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September 14th, 2021 9:06am pdt

Some coloration has been altered to add contrast.



Six Two Compensation (Arina VII)

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"Ah, there it is again. This episode rolled around at the typical interval of just over two weeks and I see John up there with his facial expression that could stop a train. Awesome. I'd go into my appreciation for his ability to transmit so many words with nothing more than a glance, but unfortunately there are more pressing matters.

This is the same morning as the end of the previous entry. Same mood, same everything... Well, except for one key piece of information. I am not the same as yesterday. Not by a damned sight. Darkness all around, wind howling through my head, bad feelings for people. The weather outside is gloomy. Ideal, really, for this type of very negative space and situation. I'll be out there very soon with my devices and power tools. I need to move some things around before caring for my usual list of Sunday business. No television today. Only music. As I said, darkness. Lots of thinking, too. Consideration for how to proceed properly and without creating future pitfalls. Those fucking things are for other people. Those people. Them.

Not me.

Six.

Labor Day. Sunday business was fine and my 'people' mood went into full swing for a while before cooling enough to be civil. That was a mistake in the beginning. I don't know how I feel about it now. This morning I am beginning to see that it could have made me appear as a fool. I can't have that but still I must be human. Mistakes, missteps. During the morning I drove everything as best I could and then tried to change the plan for lunch. Afterward, the movie. And then a ballgame for a while into the evening. I felt better by that point but the morning weighed on my head quite a bit. All that anger has its place, and one facet of knowing that is to distribute the feelings and point them toward either a source or a target. Yesterday I attempted such control over the direction but ended up looking like a fool while falling all over the place. I can't have that anymore. The shit must be tightened enough to keep others out of the details. Today, for example, I'll have to be cut off from people as much as possible so as to clear up and understand how I fell down yesterday before it happens again.

Anyway...

The sun is shining -- unlike yesterday at this hour -- and I am hoping to continue my efforts in the garage right where I left off while the anger was apparent. The afternoon went fine, but the morning was crap. I have a pretty good sense of what took place to send me south, too. It was memory combined with the resulting situation in my head over being so out of touch with stability of any kind while worrying over the issues. I seem to have a penchant for dwelling sometimes while alone. The imagery and endless societal reminders of people pushing themselves up at the expense of another which is one of the worst facts of this shit world. Today is Monday -- the holiday (flag out already) -- and I have either one or two LDS representatives coming by tomorrow afternoon for a little discussion of religion. I need to ensure I am not abrasive toward those who do not deserved my attitude. Balance, always. I'll admit some people out there are not worth me changing my mood, however those guys are very friendly and try to be helpful. No matter the belief system, I can't be an asshole. I am going to try putting everything aside and keeping an open mind when it comes to such advertising. The meeting was my idea, after all. I may be having trouble dealing with who and what I am, yet those facts have nothing to do with most people (I think). Today has to be on a higher level.

Arina is right there behind my eyes. Originally a holy mess, she now appears as a manageable form with which I can work one step at a time. I admitted that my value as a person (a man??) has been derived through the right type of female soul next to me for a very long time, yet still I cannot spell it out here. Too much fear and too much risk. I simply cannot have a ton of backlash, and keep in mind it will come from those very same female souls. The males with which I have occasional contact matter less and less each day. They are not a part of the picture anymore. Those on the television will always be somewhat of a problem, though. The media is such a factor in society that I have not the ability to rise above and view it as intended. Entertainment. That is the main reason behind my watching only that which is very familiar. I know what to expect and am never worried or disappointed. Arina holds promise despite the trouble spinning webs in my brain. She still carries four or five rotating issues, though. The idea now is to leave the unchangeable worries from the past alone and focus upon those parts I may be able to reform. Her name will continue to be in the titles for some time to come.

68784 lines of code have been written since I first mentioned the name 'Jaime' and discovered images from the past. They went straight into my heart and changed the direction of this site in a very short period of time. Unbelievable, but at least I am trying.

Tuesday now. I don't know what happened to the rest of Monday.

'I always found comfort in the simple expression of code and control. I still do.'

That was the spring of eleven after the site had been offline for quite some time. I believe there was a gap for over two years before I found the time and drive to get everything together again and operational. I did not know at the time, but that year (mostly after reinvigorating the site) would serve to define the next decade-plus and represent the worst decisions and actions in my life. One which took place in fifteen is close, but eleven turned out to be complete shit because of my inability to think like a person. Everything turned to shit during the course of that year because I turned it to shit. The only notable similarity to now is the word 'control'. Little did I know.

