Foiled Worship Mature content No. 349 Published January 6th, 2023 10:03am pst read ( words) Past entries "Being damned is not the reason I was so pissed off in the last one. Anger over the way some people have spoken to me for the last few months came to a head and I had to say something. Feeling as if my entire life is damned does not make me angry at all. I am unhappy, but becoming angry over the situation is not going to accomplish anything. The damaging dreams frustrate me quite a bit sometimes and then I flare, but the situation is nothing serious. I am not going to lash out at an individual, just the world. Most of the time, actually, my mood goes south because of other people, not feeling desire for that fucking girl. The feeling will peak sometimes and then I go on a tirade because of being in this position after five years of being completely fucked over for no good reason. The root of that shit is people, nothing else. I’ve been in a position to feel relief on a few occasions, too. Damned few. They all went away just like everything else. Back to the gray of reality, we float. And there is Portia. Wow. Beautiful hair on that woman. And? Much more. Ugh. Keeping all this shit to myself is fantastic because I don’t need to worry about anyone taking issue with my words or some errant gushing about a woman on the screen. Or? Anything else. I really don’t like the idea of placing my thoughts here for ME and then hearing some shit because a person disagrees or doesn’t like the manner in which I’ve built this site. Go build your own. It’s pretty easy. Anyway, This is the fourth entry since I ceased publishing. It feels nice. Any positives during this difficult time are going to be embraced. As much as I’d like to embrace something else, this is all I have anymore. Full control over this endeavor is becoming more important with each passing day. Honestly, I’ve pulled the content in the past with the intention of never making it available to other people in the future. Unfortunately, there are times when I must speak and ensure my words are public. Whatever the circumstances, sometimes the shit simply has to be available to others. My words are often nothing more than raw feelings, the most striking of which is anger, so when I become full of disdain for a person or people, the shit on the site follows suit (much like toward the end of the last entry. I don’t care if anyone reads the rest of the writing. I only want them to read the anger because they are the cause. 1106. I finished half the routine because the kitchen is fine for the time being. I’ll take care of it after lunch. I also went to two markets for a few items. The return trip had me at sixes and sevens for the umpteenth time because of a girl walking up the boulevard. My brain instantly rolled back the clock to the damaging dreams and subsequent visions. I simply could not believe the sight of her pants and legs. There appeared a feature that I hesitate to mention, though. I’d rather leave it out of this essay because should the information eventually make it to the production environment, I will probably receive a blast of shit. Her gait drove me insane as I made my way up the road to the small market. Damn it. At least I have a glass of whiskey to calm the mood for a while. The second market held its own fascination in the form of one of the owners (I think) at the register. She is frightening, always very efficient and polite, yet there is almost zero personality coming through while she works. It’s as though she is not happy to be at the checkout lane. I usually see younger people there, so perhaps the older woman was simply filling in for a while. Whichever the case, her face and everything below is wondrous. I can see the beauty behind her glasses and blank expression, and I can sense that outside of work and in a different atmosphere, the woman would likely be amazing to see. I will never know because in addition to being so dark and mysterious, there is an issue. My brain calculated that she may be the type to look gorgeous until the mood turns south. That is one of the scariest traits in existence due to the reasons why a person may exhibit such behavior. Well, she’s lovely, anyway. All I can do is look, much like the stunning girl on the boulevard. Anything else is most decidedly impossible. I really don’t like the fact that I feel worship for some of these visions – most notably the subject of the damaging dreams – and cannot do anything about it. There is no outlet whatsoever, although I’m sure some would see this exposition as cathartic. Well, it is not. I continue to slowly decline and withdraw, all the while flirting with the idea that my life ended some years ago and all I’ve been doing is floating along in my own netherworld. Worship is not good. It is off-balance, weak, and any number of other negative labels apply to feeling this way, most of which I’ve already stated here in spades. What? Did you say ‘desperation’? Yes, that too. This is a very bad situation. But... Does it matter? Will my words change anything? You decide. 1309. The laundry is almost finished and lunch is out of the way. I am still thinking about that fucking girl on the boulevard earlier. What a sight. Don’t ask what was going through my head as I drove. Everything from lines and measurements to... Use your imagination. Few occasions have found me close to those lines, and each was a failure of sorts. I don’t know why the sight of lines is always accompanied by fear. Jesus’ father on this show is a fucking asshole. 1540. Well, I went over to the hardware store to pick up bird seed because the feeder was empty. I like to keep the little guys happy. I couldn’t think of anything else, though. Upon returning, I decided to remedy the fucked up rain gutter situation in the back and deal with that shitty patio cover (which is to be completely rebuilt this spring). Whoever added the cover failed to consider water flow and left a half-inch hole for drainage from one gutter to another. One leaf could block the flow, and did just that. I basically tore the end off the fucking thing and whatever remaining water from the last storm ran down the spout. Hopefully, this will ease the overflow at the opposite end. There is a storm scheduled to arrive late tonight. I can’t WAIT to see that Goddamned patio cover torn to pieces and made to disappear. The replacement will be an integral part of the redesigned roof line. Very nice. There was nothing of note in the store, just in my head... The damaging dreams, that personality trait I found in the eighties, and the visions since the first dream came along have all combined into one massive cyclone of desire and wishful thinking. I am beginning to worship the creation. My out-of-balance life is tipping further. No visions. That is good and bad. I am absolutely yearning for a repeat of the last occurrence and losing my mind at the same time. What I saw was alluring beyond belief. I’ve not had many chances, and most of the time the glimpse is so fleeting that for a split second I am somewhere else, as if no longer present for any conversation or the like. My brain melts and begins to worship what I’ve seen. I can’t help it, either. Nothing in the world has pulled at me with such force. I need her to be the one who makes everything go away. The lines are in there, too. I already know. But I cannot say. Vampires are still gracing the second display. I keep thinking about the desktop machine and the days ahead allowing me to set it up correctly for my needs. Yes, I said need, not want. All of the other conditions and situations have boiled down to one simple fact, and that is I need them all rolled up into one savior. I need her. Everything is impossible. Worship is unhealthy. 0644 on Wednesday, January the fourth. A storm should be arriving later. I hope my work yesterday helps the situation somewhat. I have no plans to go anywhere today because I’ve been informed the harshest part of the weather will be during business hours. At least that means I get to experience it rather than waking up to the effects like most of the time. I love it when the planet makes us feel small. As for anything beyond the normal routine, I believe continuing in the office and trying to reorganize the storage will be best. I also have an idea for a cabinet modification in the kitchen which will ease the storage in that room, too. I need to do some woodwork to such an end, so perhaps the idea will not go beyond the planning stage today. I don’t like to be out there when the wind is strong. The doors may need to remain closed. The office will be my sanctuary once again. This space is becoming more comfortable than I had originally thought. Concern I am weaker than ever, and now with a new cherry on top. This is fucking peachy. The previous paragraph (filler while I try to think) seems positive and productive. But now? I have to go back into the negative space and daydream about her. Sometimes this is the best part of the day but it can lead to the worst. More often than not, actually. There is a distinct possibility that when I dream without remembering the details, my head continues in the same mood on a subconscious level, like as I sit here with my coffee and try to sort things out. If true, it would explain why at some point each day my mind descends into a dark place and I end up operating almost as if programmed... The same words, mistakes, and attitude. The dreams that I remember clearly cause a different, more analytical sort of mood and I do not typically fall down as hard. I end up damaged, but feeling the broken nature of my existence is sometimes not as bad as the alternative. I need her to help me because no one else has the power to effect change in a positive direction. Oh, I’ve been placated, babied and splattered by bullshit plenty and recognize the difference, believe me. The dreams have been completely different, as in finding that place in which there is no more fear or worry without uttering a single word. I have to put this on pause soon and make pancakes. 0837. The morning business is finished and I am back in the cocoon with my last cup of coffee. The vampires pay no mind. I wish I was one of them. There was a brief vision. Splendid. And this laptop display is looking smaller all the time, likely due to two twenty-seven inch monitors directly behind this machine, one of them sporting high-definition video at this very moment. Eh... A couple of weeks, perhaps, until the desktop machine arrives. I’ve waited this long, right? The worship is already under way but I am nowhere near the source nor the reason. It is far away and I will never find a way to be closer. Never. This is one of the sad truths of living right now. The other is... Well, never mind. Let’s just say that some aspects of life which always served to keep me alive have been torn away. I have been relating those very same parts of life with the dreams, and they in turn led to some pretty fucking desperate mornings. Worship is way out of balance unless one is referring to the topic of religion (and still others might state that such divine worship is also unbalanced, but I disagree), and I know it. I am conscious of the issues inside me and understand the largest, I believe. Regardless, I sit here in this chair feeling that I would worship her to no end, consequences be damned. A while back I stated in no uncertain terms that I can no longer be good for anyone. The worship is a part of the reason. Worship for someone to whom I am not even attached or close is even worse. Just look back at how much I gushed about Jamie. In love with her? Yep, still. That will never change. None of this shit is good in any way. I am in a dream world with the visions and such, and the entire situation has become so different from the way I lived life before the damage that I can’t see back. I am no longer aware of the place I used to inhabit, nor can I return to it. There is barely a semblance of the past left in my brain. More than four years ago when asked of my condition, I replied that I felt like a train wreck. Well, I thought I was. Now? Destroyed. I’ve been dreaming and gushing about a very difficult situation that cannot and will not change, ever, and I no longer see a positive path within reach. This office and the upcoming desktop machine are about all I have left. The little comforts have been waning. I need her to show me the way. I also need her to show me the lines. Do you fucking hear this shit? I am completely sideways and sliding into the worst scrape imaginable. Pause for the cause. I see 1140 on the clocks. The routine is finished and I am in the office for a while. Well, let us call it the control center. The desktop machine will arrive soon and the circle shall be complete. For right now, I am not going to begin any laundry for fear of the house losing power. The wind outside is scheduled to ramp up all day and really slam this area late tonight. There have already been gusts which sounded as if they moved the house. The rain is still light for the next few hours. I have a few things charging just in case, including the batteries in this computer. They have been idle and sitting on the drafting table since moving the laptop to the office, but I decided to charge them for two reasons. One, in case of an outage, and two, the machine will warm my hands at the same time. Heh. Lafayette is one of the best characters I have ever seen on either television or film. He is amazing from beginning to end... Lafayette: ‘Oh, shit!’ Jesus: ‘What?’ Lafayette: ‘Marnie just puked a bitch up.’ Jesus: ‘What do you mean?’ Lafayette: ‘I mean... She opened her mouth and a woman flew the fuck out.’ I fucking love this show sometimes. Unfortunately, the show (and all of the others) takes a far-back seat to the burning, searing desire for that girl to be right here with me, and more. Oh... Much more. Fuck me in a muddy ditch. I want her so badly. The remainder of this day will be devoted to working in the office and other parts of the house. I should not be doing anything outside after yesterday’s foray into the rain gutter system. The modifications may help, or they may fail. Right now I can’t know which. Once the shit hits the fan, though, all will be clear. The entire patio cover and roofline are to be improved this spring, so whatever I can do in the meantime is temporary anyway. I don’t want to throw money at the issue. That would be a waste. So, inside the house I shall remain for the duration. All the while I will be picturing that vision from more than a week ago and the imagery from three out of the four damaging dreams. I need to see EVERYTHING, for fuck’s sake. I need it more than oxygen. Sometimes I want to plant my lips to Luna’s fucking labia and remain as such for an entire calendar day. Just a thought. Paint a fucking picture. I don’t care. This is what I’ve become. There are considerations attached to my desire to worship her, some I can mention here and a few I cannot. One huge such consideration is how she relates to that personality trait from many years ago, something I’ve always found enticing for reasons I cannot mention. Another is the idea of the machine. Yep, that’s right, the fucking machine again. The reason is not something of which I am proud, however. The way I feel toward the girl and many other aspects of life is completely fucking skewed at this point in time. Moreover, my sense of life itself is skewed beyond belief. I have yet to find the ability to come to terms about this shit, too. After all of the heat I’ve taken, shit that has been plowed, and hurdles overcome, I can often rationalize the way I think. The one exception is the way I feel about her and the situation as it is in reality. Unfortunately, I can’t spell it out here. Everything must remain tightly locked away. Despite all of the desire and dreams, most of what I do is still driven by fear. Feel free to blame whomever you wish. I do. And myself? Yep, that too. Oh, God... There is Lois again. She is so fucking annoying sometimes. Anyway, the circumstances of my desire for her have been driven partly by the dreams and partly due to visions right in front of my face. The latter have been excessive, to be honest, and the strength required in maintaining my composure during those seconds is nearly too much for my desperate and weakened state. Connecting my desire for her and the machine took mere milliseconds. That’s it. I assembled the entire image so quickly that even I couldn’t believe the speed. Now? My brain bounces back and forth between the machine and those considerations at light speed. Whatever she may be carrying, I have to put discretion before everything else. There are aspects to an individual’s personality that must be regarded with the utmost importance and prioritized accordingly with regard to my feelings. Believe me, this is not something which can be trivialized. The weather is fairly calm right now except for the occasional gust of wind. The storm is coming, though. There can be no avoiding it. Fear Now I have the wireless MDRs on the charger just in case. I need the media to follow me all fucking day long, honestly. I’ve heard the phrase, ‘child of the seventies’ many times over the years, meaning that those born in the sixties were young during the next decade, which had been literally driven by television. I am a product of the philosophy that while physically alone I can be kept company by television programs and/or movies. The last three years have proven such a fact. The shows I have watched over and over are like friends to me now, most notably those dozen or so I’ve mentioned here in spades. The wireless headphones link to my phone, and the cellular network keeps the media flowing so long as I have prime battery power. Most people consider three aspects of living to be critical; shelter, warmth and food. For me? I need not worry about those, a fact I appreciate every second of every day. The lack of worry means I can point my attention and devices toward my deep need for the television shows to continue playing regardless of power or anything else. They not only help me relax, but the characters can also help to dilute my overwhelming desire for that fucking girl. The batteries and other devices must function no matter the circumstances. I would be one unpleasant motherfucker without them. Ooh-fa... Tara as a vampire. I can’t stop picturing the last vision. Right there... Not three fucking feet from my desperate, fucked-up eyes. I can still see the movement and the exaggeration. I can still see the numbers, and I can still feel the desire as if it took place seconds ago. My need for her is gaining strength even now. All else has gone by the wayside. The clincher? Personality. Ahh... There is my love... NORA. Holy Jesus Harold Christ on a fucking rubber crutch, you wanna talk about beauty? God help me. I spent over a hundred dollars for the equipment required to mount my phone to the top of the big tripod and record three seconds of her walking toward the camera. I needed stability. She had to be clear. God damn do I ever love that woman. Do you remember Jolaimora? Jolene, Jamie, and NORA. And yes, I realize the ‘a’ and ‘i’ should be the other way around. The name is indicative of the machine I created in the fictional story... Jaime. Live with it. I ordered two vinyl/wire organizers to mount on two cabinet doors. The total was less than thirty dollars as opposed to me fabricating something out of plywood that would probably end up looking like shit, being larger and heavier than those I ordered, and most likely not working as well. I want to get all the shit under the sink so the other drawers can be reconfigured. Holy shit is the wind ever gusting. The rain should be in less than two hours, but when it comes, I believe I’ll have to close the garage door because it will be going in circles. I like that door open so I can take little breaks and watch the neighborhood swirl during this crazy weather. Lunch is in the oven. Just a snack. I have a nice dinner planned, so nothing heavy right now. This is the type of day I used to daydream about years ago. Whenever the weather went insane, I always wished to be home, both to keep an eye on the house and to enjoy the power of the planet. These days I need not worry about being home, though. I prefer to be here as often as possible with the media and my projects. Some of the others don’t understand how I can remain here so much and still be content, but believe me, this is the way of my mind. I need the quiet, time and space to think and consider my place in the world. Watching the jetstream making us feel small is a bonus. Most of the time after work we would stop by the bar and catch up with friends. Sometimes I would skip the bar and head straight home to relax, feeling overjoyed to be here. And then the Saturday mornings after I brewed coffee and began to wash clothes, I’d sit here in the office and write. At the outset of the pandemic, part of me wondered whether or not the free time and space would lose its luster after a period of time, but I can say in all certainty that it has only gained value. This coming April will mark three years. I need to remain mindful and appreciative of what I’ve gained, even when feeling down. I wonder if I can operate three monitors off the new computer. It has four video outputs, one HDMI and three DP, I believe. I have two displays right now because I was trying to recreate the old desktop system, but now I may acquire a third monitor and expand the usability of this system. I could easily configure the windows on twin outputs to streamline the applications and then send my programming on a third. The graphics capability of the new computer is more than enough to accomplish such a feat. Wow. One of my garbage cans just blew over. Heh. I guess the forecast wasn’t exaggerating the severity of the wind gusts. I just ordered a third display to match the other two. I need my comfort. Thursday morning, rather early. I have coffee and my typical friends on the second display. I ceased this endeavor yesterday in the interest of keeping an eye on the house as the storm grew through the afternoon. The garage was a good place to maintain watch on everything. The wind grew out of control as I watched the level of rain go from a thin drizzle to an outright downpour several times over the course of just one hour. I remained in the garage until nearly dinner time. No damage, unlike my brain. Today is one of those days in which I will have a few hours alone in order to take care of my usual chores. After the weather yesterday, I’ll be happy to remain indoors for quite a while. The office may call me, too. Spending time here reminds me of the dark eras – from zero-three all the way up to and including seventeen – and the way I flexed myself through the site whenever the mood struck. So, on and off during the day I’ll be sitting right here. I need to keep busy as best I can because any down time allows the girl and the dreams to float back into me, effectively causing distress and derailing anything I am trying to accomplish. Once I begin to daydream about her, my efforts are for shit. My weekdays are becoming precious as I continue to look back to working so much for years, so I’ll have to try and stay upright while taking the time to appreciate being here as much as I need. I am beginning to feel pain if I miss a glimpse or recall some of the others from the past several months. The last was unreal and I need more... Much more. Nothing will come of this, of course, meaning all I’ve been doing lately is deluding myself and worshiping something completely unattainable, much like certain material objects over which I have drooled for decades (I actually acquired one of them but the story is unpleasant). Regardless, I am far too weak to actually help myself in any way. The choice continues to be nothing positive and only burying myself deeper inside a world that cannot and does not exist. A good portion of the reason I’ve made myself suffer constantly is the need to have her in the manner I wish and my inability to face the reality that she represents the largest and most stark impossibility in existence. And I still worship her. And Nora. God, I love her so much. Delusions. Worship. A lack of connection with the real world. All these things add up to the fact that I should probably be hospitalized in the future. Fortunately, I am an expert at snowing people into believing whatever I need, or conversely, forcing them into accepting my deviant nature after a very manipulative conversation. Control not only applies to the house and my atmosphere. It applies to everything. I have to keep this going for as long as possible because what little comfort is left available to me has become more important than ever. The desktop system is one way I’ve secured some of that comfort, too. ‘Once more unto the office’, as it were. Awe There is a timeline to all this shit. It began long ago and each exclamation point along the road through time is related to the last, or at least reinforces the previous point. The culmination is what you have been reading. I can see all those sections of the timeline during which there were events which helped to shape my place in the world in general, and the way I dealt with future events in particular. One led to the next and then the next, all of them eventually congealing into a huge issue in my head and creating more roadblocks than opportunities. One aspect of such a series of events that I do not bring up very often is the fact that I have aged along the way (naturally) and my personality has followed suit in some ways. My old boss used to say that whatever type of traits a person has as they age become more cemented in later years if they do not try to understand or change anything. I can feel that some of my traits from the past have improved due to my efforts to be different from the herd, while others have worsened. The worship I am feeling is due to a combination of the timeline and my personality. You may have noticed that I almost constantly state the idea that I am out of balance. That is not just an observation, either. I can see it every day when I consider the way others live their lives. Not a moment passes in this life when I am not calculating or analyzing behavior, and not just my own. The timeline and certain segments therein have turned me into the type of person who is incapable of being at peace and seeing some parts of the world in a very unfortunate light, including people. The worship is powerful, believe me, and now appears as a natural extension of the timeline as well as a result of decades of difficulties. I can see how I’ve traveled from ‘a’ to ‘b’ to ‘c’ and beyond, if you see the meaning. I remember all of the bad and constantly analyze to learn the reasons why I feel such emotions these days. Not a moment passes when I am not trying to understand something, and the effort is fucking exhausting. The passage from one event to the next combined them as time passed and left me more desperate than I could have ever imagined. A simple trip to the market – like a few days ago when I saw the gray pants – ends up an enormous event in my head and I feel a combination of a lack of power and a deep need to grab the subject and run away. I would not, of course. The observation is only to help frame such a mindset and the levels of weakness, desperation and anger that are carried inside me no matter the circumstances on a given day. I could be just fine one moment and then leave the house, see something wondrous and beautiful, and then I immediately fall down and overanalyze why that kind of sight causes such pain. I felt it the other day, and I feel it when I recall the damaging dreams. The situation feels like I’ve traveled from ‘c’ to ‘d’ in a matter of months. I don’t know what the letters mean, either. They are points of reference, nothing more. The point is everything has been cumulative over time and I am affected every fucking day by the sum. I feel such worship for the subject of the damaging dreams due to the eighties, a few issues in the nineties, all those failed days trying to learn about the birth of the obsession, and then my connections to several different people throughout many years, all of them being gone. A while back I tossed out the possibility that I may be on a road with no turns. Remember that? I am here due to the letters, each being something I cannot forget and a small part of the most hideous personality imaginable... Mine. The worship is going to continue to strengthen. The drives and sightings are going to become more debilitating and frustrating. The words are going to continue, as well. I have nothing else. 0842. Oh, Nora. Come here and hold me. Tell me everything will be alright. God damn do I ever love you. I should be ashamed of such a statement, but I’m not. Some of the faeries drive me insane. I am reminded of the girl in the gray pants and that massive tidal wave of desire that came upon my head in a nanosecond. My perception of the world is so fucking distorted these days that the smallest incident drives me nuts. That was a big one because I saw her and instantly felt the damaging dreams return to my psyche like a flood of desperate need. Holy shit, the rain is dumping right now. Anyway, that girl on the boulevard is a perfect example of how weakened I have become of late. This is all so very bad. The faeries are magical and impossible, just like everything swirling in my head. Dreams are impossible. Happiness is floating away like leaves in the gutter. My time in the office is pushing me to avoid work for a long time. Those years of wishing for some freedom have taken their toll and as I said before, I must remain appreciative of this situation. I have all the time in the world, and regardless of whether it serves me well or causes more problems, it is mine. I can decide to try, or I can continue to live inside this cavern. So far, I have been unable to fully embrace the possibilities, but that does not mean I can’t. It only means that as of yet I have not made an effective plan beyond this office. Nora. She is one of a handful of reasons I still watch this insanity of a series. The gangsters are the same due to Jamie. At some point I will move out of this room and begin my routine. Right now I need to keep the house as quiet as possible. The MDRs help. My coffee is almost gone. The time is now 0921 and the day is all mine. 1135 and I am back in the office. This control center is so comfortable. I am still reminded of the days passed which found me here on any given afternoon with booze and music as I attempted to understand everything. God damn is Deborah’s eye makeup ever gorgeous. Wow. Anyway, I am sitting here once again today because I have some hours alone and I need to continue the exploration of whatever it is I’ve become. Even after doing my routine and making plans for the afternoon and dinner, the image of that last vision is still plaguing me. I want her so bad that sometimes I can’t fucking see straight. The gray pants sting me to this very moment, as well. I can see her gait and gyrating motions from hips to knees and may completely lose my shit over her. I was driving and saw her form for perhaps three fucking seconds and this is what has happened. Do you see? There was more power and fear related to that girl than a dozen fucking nefarious governments. To me, anyway. I am insane. I need to see more. I need to see everything. I need to trace those lines with my fingertips. Go ahead... Laugh at me again. The reasons for me returning to the computer and sitting at this table as often as I am able should be abundantly clear. If not, you are an idiot. My previous desktop system pushed two displays, and did it well. The computer itself came from the cave period and held up pretty well for the next several years. I believe it was a home theatre PC that could perform double duty as a processor and media device at the same time. In the cave I had but one display, but once here in the office, it drove two, one being more than forty inches as measured diagonally. The new setup will be three identical units, all twenty-seven inches. The center display will be for media while the other two will run all the windows involved in what I do with the site, those being the FTP application, IDE, browser and clouds. Believe it or not, I am actually excited about this table being my sanctuary once again. I really need it. Five years ago when the fear of everything drove me to downsize, I cleared out the office and moved toward a mobile platform just in case the shit hit the fan and I wished to run away. Now that I have realized that the lifestyle involved in running away is far too extravagant to be supported by available resources, I decided that remaining here in the house with a powerful control center is best. Powerful? Indeed, but it is a machine. Nothing has the power to dissuade my head from descending into a pair of pants. Not anymore. Two pairs are in mind right now. Just two. Worship is for royalty, not everyday people. The only upside is I am the only one who knows of these deep feelings. 