The Kept Vane Mature content No. 399 Published February 1st, 2024 8:21am pst read ( words) Past entries "Nothing ends, indeed. Much like this drivel. Yesterday was not the best, beginning with a shitty morning and then ending with me working in the kitchen on and off for hours. I do enjoy the kitchen, yet this is supposed to be my birthday shit. I’d rather not break myself in half and end up sick of cooking and cleaning. Well, everything is finished and ready to go for later. Moreover, the salads I made are already at the other house because of our fridge issue. I wish the morning had progressed differently; I wish I could feel differently. Everything turns bad given enough time. I’ve never had so much difficulty dealing with visions of the film industry or memories of when all my favorite places were still in operation. Everything seems too far advanced for the amount of years that have passed since certain businesses and restaurants still existed. What I mean to say is that only three years have elapsed since the big electronics stores all closed for good, but society forgets and redevelops so quickly that they seem to have been gone for decades. Completely forgotten. That makes me more sad than angry. I see Jamie’s eyes over there on the right-hand display all big and beautiful, and even she often sends me back in time to when this series first aired nearly twenty-five years ago. Much was different at that time and most of what I enjoyed is gone. This period feels ethereal sometimes because I am so detached from the world as opposed to years ago. I spend ninety-plus percent of my time in this house and garage, only go out when I need to shop or pick up necessities, and remain glued to the same video media day after day. Nothing changes aside from the little details that represent improvements in the house. I have very little family left and barely any contact with them, only speak with a number of people equal to the fingers on one hand, and constantly recall the past and compare everything from that time to the way society and technology have become so clichéd and generic. Recently I went on a tirade about electronics and the way all of the little devices of the past slowly became rolled into one (the smartphone), leaving nothing to the imagination and damned few actually ‘interesting’ or ‘stirring’ new products. All of this relates to the film industry because it is representative of the past; a place to which we cannot return, but one we can visit anytime we wish. Oh, sure... Everything is digitized, yet the process which took place and the magic involved in creating the medium are still apparent. That will never change thanks to the aforementioned high technology. I lament the loss of fascinating products that seemed to peak in the nineties, but at the same time I embrace the highly advanced methods for delivering an endless slough of video media to my televisions out of necessity. Even though I don’t like the path electronic products has taken throughout the past fifteen years, I need what I need, and that means something capable of delivering content which has become critical to my being comfortable. In short, I feel disdain for progress but am a slave to it anyway. I can’t disconnect because this is what I’ve become... A person in dire need of familiar comfort. I feel the way I feel for good reason. That is not to say I am strong enough to truly push away everything with which I disagree. Ugh. The logos in the previous entry were captured from a handful of films (FILMS, mind you; not digital media) which spanned a period from the mid-nineties right up to less than five years ago, all of them having utilized a similar process (Panavision) due to the way the filmmaker feels toward the advancement of the industry. I wanted to show them off because when I watch the credits of many older films crawl up the screen, eventually the logos slowly appear and I end up with a few tears in my eyes. The one image which stands out from the rest is here, and was actually used just nine years ago after having been all but abandoned due to difficult processing, mastering and projection. Theatres opted for a more standardized system, meaning the larger, heavier film began to disappear. The advent of anamorphic lenses decades ago represents the beginning of the larger process’ scarcity in later years. I still can’t believe he stuck to his guns and shot a film on such large stock. It’s magical to know someone out there feels as I do (and has the resources and connections to actually use the fucking equipment), and rather than placing the logo at the end of the credits, it is displayed prominently during the opening sequence just moments into the film. Amazing. Well, it is below if anyone gives half a shit. The film industry is soon going to represent the lion’s share of my slow decline. Believe it. The only way it can take a back seat to other information and memories is for me to go into more details and stories from the glowing years. The practice of describing that era is not good for my mental stability. I should do my best to leave it alone. Film is another story. I can’t fucking help it. Enter shit situation number two... I was afraid of change; afraid to be in certain places among certain people. I needed to be comfortable as often as possible because shit situation number two left me very sensitive and fearful of any scene which required me to be forthright or overly exposed in social situations. I never took a leap to see if working in the film industry was possible for me. No, I did not wish to be a big movie star. I only wanted to be a part of the process of creating the magic I loved so much (remember Margot’s quote?). Notoriety was another story, although seeing my name included in the ‘credits crawl’ was a definite goal. Not for fame, however. Only for myself... To be one of THEM. I just wanted to be part of the fucking thing. But I was afraid to reach in any direction without some level of guaranteed comfort in life (which I already had in good measure). Shit situation number two effectively removed my ability to build confidence in myself. I had information, references, and help in finding my way to the first fucking step, but could not take it. I was afraid. There you go. This is not the end of the subject, either. I just need a pause. I wish I could take issue with the people responsible for that fucking incident. Nope. Today is Saturday and I don’t have a lot of responsibilities. A dinner in my honor will be taking place early this afternoon, too. Tomorrow is the championship and I already agreed to watch it with a few others, meaning my Sunday business will have to be in and around that period of time. All this shit adds up to the fact that Monday morning will feel very good; nice and quiet with little taxing of my time. I need that after all of the birthday guff. I appreciate others’ wishes to ensure I have a good time, but after days of it I could use a break (for about a year). The morning is moving along because the progression of time is unalterable. That means I’ll have to move away from this crap at some point – perhaps like most days when the coffee is gone – and head into the housework with my extended family in the background. As much as I’d like to dive into other projects these days, the fact of my mental stability has affected me to the point of rendering most activities outside the necessities almost completely unimportant. My level of caring about everyday items continues to diminish. This is not good. When I have a bad day, I tend to move toward something that will put a smile on my face for a little while, and most often that is a movie. And then when the credits finish their crawl up the screen, I fall down and become very sad. The process is a circle, much like almost everything else in my life these days. I have responsibilities which have yet to be shirked, honestly. As of this very moment, I’ve not pushed anything aside that needed to be accomplished to ensure smooth operation of the household. I don’t know from where the motivation comes, although I do have an inkling that it’s due to my need for that very same fucking comfort, and it may have become the end result (and reward) of everything I do around this house. That would not be surprising. I am having more trouble living day-to-day than ever before, yet I suppose I’m still capable of accomplishing certain things. I guess. I don’t fucking know. Later. The morning routine has been completed and I have a nice, fat glass of whiskey sitting here on the table. I need it, and in saying so may be an announcement of an addiction. Wonderful. Run with it. Tell someone who may care. I don’t. Even considering all the shit in my head and fears up the ass, I still have a few devices which I can embrace that no one can alter regardless of their stance or reason. As for plans from here forward, I am going to take it easy for a while, shower, and then make revolutions for heading four miles up the highway for an early dinner. Upon returning home, I’ll be in typical form... Comfortable and warm. The former has been waning of late, but there is still some measure available when I need it most. Today is as such. My entire fucking life has been reduced to comfort, agreeable meals, media and alcohol. Isn’t that just peachy? I will continue to embrace all four until my condition worsens. There is nothing else left in my universe. Beauty and desire have been violently ripped away, possibly never to return. When production ceases, don’t ask questions. Curious... I’ve gone on at length regarding the film industry and the logos which stir my heart like nothing else in the world, yet I have rarely gone into the audio aspect of the same. Hmm. I may have to address that soon. In the meantime, familiarize yourself with the terms ‘Dolby Stereo’ (not stereo as you may know it) and ‘THX’ (and don’t forget timbre-matching, re-equalization, and the like). The advent of THX was an unparalleled era in the advancement of filmmaking and cinema audio reproduction. Don’t fucking get me started. Audio arguments are often moot points due to my age and diminishing hearing capacity. Laugh it up. No one cares. I am beginning to loosen and feel a tad reckless. Maybe I should move the cars, drop my hinged clothing rack and begin some dry cleaning with a mass of loud music in the garage. Hmm. I’ll have to think about that one for a few minutes. I did it. A bit of music and some organization helped me to feel more alive. Afterward, we took off for dinner and then visited the bar to speak with a couple we’ve not seen for years. That was ok. Arriving home was even better. The issue now – today being Sunday – is that I am scheduled to watch the championship this afternoon and do not feel like being around other people today. The visit last night was fine. It may have affected my ability to blend again, though. Twice in one week is a lot, the same in the space of as many days is much more. I don’t think I can deal with it today and have felt as much since early this morning. I’ll have to remain inside my comfort zone, and if my decision disappoints others, well... I can’t deal with that. There is already quite enough for me to push around each day. They are less important. Moreover, I saw Noelle last night and the sight of her caused my brain to slide sideways for a little while. The aftereffects of seeing that kind of beauty often last for days, meaning I need to avoid being in public for a while. I have to remove her from my head. I know some of the guys will be irritated that I won’t be there for such an important game, but they’re just going to have to deal with it. Number one comes first. Enjoying the logos? I’ll be in the middle of all my devices today thanks to the decision to remain home. My shows, some garbage and laundry work, and perhaps a little organization in the office and dining rooms will keep me busy for quite a while. I still have to plan for the refrigerator swap in two days. Having enough time for me to fully think through the operation will smooth out Tuesday’s delivery. I am really looking forward to having a new fridge, as well, and that is from the standpoint of the different configuration. A side-by-side will be a welcome addition over the top-mount freezer. The design is much more friendly. Perhaps I can work toward that end later today. There is a list of movies that I should avoid and I have known as much for years. One stands out because it limits (or sometimes removes) my ability to face reality without feeling as if the world is actually going to end any second. After watching those credits crawl up the screen, I fall pretty hard and cannot do anything for hours. The depression that is constantly hanging over my head completely engulfs my being and disallows any positivity whatsoever. All of that shit takes place not because of my love and subsequent feelings that I’ve permanently lost the chance to be a part of the film industry, but due to the nature of my view of myself. I’m not going to go into that, however, because I can’t have such a horrible mood take over on a Sunday morning. The other movies either represent certain periods or conjure memories of seeing them for the first time – the most important aspect – and with whom I watched. Several of the logos I captured and included on the site are from a few films that I should not be watching, ever. The industry is very different from thirty-plus years ago and that is to be expected. The trouble is that many of the inner workings did not fully change until the late aughts and into the teens, meaning had I taken myself out of the fear and tried, I could have experienced something wonderful before it disappeared. Perhaps then I would not have to avoid certain movies for self-protection. The ‘golden’ era is irrelevant here because it began to decline before I was born. The simple fact is I feel that I honestly did not have a real chance of doing anything. That possibility was removed from my life, along with something else that still hurts to this very moment. I am going to avoid commenting upon the ‘studio’ system or era because my fascination is with vastly different processes. Whatever. Sometimes I don’t feel that saying anything will do any good in the world, but for whatever reason I can’t seem to stop typing. Something wonderful transpired a few minutes ago; Monday morning. Something I can’t even describe. Yesterday was extremely difficult for two reasons. The first was yet another series of aftereffects from situation number one. Big fucking surprise. The second caught me off-guard because I actually felt emotions attached to what has been changing throughout the last couple of years. Right now is not a good time for anything to add more sadness to my existence, not to mention the wondrous incident a few moments back that stirred me more than anything else in recent memory. I am so fucking sad and angry that I can barely see straight. This morning is peaceful and quiet – plus I have all day to care for whatever seems best – but on the inside I am torn to shreds and no amount of quiet or freedom of time is going to alleviate the pain enough for me to function like a real person. My behavior lately has been held together with strength from someplace I can’t describe. I don’t have a lot of choices these days if I’m to enjoy certain aspects of living, meaning I have to be able to appear as if things are fine on the inside and not allow any of the shit to show through my facade. The