An Insidious Mindset Mature content No. 426 Published October 4th, 2024 10:31am pdt read ( words) Past entries "I switched browsers and there have been zero issues with glitching while streaming MAX. I used to have an aversion to MS browsers for reasons I will not outline here, but switched just to see if the problem followed. It did not. Right out of the fucking gate, I mention the glitching issue because it’s very important to me. Now there is no interference with other windows or tabs as my shows play on the right-hand monitor. Not bad. And? Just after publishing the previous essay, I ventured to the map and found the exact location where I saw Jaime. The EXACT location within Balboa Park. That is another clue as to just how fucked up I’ve become over the years. Isn’t that splendid? Basket case. The basement is coming. The basement may be the only place where I can be safe. Isolation; quiet; space to explore the damaging dreams and that horrible change from two years ago. That fucking thing reared its ugly head at the festival, and I am not referring to the six-footer. This is something else entirely. Not good. As for the images of Jaime, well... I am in love with her. That is fucking ridiculous. I captured her in April of 2010 prior to everything turning to shit. Fourteen years later, I’ve become obsessed with the images and must see them every day. She makes the video playback issue disappear very quickly. Everything else, too. I do not know what to do about this shit. I don’t mention her that much anymore because I realize how fucking stupid it all sounds and wish to minimize possible backlash. Monday. I can’t get Jaime out of my head. Perhaps ‘I’ to ‘we’ can help a bit... Oh, boy... The inside is all fucked up, but we know. We know everything as the feelings and situations have evolved over the years. Most recently, we’ve referred to just over two years ago when a switch flipped inside and we made the ill-found decision to consider certain very specific aspects of people differently than in the past, afterward crafting elaborate scenes inside with nary a chance to analyze any of it. Everything must remain status quo or we are fucking finished. ‘Woe is us’. Let us go back in time to compare the current era to more than ten years ago while we were mired in daily work... ‘I did this to myself, but that action – or series of actions - had nothing to do with this place. I was elsewhere, both physically and emotionally. No one in this place had a breath or thought of me. They had no idea what was going on because of the distance. There was no possibility of that. What I should have done was leave, remain quiet and closed off, and wallow as I have done for so many years. Jesus fucking Christ why did I not? Am I that inane? Yes, absolutely. Enough that I knew not the consequences of my backward thoughts. Backward plans. Backward actions. Just fucking backward. Counter-productive to the last. That is me. I sit, sleep, eat, drink, work, drive, think, think, think... All of which, when taken as a whole, becomes for naught. The work pays for things (not worth it), and the rest have been unnecessary from the start. The whole of it all has taken me for a hellish ride. And it continues.’ We had few options back then with regard to daily life. 'I', again. I've brought up that text before because it was a defining period of the modern era. I still feel the same way, as well. Only the 'work' differs. Morning time is always nice and quiet. Today is no different. There is a birthday dinner later this afternoon, and just as the past couple of years, I am the salad maker. One is already finished, the other shall wait until later. I need to let the components chill before they can be processed and mixed. One rub this morning is the fact that there is a massive cellular outage that seems to span from coast to coast in this country. Verizon has been out since I sat here nearly three hours ago. My phone is displaying ‘SOS’ the entire time – I still have the thing connected via the wireless network in the house, but calls and texts are down – and after a bit of investigating, the issue is very widespread. I wonder what the hell happened that could affect so many areas. Is there something wrong with a satellite? I have been checking the news from time to time but as of yet, nothing significant. I am seeing tons of reports on the outage but no cause. Very interesting. There have been a ton of people reporting the outage on DownDetector, to the tune of over 100k in three hours. Wow. Anyway, my coffee is gone so I’ll probably take care of the daily routine soon. I need to keep the house quiet for the time being. I will be heading to the north end of town in about four hours. If I can extricate Jaime from my brain, the day may progress better than it has thus far. Ugh. I love her. Hmm... The problem could not be just one satellite because I believe they are in geosynchronous orbit over various parts of the globe. One satellite can’t cover from one coast to the other. I don’t think so, anyway. I’ll have to seek some information. I finished the routine and poured a nice cocktail, and after 11am the outage still continues unimpeded. Very interesting. At least nothing has affected the garbage trucks. Heh. One funny aspect of those trucks is the fact that despite some of them having failed backup alarms – they just buzz and sound ridiculous – rather than replacing the faulty units, the company added new ones. Now they make two sounds at the same time. Silly. I am not a person who needs the phone for business or anything pressing, so having it connected to the wireless network at least allows me to access the Internet if needed. Lots of people are in some real pretty shit without the phone service. I feel for them. Like the man said, ‘May you live in interesting times’. Sometimes ‘interesting’ causes huge problems. I still have to make the second salad but don’t give a shit yet. I’ll get to it in a little while, I suppose. The process is simple. Isn’t this entry fascinating? Raise one eyebrow. Oh... Shit. I just refreshed the news feed regarding the cellular outage and now three carriers are having problems. Unbelievable. I don’t mean to propagate rumors, but could this be intentional? I hope not. I’m sure the general public will be in the dark even after everything is restored. We seldom receive accurate information and have a difficult time knowing for sure one way or the other. The main topic has been absent as of yet. Big fucking surprise. And? Holy God is Jamie ever something to see. She is so beautiful that the idea of smashing my head to pieces comes to mind quite often these days. God fucking damn it anyway, why do I have to feel this way? Am I experiencing fictophilia? The possibility is not very far off the mark. If so, it is an insidious mindset. One of two, actually. There you go. I am completely fucked in the head. Is there any significance to Tuesday? Nope. Coffee. Gangsters. Depression. The drive was quite slow this morning, although there will be no more of that crap for three days. Nice. No beauty; no worries. Slow traffic is the norm on weekdays. Last night I was up later than usual due to a small gathering next door after visiting the bar post-dinner. The place was very mellow and for a change I was not terribly uncomfortable. Next door was nothing, really. A little bit of conversation. Being up later than the norm has become increasingly difficult throughout the last few years. I notice more and more often that I end up wishing I’d left myself out of certain affairs. Oh, well... Not a big deal. At least I have an overage of free time these days. Rarely is anything very difficult because I can always relax and consider my options. The real trouble is when my head travels sideways in the morning. Such situations disallow any creative writing and hinder my efforts at inner exploration. This is one such morning, too. The shit went sideways quickly, but I recovered. The past will not let go of my fucking feet when I try to walk forward in life. Damn. The clock is creeping along rather than spinning out of control. This is good. The routine will be very quick and I will end up with all the time in the world to do whatever seems best. Not bad. The film industry is trying to creep in again. I’ll have to keep that shit pushed back for the time being. Andrea and Ashley, too, mostly due to those names popping back into my head via media and whatnot. Sometimes there is an inordinate amount of reminders floating near me and it drives me nuts. The six-foot woman from last weekend, for example, had me daydreaming about the fact that Ashley was so fucking tall and the other one was just one inch shorter. Even the Raven stood five-seven despite being so slender. Between the tall woman at the festival and being reminded of those names, I am surprised to have avoided gushing all over the place like I used to while writing those stories. Being reminded of Andrea is tough because we were in our own world for weeks; a world we created in order to escape the shackles of real life. She just happened to come along when my willingness to shove everything to the rear and flip the fuck out for a while was at an all-time high. In 2003 when I ran away and ended up meeting both Juliette and Ashley, I had only thought I was being reckless. There were still connections, though. The true freedom was being with Andrea. Thanks to that super-tall woman from the other day for bringing me back in time and imagining actually looking up at Andrea when she wore her booties. Holy shit. Maybe the film industry is a safer draw right now. Ooh-fa... The temperature outside is ramping up damned fast. Early this morning when I was preparing for the drive, the house was very cool – right close to 67 – and I walked outside to feel 77. Now? The garage is 91 prior to noon and the forecast calls for a high of 96 by 4pm. Jesus. At least the wind is blowing right now. That helps. There will be no cooking tonight, though. I can’t heat the kitchen and then enjoy some hot food because there is no insulation in the walls or attic of this little cracker box (yet) and the mercury will continue to rise indoors and then fall flat at some point this evening. Holy moly is it ever hot outside, especially in the sun. I wasn’t expecting this shit today, but now that I know, my activities will be adjusted accordingly. Had we taken the trip to Thousand Oaks this morning, the current position would be somewhere down interstate 5 in even more heat. Yes, my car has one hell of an air conditioning system, but still... Exiting the car in 100-degree heat is never fun when the interior is held at 68 by yours truly. Again, ‘may you live in interesting times’. No shit. I took care of the quick routine, and now I can relax for the remainder of the day. High temperatures slow me way the fuck down every time. On the upside, the heat will distract me from problems. Later. The mindset is still apparent. I have the house to myself for the next several hours, too. That’s good. Having the time and space to think clearly is something for which I dreamed for years while working full-time. There were days when my mind was going a million miles an hour and I couldn’t do anything about it. I tried to record my thoughts in the cloud as often as possible, but there was never enough time. I was distracted. The situation was analogous to lying in bed at night and ‘writing’ some thoughts, only to fall asleep and forget it all by morning. Not good. Today is a prime example of the gradient between the years I worked and those that have found me with more than enough quiet time to explore. If I could understand the reasoning behind such an insidious mindset, everything would move along much better. After more than two years, I still don’t get it. Part of the change is understandable, to be honest, yet not a day goes by without me dreaming of things better left alone. All of the related keywords have to be left out of this content, meaning no one is going to follow along. Is that important? Yes, mostly because a small part of me is still open to external connections with regard to my mental health. The information is very fucking subjective and quite the anathema which doesn’t help matters at all. Any potential connection would create so much fear inside me that the possibility of help could die before ever seeing the light of day. At least I have all this time at my disposal. Better than nothing. Ah... There is Oksana and her five-eight stance and stunning gait. What I wouldn’t give... Eh, never mind. The first scene of decent length involving her character is related to everything that pains me on a given day. No, she is not the problem. There is something else. Ugh. Oksana is unrelated to the insidious thinking in which I engage during nearly every waking moment. She is a person. And what am I? No idea. Wednesday. Significance? Nope. Coffee is about all there is thus far. The nature of the way I think slammed me as soon as I poured the drink and headed into this office a little while ago. A girl popped into my head and is now stuck right behind my eyes. I’ve seen her on occasion – usually when least expecting someone so picturesque on the sidewalk – and I pretty much lose my sense of direction for a while because of what goes through my mind. The feelings have been increasing, as well, and I seem to have become more focused than in the past. The way I view people these days is a direct result of the insidious mindset, and that, in turn, was born of two factors; fear and desperation. This was bound to happen at some point. Seeing her represents the change that took place a couple of years ago, as well. That one is still partly a mystery, although there are clues from my own past that have informed me of ideas of how I turned out this way. And yes, part of that shit is fear. Much of the way I live my life these days is driven by fear, meaning anything related to the past and driving me toward worry is not surprising. It’s almost like I expect something to hurt and bring me down every time I sit here to think. The mindset is a part of that process. It is ever-increasing in severity. Today is Wednesday and right out of the gate I am already fucked up. I hope the feelings of desperation don’t take over and ruin the day so early. I hate that kind of thing. Again, and like yesterday, certain specific terms have been left out of this crap. That is for my own protection. Trust me, some of what is going through my head this morning is very bad. I don’t know if there is anything I can do about this, such as making the days go by more smoothly or avoiding those deep pitfalls that seem to remain in whatever path I decide to take. The girl, for example, causes all manner of elicit scenes to play out inside me. Over and over I see her and me together, which for all intents and purposes is completely impossible. Well, there could be a possibility, yet the circumstances are such that the likelihood is so slim that it may as well not even exist. I should say ‘improbable’. There are other reasons besides the obvious, too. Needs that I’ve laid out here enough already. The fact is that throughout the past two-plus years, the mindset has formed and continues to increase in severity every time I see her or think of a few others from the past. There is some sense of security involved when I daydream about her, yet I probably can’t adequately explain why. The idea goes all the way back to the early part of the eighties. In any case, not a morning passes by without finding me yearning to see her, and much more. The mindset has taken over a portion of my brainpower and I probably can’t ever get it back. Much of what I need to say here is missing. There is a good reason. No one would understand, either, and that fact is not the main problem. The trouble with growing into thinking this way is that my level of desperation increases alongside – and likely even with – the mindset, and the key result is realizing that happiness cannot be achieved outside the scope of my needs, skewed and deviant as they have become. Not good. The girl is just one aspect because I see her eyes from time to time and end up wishing she would hold me. The rest? Worse. Years of it. Hence? Losing my way at some point each and even morning, sometimes in the worst way and other times not as bad. I fucking hate it, but what can I do? No one knows what is going on. The visceral need I feel when I see her or other examples of such a unique appearance is part of a mindset I have not laid out here. Yes, I’ve stated on occasion that I need ‘someone’ to hold me and tell me everything will be ok. That’s part of it, but the detailed information and files inside my head must remain out of the public eye. The insidious nature of the mindset that is taking over can’t be discussed here or anywhere else. I know this will continue; I know I’ll run across something every fucking day that will hurt and derail my ability to think. When I sit here with the first cup of coffee, part of me is pleased to have the quiet time. The other part already knows everything will turn to shit soon enough. That other fucking essay is beginning to grab hold of my consciousness. I’ll have to push back if I am to come out the other side of the morning intact. Sometimes I can’t get that stuff out of my head no matter what may be taking place. There are too many memories. I have yet to learn how to compartmentalize them to the point of actually clearing my mind at times. It seems the tiniest aspect of something on the television or outside my window is enough to shove everything aside and fill my head with the essay again. After that, I may as well simply give up because I’ve lost the most important reasons for living as outlined in that fucking thing. I wish I could understand why the world must be this way. I can’t even remember certain parts of the past. No, not pictures. Feelings are the problem. I can’t fucking remember and the loss is killing me. I don’t want to be forced to return to that entry and ponder what can be said. The process always leaves me heartbroken and angry. This morning I already have enough negativity and loss in my head. Adding