This is a bad time. I can't extract certain aspects of the past (mistakes, decisions, etc.) and they are haunting me like never before. One of my most prized possessions disappeared in eleven due to my reckless frivolity, and the other was not far behind. The second was a watch which I reacquired some years later and then dumped again due to my finances being all fucked up. That was basically a repeat of what took place in eleven. The Slipper was the worst, however. My head can't let that go for a second. Never in my life had I been so proud as two occasions when I made huge purchases all on my own and without risk or worry. The idea of recovering from a hole in the ground and rising so far felt amazing and fulfilling unlike any other time in my life. Now? Both are gone and I am once again buried by my own limitations. This is not good to say the least. Compensation is the word in the title. I compensated for lacking feelings by gaining possessions. Right out of the fucking gate... Not good actions.

Between eleven and noon now, my routine is finished, laundry is rolling, and I have a fat fucking cocktail. The LDS guys are coming in less than three hours. I may not be the ideal conversationalist by then. Heh. I'm not worried about completing anything today, though. I feel somewhat stronger than yesterday's damned laziness, although I have no idea of why. Perhaps this is a good time for a religious discussion after all. Right now I don't really give a hoot in hell what happens, either. Good or bad? I am already bad.



67


Some of these problems have no basis in reality. Like the realization of the path upon which I arrived years ago, there may be something either shoved back or otherwise hidden from view right now that can help me to understand this feeling. I just don't fucking get it sometimes. If I dwell long enough, perhaps a thought will come to light and help me to understand why my moods run the gamut so often and end up leaving me exhausted by the end of each day. Honestly, I am fucking tired of this kind of mindset. Tired of thinking and then overthinking no matter what is going on during a given day or night. Usually the morning is when everything from the previous day becomes the subject of analysis, typically as soon as I pour the coffee and sit here with my friends. Fortunately, they are not at fault. Naturally, society has a say in what goes on up there, yet still I know it is fiction and am familiar enough to take everything in stride (perhaps that is what other people do). I am not terribly worried about the media I watch while alone, anyway. No one else there to observe or comment. Anyway, I need to learn if the realization I recently discovered has something to do with the other problems I've been dealing with since the beginning of the pandemic. Right now I don't know, but a correlation would not surprise me at all.

Wednesday after one of the most difficult Tuesdays ever. I don't know why I ended up so messed up by evening time. Out of nowhere, yet again. I hope there isn't something wrong with me.

The meeting with the LDS guys was fine. I believe the biggest impact upon me was the age difference, though. Not even the subject of conversation. I don't know why I agreed to meet with them in the first place. Should have known it would go south in my head. In fact, the day had already been heading in a bad direction before they even arrived. Nothing -- not even the quiet morning time -- went well yesterday. Just when I calculated that I was feeling strong and ready to tackle almost anything, out of left field came enough shit to put me down. But I kept going and paid for it later. The whole evening was crap.

This morning is little different, although physically I am not as bad. I guess it's mostly mental. Today may have to be more mellow aside from a trip to the cleaners. I can't have a repeat of last night. There is the usual stuff, some laundry and a few other items I can care for during the day. And now the morning stuff is out of the way and I have been left to my thoughts. This could not have come at a better time. Early, too. Not even eight in the morning. I need this period... The next several hours. Everything going on in my head must be given the space it requires for some sort of resolution. I can compensate myself for the day by seeking those devices which can bring joy. This morning I honestly have no idea what they may be, however. My head likely needs to calm before figuring anything. Right now I couldn't calculate my way out of a wet paper bag, and some of that shit is physical. I don't deal well with being unwell. Heh. Not funny. Anyway, I'll probably stick close to whatever brings me comfort today. None of the stuff in the garage is going to advance. The laundry might be ok but not yet.

Problems. The two events combined with my age are really gripping me this morning and there is no outlet nor another human being in the world with the power to simultaneously alleviate so much. Day after day they continue to plague my thinking and are beginning to limit what I can do as a person. I am talking about pretty much any aspect of daily living, honestly. Each step has become its own mountain. From the simplicity of those kitchen chores I used to drown within and find comfort to the never-ending laundry which other people seem to constantly complain about, not a moment passes in which I am distracted or content enough to relax and truly become a part of the day. There are moments, yet the bulk of what takes place during those hours is very difficult and has truncated my abilities.

Thursday. This is not easy anymore, nor does the content flow as I had hoped. Maybe it never did. I am losing direction for the Arina series. Everything begins to overlap and then I can't see clearly enough to articulate anything inside and get it to the screen. When combined with the need to cover up the critical parts, this is turning into a mess (already did?). I suppose if I leave out the heritage... That may help. Rather than overly bitching, I can avoid the subject and hopefully focus upon others. Losing my way is an understatement right now. I created that woman to organize everything. Now look at her... All over the place. The heritage is something too difficult to discuss anymore but it seems to creep in every now and then. I can't help it. Just like something drawing my attention from this little screen to the big one overhead, the research earlier this year pops up because it seems to have an affect upon everything I say or do.