morning difficulty has been around for a very long time – decades, really – so I am at least accustomed to these feelings, yet when combined with the failed fantasy and having ‘been there’ plus realizing I can’t be there anymore, the truth is that once I begin to slide downhill, a large portion of my psyche is determined to end everything so I don’t have to feel this way anymore. As of yet, I can’t see another way out of this shit. Oh, sure... By some fucking miracle, I could run across a situation which may help me to feel better, but the odds are astronomical. I am not kidding. I’ve changed over the last several years. Everything is very specific and would be extremely difficult for anyone else to understand, let alone a woman. I’ve been trying for too long for the world to feel positive at all. The wonderful little things are going to continue because I am a fucking weak idiot, and each will steamroll me more than the last. I can’t help myself anymore. I need to see. Not a good day. I like Mondays because I have the time and space to consider whatever is best to carry me through to the evening, yet at the same time, the aforementioned heartache and such continues to plague me and push me in only one mental direction. The only positive right now is the fact that I just began watching the third series again. The rotation is complete, for now. And I need to remain mindful of the order, for crying out loud... Three, four, two, five and then one. The last rotation was incorrect, but now I am certain I won’t forget again. This is very important to me. I even began to record when each series begins. I may be a visual, spatial thinker, yet those people are my favorite in the world and I need them to be there for the rest of my life in the proper order. Taking notes regarding the beginning time and date for each program is something that came about just after the pandemic began. I still don’t know why. Maybe it’s nothing more than a hobby or distraction. I am so far down that anything with the ability to bring even the slightest smile is critical right now. The morning has been a disaster. My routine is out of the way and I have plenty of time for whatever. One more day has disappeared. The refrigerator is scheduled to be delivered later today. I already moved the old one to the garage and powered it. What little is in there must be kept cool. I am looking forward to setting up the new unit and getting everything organized. Traveling back and forth to the garage while cooking is beginning to get old. Heh. Anyway, I should have everything in order by tonight. Moving all that shit out there yesterday and then cleaning the floor were two very big steps and I’m pleased with the results. At some point I’ll do a little touch-up prior to moving the new fridge into place. Other than the delivery, I have few plans for today. I’d like to take it easy and think about everything for a while. Something inside my head is very off-kilter. I know of the turning point a couple of years ago which was initiated by the first damaging dream, but I did not believe the feelings would run rampant and cause all sorts of insane situations to develop in my brain. I just didn’t think such a circumstance was possible. Cut to two years later (I believe) and my head runs all over the map and has caused me to unleash a few devices that remained uninvolved prior to the dreams. Don’t try to understand me, either, because you won’t get near the actual facts. This is for me. I have to lay down a few ideas in order to attempt understanding of the way my mind works these days. I wish I could convey the sheer power of the process inside me. They are unreal and related to an aspect of living that I never could have predicted. This is insane, yet as long as everything remains status quo, I need not be concerned for the future. All I want to do is understand. Now, there is one possible catalyst for this situation, and it is the failure (failed) from seventeen that I tried to outline, and the actual realization that there was a failure which came about last year. Two painful changes in life that seem like natural causes for the way I feel right now. Or, they could simply be unrelated and come up in my thoughts often due to how empty I feel all the time. In any case, I’ve swung the beam in directions previously ignored in life. I know that what I outlined in seventeen came together after years of considering such things, and the more time that passed, the more my head went all over the fucking map in order to be comfortable in life. The downside is nothing really happened. I created a fucking situation out of thin air at one point, too, yet just like everything else that I lament, my feelings created nothing more than additional problems. I suppose there is no way around the problems anymore because as I age, my head sees society differently. That is an axiom. My feelings this morning could very well have begun in seventeen because that was the first time that I actually complained about personal matters. And now I must (at long last) employ a descriptor to a part of my current condition which has been avoided for ten fucking years. This is unfair. Oh, I’ve shit all over people and fucked up aplenty, but the bottom line is that there were two Goddamned incidents far beyond my control, trivialized here and there, and I was left to deal with feelings I did not understand. Little did I know, but those two – when combined – would soon ruin my ability to allow anyone inside and force my hand when it came to dealing with any type of fear. I am sitting at this fucking table due to them. Unfair. But, wait... Aren’t I supposed to be in touch with everything and rise above so life can be fully embraced? Yeah... You fucking do that. I’ve been unable for thirty years. All the way back to a tiny sliver of time in eighty-eight... Doomed and beyond control. Now look at me. I’m like that guy in the insane asylum you may have seen in a movie; the one who has a pencil and constantly writes on the walls and then watches his work accomplish nothing. Splendid. Unfair is the word and I finally agree, for the most part. I’ve made my share of mistakes and I know it, but I didn’t cause everything. Today is Tuesday. Other than the delivery, the name of the day is meaningless. I’ll take care of the usual stuff and then continue with some laundry work. If my head remains sideways, I won’t accomplish much. This entire situation makes me very sad, but at least there is less anger inside than usual. Later. I emptied the old fridge and it is ready to be picked up. After tracking the vehicle that is carrying my new appliance, I saw that the number of stops is displayed, meaning I’ll be able to pinpoint their arrival. I still need to move a few items in the living room to clear space for rolling the fridge into the kitchen. The doors will need to be removed, as well, but that process will take place in the garage. My daily routine is out of the way, as well. I’m not going to get into anything else until the fridge is in place and cooling. I have to leave the time available to avoid any issues. Third season Jamie is gracing the right-hand display and I will refrain from making lovie-dovie comments about her unparalleled beauty. Maybe I just did the opposite. I love her more than I could ever convey here. The next day has arrived on the heels of gusting winds. There is a massive storm system heading this way. It is predicted to hit several hours from now, meaning I’ll have to batten down the hatches prior to the rain. No big deal. As for the fridge concerns from yesterday, the delivery guys had the unit out of the truck, unpacked and completely installed in just over twenty minutes. They even leveled the unit and hauled away all of the packaging, not to mention the old fridge. I just stood there and held the door open. Heh. Anyway, the new fridge is running quietly and everything is once again cool and protected. I am supposed to receive a survey sometime today and fully intend to give their crew a glowing review. I’m glad everything worked out fine. Too bad my mental condition can’t benefit from a new appliance. Ugh. I really don’t like feeling this way. At least I have the entire day ahead. Peace and quiet cannot be overstated these days. I’m pleased that I don’t have anywhere to be today because as the clock progresses, the weather will become increasingly violent. I can see the wind blowing some drizzle right now, in fact. Ooh-fa. The wind is out of control already. I went to the garage to get the laundry going earlier than planned just in case the power is cut off, plus I grabbed some crap from the backyard that needs to dry so I can cut it to pieces and dispose of everything in the trash this week. My head is going sideways as expected. I’ll have to keep busy once the coffee is gone in order to alleviate this mass of lost feelings. I have never felt so alone. Housework is often all I have to pass the time. Well, I do need to ensure all of the batteries are charged so I can enjoy my shows on the phone, if necessary. I always find a way to that little slice of comfort no matter the circumstances. I was there, in spades. Now all I have are memories and rare references to places I’ll probably never see again. I was right where I needed to be and knew it because of a measure of understanding. Nothing is left. Memories. This is going to worsen and eventually force my hand. I don’t fucking need this kind of shit in my life. There are plenty of other factors pushing me down every day. One reference that continues to come to mind is recent and stark. Sometime last year I went on a tirade regarding a process that I have never fully understood, felt from time to time (completely unexpected, of course) and have seen within society in the past. I can’t go into detail, but suffice to say that the recent reference is related to this process. Moreover, if my understanding is correct, the reference topic in question could save my life. Unfortunately, there can be no guarantees whatsoever, only risk. The most likely outcome from all this crap is that nothing will change and I’ll be perched here for the duration. Splendid. Do I have hope? Not very much. Faith in anything these days is more of a stretch than the idea of me growing wings and flying the coop. I must say that the information stirred me for a few minutes. This, too, shall pass. Everything is just so fucking sad anymore. As I said before, I was there. ‘Take that off. Now take the other one off. Now put the first one back on.’ Thank you and have a marvelous day. I really hope a power outage doesn’t impact the washer or dryer. I have plenty of room to hang clothes for drying, but it’s rather a pain in the ass. Maybe I should have taken care of this yesterday. Jesus do I ever feel like shit today. The laundry is moving along very well and should be finished prior to the increased winds. I’ll move away from this very soon and take care of some housework (along with a fucking drink). I’d like to get my office in order, as well. I suppose my feelings have to be shoved to the rear, like always. Wonderful. I don’t fucking matter anymore. Maybe I never did. The laundry is almost complete. I have the laptop charging in case of an outage, and between that machine and my phone, the media will keep me company should the need arise. I also have all of the auxiliary batteries charged. Very good. I don’t care if the wind and flood of the century slam this house. I need my friends to be there no matter the circumstances. The power and wireless Internet connection can disappear and I will still be with them, thank the maker. I just... Need them. I have little else left in the world. The memories have been slamming me today. I remember too much sometimes and end up sitting here unable to move in any direction for any reason. Not good. I truly wish I could lay out some details because the entire years-long picture would come into focus. I can’t do that. I have to protect myself from harmful words or judgments. Jamie’s eyes are so huge that I almost can’t look at her. Damn. It hurts so deeply to see them. Would she understand me? Would she make all the bad go away? Can anyone? I have dreams of such a thing taking place... A feeling that the woman staring into my eyes actually does know everything, yet reality is not so pleasant. And I cannot count on both hands the number of dreams that led me to believe that I would be ok; I would survive because of ‘her’. Well, where is she? I remember some occasions when I thought I had found a path out of this shit, yet every single fucking one of them turned to ash soon enough. People think that all of my artwork and lighting in the garage are there for entertainment. Nope. The more I sit here and wallow in sadness and loss, the more anger I feel. Anger leads me to artwork, the latest of which is in mind and soon to be built out there. I am fucking empty. Everything I do is empty. I feel emptiness. Loneliness. Sadness. The only productive emotion I experience anymore is anger. At least it gets me through most days. When I sit here and recall being ‘there’ and all of the beauty attached to it, I can’t help but think that the nature of life just didn’t include any other options for me. And before you give me a blast of shit about other people in the world being much worse off than myself, allow me to relieve you of the burden. I already know. The truth is I can’t do much about it and have to put my own life first. There is another axiom for you. Swallow it with a sip of water and then go fuck yourself. I am still trying, too. If I wasn’t, this endeavor would be offline. I am dealing with the memories as well as can be expected. I am still breathing. I have no faith that ‘she’ actually exists. So sad. My future hinges on the possibility, yet the truth is I already know. Nothing is out there. Quite the reverse of all those entries ending in the opposite. This is the most downtrodden and debilitating condition I’ve ever felt. If ‘this’ is all ‘there is’, why am I still typing? Hope? Faith? YOU make the call. I don’t have the fucking answer. Perhaps the little enjoyments are still holding fast to the cause. ‘You invite some stray dog over here?’ ‘You short of food?’ The film industry, big electronics stores, technology... Everything is gone or otherwise made generic and uninteresting. I fucking hate this era. Oh, there are little positives here and there, but I’d happily toss them all into the ocean for five minutes of the way things were. Five fucking minutes. Believe it. ‘You can push a man only so far.’ 'True.’ Really? Is that wisdom? I don’t believe it. Perhaps commenting upon what I hear during the media should be avoided. The laundry is finished. Wow. How did I do that? My level of caring is at an all-time low. I guess the old need to feel somewhat accomplished by close of business hours still keeps some things moving. I don’t know. My instinct is to do nothing but sit here and think. The word ‘recovery’ just popped into my head thanks to the program running right now. I don’t understand why people don’t fucking understand. Some aspects of the video media are not believable, and I don’t mean science fiction or anything of the like. Just life itself. I don’t fucking get it and have been in the minority on this issue for a very long time. ‘Recovery’ does not seem to apply to anyone but me, or perhaps I truly have lost my mind. No one is listening. No one hears me. No one is there. As for the housework, I believe the subject matter here combined with a horrible morning mood have disallowed anything further today. Oksana occasionally looks cross-eyed, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Nothing takes away from her beautiful eyes. Ugh. This just keeps rolling along; rolling right over me. Everything else in the world is uninteresting. Splendid. This paragraph was derailed. Big surprise. I can rarely keep this train on the track anymore. My mind is all over the place because the slightest reference to the reference will immediately take over my thinking processes and leave me unable to move in any positive direction. Reminders abound. I am not suggesting that my abilities are gone, only that it doesn’t take much to send me off the track and into terrible places. That type of thing has been on and off for a few days now and I am fucking sick of it. But? I am also powerless in life. Insignificant. Empty. The way I see the world and all of the people populating it has changed so dramatically in the last few years that I am surprised to be able to speak to anyone, even briefly. Believe me... You don’t want to know. At least the laundry is finished. I have no interest in anything else right now. Ah... Here is yet another scene that forces me to wonder why people don’t fucking understand. I am very sensitive, but at the same time I am not sensitive to others anymore. I have little regard for people. My devices mean more to me than they do. ‘Recovery’ is apparent as this series of shots plays out, and very little of it means a damned thing to the whole of society. That is fucking sad. Call me what you will. This is about as good as it gets these days. And like most of life anymore, I fucking hate this shit. I may be destined to remain this way. I cannot influence the vane. Wow... The wind is gusting pretty heavily. I’m glad I don’t have to go anywhere. My garage door has been closed all day, too. Everything in the backyard is in order, so hopefully nothing will be damaged by this weather. The tree in the front was pruned back to only limbs last year. No worries there. My repair of the patio cover is solid, as well. Other than some flooding and standing water in the back, the storm should pass by without issue. I still feel like crap. Not surprising. I feel like crap most of the time. This is a bad fucking time. Period. Each day is just a touch worse than the last, and those little enjoyments are waning. I feel like a person whose tide is receding, never to return. The reference is weighing on my mind this afternoon, meaning the vane will not respect my feelings. I need to be there again... Two specific occasions always come to mind and drive me in such a direction. I just can’t help it anymore. The memories of so many things – all of them gone for good – cut me to ribbons inside every day. Being there is most decidedly at the top of the list of losses. I was there. I remember. The two occasions cannot be brought here with any measure of detail. Just know that I think of them almost constantly, and even more now that the reference came along. I really didn’t need that shit, although I understand the genesis. The thoughts have been stirring me for some time now and I see only more damage as a result. Nothing good. The rain is falling heavily and blowing sideways right now. Business hours are nearly closed, so I’ll probably move away from this machine very soon and relax for a while. Dinner will be very simple tonight. Just leftovers, thanks to the new refrigerator (which is wonderful, by the way). 'Zizmareth'. Just a thought. As you can see by the way this entry is displayed, the film industry continues to draw my attention, as does my inability to attempt to enter that dreamy place. Very few people understand how I feel, as well. That certainly doesn’t help matters. I try to talk about it and then others look at me as if it is nothing more than a hobby. Well, it is not. The industry is a way of life and pulls me nearly as much as the search for the right type of understanding. ‘Her’. Yesterday was not good. Sure, the refrigerator is looking better and better, I finished a bunch of laundry, and all of my typical chores were completed in good time. The problem was the reference and reminders of where I used to reside (and those places more elusive than a winning lottery ticket). I was there, as I’ve stated on multiple occasions, and sitting here right now considering how things have changed – LIFE has changed – throughout the last couple of years is beginning to feel like another hand on my back... Helping me along a negative pathway. Last night I was commenting upon one of my many trips to the goblet, and as I spoke and attempted to craft my sentences in a respectful, often funny manner, all those things I didn’t say were as plentiful as everything I did say. Heh. My past is littered with bad decisions and cold, unfeeling behavior connected to my innate ability to completely disregard everything in the world and maintain focus on my own needs, yet the little stories rarely go into such sordid territory. There were moments aplenty related to nothing more than food, drink, atmosphere and travel. Moreover, I’ve lodged at some pretty lavish locations. So, the stories are generally positive and humorous, the downside being the processes at work inside me as I recall being ‘there’; knowing that the time was short (late) and I had to soak up the feelings while they lasted. Well, they never lasted very long. Everyone eventually told me to go home and live, mostly because I had been traveling and trying to dive into a very specific type of comfort for almost all of the wrong reasons. Almost. There were always two main issues driving me away from everyday life and into the arms of someone who might listen. In any case, by the time I was finished with my little anecdotal observations about Vegas, there was a mass of imagery in my brain that quickly reminded me that my life may already be over... Images of that ‘place’; certain faces and smiles, as well as the knowledge that I could not be found. I was ‘there’. The critical aspects of that place shall remain veiled, however. Sometimes I have trouble telling stories because I’m uncertain of how much detail might be acceptable depending upon my audience. Last night I left out being with people while in the goblet. I only spoke of the weather and some parts of my visits that were difficult. While there with Andrea, for example, our time comprised nine nights at the Venetian with a flight in the middle of all that. I had a hell of a time trying to maintain organization of my funds and had to visit the bank on a few occasions to ensure that my cards would always have a high ceiling. I did not want our adventure to be interrupted. That means a small part of my brain was dedicated to keeping track of everything even though Andrea and I seemed to be completely flighty and reckless. I don’t know if my stories are funny anymore, but sometimes there is a reminder that presses me to share and try to get a laugh. And then? I fall off a cliff again because during many of those trips I was right fucking ‘there’. Now I have almost nothing. Hopefully I can still entertain others with my questionable way of life. I guess that’s better than nothing. Maybe I should have run away with the Raven for a weekend or more. Everything turned to shit that year, anyway. We could have soaked up some comfort for a few days. Had we decided to be that reckless, at least I would have another memory right now. That’s not funny. She is as gone as my belief in happiness. ‘It is better to have loved and lost...’ Bullshit. If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t know. Get it? Fuck off. Today is Thursday and I have zero obligations. I almost had to take the drive to the big City this morning but I ended up successfully derailing the plan in order to remain in what has likely become the only place left in the world where I am halfway comfortable. Is this process of writing, editing and publishing the reason I am still alive? I don’t know. It sure as hell isn’t frozen pizza. The vane pays no mind. Figures. Nothing does. I should know better after all these years. I was right there and I knew it, yet there was always a dark, negative cloud overhead despite the wondrous feelings. The cloud never went away. Oh, there were a few occasions, like arriving in Vegas after running my ass out of Pensacola, when the cloud disappeared, but the lion’s share of time spent where I so badly needed to be was shrouded in pain and loss; possibilities of disaster and heartache. Am I asking too much of the world? Of life? I hadn’t thought along those lines in the past, and only recently has my brain computed that some of the reasoning behind my shitty situation is my own doing. Yes, of course I’ve fucked up over and over, yet the underlying causes – the roots of this hellish tree that were in place long before I decided that things have become completely unfair – can’t fucking be denied at all, ever. And I didn’t even employ the term ‘unfair’ until a day or two back. That’s it. No matter which path I follow through time, I keep coming to the same conclusion... I was treated very badly during a critically formative period and then left alone without recourse or understanding. That is what grieves me the most. Too bad I can’t take this shit out on those responsible. Ugh. Next thought. This is too much right now. I have coffee and my show on the right-hand display, like most mornings. Sometime after I publish this crap, I’ll see about taking care of a few things around the house and garage. The weather is calm right now, so hopefully I can take care of some annoying leftovers and feel better later. I have to do something or the memories of that beautiful place will stifle any efforts. Moving forward is hardly possible anymore. My moves are all lateral. Jamie just received some bad news and her big, beautiful eyes welled up with tears. I wish I could hold her. Or, better yet, the reverse. I need ‘her’ even though ‘she’ is not Jamie. Whatever. This is going to confuse me very soon. Anyway, I’m glad the weather is a bit warmer and drier than yesterday. I moved some of the old lumber out of the backyard so it remains dry. Maybe I can cut up some of it today. My garage is in need of assistance and has been fluid ever since I built those big dining room cabinets. Caring for that area is a slow process because it need not be quick. I have lots of time. Well, I really don’t know how much time I have left. That is impossible to predict. There is no way of knowing if this endeavor is making a difference inside me. I have to stop the vane and try another. This one is going nowhere." 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
The Kept Vane Mature content No. 399 Published February 1st, 2024 8:21am pst read ( words) Past entries "Nothing ends, indeed. Much like this drivel. Yesterday was not the best, beginning with a shitty morning and then ending with me working in the kitchen on and off for hours. I do enjoy the kitchen, yet this is supposed to be my birthday shit. I’d rather not break myself in half and end up sick of cooking and cleaning. Well, everything is finished and ready to go for later. Moreover, the salads I made are already at the other house because of our fridge issue. I wish the morning had progressed differently; I wish I could feel differently. Everything turns bad given enough time. I’ve never had so much difficulty dealing with visions of the film industry or memories of when all my favorite places were still in operation. Everything seems too far advanced for the amount of years that have passed since certain businesses and restaurants still existed. What I mean to say is that only three years have elapsed since the big electronics stores all closed for good, but society forgets and redevelops so quickly that they seem to have been gone for decades. Completely forgotten. That makes me more sad than angry. I see Jamie’s eyes over there on the right-hand display all big and beautiful, and even she often sends me back in time to when this series first aired nearly twenty-five years ago. Much was different at that time and most of what I enjoyed is gone. This period feels ethereal sometimes because I am so detached from the world as opposed to years ago. I spend ninety-plus percent of my time in this house and garage, only go out when I need to shop or pick up necessities, and remain glued to the same video media day after day. Nothing changes aside from the little details that represent improvements in the house. I have very little family left and barely any contact with them, only speak with a number of people equal to the fingers on one hand, and constantly recall the past and compare everything from that time to the way society and technology have become so clichéd and generic. Recently I went on a tirade about electronics and the way all of the little devices of the past slowly became rolled into one (the smartphone), leaving nothing to the imagination and damned few actually ‘interesting’ or ‘stirring’ new products. All of this relates to the film industry because it is representative of the past; a place to which we cannot return, but one we can visit anytime we wish. Oh, sure... Everything is digitized, yet the process which took place and the magic involved in creating the medium are still apparent. That will never change thanks to the aforementioned high technology. I lament the loss of fascinating products that seemed to peak in the nineties, but at the same time I embrace the highly advanced methods for delivering an endless slough of video media to my televisions out of necessity. Even though I don’t like the path electronic products has taken throughout the past fifteen years, I need what I need, and that means something capable of delivering content which has become critical to my being comfortable. In short, I feel disdain for progress but am a slave to it anyway. I can’t disconnect because this is what I’ve become... A person in dire need of familiar comfort. I feel the way I feel for good reason. That is not to say I am strong enough to truly push away everything with which I disagree. Ugh. The logos in the previous entry were captured from a handful of films (FILMS, mind you; not digital media) which spanned a period from the mid-nineties right up to less than five years ago, all of them having utilized a similar process (Panavision) due to the way the filmmaker feels toward the advancement of the industry. I wanted to show them off because when I watch the credits of many older films crawl up the screen, eventually the logos slowly appear and I end up with a few tears in my eyes. The one image which stands out from the rest is here, and was actually used just nine years ago after having been all but abandoned due to difficult processing, mastering and projection. Theatres opted for a more standardized system, meaning the larger, heavier film began to disappear. The advent of anamorphic lenses decades ago represents the beginning of the larger process’ scarcity in later years. I still can’t believe he stuck to his guns and shot a film on such large stock. It’s magical to know someone out there feels as I do (and has the resources and connections to actually use the fucking equipment), and rather than placing the logo at the end of the credits, it is displayed prominently during the opening sequence just moments into the film. Amazing. Well, it is below if anyone gives