[09/26/2016 06:26 pdt]
The throwback title from 2003 is being displayed at the bottom of the main index at
admin's request. That was an era of excess symbolism and the logo reflected such in spades. Back then, even the left column displayed
vertical symbols, messages and the occasional PSA. Despite all of the images and various distractions, the index never really looked
cluttered thanks to the subdued coloration which entered after the dark period of late 2003 and early 2004. The site carried the basic
layout seen here now, and the two-column idea was used in order to keep navigation tidy and compact. There was a floating menu for a short
time, too, but the left column had to remain clean in order for the menu to be accessible. This did not work well enough to expand upon
so the dynamic menu was born and the column was simplified. Other items from the early days of 2004 will work their way into this
space with the stipulation that the index does not become loaded down.
One interesting fact about the old title image is the
original site URL. Displayed in the upper left in a fading configuration, it represents the earliest incarnation of our web space. Other
site names are referenced in various places on the image but none so prominently as the first. To follow historical suit, we may alter
the main title image on the master to animate part of the 'reverse, pause, forward' symbol on the left. We have thought of this from the
beginning because of the still nature of the indexes, but admin did not approve. Now that we have a tad more creative control we
just might make it happen -- and we will ensure it is done tastefully with no flashiness.
The left column has been lightened due to our attempt to maintain a separation between the two halves of the page layout. The footer needs
to stay outside of the 'box' created by the blue delineators in order for it to look centered without the illusion of the main body
text being off center within the table. Yes, this is a lot of crap to describe, but the staff spends many hours staring and eventually things
look strange. We believe the dark gray background completes the table better than black and the footer appears even. So it shall remain.
And the galleries are still fucked up. We may remove them entirely if a solution is not forthcoming.
"She strolled by us smiling. We smiled back, and at that moment we realized she was uncommon.
Her gait and stride were amazing, and that was merely the beginning.
Her jeans allowed clear view of a stallion's legs beneath. She walked by several times and the world rotated in reverse during those moments.
Dark hair, dark eyes, and the flowing symmetrical gait of a goddess painted from the sum history of beauty. The heels were three-inches high which
placed her roughly even with our height. Eye to eye was the result and her gaze created a disturbance within us which still remains to this moment,
next to the memory. It is a cyclone of sorts, one which may have no end. Her slender beauty and flowing movements somewhat matched the Raven. The
resulting feelings drove us insane. We are still there at this moment. The memory and vision of Her will not leave us at all. We cannot shake them.
The difficulty inherent in thinking of Her permeates every aspect of life -- a minute or two each day finds distraction, however the
feelings return, and quickly. Once in there, She becomes everything.
One more pass and time stopped briefly
while our lives took a breath. And then She smiled again. And the world flattened, collapsed upon itself, and burned. The decay left behind
is us... remembering. Here we are, again. This place created by us, for us, and for all time. Mired within memory, floating near the mass and hiding
in plain sight. Buried in the detritus left behind and in constant need of reasons unfound and unavailable. We are far gone but somehow still here.
Where? We do not know and no one knows. They are already dead with just a slight delay to the soil. We can only wish to be as blind as them. Those
fucking people. Them... and their endless bliss. The fridge is full and the heads are empty. There is no longer the potential upside as in passed
years. We close everything off and attempt to drown within the available noise, however the noise cannot overpower inner violence. There continues
to be a different method and the result is the same. Dirt. The dirt awaits. We will continue to smash ourselves against the ignorant norm and try
to build the noise level into the goddamned stratosphere. At some point a part of the decrepit machine will fail and explode, and the remaining
shards will cover us with no respite. As we build, the noise will rise just as the feelings soar out of our failing control. The woman
who walked near that day reminded us of Her. This is a problem of a magnitude we cannot comprehend. Fuck.
We no longer have hope in the direction of the form.
The Raven left us more than a year ago and the feelings continue to slide downward. There seems to be only temporary relief and distraction from
our current state, and afterward the drop resumes. Our twice-yearly venture to the mountains does hold wonder even after following the same
path throughout these many trips. We get there and sink into comforts and excess similar to that of the Promised Land (albeit cheaper).
The atmosphere up there helps as much as it is able. We can actually lose thought for a short time due to the resort and associated
outings. Copious amounts of alcohol are also involved just as in days passed. Strolling, drinking, eating, gambling, and gazing in the
direction of others who may share similarities to the original. Naturally, each sighting causes stirred thoughts and pounding heart, but the
benefit seems to outweigh the pitfalls. We are there among the sex of society and for whatever reason the understanding exists that what
we are seeing is a universe away. She was right next to us, among us, inside us, but nowhere else has this been possible.
So the fucking fallout continues undeterred... heart destroyed beyond repair... and we are living out on the fringe.
Emily has Her shoulders
The falls occasionally take place and just days ago was yet another example. This was a woman with
whom we have occasional contact, and she was at a local bar after work. Just short of the moment we saw her, we were doing ok. The day was a
Friday and many gather at the bar for an afternoon drink to begin the weekend. We noticed her as she walked to the restroom and were reminded
of working with one of her relatives. She strode, we gazed. We stared, amazed. She stopped to say hello and the shit began to cloud our heads
like nothing else. Some conversation and a hug later, we were finished. The thoughts of Her flowed into our consciousness due to this woman's
chiseled features and dark eyes. The Raven, illustrated to a point. The fucking situation became crippling very quickly, and we cannot simply
push these thoughts aside, no matter the circumstances. We cannot, and that is the end of it. Others have attempted to help, persuade, assist,
advise -- all for naught. Nothing comes of it. We are still in that gulag which began at 10am last July 29th. This fact is in stone like nothing
else. And we reside there, on the fringe, despite the efforts of others. And the woman in question has no idea. And things will remain as such.