1431. I have the laundry almost finished and nothing else on the schedule for today. Maybe dry cleaning. The table needs to be addressed prior to the third display arriving, meaning I’ll have to make sure everything is in order for such a large setup. Bud’s wife in the show is absolutely reprehensible and disgusting, yet the actor played her part to a tee. Awesome. This table is a full three by six feet, meaning there is plenty of space for such a large amount of screen real estate. I believe the center unit will carry the programming while the two wing displays hold the workings of the site. Worship Oh. My. God. A very bad situation has developed inside my head in the last few minutes due to something I saw. Very bad. That is an understatement. Nora is all over the screen and it barely matters because of the vision. Jesus fucking Christ, I suspected throughout the last several months, but honestly nothing was clear until today. I can’t believe it. And I can’t believe the fucking cyclone going on in my head right now. I have to have a drink in order to calm the burning desire. This is unbelievable and I can’t breathe a word to anyone. Holy shit and God and everything else. I am going to lose my mind very soon. I can take little more of my suspicions being confirmed and then seeing them in reality. Fuck me in a ditch. Almost time to flip out. I am feeling worship, without a doubt. I am also completely fucked. I still can’t believe the reality of this situation as it has developed during the past half year or so. The anniversary of the first damaging dream is but a few months away. Today pretty much cemented what has been swirling inside me and to have my dreams confirmed in reality is not something with which I can easily deal. One more time... Very bad. I don’t know what the fuck to do, but there is one idea that is now gospel, and that is to avoid going out as much as possible and put the kibosh to working for the foreseeable future. My need to see is stronger than ever. This will prove to be the worst unrequited situation in my history. As I sit in this chair, I swear that I’ve not felt this level of desire in my life. Not even close. And believe me, I’ve flipped the fuck out over desire in the past. I have also nearly destroyed everything. I am worshiping something without one smidgen of reality being involved. I can’t fucking believe this situation and have no clue as to how to alleviate the symptoms. It just keeps worsening, often out of control, like today. The vision was so unreal that I can’t even manufacture a frame of reference. Good thing my desktop control center is shaping up or I’d be entirely without direction. The power inherent is beyond description. Fear? Yes, some of that, too. This office is going to be my tomb. Friday morning has arrived and my brain is still saturated with the image from yesterday. I have to figure out a way to shove it back far enough for me to relax a bit. Oh, God. Nora again. Damn. I don’t need her winding through my heart this early in the morning. And speaking of morning, I am overjoyed to have made it through the night. Something happened near two or three that resulted in my lower back becoming very painful. I nearly had to get up and grab the heating pad just to get comfortable enough to sleep again. It was bad. Now that I’ve made it through the motions of the early stuff, I have found that this chair is very comfortable and is not causing further problems. That means I can be comfortable in my cocoon today. I need this most of the time. My little world with my little dreams and devices. Very important, this stuff. And the feelings have expanded further. I keep seeing yesterday’s unbelievable development over and over and I can’t seem to stop my imagination from running away with visions of desperate need and the accompanying pain. This is the worst shit I could have ever conceived. I can’t do anything about it and I can’t say anything about it. I have to sit on this information like warming an egg that can never hatch. If anything in my world has the power to drive me fully insane – not that silly moodiness or something trivial; I’m talking about the real thing – being in this position and knowing what I know has become nearly too much to bear, and this is it. I am referring to the combined power of the universe all rolled up into one big explosive fucking wrecking ball to my head. The time is 0728 and I’ll be doing the morning business very soon. After? Right back here to rest myself, maybe with the heat. The incident from yesterday is going to ruin my morning if I’m not vigilant in my actions. I keep seeing it over and over, two different angles and all of the calculations that come with them, and then just enough light showing for me to realize that there was more than I had dreamed. I need to know the rest... I need everything. All of it. This is going to be a tough day after a rough night. The imagery and dreamy fantasies are going to have to be jammed to the rear if I am to function. Never in my life have I wanted something so bad. Not the B-1 nor the Slipper; not even the fucking Passion, believe it or not. The morning business is complete and I am back in the cocoon for the duration. One more cup of coffee, too. I’ve been thinking about yesterday while preparing for the morning. I still can’t believe what I saw. Suspicions were there, likely all the way back to the first dream, and then later there had been little clues that came along. I’m talking about split-second incidents, honestly. I knew there was more to the situation, yet until yesterday I could not be certain. Now I am completely out of my fucking mind and need everything much more than a mere day ago. I am insane. Never have I seen anything so enticing and wondrous, and believe me... I’ve seen some fucking beauty in this world. Again, I am insane. I am also going to explode one of these days because of the sheer amount of pent up information inside my head with zero chance of an outlet. Oh, Nora. Please hold me. Kiss me, too. Today is all mine thanks to taking care of the laundry and dry cleaning yesterday. This is very good and may help offset my back issue and the fact that I am losing my mind over the recent developments and need to remain isolated and with the space to think. I really need to work out a plan to help me survive this shit. As usual, no one is listening. I forced things to be this way out of fear, but that does not mean that I like it. I simply needed to remain quiet toward others. Still do, honestly, because the subject matter is completely nuts. Ugh... Back to this day. I am glad to have the house to myself for a while. The quiet and peaceful nature of the neighborhood during a business day is very important to me, and very comfortable. I will probably take care of my routine and not much else. My back needs a rest (as does my tired-out brain). One more time... Oh, Nora. I am really going to have to push this morning. The routine is no big deal, too. It’s never that time-consuming, to be honest. Even when the kitchen is completely thrashed, I don’t mind the work because I always have my friends in the background. Installing the television in the kitchen is one of the best things I’ve done with this house. Soon I’ll have the office, as well. For now, however, I have to figure a way to get her out of my head or the work will feel very tedious. I can’t have that, especially considering the condition of my back today. She holds so much power that I can’t believe it. Jesus God does Nora ever have an ass. Holy shit. Anyway, this difficulty came about last year and then expanded a bit, but even while trying to work with what I had been feeling, I never expected the situation to worsen so much, and so quickly. Yesterday was too much. I am desperate and worship her so much that everything else – including my excitement over rebuilding the control center – is losing importance at an alarming rate. I need to scream at the top of my lungs but I can’t. This just keeps worsening. Maybe the new computer will help to distract me from so much desire. Worship is bad unless it refers to feelings toward either royalty or gods (or the like). I am feeling it regardless of the damage inside my head and heart. She is amazing and I can’t say much about her, and to feel everything to such a great degree and keep it all bottled up is going to cause major fucking issues. I don’t know exactly how much or when, but I am intelligent enough to know that being heeled over this far and full of such desire, nothing good can come of it. The prime point with that last statement is the fact that what I want and need is again impossible. Just like ‘her’, Jamie, or all those other wonderful visions of love and understanding, this one is completely impossible. It is the worst, in fact, and if I can’t reconcile myself with the idea that nothing can develop, I am going to shut the fuck down. Period. End of line." 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Foiled Worship Mature content No. 349 Published January 6th, 2023 10:03am pst read ( words) Past entries "Being damned is not the reason I was so pissed off in the last one. Anger over the way some people have spoken to me for the last few months came to a head and I had to say something. Feeling as if my entire life is damned does not make me angry at all. I am unhappy, but becoming angry over the situation is not going to accomplish anything. The damaging dreams frustrate me quite a bit sometimes and then I flare, but the situation is nothing serious. I am not going to lash out at an individual, just the world. Most of the time, actually, my mood goes south because of other people, not feeling desire for that fucking girl. The feeling will peak sometimes and then I go on a tirade because of being in this position after five years of being completely fucked over for no good reason. The root of that shit is people, nothing else. I’ve been in a position to feel relief on a few occasions, too. Damned few. They all went away just like everything else. Back to the gray of reality, we float. And there is Portia. Wow. Beautiful hair on that woman. And? Much more. Ugh. Keeping all this shit to myself is fantastic because I don’t need to worry about anyone taking issue with my words or some errant gushing about a woman on the screen. Or? Anything else. I really don’t like the idea of placing my thoughts here for ME and then hearing some shit because a person disagrees or doesn’t like the manner in which I’ve built this site. Go build your own. It’s pretty easy. Anyway, This is the fourth entry since I ceased publishing. It feels nice. Any positives during this difficult time are going to be embraced. As much as I’d like to embrace something else, this is all I have anymore. Full control over this endeavor is becoming more important with each passing day. Honestly, I’ve pulled the content in the past with the intention of never making it available to other people in the future. Unfortunately, there are times when I must speak and ensure my words are public. Whatever the circumstances, sometimes the shit simply has to be available to others. My words are often nothing more than raw feelings, the most striking of which is anger, so when I become full of disdain for a person or people, the shit on the site follows suit (much like toward the end of the last entry. I don’t care if anyone reads the rest of the writing. I only want them to read the anger because they are the cause. 1106. I finished half the routine because the kitchen is fine for the time being. I’ll take care of it after lunch. I also went to two markets for a few items. The return trip had me at sixes and sevens for the umpteenth time because of a girl walking up the boulevard. My brain instantly rolled back the clock to the damaging dreams and subsequent visions. I simply could not believe the sight of her pants and legs. There appeared a feature that I hesitate to mention, though. I’d rather leave it out of this essay because should the information eventually make it to the production environment, I will probably receive a blast of shit. Her gait drove me insane as I made my way up the road to the small market. Damn it. At least I have a glass of whiskey to calm the mood for a while. The second market held its own fascination in the form of one of the owners (I think) at the register. She is frightening, always very efficient and polite, yet there is almost zero personality coming through while she works. It’s as though she is not happy to be at the checkout lane. I usually see younger people there, so perhaps the older woman was simply filling in for a while. Whichever the case, her face and everything below is wondrous. I can see the beauty behind her glasses and blank expression, and I can sense that outside of work and in a different atmosphere, the woman would likely be amazing to see. I will never know because in addition to being so dark and mysterious, there is an issue. My brain calculated that she may be the type to look gorgeous until the mood turns south. That is one of the scariest traits in existence due to the reasons why a person may exhibit such behavior. Well, she’s lovely, anyway. All I can do is look, much like the stunning girl on the boulevard. Anything else is most decidedly impossible. I really don’t like the fact that I feel worship for some of these visions – most notably the subject of the damaging dreams – and cannot do anything about it. There is no outlet whatsoever, although I’m sure some would see this exposition as cathartic. Well, it is not. I continue to slowly decline and withdraw, all the while flirting with the idea that my life ended some years ago and all I’ve been doing is floating along in my own netherworld. Worship is not good. It is off-balance, weak, and any number of other negative labels apply to feeling this way, most of which I’ve already stated here in spades. What? Did you say ‘desperation’? Yes, that too. This is a very bad situation. But... Does it matter? Will my words change anything? You decide. 