half a shit. The film industry is soon going to represent the lion’s share of my slow decline. Believe it. The only way it can take a back seat to other information and memories is for me to go into more details and stories from the glowing years. The practice of describing that era is not good for my mental stability. I should do my best to leave it alone. Film is another story. I can’t fucking help it. Enter shit situation number two... I was afraid of change; afraid to be in certain places among certain people. I needed to be comfortable as often as possible because shit situation number two left me very sensitive and fearful of any scene which required me to be forthright or overly exposed in social situations. I never took a leap to see if working in the film industry was possible for me. No, I did not wish to be a big movie star. I only wanted to be a part of the process of creating the magic I loved so much (remember Margot’s quote?). Notoriety was another story, although seeing my name included in the ‘credits crawl’ was a definite goal. Not for fame, however. Only for myself... To be one of THEM. I just wanted to be part of the fucking thing. But I was afraid to reach in any direction without some level of guaranteed comfort in life (which I already had in good measure). Shit situation number two effectively removed my ability to build confidence in myself. I had information, references, and help in finding my way to the first fucking step, but could not take it. I was afraid. There you go. This is not the end of the subject, either. I just need a pause. I wish I could take issue with the people responsible for that fucking incident. Nope. Today is Saturday and I don’t have a lot of responsibilities. A dinner in my honor will be taking place early this afternoon, too. Tomorrow is the championship and I already agreed to watch it with a few others, meaning my Sunday business will have to be in and around that period of time. All this shit adds up to the fact that Monday morning will feel very good; nice and quiet with little taxing of my time. I need that after all of the birthday guff. I appreciate others’ wishes to ensure I have a good time, but after days of it I could use a break (for about a year). The morning is moving along because the progression of time is unalterable. That means I’ll have to move away from this crap at some point – perhaps like most days when the coffee is gone – and head into the housework with my extended family in the background. As much as I’d like to dive into other projects these days, the fact of my mental stability has affected me to the point of rendering most activities outside the necessities almost completely unimportant. My level of caring about everyday items continues to diminish. This is not good. When I have a bad day, I tend to move toward something that will put a smile on my face for a little while, and most often that is a movie. And then when the credits finish their crawl up the screen, I fall down and become very sad. The process is a circle, much like almost everything else in my life these days. I have responsibilities which have yet to be shirked, honestly. As of this very moment, I’ve not pushed anything aside that needed to be accomplished to ensure smooth operation of the household. I don’t know from where the motivation comes, although I do have an inkling that it’s due to my need for that very same fucking comfort, and it may have become the end result (and reward) of everything I do around this house. That would not be surprising. I am having more trouble living day-to-day than ever before, yet I suppose I’m still capable of accomplishing certain things. I guess. I don’t fucking know. Later. The morning routine has been completed and I have a nice, fat glass of whiskey sitting here on the table. I need it, and in saying so may be an announcement of an addiction. Wonderful. Run with it. Tell someone who may care. I don’t. Even considering all the shit in my head and fears up the ass, I still have a few devices which I can embrace that no one can alter regardless of their stance or reason. As for plans from here forward, I am going to take it easy for a while, shower, and then make revolutions for heading four miles up the highway for an early dinner. Upon returning home, I’ll be in typical form... Comfortable and warm. The former has been waning of late, but there is still some measure available when I need it most. Today is as such. My entire fucking life has been reduced to comfort, agreeable meals, media and alcohol. Isn’t that just peachy? I will continue to embrace all four until my condition worsens. There is nothing else left in my universe. Beauty and desire have been violently ripped away, possibly never to return. When production ceases, don’t ask questions. Curious... I’ve gone on at length regarding the film industry and the logos which stir my heart like nothing else in the world, yet I have rarely gone into the audio aspect of the same. Hmm. I may have to address that soon. In the meantime, familiarize yourself with the terms ‘Dolby Stereo’ (not stereo as you may know it) and ‘THX’ (and don’t forget timbre-matching, re-equalization, and the like). The advent of THX was an unparalleled era in the advancement of filmmaking and cinema audio reproduction. Don’t fucking get me started. Audio arguments are often moot points due to my age and diminishing hearing capacity. Laugh it up. No one cares. I am beginning to loosen and feel a tad reckless. Maybe I should move the cars, drop my hinged clothing rack and begin some dry cleaning with a mass of loud music in the garage. Hmm. I’ll have to think about that one for a few minutes. I did it. A bit of music and some organization helped me to feel more alive. Afterward, we took off for dinner and then visited the bar to speak with a couple we’ve not seen for years. That was ok. Arriving home was even better. The issue now – today being Sunday – is that I am scheduled to watch the championship this afternoon and do not feel like being around other people today. The visit last night was fine. It may have affected my ability to blend again, though. Twice in one week is a lot, the same in the space of as many days is much more. I don’t think I can deal with it today and have felt as much since early this morning. I’ll have to remain inside my comfort zone, and if my decision disappoints others, well... I can’t deal with that. There is already quite enough for me to push around each day. They are less important. Moreover, I saw Noelle last night and the sight of her caused my brain to slide sideways for a little while. The aftereffects of seeing that kind of beauty often last for days, meaning I need to avoid being in public for a while. I have to remove her from my head. I know some of the guys will be irritated that I won’t be there for such an important game, but they’re just going to have to deal with it. Number one comes first. Enjoying the logos? I’ll be in the middle of all my devices today thanks to the decision to remain home. My shows, some garbage and laundry work, and perhaps a little organization in the office and dining rooms will keep me busy for quite a while. I still have to plan for the refrigerator swap in two days. Having enough time for me to fully think through the operation will smooth out Tuesday’s delivery. I am really looking forward to having a new fridge, as well, and that is from the standpoint of the different configuration. A side-by-side will be a welcome addition over the top-mount freezer. The design is much more friendly. Perhaps I can work toward that end later today. There is a list of movies that I should avoid and I have known as much for years. One stands out because it limits (or sometimes removes) my ability to face reality without feeling as if the world is actually going to end any second. After watching those credits crawl up the screen, I fall pretty hard and cannot do anything for hours. The depression that is constantly hanging over my head completely engulfs my being and disallows any positivity whatsoever. All of that shit takes place not because of my love and subsequent feelings that I’ve permanently lost the chance to be a part of the film industry, but due to the nature of my view of myself. I’m not going to go into that, however, because I can’t have such a horrible mood take over on a Sunday morning. The other movies either represent certain periods or conjure memories of seeing them for the first time – the most important aspect – and with whom I watched. Several of the logos I captured and included on the site are from a few films that I should not be watching, ever. The industry is very different from thirty-plus years ago and that is to be expected. The trouble is that many of the inner workings did not fully change until the late aughts and into the teens, meaning had I taken myself out of the fear and tried, I could have experienced something wonderful before it disappeared. Perhaps then I would not have to avoid certain movies for self-protection. The ‘golden’ era is irrelevant here because it began to decline before I was born. The simple fact is I feel that I honestly did not have a real chance of doing anything. That possibility was removed from my life, along with something else that still hurts to this very moment. I am going to avoid commenting upon the ‘studio’ system or era because my fascination is with vastly different processes. Whatever. Sometimes I don’t feel that saying anything will do any good in the world, but for whatever reason I can’t seem to stop typing. Something wonderful transpired a few minutes ago; Monday morning. Something I can’t even describe. Yesterday was extremely difficult for two reasons. The first was yet another series of aftereffects from situation number one. Big fucking surprise. The second caught me off-guard because I actually felt emotions attached to what has been changing throughout the last couple of years. Right now is not a good time for anything to add more sadness to my existence, not to mention the wondrous incident a few moments back that stirred me more than anything else in recent memory. I am so fucking sad and angry that I can barely see straight. This morning is peaceful and quiet – plus I have all day to care for whatever seems best – but on the inside I am torn to shreds and no amount of quiet or freedom of time is going to alleviate the pain enough for me to function like a real person. My behavior lately has been held together with strength from someplace I can’t describe. I don’t have a lot of choices these days if I’m to enjoy certain aspects of living, meaning I have to be able to appear as if things are fine on the inside and not allow any of the shit to show through my facade. The morning difficulty has been around for a very long time – decades, really – so I am at least accustomed to these feelings, yet when combined with the failed fantasy and having ‘been there’ plus realizing I can’t be there anymore, the truth is that once I begin to slide downhill, a large portion of my psyche is determined to end everything so I don’t have to feel this way anymore. As of yet, I can’t see another way out of this shit. Oh, sure... By some fucking miracle, I could run across a situation which may help me to feel better, but the odds are astronomical. I am not kidding. I’ve changed over the last several years. Everything is very specific and would be extremely difficult for anyone else to understand, let alone a woman. I’ve been trying for too long for the world to feel positive at all. The wonderful little things are going to continue because I am a fucking weak idiot, and each will steamroll me more than the last. I can’t help myself anymore. I need to see. Not a good day. I like Mondays because I have the time and space to consider whatever is best to carry me through to the evening, yet at the same time, the aforementioned heartache and such continues to plague me and push me in only one mental direction. The only positive right now is the fact that I just began watching the third series again. The rotation is complete, for now. And I need to remain mindful of the order, for crying out loud... Three, four, two, five and then one. The last rotation was incorrect, but now I am certain I won’t forget again. This is very important to me. I even began to record when each series begins. I may be a visual, spatial thinker, yet those people are my favorite in the world and I need them to be there for the rest of my life in the proper order. Taking notes regarding the beginning time and date for each program is something that came about just after the pandemic began. I still don’t know why. Maybe it’s nothing more than a hobby or distraction. I am so far down that anything with the ability to bring even the slightest smile is critical right now. The morning has been a disaster. My routine is out of the way and I have plenty of time for whatever. One more day has disappeared. The refrigerator is scheduled to be delivered later today. I already moved the old one to the garage and powered it. What little is in there must be kept cool. I am looking forward to setting up the new unit and getting everything organized. Traveling back and forth to the garage while cooking is beginning to get old. Heh. Anyway, I should have everything in order by tonight. Moving all that shit out there yesterday and then cleaning the floor were two very big steps and I’m pleased with the results. At some point I’ll do a little touch-up prior to moving the new fridge into place. Other than the delivery, I have few plans for today. I’d like to take it easy and think about everything for a while. Something inside my head is very off-kilter. I know of the turning point a couple of years ago which was initiated by the first damaging dream, but I did not believe the feelings would run rampant and cause all sorts of insane situations to develop in my brain. I just didn’t think such a circumstance was possible. Cut to two years later (I believe) and my head runs all over the map and has caused me to unleash a few devices that remained uninvolved prior to the dreams. Don’t try to understand me, either, because you won’t get near the actual facts. This is for me. I have to lay down a few ideas in order to attempt understanding of the way my mind works these days. I wish I could convey the sheer power of the process inside me. They are unreal and related to an aspect of living that I never could have predicted. This is insane, yet as long as everything remains status quo, I need not be concerned for the future. All I want to do is understand. Now, there is one possible catalyst for this situation, and it is the failure (failed) from seventeen that I tried to outline, and the actual realization that there was a failure which came about last year. Two painful changes in life that seem like natural causes for the way I feel right now. Or, they could simply be unrelated and come up in my thoughts often due to how empty I feel all the time. In any case, I’ve swung the beam in directions previously ignored in life. I know that what I outlined in seventeen came together after years of considering such things, and the more time that passed, the more my head went all over the fucking map in order to be comfortable in life. The downside is nothing really happened. I created a fucking situation out of thin air at one point, too, yet just like everything else that I lament, my feelings created nothing more than additional