There is no reason to push, pull, disrupt, annoy, or upfuck anything. This is our issue and will stay that way.
Eventually, we will have no need to concern others as they will not be there. We will just bury the entirety of it so deeply that no one will find
it. Except us.
We are out here, alone among the mass of others, and watching everyone, everything, everywhere... constantly searching
and seeking that which eludes us. The outside... the in-between... the fucking fringe of society. Alone.
This feels similar to the cave
yet without the security. Even the office cannot match that. The fringe we know well. We know it by rote. We are intimately close and related
on a deep level. A low level, really. This is a place within which we resided for decades, however in these late days the experience has
changed somehow. It is different likely due to the realization of the most compelling dream. The Raven brought us to the heights of emotion
and detached passion the likes of which cannot be duplicated. Now, and due to the cloudy warmth within which She enveloped our souls, the fringe
has become a place of deep depression and exploration.
And the darkest of negatives.
This is like a lateral shift through
the blacks and grays. Drifting alone yet mired within the sheep around us. We float there... hanging between tangibility and thick gaseous
thought. Everything seems to swirl around us and remain at arm's length for some reason. We cannot reach out and find purpose, nor can we
cling to anything in the positive. The fog is within and all around. This is the ether we have created.
The climate outside does
not help, either. It is crap.
Diana, displaying a few aspects of the Raven
The weather is heading uphill again due to the fucked up location of the pre-fall
jetstream. We are at this moment sweltering, although the temperature outside is not over eighty. The wind moving in the wrong direction
forces these changes upon the planet and the result is very uncomfortable. Near the ocean there is no real need for central air. Some
homes have it due to their location up the hill where the sun is even more prominent, however the climate in this area is quite cool when compared
to the interior valleys and flatlands. Still, the warmth creeps in and forces us to sit near the fans.
We should be in Ketchikan for fuck's sake.
The mobile platform will open doors, but still there are many variables in such a situation. As nice as it might feel to reside in a cooler
climate, we do need accessibility -- now more than ever. The glass between us and the outside world will have to be good enough for the time
being. At least inside this little cocoon the temperature does not travel too far beyond our comfort level. The calendar now indicates fall, but
as regular readers already know, there is no 'fall' here, really. The weather simply tapers off from summer and then remains warm until late
October. Just crap. There is no line from one part of the year to the next. We railed on about this (so did Reiko) back during the days of the
park -- as well as 1236 and the valley -- and our conclusions then were similar: stick it the fuck out. Yes, the weather is warm most of the time and
the whole thing sucks, but at least we traveled toward the sea which is a drop in the average. Other places have so much appeal at times, right?
Of course they do. However they are far away and difficult with which to enmesh. The forest has been there for us all the way back to the pre-NASA
days and that quickly became the pinnacle of destinations during that period. We sat and splayed our feelings across the Internet due to the unending
need to travel into that forest and find the past. It was out there -- probably still is there in many ways -- and the weather is agreeable as
well. We just never made the trip. Oh, we threatened to leave constantly, but the actual adventure never materialized in the slightest. The hope
then was to separate ourselves from the herd and maintain a relationship with a simpler, more natural time on this planet. Also, the weather there
reflects a connection with the history, and this means our comfort would not only align with the locale due to the ancient aspects of the area, but
also with the cool nature of the latitude. The extreme end of this area being further North was never really a possibility.
More recently the desire for a cooler climate has been driven by our need to escape the 'everyday' and seek solitude, and the extreme
necessity of finding a place where we can be immersed in the memory of the Raven. She fulfilled parts of life we did not know existed and to live
here in these late days has become an exercise in futility. Each part of life has become a wait for... something. Yes, there is the hope that
another like Her is out there wandering and this leaves us in a very uncomfortable place. The possibility cannot be denied, yet the simple fact
is that we may never know at all. This planet is covered with souls of all types but we are unable to search in any effective way. Thus, moving
ourselves to another locale may at least help to alleviate the loss in one way -- we will no longer be in areas which remind us of actually
being near Her. They are haunted in the worst way.
The clavicle recesses
The Raven is missed so deeply that we very nearly cannot function. Society did not deserve to
hold such a gorgeous, caring soul, and now that She is gone all that remains is endless thought and disdain. Life is a void, just as the beautiful
shoulders above. We have written words to such an effect for more than a year now and we see no change in the foreseeable future. There is just
no reason and very little possibility. We needed and need Her like nothing else in this sordid, stinking world. She was the fulfillment of
everything, and to replace that in any way is the tallest of orders. Others suggest we push forward with the good memories and remember all of
the positives She represented. Of course, they should be correct (and they are in some ways), however we do not operate in such a manner. We will
remember and loathe the present because all that is left behind is shit. As wonderful as the time with Her was, there is the slimmest of
chances that we can ever enjoy anything remotely close. No one can understand the visceral and emotional need. We cannot expect them to understand.
And that is the most accepting we can be toward others' feelings and wishes. Fuck them anyway.
In fact, we ARE pushing forward at this moment. We are above ground and the revolver sits idle. There is always an exit (as stated in both words
and images on this site for many years). We have avoided that exit due to the possibility of distraction and comfort. Both arrive unexpectedly and
at those moments we realize the need. When things are at their worst, we still seem able to cling to those moments and lift ourselves slightly --
generally just enough elevation to maintain air (remember The Air?). Hopefully, one of these long hellish days will bring us to the realization
that we CAN get to where we need... that place the Raven provided but now is more elusive than a calm reality. Perhaps we will find it, and perhaps
we will not. Who the fuck knows. Until then, we shall dream, long, mire, and plod.
And, write."
Random Quote:
"Life is not lost by dying; life is lost minute by minute, day by
dragging day,
in all the thousand small uncaring ways."
-- Stephen Vincent Benét