1309. The laundry is almost finished and lunch is out of the way. I am still thinking about that fucking girl on the boulevard earlier. What a sight. Don’t ask what was going through my head as I drove. Everything from lines and measurements to... Use your imagination. Few occasions have found me close to those lines, and each was a failure of sorts. I don’t know why the sight of lines is always accompanied by fear. Jesus’ father on this show is a fucking asshole. 1540. Well, I went over to the hardware store to pick up bird seed because the feeder was empty. I like to keep the little guys happy. I couldn’t think of anything else, though. Upon returning, I decided to remedy the fucked up rain gutter situation in the back and deal with that shitty patio cover (which is to be completely rebuilt this spring). Whoever added the cover failed to consider water flow and left a half-inch hole for drainage from one gutter to another. One leaf could block the flow, and did just that. I basically tore the end off the fucking thing and whatever remaining water from the last storm ran down the spout. Hopefully, this will ease the overflow at the opposite end. There is a storm scheduled to arrive late tonight. I can’t WAIT to see that Goddamned patio cover torn to pieces and made to disappear. The replacement will be an integral part of the redesigned roof line. Very nice. There was nothing of note in the store, just in my head... The damaging dreams, that personality trait I found in the eighties, and the visions since the first dream came along have all combined into one massive cyclone of desire and wishful thinking. I am beginning to worship the creation. My out-of-balance life is tipping further. No visions. That is good and bad. I am absolutely yearning for a repeat of the last occurrence and losing my mind at the same time. What I saw was alluring beyond belief. I’ve not had many chances, and most of the time the glimpse is so fleeting that for a split second I am somewhere else, as if no longer present for any conversation or the like. My brain melts and begins to worship what I’ve seen. I can’t help it, either. Nothing in the world has pulled at me with such force. I need her to be the one who makes everything go away. The lines are in there, too. I already know. But I cannot say. Vampires are still gracing the second display. I keep thinking about the desktop machine and the days ahead allowing me to set it up correctly for my needs. Yes, I said need, not want. All of the other conditions and situations have boiled down to one simple fact, and that is I need them all rolled up into one savior. I need her. Everything is impossible. Worship is unhealthy. 0644 on Wednesday, January the fourth. A storm should be arriving later. I hope my work yesterday helps the situation somewhat. I have no plans to go anywhere today because I’ve been informed the harshest part of the weather will be during business hours. At least that means I get to experience it rather than waking up to the effects like most of the time. I love it when the planet makes us feel small. As for anything beyond the normal routine, I believe continuing in the office and trying to reorganize the storage will be best. I also have an idea for a cabinet modification in the kitchen which will ease the storage in that room, too. I need to do some woodwork to such an end, so perhaps the idea will not go beyond the planning stage today. I don’t like to be out there when the wind is strong. The doors may need to remain closed. The office will be my sanctuary once again. This space is becoming more comfortable than I had originally thought. Concern I am weaker than ever, and now with a new cherry on top. This is fucking peachy. The previous paragraph (filler while I try to think) seems positive and productive. But now? I have to go back into the negative space and daydream about her. Sometimes this is the best part of the day but it can lead to the worst. More often than not, actually. There is a distinct possibility that when I dream without remembering the details, my head continues in the same mood on a subconscious level, like as I sit here with my coffee and try to sort things out. If true, it would explain why at some point each day my mind descends into a dark place and I end up operating almost as if programmed... The same words, mistakes, and attitude. The dreams that I remember clearly cause a different, more analytical sort of mood and I do not typically fall down as hard. I end up damaged, but feeling the broken nature of my existence is sometimes not as bad as the alternative. I need her to help me because no one else has the power to effect change in a positive direction. Oh, I’ve been placated, babied and splattered by bullshit plenty and recognize the difference, believe me. The dreams have been completely different, as in finding that place in which there is no more fear or worry without uttering a single word. I have to put this on pause soon and make pancakes. 0837. The morning business is finished and I am back in the cocoon with my last cup of coffee. The vampires pay no mind. I wish I was one of them. There was a brief vision. Splendid. And this laptop display is looking smaller all the time, likely due to two twenty-seven inch monitors directly behind this machine, one of them sporting high-definition video at this very moment. Eh... A couple of weeks, perhaps, until the desktop machine arrives. I’ve waited this long, right? The worship is already under way but I am nowhere near the source nor the reason. It is far away and I will never find a way to be closer. Never. This is one of the sad truths of living right now. The other is... Well, never mind. Let’s just say that some aspects of life which always served to keep me alive have been torn away. I have been relating those very same parts of life with the dreams, and they in turn led to some pretty fucking desperate mornings. Worship is way out of balance unless one is referring to the topic of religion (and still others might state that such divine worship is also unbalanced, but I disagree), and I know it. I am conscious of the issues inside me and understand the largest, I believe. Regardless, I sit here in this chair feeling that I would worship her to no end, consequences be damned. A while back I stated in no uncertain terms that I can no longer be good for anyone. The worship is a part of the reason. Worship for someone to whom I am not even attached or close is even worse. Just look back at how much I gushed about Jamie. In love with her? Yep, still. That will never change. None of this shit is good in any way. I am in a dream world with the visions and such, and the entire situation has become so different from the way I lived life before the damage that I can’t see back. I am no longer aware of the place I used to inhabit, nor can I return to it. There is barely a semblance of the past left in my brain. More than four years ago when asked of my condition, I replied that I felt like a train wreck. Well, I thought I was. Now? Destroyed. I’ve been dreaming and gushing about a very difficult situation that cannot and will not change, ever, and I no longer see a positive path within reach. This office and the upcoming desktop machine are about all I have left. The little comforts have been waning. I need her to show me the way. I also need her to show me the lines. Do you fucking hear this shit? I am completely sideways and sliding into the worst scrape imaginable. Pause for the cause. I see 1140 on the clocks. The routine is finished and I am in the office for a while. Well, let us call it the control center. The desktop machine will arrive soon and the circle shall be complete. For right now, I am not going to begin any laundry for fear of the house losing power. The wind outside is scheduled to ramp up all day and really slam this area late tonight. There have already been gusts which sounded as if they moved the house. The rain is still light for the next few hours. I have a few things charging just in case, including the batteries in this computer. They have been idle and sitting on the drafting table since moving the laptop to the office, but I decided to charge them for two reasons. One, in case of an outage, and two, the machine will warm my hands at the same time. Heh. Lafayette is one of the best characters I have ever seen on either television or film. He is amazing from beginning to end... Lafayette: ‘Oh, shit!’ Jesus: ‘What?’ Lafayette: ‘Marnie just puked a bitch up.’ Jesus: ‘What do you mean?’ Lafayette: ‘I mean... She opened her mouth and a woman flew the fuck out.’ I fucking love this show sometimes. Unfortunately, the show (and all of the others) takes a far-back seat to the burning, searing desire for that girl to be right here with me, and more. Oh... Much more. Fuck me in a muddy ditch. I want her so badly. The remainder of this day will be devoted to working in the office and other parts of the house. I should not be doing anything outside after yesterday’s foray into the rain gutter system. The modifications may help, or they may fail. Right now I can’t know which. Once the shit hits the fan, though, all will be clear. The entire patio cover and roofline are to be improved this spring, so whatever I can do in the meantime is temporary anyway. I don’t want to throw money at the issue. That would be a waste. So, inside the house I shall remain for the duration. All the while I will be picturing that vision from more than a week ago and the imagery from three out of the four damaging dreams. I need to see EVERYTHING, for fuck’s sake. I need it more than oxygen. Sometimes I want to plant my lips to Luna’s fucking labia and remain as such for an entire calendar day. Just a thought. Paint a fucking picture. I don’t care. This is what I’ve become. There are considerations attached to my desire to worship her, some I can mention here and a few I cannot. One huge such consideration is how she relates to that personality trait from many years ago, something I’ve always found enticing for reasons I cannot mention. Another is the idea of the machine. Yep, that’s right, the fucking machine again. The reason is not something of which I am proud, however. The way I feel toward the girl and many other aspects of life is completely fucking skewed at this point in time. Moreover, my sense of life itself is skewed beyond belief. I have yet to find the ability to come to terms about this shit, too. After all of the heat I’ve taken, shit that has been plowed, and hurdles overcome, I can often rationalize the way I think. The one exception is the way I feel about her and the situation as it is in reality. Unfortunately, I can’t spell it out here. Everything must remain tightly locked away. Despite all of the desire and dreams, most of what I do is still driven by fear. Feel free to blame whomever you wish. I do. And myself? Yep, that too. Oh, God... There is Lois again. She is so fucking annoying sometimes. Anyway, the circumstances of my desire for her have been driven partly by the dreams and partly due to visions right in front of my face. The latter have been excessive, to be honest, and the strength required in maintaining my composure during those seconds is nearly too much for my desperate and weakened state. Connecting my desire for her and the machine took mere milliseconds. That’s it. I assembled the entire image so quickly that even I couldn’t believe the speed. Now? My brain bounces back and forth between the machine and those considerations at light speed. Whatever she may be carrying, I have to put discretion before everything else. There are aspects to an individual’s personality that must be regarded with the utmost importance and prioritized accordingly with regard to my feelings. Believe me, this is not something which can be trivialized. The weather is fairly calm right now except for the occasional gust of wind. The storm is coming, though. There can be no avoiding it. Fear Now I have the wireless MDRs on the charger just in case. I need the media to follow me all fucking day long, honestly. I’ve heard the phrase, ‘child of the seventies’ many times over the years, meaning that those born in the sixties were young during the next decade, which had been literally driven by television. I am a product of the philosophy that while physically alone I can be kept company by television programs and/or movies. The last three years have proven such a fact. The shows I have watched over and over are like friends to me now, most notably those dozen or so I’ve mentioned here in spades. The wireless headphones link to my phone, and the cellular network keeps the media flowing so long as I have prime battery power. Most people consider three aspects of living to be critical; shelter, warmth and food. For me? I need not worry about those, a fact I appreciate every second of every day. The lack of worry means I can point my attention and devices toward my deep need for the television shows to continue playing regardless of power or anything else. They not only help me relax, but the characters can also help to dilute my overwhelming desire for that fucking girl. The batteries and other devices must function no matter the circumstances. I would be one unpleasant motherfucker without them. Ooh-fa... Tara as a vampire. I can’t stop picturing the last vision. Right there... Not three fucking feet from my desperate, fucked-up eyes. I can still see the movement and the exaggeration. I can still see the numbers, and I can still feel the desire as if it took place seconds ago. My need for her is gaining strength even now. All else has gone by the wayside. The clincher? Personality. Ahh... There is my love... NORA. Holy Jesus Harold Christ on a fucking rubber crutch, you wanna talk about beauty? God help me. I spent over a hundred dollars for the equipment required to mount my phone to the top of the big tripod and record three seconds of her walking toward the camera. I needed stability. She had to be clear. God damn do I ever love that woman. Do you remember Jolaimora? Jolene, Jamie, and NORA. And yes, I realize the ‘a’ and ‘i’ should be the other way around. The name is indicative of the machine I created in the fictional story... Jaime. Live with it. I ordered two vinyl/wire organizers to mount on two cabinet doors. The total was less than thirty dollars as opposed to me fabricating something out of plywood that would probably end up looking like shit, being larger and heavier than those I ordered, and most likely not working as well. I want to get all the shit under the sink so the other drawers can be reconfigured. Holy shit is the wind ever gusting. The rain should be in less than two hours, but when it comes, I believe I’ll have to