problems. I suppose there is no way around the problems anymore because as I age, my head sees society differently. That is an axiom. My feelings this morning could very well have begun in seventeen because that was the first time that I actually complained about personal matters. And now I must (at long last) employ a descriptor to a part of my current condition which has been avoided for ten fucking years. This is unfair. Oh, I’ve shit all over people and fucked up aplenty, but the bottom line is that there were two Goddamned incidents far beyond my control, trivialized here and there, and I was left to deal with feelings I did not understand. Little did I know, but those two – when combined – would soon ruin my ability to allow anyone inside and force my hand when it came to dealing with any type of fear. I am sitting at this fucking table due to them. Unfair. But, wait... Aren’t I supposed to be in touch with everything and rise above so life can be fully embraced? Yeah... You fucking do that. I’ve been unable for thirty years. All the way back to a tiny sliver of time in eighty-eight... Doomed and beyond control. Now look at me. I’m like that guy in the insane asylum you may have seen in a movie; the one who has a pencil and constantly writes on the walls and then watches his work accomplish nothing. Splendid. Unfair is the word and I finally agree, for the most part. I’ve made my share of mistakes and I know it, but I didn’t cause everything. Today is Tuesday. Other than the delivery, the name of the day is meaningless. I’ll take care of the usual stuff and then continue with some laundry work. If my head remains sideways, I won’t accomplish much. This entire situation makes me very sad, but at least there is less anger inside than usual. Later. I emptied the old fridge and it is ready to be picked up. After tracking the vehicle that is carrying my new appliance, I saw that the number of stops is displayed, meaning I’ll be able to pinpoint their arrival. I still need to move a few items in the living room to clear space for rolling the fridge into the kitchen. The doors will need to be removed, as well, but that process will take place in the garage. My daily routine is out of the way, as well. I’m not going to get into anything else until the fridge is in place and cooling. I have to leave the time available to avoid any issues. Third season Jamie is gracing the right-hand display and I will refrain from making lovie-dovie comments about her unparalleled beauty. Maybe I just did the opposite. I love her more than I could ever convey here. The next day has arrived on the heels of gusting winds. There is a massive storm system heading this way. It is predicted to hit several hours from now, meaning I’ll have to batten down the hatches prior to the rain. No big deal. As for the fridge concerns from yesterday, the delivery guys had the unit out of the truck, unpacked and completely installed in just over twenty minutes. They even leveled the unit and hauled away all of the packaging, not to mention the old fridge. I just stood there and held the door open. Heh. Anyway, the new fridge is running quietly and everything is once again cool and protected. I am supposed to receive a survey sometime today and fully intend to give their crew a glowing review. I’m glad everything worked out fine. Too bad my mental condition can’t benefit from a new appliance. Ugh. I really don’t like feeling this way. At least I have the entire day ahead. Peace and quiet cannot be overstated these days. I’m pleased that I don’t have anywhere to be today because as the clock progresses, the weather will become increasingly violent. I can see the wind blowing some drizzle right now, in fact. Ooh-fa. The wind is out of control already. I went to the garage to get the laundry going earlier than planned just in case the power is cut off, plus I grabbed some crap from the backyard that needs to dry so I can cut it to pieces and dispose of everything in the trash this week. My head is going sideways as expected. I’ll have to keep busy once the coffee is gone in order to alleviate this mass of lost feelings. I have never felt so alone. Housework is often all I have to pass the time. Well, I do need to ensure all of the batteries are charged so I can enjoy my shows on the phone, if necessary. I always find a way to that little slice of comfort no matter the circumstances. I was there, in spades. Now all I have are memories and rare references to places I’ll probably never see again. I was right where I needed to be and knew it because of a measure of understanding. Nothing is left. Memories. This is going to worsen and eventually force my hand. I don’t fucking need this kind of shit in my life. There are plenty of other factors pushing me down every day. One reference that continues to come to mind is recent and stark. Sometime last year I went on a tirade regarding a process that I have never fully understood, felt from time to time (completely unexpected, of course) and have seen within society in the past. I can’t go into detail, but suffice to say that the recent reference is related to this process. Moreover, if my understanding is correct, the reference topic in question could save my life. Unfortunately, there can be no guarantees whatsoever, only risk. The most likely outcome from all this crap is that nothing will change and I’ll be perched here for the duration. Splendid. Do I have hope? Not very much. Faith in anything these days is more of a stretch than the idea of me growing wings and flying the coop. I must say that the information stirred me for a few minutes. This, too, shall pass. Everything is just so fucking sad anymore. As I said before, I was there. ‘Take that off. Now take the other one off. Now put the first one back on.’ Thank you and have a marvelous day. I really hope a power outage doesn’t impact the washer or dryer. I have plenty of room to hang clothes for drying, but it’s rather a pain in the ass. Maybe I should have taken care of this yesterday. Jesus do I ever feel like shit today. The laundry is moving along very well and should be finished prior to the increased winds. I’ll move away from this very soon and take care of some housework (along with a fucking drink). I’d like to get my office in order, as well. I suppose my feelings have to be shoved to the rear, like always. Wonderful. I don’t fucking matter anymore. Maybe I never did. The laundry is almost complete. I have the laptop charging in case of an outage, and between that machine and my phone, the media will keep me company should the need arise. I also have all of the auxiliary batteries charged. Very good. I don’t care if the wind and flood of the century slam this house. I need my friends to be there no matter the circumstances. The power and wireless Internet connection can disappear and I will still be with them, thank the maker. I just... Need them. I have little else left in the world. The memories have been slamming me today. I remember too much sometimes and end up sitting here unable to move in any direction for any reason. Not good. I truly wish I could lay out some details because the entire years-long picture would come into focus. I can’t do that. I have to protect myself from harmful words or judgments. Jamie’s eyes are so huge that I almost can’t look at her. Damn. It hurts so deeply to see them. Would she understand me? Would she make all the bad go away? Can anyone? I have dreams of such a thing taking place... A feeling that the woman staring into my eyes actually does know everything, yet reality is not so pleasant. And I cannot count on both hands the number of dreams that led me to believe that I would be ok; I would survive because of ‘her’. Well, where is she? I remember some occasions when I thought I had found a path out of this shit, yet every single fucking one of them turned to ash soon enough. People think that all of my artwork and lighting in the garage are there for entertainment. Nope. The more I sit here and wallow in sadness and loss, the more anger I feel. Anger leads me to artwork, the latest of which is in mind and soon to be built out there. I am fucking empty. Everything I do is empty. I feel emptiness. Loneliness. Sadness. The only productive emotion I experience anymore is anger. At least it gets me through most days. When I sit here and recall being ‘there’ and all of the beauty attached to it, I can’t help but think that the nature of life just didn’t include any other options for me. And before you give me a blast of shit about other people in the world being much worse off than myself, allow me to relieve you of the burden. I already know. The truth is I can’t do much about it and have to put my own life first. There is another axiom for you. Swallow it with a sip of water and then go fuck yourself. I am still trying, too. If I wasn’t, this endeavor would be offline. I am dealing with the memories as well as can be expected. I am still breathing. I have no faith that ‘she’ actually exists. So sad. My future hinges on the possibility, yet the truth is I already know. Nothing is out there. Quite the reverse of all those entries ending in the opposite. This is the most downtrodden and debilitating condition I’ve ever felt. If ‘this’ is all ‘there is’, why am I still typing? Hope? Faith? YOU make the call. I don’t have the fucking answer. Perhaps the little enjoyments are still holding fast to the cause. ‘You invite some stray dog over here?’ ‘You short of food?’ The film industry, big electronics stores, technology... Everything is gone or otherwise made generic and uninteresting. I fucking hate this era. Oh, there are little positives here and there, but I’d happily toss them all into the ocean for five minutes of the way things were. Five fucking minutes. Believe it. ‘You can push a man only so far.’ 'True.’ Really? Is that wisdom? I don’t believe it. Perhaps commenting upon what I hear during the media should be avoided. The laundry is finished. Wow. How did I do that? My level of caring is at an all-time low. I guess the old need to feel somewhat accomplished by close of business hours still keeps some things moving. I don’t know. My instinct is to do nothing but sit here and think. The word ‘recovery’ just popped into my head thanks to the program running right now. I don’t understand why people don’t fucking understand. Some aspects of the video media are not believable, and I don’t mean science fiction or anything of the like. Just life itself. I don’t fucking get it and have been in the minority on this issue for a very long time. ‘Recovery’ does not seem to apply to anyone but me, or perhaps I truly have lost my mind. No one is listening. No one hears me. No one is there. As for the housework, I believe the subject matter here combined with a horrible morning mood have disallowed anything further today. Oksana occasionally looks cross-eyed, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Nothing takes away from her beautiful eyes. Ugh. This just keeps rolling along; rolling right over me. Everything else in the world is uninteresting. Splendid. This paragraph was derailed. Big surprise. I can rarely keep this train on the track anymore. My mind is all over the place because the slightest reference to the reference will immediately take over my thinking processes and leave me unable to move in any positive direction. Reminders abound. I am not suggesting that my abilities are gone, only that it doesn’t take much to send me off the track and into terrible places. That type of thing has been on and off for a few days now and I am fucking sick of it. But? I am also powerless in life. Insignificant. Empty. The way I see the world and all of the people populating it has changed so dramatically in the last few years that I am surprised to be able to speak to anyone, even briefly. Believe me... You don’t want to know. At least the laundry is finished. I have no interest in anything else right now. Ah... Here is yet another scene that forces me to wonder why people don’t fucking understand. I am very sensitive, but at the same time I am not sensitive to others anymore. I have little regard for people. My devices mean more to me than they do. ‘Recovery’ is apparent as this series of shots plays out, and very little of it means a damned thing to the whole of society. That is fucking sad. Call me what you will. This is about as good as it gets these days. And like most of life anymore, I fucking hate this shit. I may be destined to remain this way. I cannot influence the vane. Wow... The wind is gusting pretty heavily. I’m glad I don’t have to go anywhere. My garage door has been closed all day, too. Everything in the backyard is in order, so hopefully nothing will be damaged by this weather. The tree in the front was pruned back to only limbs last year. No worries there. My repair of the patio cover is solid, as well. Other than some flooding and standing water in the back, the storm should pass by without issue. I still feel like crap. Not surprising. I feel like crap most of the time. This is a bad fucking time. Period. Each day is just a touch worse than the last, and those little enjoyments are waning. I feel like a person whose tide is receding, never to return. The reference is weighing on my mind this afternoon, meaning the vane will not respect my feelings. I need to be there again... Two specific occasions always come to mind and drive me in such a direction. I just can’t help it anymore. The memories of so many things – all of them gone for good – cut me to ribbons inside every day. Being there is most decidedly at the top of the list of losses. I was there. I remember. The two occasions cannot be brought here with any measure of detail. Just know that I think of them almost constantly, and even more now that the reference came along. I really didn’t need that shit, although I understand the genesis. The thoughts have been stirring me for some time now and I see only more damage as a result. Nothing good. The rain is falling heavily and blowing sideways right now. Business hours are nearly closed, so I’ll probably move away from this machine very soon and relax for a while. Dinner will be very simple tonight. Just leftovers, thanks to the new refrigerator (which is wonderful, by the way). 