more to the pile could tip me a little bit too far. I shall stay away from that writing for a while. Yesterday the heat became overwhelming and I ended up taking it easy for the duration. So far this morning, the mercury is much lower and the house is cool. I can only hope the interior doesn’t warm as much as last night. Without insulation or a decent breeze, once the house heats, there is little I can do to exchange the outside air with that of the interior space. The evening ends up cool but the house remains pretty warm. By the time I dropped into bed, the temperature was just under 80. Ugh. An entire night is required to allow the house to cool off. The positive is that my day is completely open to whatever I wish to accomplish. Or? Nothing at all. Eh... This is the episode that contains a scene in which a film is being shot. I always find it a bit interesting even if the general consensus of this episode is fairly negative. People seem to lose the big picture sometimes, and the story is advanced in a few key ways despite some of the scenes not appearing to fit very well on the surface. None of that matters. Repeat viewings can educate at times, but people are fucking ridiculous. Anyway, all gangster business aside, today is underway and I’ll have to figure out how to proceed very soon. I’ve already become very down and lost my way a little while ago. I need to get it back if I expect to feel okay (at best) this evening. The weather will probably dictate how much I accomplish. We are in the month of October, meaning eventually the heat will disappear for the season. That’s good. I need to extricate the insidious mindset, as well. Heat aside, my brain must be clear enough in operation for me to live like an actual person rather than some malfunctioning machine. Some days I just don’t know how to do it. Almost never, to be honest. Wonderful. The mindset and dreams come to the forefront too often for me to simply ignore them or ‘turn off’ the feelings. Both lead to loss. Both make me sad and angry. Nothing seems to help me find true solutions, or even distractions at times. The nature of what I’ve been thinking is far too powerful for anything so simple to actually help for a decent amount of time. I am still trying to reconcile the damaging dreams (though I have a good idea of the reason my subconscious sent so much desire in that direction) and each day I sit here lost in a sea of potential words that never seem to answer any questions aside from the obvious. I can’t spell that out here, unfortunately. I’d end up in hot water. The idea of why my brain created those dreams in the first place is something that would also land me in the same water, so anything I try to describe here will have to rely upon what I’ve written in the past, such as the two shit situations and their lasting effects upon my ability to live life each day free of pain. I can’t turn this crap off, ever. If that means I never learned coping skills, go fuck yourself. Not everyone can follow some therapeutic lessons and actually succeed. I’ve tried, and still I remain almost completely miserable. I no longer believe the ability to cope is necessarily a ‘skill’, either. It is a reaction; a chosen path for some and a last-ditch effort for others. As I said, that is a belief. I don’t have enough knowledge about other people to create a fucking pie chart. All I can do is express how I feel about everything. The tsunami warning system is being tested right now. Wow, those sirens are powerful. A little time has passed and I switched from coffee to whiskey, as is the norm these days. The weather is warming, although not as quickly as yesterday. Hopefully, this evening will be more comfortable than last night. Whatever the case, I’ll probably refrain from anything physical aside from the laundry that is now running. Saundra with her big, beautiful eyes is on the screen right now. Oy. Damn, that woman was so beautiful throughout this series that sometimes I just have to stare. Anyway, my head has been filled with shit all morning – meaning feelings of loss and desire – yet I’ve been able to remain a bit more ‘up’ than during the last several months. I am trying to avoid letting that crap get the best of me and derail my efforts around the house. I’ve made too much progress to be stifled by things I can no longer have or places I can no longer inhabit. Does that mean I am willing to accept the two shit situations and move forward? Nope. Not even close. The issue is not acceptance, it is as simple as the ability to put everything aside for a little while so I can ensure this household functions properly, which is my primary responsibility these days. Acceptance is just not going to happen. Much like progress and society’s view of ‘norms’ and such, there is just no fucking way I can take that switch from the main line. No. I’ve been fucked over far too much for any reconciliation. Thankfully (for them, anyway), those responsible for the shit situations are two-for-three. Only one is still living. As long as I can continue to function from one day to the next and care for the house, the bad shit will wait until there is time for me to sit here and carry on trying to understand the details of the way my mind operates. Not easy. Not a bit. I am so fucked in the head these days that sometimes I feel I am worsening faster than I can come close to answering even one damned question. My head is about as skewed as possible. The remainder of this morning and the early afternoon will be dedicated to laundry business and some light organization. Well, those will happen once my cocktail is consumed. There is no other way for me to live anymore. More time has passed and the laundry has been completed. There are a few items drying on the rack in my garage. I also took care of the kitchen. Warm weather usually means lunch or dinner can be simple in order to avoid firing up the cooktop or oven, so food is going to be delivered very soon. The rest of the day is wide-open for whatever seems best, or anything that can be done without overheating myself. After lunch, the temperature will be continuing its rise, so not much else will be completed. Eh, I don’t really care anyway. There is always plenty of time for housework and I don’t have a fixed schedule like in the past. I was never very happy about being left with a finite amount of time to take care of things around the house. Now that there are other pressing matters in my head that did not exist a few years ago, any free time is welcomed. This entry is rather stupid. I can’t really talk about the important details so I sit here and dance around the real problems with nary a word toward clarity. Splendid. At least I own the space. Better than nothing. And now there is Paulie’s girlfriend who is a representation of something otherworldly, wonderful, and stirring. If only. Every time this particular episode comes around, I go back in time to when my life was much more comfortable. After that, Ashley and her unique mindset drifts into my consciousness and leaves me considering the one on the screen in the most dynamic, dramatic terms. Eh... Derailed by the past again. Not his girlfriend; she is just a tiny reminder that the pieces that have been removed from inside me may never return. Not her fault. Others are responsible. All memories and cute faces aside, the rest of the day will be slow. No big deal. I need to get out of this office for a while. Thursday is sans significance. None. Just a day, this one. Coffee; the usual around me. Ashley is in my brain again because where I left off with the episode yesterday is exactly where it started this morning... Paulie’s girlfriend and her sweet nature. Marvelous. When Ashley ends up swirling around the inside of my head, all sorts of relational analyses begin to take place, such as being overly exposed to the gaming culture during my formative years, and then much later when I began to realize that the more difficult parts of life had become easy, along with quite the reverse. I didn’t understand and am now so detached from any of those places I need to be that I am frankly surprised to function at all most days. Yes, I leveraged and forced the issue at times in order to keep myself as comfortable as possible and away from danger (or fearful situations). I really did. Leveraged and forced, those were all me some years ago. I knew precisely how to deal with people in such a manner so as to garner what I needed and placate them at the same time. Manipulation? Yes, there was some of that, but I am nowhere near the only one who embraced that type of shit. Less so, to be honest. Between the culture in Vegas, Tahoe and Reno, my mind had formed a way of life that was not only very difficult to achieve, but rather risky if I was to maintain real relationships with people. Every single occasion that found me in those places as an adult ended up reinforcing a way of viewing others that eventually began to hinder my ability to be personable without straining to do so. I had to stretch myself quite a bit at each connection or conversation because I had a hell of a time caring about whatever I was being told. My level of concern for people in general slid down a hill for many years until finally pushing me to make a list of the most important individuals as I completely disregarded the rest. I had to close everything off in order to try to live the way I so badly needed. The mindset that is ever-growing inside me came about due to a combination of the shit situations, the gaming culture and the machinelike, very sex-laden nature of the way it operated in the 70s and 80s, and the subtle influence of Ashley and a few other specific individuals. Even the Raven and I discussed the need to force everything to bend with reckless disregard for the purpose of being where one felt the most comfortable and secure in life. Yep, She did that on more than one occasion. Everything has combined to create the most insidious way of thinking that I have ever experienced, and the truth is the condition is growing every fucking day. I have made decisions that led to part of this, but the rest is the direct result of being treated the way people felt I should, a practice that fucking continues to this very second. Well, if the mindset grows beyond my ability to control the aftereffects, I’ll have to create an object lesson – I’ve tossed out a few small ones in recent years but everything quickly fades away with time – that people will not soon forget. This is growing and not entirely up to me. The more I am disregarded or the like, the further off-center my thinking becomes. Ashley said it best and changed my perception of the way people treat each other. The Raven’s viewpoint was often even worse. I am the product of so much that I can barely make a list without deep research. Yes... The scene within the program I’m watching pointed my head in the direction of loss, and then I ran with why there are parts of me missing. Only twice have those voids been temporarily filled. Twice in more than thirty years. The show on the right-hand display will roll around like it always does when I switch the rotation. I’ll see her again in that scene, consider the worsening effect of this mindset as it grew between viewings, and then sit here and state all this shit again soon enough. At least I’ve finally lumped a lot of things together that used to seem like separate issues. Now? One huge problem in my head that influences every fucking thing I do every fucking day. Once I make it through the hours and into the late evening, I think of the very quiet, comfortable morning with coffee while wondering if it will be the last time I am willing to live this way. Sometimes I want to wipe out certain causes. Completely. Other times? I let everything fade to the rear. I will see that girl again on the display and hear her words. And then? I’ll fall down and wish everything could be different. And then? Nothing will happen. And then? I’ll travel back in time and listen to Ashley. All I have left are memories. No future whatsoever. Well, if you consider what I have become, there is a future. I am a utility who takes care of other people’s problems. I can continue in such a vein because their needs never seem to end, whereas mine increase almost constantly and I almost lose my fucking mind several times every day. I can continue to do what others need because my programming is very nearly complete. Isn’t that splendid? Programmed. Years ago I wanted a machine. The situation has taken quite the fucking u-turn, eh? My future is emptiness; work for them; yearning; loss. Their futures are full of help. I didn’t even mention the damaging dreams and the way they altered the way I think and see the world, possibly for all time. Not a word in that long paragraph called to those dreams and the pain I feel inside due to their existence. A door to a hidden part of my brain was opened during that period and has remained as such for more than two years. It’s been driving me crazy long enough for me to believe none of that shit will ever go away. The dreams changed me and I don’t see a way back. Moreover, the insidious mindset has been affected to the point of often combining with those fucking dreams and leaving me to believe that I can’t be around other people for very long before descending downward and into places I can’t discuss here or anywhere else. The combination has created scenes and other thought patterns that I can’t even reveal to a fucking therapist, believe it or not. It’s bad; I don’t like this at all. Go back up the page and see the causes. The manner in which I view people and the way I think about their lives has become distorted to the point of creating some sort of wall around me that cannot allow any information to escape. I am skewed in the extreme. I often find myself asking questions to myself regarding people that should never be spoken out loud. Some of the fictional television I’ve watched in the past comes to mind and I end up creating little scenes in my head that similarly can’t be spoken out loud. I can’t share any of it with another human being because the result would undoubtedly be very negative. My paragraphs are running amok these days. I can’t follow a straight line most of the time. Sorry. The last of the coffee is next to me. My head is having trouble pulling itself from the past; memories of being precisely where I wanted and needed. Those occasions are few, unfortunately, and the sparing nature of such beautiful places and situations has caused my way of thinking to become even more skewed than in the above thoughts. My mind is awash this morning and all the effort in the world will be required if I am to come out the other side of this day intact. Early this afternoon we are to visit a very unique restaurant down the coast (I’ve been there before; last year perhaps) and I don’t need the past following along and causing me to ‘wonder’ about people I see. Rarely am I in a restaurant these days. I mostly remain here as often as possible, but when it comes to a birthday, I have to bow to the wishes of others. I simply cannot have daydreams of the past swirling inside me while out of the house, especially considering the possibility of something special grabbing my attention. I just can’t fucking have it. I need an isolated section of time to be nice and accommodating rather than falling into a pit again. I am already pretty fucked up this morning. Memories of my formative years have combined with those extremely rare occasions when I believed certain aspects of life would always exist for me regardless of the passage of time. Well, I was fucking wrong. I don’t need this level of thinking right now. There is already plenty inside that is driving me crazy, such as all that shit that was generated by seeing Paulie’s girlfriend again. Marvelous. I am surrounded daily by items that have the ability to distract me from reality for a little while. I have this machine and the laptop (should I move to the garage while writing), my huge camera setup, the endless truck project, my home theatre system, and a few other little things here and there that can sometimes put a smile on my face. Distraction; that is all. Everything comes back, and sometimes very quickly and with tons of force when I am exposed to a woman that generates either memories, desire or both at the same time. Not good. The items all around me cannot solve problems or substitute for things I really need. All they can do is help me get through a certain short period of time before everything goes all to hell again. The mindset is insidious and there is nothing I can do about it. Each day is worse than the last with regard to the way I think about people. At some point I am going to move away from this ill-found analysis and take care of the daily routine. Right now the house is very quiet and I’ve been trying to take advantage of the peaceful nature of the office. Inanimate objects pay no mind; the media continues to roll along on the right-hand display. Nothing changes here, ever. Sometimes I break out and move things around to better organize this room, although those times when I find the motivation are few and far between. There are days when I actually consider having so much time as being detrimental to my emotional condition. The truth is I would most likely be worse off had I not left the workforce. I was exposed to far too much beauty while traveling through the City and other places – often within the job sites – and had very little time to analyze my feelings. I suppose too much time can be bad for me in some ways, however. Too much thinking, and such. Maybe, anyway. The certainties related to my daily life are few these days. Most seem to be toward the negative manner in which I think and the damaging results from being exposed to beauty on occasion. There is one on the display right now, in fact, and no sooner did I see her for the millionth time when my brain began to manufacture impossible, beautiful situations between her and me. Splendid. There is no way out of this shit. Ok, I rose and worked on the routine. Now that it is finished, I can focus upon other matters, such as considering the restaurant trip this afternoon. I am not pleased about going, but once seated at the bar I’ll feel more comfortable, just like last time. Leaving there and returning home will be completely different. While cleaning the kitchen, I was trying to consider some older words related to the oft-repeated phrase, ‘this is a bad time’. The conclusion is that I have changed so much throughout the last several years that I could never be good for another person. That is to say I know myself too well to believe that any connection could be toward the positive. No fucking way. I am so fucked up these days that outside writing, having a few drinks or eating something agreeable, my life amounts to exactly nothing. There are three main characteristics that I have gleaned over the years which are almost universally regarded as very desirable in a love interest. They are confidence, humor, and ambition, be it with work or simply life itself. Well, I no longer possess two, although my level of humor is often considered quite high when others have spoken of me. That’s better than nothing, but a lack of confidence is so detrimental to a person’s outward appearance and stance in life that no amount of ‘funny’ can fucking offset such a huge negative. In short, I’ve lost parts of me that will not cease moving away at a high rate of speed. The only positive traits remaining inside me are kindness and consideration. Those are just fine. I help others constantly and am very generous with my time and resources. I don’t know why, but that’s the way I developed. Unfortunately, without the aforementioned traits, any closeness would be met with a distinct lack of balance on my part. The need has become too great. I can’t be good for anyone in the grand scheme. Others have carte blanche; I have a keyboard. Is that self-pity? Nope. I do not pity myself because some of the changes over the years are my fucking fault. I know what I've become. Blah... Blah... Blah, stickitupyourasscakes. I should have let Her do whatever She wished. Never mind. It’s just... If I am going to be completely fucking miserable, perhaps my past decisions should have gone in another direction. Just saying. Eh... ‘Fuck it. Let’s all have a drink.’ Thank you, Silvio. The Raven was 23 years old when we met; I was 48. When Ashley and I spent those few days together, our ages were 21 and 36. She was THAT much younger than myself. Unbelievable. I still don’t know the reason, but the Raven latched on to me deeply and very quickly. She appreciate the way my mind worked, fucked up as it was, and expressed to me often that there were aspects of society and living which She viewed almost exactly the same. With Ashley, there was one very important belief in her pretty head that went completely outside the lines to someone such as myself. I could not understand how she felt at such a young age. She wrapped herself around me in more ways than one and did not often let go, whereas the Raven was wrapped for several months. I still can’t comprehend what either of them saw outside the scope of my relationship with Ashley being driven partially by my plan to end my life in Vegas. Little did I know while spending time with the Raven, but She was on the same type of path. We were dangerous while together. Any long-term considerations were quite literally impossible. The same went for Ashley because one of her main concerns was to push me into returning home and living on, good or bad as such a plan may have turned out in the long run. A long-term relationship with either of those amazing souls was not an option. No fucking way. The Raven and I discussed the idea on many occasions and the conversation always pointed in the same direction: ‘Let’s enjoy ourselves without thinking beyond the moment.’ Does that sound familiar? Well, it may not because I pulled all of the stories involving Andrea. We literally lived from one hour to the next with zero interest in any type of end or separation. The damage was incoming, for sure, and since we both knew as much, the idea was to ignore everything in the world and deal with the consequences at a later time. Going back in time more than nine years and considering what has taken place in the meantime is telling me that I should have done things differently when I had the chance. That is a huge regret. I did not know that years later I’d end up as I am right now. I should have killed myself after Ashley left the hotel. I should have killed myself right after the Raven did the same. The horrible cave period found me considering such an act hourly, and every fucking day. Much could have been avoided had I followed through back then. Now I can’t because I have a few key individuals that count on me each day and I have yet to feel strongly enough to destroy them. I don’t have any idea of why I brought up the age differences aside from a lack of understanding as to why those two beautiful women clung to me. One additional reason that I am still alive is that I have never considered myself a wastrel. That kind of positive can't be ignored. I have wasted years, but that's different. It really is. I feel so fragile right now. Even the morning cocktail is barely helping to balance thoughts and calm my head. That is rare. I can’t lose this crutch because there are not many others these days. Oksana’s lingerie in this scene is not even remotely attractive. Just saying. For such a stunningly beautiful woman, the costume department should have done better. She is something to see, believe me. To employ an aphorism, I have never felt any semblance of having ‘amounted’ to much. While I have gone on at length regarding all of the negatives thrown at me by other people, I can’t dismiss the fact that I’ve fucked up plenty in life with zero help. The insidious mindset is a byproduct of both, unfortunately, and something that is here to stay. The alcohol’s numbing effects can be felt by yours truly right now, but I need not be lubricated to admit my own failures. That right there is the primary reason other people cannot get through the shit around me, be it via conversation or otherwise. I can railroad the best of them even while being stone fucking sober. I know full well that I have limited myself over and over throughout the years, and will not lean all that shit on the pillar of the two situations that played out more than forty years ago. I can’t know the entire truth because the past has faded too much, but I will say that no matter how many times I bring up the shit situations and their continuing effects, there have been periods when I was wholly responsible for some pretty stupid fucking decisions. My efforts here are going to become truncated in the future, which is to say the process of mincing words shall soon go the way of the dodo bird. As an aside, the career opportunity that came about in 2012 was a fucking HUGE turning point in my life. My decision to make an enormous life change turned into a very reckless period – all the trips to Vegas and elsewhere which chewed my liquid resources down to nearly nothing – and the financial aspect of that time had a negative effect upon the application process because the employer was a government contractor. That would have been my last career. I was quite literally a shoe-in. After being interviewed for a short time, the person in charge opened the conversation by stating that I would ‘enjoy working there’. Had it not been for my stupid fucking lifestyle that led up to that day, life from then forward would have most likely gone very differently. Marvelous. See? I’ve taken responsibility for being sidestepped by the company. My fault. One hundred percent. Throughout the ensuing years, and though I did work for the same employer for nearly a decade, at no point did I see myself as having accomplished much. The insidious mindset had an easy time taking over. Need soon outweighed everything else. Friday morning is here regardless of how I feel. Significance? None. The drive came and went with a minimum of frustration, and now I have all the time in the world to relax and take care of business. For whatever reason, I am very pleased to be here with an open schedule. This is the same as any other day of the week when I drive to the City, but the feelings are different right now. I don’t understand. I’ll take it, though. I’ll take any fucking positive that comes my way, especially after what took place last night... Ooh-fa; squished again. There was a short discussion regarding an episode of a program I’ve been following, mostly about the manner in which a few key characters had been written. After a few minutes of trying to make a very simple, coherent point, a realization hit me in the face. I announced that I ‘finally got it’ and then clammed up for the remainder of the evening. Throughout the next episode, I did not utter a single fucking word. And what was the realization? Something that is helping the mindset to become solidified over time. I was fairly angry at first, yet the process of calming myself ended up quick and easy. I had to think a little bit. I finally concluded after decades of observation, research and analysis that unless I am asked a technical question (and sometimes even in such cases) quite directly, no one is interested in anything I have to say. The direct evidence came about because I actually employed logic to follow a conversation within the program and laid out said evidence prior to anything being discussed. And then? Squished for the billionth time. Well, that was too much and now my stance has changed yet again. If I continue to roll over and allow myself to be routed and squished, the process will never change, nor will other people understand the weight of what they have caused. Now is the time, after so many years, for me to alter the way I deal with them. This is a very simple change and the type of which I will have to remain mindful nearly all of the time. While alone, I see little difficulty with such a process. The point has to be made while accompanied by just enough discomfort for those fucking people to feel if I am to succeed in actually forcing them to hear what I am saying. We shall see very soon if my plan works. I will also volunteer the idea that though there is an insidious mindset within me, others have something just as dangerous. They don’t even fucking know what it is, either. Marvelous. It’s time to do whatever I want. Today should prove to be both relaxing and enjoyable. All I have to do is avoid becoming too angry over this shit. I am so fucking sick of people that I can barely see straight at times. This is a bad time. I need to make the best of it, though. I have little else keeping me going. At least the weather has cooled quite a bit over the past few days. Tuesday was damned hot. This morning the temperature is resting comfortably in the 60s. Not bad. If I can get my head out of the din, the day should prove to be better than yesterday. And speaking of Thursday, the trip to the distillery for a late lunch went quite well. The weather was nice, food was excellent, and as usual their cocktails were beyond reproach. Returning home felt pretty good. Well, until evening when the fucking squish ruined everything. Hence the ‘bad time’ statement being repeated. If I can just remain fairly balanced throughout the day and enjoy my free time, dealing with any concerns during the evening could be easier than last night. I just have to remember to stay the course when interacting with other people. That’s the toughest aspect of this fucked up mood. Housework will come and go very quickly today, leaving my time wide open. Earlier I had mentioned the importance of free time along with possible pitfalls. Today is helping me see the major upside. I need it. I have to reconcile everything – as catalyzed by what took place yesterday – and calculate the best way for me to deal with people. Tomorrow will be one-up from today in that I need not drive at all. The entire duration will be all mine. I need that, too. I am tired of bringing up those problems. Nothing seems to change when it comes to the way others view or treat me, and that leaves just one option. I need to alter everything and leverage them in such a way so as to clearly communicate that too much has happened and they are subsequently responsible for whatever I become as a result. And yes, all that shit from many years ago is still in my head. That means those near me at present may receive a blast of shit that they did not actually cause in the first place. Some, but not all. Being unpleasant is a process that typically results in others being standoffish, and that is just what I want right now. After decades of being a very nice, helpful person, heading in the opposite direction with regard to certain situations is not easy, nor is it something casual. I have to be very careful to put them at just enough distance to remain present rather than completely disregarded. This is why I need the fucking time to think and plan. The mindset analysis has been partially interrupted but will return very soon. Nothing ever goes away. I have to get the hell away from the IDE for a while. This shit is going nowhere, although there have been a few decent points. The trouble is that lately my head changes directions both quickly and easily, leaving me with an uphill battle when trying to articulate my thoughts. It seems that whenever I try to describe what is in my brain, the topic ends up being switched due to a different incident, and then I can’t go back and locate the initial line of thinking. Last night fucked me up again and I nearly lost the entire shitare, meaning the insidious mindset became heavily challenged, as did my efforts in relaying its importance through the keyboard. I will cease this crap and do a bit of housework, all the while remaining mindful of what I am trying to accomplish when it comes to dealing with people. Not good." Copyright ©2002-2024 comainterrupted.com All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Created by Brandywine Engineering using Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 and .NET Framework 4.8 Questions? Comments? Anything? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the psychos in charge
An Insidious Mindset Mature content No. 426 Published October 4th, 2024 10:31am pdt read ( words) Past entries "I switched browsers and there have been zero issues with glitching while streaming MAX. I used to have an aversion to MS browsers for reasons I will not outline here, but switched just to see if the problem followed. It did not. Right out of the fucking gate, I mention the glitching issue because it’s very important to me. Now there is no interference with other windows or tabs as my shows play on the right-hand monitor. Not bad. And? Just after publishing the previous essay, I ventured to the map and found the exact location where I saw Jaime. The EXACT location within Balboa Park. That is another clue as to just how fucked up I’ve become over the years. Isn’t that splendid? Basket case. The basement is coming. The basement may be the only place where I can be safe. Isolation; quiet; space to explore the damaging dreams and that horrible change from two years ago. That fucking thing reared its ugly head at the festival, and I am not referring to the six-footer. This is something else entirely. Not good. As for the images of Jaime, well... I am in love with her. That is fucking ridiculous. I captured her in April of 2010 prior to everything turning to shit. Fourteen years later, I’ve become obsessed with the images and must see them every day. She makes the video playback issue disappear very quickly. Everything else, too. I do not know what to do about this shit. I don’t mention her that much anymore because I realize how fucking stupid it all sounds and wish to minimize possible backlash. Monday. I can’t get Jaime out of my head. Perhaps ‘I’ to ‘we’ can help a bit... Oh, boy... The inside is all fucked up, but we know. We know everything as the feelings and situations have evolved over the years. Most recently, we’ve referred to just over two years ago when a switch flipped inside and we made the ill-found decision to consider certain very specific aspects of people differently than in the past, afterward crafting elaborate scenes inside with nary a chance to analyze any of it. Everything must remain status quo or we are fucking finished. ‘Woe is us’. Let us go back in time to compare the current era to more than ten years ago while we were mired in daily work... ‘I did this to myself, but that action – or series of actions - had nothing to do with this place. I was elsewhere, both physically and emotionally. No one in this place had a breath or thought of me. They had no idea what was going on because of the distance. There was no possibility of that. What I should have done was leave, remain quiet and closed off, and wallow as I have done for so many years. Jesus fucking Christ why did I not? Am I that inane? Yes, absolutely. Enough that I knew not the consequences of my backward thoughts. Backward plans. Backward actions. Just fucking backward. Counter-productive to the last. That is me. I sit, sleep, eat, drink, work, drive, think, think, think... All of which, when taken as a whole, becomes for naught. The work pays for things (not worth it), and the rest have been unnecessary from the start. The whole of it all has taken me for a hellish ride. And it continues.’ We had few options back then with regard to daily life. 