The cloud and local indexes have been further streamlined this week. The FAQ has been pulled down for rework and
should return within a month or so. That content has not been updated in many years (other than dates and links),
and is in need of a revamp top to bottom. As soon as admin has the notes ready, we will code and publish.
"We drove... From there to here. We traveled the roadways in earnest, and feeling that we were taking the correct
path -- making the right decision. That journey was one tine on the fork we created out of a deep need for the
beauty. We found it, temporarily. And then the world fell in upon itself leading us to the worst possible set of
circumstances, feelings, and remorse. We are still there. Here. Wherever we placed ourselves. This locale of
confusion, depression, alcohol, and the continuing questions which feel as much like knives as the recollection of
that terrible day. We are in more than one void: The hole which developed as a result of the obsession, and the
vacuum which formed when we removed breathable air from life. This position now stands as the most arduous daily
trial we could have imagined, yet never thought ourselves capable. But we did it anyway. Sour, decaying issues...
One after the other.
Our situation is well-deserved, to say the least. We caused a break of epic proportions by taking that fucking
tine, and for a thousand days thereafter we suffered. That does not matter. What does make a difference is the
suffering on the other side of the world which we left behind with a snap decision. The current thought of leaving
that life is unreal. We cannot believe ourselves capable of such a massive and all-encompassing shift from daily
life into the emotional gas clouds now floating both within our heads and over that little house not far from our
location. Everything was in line to ensure a loving and secure future. The home, career, partner, hopes and dreams
of a lifetime were in process and glowing like the moon over the fucking desert. We had everything we wanted and
needed. Now, however, nothing like that is remotely possible. We have become a self-made black hole of depression,
alcohol, financial distress, and never-ending bitching. But we consciously did this -- we left there and drove
here. We did it in no uncertain terms and without remorse. We just drove our stupidity to another location, and
that is as easy a task as taking to the knife in avoidance of feeling. Wait... That is not easy at all. We have
headed in such a direction many times throughout the past several years but the action was impossible. It still is,
however the feelings push us toward that type of end quite often. We cannot avoid them.
The image above was shot during the drive -- directly above the steering wheel. We were on the bridge and screaming
to get to the other side. We needed to be there, or at least we thought we did. That was not the hour of the
decision, but the hour of mass uncertainty, illusion, and the disjointed thoughts which did not allow us to reason
anything beyond the white lines. We kept the pace until reaching a destination which would soon destroy all
rationality and sense. We just fucking drove ourselves insane, but did not know of it. We were blinded by so many
needful things that any other possibility was simply and mindfully destroyed prior to becoming clear.
here .
A change of such magnitude naturally requires an enormous amount of time for adjustment and some sort of
realignment within the world. The disruption seemed unending during the first several months, and even now it
continues. As comfortable and secure as we can be in front of this damned editor and environment, the mind still
retains every single detail -- each second which passed -- of that unimaginable day.
this trip solely in hopes of said distraction. On the surface everything was fine
and dandy for us, yet deep within there was much turmoil -- some caused by her situation as well as ours, and some
caused by the togetherness which had been ill-conceived from the outset. Although Molly Magee's tavern felt as
another world, the reality spun inside us like shit in a powerful blender. And the City was similar. Guinness,
Jameson, and Newcastle kept our feelings at bay, and helped the connection between us develop in a very distorted
manner. We strolled recklessly and with nary a thought to the future of anything. We simply kept the pace of
attraction, photography, and the indulgent nature which became second only to breathing. She was just the
individual to assist in our selfish and destructive behavior because she was also on a path crafted from pain and
guilt. Something similar had been caused by her -- a long-term relationship sliced to ribbons -- and we came
along at a moment when she wished for a partner in crime, so to speak. The City helped with everything due to the
endless bars, restaurants, shopping, and scenery.
The division we caused affected every aspect of family relationships as well as our friends. We had an enormous
network of contacts, a huge level of financial interests, and responsibilities related to the house and work. All
of that came to a crashing halt and caused distress on every front. The split resulting from our decision to choose
that goddamned tine also forced her to rework the banking and home mortgage. In at least one way it worked out well
for her because of the loan modification which would not have otherwise been available or feasible. That allowed
her to maintain that little house and her stability. We lost out, naturally, but that did not matter. All we hoped
for was her comfort. Massive remorse did not make forgiving ourselves possible.
During the Winter of 1992 we attended a birthday party. The subject of the occasion was us -- our twenty-fifth.
Family, food, a bit of booze, and the fantastic warmth of a house in Livermore. Everyone who mattered to us was
there. The television was always on in the background and the conversation was as it had been for similar
gatherings throughout many years. The entire picture was one of comfort and stability as we have rarely experienced.
We milled around the house socializing and enjoying the affair, and many moments into that day we noticed a
magnetic notepad upon the refrigerator. The pad was often used for grocery lists, but on that day it displayed an
equation: '100÷25=4 A Quarter of a Century!'. And that string of characters has become a reference point in
our history. The equation was a simple gesture commemorating the day, but now it stands in stark contrast to our
current situation as a result of the fucking fork. That day was full of wonder and enjoyment the likes of which we
cannot match in these late days. Everyone present was younger (some are gone now, which is another reason to look
upon that party with fond memories), and full of life. The food was always good and the comfort of that house
cannot be overstated. We had a bright-eyed partner -- loving and caring -- who helped us to dream of a future with
light. She was the embodiment of beauty and passion, and her outlook was always toward the up. During that period
so many years ago, we felt the same. We were unconcerned with whether or not the future held success because we
were constantly relaxed about everything... All aspects of daily living. Weekdays were spent working and dreaming
of the weekends with that woman, and the weekends were awash with fun. The occasional trip to the high country was
made even better when we traveled with her. Of course, it was all very low-budget, but that did not matter because
we had the best times just being together. The equation included all of that happiness and comfort, and this is
the reason it feels so distant now. Along comes the first of many forks resulting in a split and thousands of miles
between us. The fork and that fucking equation are intimately related.
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