If I leave that out of the content, Arina shrinks down some. And then the other one comes to mind... The glow. Gone forever, meaning I should leave that one alone, too, because all it does is create a hell of a gradient between then and now. Nothing seems to compare due to my outlook and future being so fucking dim these days. I've been boiled down to a fraction of what I once was. Every time I mention that wondrous time period, the mood goes south and I begin to lament everything from the largest problems in the world down to the tiniest annoyance. Nothing good ever comes of it. I can tell stories all day long, but in the end I will be exactly the same. Heritage and glow? Splash, I suppose.

What was all that other shit?

Friday morning after a little spell of thunder and lightning. Very rare for this area and typically brought-on by something crazy out over the Pacific. About three hours ago the sky was very entertaining. Back to sleep, and here I am.

Ah... One thing involved with Arina is the 'dream', yet that word continues to change from one week to the next. This morning it is in mind due to so much splayed across the big television (and that of the Goddess yesterday during my visit) combined with something I've been reworking since the beginning of this week. That project is to reorganize the images in folders for the purpose of minimizing the numbers in each. As the site grows, the number of images goes up, typically by four or more with each entry (there are more than 1500 images on the site as of this writing). While going through some of the entries -- most notably the most recent fiction -- I picked up a few words here and there which reinforce both my dream and the exposition you will read just after the next image of Cindy, also of note due to my stating she would be left out of this space for a while. Well, the truth is I am having a difficult time knowing what to display anymore. Anyway, the fiction carries with it much of my dreaming and daily thought processes, along with a smidgen of hope that some type of comfort from the past may eventually return. Thus, the dream. All that 'she is out there' crap from last year and then my dubious belief that the race girl was the subject of months of fruitless searching. Dream, dream, dream. I still don't know how to fully define such a word or what that woman may represent. Arina was going to be the dream and then she changed to problems, afterward morphing into a container for the most trying mindsets I've been carrying. A glimpse of sixth-season Jamie. Damn it. Whatever.

Right now the fact is everything has been reduced again. The two issues I mentioned above cannot easily be dealt with, meaning I should leave them alone for the time being and try to move forward with the others which may be less arduous. I don't know, however. Each day shows me that they shift positions with regard to importance when combined with whatever comes to mind throughout the course of time. The media, my routine and other work, and then the past behavior. I did all those things and sit here every fucking day with not only the past wreckage swirling in my head, but the worry over two possibilities: One, I remain as I am right now without solutions (miserable) despite so much effort in reaching and understanding, or two, I fly off the handle again and ruin every personal relationship in existence.



68


My horse died barely halfway around the track. There goes the six. We shall see about the two. Maybe I'll get a credit. Heh. I can compensate for almost anything these days, yet said effort leaves me more alone and in a deeper hole than before. Not good. Let us switch this for a while...

I have become Richard M., and I do not mean anything bad by such a statement. Thinking upon such an idea while out and about today drew a conclusion like Satan's own sword. I recall Richard with fond memories, always, and his personality was known to me after years of visiting his place of work and often tackling some projects while spending time fairly close. That was the period of my favorite career, short-lived as it was. The Phase Lock Girl was during that stretch, as well, and related to Richard due to all the time I spent at his place of work. I used to haul equipment to and from his company almost daily and sometimes several times a day. Later when I was more understanding of some of the procedures, I helped him with in-place calibration of certain items that were too large for moving to our lab. We also spent some time in his office coordinating the equipment and scheduling. Lots of conversations. I knew how he felt about the opposite sex because he was open to sharing. I also gleaned quite a bit through occasional remarks and body language. Richard was the most introverted and closed-off male I have ever known. He even pushed the limits of myself and those other three guys sitting on that same bench for lunch every day throughout four years of high school. Nerds? Maybe. Socially isolated? Oh yes. Awkward? Beyond that. Richard was similar and likely could have sat right there with us had we attended the same school. Well, what he allowed me to know way back then has become a large part of my personality within the last eighteen months. I haven't brought him here because I did not know how to do it in an understandable way. Awkward, needy, dreaming all the time. I knew him well enough to see it at each visit. Great guy, though. I mean that.

One shitty possibility I've been considering is that the blown-up dream in my head is far beyond real life and not feasible no matter who may be involved. The dream could be too much and completely unattainable. And I can't remember the other facet. Ah, yes... The industry. Well, that was a series of choices. Two industries, really, and the second was a failure of massive proportions which came about due to my being so fucking reckless for the better part of a year. I've already gone over that one in spades, and the other industry -- that magical, ethereal wonder of film -- is not something likely to happen because I am still full of fear. Moreover, the world is very different now, as am I. There is little motivation to 'reach' for anything these days. That leaves the 'dream' as pretty much the commander of Arina's fucking insides.