'I', again. I've brought up that text before because it was a defining period of the modern era. I still feel the same way, as well. Only the 'work' differs. Morning time is always nice and quiet. Today is no different. There is a birthday dinner later this afternoon, and just as the past couple of years, I am the salad maker. One is already finished, the other shall wait until later. I need to let the components chill before they can be processed and mixed. One rub this morning is the fact that there is a massive cellular outage that seems to span from coast to coast in this country. Verizon has been out since I sat here nearly three hours ago. My phone is displaying ‘SOS’ the entire time – I still have the thing connected via the wireless network in the house, but calls and texts are down – and after a bit of investigating, the issue is very widespread. I wonder what the hell happened that could affect so many areas. Is there something wrong with a satellite? I have been checking the news from time to time but as of yet, nothing significant. I am seeing tons of reports on the outage but no cause. Very interesting. There have been a ton of people reporting the outage on DownDetector, to the tune of over 100k in three hours. Wow. Anyway, my coffee is gone so I’ll probably take care of the daily routine soon. I need to keep the house quiet for the time being. I will be heading to the north end of town in about four hours. If I can extricate Jaime from my brain, the day may progress better than it has thus far. Ugh. I love her. Hmm... The problem could not be just one satellite because I believe they are in geosynchronous orbit over various parts of the globe. One satellite can’t cover from one coast to the other. I don’t think so, anyway. I’ll have to seek some information. I finished the routine and poured a nice cocktail, and after 11am the outage still continues unimpeded. Very interesting. At least nothing has affected the garbage trucks. Heh. One funny aspect of those trucks is the fact that despite some of them having failed backup alarms – they just buzz and sound ridiculous – rather than replacing the faulty units, the company added new ones. Now they make two sounds at the same time. Silly. I am not a person who needs the phone for business or anything pressing, so having it connected to the wireless network at least allows me to access the Internet if needed. Lots of people are in some real pretty shit without the phone service. I feel for them. Like the man said, ‘May you live in interesting times’. Sometimes ‘interesting’ causes huge problems. I still have to make the second salad but don’t give a shit yet. I’ll get to it in a little while, I suppose. The process is simple. Isn’t this entry fascinating? Raise one eyebrow. Oh... Shit. I just refreshed the news feed regarding the cellular outage and now three carriers are having problems. Unbelievable. I don’t mean to propagate rumors, but could this be intentional? I hope not. I’m sure the general public will be in the dark even after everything is restored. We seldom receive accurate information and have a difficult time knowing for sure one way or the other. The main topic has been absent as of yet. Big fucking surprise. And? Holy God is Jamie ever something to see. She is so beautiful that the idea of smashing my head to pieces comes to mind quite often these days. God fucking damn it anyway, why do I have to feel this way? Am I experiencing fictophilia? The possibility is not very far off the mark. If so, it is an insidious mindset. One of two, actually. There you go. I am completely fucked in the head. Is there any significance to Tuesday? Nope. Coffee. Gangsters. Depression. The drive was quite slow this morning, although there will be no more of that crap for three days. Nice. No beauty; no worries. Slow traffic is the norm on weekdays. Last night I was up later than usual due to a small gathering next door after visiting the bar post-dinner. The place was very mellow and for a change I was not terribly uncomfortable. Next door was nothing, really. A little bit of conversation. Being up later than the norm has become increasingly difficult throughout the last few years. I notice more and more often that I end up wishing I’d left myself out of certain affairs. Oh, well... Not a big deal. At least I have an overage of free time these days. Rarely is anything very difficult because I can always relax and consider my options. The real trouble is when my head travels sideways in the morning. Such situations disallow any creative writing and hinder my efforts at inner exploration. This is one such morning, too. The shit went sideways quickly, but I recovered. The past will not let go of my fucking feet when I try to walk forward in life. Damn. The clock is creeping along rather than spinning out of control. This is good. The routine will be very quick and I will end up with all the time in the world to do whatever seems best. Not bad. The film industry is trying to creep in again. I’ll have to keep that shit pushed back for the time being. Andrea and Ashley, too, mostly due to those names popping back into my head via media and whatnot. Sometimes there is an inordinate amount of reminders floating near me and it drives me nuts. The six-foot woman from last weekend, for example, had me daydreaming about the fact that Ashley was so fucking tall and the other one was just one inch shorter. Even the Raven stood five-seven despite being so slender. Between the tall woman at the festival and being reminded of those names, I am surprised to have avoided gushing all over the place like I used to while writing those stories. Being reminded of Andrea is tough because we were in our own world for weeks; a world we created in order to escape the shackles of real life. She just happened to come along when my willingness to shove everything to the rear and flip the fuck out for a while was at an all-time high. In 2003 when I ran away and ended up meeting both Juliette and Ashley, I had only thought I was being reckless. There were still connections, though. The true freedom was being with Andrea. Thanks to that super-tall woman from the other day for bringing me back in time and imagining actually looking up at Andrea when she wore her booties. Holy shit. Maybe the film industry is a safer draw right now. Ooh-fa... The temperature outside is ramping up damned fast. Early this morning when I was preparing for the drive, the house was very cool – right close to 67 – and I walked outside to feel 77. Now? The garage is 91 prior to noon and the forecast calls for a high of 96 by 4pm. Jesus. At least the wind is blowing right now. That helps. There will be no cooking tonight, though. I can’t heat the kitchen and then enjoy some hot food because there is no insulation in the walls or attic of this little cracker box (yet) and the mercury will continue to rise indoors and then fall flat at some point this evening. Holy moly is it ever hot outside, especially in the sun. I wasn’t expecting this shit today, but now that I know, my activities will be adjusted accordingly. Had we taken the trip to Thousand Oaks this morning, the current position would be somewhere down interstate 5 in even more heat. Yes, my car has one hell of an air conditioning system, but still... Exiting the car in 100-degree heat is never fun when the interior is held at 68 by yours truly. Again, ‘may you live in interesting times’. No shit. I took care of the quick routine, and now I can relax for the remainder of the day. High temperatures slow me way the fuck down every time. On the upside, the heat will distract me from problems. Later. The mindset is still apparent. I have the house to myself for the next several hours, too. That’s good. Having the time and space to think clearly is something for which I dreamed for years while working full-time. There were days when my mind was going a million miles an hour and I couldn’t do anything about it. I tried to record my thoughts in the cloud as often as possible, but there was never enough time. I was distracted. The situation was analogous to lying in bed at night and ‘writing’ some thoughts, only to fall asleep and forget it all by morning. Not good. Today is a prime example of the gradient between the years I worked and those that have found me with more than enough quiet time to explore. If I could understand the reasoning behind such an insidious mindset, everything would move along much better. After more than two years, I still don’t get it. Part of the change is understandable, to be honest, yet not a day goes by without me dreaming of things better left alone. All of the related keywords have to be left out of this content, meaning no one is going to follow along. Is that important? Yes, mostly because a small part of me is still open to external connections with regard to my mental health. The information is very fucking subjective and quite the anathema which doesn’t help matters at all. Any potential connection would create so much fear inside me that the possibility of help could die before ever seeing the light of day. At least I have all this time at my disposal. Better than nothing. Ah... There is Oksana and her five-eight stance and stunning gait. What I wouldn’t give... Eh, never mind. The first scene of decent length involving her character is related to everything that pains me on a given day. No, she is not the problem. There is something else. Ugh. Oksana is unrelated to the insidious thinking in which I engage during nearly every waking moment. She is a person. And what am I? No idea. Wednesday. Significance? Nope. Coffee is about all there is thus far. The nature of the way I think slammed me as soon as I poured the drink and headed into this office a little while ago. A girl popped into my head and is now stuck right behind my eyes. I’ve seen her on occasion – usually when least expecting someone so picturesque on the sidewalk – and I pretty much lose my sense of direction for a while because of what goes through my mind. The feelings have been increasing, as well, and I seem to have become more focused than in the past. The way I view people these days is a direct result of the insidious mindset, and that, in turn, was born of two factors; fear and desperation. This was bound to happen at some point. Seeing her represents the change that took place a couple of years ago, as well. That one is still partly a mystery, although there are clues from my own past that have informed me of ideas of how I turned out this way. And yes, part of that shit is fear. Much of the way I live my life these days is driven by fear, meaning anything related to the past and driving me toward worry is not surprising. It’s almost like I expect something to hurt and bring me down every time I sit here to think. The mindset is a part of that process. It is ever-increasing in severity. Today is Wednesday and right out of the gate I am already fucked up. I hope the feelings of desperation don’t take over and ruin the day so early. I hate that kind of thing. Again, and like yesterday, certain specific terms have been left out of this crap. That is for my own protection. Trust me, some of what is going through my head this morning is very bad. I don’t know if there is anything I can do about this, such as making the days go by more smoothly or avoiding those deep pitfalls that seem to remain in whatever path I decide to take. The girl, for example, causes all manner of elicit scenes to play out inside me. Over and over I see her and me together, which for all intents and purposes is completely impossible. Well, there could be a possibility, yet the circumstances are such that the likelihood is so slim that it may as well not even exist. I should say ‘improbable’. There are other reasons besides the obvious, too. Needs that I’ve laid out here enough already. The fact is that throughout the past two-plus years, the mindset has formed and continues to increase in severity every time I see her or think of a few others from the past. There is some sense of security involved when I daydream about her, yet I probably can’t adequately explain why. The idea goes all the way back to the early part of the eighties. In any case, not a morning passes by without finding me yearning to see her, and much more. The mindset has taken over a portion of my brainpower and I probably can’t ever get it back. Much of what I need to say here is missing. There is a good reason. No one would understand, either, and that fact is not the main problem. The trouble with growing into thinking this way is that my level of desperation increases alongside – and likely even with – the mindset, and the key result is realizing that happiness cannot be achieved outside the scope of my needs, skewed and deviant as they have become. Not good. The girl is just one aspect because I see her eyes from time to time and end up wishing she would hold me. The rest? Worse. Years of it. Hence? Losing my way at some point each and even morning, sometimes in the worst way and other times not as bad. I fucking hate it, but what can I do? No one knows what is going on. The visceral need I feel when I see her or other examples of such a unique appearance is part of a mindset I have not laid out here. Yes, I’ve stated on occasion that I need ‘someone’ to hold me and tell me everything will be ok. That’s part of it, but the detailed information and files inside my head must remain out of the public eye. The insidious nature of the mindset that is taking over can’t be discussed here or anywhere else. I know this will continue; I know I’ll run across something every fucking day that will hurt and derail my ability to think. When I sit here with the first cup of coffee, part of me is pleased to have the quiet time. The other part already knows everything will turn to shit soon enough. That other fucking essay is beginning to grab hold of my consciousness. I’ll have to push back if I am to come out the other side of the morning intact. Sometimes I can’t get that stuff out of my head no matter what may be taking place. There are too many memories. I have yet to learn how to compartmentalize them to the point of actually clearing my mind at times. It seems the tiniest aspect of something on the television or outside my window is enough to shove everything aside and fill my head with the essay again. After that, I may as well simply give up because I’ve lost the most important reasons for living as outlined in that fucking thing. I wish I could understand why the world must be this way. I can’t even remember certain parts of the past. No, not pictures. Feelings are the problem. I can’t fucking remember and the loss is killing me. I don’t want to be forced to return to that entry and ponder what can be said. The process always leaves me heartbroken and angry. This morning I already have enough negativity and loss in my head. Adding more to the pile could tip me a little bit too far. I shall stay away from that writing for a while. Yesterday the heat became overwhelming and I ended up taking it easy for the duration. So far this morning, the mercury is much lower and the house is cool. I can only hope the interior doesn’t warm as much as last night. Without insulation or a decent breeze, once the house heats, there is little I can do to exchange the outside air with that of the interior space. The evening ends up cool but the house remains pretty warm. By the time I dropped into bed, the temperature was just under 80. Ugh. An entire night is required to allow the house to cool off. The positive is that my day is completely open to whatever I wish to accomplish. Or? Nothing at all. Eh... This is the episode that contains a scene in which a film is being shot. I always find it a bit interesting even if the general consensus of this episode is fairly negative. People seem to lose the big picture sometimes, and the story is advanced in a few key ways despite some of the scenes not appearing to fit very well on the surface. None of that matters. Repeat viewings can educate at times, but people are fucking ridiculous. Anyway, all gangster business aside, today is underway and I’ll have to figure out how to proceed very soon. I’ve already become very down and lost my way a little while ago. I need to get it back if I expect to feel okay (at best) this evening. The weather will probably dictate how much I accomplish. We are in the month of October, meaning eventually the heat will disappear for the season. That’s good. I need to extricate the insidious mindset, as well. Heat aside, my brain must be clear enough in operation for me to live like an actual person rather than some malfunctioning machine. Some days I just don’t know how to do it. Almost never, to be honest. Wonderful. The mindset and dreams come to the forefront too often for me to simply ignore them or ‘turn off’ the feelings. Both lead to loss. Both make me sad and angry. Nothing seems to help me find true solutions, or even distractions at times. The nature of what I’ve been thinking is far too powerful for anything so simple to actually help for a decent amount of time. I am still trying to reconcile the damaging dreams (though I have a good idea of the reason my subconscious sent so much desire in that direction) and each day I sit here lost in a sea of potential words that never seem to answer any questions aside from the obvious. I can’t spell that out here, unfortunately. I’d end up in hot water. The idea of why my brain created those dreams in the first place is something that would also land me in the same water, so anything I try to describe here will have to rely upon what I’ve written in the past, such as the two shit situations and their lasting effects upon my ability to live life each day free of pain. I can’t turn this crap off, ever. If that means I never learned coping skills, go fuck yourself. Not everyone can follow some therapeutic lessons and actually succeed. I’ve tried, and still I remain almost completely miserable. I no longer believe the ability to cope is necessarily a ‘skill’, either. It is a reaction; a chosen path for some and a last-ditch effort for others. As I said, that is a belief. I don’t have enough knowledge about other people to create a fucking pie chart. All I can do is express how I feel about everything. The tsunami warning system is being tested right now. Wow, those sirens are powerful. A little time has passed and I switched from coffee to whiskey, as is the norm these days. The weather is warming, although not as quickly as yesterday. Hopefully, this evening will be more comfortable than last night. Whatever the case, I’ll probably refrain from anything physical aside from the laundry that is now running. Saundra with her big, beautiful eyes is on the screen right now. Oy. Damn, that woman was so beautiful throughout this series that