trying to be close without anything bad happening, and yearning to dive into her hair. I sat next to her, watched her face drop when she spoke of an activity with which she had been involved. I tried to help by pointing out positives. She accepted and smiled but would not look upon my eyes. Again I went forth with the benefits and other aspects that could help in the future, and again she smiled that beautiful way only she can. And? No eye contact. I sat for a moment and then headed to the garage through a torrential rain storm to meet two fellows interested in something I had been building. They had nothing to do with the rest of the dream, but the distraction of talking with them about the project did allow me to clear my head of the girl and move along as if everything was fine. God damn, I just wanted to hold her, but alas the opportunity did not present itself. At least she smiled. It was a downward glance, yet still a smile. So beautiful.

The early business is about to command my time for the next little while. Afterwards, I’ll return here and speak more about that dream (or were there two?) along with whatever else may seem best.

0800 straight up and here I sit until the coffee is gone. For some reason, my neighbor’s garage door is part way open and his car is not there. I’ll have to keep an eye on the front of his house until something else happens. Very strange. As for today, I do need to visit the market for a few items but there is very little housework to be done, so a trip to the store is not a big deal. What is a fucking trial is dealing with another dream. There is not enough work in the world to pull that shit from my memory. She was sitting right next to me and so fucking cute that there are not enough words in existence to get the point across. That girl very nearly broke me when I awakened. Maybe I’ll sit here until heading to the store and then take care of my daily housework afterward. Ah, shit... Nathalie again. Ooh-fa. Her lips are a universe all their own. Fuck. Anyway, I will try to keep myself busy so the visions and dreams don’t take over and cause me to fall into a pit of anger and desperation. That is never good and can lead to things that are even worse.

The sin has expanded. I’ve gone to some lengths in order to secure imagery in my head so I can see her over and over. Sinful, deviant images, for sure. Believe me, you don’t want to know. I’ll deal with this feeling as I see fit because the subject matter has become so important that there is nothing I can do to alleviate the pain of knowing there are aspects of life that do not exist for me. I have an entire theatre inside my head running films of dreamy situations that are completely fictional. I can’t change anything. I can’t say anything. I can’t do anything. And then just when I see a drop of epic proportions approaching on the rails to the rear, another fucking strike pushes me to believe that my world ended more than two years ago and nothing I’ve accomplished since has meant a Goddamned thing. My brain continues to focus upon the sinful realm and all it encompasses. The rest of the universe is tertiary and meaningless.

I need to know, yet I'll never know because it is sinful."



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