I brought up the Richard thing because he was desperate when it came to female companionship of any type. His age may have been just a touch more than mine, yet we were fairly similar in said regard. Whereas he sat in that big office and strolled around the building as necessary while gazing at those female employees and did nothing about it, I forced the issue and payed for them. No, not the girls at his company. Those in the world's oldest profession, albeit very pricey and full of class (believe it or not, they are truly out there). When I say forced, I mean I ran to the most abundant supply of available for-money companionship. Good or bad as it was, I did it anyway. The resulting mindset may have permanently skewed my view of desire and fulfillment. The heart is never involved in that profession. Never. Unless a person has a mass of resources at their fingertips and embraces what is referred to as the 'girlfriend experience', there is little to no emotion. Well, due to my diminished state as a 'man' combined with enormous desire, the embraces I sought meant much more than physicality. Fucking hell, why did I go into this? Ah... Because I may have a distorted picture of the world as a result of such behavior. As I have stated far too much, not good.

And now the other resulting shit from such a period... All that I have attempted in order to compensate for so much missing in life. What's that? Oh, yes... Not good. I am not in a good place with this stuff right now. The future is bleak as it stands to lose brightness due to my belaboring so much which cannot return. The future is being robbed blind by my weakness. Three and a half years ago I wrote about meeting Andrea, and thinking of my recklessness brought about a paragraph seemingly crafted as a perfect description of what took place back then, and still rings in my head each day:

'Finished with dinner and our roiling words, we went back to her home and spent the evening with the kids in front of the television. The whole picture was quite alien to me due to my preponderance for adult atmosphere and all that goes with it. And I mean EVERYTHING, for fuck's sake. High-priced call girls, lots of alcohol, a mass of endless drunken and reckless behavior, deviant sexual escapades, women with bourbon flowing all over their asses, breasts and labia, and there in the middle... Yours truly slurping all of it like a champion. Tens of thousands of dollars thrown to the wind in order to make any and all dreams (needs) a reality. The time spent gazing at and experiencing those picturesque women in all manner of positions along with every conceivable configuration added up to the negative space I began to inhabit combined with the diametric opposite of what I should have been attempting in order to survive. Rather than focus upon productive and positive aspects of everyday life, I chose to dive into the chaotic evil pool of my lowest common denominator. Without restrictions, I became a product of the deep, the obsessed, and the Godless circles which others have the good sense to avoid. All of the wreckage to myself and others was placed above the abilities that came naturally -- science, engineering, and any number of disciplines which had the power to push me upward and into the realm of the successful. I happily shoved everything aside for the illusion, the need, and the fucking obsession which was pressing me down into a hole, and I enjoyed every Goddamned second of it. Every. Fucking. Second. The drive... The unending desire which became my place in the world. I could not cease pushing myself toward and into the drunken desideration.'

Say it with me... Not good.

All this shit means there is likely a third part of my past which has created the person sitting here right now. My behavior was entirely up to me and could have come about partially due to the pain of the early eighties. Add to that the years of flying to Nevada and being exposed to the gaming culture which to this day remains dripping with sexual imagery. From a very young age I had all that crap in my head. Once free of every restraint and full of cash, I ran straight into the loving arms of the very same culture. See? Richard may not have done much, but I took the reins and wrecked myself through what he dreamed of. Forced.

Now look at me.

The two shit storms of the eighties helped me to turn inward (still there, for the most part) and dream much more than had neither taken place. I honestly believe that statement. If all this exploration generates the conclusion that little of what I have done is actually my fault, the world is going to pay the fuckin' tab.

Today is Friday and tomorrow is the twentieth anniversary of that terrible day. I am going to have the flags out, music in the background, and we are going to barbecue on the driveway. As of an hour before noon, I have the daily routine out of the way and straightened up a little. There are still more chores to do, but for now I am going to sit with this. Cats asleep, friends on the television (and one of the most difficult scenes passed as I cleaned the kitchen), and my morning hooch to the right. I noticed the little motherfuckers have built a highway to the green can again, and after seeing nothing there for several days. I'll have to get out there and slam them again. I still have some bait, too. Hopefully it will help. Once I chop more of the hedge, the material will help minimize temptation for both the little assholes and flies. At least such activity is only outside.



69


The realization and duality return again and again. I know what I am and both issues are related. Just yesterday we watched an episode of the fifth show and I had been concerned over the visuals. It came and went with little discussion, though. That is a good thing. Inside, however, the storm never dissipates for long.

Scrape.