sometimes I just have to stare. Anyway, my head has been filled with shit all morning – meaning feelings of loss and desire – yet I’ve been able to remain a bit more ‘up’ than during the last several months. I am trying to avoid letting that crap get the best of me and derail my efforts around the house. I’ve made too much progress to be stifled by things I can no longer have or places I can no longer inhabit. Does that mean I am willing to accept the two shit situations and move forward? Nope. Not even close. The issue is not acceptance, it is as simple as the ability to put everything aside for a little while so I can ensure this household functions properly, which is my primary responsibility these days. Acceptance is just not going to happen. Much like progress and society’s view of ‘norms’ and such, there is just no fucking way I can take that switch from the main line. No. I’ve been fucked over far too much for any reconciliation. Thankfully (for them, anyway), those responsible for the shit situations are two-for-three. Only one is still living. As long as I can continue to function from one day to the next and care for the house, the bad shit will wait until there is time for me to sit here and carry on trying to understand the details of the way my mind operates. Not easy. Not a bit. I am so fucked in the head these days that sometimes I feel I am worsening faster than I can come close to answering even one damned question. My head is about as skewed as possible. The remainder of this morning and the early afternoon will be dedicated to laundry business and some light organization. Well, those will happen once my cocktail is consumed. There is no other way for me to live anymore. More time has passed and the laundry has been completed. There are a few items drying on the rack in my garage. I also took care of the kitchen. Warm weather usually means lunch or dinner can be simple in order to avoid firing up the cooktop or oven, so food is going to be delivered very soon. The rest of the day is wide-open for whatever seems best, or anything that can be done without overheating myself. After lunch, the temperature will be continuing its rise, so not much else will be completed. Eh, I don’t really care anyway. There is always plenty of time for housework and I don’t have a fixed schedule like in the past. I was never very happy about being left with a finite amount of time to take care of things around the house. Now that there are other pressing matters in my head that did not exist a few years ago, any free time is welcomed. This entry is rather stupid. I can’t really talk about the important details so I sit here and dance around the real problems with nary a word toward clarity. Splendid. At least I own the space. Better than nothing. And now there is Paulie’s girlfriend who is a representation of something otherworldly, wonderful, and stirring. If only. Every time this particular episode comes around, I go back in time to when my life was much more comfortable. After that, Ashley and her unique mindset drifts into my consciousness and leaves me considering the one on the screen in the most dynamic, dramatic terms. Eh... Derailed by the past again. Not his girlfriend; she is just a tiny reminder that the pieces that have been removed from inside me may never return. Not her fault. Others are responsible. All memories and cute faces aside, the rest of the day will be slow. No big deal. I need to get out of this office for a while. Thursday is sans significance. None. Just a day, this one. Coffee; the usual around me. Ashley is in my brain again because where I left off with the episode yesterday is exactly where it started this morning... Paulie’s girlfriend and her sweet nature. Marvelous. When Ashley ends up swirling around the inside of my head, all sorts of relational analyses begin to take place, such as being overly exposed to the gaming culture during my formative years, and then much later when I began to realize that the more difficult parts of life had become easy, along with quite the reverse. I didn’t understand and am now so detached from any of those places I need to be that I am frankly surprised to function at all most days. Yes, I leveraged and forced the issue at times in order to keep myself as comfortable as possible and away from danger (or fearful situations). I really did. Leveraged and forced, those were all me some years ago. I knew precisely how to deal with people in such a manner so as to garner what I needed and placate them at the same time. Manipulation? Yes, there was some of that, but I am nowhere near the only one who embraced that type of shit. Less so, to be honest. Between the culture in Vegas, Tahoe and Reno, my mind had formed a way of life that was not only very difficult to achieve, but rather risky if I was to maintain real relationships with people. Every single occasion that found me in those places as an adult ended up reinforcing a way of viewing others that eventually began to hinder my ability to be personable without straining to do so. I had to stretch myself quite a bit at each connection or conversation because I had a hell of a time caring about whatever I was being told. My level of concern for people in general slid down a hill for many years until finally pushing me to make a list of the most important individuals as I completely disregarded the rest. I had to close everything off in order to try to live the way I so badly needed. The mindset that is ever-growing inside me came about due to a combination of the shit situations, the gaming culture and the machinelike, very sex-laden nature of the way it operated in the 70s and 80s, and the subtle influence of Ashley and a few other specific individuals. Even the Raven and I discussed the need to force everything to bend with reckless disregard for the purpose of being where one felt the most comfortable and secure in life. Yep, She did that on more than one occasion. Everything has combined to create the most insidious way of thinking that I have ever experienced, and the truth is the condition is growing every fucking day. I have made decisions that led to part of this, but the rest is the direct result of being treated the way people felt I should, a practice that fucking continues to this very second. Well, if the mindset grows beyond my ability to control the aftereffects, I’ll have to create an object lesson – I’ve tossed out a few small ones in recent years but everything quickly fades away with time – that people will not soon forget. This is growing and not entirely up to me. The more I am disregarded or the like, the further off-center my thinking becomes. Ashley said it best and changed my perception of the way people treat each other. The Raven’s viewpoint was often even worse. I am the product of so much that I can barely make a list without deep research. Yes... The scene within the program I’m watching pointed my head in the direction of loss, and then I ran with why there are parts of me missing. Only twice have those voids been temporarily filled. Twice in more than thirty years. The show on the right-hand display will roll around like it always does when I switch the rotation. I’ll see her again in that scene, consider the worsening effect of this mindset as it grew between viewings, and then sit here and state all this shit again soon enough. At least I’ve finally lumped a lot of things together that used to seem like separate issues. Now? One huge problem in my head that influences every fucking thing I do every fucking day. Once I make it through the hours and into the late evening, I think of the very quiet, comfortable morning with coffee while wondering if it will be the last time I am willing to live this way. Sometimes I want to wipe out certain causes. Completely. Other times? I let everything fade to the rear. I will see that girl again on the display and hear her words. And then? I’ll fall down and wish everything could be different. And then? Nothing will happen. And then? I’ll travel back in time and listen to Ashley. All I have left are memories. No future whatsoever. Well, if you consider what I have become, there is a future. I am a utility who takes care of other people’s problems. I can continue in such a vein because their needs never seem to end, whereas mine increase almost constantly and I almost lose my fucking mind several times every day. I can continue to do what others need because my programming is very nearly complete. Isn’t that splendid? Programmed. Years ago I wanted a machine. The situation has taken quite the fucking u-turn, eh? My future is emptiness; work for them; yearning; loss. Their futures are full of help. I didn’t even mention the damaging dreams and the way they altered the way I think and see the world, possibly for all time. Not a word in that long paragraph called to those dreams and the pain I feel inside due to their existence. A door to a hidden part of my brain was opened during that period and has remained as such for more than two years. It’s been driving me crazy long enough for me to believe none of that shit will ever go away. The dreams changed me and I don’t see a way back. Moreover, the insidious mindset has been affected to the point of often combining with those fucking dreams and leaving me to believe that I can’t be around other people for very long before descending downward and into places I can’t discuss here or anywhere else. The combination has created scenes and other thought patterns that I can’t even reveal to a fucking therapist, believe it or not. It’s bad; I don’t like this at all. Go back up the page and see the causes. The manner in which I view people and the way I think about their lives has become distorted to the point of creating some sort of wall around me that cannot allow any information to escape. I am skewed in the extreme. I often find myself asking questions to myself regarding people that should never be spoken out loud. Some of the fictional television I’ve watched in the past comes to mind and I end up creating little scenes in my head that similarly can’t be spoken out loud. I can’t share any of it with another human being because the result would undoubtedly be very negative. My paragraphs are running amok these days. I can’t follow a straight line most of the time. Sorry. The last of the coffee is next to me. My head is having trouble pulling itself from the past; memories of being precisely where I wanted and needed. Those occasions are few, unfortunately, and the sparing nature of such beautiful places and situations has caused my way of thinking to become even more skewed than in the above thoughts. My mind is awash this morning and all the effort in the world will be required if I am to come out the other side of this day intact. Early this afternoon we are to visit a very unique restaurant down the coast (I’ve been there before; last year perhaps) and I don’t need the past following along and causing me to ‘wonder’ about people I see. Rarely am I in a restaurant these days. I mostly remain here as often as possible, but when it comes to a birthday, I have to bow to the wishes of others. I simply cannot have daydreams of the past swirling inside me while out of the house, especially considering the possibility of something special grabbing my attention. I just can’t fucking have it. I need an isolated section of time to be nice and accommodating rather than falling into a pit again. I am already pretty fucked up this morning. Memories of my formative years have combined with those extremely rare occasions when I believed certain aspects of life would always exist for me regardless of the passage of time. Well, I was fucking wrong. I don’t need this level of thinking right now. There is already plenty inside that is driving me crazy, such as all that shit that was generated by seeing Paulie’s girlfriend again. Marvelous. I am surrounded daily by items that have the ability to distract me from reality for a little while. I have this machine and the laptop (should I move to the garage while writing), my huge camera setup, the endless truck project, my home theatre system, and a few other little things here and there that can sometimes put a smile on my face. Distraction; that is all. Everything comes back, and sometimes very quickly and with tons of force when I am exposed to a woman that generates either memories, desire or both at the same time. Not good. The items all around me cannot solve problems or substitute for things I really need. All they can do is help me get through a certain short period of time before everything goes all to hell again. The mindset is insidious and there is nothing I can do about it. Each day is worse than the last with regard to the way I think about people. At some point I am going to move away from this ill-found analysis and take care of the daily routine. Right now the house is very quiet and I’ve been trying to take advantage of the peaceful nature of the office. Inanimate objects pay no mind; the media continues to roll along on the right-hand display. Nothing changes here, ever. Sometimes I break out and move things around to better organize this room, although those times when I find the motivation are few and far between. There are days when I actually consider having so much time as being detrimental to my emotional condition. The truth is I would most likely be worse off had I not left the workforce. I was exposed to far too much beauty while traveling through the City and other places – often within the job sites – and had very little time to analyze my feelings. I suppose too much time can be bad for me in some ways, however. Too much thinking, and such. Maybe, anyway. The certainties related to my daily life are few these days. Most seem to be toward the negative manner in which I think and the damaging results from being exposed to beauty on occasion. There is one on the display right now, in fact, and no sooner did I see her for the millionth time when my brain began to manufacture impossible, beautiful situations between her and me. Splendid. There is no way out of this shit. Ok, I rose and worked on the routine. Now that it is finished, I can focus upon other matters, such as considering the restaurant trip this afternoon. I am not pleased about going, but once seated at the bar I’ll feel more comfortable, just like last time. Leaving there and returning home will be completely different. While cleaning the kitchen, I was trying to consider some older words related to the oft-repeated phrase, ‘this is a bad time’. The conclusion is that I have changed so much throughout the last several years that I could never be good for another person. That is to say I know myself too well to believe that any connection could be toward the positive. No fucking way. I am so fucked up these days that outside writing, having a few drinks or eating something agreeable, my life amounts to exactly nothing. There are three main characteristics that I have gleaned over the years which are almost universally regarded as very desirable in a love interest. They are confidence, humor, and ambition, be it with work or simply life itself. Well, I no longer possess two, although my level of humor is often considered quite high when others have spoken of me. That’s better than nothing, but a lack of confidence is so detrimental to a person’s outward appearance and stance in life that no amount of ‘funny’ can fucking offset such a huge negative. In short, I’ve lost parts of me that will not cease moving away at a high rate of speed. The only positive traits remaining inside me are kindness and consideration. Those are just fine. I help others constantly and am very generous with my time and resources. I don’t know why, but that’s the way I developed. Unfortunately, without the aforementioned traits, any closeness would be met with a distinct lack of balance on my part. The need has become too great. I can’t be good for anyone in the grand scheme. Others have carte blanche; I have a keyboard. Is that self-pity? Nope. I do not pity myself because some of the changes over the years are my fucking fault. I know what I've become. Blah... Blah... Blah, stickitupyourasscakes. I should have let Her do whatever She wished. Never mind. It’s just... If I am going to be completely fucking miserable, perhaps my past decisions should have gone in another direction. Just saying. Eh... ‘Fuck it. Let’s all have a drink.’ Thank you, Silvio. The Raven was 23 years old when we met; I was 48. When Ashley and I spent those few days together, our ages were 21 and 36. She was THAT much younger than myself. Unbelievable. I still don’t know the reason, but the Raven latched on to me deeply and very quickly. She appreciate the way my mind worked, fucked up as it was, and expressed to me often that there were aspects of society and living which She viewed almost exactly the same. With Ashley, there was one very important belief in her pretty head that went completely outside the lines to someone such as myself. I could not understand how she felt at such a young age. She wrapped herself around me in more ways than one and did not often let go, whereas the Raven was wrapped for several months. I still can’t comprehend what either of them saw outside the scope of my relationship with Ashley being driven partially by my plan to end my life in Vegas. Little did I know while spending time with the Raven, but She was on the same type of path. We were dangerous while together. Any long-term considerations were quite literally impossible. The same went for Ashley because one of her main concerns was to push me into returning home and living on, good or bad as such a plan may have turned out in the long run. A long-term relationship with either of those amazing souls was not an option. No fucking way. The Raven and I discussed the idea on many occasions and the conversation always pointed in the same direction: ‘Let’s enjoy ourselves without thinking beyond the moment.’ Does that sound familiar? Well, it may not because I pulled all of the stories involving Andrea. We literally lived from one hour to the next with zero interest in any type of end or separation. The damage was incoming, for sure, and since we both knew as much, the idea was to ignore everything in the world and deal with the consequences at a later time. Going back in time more than nine years and considering what has taken place in the meantime is telling me that I should have done things differently when I had the chance. That is a huge regret. I did not know that years later I’d end up as I am right now. I should have killed myself after Ashley left the hotel. I should have killed myself right after the Raven did the same. The horrible cave period found me considering such an act hourly, and every fucking day. Much could have been avoided had I followed through back then. Now I can’t because I have a few key individuals that count on me each day and I have yet to feel strongly enough to destroy them. I don’t have any idea of why I brought up the age differences aside from a lack of understanding as to why those two beautiful women clung to me. One additional reason that I am still alive is that I have never considered myself a wastrel. That kind of positive can't be ignored. I have wasted years, but that's different. It really is. I feel so fragile right now. Even the morning cocktail is barely helping to balance thoughts and calm my head. That is rare. I can’t lose this crutch because there are not many others these days. Oksana’s lingerie in this scene is not even remotely attractive. Just saying. For such a stunningly beautiful woman, the costume department should have done better. She is something to see, believe me. To employ an aphorism, I have never felt any semblance of having ‘amounted’ to much. While I have gone on at length regarding all of the negatives thrown at me by other people, I can’t dismiss the fact that I’ve fucked up plenty in life with zero help. The insidious mindset is a byproduct of both, unfortunately, and something that is here to stay. The alcohol’s numbing effects can be felt by yours truly right now, but I need not be lubricated to admit my own failures. That right there is the primary reason other people cannot get through the shit around me, be it via conversation or otherwise. I can railroad the best of them even while being stone fucking sober. I know full well that I have limited myself over and over throughout the years, and will not lean all that shit on the pillar of the two situations that played out more than forty years ago. I can’t know the entire truth because the past has faded too much, but I will say that no matter how many times I bring up the shit situations and their continuing effects, there have been periods when I was wholly responsible for some pretty stupid fucking decisions. My efforts here are going to become truncated in the future, which is to say the process of mincing words shall soon go the way of the dodo bird. As an aside, the career opportunity that came about in 2012 was a fucking HUGE turning point in my life. My decision to make an enormous life change turned into a very reckless period – all the trips to Vegas and elsewhere which chewed my liquid resources down to nearly nothing – and the financial aspect of that time had a negative effect upon the application process because the employer was a government contractor. That would have been my last career. I was quite literally a shoe-in. After being interviewed for a short time, the person in charge opened the conversation by stating that I would ‘enjoy working there’. Had it not been for my stupid fucking lifestyle that led up to that day, life from then forward would have most likely gone very differently. Marvelous. See? I’ve taken responsibility for being sidestepped by the company. My fault. One hundred percent. Throughout the ensuing years, and though I did work for the same employer for nearly a decade, at no point did I see myself as having accomplished much. The insidious mindset had an easy time taking over. Need soon outweighed everything else. Friday morning is here regardless of how I feel. Significance? None. The drive came and went with a minimum of frustration, and now I have all the time in the world to relax and take care of business. For whatever reason, I am very pleased to be here with an open schedule. This is the same as any other day of the week when I drive to the City, but the feelings are different right now. I don’t understand. I’ll take it, though. I’ll take any fucking positive that comes my way, especially after what took place last night... Ooh-fa; squished again. There was a short discussion regarding an episode of a program I’ve been following, mostly about the manner in which a few key characters had been written. After a few minutes of trying to make a very simple, coherent point, a realization hit me in the face. I announced that I ‘finally got it’ and then clammed up for the remainder of the evening. Throughout the next episode, I did not utter a single fucking word. And what was the realization? Something that is helping the mindset to become solidified over time. I was fairly angry at first, yet the process of calming myself ended up quick and easy. I had to think a little bit. I finally concluded after decades of observation, research and analysis that unless I am asked a technical question (and sometimes even in such cases) quite directly, no one is interested in anything I have to say. The direct evidence came about because I actually employed logic to follow a conversation within the program and laid out said evidence prior to anything being discussed. And then? Squished for the billionth time. Well, that was too much and now my stance has changed yet again. If I continue to roll over and allow myself to be routed and squished, the process will never change, nor will other people understand the weight of what they have caused. Now is the time, after so many years, for me to alter the way I deal with them. This is a very simple change and the type of which I will have to remain mindful nearly all of the time. While alone, I see little difficulty with such a process. The point has to be made while accompanied by just enough discomfort for those fucking people to feel if I am to succeed in actually forcing them to hear what I am saying. We shall see very soon if my plan works. I will also volunteer the idea that though there is an insidious mindset within me, others have something just as dangerous. They don’t even fucking know what it is, either. Marvelous. It’s time to do whatever I want. Today should prove to be both relaxing and enjoyable. All I have to do is avoid becoming too angry over this shit. I am so fucking sick of people that I can barely see straight at times. This is a bad time. I need to make the best of it, though. I have little else keeping me going. At least the weather has cooled quite a bit over the past few days. Tuesday was damned hot. This morning the temperature is resting comfortably in the 60s. Not bad. If I can get my head out of the din, the day should prove to be better than yesterday. And speaking of Thursday, the trip to the distillery for a late lunch went quite well. The weather was nice, food was excellent, and as usual their cocktails were beyond reproach. Returning home felt pretty good. Well, until evening when the fucking squish ruined everything. Hence the ‘bad time’ statement being repeated. If I can just remain fairly balanced throughout the day and enjoy my free time, dealing with any concerns during the evening could be easier than last night. I just have to remember to stay the course when interacting with other people. That’s the toughest aspect of this fucked up mood. Housework will come and go very quickly today, leaving my time wide open. Earlier I had mentioned the importance of free time along with possible pitfalls. Today is helping me see the major upside. I need it. I have to reconcile everything – as catalyzed by what took place yesterday – and calculate the best way for me to deal with people. Tomorrow will be one-up from today in that I need not drive at all. The entire duration will be all mine. I need that, too. I am tired of bringing up those problems. Nothing seems to change when it comes to the way others view or treat me, and that leaves just one option. I need to alter everything and leverage them in such a way so as to clearly communicate that too much has happened and they are subsequently responsible for whatever I become as a result. And yes, all that shit from many years ago is still in my head. That means those near me at present may receive a blast of shit that they did not actually cause in the first place. Some, but not all. Being unpleasant is a process that typically results in others being standoffish, and that is just what I want right now. After decades of being a very nice, helpful person, heading in the opposite direction with regard to certain situations is not easy, nor is it something casual. I have to be very careful to put them at just enough distance to remain present rather than completely disregarded. This is why I need the fucking time to think and plan. The mindset analysis has been partially interrupted but will return very soon. Nothing ever goes away. I have to get the hell away from the IDE for a while. This shit is going nowhere, although there have been a few decent points. The trouble is that lately my head changes directions both quickly and easily, leaving me with an uphill battle when trying to articulate my thoughts. It seems that whenever I try to describe what is in my brain, the topic ends up being switched due to a different incident, and then I can’t go back and locate the initial line of thinking. Last night fucked me up again and I nearly lost the entire shitare, meaning the insidious mindset became heavily challenged, as did my efforts in relaying its importance through the keyboard. I will cease this crap and do a bit of housework, all the while remaining mindful of what I am trying to accomplish when it comes to dealing with people. Not good."
An Insidious Mindset
Mature content No. 426 Published October 4th, 2024 10:31am pdt read ( words) Past entries
"I switched browsers and there have been zero issues with glitching while streaming MAX. I used to have an aversion to MS browsers for reasons I will not outline here, but switched just to see if the problem followed. It did not. Right out of the fucking gate, I mention the glitching issue because it’s very important to me. Now there is no interference with other windows or tabs as my shows play on the right-hand monitor. Not bad. And? Just after publishing the previous essay, I ventured to the map and found the exact location where I saw Jaime. The EXACT location within Balboa Park. That is another clue as to just how fucked up I’ve become over the years. Isn’t that splendid? Basket case. The basement is coming. The basement may be the only place where I can be safe. Isolation; quiet; space to explore the damaging dreams and that horrible change from two years ago. That fucking thing reared its ugly head at the festival, and I am not referring to the six-footer. This is something else entirely. Not good. As for the images of Jaime, well... I am in love with her. That is fucking ridiculous. I captured her in April of 2010 prior to everything turning to shit. Fourteen years later, I’ve become obsessed with the images and must see them every day. She makes the video playback issue disappear very quickly. Everything else, too. I do not know what to do about this shit. I don’t mention her that much anymore because I realize how fucking stupid it all sounds and wish to minimize possible backlash. Monday. I can’t get Jaime out of my head. Perhaps ‘I’ to ‘we’ can help a bit... Oh, boy... The inside is all fucked up, but we know. We know everything as the feelings and situations have evolved over the years. Most recently, we’ve referred to just over two years ago when a switch flipped inside and we made the ill-found decision to consider certain very specific aspects of people differently than in the past, afterward crafting elaborate scenes inside with nary a chance to analyze any of it. Everything must remain status quo or we are fucking finished. ‘Woe is us’. Let us go back in time to compare the current era to more than ten years ago while we were mired in daily work...
‘I did this to myself, but that action – or series of actions - had nothing to do with this place. I was elsewhere, both physically and emotionally. No one in this place had a breath or thought of me. They had no idea what was going on because of the distance. There was no possibility of that. What I should have done was leave, remain quiet and closed off, and wallow as I have done for so many years. Jesus fucking Christ why did I not? Am I that inane? Yes, absolutely. Enough that I knew not the consequences of my backward thoughts. Backward plans. Backward actions. Just fucking backward. Counter-productive to the last. That is me. I sit, sleep, eat, drink, work, drive, think, think, think... All of which, when taken as a whole, becomes for naught. The work pays for things (not worth it), and the rest have been unnecessary from the start. The whole of it all has taken me for a hellish ride. And it continues.’
We had few options back then with regard to daily life. 'I', again. I've brought up that text before because it was a defining period of the modern era. I still feel the same way, as well. Only the 'work' differs. Morning time is always nice and quiet. Today is no different. There is a birthday dinner later this afternoon, and just as the past couple of years, I am the salad maker. One is already finished, the other shall wait until later. I need to let the components chill before they can be processed and mixed. One rub this morning is the fact that there is a massive cellular outage that seems to span from coast to coast in this country. Verizon has been out since I sat here nearly three hours ago. My phone is displaying ‘SOS’ the entire time – I still have the thing connected via the wireless network in the house, but calls and texts are down – and after a bit of investigating, the issue is very widespread. I wonder what the hell happened that could affect so many areas. Is there something wrong with a satellite? I have been checking the news from time to time but as of yet, nothing significant. I am seeing tons of reports on the outage but no cause. Very interesting. There have been a ton of people reporting the outage on DownDetector, to the tune of over 100k in three hours. Wow. Anyway, my coffee is gone so I’ll probably take care of the daily routine soon. I need to keep the house quiet for the time being. I will be heading to the north end of town in about four hours. If I can extricate Jaime from my brain, the day may progress better than it has thus far. Ugh. I love her. Hmm... The problem could not be just one satellite because I believe they are in geosynchronous orbit over various parts of the globe. One satellite can’t cover from one coast to the other. I don’t think so, anyway. I’ll have to seek some information. I finished the routine and poured a nice cocktail, and after 11am the outage still continues unimpeded. Very interesting. At least nothing has affected the garbage trucks. Heh. One funny aspect of those trucks is the fact that despite some of them having failed backup alarms – they just buzz and sound ridiculous – rather than replacing the faulty units, the company added new ones. Now they make two sounds at the same time. Silly. I am not a person who needs the phone for business or anything pressing, so having it connected to the wireless network at least allows me to access the Internet if needed. Lots of people are in some real pretty shit without the phone service. I feel for them. Like the man said, ‘May you live in interesting times’. Sometimes ‘interesting’ causes huge problems. I still have to make the second salad but don’t give a shit yet. I’ll get to it in a little while, I suppose. The process is simple. Isn’t this entry fascinating? Raise one eyebrow. Oh... Shit. I just refreshed the news feed regarding the cellular outage and now three carriers are having problems. Unbelievable. I don’t mean to propagate rumors, but could this be intentional? I hope not. I’m sure the general public will be in the dark even after everything is restored. We seldom receive accurate information and have a difficult time knowing for sure one way or the other. The main topic has been absent as of yet. Big fucking surprise. And? Holy God is Jamie ever something to see. She is so beautiful that the idea of smashing my head to pieces comes to mind quite often these days. God fucking damn it anyway, why do I have to feel this way? Am I experiencing fictophilia? The possibility is not very far off the mark. If so, it is an insidious mindset. One of two, actually. There you go. I am completely fucked in the head. Is there any significance to Tuesday? Nope. Coffee. Gangsters. Depression. The drive was quite slow this morning, although there will be no more of that crap for three days. Nice. No beauty; no worries. Slow traffic is the norm on weekdays. Last night I was up later than usual due to a small gathering next door after visiting the bar post-dinner. The place was very mellow and for a change I was not terribly uncomfortable. Next door was nothing, really. A little bit of conversation. Being up later than the norm has become increasingly difficult throughout the last few years. I notice more and more often that I end up wishing I’d left myself out of certain affairs. Oh, well... Not a big deal. At least I have an overage of free time these days. Rarely is anything very difficult because I can always relax and consider my options. The real trouble is when my head travels sideways in the morning. Such situations disallow any creative writing and hinder my efforts at inner exploration. This is one such morning, too. The shit went sideways quickly, but I recovered. The past will not let go of my fucking feet when I try to walk forward in life. Damn. The clock is creeping along rather than spinning out of control. This is good. The routine will be very quick and I will end up with all the time in the world to do whatever seems best. Not bad.