close the garage door because it will be going in circles. I like that door open so I can take little breaks and watch the neighborhood swirl during this crazy weather. Lunch is in the oven. Just a snack. I have a nice dinner planned, so nothing heavy right now. This is the type of day I used to daydream about years ago. Whenever the weather went insane, I always wished to be home, both to keep an eye on the house and to enjoy the power of the planet. These days I need not worry about being home, though. I prefer to be here as often as possible with the media and my projects. Some of the others don’t understand how I can remain here so much and still be content, but believe me, this is the way of my mind. I need the quiet, time and space to think and consider my place in the world. Watching the jetstream making us feel small is a bonus. Most of the time after work we would stop by the bar and catch up with friends. Sometimes I would skip the bar and head straight home to relax, feeling overjoyed to be here. And then the Saturday mornings after I brewed coffee and began to wash clothes, I’d sit here in the office and write. At the outset of the pandemic, part of me wondered whether or not the free time and space would lose its luster after a period of time, but I can say in all certainty that it has only gained value. This coming April will mark three years. I need to remain mindful and appreciative of what I’ve gained, even when feeling down. I wonder if I can operate three monitors off the new computer. It has four video outputs, one HDMI and three DP, I believe. I have two displays right now because I was trying to recreate the old desktop system, but now I may acquire a third monitor and expand the usability of this system. I could easily configure the windows on twin outputs to streamline the applications and then send my programming on a third. The graphics capability of the new computer is more than enough to accomplish such a feat. Wow. One of my garbage cans just blew over. Heh. I guess the forecast wasn’t exaggerating the severity of the wind gusts. I just ordered a third display to match the other two. I need my comfort. Thursday morning, rather early. I have coffee and my typical friends on the second display. I ceased this endeavor yesterday in the interest of keeping an eye on the house as the storm grew through the afternoon. The garage was a good place to maintain watch on everything. The wind grew out of control as I watched the level of rain go from a thin drizzle to an outright downpour several times over the course of just one hour. I remained in the garage until nearly dinner time. No damage, unlike my brain. Today is one of those days in which I will have a few hours alone in order to take care of my usual chores. After the weather yesterday, I’ll be happy to remain indoors for quite a while. The office may call me, too. Spending time here reminds me of the dark eras – from zero-three all the way up to and including seventeen – and the way I flexed myself through the site whenever the mood struck. So, on and off during the day I’ll be sitting right here. I need to keep busy as best I can because any down time allows the girl and the dreams to float back into me, effectively causing distress and derailing anything I am trying to accomplish. Once I begin to daydream about her, my efforts are for shit. My weekdays are becoming precious as I continue to look back to working so much for years, so I’ll have to try and stay upright while taking the time to appreciate being here as much as I need. I am beginning to feel pain if I miss a glimpse or recall some of the others from the past several months. The last was unreal and I need more... Much more. Nothing will come of this, of course, meaning all I’ve been doing lately is deluding myself and worshiping something completely unattainable, much like certain material objects over which I have drooled for decades (I actually acquired one of them but the story is unpleasant). Regardless, I am far too weak to actually help myself in any way. The choice continues to be nothing positive and only burying myself deeper inside a world that cannot and does not exist. A good portion of the reason I’ve made myself suffer constantly is the need to have her in the manner I wish and my inability to face the reality that she represents the largest and most stark impossibility in existence. And I still worship her. And Nora. God, I love her so much. Delusions. Worship. A lack of connection with the real world. All these things add up to the fact that I should probably be hospitalized in the future. Fortunately, I am an expert at snowing people into believing whatever I need, or conversely, forcing them into accepting my deviant nature after a very manipulative conversation. Control not only applies to the house and my atmosphere. It applies to everything. I have to keep this going for as long as possible because what little comfort is left available to me has become more important than ever. The desktop system is one way I’ve secured some of that comfort, too. ‘Once more unto the office’, as it were. Awe There is a timeline to all this shit. It began long ago and each exclamation point along the road through time is related to the last, or at least reinforces the previous point. The culmination is what you have been reading. I can see all those sections of the timeline during which there were events which helped to shape my place in the world in general, and the way I dealt with future events in particular. One led to the next and then the next, all of them eventually congealing into a huge issue in my head and creating more roadblocks than opportunities. One aspect of such a series of events that I do not bring up very often is the fact that I have aged along the way (naturally) and my personality has followed suit in some ways. My old boss used to say that whatever type of traits a person has as they age become more cemented in later years if they do not try to understand or change anything. I can feel that some of my traits from the past have improved due to my efforts to be different from the herd, while others have worsened. The worship I am feeling is due to a combination of the timeline and my personality. You may have noticed that I almost constantly state the idea that I am out of balance. That is not just an observation, either. I can see it every day when I consider the way others live their lives. Not a moment passes in this life when I am not calculating or analyzing behavior, and not just my own. The timeline and certain segments therein have turned me into the type of person who is incapable of being at peace and seeing some parts of the world in a very unfortunate light, including people. The worship is powerful, believe me, and now appears as a natural extension of the timeline as well as a result of decades of difficulties. I can see how I’ve traveled from ‘a’ to ‘b’ to ‘c’ and beyond, if you see the meaning. I remember all of the bad and constantly analyze to learn the reasons why I feel such emotions these days. Not a moment passes when I am not trying to understand something, and the effort is fucking exhausting. The passage from one event to the next combined them as time passed and left me more desperate than I could have ever imagined. A simple trip to the market – like a few days ago when I saw the gray pants – ends up an enormous event in my head and I feel a combination of a lack of power and a deep need to grab the subject and run away. I would not, of course. The observation is only to help frame such a mindset and the levels of weakness, desperation and anger that are carried inside me no matter the circumstances on a given day. I could be just fine one moment and then leave the house, see something wondrous and beautiful, and then I immediately fall down and overanalyze why that kind of sight causes such pain. I felt it the other day, and I feel it when I recall the damaging dreams. The situation feels like I’ve traveled from ‘c’ to ‘d’ in a matter of months. I don’t know what the letters mean, either. They are points of reference, nothing more. The point is everything has been cumulative over time and I am affected every fucking day by the sum. I feel such worship for the subject of the damaging dreams due to the eighties, a few issues in the nineties, all those failed days trying to learn about the birth of the obsession, and then my connections to several different people throughout many years, all of them being gone. A while back I tossed out the possibility that I may be on a road with no turns. Remember that? I am here due to the letters, each being something I cannot forget and a small part of the most hideous personality imaginable... Mine. The worship is going to continue to strengthen. The drives and sightings are going to become more debilitating and frustrating. The words are going to continue, as well. I have nothing else. 0842. Oh, Nora. Come here and hold me. Tell me everything will be alright. God damn do I ever love you. I should be ashamed of such a statement, but I’m not. Some of the faeries drive me insane. I am reminded of the girl in the gray pants and that massive tidal wave of desire that came upon my head in a nanosecond. My perception of the world is so fucking distorted these days that the smallest incident drives me nuts. That was a big one because I saw her and instantly felt the damaging dreams return to my psyche like a flood of desperate need. Holy shit, the rain is dumping right now. Anyway, that girl on the boulevard is a perfect example of how weakened I have become of late. This is all so very bad. The faeries are magical and impossible, just like everything swirling in my head. Dreams are impossible. Happiness is floating away like leaves in the gutter. My time in the office is pushing me to avoid work for a long time. Those years of wishing for some freedom have taken their toll and as I said before, I must remain appreciative of this situation. I have all the time in the world, and regardless of whether it serves me well or causes more problems, it is mine. I can decide to try, or I can continue to live inside this cavern. So far, I have been unable to fully embrace the possibilities, but that does not mean I can’t. It only means that as of yet I have not made an effective plan beyond this office. Nora. She is one of a handful of reasons I still watch this insanity of a series. The gangsters are the same due to Jamie. At some point I will move out of this room and begin my routine. Right now I need to keep the house as quiet as possible. The MDRs help. My coffee is almost gone. The time is now 0921 and the day is all mine. 1135 and I am back in the office. This control center is so comfortable. I am still reminded of the days passed which found me here on any given afternoon with booze and music as I attempted to understand everything. God damn is Deborah’s eye makeup ever gorgeous. Wow. Anyway, I am sitting here once again today because I have some hours alone and I need to continue the exploration of whatever it is I’ve become. Even after doing my routine and making plans for the afternoon and dinner, the image of that last vision is still plaguing me. I want her so bad that sometimes I can’t fucking see straight. The gray pants sting me to this very moment, as well. I can see her gait and gyrating motions from hips to knees and may completely lose my shit over her. I was driving and saw her form for perhaps three fucking seconds and this is what has happened. Do you see? There was more power and fear related to that girl than a dozen fucking nefarious governments. To me, anyway. I am insane. I need to see more. I need to see everything. I need to trace those lines with my fingertips. Go ahead... Laugh at me again. The reasons for me returning to the computer and sitting at this table as often as I am able should be abundantly clear. If not, you are an idiot. My previous desktop system pushed two displays, and did it well. The computer itself came from the cave period and held up pretty well for the next several years. I believe it was a home theatre PC that could perform double duty as a processor and media device at the same time. In the cave I had but one display, but once here in the office, it drove two, one being more than forty inches as measured diagonally. The new setup will be three identical units, all twenty-seven inches. The center display will be for media while the other two will run all the windows involved in what I do with the site, those being the FTP application, IDE, browser and clouds. Believe it or not, I am actually excited about this table being my sanctuary once again. I really need it. Five years ago when the fear of everything drove me to downsize, I cleared out the office and moved toward a mobile platform just in case the shit hit the fan and I wished to run away. Now that I have realized that the lifestyle involved in running away is far too extravagant to be supported by available resources, I decided that remaining here in the house with a powerful control center is best. Powerful? Indeed, but it is a machine. Nothing has the power to dissuade my head from descending into a pair of pants. Not anymore. Two pairs are in mind right now. Just two. Worship is for royalty, not everyday people. The only upside is I am the only one who knows of these deep feelings. 