The compensation is related to my realization a while back. They move along hand-in-hand, to be truthful. Often I say 'everything is related', yet the worst are the two in this paragraph. Duality is something I cannot spell out, either. Too personal and revealing, meaning I will hear it from whatever source and then react accordingly. I can't have that right now, so everything is blurry here once again. The fact is the duality comes to mind on and off every day -- mostly as it relates and can be exacerbated by the media -- and I have yet to find a coping method. Carmela's mom is a piece of work sometimes. What a character. Anyway, no matter whether I am alone or not, the issue of duality and what society has done with it are still a problem. Hard to take. The fact is, however I feel about the subject has directly stemmed from that second fucking shit situation from the early eighties. I can place blame all day long but it doesn't change anything, so I choose to continue seeking a solution. The duality and realization are born of both shit situations, to be honest. My largest issues with life... Right fucking there. Anything lacking inside me creates fear. That four-letter word spiders its way out and into anything related to the sexes or whatever limits have been applied. Fences I can see through without gates. Over there are 'those' people. On this side is me. I honestly wish I could spell this out right now. Jamie is so beautiful that sometimes I look at her and see the entire universe. Cindy is down the page again, too. The truth? Jamie's character squashes Cindy -- one of the most stirring faces I have ever seen -- like a tiny bug under the weight of the world. Don't read into my continuous gushing, either. There is zero meaning in my feelings. Jamie's character is fictional and Cindy is just a person. Oh fuck, that just brought on a huge thought. Yep, my double triple quadruple quintuple whatever-the-fuck standard. Well, I am so fucking weak and frail that the standard must remain in place or I will fall apart. The second shit situation from the eighties is responsible for my vast lack of confidence and absent self-esteem. Believe it, people.

Wow, that was a mouthful.

What the fuck am I doing here? The horse is dead and buried. Compensation? I have few options now. Two certainties remain: I am moved more by fictional characters and actors than I am by those in reality. James, for example, is so important to me that if I believed I could speak with him in the afterlife I would already be dead. Write that one down and shove it in your ass. The other certainty is I will be alone in such thinking because I created an impossible world full of impossible standards and see that world as the only comfortable place in existence. In short, whatever I am right now is all I will ever be.

The duality forces me to mask myself to the point of pain. It makes me want to make many people disappear from the earth. I am unfair. So are they. Fuck you. Tell me I am wrong. Go for it.

Some lyrics for you to enjoy:

'Need you
Dream you
Find you
Taste you
Fuck you
Use you
Scar you
Break you
Lose me
Hate me
Smash me
Erase me
Kill me
Kill me
Kill me
Kill me
Kill me
Kill me
Kill me
Kill me'

I can't fucking speak with anyone about this shit. In the past I went to a few therapists -- always female because I do not have a very high opinion of males primarily due to feelings toward myself -- and sat there worried over what each may think. Oh shit, there is Fiona again. God bless her. Fiona has that lower-face thingy that I still can barely define. The fact is I would talk to her about anything. And say it loud and clear: She is a fictional character. Ugh. There is no longer much chance that I will speak to a professional, though. By the time I defined everything and got around to the main subjects, I'd be five years older and fucking broke. Nothing solved. Just a bunch of complaining and worry. I don't need that. As for anyone out there in the world who is not a therapist, the recipient would be female. What does that mean? The issues would immediately get in the way of speaking about the issues. The whole shitaree is a circle yet again. So, I suppose all the crap placed here is the only way. There is Pastor Bob and his psycho eyes. He is the one who stated that humans and dinosaurs lived on the earth at the same time. Don't even get me started.

Jesus fucking God, one of 'those' scenes. My heart is so full of her that there is no more room. Are you tired of hearing about Jamie?

Scrapeage.

This day is going nowhere and I don't care. The horse is dead. Don't make me go back to the fucking blue dress and cavern. That is beyond bad. Too much of the dress and I end up more angry than I can put into words. I am heading down a steep slope right now...

Right there. Everything.
And then a look. Understanding.
Disbelief, yet so demanding.
Her eyes? The world. Soon... The landing.
The desire of life. Ever expanding.

Tell me about 'size' and eyes.
Regale me with your thinking.
Believe that I hear you without compensation of drinking.
Push thinking.
Watch the inkling.
She was right there, winking.

Diving into the sin of life.
There is no exit.
I was there.
The most powerful stare.
Now I am missing her bedsit.

The world may end soon. Steep slope. Reasons are vanishing.

Losing it.



70

There should be a law


'You are the biggest threat to yourself.' -- Annalisa Zucca

Evening. Dinner is in the oven, just like as told to Charlie, the poor guy. He almost didn't make it. I can sympathize to a point. There are no vampires after me right now (no, not the ones on the show). Something else is gaining, however. The day has shown me that weakness is akin to giving up on any semblance of passing those moments. Weakness. Floating, flying, falling... Without knowledge of the mind's bearing. Absent, black. The door floats ahead yet I cannot reach it. Jamie is up there, sixth season. Does it matter? She will be up there again and again until I make the decision to watch something else. Earlier today there was a comment regarding the fact that I have been watching this particular show every day for weeks. Well, that's where I am. Remember the statement above identifying those with which I am now enamored? It was not a joke. I have wrapped myself in a little world in which only I fit, others be damned. I don't care. For years I awaited some kind of escape from a society bent upon my destruction and now I have achieved it. I am here, for whatever it may be worth. Cocooned, closed off and encapsulated (not the essay of the same title). I found it. Will this be enough?