The film industry is trying to creep in again. I’ll have to keep that shit pushed back for the time being. Andrea and Ashley, too, mostly due to those names popping back into my head via media and whatnot. Sometimes there is an inordinate amount of reminders floating near me and it drives me nuts. The six-foot woman from last weekend, for example, had me daydreaming about the fact that Ashley was so fucking tall and the other one was just one inch shorter. Even the Raven stood five-seven despite being so slender. Between the tall woman at the festival and being reminded of those names, I am surprised to have avoided gushing all over the place like I used to while writing those stories. Being reminded of Andrea is tough because we were in our own world for weeks; a world we created in order to escape the shackles of real life. She just happened to come along when my willingness to shove everything to the rear and flip the fuck out for a while was at an all-time high. In 2003 when I ran away and ended up meeting both Juliette and Ashley, I had only thought I was being reckless. There were still connections, though. The true freedom was being with Andrea. Thanks to that super-tall woman from the other day for bringing me back in time and imagining actually looking up at Andrea when she wore her booties. Holy shit. Maybe the film industry is a safer draw right now. Ooh-fa... The temperature outside is ramping up damned fast. Early this morning when I was preparing for the drive, the house was very cool – right close to 67 – and I walked outside to feel 77. Now? The garage is 91 prior to noon and the forecast calls for a high of 96 by 4pm. Jesus. At least the wind is blowing right now. That helps. There will be no cooking tonight, though. I can’t heat the kitchen and then enjoy some hot food because there is no insulation in the walls or attic of this little cracker box (yet) and the mercury will continue to rise indoors and then fall flat at some point this evening. Holy moly is it ever hot outside, especially in the sun. I wasn’t expecting this shit today, but now that I know, my activities will be adjusted accordingly. Had we taken the trip to Thousand Oaks this morning, the current position would be somewhere down interstate 5 in even more heat. Yes, my car has one hell of an air conditioning system, but still... Exiting the car in 100-degree heat is never fun when the interior is held at 68 by yours truly. Again, ‘may you live in interesting times’. No shit. I took care of the quick routine, and now I can relax for the remainder of the day. High temperatures slow me way the fuck down every time. On the upside, the heat will distract me from problems. Later. The mindset is still apparent. I have the house to myself for the next several hours, too. That’s good. Having the time and space to think clearly is something for which I dreamed for years while working full-time. There were days when my mind was going a million miles an hour and I couldn’t do anything about it. I tried to record my thoughts in the cloud as often as possible, but there was never enough time. I was distracted. The situation was analogous to lying in bed at night and ‘writing’ some thoughts, only to fall asleep and forget it all by morning. Not good. Today is a prime example of the gradient between the years I worked and those that have found me with more than enough quiet time to explore. If I could understand the reasoning behind such an insidious mindset, everything would move along much better. After more than two years, I still don’t get it. Part of the change is understandable, to be honest, yet not a day goes by without me dreaming of things better left alone. All of the related keywords have to be left out of this content, meaning no one is going to follow along. Is that important? Yes, mostly because a small part of me is still open to external connections with regard to my mental health. The information is very fucking subjective and quite the anathema which doesn’t help matters at all. Any potential connection would create so much fear inside me that the possibility of help could die before ever seeing the light of day. At least I have all this time at my disposal. Better than nothing. Ah... There is Oksana and her five-eight stance and stunning gait. What I wouldn’t give... Eh, never mind. The first scene of decent length involving her character is related to everything that pains me on a given day. No, she is not the problem. There is something else. Ugh. Oksana is unrelated to the insidious thinking in which I engage during nearly every waking moment. She is a person. And what am I? No idea. Wednesday. Significance? Nope. Coffee is about all there is thus far. The nature of the way I think slammed me as soon as I poured the drink and headed into this office a little while ago. A girl popped into my head and is now stuck right behind my eyes. I’ve seen her on occasion – usually when least expecting someone so picturesque on the sidewalk – and I pretty much lose my sense of direction for a while because of what goes through my mind. The feelings have been increasing, as well, and I seem to have become more focused than in the past. The way I view people these days is a direct result of the insidious mindset, and that, in turn, was born of two factors; fear and desperation. This was bound to happen at some point. Seeing her represents the change that took place a couple of years ago, as well. That one is still partly a mystery, although there are clues from my own past that have informed me of ideas of how I turned out this way. And yes, part of that shit is fear. Much of the way I live my life these days is driven by fear, meaning anything related to the past and driving me toward worry is not surprising. It’s almost like I expect something to hurt and bring me down every time I sit here to think. The mindset is a part of that process. It is ever-increasing in severity. Today is Wednesday and right out of the gate I am already fucked up. I hope the feelings of desperation don’t take over and ruin the day so early. I hate that kind of thing. Again, and like yesterday, certain specific terms have been left out of this crap. That is for my own protection. Trust me, some of what is going through my head this morning is very bad. I don’t know if there is anything I can do about this, such as making the days go by more smoothly or avoiding those deep pitfalls that seem to remain in whatever path I decide to take. The girl, for example, causes all manner of elicit scenes to play out inside me. Over and over I see her and me together, which for all intents and purposes is completely impossible. Well, there could be a possibility, yet the circumstances are such that the likelihood is so slim that it may as well not even exist. I should say ‘improbable’. There are other reasons besides the obvious, too. Needs that I’ve laid out here enough already. The fact is that throughout the past two-plus years, the mindset has formed and continues to increase in severity every time I see her or think of a few others from the past. There is some sense of security involved when I daydream about her, yet I probably can’t adequately explain why. The idea goes all the way back to the early part of the eighties. In any case, not a morning passes by without finding me yearning to see her, and much more. The mindset has taken over a portion of my brainpower and I probably can’t ever get it back. Much of what I need to say here is missing. There is a good reason. No one would understand, either, and that fact is not the main problem. The trouble with growing into thinking this way is that my level of desperation increases alongside – and likely even with – the mindset, and the key result is realizing that happiness cannot be achieved outside the scope of my needs, skewed and deviant as they have become. Not good. The girl is just one aspect because I see her eyes from time to time and end up wishing she would hold me. The rest? Worse. Years of it. Hence? Losing my way at some point each and even morning, sometimes in the worst way and other times not as bad. I fucking hate it, but what can I do? No one knows what is going on. The visceral need I feel when I see her or other examples of such a unique appearance is part of a mindset I have not laid out here. Yes, I’ve stated on occasion that I need ‘someone’ to hold me and tell me everything will be ok. That’s part of it, but the detailed information and files inside my head must remain out of the public eye. The insidious nature of the mindset that is taking over can’t be discussed here or anywhere else. I know this will continue; I know I’ll run across something every fucking day that will hurt and derail my ability to think. When I sit here with the first cup of coffee, part of me is pleased to have the quiet time. The other part already knows everything will turn to shit soon enough. That other fucking essay is beginning to grab hold of my consciousness. I’ll have to push back if I am to come out the other side of the morning intact. Sometimes I can’t get that stuff out of my head no matter what may be taking place. There are too many memories. I have yet to learn how to compartmentalize them to the point of actually clearing my mind at times. It seems the tiniest aspect of something on the television or outside my window is enough to shove everything aside and fill my head with the essay again. After that, I may as well simply give up because I’ve lost the most important reasons for living as outlined in that fucking thing. I wish I could understand why the world must be this way. I can’t even remember certain parts of the past. No, not pictures. Feelings are the problem. I can’t fucking remember and the loss is killing me. I don’t want to be forced to return to that entry and ponder what can be said. The process always leaves me heartbroken and angry. This morning I already have enough negativity and loss in my head. Adding more to the pile could tip me a little bit too far. I shall stay away from that writing for a while. Yesterday the heat became overwhelming and I ended up taking it easy for the duration. So far this morning, the mercury is much lower and the house is cool. I can only hope the interior doesn’t warm as much as last night. Without insulation or a decent breeze, once the house heats, there is little I can do to exchange the outside air with that of the interior space. The evening ends up cool but the house remains pretty warm. By the time I dropped into bed, the temperature was just under 80. Ugh. An entire night is required to allow the house to cool off. The positive is that my day is completely open to whatever I wish to accomplish. Or? Nothing at all. Eh... This is the episode that contains a scene in which a film is being shot. I always find it a bit interesting even if the general consensus of this episode is fairly negative. People seem to lose the big picture sometimes, and the story is advanced in a few key ways despite some of the scenes not appearing to fit very well on the surface. None of that matters. Repeat viewings can educate at times, but people are fucking ridiculous. Anyway, all gangster business aside, today is underway and I’ll have to figure out how to proceed very soon. I’ve already become very down and lost my way a little while ago. I need to get it back if I expect to feel okay (at best) this evening. The weather will probably dictate how much I accomplish. We are in the month of October, meaning eventually the heat will disappear for the season. That’s good. I need to extricate the insidious mindset, as well. Heat aside, my brain must be clear enough in operation for me to live like an actual person rather than some malfunctioning machine. Some days I just don’t know how to do it. Almost never, to be honest. Wonderful.
The mindset and dreams come to the forefront too often for me to simply ignore them or ‘turn off’ the feelings. Both lead to loss. Both make me sad and angry. Nothing seems to help me find true solutions, or even distractions at times. The nature of what I’ve been thinking is far too powerful for anything so simple to actually help for a decent amount of time. I am still trying to reconcile the damaging dreams (though I have a good idea of the reason my subconscious sent so much desire in that direction) and each day I sit here lost in a sea of potential words that never seem to answer any questions aside from the obvious. I can’t spell that out here, unfortunately. I’d end up in hot water. The idea of why my brain created those dreams in the first place is something that would also land me in the same water, so anything I try to describe here will have to rely upon what I’ve written in the past, such as the two shit situations and their lasting effects upon my ability to live life each day free of pain. I can’t turn this crap off, ever. If that means I never learned coping skills, go fuck yourself. Not everyone can follow some therapeutic lessons and actually succeed. I’ve tried, and still I remain almost completely miserable. I no longer believe the ability to cope is necessarily a ‘skill’, either. It is a reaction; a chosen path for some and a last-ditch effort for others. As I said, that is a belief. I don’t have enough knowledge about other people to create a fucking pie chart. All I can do is express how I feel about everything. The tsunami warning system is being tested right now. Wow, those sirens are powerful. A little time has passed and I switched from coffee to whiskey, as is the norm these days. The weather is warming, although not as quickly as yesterday. Hopefully, this evening will be more comfortable than last night. Whatever the case, I’ll probably refrain from anything physical aside from the laundry that is now running. Saundra with her big, beautiful eyes is on the screen right now. Oy. Damn, that woman was so beautiful throughout this series that sometimes I just have to stare. Anyway, my head has been filled with shit all morning – meaning feelings of loss and desire – yet I’ve been able to remain a bit more ‘up’ than during the last several months. I am trying to avoid letting that crap get the best of me and derail my efforts around the house. I’ve made too much progress to be stifled by things I can no longer have or places I can no longer inhabit. Does that mean I am willing to accept the two shit situations and move forward? Nope. Not even close. The issue is not acceptance, it is as simple as the ability to put everything aside for a little while so I can ensure this household functions properly, which is my primary responsibility these days. Acceptance is just not going to happen. Much like progress and society’s view of ‘norms’ and such, there is just no fucking way I can take that switch from the main line. No. I’ve been fucked over far too much for any reconciliation. Thankfully (for them, anyway), those responsible for the shit situations are two-for-three. Only one is still living. As long as I can continue to function from one day to the next and care for the house, the bad shit will wait until there is time for me to sit here and carry on trying to understand the details of the way my mind operates. Not easy. Not a bit. I am so fucked in the head these days that sometimes I feel I am worsening faster than I can come close to answering even one damned question. My head is about as skewed as possible. The remainder of this morning and the early afternoon will be dedicated to laundry business and some light organization. Well, those will happen once my cocktail is consumed. There is no other way for me to live anymore. More time has passed and the laundry has been completed. There are a few items drying on the rack in my garage. I also took care of the kitchen. Warm weather usually means lunch or dinner can be simple in order to avoid firing up the cooktop or oven, so food is going to be delivered very soon. The rest of the day is wide-open for whatever seems best, or anything that can be done without overheating myself. After lunch, the temperature will be continuing its rise, so not much else will be completed. Eh, I don’t really care anyway. There is always plenty of time for housework and I don’t have a fixed schedule like in the past. I was never very happy about being left with a finite amount of time to take care of things around the house. Now that there are other pressing matters in my head that did not exist a few years ago, any free time is welcomed. This entry is rather stupid. I can’t really talk about the important details so I sit here and dance around the real problems with nary a word toward clarity. Splendid. At least I own the space. Better than nothing. And now there is Paulie’s girlfriend who is a representation of something otherworldly, wonderful, and stirring. If only. Every time this particular episode comes around, I go back in time to when my life was much more comfortable. After that, Ashley and her unique mindset drifts into my consciousness and leaves me considering the one on the screen in the most dynamic, dramatic terms. Eh... Derailed by the past again. Not his girlfriend; she is just a tiny reminder that the pieces that have been removed from inside me may never return. Not her fault. Others are responsible. All memories and cute faces aside, the rest of the day will be slow. No big deal. I need to get out of this office for a while. Thursday is sans significance. None. Just a day, this one. Coffee; the usual around me. Ashley is in my brain again because where I left off with the episode yesterday is exactly where it started this morning... Paulie’s girlfriend and her sweet nature. Marvelous. When Ashley ends up swirling around the inside of my head, all sorts of relational analyses begin to take place, such as being overly exposed to the gaming culture during my formative years, and then much later when I began to realize that the more difficult parts of life had become easy, along with quite the reverse. I didn’t understand and am now so detached from any of those places I need to be that I am frankly surprised to function at all most days. Yes, I leveraged and forced the issue at times in order to keep myself as comfortable as possible and away from danger (or fearful situations). I really did. Leveraged and forced, those were all me some years ago. I knew precisely how to deal with people in such a manner so as to garner what I needed and placate them at the same time. Manipulation? Yes, there was some of that, but I am nowhere near the only one who embraced that type of shit. Less so, to be honest. Between the culture in Vegas, Tahoe and Reno, my mind had formed a way of life that was not only very difficult to achieve, but rather risky if I was to maintain real relationships with people. Every single occasion that found me in those places as an adult ended up reinforcing a way of viewing others that eventually began to hinder my ability to be personable without straining to do so. I had to stretch myself quite a bit at each connection or conversation because I had a hell of a time caring about whatever I was being told. My level of concern for people in general slid down a hill for many years until finally pushing me to make a list of the most important individuals as I completely disregarded the rest. I had to close everything off in order to try to live the way I so badly needed. The mindset that is ever-growing inside me came about due to a combination of the shit situations, the gaming culture and the machinelike, very sex-laden nature of the way it operated in the 70s and 80s, and the subtle influence of Ashley and a few other specific individuals. Even the Raven and I discussed the need to force everything to bend with reckless disregard for the purpose of being where one felt the most comfortable and secure in life. Yep, She did that on more than one occasion. Everything has combined to create the most insidious way of thinking that I have ever experienced, and the truth is the condition is growing every fucking day. I have made decisions that led to part of this, but the rest is the direct result of being treated the way people felt I should, a practice that fucking continues to this very second. Well, if the mindset grows beyond my ability to control the aftereffects, I’ll have to create an object lesson – I’ve tossed out a few small ones in recent years but everything quickly fades away with time – that people will not soon forget. This is growing and not entirely up to me. The more I am disregarded or the like, the further off-center my thinking becomes. Ashley said it best and changed my perception of the way people treat each other. The Raven’s viewpoint was often even worse. I am the product of so much that I can barely make a list without deep research. Yes... The scene within the program I’m watching pointed my head in the direction of loss, and then I ran with why there are parts of me missing. Only twice have those voids been temporarily filled. Twice in more than thirty years. The show on the right-hand display will roll around like it always does when I switch the rotation. I’ll see her again in that scene, consider the worsening effect of this mindset as it grew between viewings, and then sit here and state all this shit again soon enough. At least I’ve finally lumped a lot of things together that used to seem like separate issues. Now? One huge problem in my head that influences every fucking thing I do every fucking day. Once I make it through the hours and into the late evening, I think of the very quiet, comfortable morning with coffee while wondering if it will be the last time I am willing to live this way. Sometimes I want to wipe out certain causes. Completely. Other times? I let everything fade to the rear. I will see that girl again on the display and hear her words. And then? I’ll fall down and wish everything could be different. And then? Nothing will happen. And then? I’ll travel back in time and listen to Ashley. All I have left are memories. No future whatsoever.