'Zizmareth'. Just a thought. As you can see by the way this entry is displayed, the film industry continues to draw my attention, as does my inability to attempt to enter that dreamy place. Very few people understand how I feel, as well. That certainly doesn’t help matters. I try to talk about it and then others look at me as if it is nothing more than a hobby. Well, it is not. The industry is a way of life and pulls me nearly as much as the search for the right type of understanding. ‘Her’. Yesterday was not good. Sure, the refrigerator is looking better and better, I finished a bunch of laundry, and all of my typical chores were completed in good time. The problem was the reference and reminders of where I used to reside (and those places more elusive than a winning lottery ticket). I was there, as I’ve stated on multiple occasions, and sitting here right now considering how things have changed – LIFE has changed – throughout the last couple of years is beginning to feel like another hand on my back... Helping me along a negative pathway. Last night I was commenting upon one of my many trips to the goblet, and as I spoke and attempted to craft my sentences in a respectful, often funny manner, all those things I didn’t say were as plentiful as everything I did say. Heh. My past is littered with bad decisions and cold, unfeeling behavior connected to my innate ability to completely disregard everything in the world and maintain focus on my own needs, yet the little stories rarely go into such sordid territory. There were moments aplenty related to nothing more than food, drink, atmosphere and travel. Moreover, I’ve lodged at some pretty lavish locations. So, the stories are generally positive and humorous, the downside being the processes at work inside me as I recall being ‘there’; knowing that the time was short (late) and I had to soak up the feelings while they lasted. Well, they never lasted very long. Everyone eventually told me to go home and live, mostly because I had been traveling and trying to dive into a very specific type of comfort for almost all of the wrong reasons. Almost. There were always two main issues driving me away from everyday life and into the arms of someone who might listen. In any case, by the time I was finished with my little anecdotal observations about Vegas, there was a mass of imagery in my brain that quickly reminded me that my life may already be over... Images of that ‘place’; certain faces and smiles, as well as the knowledge that I could not be found. I was ‘there’. The critical aspects of that place shall remain veiled, however. Sometimes I have trouble telling stories because I’m uncertain of how much detail might be acceptable depending upon my audience. Last night I left out being with people while in the goblet. I only spoke of the weather and some parts of my visits that were difficult. While there with Andrea, for example, our time comprised nine nights at the Venetian with a flight in the middle of all that. I had a hell of a time trying to maintain organization of my funds and had to visit the bank on a few occasions to ensure that my cards would always have a high ceiling. I did not want our adventure to be interrupted. That means a small part of my brain was dedicated to keeping track of everything even though Andrea and I seemed to be completely flighty and reckless. I don’t know if my stories are funny anymore, but sometimes there is a reminder that presses me to share and try to get a laugh. And then? I fall off a cliff again because during many of those trips I was right fucking ‘there’. Now I have almost nothing. Hopefully I can still entertain others with my questionable way of life. I guess that’s better than nothing. Maybe I should have run away with the Raven for a weekend or more. Everything turned to shit that year, anyway. We could have soaked up some comfort for a few days. Had we decided to be that reckless, at least I would have another memory right now. That’s not funny. She is as gone as my belief in happiness. ‘It is better to have loved and lost...’ Bullshit. If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t know. Get it? Fuck off. Today is Thursday and I have zero obligations. I almost had to take the drive to the big City this morning but I ended up successfully derailing the plan in order to remain in what has likely become the only place left in the world where I am halfway comfortable. Is this process of writing, editing and publishing the reason I am still alive? I don’t know. It sure as hell isn’t frozen pizza. The vane pays no mind. Figures. Nothing does. I should know better after all these years. I was right there and I knew it, yet there was always a dark, negative cloud overhead despite the wondrous feelings. The cloud never went away. Oh, there were a few occasions, like arriving in Vegas after running my ass out of Pensacola, when the cloud disappeared, but the lion’s share of time spent where I so badly needed to be was shrouded in pain and loss; possibilities of disaster and heartache. Am I asking too much of the world? Of life? I hadn’t thought along those lines in the past, and only recently has my brain computed that some of the reasoning behind my shitty situation is my own doing. Yes, of course I’ve fucked up over and over, yet the underlying causes – the roots of this hellish tree that were in place long before I decided that things have become completely unfair – can’t fucking be denied at all, ever. And I didn’t even employ the term ‘unfair’ until a day or two back. That’s it. No matter which path I follow through time, I keep coming to the same conclusion... I was treated very badly during a critically formative period and then left alone without recourse or understanding. That is what grieves me the most. Too bad I can’t take this shit out on those responsible. Ugh. Next thought. This is too much right now. I have coffee and my show on the right-hand display, like most mornings. Sometime after I publish this crap, I’ll see about taking care of a few things around the house and garage. The weather is calm right now, so hopefully I can take care of some annoying leftovers and feel better later. I have to do something or the memories of that beautiful place will stifle any efforts. Moving forward is hardly possible anymore. My moves are all lateral. Jamie just received some bad news and her big, beautiful eyes welled up with tears. I wish I could hold her. Or, better yet, the reverse. I need ‘her’ even though ‘she’ is not Jamie. Whatever. This is going to confuse me very soon. Anyway, I’m glad the weather is a bit warmer and drier than yesterday. I moved some of the old lumber out of the backyard so it remains dry. Maybe I can cut up some of it today. My garage is in need of assistance and has been fluid ever since I built those big dining room cabinets. Caring for that area is a slow process because it need not be quick. I have lots of time. Well, I really don’t know how much time I have left. That is impossible to predict. There is no way of knowing if this endeavor is making a difference inside me. I have to stop the vane and try another. This one is going nowhere."
The Kept Vane
Mature content No. 399 Published February 1st, 2024 8:21am pst read ( words) Past entries
"Nothing ends, indeed. Much like this drivel. Yesterday was not the best, beginning with a shitty morning and then ending with me working in the kitchen on and off for hours. I do enjoy the kitchen, yet this is supposed to be my birthday shit. I’d rather not break myself in half and end up sick of cooking and cleaning. Well, everything is finished and ready to go for later. Moreover, the salads I made are already at the other house because of our fridge issue. I wish the morning had progressed differently; I wish I could feel differently. Everything turns bad given enough time. I’ve never had so much difficulty dealing with visions of the film industry or memories of when all my favorite places were still in operation. Everything seems too far advanced for the amount of years that have passed since certain businesses and restaurants still existed. What I mean to say is that only three years have elapsed since the big electronics stores all closed for good, but society forgets and redevelops so quickly that they seem to have been gone for decades. Completely forgotten. That makes me more sad than angry. I see Jamie’s eyes over there on the right-hand display all big and beautiful, and even she often sends me back in time to when this series first aired nearly twenty-five years ago. Much was different at that time and most of what I enjoyed is gone. This period feels ethereal sometimes because I am so detached from the world as opposed to years ago. I spend ninety-plus percent of my time in this house and garage, only go out when I need to shop or pick up necessities, and remain glued to the same video media day after day. Nothing changes aside from the little details that represent improvements in the house. I have very little family left and barely any contact with them, only speak with a number of people equal to the fingers on one hand, and constantly recall the past and compare everything from that time to the way society and technology have become so clichéd and generic. Recently I went on a tirade about electronics and the way all of the little devices of the past slowly became rolled into one (the smartphone), leaving nothing to the imagination and damned few actually ‘interesting’ or ‘stirring’ new products. All of this relates to the film industry because it is representative of the past; a place to which we cannot return, but one we can visit anytime we wish. Oh, sure... Everything is digitized, yet the process which took place and the magic involved in creating the medium are still apparent. That will never change thanks to the aforementioned high technology. I lament the loss of fascinating products that seemed to peak in the nineties, but at the same time I embrace the highly advanced methods for delivering an endless slough of video media to my televisions out of necessity. Even though I don’t like the path electronic products has taken throughout the past fifteen years, I need what I need, and that means something capable of delivering content which has become critical to my being comfortable. In short, I feel disdain for progress but am a slave to it anyway. I can’t disconnect because this is what I’ve become... A person in dire need of familiar comfort. I feel the way I feel for good reason. That is not to say I am strong enough to truly push away everything with which I disagree. Ugh. The logos in the previous entry were captured from a handful of films (FILMS, mind you; not digital media) which spanned a period from the mid-nineties right up to less than five years ago, all of them having utilized a similar process (Panavision) due to the way the filmmaker feels toward the advancement of the industry. I wanted to show them off because when I watch the credits of many older films crawl up the screen, eventually the logos slowly appear and I end up with a few tears in my eyes. The one image which stands out from the rest is here, and was actually used just nine years ago after having been all but abandoned due to difficult processing, mastering and projection. Theatres opted for a more standardized system, meaning the larger, heavier film began to disappear. The advent of anamorphic lenses decades ago represents the beginning of the larger process’ scarcity in later years. I still can’t believe he stuck to his guns and shot a film on such large stock. It’s magical to know someone out there feels as I do (and has the resources and connections to actually use the fucking equipment), and rather than placing the logo at the end of the credits, it is displayed prominently during the opening sequence just moments into the film. Amazing. Well, it is below if anyone gives half a shit. The film industry is soon going to represent the lion’s share of my slow decline. Believe it. The only way it can take a back seat to other information and memories is for me to go into more details and stories from the glowing years. The practice of describing that era is not good for my mental stability. I should do my best to leave it alone. Film is another story. I can’t fucking help it. Enter shit situation number two... I was afraid of change; afraid to be in certain places among certain people. I needed to be comfortable as often as possible because shit situation number two left me very sensitive and fearful of any scene which required me to be forthright or overly exposed in social situations. I never took a leap to see if working in the film industry was possible for me. No, I did not wish to be a big movie star. I only wanted to be a part of the process of creating the magic I loved so much (remember Margot’s quote?). Notoriety was another story, although seeing my name included in the ‘credits crawl’ was a definite goal. Not for fame, however. Only for myself... To be one of THEM. I just wanted to be part of the fucking thing. But I was afraid to reach in any direction without some level of guaranteed comfort in life (which I already had in good measure). Shit situation number two effectively removed my ability to build confidence in myself. I had information, references, and help in finding my way to the first fucking step, but could not take it. I was afraid. There you go. This is not the end of the subject, either. I just need a pause. I wish I could take issue with the people responsible for that fucking incident. Nope. Today is Saturday and I don’t have a lot of responsibilities. A dinner in my honor will be taking place early this afternoon, too. Tomorrow is the championship and I already agreed to watch it with a few others, meaning my Sunday business will have to be in and around that period of time. All this shit adds up to the fact that Monday morning will feel very good; nice and quiet with little taxing of my time. I need that after all of the birthday guff. I appreciate others’ wishes to ensure I have a good time, but after days of it I could use a break (for about a year). The morning is moving along because the progression of time is unalterable. That means I’ll have to move away from this crap at some point – perhaps like most days when the coffee is gone – and head into the housework with my extended family in the background. As much as I’d like to dive into other projects these days, the fact of my mental stability has affected me to the point of rendering most activities outside the necessities almost completely unimportant. My level of caring about everyday items continues to diminish. This is not good. When I have a bad day, I tend to move toward something that will put a smile on my face for a little while, and most often that is a movie. And then when the credits finish their crawl up the screen, I fall down and become very sad. The process is a circle, much like almost everything else in my life these days. I have responsibilities which have yet to be shirked, honestly. As of this very moment, I’ve not pushed anything aside that needed to be accomplished to ensure smooth operation of the household. I don’t know from where the motivation comes, although I do have an inkling that it’s due to my need for that very same fucking comfort, and it may have become the end result (and reward) of everything I do around this house. That would not be surprising. I am having more trouble living day-to-day than ever before, yet I suppose I’m still capable of accomplishing certain things. I guess. I don’t fucking know. Later. The morning routine has been completed and I have a nice, fat glass of whiskey sitting here on the table. I need it, and in saying so may be an announcement of an addiction. Wonderful. Run with it. Tell someone who may care. I don’t. Even considering all the shit in my head and fears up the ass, I still have a few devices which I can embrace that no one can alter regardless of their stance or reason. As for plans from here forward, I am going to take it easy for a while, shower, and then make revolutions for heading four miles up the highway for an early dinner. Upon returning home, I’ll be in typical form... Comfortable and warm. The former has been waning of late, but there is still some measure available when I need it most. Today is as such. My entire fucking life has been reduced to comfort, agreeable meals, media and alcohol. Isn’t that just peachy? I will continue to embrace all four until my condition worsens. There is nothing else left in my universe. Beauty and desire have been violently ripped away, possibly never to return. When production ceases, don’t ask questions.