1431. I have the laundry almost finished and nothing else on the schedule for today. Maybe dry cleaning. The table needs to be addressed prior to the third display arriving, meaning I’ll have to make sure everything is in order for such a large setup. Bud’s wife in the show is absolutely reprehensible and disgusting, yet the actor played her part to a tee. Awesome. This table is a full three by six feet, meaning there is plenty of space for such a large amount of screen real estate. I believe the center unit will carry the programming while the two wing displays hold the workings of the site. Worship Oh. My. God. A very bad situation has developed inside my head in the last few minutes due to something I saw. Very bad. That is an understatement. Nora is all over the screen and it barely matters because of the vision. Jesus fucking Christ, I suspected throughout the last several months, but honestly nothing was clear until today. I can’t believe it. And I can’t believe the fucking cyclone going on in my head right now. I have to have a drink in order to calm the burning desire. This is unbelievable and I can’t breathe a word to anyone. Holy shit and God and everything else. I am going to lose my mind very soon. I can take little more of my suspicions being confirmed and then seeing them in reality. Fuck me in a ditch. Almost time to flip out. I am feeling worship, without a doubt. I am also completely fucked. I still can’t believe the reality of this situation as it has developed during the past half year or so. The anniversary of the first damaging dream is but a few months away. Today pretty much cemented what has been swirling inside me and to have my dreams confirmed in reality is not something with which I can easily deal. One more time... Very bad. I don’t know what the fuck to do, but there is one idea that is now gospel, and that is to avoid going out as much as possible and put the kibosh to working for the foreseeable future. My need to see is stronger than ever. This will prove to be the worst unrequited situation in my history. As I sit in this chair, I swear that I’ve not felt this level of desire in my life. Not even close. And believe me, I’ve flipped the fuck out over desire in the past. I have also nearly destroyed everything. I am worshiping something without one smidgen of reality being involved. I can’t fucking believe this situation and have no clue as to how to alleviate the symptoms. It just keeps worsening, often out of control, like today. The vision was so unreal that I can’t even manufacture a frame of reference. Good thing my desktop control center is shaping up or I’d be entirely without direction. The power inherent is beyond description. Fear? Yes, some of that, too. This office is going to be my tomb. Friday morning has arrived and my brain is still saturated with the image from yesterday. I have to figure out a way to shove it back far enough for me to relax a bit. Oh, God. Nora again. Damn. I don’t need her winding through my heart this early in the morning. And speaking of morning, I am overjoyed to have made it through the night. Something happened near two or three that resulted in my lower back becoming very painful. I nearly had to get up and grab the heating pad just to get comfortable enough to sleep again. It was bad. Now that I’ve made it through the motions of the early stuff, I have found that this chair is very comfortable and is not causing further problems. That means I can be comfortable in my cocoon today. I need this most of the time. My little world with my little dreams and devices. Very important, this stuff. And the feelings have expanded further. I keep seeing yesterday’s unbelievable development over and over and I can’t seem to stop my imagination from running away with visions of desperate need and the accompanying pain. This is the worst shit I could have ever conceived. I can’t do anything about it and I can’t say anything about it. I have to sit on this information like warming an egg that can never hatch. If anything in my world has the power to drive me fully insane – not that silly moodiness or something trivial; I’m talking about the real thing – being in this position and knowing what I know has become nearly too much to bear, and this is it. I am referring to the combined power of the universe all rolled up into one big explosive fucking wrecking ball to my head. The time is 0728 and I’ll be doing the morning business very soon. After? Right back here to rest myself, maybe with the heat. The incident from yesterday is going to ruin my morning if I’m not vigilant in my actions. I keep seeing it over and over, two different angles and all of the calculations that come with them, and then just enough light showing for me to realize that there was more than I had dreamed. I need to know the rest... I need everything. All of it. This is going to be a tough day after a rough night. The imagery and dreamy fantasies are going to have to be jammed to the rear if I am to function. Never in my life have I wanted something so bad. Not the B-1 nor the Slipper; not even the fucking Passion, believe it or not. The morning business is complete and I am back in the cocoon for the duration. One more cup of coffee, too. I’ve been thinking about yesterday while preparing for the morning. I still can’t believe what I saw. Suspicions were there, likely all the way back to the first dream, and then later there had been little clues that came along. I’m talking about split-second incidents, honestly. I knew there was more to the situation, yet until yesterday I could not be certain. Now I am completely out of my fucking mind and need everything much more than a mere day ago. I am insane. Never have I seen anything so enticing and wondrous, and believe me... I’ve seen some fucking beauty in this world. Again, I am insane. I am also going to explode one of these days because of the sheer amount of pent up information inside my head with zero chance of an outlet. Oh, Nora. Please hold me. Kiss me, too. Today is all mine thanks to taking care of the laundry and dry cleaning yesterday. This is very good and may help offset my back issue and the fact that I am losing my mind over the recent developments and need to remain isolated and with the space to think. I really need to work out a plan to help me survive this shit. As usual, no one is listening. I forced things to be this way out of fear, but that does not mean that I like it. I simply needed to remain quiet toward others. Still do, honestly, because the subject matter is completely nuts. Ugh... Back to this day. I am glad to have the house to myself for a while. The quiet and peaceful nature of the neighborhood during a business day is very important to me, and very comfortable. I will probably take care of my routine and not much else. My back needs a rest (as does my tired-out brain). One more time... Oh, Nora. I am really going to have to push this morning. The routine is no big deal, too. It’s never that time-consuming, to be honest. Even when the kitchen is completely thrashed, I don’t mind the work because I always have my friends in the background. Installing the television in the kitchen is one of the best things I’ve done with this house. Soon I’ll have the office, as well. For now, however, I have to figure a way to get her out of my head or the work will feel very tedious. I can’t have that, especially considering the condition of my back today. She holds so much power that I can’t believe it. Jesus God does Nora ever have an ass. Holy shit. Anyway, this difficulty came about last year and then expanded a bit, but even while trying to work with what I had been feeling, I never expected the situation to worsen so much, and so quickly. Yesterday was too much. I am desperate and worship her so much that everything else – including my excitement over rebuilding the control center – is losing importance at an alarming rate. I need to scream at the top of my lungs but I can’t. This just keeps worsening. Maybe the new computer will help to distract me from so much desire. Worship is bad unless it refers to feelings toward either royalty or gods (or the like). I am feeling it regardless of the damage inside my head and heart. She is amazing and I can’t say much about her, and to feel everything to such a great degree and keep it all bottled up is going to cause major fucking issues. I don’t know exactly how much or when, but I am intelligent enough to know that being heeled over this far and full of such desire, nothing good can come of it. The prime point with that last statement is the fact that what I want and need is again impossible. Just like ‘her’, Jamie, or all those other wonderful visions of love and understanding, this one is completely impossible. It is the worst, in fact, and if I can’t reconcile myself with the idea that nothing can develop, I am going to shut the fuck down. Period. End of line."
Foiled Worship
Mature content No. 349 Published January 6th, 2023 10:03am pst read ( words) Past entries
"Being damned is not the reason I was so pissed off in the last one. Anger over the way some people have spoken to me for the last few months came to a head and I had to say something. Feeling as if my entire life is damned does not make me angry at all. I am unhappy, but becoming angry over the situation is not going to accomplish anything. The damaging dreams frustrate me quite a bit sometimes and then I flare, but the situation is nothing serious. I am not going to lash out at an individual, just the world. Most of the time, actually, my mood goes south because of other people, not feeling desire for that fucking girl. The feeling will peak sometimes and then I go on a tirade because of being in this position after five years of being completely fucked over for no good reason. The root of that shit is people, nothing else. I’ve been in a position to feel relief on a few occasions, too. Damned few. They all went away just like everything else. Back to the gray of reality, we float. And there is Portia. Wow. Beautiful hair on that woman. And? Much more. Ugh. Keeping all this shit to myself is fantastic because I don’t need to worry about anyone taking issue with my words or some errant gushing about a woman on the screen. Or? Anything else. I really don’t like the idea of placing my thoughts here for ME and then hearing some shit because a person disagrees or doesn’t like the manner in which I’ve built this site. Go build your own. It’s pretty easy. Anyway, This is the fourth entry since I ceased publishing. It feels nice. Any positives during this difficult time are going to be embraced. As much as I’d like to embrace something else, this is all I have anymore. Full control over this endeavor is becoming more important with each passing day. Honestly, I’ve pulled the content in the past with the intention of never making it available to other people in the future. Unfortunately, there are times when I must speak and ensure my words are public. Whatever the circumstances, sometimes the shit simply has to be available to others. My words are often nothing more than raw feelings, the most striking of which is anger, so when I become full of disdain for a person or people, the shit on the site follows suit (much like toward the end of the last entry. I don’t care if anyone reads the rest of the writing. I only want them to read the anger because they are the cause. 1106. I finished half the routine because the kitchen is fine for the time being. I’ll take care of it after lunch. I also went to two markets for a few items. The return trip had me at sixes and sevens for the umpteenth time because of a girl walking up the boulevard. My brain instantly rolled back the clock to the damaging dreams and subsequent visions. I simply could not believe the sight of her pants and legs. There appeared a feature that I hesitate to mention, though. I’d rather leave it out of this essay because should the information eventually make it to the production environment, I will probably receive a blast of shit. Her gait drove me insane as I made my way up the road to the small market. Damn it. At least I have a glass of whiskey to calm the mood for a while. The second market held its own fascination in the form of one of the owners (I think) at the register. She is frightening, always very efficient and polite, yet there is almost zero personality coming through while she works. It’s as though she is not happy to be at the checkout lane. I usually see younger people there, so perhaps the older woman was simply filling in for a while. Whichever the case, her face and everything below is wondrous. I can see the beauty behind her glasses and blank expression, and I can sense that outside of work and in a different atmosphere, the woman would likely be amazing to see. I will never know because in addition to being so dark and mysterious, there is an issue. My brain calculated that she may be the type to look gorgeous until the mood turns south. That is one of the scariest traits in existence due to the reasons why a person may exhibit such behavior. Well, she’s lovely, anyway. All I can do is look, much like the stunning girl on the boulevard. Anything else is most decidedly impossible. I really don’t like the fact that I feel worship for some of these visions – most notably the subject of the damaging dreams – and cannot do anything about it. There is no outlet whatsoever, although I’m sure some would see this exposition as cathartic. Well, it is not. I continue to slowly decline and withdraw, all the while flirting with the idea that my life ended some years ago and all I’ve been doing is floating along in my own netherworld. Worship is not good. It is off-balance, weak, and any number of other negative labels apply to feeling this way, most of which I’ve already stated here in spades. What? Did you say ‘desperation’? Yes, that too. This is a very bad situation. But... Does it matter? Will my words change anything? You decide. 1309. The laundry is almost finished and lunch is out of the way. I am still thinking about that fucking girl on the boulevard earlier. What a sight. Don’t ask what was going through my head as I drove. Everything from lines and measurements to... Use your imagination. Few occasions have found me close to those lines, and each was a failure of sorts. I don’t know why the sight of lines is always accompanied by fear. Jesus’ father on this show is a fucking asshole. 1540. Well, I went over to the hardware store to pick up bird seed because the feeder was empty. I like to keep the little guys happy. I couldn’t think of anything else, though. Upon returning, I decided to remedy the fucked up rain gutter situation in the back and deal with that shitty patio cover (which is to be completely rebuilt this spring). Whoever added the cover failed to consider water flow and left a half-inch hole for drainage from one gutter to another. One leaf could block the flow, and did just that. I basically tore the end off the fucking thing and whatever remaining water from the last storm ran down the spout. Hopefully, this will ease the overflow at the opposite end. There is a storm scheduled to arrive late tonight. I can’t WAIT to see that Goddamned patio cover torn to pieces and made to disappear. The replacement will be an integral part of the redesigned roof line. Very nice. There was nothing of note in the store, just in my head... The damaging dreams, that personality trait I found in the eighties, and the visions since the first dream came along have all combined into one massive cyclone of desire and wishful thinking. I am beginning to worship the creation. My out-of-balance life is tipping further. No visions. That is good and bad. I am absolutely yearning for a repeat of the last occurrence and losing my mind at the same time. What I saw was alluring beyond belief. I’ve not had many chances, and most of the time the glimpse is so fleeting that for a split second I am somewhere else, as if no longer present for any conversation or the like. My brain melts and begins to worship what I’ve seen. I can’t help it, either. Nothing in the world has pulled at me with such force. I need her to be the one who makes everything go away. The lines are in there, too. I already know. But I cannot say. Vampires are still gracing the second display. I keep thinking about the desktop machine and the days ahead allowing me to set it up correctly for my needs. Yes, I said need, not want. All of the other conditions and situations have boiled down to one simple fact, and that is I need them all rolled up into one savior. I need her. Everything is impossible. Worship is unhealthy. 0644 on Wednesday, January the fourth. A storm should be arriving later. I hope my work yesterday helps the situation somewhat. I have no plans to go anywhere today because I’ve been informed the harshest part of the weather will be during business hours. At least that means I get to experience it rather than waking up to the effects like most of the time. I love it when the planet makes us feel small. As for anything beyond the normal routine, I believe continuing in the office and trying to reorganize the storage will be best. I also have an idea for a cabinet modification in the kitchen which will ease the storage in that room, too. I need to do some woodwork to such an end, so perhaps the idea will not go beyond the planning stage today. I don’t like to be out there when the wind is strong. The doors may need to remain closed. The office will be my sanctuary once again. This space is becoming more comfortable than I had originally thought.