Well, if you consider what I have become, there is a future. I am a utility who takes care of other people’s problems. I can continue in such a vein because their needs never seem to end, whereas mine increase almost constantly and I almost lose my fucking mind several times every day. I can continue to do what others need because my programming is very nearly complete. Isn’t that splendid? Programmed. Years ago I wanted a machine. The situation has taken quite the fucking u-turn, eh? My future is emptiness; work for them; yearning; loss. Their futures are full of help. I didn’t even mention the damaging dreams and the way they altered the way I think and see the world, possibly for all time. Not a word in that long paragraph called to those dreams and the pain I feel inside due to their existence. A door to a hidden part of my brain was opened during that period and has remained as such for more than two years. It’s been driving me crazy long enough for me to believe none of that shit will ever go away. The dreams changed me and I don’t see a way back. Moreover, the insidious mindset has been affected to the point of often combining with those fucking dreams and leaving me to believe that I can’t be around other people for very long before descending downward and into places I can’t discuss here or anywhere else. The combination has created scenes and other thought patterns that I can’t even reveal to a fucking therapist, believe it or not. It’s bad; I don’t like this at all. Go back up the page and see the causes. The manner in which I view people and the way I think about their lives has become distorted to the point of creating some sort of wall around me that cannot allow any information to escape. I am skewed in the extreme. I often find myself asking questions to myself regarding people that should never be spoken out loud. Some of the fictional television I’ve watched in the past comes to mind and I end up creating little scenes in my head that similarly can’t be spoken out loud. I can’t share any of it with another human being because the result would undoubtedly be very negative. My paragraphs are running amok these days. I can’t follow a straight line most of the time. Sorry. The last of the coffee is next to me. My head is having trouble pulling itself from the past; memories of being precisely where I wanted and needed. Those occasions are few, unfortunately, and the sparing nature of such beautiful places and situations has caused my way of thinking to become even more skewed than in the above thoughts. My mind is awash this morning and all the effort in the world will be required if I am to come out the other side of this day intact. Early this afternoon we are to visit a very unique restaurant down the coast (I’ve been there before; last year perhaps) and I don’t need the past following along and causing me to ‘wonder’ about people I see. Rarely am I in a restaurant these days. I mostly remain here as often as possible, but when it comes to a birthday, I have to bow to the wishes of others. I simply cannot have daydreams of the past swirling inside me while out of the house, especially considering the possibility of something special grabbing my attention. I just can’t fucking have it. I need an isolated section of time to be nice and accommodating rather than falling into a pit again. I am already pretty fucked up this morning. Memories of my formative years have combined with those extremely rare occasions when I believed certain aspects of life would always exist for me regardless of the passage of time. Well, I was fucking wrong. I don’t need this level of thinking right now. There is already plenty inside that is driving me crazy, such as all that shit that was generated by seeing Paulie’s girlfriend again. Marvelous. I am surrounded daily by items that have the ability to distract me from reality for a little while. I have this machine and the laptop (should I move to the garage while writing), my huge camera setup, the endless truck project, my home theatre system, and a few other little things here and there that can sometimes put a smile on my face. Distraction; that is all. Everything comes back, and sometimes very quickly and with tons of force when I am exposed to a woman that generates either memories, desire or both at the same time. Not good. The items all around me cannot solve problems or substitute for things I really need. All they can do is help me get through a certain short period of time before everything goes all to hell again. The mindset is insidious and there is nothing I can do about it. Each day is worse than the last with regard to the way I think about people. At some point I am going to move away from this ill-found analysis and take care of the daily routine. Right now the house is very quiet and I’ve been trying to take advantage of the peaceful nature of the office. Inanimate objects pay no mind; the media continues to roll along on the right-hand display. Nothing changes here, ever. Sometimes I break out and move things around to better organize this room, although those times when I find the motivation are few and far between. There are days when I actually consider having so much time as being detrimental to my emotional condition. The truth is I would most likely be worse off had I not left the workforce. I was exposed to far too much beauty while traveling through the City and other places – often within the job sites – and had very little time to analyze my feelings. I suppose too much time can be bad for me in some ways, however. Too much thinking, and such. Maybe, anyway. The certainties related to my daily life are few these days. Most seem to be toward the negative manner in which I think and the damaging results from being exposed to beauty on occasion. There is one on the display right now, in fact, and no sooner did I see her for the millionth time when my brain began to manufacture impossible, beautiful situations between her and me. Splendid. There is no way out of this shit. Ok, I rose and worked on the routine. Now that it is finished, I can focus upon other matters, such as considering the restaurant trip this afternoon. I am not pleased about going, but once seated at the bar I’ll feel more comfortable, just like last time. Leaving there and returning home will be completely different. While cleaning the kitchen, I was trying to consider some older words related to the oft-repeated phrase, ‘this is a bad time’. The conclusion is that I have changed so much throughout the last several years that I could never be good for another person. That is to say I know myself too well to believe that any connection could be toward the positive. No fucking way. I am so fucked up these days that outside writing, having a few drinks or eating something agreeable, my life amounts to exactly nothing. There are three main characteristics that I have gleaned over the years which are almost universally regarded as very desirable in a love interest. They are confidence, humor, and ambition, be it with work or simply life itself. Well, I no longer possess two, although my level of humor is often considered quite high when others have spoken of me. That’s better than nothing, but a lack of confidence is so detrimental to a person’s outward appearance and stance in life that no amount of ‘funny’ can fucking offset such a huge negative. In short, I’ve lost parts of me that will not cease moving away at a high rate of speed. The only positive traits remaining inside me are kindness and consideration. Those are just fine. I help others constantly and am very generous with my time and resources. I don’t know why, but that’s the way I developed. Unfortunately, without the aforementioned traits, any closeness would be met with a distinct lack of balance on my part. The need has become too great. I can’t be good for anyone in the grand scheme. Others have carte blanche; I have a keyboard. Is that self-pity? Nope. I do not pity myself because some of the changes over the years are my fucking fault. I know what I've become. Blah... Blah... Blah, stickitupyourasscakes. I should have let Her do whatever She wished. Never mind. It’s just... If I am going to be completely fucking miserable, perhaps my past decisions should have gone in another direction. Just saying. Eh... ‘Fuck it. Let’s all have a drink.’ Thank you, Silvio. The Raven was 23 years old when we met; I was 48. When Ashley and I spent those few days together, our ages were 21 and 36. She was THAT much younger than myself. Unbelievable. I still don’t know the reason, but the Raven latched on to me deeply and very quickly. She appreciate the way my mind worked, fucked up as it was, and expressed to me often that there were aspects of society and living which She viewed almost exactly the same. With Ashley, there was one very important belief in her pretty head that went completely outside the lines to someone such as myself. I could not understand how she felt at such a young age. She wrapped herself around me in more ways than one and did not often let go, whereas the Raven was wrapped for several months. I still can’t comprehend what either of them saw outside the scope of my relationship with Ashley being driven partially by my plan to end my life in Vegas. Little did I know while spending time with the Raven, but She was on the same type of path. We were dangerous while together. Any long-term considerations were quite literally impossible. The same went for Ashley because one of her main concerns was to push me into returning home and living on, good or bad as such a plan may have turned out in the long run. A long-term relationship with either of those amazing souls was not an option. No fucking way. The Raven and I discussed the idea on many occasions and the conversation always pointed in the same direction: ‘Let’s enjoy ourselves without thinking beyond the moment.’ Does that sound familiar? Well, it may not because I pulled all of the stories involving Andrea. We literally lived from one hour to the next with zero interest in any type of end or separation. The damage was incoming, for sure, and since we both knew as much, the idea was to ignore everything in the world and deal with the consequences at a later time. Going back in time more than nine years and considering what has taken place in the meantime is telling me that I should have done things differently when I had the chance. That is a huge regret. I did not know that years later I’d end up as I am right now. I should have killed myself after Ashley left the hotel. I should have killed myself right after the Raven did the same. The horrible cave period found me considering such an act hourly, and every fucking day. Much could have been avoided had I followed through back then. Now I can’t because I have a few key individuals that count on me each day and I have yet to feel strongly enough to destroy them. I don’t have any idea of why I brought up the age differences aside from a lack of understanding as to why those two beautiful women clung to me. One additional reason that I am still alive is that I have never considered myself a wastrel. That kind of positive can't be ignored. I have wasted years, but that's different. It really is.
I feel so fragile right now. Even the morning cocktail is barely helping to balance thoughts and calm my head. That is rare. I can’t lose this crutch because there are not many others these days. Oksana’s lingerie in this scene is not even remotely attractive. Just saying. For such a stunningly beautiful woman, the costume department should have done better. She is something to see, believe me. To employ an aphorism, I have never felt any semblance of having ‘amounted’ to much. While I have gone on at length regarding all of the negatives thrown at me by other people, I can’t dismiss the fact that I’ve fucked up plenty in life with zero help. The insidious mindset is a byproduct of both, unfortunately, and something that is here to stay. The alcohol’s numbing effects can be felt by yours truly right now, but I need not be lubricated to admit my own failures. That right there is the primary reason other people cannot get through the shit around me, be it via conversation or otherwise. I can railroad the best of them even while being stone fucking sober. I know full well that I have limited myself over and over throughout the years, and will not lean all that shit on the pillar of the two situations that played out more than forty years ago. I can’t know the entire truth because the past has faded too much, but I will say that no matter how many times I bring up the shit situations and their continuing effects, there have been periods when I was wholly responsible for some pretty stupid fucking decisions. My efforts here are going to become truncated in the future, which is to say the process of mincing words shall soon go the way of the dodo bird. As an aside, the career opportunity that came about in 2012 was a fucking HUGE turning point in my life. My decision to make an enormous life change turned into a very reckless period – all the trips to Vegas and elsewhere which chewed my liquid resources down to nearly nothing – and the financial aspect of that time had a negative effect upon the application process because the employer was a government contractor. That would have been my last career. I was quite literally a shoe-in. After being interviewed for a short time, the person in charge opened the conversation by stating that I would ‘enjoy working there’. Had it not been for my stupid fucking lifestyle that led up to that day, life from then forward would have most likely gone very differently. Marvelous. See? I’ve taken responsibility for being sidestepped by the company. My fault. One hundred percent. Throughout the ensuing years, and though I did work for the same employer for nearly a decade, at no point did I see myself as having accomplished much. The insidious mindset had an easy time taking over. Need soon outweighed everything else. Friday morning is here regardless of how I feel. Significance? None. The drive came and went with a minimum of frustration, and now I have all the time in the world to relax and take care of business. For whatever reason, I am very pleased to be here with an open schedule. This is the same as any other day of the week when I drive to the City, but the feelings are different right now. I don’t understand. I’ll take it, though. I’ll take any fucking positive that comes my way, especially after what took place last night... Ooh-fa; squished again. There was a short discussion regarding an episode of a program I’ve been following, mostly about the manner in which a few key characters had been written. After a few minutes of trying to make a very simple, coherent point, a realization hit me in the face. I announced that I ‘finally got it’ and then clammed up for the remainder of the evening. Throughout the next episode, I did not utter a single fucking word. And what was the realization? Something that is helping the mindset to become solidified over time. I was fairly angry at first, yet the process of calming myself ended up quick and easy. I had to think a little bit. I finally concluded after decades of observation, research and analysis that unless I am asked a technical question (and sometimes even in such cases) quite directly, no one is interested in anything I have to say. The direct evidence came about because I actually employed logic to follow a conversation within the program and laid out said evidence prior to anything being discussed. And then? Squished for the billionth time. Well, that was too much and now my stance has changed yet again. If I continue to roll over and allow myself to be routed and squished, the process will never change, nor will other people understand the weight of what they have caused. Now is the time, after so many years, for me to alter the way I deal with them. This is a very simple change and the type of which I will have to remain mindful nearly all of the time. While alone, I see little difficulty with such a process. The point has to be made while accompanied by just enough discomfort for those fucking people to feel if I am to succeed in actually forcing them to hear what I am saying. We shall see very soon if my plan works. I will also volunteer the idea that though there is an insidious mindset within me, others have something just as dangerous. They don’t even fucking know what it is, either. Marvelous. It’s time to do whatever I want. Today should prove to be both relaxing and enjoyable. All I have to do is avoid becoming too angry over this shit. I am so fucking sick of people that I can barely see straight at times. This is a bad time. I need to make the best of it, though. I have little else keeping me going. At least the weather has cooled quite a bit over the past few days. Tuesday was damned hot. This morning the temperature is resting comfortably in the 60s. Not bad. If I can get my head out of the din, the day should prove to be better than yesterday. And speaking of Thursday, the trip to the distillery for a late lunch went quite well. The weather was nice, food was excellent, and as usual their cocktails were beyond reproach. Returning home felt pretty good. Well, until evening when the fucking squish ruined everything. Hence the ‘bad time’ statement being repeated. If I can just remain fairly balanced throughout the day and enjoy my free time, dealing with any concerns during the evening could be easier than last night. I just have to remember to stay the course when interacting with other people. That’s the toughest aspect of this fucked up mood. Housework will come and go very quickly today, leaving my time wide open. Earlier I had mentioned the importance of free time along with possible pitfalls. Today is helping me see the major upside. I need it. I have to reconcile everything – as catalyzed by what took place yesterday – and calculate the best way for me to deal with people. Tomorrow will be one-up from today in that I need not drive at all. The entire duration will be all mine. I need that, too. I am tired of bringing up those problems. Nothing seems to change when it comes to the way others view or treat me, and that leaves just one option. I need to alter everything and leverage them in such a way so as to clearly communicate that too much has happened and they are subsequently responsible for whatever I become as a result. And yes, all that shit from many years ago is still in my head. That means those near me at present may receive a blast of shit that they did not actually cause in the first place. Some, but not all. Being unpleasant is a process that typically results in others being standoffish, and that is just what I want right now. After decades of being a very nice, helpful person, heading in the opposite direction with regard to certain situations is not easy, nor is it something casual. I have to be very careful to put them at just enough distance to remain present rather than completely disregarded. This is why I need the fucking time to think and plan. The mindset analysis has been partially interrupted but will return very soon. Nothing ever goes away. I have to get the hell away from the IDE for a while. This shit is going nowhere, although there have been a few decent points. The trouble is that lately my head changes directions both quickly and easily, leaving me with an uphill battle when trying to articulate my thoughts. It seems that whenever I try to describe what is in my brain, the topic ends up being switched due to a different incident, and then I can’t go back and locate the initial line of thinking. Last night fucked me up again and I nearly lost the entire shitare, meaning the insidious mindset became heavily challenged, as did my efforts in relaying its importance through the keyboard. I will cease this crap and do a bit of housework, all the while remaining mindful of what I am trying to accomplish when it comes to dealing with people. Not good."
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