I can only dream of anything bigger because I crafted everything to lead me here and cannot move myself outside the security. All those ideas, shoved to the rear. The industry dream is gone... Too frightening. The opportunity of a lifetime was washed out to sea as I witnessed, and I led myself along a path which eventually destroyed the same. I did it, knowingly. I can only compensate for so much. The Richard realization means I will always be either in search of something which cannot exist or walking some other path while stepping on my own toes the entire way. Pick one. The glow is gone. The dream?

Tomorrow is the big anniversary of the horrible events of zero one. We are going to watch the baseball game in the late morning and then fire up the grill. All the while everything down this entry will be right behind my tired eyes. I tried to compensate for negatives and failed because more arose. Something each day, be it a thought or fear in my head, the words of another person, or some sort of reference reminding me that the fucking duality has won over or the fucking horse has lost its head for good. The jockey? There never was such a person. The horse was beyond control. Hmm... Control. There is another operative term regarding my present position in life. I guess the control took control.

Compensation be damned. I am completely fucked and shall never recover.

Do I keep searching for solutions? Or have those questions already been identified and answered? Two events did all this? Or was it more? Answer that one. All me? No fucking way. Society? It can only win if a person allows such a victory. Did I simply lay down and give up? Not yet, although I am pretty damned tired. And I have barely scratched the fucking heritage. Leave it alone, you say? Fuck you. Go study your own family tree. Some roots are fake and end up driving people out of their fucking minds, so unless you have been slapped with similar shit, shut the fuck up. If you have? I will listen, maybe. Pretty fucking closed up these days. Me with the fucking multi-standard which cannot apply to anyone else because I'm too selfish. Yep. There's a term for the ages, but at least I know it and have a pretty good idea of the genesis. Not. All. My. Fault. Fuckers. Just shut up. Leave me to my problems. This whole entry was to kill off an idea and it ended up a big mess.

Who cares, right?

Saturday, the twentieth anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. I altered the main index to follow suit. Oy, what a day.

I'll have to get going soon. To the market, out to the garage, a few other items to care for prior to the game this morning. I don't believe the day or my barbecue idea will be as big a deal as envisioned the other day. Celebration is not really appropriate for something like this, although it is a holiday. My idea was to simply gather and recognize the date, thinking of what took place back then. God damn does Manuela have long legs. Hmm. I never noticed her sitting off to the left in this scene. Yikes. Anyway, I suppose the game will be most of the draw today. The flags are out. Some feel a POW/MIA flag is only appropriate on Veterans and Memorial days, but I feel it is necessary due to the conflict born of 9/11. It's out there flying right now to the left of the American flag. They will remain until sundown. Four hours to the game, some things to do. All of the drive yesterday which pushed the above sections here is nearly gone and I am tired. Damn, I never realized that woman is my height. No wonder her features are all stretched. Whatever. She does not change my day or anything else.

This may be too much for me to clarify or learn. I seem to move along similar lines with whatever the most important subject is at the time, and then bitch for a while before either switching topics or giving up altogether. For the time being I am going to accept the idea that those two shit events from decades back have become the strongest forces shaping my desires and dreams, and whatever else has come along cannot be resolved in real time. Biggest threat to myself, indeed. Have I been dwelling? Or has this been appropriate considering the depth of feeling and circumstances? Eh... I don't need your opinion, so shut up again. Rhetoric, anyway. Most of my questions are still inside due to needing privacy. I don't understand why Benny went after Martina -- fucking stunning as she was -- when sitting right next to him was his unbelievably gorgeous wife with her big, dark, beautiful eyes. What a fucking face. Oh sure, Martina was exotic and slender and all that other shit, but please... His wife put that woman to shame, and that while being pregnant. What a dork. Where was I? Acceptance? I don't know. Ah, the questions no one sees or hears. One of them encompasses everything... All the aspects of me. Troubling, that one, because I still don't know. I may never know. I'm supposed to be ending the association between my insides and the woman I created to hold everything. Originally she was a pile of actions and decisions, then became tons of other shit, now she is falling apart and I believe it's the right thing to do. I keep trying to put everything in understandable terms but continue to fall down. Too much, indeed.

I am looking forward to the quiet of Monday morning. This weekend will be fairly haphazard and rather busy with company and garbage and everything. Maybe football too. So Monday will once again be the big inhale after my weekend with other people. I have never seen a pair of breasts more ideally-shaped than Alicia's. I captured images of that scene some years ago but have left them out of this content out of respect for the woman. Right now I feel like displaying her two incredible parts directly below this paragraph. Call me what you will, but her shape is an enigma, especially considering a glimpse of her chest also shows off ribs, which may inflame some opinions regarding 'thin'. Well, whatever. Her globes are unreal. Another paragraph interrupted or otherwise derailed by something on the screen and attached to a female body. What a rig I've become. My whole life, interrupted by beauty so many times that I no longer have a path to follow. Big surprise, Alicia is one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen and captured in time just like the others. I can keep her in that little compartment with Jamie and Jolene and whomever. Crazy person. I need what I need. Shut up.