Concern
I am weaker than ever, and now with a new cherry on top. This is fucking peachy. The previous paragraph (filler while I try to think) seems positive and productive. But now? I have to go back into the negative space and daydream about her. Sometimes this is the best part of the day but it can lead to the worst. More often than not, actually. There is a distinct possibility that when I dream without remembering the details, my head continues in the same mood on a subconscious level, like as I sit here with my coffee and try to sort things out. If true, it would explain why at some point each day my mind descends into a dark place and I end up operating almost as if programmed... The same words, mistakes, and attitude. The dreams that I remember clearly cause a different, more analytical sort of mood and I do not typically fall down as hard. I end up damaged, but feeling the broken nature of my existence is sometimes not as bad as the alternative. I need her to help me because no one else has the power to effect change in a positive direction. Oh, I’ve been placated, babied and splattered by bullshit plenty and recognize the difference, believe me. The dreams have been completely different, as in finding that place in which there is no more fear or worry without uttering a single word. I have to put this on pause soon and make pancakes. 0837. The morning business is finished and I am back in the cocoon with my last cup of coffee. The vampires pay no mind. I wish I was one of them. There was a brief vision. Splendid. And this laptop display is looking smaller all the time, likely due to two twenty-seven inch monitors directly behind this machine, one of them sporting high-definition video at this very moment. Eh... A couple of weeks, perhaps, until the desktop machine arrives. I’ve waited this long, right? The worship is already under way but I am nowhere near the source nor the reason. It is far away and I will never find a way to be closer. Never. This is one of the sad truths of living right now. The other is... Well, never mind. Let’s just say that some aspects of life which always served to keep me alive have been torn away. I have been relating those very same parts of life with the dreams, and they in turn led to some pretty fucking desperate mornings. Worship is way out of balance unless one is referring to the topic of religion (and still others might state that such divine worship is also unbalanced, but I disagree), and I know it. I am conscious of the issues inside me and understand the largest, I believe. Regardless, I sit here in this chair feeling that I would worship her to no end, consequences be damned. A while back I stated in no uncertain terms that I can no longer be good for anyone. The worship is a part of the reason. Worship for someone to whom I am not even attached or close is even worse. Just look back at how much I gushed about Jamie. In love with her? Yep, still. That will never change. None of this shit is good in any way. I am in a dream world with the visions and such, and the entire situation has become so different from the way I lived life before the damage that I can’t see back. I am no longer aware of the place I used to inhabit, nor can I return to it. There is barely a semblance of the past left in my brain. More than four years ago when asked of my condition, I replied that I felt like a train wreck. Well, I thought I was. Now? Destroyed. I’ve been dreaming and gushing about a very difficult situation that cannot and will not change, ever, and I no longer see a positive path within reach. This office and the upcoming desktop machine are about all I have left. The little comforts have been waning. I need her to show me the way. I also need her to show me the lines. Do you fucking hear this shit? I am completely sideways and sliding into the worst scrape imaginable. Pause for the cause. I see 1140 on the clocks. The routine is finished and I am in the office for a while. Well, let us call it the control center. The desktop machine will arrive soon and the circle shall be complete. For right now, I am not going to begin any laundry for fear of the house losing power. The wind outside is scheduled to ramp up all day and really slam this area late tonight. There have already been gusts which sounded as if they moved the house. The rain is still light for the next few hours. I have a few things charging just in case, including the batteries in this computer. They have been idle and sitting on the drafting table since moving the laptop to the office, but I decided to charge them for two reasons. One, in case of an outage, and two, the machine will warm my hands at the same time. Heh. Lafayette is one of the best characters I have ever seen on either television or film. He is amazing from beginning to end... Lafayette: ‘Oh, shit!’ Jesus: ‘What?’ Lafayette: ‘Marnie just puked a bitch up.’ Jesus: ‘What do you mean?’ Lafayette: ‘I mean... She opened her mouth and a woman flew the fuck out.’ I fucking love this show sometimes. Unfortunately, the show (and all of the others) takes a far-back seat to the burning, searing desire for that girl to be right here with me, and more. Oh... Much more. Fuck me in a muddy ditch. I want her so badly. The remainder of this day will be devoted to working in the office and other parts of the house. I should not be doing anything outside after yesterday’s foray into the rain gutter system. The modifications may help, or they may fail. Right now I can’t know which. Once the shit hits the fan, though, all will be clear. The entire patio cover and roofline are to be improved this spring, so whatever I can do in the meantime is temporary anyway. I don’t want to throw money at the issue. That would be a waste. So, inside the house I shall remain for the duration. All the while I will be picturing that vision from more than a week ago and the imagery from three out of the four damaging dreams. I need to see EVERYTHING, for fuck’s sake. I need it more than oxygen. Sometimes I want to plant my lips to Luna’s fucking labia and remain as such for an entire calendar day. Just a thought. Paint a fucking picture. I don’t care. This is what I’ve become. There are considerations attached to my desire to worship her, some I can mention here and a few I cannot. One huge such consideration is how she relates to that personality trait from many years ago, something I’ve always found enticing for reasons I cannot mention. Another is the idea of the machine. Yep, that’s right, the fucking machine again. The reason is not something of which I am proud, however. The way I feel toward the girl and many other aspects of life is completely fucking skewed at this point in time. Moreover, my sense of life itself is skewed beyond belief. I have yet to find the ability to come to terms about this shit, too. After all of the heat I’ve taken, shit that has been plowed, and hurdles overcome, I can often rationalize the way I think. The one exception is the way I feel about her and the situation as it is in reality. Unfortunately, I can’t spell it out here. Everything must remain tightly locked away. Despite all of the desire and dreams, most of what I do is still driven by fear. Feel free to blame whomever you wish. I do. And myself? Yep, that too. Oh, God... There is Lois again. She is so fucking annoying sometimes. Anyway, the circumstances of my desire for her have been driven partly by the dreams and partly due to visions right in front of my face. The latter have been excessive, to be honest, and the strength required in maintaining my composure during those seconds is nearly too much for my desperate and weakened state. Connecting my desire for her and the machine took mere milliseconds. That’s it. I assembled the entire image so quickly that even I couldn’t believe the speed. Now? My brain bounces back and forth between the machine and those considerations at light speed. Whatever she may be carrying, I have to put discretion before everything else. There are aspects to an individual’s personality that must be regarded with the utmost importance and prioritized accordingly with regard to my feelings. Believe me, this is not something which can be trivialized. The weather is fairly calm right now except for the occasional gust of wind. The storm is coming, though. There can be no avoiding it.
Fear
Now I have the wireless MDRs on the charger just in case. I need the media to follow me all fucking day long, honestly. I’ve heard the phrase, ‘child of the seventies’ many times over the years, meaning that those born in the sixties were young during the next decade, which had been literally driven by television. I am a product of the philosophy that while physically alone I can be kept company by television programs and/or movies. The last three years have proven such a fact. The shows I have watched over and over are like friends to me now, most notably those dozen or so I’ve mentioned here in spades. The wireless headphones link to my phone, and the cellular network keeps the media flowing so long as I have prime battery power. Most people consider three aspects of living to be critical; shelter, warmth and food. For me? I need not worry about those, a fact I appreciate every second of every day. The lack of worry means I can point my attention and devices toward my deep need for the television shows to continue playing regardless of power or anything else. They not only help me relax, but the characters can also help to dilute my overwhelming desire for that fucking girl. The batteries and other devices must function no matter the circumstances. I would be one unpleasant motherfucker without them. Ooh-fa... Tara as a vampire. I can’t stop picturing the last vision. Right there... Not three fucking feet from my desperate, fucked-up eyes. I can still see the movement and the exaggeration. I can still see the numbers, and I can still feel the desire as if it took place seconds ago. My need for her is gaining strength even now. All else has gone by the wayside. The clincher? Personality. Ahh... There is my love... NORA. Holy Jesus Harold Christ on a fucking rubber crutch, you wanna talk about beauty? God help me. I spent over a hundred dollars for the equipment required to mount my phone to the top of the big tripod and record three seconds of her walking toward the camera. I needed stability. She had to be clear. God damn do I ever love that woman. Do you remember Jolaimora? Jolene, Jamie, and NORA. And yes, I realize the ‘a’ and ‘i’ should be the other way around. The name is indicative of the machine I created in the fictional story... Jaime. Live with it. I ordered two vinyl/wire organizers to mount on two cabinet doors. The total was less than thirty dollars as opposed to me fabricating something out of plywood that would probably end up looking like shit, being larger and heavier than those I ordered, and most likely not working as well. I want to get all the shit under the sink so the other drawers can be reconfigured. Holy shit is the wind ever gusting. The rain should be in less than two hours, but when it comes, I believe I’ll have to close the garage door because it will be going in circles. I like that door open so I can take little breaks and watch the neighborhood swirl during this crazy weather. Lunch is in the oven. Just a snack. I have a nice dinner planned, so nothing heavy right now. This is the type of day I used to daydream about years ago. Whenever the weather went insane, I always wished to be home, both to keep an eye on the house and to enjoy the power of the planet. These days I need not worry about being home, though. I prefer to be here as often as possible with the media and my projects. Some of the others don’t understand how I can remain here so much and still be content, but believe me, this is the way of my mind. I need the quiet, time and space to think and consider my place in the world. Watching the jetstream making us feel small is a bonus. Most of the time after work we would stop by the bar and catch up with friends. Sometimes I would skip the bar and head straight home to relax, feeling overjoyed to be here. And then the Saturday mornings after I brewed coffee and began to wash clothes, I’d sit here in the office and write. At the outset of the pandemic, part of me wondered whether or not the free time and space would lose its luster after a period of time, but I can say in all certainty that it has only gained value. This coming April will mark three years. I need to remain mindful and appreciative of what I’ve gained, even when feeling down. I wonder if I can operate three monitors off the new computer. It has four video outputs, one HDMI and three DP, I believe. I have two displays right now because I was trying to recreate the old desktop system, but now I may acquire a third monitor and expand the usability of this system. I could easily configure the windows on twin outputs to streamline the applications and then send my programming on a third. The graphics capability of the new computer is more than enough to accomplish such a feat. Wow. One of my garbage cans just blew over. Heh. I guess the forecast wasn’t exaggerating the severity of the wind gusts. I just ordered a third display to match the other two. I need my comfort. Thursday morning, rather early. I have coffee and my typical friends on the second display. I ceased this endeavor yesterday in the interest of keeping an eye on the house as the storm grew through the afternoon. The garage was a good place to maintain watch on everything. The wind grew out of control as I watched the level of rain go from a thin drizzle to an outright downpour several times over the course of just one hour. I remained in the garage until nearly dinner time. No damage, unlike my brain. Today is one of those days in which I will have a few hours alone in order to take care of my usual chores. After the weather yesterday, I’ll be happy to remain indoors for quite a while. The office may call me, too. Spending time here reminds me of the dark eras – from zero-three all the way up to and including seventeen – and the way I flexed myself through the site whenever the mood struck. So, on and off during the day I’ll be sitting right here. I need to keep busy as best I can because any down time allows the girl and the dreams to float back into me, effectively causing distress and derailing anything I am trying to accomplish. Once I begin to daydream about her, my efforts are for shit. My weekdays are becoming precious as I continue to look back to working so much for years, so I’ll have to try and stay upright while taking the time to appreciate being here as much as I need. I am beginning to feel pain if I miss a glimpse or recall some of the others from the past several months. The last was unreal and I need more... Much more. Nothing will come of this, of course, meaning all I’ve been doing lately is deluding myself and worshiping something completely unattainable, much like certain material objects over which I have drooled for decades (I actually acquired one of them but the story is unpleasant). Regardless, I am far too weak to actually help myself in any way. The choice continues to be nothing positive and only burying myself deeper inside a world that cannot and does not exist. A good portion of the reason I’ve made myself suffer constantly is the need to have her in the manner I wish and my inability to face the reality that she represents the largest and most stark impossibility in existence. And I still worship her. And Nora. God, I love her so much. Delusions. Worship. A lack of connection with the real world. All these things add up to the fact that I should probably be hospitalized in the future. Fortunately, I am an expert at snowing people into believing whatever I need, or conversely, forcing them into accepting my deviant nature after a very manipulative conversation. Control not only applies to the house and my atmosphere. It applies to everything. I have to keep this going for as long as possible because what little comfort is left available to me has become more important than ever. The desktop system is one way I’ve secured some of that comfort, too. ‘Once more unto the office’, as it were.