Curious... I’ve gone on at length regarding the film industry and the logos which stir my heart like nothing else in the world, yet I have rarely gone into the audio aspect of the same. Hmm. I may have to address that soon. In the meantime, familiarize yourself with the terms ‘Dolby Stereo’ (not stereo as you may know it) and ‘THX’ (and don’t forget timbre-matching, re-equalization, and the like). The advent of THX was an unparalleled era in the advancement of filmmaking and cinema audio reproduction. Don’t fucking get me started. Audio arguments are often moot points due to my age and diminishing hearing capacity. Laugh it up. No one cares. I am beginning to loosen and feel a tad reckless. Maybe I should move the cars, drop my hinged clothing rack and begin some dry cleaning with a mass of loud music in the garage. Hmm. I’ll have to think about that one for a few minutes. I did it. A bit of music and some organization helped me to feel more alive. Afterward, we took off for dinner and then visited the bar to speak with a couple we’ve not seen for years. That was ok. Arriving home was even better. The issue now – today being Sunday – is that I am scheduled to watch the championship this afternoon and do not feel like being around other people today. The visit last night was fine. It may have affected my ability to blend again, though. Twice in one week is a lot, the same in the space of as many days is much more. I don’t think I can deal with it today and have felt as much since early this morning. I’ll have to remain inside my comfort zone, and if my decision disappoints others, well... I can’t deal with that. There is already quite enough for me to push around each day. They are less important. Moreover, I saw Noelle last night and the sight of her caused my brain to slide sideways for a little while. The aftereffects of seeing that kind of beauty often last for days, meaning I need to avoid being in public for a while. I have to remove her from my head. I know some of the guys will be irritated that I won’t be there for such an important game, but they’re just going to have to deal with it. Number one comes first. Enjoying the logos? I’ll be in the middle of all my devices today thanks to the decision to remain home. My shows, some garbage and laundry work, and perhaps a little organization in the office and dining rooms will keep me busy for quite a while. I still have to plan for the refrigerator swap in two days. Having enough time for me to fully think through the operation will smooth out Tuesday’s delivery. I am really looking forward to having a new fridge, as well, and that is from the standpoint of the different configuration. A side-by-side will be a welcome addition over the top-mount freezer. The design is much more friendly. Perhaps I can work toward that end later today. There is a list of movies that I should avoid and I have known as much for years. One stands out because it limits (or sometimes removes) my ability to face reality without feeling as if the world is actually going to end any second. After watching those credits crawl up the screen, I fall pretty hard and cannot do anything for hours. The depression that is constantly hanging over my head completely engulfs my being and disallows any positivity whatsoever. All of that shit takes place not because of my love and subsequent feelings that I’ve permanently lost the chance to be a part of the film industry, but due to the nature of my view of myself. I’m not going to go into that, however, because I can’t have such a horrible mood take over on a Sunday morning. The other movies either represent certain periods or conjure memories of seeing them for the first time – the most important aspect – and with whom I watched. Several of the logos I captured and included on the site are from a few films that I should not be watching, ever. The industry is very different from thirty-plus years ago and that is to be expected. The trouble is that many of the inner workings did not fully change until the late aughts and into the teens, meaning had I taken myself out of the fear and tried, I could have experienced something wonderful before it disappeared. Perhaps then I would not have to avoid certain movies for self-protection. The ‘golden’ era is irrelevant here because it began to decline before I was born. The simple fact is I feel that I honestly did not have a real chance of doing anything. That possibility was removed from my life, along with something else that still hurts to this very moment. I am going to avoid commenting upon the ‘studio’ system or era because my fascination is with vastly different processes. Whatever. Sometimes I don’t feel that saying anything will do any good in the world, but for whatever reason I can’t seem to stop typing. Something wonderful transpired a few minutes ago; Monday morning. Something I can’t even describe. Yesterday was extremely difficult for two reasons. The first was yet another series of aftereffects from situation number one. Big fucking surprise. The second caught me off-guard because I actually felt emotions attached to what has been changing throughout the last couple of years. Right now is not a good time for anything to add more sadness to my existence, not to mention the wondrous incident a few moments back that stirred me more than anything else in recent memory. I am so fucking sad and angry that I can barely see straight. This morning is peaceful and quiet – plus I have all day to care for whatever seems best – but on the inside I am torn to shreds and no amount of quiet or freedom of time is going to alleviate the pain enough for me to function like a real person. My behavior lately has been held together with strength from someplace I can’t describe. I don’t have a lot of choices these days if I’m to enjoy certain aspects of living, meaning I have to be able to appear as if things are fine on the inside and not allow any of the shit to show through my facade. The morning difficulty has been around for a very long time – decades, really – so I am at least accustomed to these feelings, yet when combined with the failed fantasy and having ‘been there’ plus realizing I can’t be there anymore, the truth is that once I begin to slide downhill, a large portion of my psyche is determined to end everything so I don’t have to feel this way anymore. As of yet, I can’t see another way out of this shit. Oh, sure... By some fucking miracle, I could run across a situation which may help me to feel better, but the odds are astronomical. I am not kidding. I’ve changed over the last several years. Everything is very specific and would be extremely difficult for anyone else to understand, let alone a woman. I’ve been trying for too long for the world to feel positive at all. The wonderful little things are going to continue because I am a fucking weak idiot, and each will steamroll me more than the last. I can’t help myself anymore. I need to see. Not a good day. I like Mondays because I have the time and space to consider whatever is best to carry me through to the evening, yet at the same time, the aforementioned heartache and such continues to plague me and push me in only one mental direction. The only positive right now is the fact that I just began watching the third series again. The rotation is complete, for now. And I need to remain mindful of the order, for crying out loud... Three, four, two, five and then one. The last rotation was incorrect, but now I am certain I won’t forget again. This is very important to me. I even began to record when each series begins. I may be a visual, spatial thinker, yet those people are my favorite in the world and I need them to be there for the rest of my life in the proper order. Taking notes regarding the beginning time and date for each program is something that came about just after the pandemic began. I still don’t know why. Maybe it’s nothing more than a hobby or distraction. I am so far down that anything with the ability to bring even the slightest smile is critical right now. The morning has been a disaster. My routine is out of the way and I have plenty of time for whatever. One more day has disappeared. The refrigerator is scheduled to be delivered later today. I already moved the old one to the garage and powered it. What little is in there must be kept cool. I am looking forward to setting up the new unit and getting everything organized. Traveling back and forth to the garage while cooking is beginning to get old. Heh. Anyway, I should have everything in order by tonight. Moving all that shit out there yesterday and then cleaning the floor were two very big steps and I’m pleased with the results. At some point I’ll do a little touch-up prior to moving the new fridge into place. Other than the delivery, I have few plans for today. I’d like to take it easy and think about everything for a while.
Something inside my head is very off-kilter. I know of the turning point a couple of years ago which was initiated by the first damaging dream, but I did not believe the feelings would run rampant and cause all sorts of insane situations to develop in my brain. I just didn’t think such a circumstance was possible. Cut to two years later (I believe) and my head runs all over the map and has caused me to unleash a few devices that remained uninvolved prior to the dreams. Don’t try to understand me, either, because you won’t get near the actual facts. This is for me. I have to lay down a few ideas in order to attempt understanding of the way my mind works these days. I wish I could convey the sheer power of the process inside me. They are unreal and related to an aspect of living that I never could have predicted. This is insane, yet as long as everything remains status quo, I need not be concerned for the future. All I want to do is understand. Now, there is one possible catalyst for this situation, and it is the failure (failed) from seventeen that I tried to outline, and the actual realization that there was a failure which came about last year. Two painful changes in life that seem like natural causes for the way I feel right now. Or, they could simply be unrelated and come up in my thoughts often due to how empty I feel all the time. In any case, I’ve swung the beam in directions previously ignored in life. I know that what I outlined in seventeen came together after years of considering such things, and the more time that passed, the more my head went all over the fucking map in order to be comfortable in life. The downside is nothing really happened. I created a fucking situation out of thin air at one point, too, yet just like everything else that I lament, my feelings created nothing more than additional problems. I suppose there is no way around the problems anymore because as I age, my head sees society differently. That is an axiom. My feelings this morning could very well have begun in seventeen because that was the first time that I actually complained about personal matters. And now I must (at long last) employ a descriptor to a part of my current condition which has been avoided for ten fucking years. This is unfair. Oh, I’ve shit all over people and fucked up aplenty, but the bottom line is that there were two Goddamned incidents far beyond my control, trivialized here and there, and I was left to deal with feelings I did not understand. Little did I know, but those two – when combined – would soon ruin my ability to allow anyone inside and force my hand when it came to dealing with any type of fear. I am sitting at this fucking table due to them. Unfair. But, wait... Aren’t I supposed to be in touch with everything and rise above so life can be fully embraced? Yeah... You fucking do that. I’ve been unable for thirty years. All the way back to a tiny sliver of time in eighty-eight... Doomed and beyond control. Now look at me. I’m like that guy in the insane asylum you may have seen in a movie; the one who has a pencil and constantly writes on the walls and then watches his work accomplish nothing. Splendid. Unfair is the word and I finally agree, for the most part. I’ve made my share of mistakes and I know it, but I didn’t cause everything. Today is Tuesday. Other than the delivery, the name of the day is meaningless. I’ll take care of the usual stuff and then continue with some laundry work. If my head remains sideways, I won’t accomplish much. This entire situation makes me very sad, but at least there is less anger inside than usual. Later. I emptied the old fridge and it is ready to be picked up. After tracking the vehicle that is carrying my new appliance, I saw that the number of stops is displayed, meaning I’ll be able to pinpoint their arrival. I still need to move a few items in the living room to clear space for rolling the fridge into the kitchen. The doors will need to be removed, as well, but that process will take place in the garage. My daily routine is out of the way, as well. I’m not going to get into anything else until the fridge is in place and cooling. I have to leave the time available to avoid any issues. Third season Jamie is gracing the right-hand display and I will refrain from making lovie-dovie comments about her unparalleled beauty. Maybe I just did the opposite. I love her more than I could ever convey here. The next day has arrived on the heels of gusting winds. There is a massive storm system heading this way. It is predicted to hit several hours from now, meaning I’ll have to batten down the hatches prior to the rain. No big deal. As for the fridge concerns from yesterday, the delivery guys had the unit out of the truck, unpacked and completely installed in just over twenty minutes. They even leveled the unit and hauled away all of the packaging, not to mention the old fridge. I just stood there and held the door open. Heh. Anyway, the new fridge is running quietly and everything is once again cool and protected. I am supposed to receive a survey sometime today and fully intend to give their crew a glowing review. I’m glad everything worked out fine. Too bad my mental condition can’t benefit from a new appliance. Ugh. I really don’t like feeling this way. At least I have the entire day ahead. Peace and quiet cannot be overstated these days. I’m pleased that I don’t have anywhere to be today because as the clock progresses, the weather will become increasingly violent. I can see the wind blowing some drizzle right now, in fact. Ooh-fa. The wind is out of control already. I went to the garage to get the laundry going earlier than planned just in case the power is cut off, plus I grabbed some crap from the backyard that needs to dry so I can cut it to pieces and dispose of everything in the trash this week. My head is going sideways as expected. I’ll have to keep busy once the coffee is gone in order to alleviate this mass of lost feelings. I have never felt so alone. Housework is often all I have to pass the time. Well, I do need to ensure all of the batteries are charged so I can enjoy my shows on the phone, if necessary. I always find a way to that little slice of comfort no matter the circumstances. I was there, in spades. Now all I have are memories and rare references to places I’ll probably never see again. I was right where I needed to be and knew it because of a measure of understanding. Nothing is left. Memories. This is going to worsen and eventually force my hand. I don’t fucking need this kind of shit in my life. There are plenty of other factors pushing me down every day. One reference that continues to come to mind is recent and stark. Sometime last year I went on a tirade regarding a process that I have never fully understood, felt from time to time (completely unexpected, of course) and have seen within society in the past. I can’t go into detail, but suffice to say that the recent reference is related to this process. Moreover, if my understanding is correct, the reference topic in question could save my life. Unfortunately, there can be no guarantees whatsoever, only risk. The most likely outcome from all this crap is that nothing will change and I’ll be perched here for the duration. Splendid. Do I have hope? Not very much. Faith in anything these days is more of a stretch than the idea of me growing wings and flying the coop. I must say that the information stirred me for a few minutes. This, too, shall pass. Everything is just so fucking sad anymore. As I said before, I was there. ‘Take that off. Now take the other one off. Now put the first one back on.’ Thank you and have a marvelous day. I really hope a power outage doesn’t impact the washer or dryer. I have plenty of room to hang clothes for drying, but it’s rather a pain in the ass. Maybe I should have taken care of this yesterday.