Sunday morning after a partial shindig next door which kept me up a little later than usual last night. I am starting out slow, but I'm not worried about the rest of the day. Tomorrow will be worth whatever difficulty comes along before then. Sitting here right now I can already feel anticipation. The peace, quiet and space I need so badly sometimes. I am beginning to believe that the busy weekends actually help me appreciate being alone on Monday and whatever other days are mine during the week.



71


I dreamed a long one this time. There was an Asian woman whom I literally LOVED but she was having trouble. She was constantly agitated about something as if she had to go somewhere unattractive. I can't be sure right now because some of the imagery has faded. I recall her standing there before me -- super tall and thin, like just shy of being unhealthy -- with the beginnings of tears and looking at me as if she was frightened. She had to leave for some reason and I was going to miss her deeply. A very sad scene there on the sidewalk of the city. Next to me was another woman I believe was very familiar to me and she seemed to think the Asian woman leaving was very important. She was supportive yet firm. I felt so much for the Asian woman that I thought I might lose my mind if anything was to happen to her. Stepping away from her and letting go as directed was frightening.

The woman was wearing nothing more than a very small thong. I don't know why. Super thin.

And then I was walking along the street in a hell of a hurry but did not seem to be gaining on anyone. Just walking without the ability to increase speed despite my need to get somewhere. And then the second woman next to me again. We stumbled upon a car with music blaring and I knew the guy inside. He was laying down in a makeshift bed surrounded by all sorts of devices and memorabilia from the past. I needed his advice to proceed. I may have been looking for him and it felt like the second visit along with the woman next to me. We needed something from him but I can't recall. The woman was involved somehow, too. Everything else is going away, so no more commenting. If I don't remember, this will be all convoluted.

I need to go out to the store in a few for a battery and then return and get a couple of chores out of the way to make room for the football game and some lunch. This afternoon I will come back and do my usual Sunday garbage business. All the while, that morning will be floating just beyond my grasp until I care for everything today and put on my patience cap. One step at a time.

I don't believe I can remove the stigma attached to that most elusive of words and all I have thrown to the wind in order to understand. Validation, identification, and/or definition. None of those can play out without first knowing the root cause is true, and as been propelled -- truthfully -- by two defining moments from the long past. Is it possible that everything grew out of them? Or am I so weak-minded that I'm reaching? I don't know. My psychology degree is in my other pants. Anyway, I don't see a way out of this other than continuing in such a vein for the duration, and that does not seem like a solution of any kind... Only more of the same.

The Monday morning which helps the rest of the week seem worthwhile.

Another dream, and this one unnerving. I could not turn on the living room lights for some reason. The office was a bit out of sorts and I had been customizing a light fixture. A few tests showed there was a problem, so I decided to leave the room and find better lighting to work on something. There was a pile of material in both my hands. As I walked toward the back of the house, I felt quite a bit of wind pushing me in the other direction, as if I had too many windows open during a storm. I could barely move along the hallway. Upon reaching the edge of the living and dining rooms, I called to the Echo for lights but nothing happened. I wasn't frightened there in the dark, just annoyed. I needed to know what was taking place but couldn't see anything. The more I tried to figure out how to light up the situation, the more irritated my mood. And then before any clarity, I awakened. Very strange, but at least there was no thin Asian girl causing confusion this time.

Sunday was fine. We didn't get anything done, though. The lamp situation remains unchanged, but at least they are both operational. Lunch and the remainder of the football game, plus a bit of the baseball game. We came back here for a little while so I could transfer the remote to her and take care of some business. I had stuff done by early evening and then took it easy for a little while until making dinner. My sludge morning turned into a decent day with lots of visiting. Not bad. Pitch dark out there right now. I am up earlier than usual for whatever reason.

We have the streaming media business pretty well worked out. We are splitting the live television subscription cost which means I can now dump the cable box. Pause.

Well, I just caused a massive interruption of Internet services in the house due to changing my connection plan while watching television coming through the very same service. Oopsie. Anyway, I successfully dumped the television and phone services, effectively reducing the plan to Internet only. That means a monthly cost drop of three-quarters. Excellent. The entire point of all this research and change was to reduce costs per month and get rid of hundreds of channels we do not use. Now they are gone. Phone is gone, too. By going to the site and making the change first thing this morning, the show I was watching came to a crashing halt and all the devices lost connection for a few minutes. That was hilarious. At least it's all done now. I still have to add two other streaming services so I can have my favorite shows, but otherwise the new setup is wonderful.