Awe
There is a timeline to all this shit. It began long ago and each exclamation point along the road through time is related to the last, or at least reinforces the previous point. The culmination is what you have been reading. I can see all those sections of the timeline during which there were events which helped to shape my place in the world in general, and the way I dealt with future events in particular. One led to the next and then the next, all of them eventually congealing into a huge issue in my head and creating more roadblocks than opportunities. One aspect of such a series of events that I do not bring up very often is the fact that I have aged along the way (naturally) and my personality has followed suit in some ways. My old boss used to say that whatever type of traits a person has as they age become more cemented in later years if they do not try to understand or change anything. I can feel that some of my traits from the past have improved due to my efforts to be different from the herd, while others have worsened. The worship I am feeling is due to a combination of the timeline and my personality. You may have noticed that I almost constantly state the idea that I am out of balance. That is not just an observation, either. I can see it every day when I consider the way others live their lives. Not a moment passes in this life when I am not calculating or analyzing behavior, and not just my own. The timeline and certain segments therein have turned me into the type of person who is incapable of being at peace and seeing some parts of the world in a very unfortunate light, including people. The worship is powerful, believe me, and now appears as a natural extension of the timeline as well as a result of decades of difficulties. I can see how I’ve traveled from ‘a’ to ‘b’ to ‘c’ and beyond, if you see the meaning. I remember all of the bad and constantly analyze to learn the reasons why I feel such emotions these days. Not a moment passes when I am not trying to understand something, and the effort is fucking exhausting. The passage from one event to the next combined them as time passed and left me more desperate than I could have ever imagined. A simple trip to the market – like a few days ago when I saw the gray pants – ends up an enormous event in my head and I feel a combination of a lack of power and a deep need to grab the subject and run away. I would not, of course. The observation is only to help frame such a mindset and the levels of weakness, desperation and anger that are carried inside me no matter the circumstances on a given day. I could be just fine one moment and then leave the house, see something wondrous and beautiful, and then I immediately fall down and overanalyze why that kind of sight causes such pain. I felt it the other day, and I feel it when I recall the damaging dreams. The situation feels like I’ve traveled from ‘c’ to ‘d’ in a matter of months. I don’t know what the letters mean, either. They are points of reference, nothing more. The point is everything has been cumulative over time and I am affected every fucking day by the sum. I feel such worship for the subject of the damaging dreams due to the eighties, a few issues in the nineties, all those failed days trying to learn about the birth of the obsession, and then my connections to several different people throughout many years, all of them being gone. A while back I tossed out the possibility that I may be on a road with no turns. Remember that? I am here due to the letters, each being something I cannot forget and a small part of the most hideous personality imaginable... Mine. The worship is going to continue to strengthen. The drives and sightings are going to become more debilitating and frustrating. The words are going to continue, as well. I have nothing else. 0842. Oh, Nora. Come here and hold me. Tell me everything will be alright. God damn do I ever love you. I should be ashamed of such a statement, but I’m not. Some of the faeries drive me insane. I am reminded of the girl in the gray pants and that massive tidal wave of desire that came upon my head in a nanosecond. My perception of the world is so fucking distorted these days that the smallest incident drives me nuts. That was a big one because I saw her and instantly felt the damaging dreams return to my psyche like a flood of desperate need. Holy shit, the rain is dumping right now. Anyway, that girl on the boulevard is a perfect example of how weakened I have become of late. This is all so very bad. The faeries are magical and impossible, just like everything swirling in my head. Dreams are impossible. Happiness is floating away like leaves in the gutter. My time in the office is pushing me to avoid work for a long time. Those years of wishing for some freedom have taken their toll and as I said before, I must remain appreciative of this situation. I have all the time in the world, and regardless of whether it serves me well or causes more problems, it is mine. I can decide to try, or I can continue to live inside this cavern. So far, I have been unable to fully embrace the possibilities, but that does not mean I can’t. It only means that as of yet I have not made an effective plan beyond this office. Nora. She is one of a handful of reasons I still watch this insanity of a series. The gangsters are the same due to Jamie. At some point I will move out of this room and begin my routine. Right now I need to keep the house as quiet as possible. The MDRs help. My coffee is almost gone. The time is now 0921 and the day is all mine. 1135 and I am back in the office. This control center is so comfortable. I am still reminded of the days passed which found me here on any given afternoon with booze and music as I attempted to understand everything. God damn is Deborah’s eye makeup ever gorgeous. Wow. Anyway, I am sitting here once again today because I have some hours alone and I need to continue the exploration of whatever it is I’ve become. Even after doing my routine and making plans for the afternoon and dinner, the image of that last vision is still plaguing me. I want her so bad that sometimes I can’t fucking see straight. The gray pants sting me to this very moment, as well. I can see her gait and gyrating motions from hips to knees and may completely lose my shit over her. I was driving and saw her form for perhaps three fucking seconds and this is what has happened. Do you see? There was more power and fear related to that girl than a dozen fucking nefarious governments. To me, anyway. I am insane. I need to see more. I need to see everything. I need to trace those lines with my fingertips. Go ahead... Laugh at me again. The reasons for me returning to the computer and sitting at this table as often as I am able should be abundantly clear. If not, you are an idiot. My previous desktop system pushed two displays, and did it well. The computer itself came from the cave period and held up pretty well for the next several years. I believe it was a home theatre PC that could perform double duty as a processor and media device at the same time. In the cave I had but one display, but once here in the office, it drove two, one being more than forty inches as measured diagonally. The new setup will be three identical units, all twenty-seven inches. The center display will be for media while the other two will run all the windows involved in what I do with the site, those being the FTP application, IDE, browser and clouds. Believe it or not, I am actually excited about this table being my sanctuary once again. I really need it. Five years ago when the fear of everything drove me to downsize, I cleared out the office and moved toward a mobile platform just in case the shit hit the fan and I wished to run away. Now that I have realized that the lifestyle involved in running away is far too extravagant to be supported by available resources, I decided that remaining here in the house with a powerful control center is best. Powerful? Indeed, but it is a machine. Nothing has the power to dissuade my head from descending into a pair of pants. Not anymore. Two pairs are in mind right now. Just two. Worship is for royalty, not everyday people. The only upside is I am the only one who knows of these deep feelings. 1431. I have the laundry almost finished and nothing else on the schedule for today. Maybe dry cleaning. The table needs to be addressed prior to the third display arriving, meaning I’ll have to make sure everything is in order for such a large setup. Bud’s wife in the show is absolutely reprehensible and disgusting, yet the actor played her part to a tee. Awesome. This table is a full three by six feet, meaning there is plenty of space for such a large amount of screen real estate. I believe the center unit will carry the programming while the two wing displays hold the workings of the site.
Worship
Oh. My. God. A very bad situation has developed inside my head in the last few minutes due to something I saw. Very bad. That is an understatement. Nora is all over the screen and it barely matters because of the vision. Jesus fucking Christ, I suspected throughout the last several months, but honestly nothing was clear until today. I can’t believe it. And I can’t believe the fucking cyclone going on in my head right now. I have to have a drink in order to calm the burning desire. This is unbelievable and I can’t breathe a word to anyone. Holy shit and God and everything else. I am going to lose my mind very soon. I can take little more of my suspicions being confirmed and then seeing them in reality. Fuck me in a ditch. Almost time to flip out. I am feeling worship, without a doubt. I am also completely fucked. I still can’t believe the reality of this situation as it has developed during the past half year or so. The anniversary of the first damaging dream is but a few months away. Today pretty much cemented what has been swirling inside me and to have my dreams confirmed in reality is not something with which I can easily deal. One more time... Very bad. I don’t know what the fuck to do, but there is one idea that is now gospel, and that is to avoid going out as much as possible and put the kibosh to working for the foreseeable future. My need to see is stronger than ever. This will prove to be the worst unrequited situation in my history. As I sit in this chair, I swear that I’ve not felt this level of desire in my life. Not even close. And believe me, I’ve flipped the fuck out over desire in the past. I have also nearly destroyed everything. I am worshiping something without one smidgen of reality being involved. I can’t fucking believe this situation and have no clue as to how to alleviate the symptoms. It just keeps worsening, often out of control, like today. The vision was so unreal that I can’t even manufacture a frame of reference. Good thing my desktop control center is shaping up or I’d be entirely without direction. The power inherent is beyond description. Fear? Yes, some of that, too. This office is going to be my tomb. Friday morning has arrived and my brain is still saturated with the image from yesterday. I have to figure out a way to shove it back far enough for me to relax a bit. Oh, God. Nora again. Damn. I don’t need her winding through my heart this early in the morning. And speaking of morning, I am overjoyed to have made it through the night. Something happened near two or three that resulted in my lower back becoming very painful. I nearly had to get up and grab the heating pad just to get comfortable enough to sleep again. It was bad. Now that I’ve made it through the motions of the early stuff, I have found that this chair is very comfortable and is not causing further problems. That means I can be comfortable in my cocoon today. I need this most of the time. My little world with my little dreams and devices. Very important, this stuff. And the feelings have expanded further. I keep seeing yesterday’s unbelievable development over and over and I can’t seem to stop my imagination from running away with visions of desperate need and the accompanying pain. This is the worst shit I could have ever conceived. I can’t do anything about it and I can’t say anything about it. I have to sit on this information like warming an egg that can never hatch. If anything in my world has the power to drive me fully insane – not that silly moodiness or something trivial; I’m talking about the real thing – being in this position and knowing what I know has become nearly too much to bear, and this is it. I am referring to the combined power of the universe all rolled up into one big explosive fucking wrecking ball to my head. The time is 0728 and I’ll be doing the morning business very soon. After? Right back here to rest myself, maybe with the heat. The incident from yesterday is going to ruin my morning if I’m not vigilant in my actions. I keep seeing it over and over, two different angles and all of the calculations that come with them, and then just enough light showing for me to realize that there was more than I had dreamed. I need to know the rest... I need everything. All of it. This is going to be a tough day after a rough night. The imagery and dreamy fantasies are going to have to be jammed to the rear if I am to function. Never in my life have I wanted something so bad. Not the B-1 nor the Slipper; not even the fucking Passion, believe it or not. The morning business is complete and I am back in the cocoon for the duration. One more cup of coffee, too. I’ve been thinking about yesterday while preparing for the morning. I still can’t believe what I saw. Suspicions were there, likely all the way back to the first dream, and then later there had been little clues that came along. I’m talking about split-second incidents, honestly. I knew there was more to the situation, yet until yesterday I could not be certain. Now I am completely out of my fucking mind and need everything much more than a mere day ago. I am insane. Never have I seen anything so enticing and wondrous, and believe me... I’ve seen some fucking beauty in this world. Again, I am insane. I am also going to explode one of these days because of the sheer amount of pent up information inside my head with zero chance of an outlet. Oh, Nora. Please hold me. Kiss me, too. Today is all mine thanks to taking care of the laundry and dry cleaning yesterday. This is very good and may help offset my back issue and the fact that I am losing my mind over the recent developments and need to remain isolated and with the space to think. I really need to work out a plan to help me survive this shit. As usual, no one is listening. I forced things to be this way out of fear, but that does not mean that I like it. I simply needed to remain quiet toward others. Still do, honestly, because the subject matter is completely nuts. Ugh... Back to this day. I am glad to have the house to myself for a while. The quiet and peaceful nature of the neighborhood during a business day is very important to me, and very comfortable. I will probably take care of my routine and not much else. My back needs a rest (as does my tired-out brain). One more time... Oh, Nora. I am really going to have to push this morning. The routine is no big deal, too. It’s never that time-consuming, to be honest. Even when the kitchen is completely thrashed, I don’t mind the work because I always have my friends in the background. Installing the television in the kitchen is one of the best things I’ve done with this house. Soon I’ll have the office, as well. For now, however, I have to figure a way to get her out of my head or the work will feel very tedious. I can’t have that, especially considering the condition of my back today. She holds so much power that I can’t believe it. Jesus God does Nora ever have an ass. Holy shit. Anyway, this difficulty came about last year and then expanded a bit, but even while trying to work with what I had been feeling, I never expected the situation to worsen so much, and so quickly. Yesterday was too much. I am desperate and worship her so much that everything else – including my excitement over rebuilding the control center – is losing importance at an alarming rate. I need to scream at the top of my lungs but I can’t. This just keeps worsening. Maybe the new computer will help to distract me from so much desire. Worship is bad unless it refers to feelings toward either royalty or gods (or the like). I am feeling it regardless of the damage inside my head and heart. She is amazing and I can’t say much about her, and to feel everything to such a great degree and keep it all bottled up is going to cause major fucking issues. I don’t know exactly how much or when, but I am intelligent enough to know that being heeled over this far and full of such desire, nothing good can come of it. The prime point with that last statement is the fact that what I want and need is again impossible. Just like ‘her’, Jamie, or all those other wonderful visions of love and understanding, this one is completely impossible. It is the worst, in fact, and if I can’t reconcile myself with the idea that nothing can develop, I am going to shut the fuck down. Period. End of line."
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