Jesus do I ever feel like shit today. The laundry is moving along very well and should be finished prior to the increased winds. I’ll move away from this very soon and take care of some housework (along with a fucking drink). I’d like to get my office in order, as well. I suppose my feelings have to be shoved to the rear, like always. Wonderful. I don’t fucking matter anymore. Maybe I never did. The laundry is almost complete. I have the laptop charging in case of an outage, and between that machine and my phone, the media will keep me company should the need arise. I also have all of the auxiliary batteries charged. Very good. I don’t care if the wind and flood of the century slam this house. I need my friends to be there no matter the circumstances. The power and wireless Internet connection can disappear and I will still be with them, thank the maker. I just... Need them. I have little else left in the world. The memories have been slamming me today. I remember too much sometimes and end up sitting here unable to move in any direction for any reason. Not good. I truly wish I could lay out some details because the entire years-long picture would come into focus. I can’t do that. I have to protect myself from harmful words or judgments. Jamie’s eyes are so huge that I almost can’t look at her. Damn. It hurts so deeply to see them. Would she understand me? Would she make all the bad go away? Can anyone? I have dreams of such a thing taking place... A feeling that the woman staring into my eyes actually does know everything, yet reality is not so pleasant. And I cannot count on both hands the number of dreams that led me to believe that I would be ok; I would survive because of ‘her’. Well, where is she? I remember some occasions when I thought I had found a path out of this shit, yet every single fucking one of them turned to ash soon enough. People think that all of my artwork and lighting in the garage are there for entertainment. Nope. The more I sit here and wallow in sadness and loss, the more anger I feel. Anger leads me to artwork, the latest of which is in mind and soon to be built out there. I am fucking empty. Everything I do is empty. I feel emptiness. Loneliness. Sadness. The only productive emotion I experience anymore is anger. At least it gets me through most days. When I sit here and recall being ‘there’ and all of the beauty attached to it, I can’t help but think that the nature of life just didn’t include any other options for me. And before you give me a blast of shit about other people in the world being much worse off than myself, allow me to relieve you of the burden. I already know. The truth is I can’t do much about it and have to put my own life first. There is another axiom for you. Swallow it with a sip of water and then go fuck yourself. I am still trying, too. If I wasn’t, this endeavor would be offline. I am dealing with the memories as well as can be expected. I am still breathing. I have no faith that ‘she’ actually exists. So sad. My future hinges on the possibility, yet the truth is I already know. Nothing is out there. Quite the reverse of all those entries ending in the opposite. This is the most downtrodden and debilitating condition I’ve ever felt. If ‘this’ is all ‘there is’, why am I still typing? Hope? Faith? YOU make the call. I don’t have the fucking answer. Perhaps the little enjoyments are still holding fast to the cause. ‘You invite some stray dog over here?’ ‘You short of food?’ The film industry, big electronics stores, technology... Everything is gone or otherwise made generic and uninteresting. I fucking hate this era. Oh, there are little positives here and there, but I’d happily toss them all into the ocean for five minutes of the way things were. Five fucking minutes. Believe it. ‘You can push a man only so far.’ 'True.’ Really? Is that wisdom? I don’t believe it. Perhaps commenting upon what I hear during the media should be avoided. The laundry is finished. Wow. How did I do that? My level of caring is at an all-time low. I guess the old need to feel somewhat accomplished by close of business hours still keeps some things moving. I don’t know. My instinct is to do nothing but sit here and think. The word ‘recovery’ just popped into my head thanks to the program running right now. I don’t understand why people don’t fucking understand. Some aspects of the video media are not believable, and I don’t mean science fiction or anything of the like. Just life itself. I don’t fucking get it and have been in the minority on this issue for a very long time. ‘Recovery’ does not seem to apply to anyone but me, or perhaps I truly have lost my mind. No one is listening. No one hears me. No one is there. As for the housework, I believe the subject matter here combined with a horrible morning mood have disallowed anything further today. Oksana occasionally looks cross-eyed, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing. Nothing takes away from her beautiful eyes. Ugh. This just keeps rolling along; rolling right over me. Everything else in the world is uninteresting. Splendid. This paragraph was derailed. Big surprise. I can rarely keep this train on the track anymore. My mind is all over the place because the slightest reference to the reference will immediately take over my thinking processes and leave me unable to move in any positive direction. Reminders abound. I am not suggesting that my abilities are gone, only that it doesn’t take much to send me off the track and into terrible places. That type of thing has been on and off for a few days now and I am fucking sick of it. But? I am also powerless in life. Insignificant. Empty. The way I see the world and all of the people populating it has changed so dramatically in the last few years that I am surprised to be able to speak to anyone, even briefly. Believe me... You don’t want to know. At least the laundry is finished. I have no interest in anything else right now. Ah... Here is yet another scene that forces me to wonder why people don’t fucking understand. I am very sensitive, but at the same time I am not sensitive to others anymore. I have little regard for people. My devices mean more to me than they do. ‘Recovery’ is apparent as this series of shots plays out, and very little of it means a damned thing to the whole of society. That is fucking sad. Call me what you will. This is about as good as it gets these days. And like most of life anymore, I fucking hate this shit. I may be destined to remain this way. I cannot influence the vane. Wow... The wind is gusting pretty heavily. I’m glad I don’t have to go anywhere. My garage door has been closed all day, too. Everything in the backyard is in order, so hopefully nothing will be damaged by this weather. The tree in the front was pruned back to only limbs last year. No worries there. My repair of the patio cover is solid, as well. Other than some flooding and standing water in the back, the storm should pass by without issue. I still feel like crap. Not surprising. I feel like crap most of the time. This is a bad fucking time. Period. Each day is just a touch worse than the last, and those little enjoyments are waning. I feel like a person whose tide is receding, never to return. The reference is weighing on my mind this afternoon, meaning the vane will not respect my feelings. I need to be there again... Two specific occasions always come to mind and drive me in such a direction. I just can’t help it anymore. The memories of so many things – all of them gone for good – cut me to ribbons inside every day. Being there is most decidedly at the top of the list of losses. I was there. I remember. The two occasions cannot be brought here with any measure of detail. Just know that I think of them almost constantly, and even more now that the reference came along. I really didn’t need that shit, although I understand the genesis. The thoughts have been stirring me for some time now and I see only more damage as a result. Nothing good. The rain is falling heavily and blowing sideways right now. Business hours are nearly closed, so I’ll probably move away from this machine very soon and relax for a while. Dinner will be very simple tonight. Just leftovers, thanks to the new refrigerator (which is wonderful, by the way).
'Zizmareth'. Just a thought. As you can see by the way this entry is displayed, the film industry continues to draw my attention, as does my inability to attempt to enter that dreamy place. Very few people understand how I feel, as well. That certainly doesn’t help matters. I try to talk about it and then others look at me as if it is nothing more than a hobby. Well, it is not. The industry is a way of life and pulls me nearly as much as the search for the right type of understanding. ‘Her’. Yesterday was not good. Sure, the refrigerator is looking better and better, I finished a bunch of laundry, and all of my typical chores were completed in good time. The problem was the reference and reminders of where I used to reside (and those places more elusive than a winning lottery ticket). I was there, as I’ve stated on multiple occasions, and sitting here right now considering how things have changed – LIFE has changed – throughout the last couple of years is beginning to feel like another hand on my back... Helping me along a negative pathway. Last night I was commenting upon one of my many trips to the goblet, and as I spoke and attempted to craft my sentences in a respectful, often funny manner, all those things I didn’t say were as plentiful as everything I did say. Heh. My past is littered with bad decisions and cold, unfeeling behavior connected to my innate ability to completely disregard everything in the world and maintain focus on my own needs, yet the little stories rarely go into such sordid territory. There were moments aplenty related to nothing more than food, drink, atmosphere and travel. Moreover, I’ve lodged at some pretty lavish locations. So, the stories are generally positive and humorous, the downside being the processes at work inside me as I recall being ‘there’; knowing that the time was short (late) and I had to soak up the feelings while they lasted. Well, they never lasted very long. Everyone eventually told me to go home and live, mostly because I had been traveling and trying to dive into a very specific type of comfort for almost all of the wrong reasons. Almost. There were always two main issues driving me away from everyday life and into the arms of someone who might listen. In any case, by the time I was finished with my little anecdotal observations about Vegas, there was a mass of imagery in my brain that quickly reminded me that my life may already be over... Images of that ‘place’; certain faces and smiles, as well as the knowledge that I could not be found. I was ‘there’. The critical aspects of that place shall remain veiled, however. Sometimes I have trouble telling stories because I’m uncertain of how much detail might be acceptable depending upon my audience. Last night I left out being with people while in the goblet. I only spoke of the weather and some parts of my visits that were difficult. While there with Andrea, for example, our time comprised nine nights at the Venetian with a flight in the middle of all that. I had a hell of a time trying to maintain organization of my funds and had to visit the bank on a few occasions to ensure that my cards would always have a high ceiling. I did not want our adventure to be interrupted. That means a small part of my brain was dedicated to keeping track of everything even though Andrea and I seemed to be completely flighty and reckless. I don’t know if my stories are funny anymore, but sometimes there is a reminder that presses me to share and try to get a laugh. And then? I fall off a cliff again because during many of those trips I was right fucking ‘there’. Now I have almost nothing. Hopefully I can still entertain others with my questionable way of life. I guess that’s better than nothing. Maybe I should have run away with the Raven for a weekend or more. Everything turned to shit that year, anyway. We could have soaked up some comfort for a few days. Had we decided to be that reckless, at least I would have another memory right now. That’s not funny. She is as gone as my belief in happiness. ‘It is better to have loved and lost...’ Bullshit. If I didn’t know, I wouldn’t know. Get it? Fuck off. Today is Thursday and I have zero obligations. I almost had to take the drive to the big City this morning but I ended up successfully derailing the plan in order to remain in what has likely become the only place left in the world where I am halfway comfortable. Is this process of writing, editing and publishing the reason I am still alive? I don’t know. It sure as hell isn’t frozen pizza. The vane pays no mind. Figures. Nothing does. I should know better after all these years. I was right there and I knew it, yet there was always a dark, negative cloud overhead despite the wondrous feelings. The cloud never went away. Oh, there were a few occasions, like arriving in Vegas after running my ass out of Pensacola, when the cloud disappeared, but the lion’s share of time spent where I so badly needed to be was shrouded in pain and loss; possibilities of disaster and heartache. Am I asking too much of the world? Of life? I hadn’t thought along those lines in the past, and only recently has my brain computed that some of the reasoning behind my shitty situation is my own doing. Yes, of course I’ve fucked up over and over, yet the underlying causes – the roots of this hellish tree that were in place long before I decided that things have become completely unfair – can’t fucking be denied at all, ever. And I didn’t even employ the term ‘unfair’ until a day or two back. That’s it. No matter which path I follow through time, I keep coming to the same conclusion... I was treated very badly during a critically formative period and then left alone without recourse or understanding. That is what grieves me the most. Too bad I can’t take this shit out on those responsible. Ugh. Next thought. This is too much right now. I have coffee and my show on the right-hand display, like most mornings. Sometime after I publish this crap, I’ll see about taking care of a few things around the house and garage. The weather is calm right now, so hopefully I can take care of some annoying leftovers and feel better later. I have to do something or the memories of that beautiful place will stifle any efforts. Moving forward is hardly possible anymore. My moves are all lateral. Jamie just received some bad news and her big, beautiful eyes welled up with tears. I wish I could hold her. Or, better yet, the reverse. I need ‘her’ even though ‘she’ is not Jamie. Whatever. This is going to confuse me very soon. Anyway, I’m glad the weather is a bit warmer and drier than yesterday. I moved some of the old lumber out of the backyard so it remains dry. Maybe I can cut up some of it today. My garage is in need of assistance and has been fluid ever since I built those big dining room cabinets. Caring for that area is a slow process because it need not be quick. I have lots of time. Well, I really don’t know how much time I have left. That is impossible to predict. There is no way of knowing if this endeavor is making a difference inside me. I have to stop the vane and try another. This one is going nowhere."
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