'Your problems are not going to just go away, David.'

No shit, counselor. All the peripheral business and tertiary concerns serve to keep me comfortable here at home and content while taking care of the house and its contents, however the underlying worries continue to reside right behind my eyes. There was the realization of what I have been attempting in order to learn of what I am, and then the idea that my value is for naught without that female soul underneath and holding me up. This is bad. The other stuff? A quickie... Glow? Just a memory which forces me to constantly compare where I am as opposed to where I was, plus the world then versus now. Not good. I should not be leaning on that period because it will only illuminate the bad parts of the present. Industries? Film will never leave my head because I must sit here and lament the fact that I did not take the chance. The other industry burned away due to my stupidity. That sort of relates to the dream because of a beautiful woman attached to my hip. I leveraged the world to be what I needed and destroyed the future in the process. Now both industries are gone for good. The heritage is something rather numb at present. The issue of learning what I did early this year seems to be minimized by the rest of this crap. Soon this content must reflect the impending simplicity of everything I have been exploring lately. There is no longer need to belabor some things.

Today. I'll have to get everything in order during my alone time to make up for being rather busy over the weekend. This is funny... I used to worship all of Saturday and part of Sunday, whereas now they are merely pauses in the more important parts of each week. Thinking of today is nice because I'll have the space to myself along with peace and quiet in less than an hour. Changing the media and subscriptions have me a tad on edge because I'm not usually comfortable altering this little space, but the greater good will be served along with knowing all my most important shows will be available to me for the duration. Some aspects of this house absolutely must remain the same or I'll be very uncomfortable. That means my mood will very quickly cause me to strike at other people and that is not good. I might still be a pain in others' asses, but that does not mean I will be unfair unless completely necessary. So, lots of laundry after having left it alone since last week, organization to have everything in order and neat, and then possibly a little bit of work out in the new office. Saturday morning I cleaned up the wall above my toolbox and the space is now ready for the beer tap handles to go up. I'd like to have that whole part of the garage looking good before Halloween. That is the most likely occasion upcoming in which I'll have my lights on out there. In addition, we went all through a bunch of storage over the weekend in search of some old watches which may have been donated some years ago. Having gone into the closets and rafters, I have a renewed sense of organization. I can also get rid of some crap. Plenty to keep me busy today, all the while with my friends in the background. Everything in its place.



72


A touch after eight in the morning and the house is mine. I've been waiting for this. Now I can be free to work with my devices and chores. I have the show on and a little coffee left. After having summarized everything within the above paragraphs, I honestly do not know what to say. Either I can focus upon the day or sit here and wonder what to do next. There seems to be nothing beyond that realization and I cannot go into it here. I may be stuck on the rails for a while.

Tuesday has arrived without fanfare and I don't even know what I did yesterday. The entire cable television and streaming media situation is complete and in place as of this morning, but other than that process which began yesterday I have no idea what I did. Laundry, kitchen, and the rest of the routine, yes, but aside from the usual? I don't know. I sent a message to the LDS guy to let him know I need some space, though. Right now is not a good time for me to be discussing religion with people whose sole purpose is to recruit. Not good. I'll end up being abrasive. Yesterday seems to be a sort of blur now. I know not why. This morning has been spent working out the subscription for one premium channel so I can continue watching some of my shows, and now I have but a few minutes before the preparations must be completed. After? I'll have my space at last. Today I am going to carry forward with more laundry and possibly mount the tap handles in the garage. I am not necessarily motivated to make it look nice, but moreso in needing things straightened up out there. Too much crap sitting around. I also need to go through the donation boxes and list everything so I can run over to the Goodwill and drop it off.

All alone for the day.

Scrape again, but I guess it doesn't matter. Ashley is gone.

I switched to the vampires because we will be watching the gangsters here and there and I have no wish to overload my thinking. I haven't watched this stuff in a while, so something different for a while.

The realization is ruling. I cannot alleviate it, nor is there a way around the outside of something so enormous. The industries are memories and losses, yet the idea of how I became what is sitting here right now has become a two-thirds majority over which there can be no recount. So, I continue to compensate for both my past and that fucking issue of duality and all of the bullshit which flies around as a result of the same, and then sit here and wonder what can be done. Thus far, not very much. Not only are the key points missing or covered with dirt, but the idea of working alongside my daily problems while wrestling with the past and spouting everything here is becoming very tiring. The six was there when I realized what happened with Ashley and Eleanor, the two rose to prominence when I calculated that I can put some things aside and be 'mostly' ok heading into the future, however nothing lit up the hope of everything being even.

No six, no two, and nowhere near even. I still don't know what to do. Arina was an idea that went nowhere after being built, became scrutinized and organized, and then subsequently fell apart. Maybe there never was anything there.

Like the horse, Arina is dead."



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