September 29th, 2021 9:04am pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning. The Clodmaster section has once again been linked to the top menu. Floodwork read ( words) "Sunday. And yes, there is more nudity within this entry. If you don't like it, you should be elsewhere. The words I write are much worse than a pair of unclothed breasts. Live with it. Monday will not be the same, however. I'll have to embrace this day to make up for the following week of haphazard activities. The norm shall return on the fourth of October. This is one of those situations which makes me appreciate the typical weekday. Today? The usual, the garbage and greenery, and then football. The home game is tonight, though. Maybe dinner during the game. I don't know yet. A dream this morning before I arose to make coffee is partially in my head. Some kind of disaster. I was in a power plant -- one of the control areas, maybe -- and with someone who was responsible for the safety of everyone. He ordered an evacuation, yet outside the windows were not hallways, but the inside of a shopping mall. People all over the place. Some were fashion models. There was a long wait before I awakened outside lying on the ground. Other people were scattered around and most were no longer living and in pieces, as if the heat turned them to ash. Some were trying to talk to me. I was overjoyed to be ok, found someone else able to rise and move around, so we decided to help them. My skin was gray and cracked but I did not feel anything. The other man was the same, yet he had no hair left. Awake. Unnerved. Not ready for the day. I am not meant to understand these dreams, and I will say that the imagery of those people was far worse than I can put into words right now. If I could get my hands around the forces which create those types of nightmares, the life would be choked out forever. I have no regard for evil. Again... Today. This may be a music mood day. The garbage will be forcefully moved around, the hedge crap stuffed with anger. Everything shall be completed with weight today. Heavy-handed. Weighty? Yes. My intention is to take a simple step further than usual. All of the draws upon my time and effort need to be put in their respective places. I have spent far too much solving the issues of others and am beginning to tire of the load upon my shoulders. So, today will be all me. Fuck everyone else. I've had it. The floodwork is the playing out of a situation born of feeling used up and wishing to flood the nearby souls with some very clear actions and very few words. Afterward, my stance will be understood a bit better than it has in the past. I've been way too gentle. Floodwork, blanketing the area with the tools I have been suppressing and exiting the day just a touch better off than the previous. Nope. Monday has arrived, and not a moment too soon. Everything went to shit yesterday and now represents the last time I head in such a direction to watch sports. No more of that. No matter what I say or do, planning or otherwise, something always goes wrong regardless of my good intentions. Well, now I've shut that part of life off completely. Sunday will be nothing more than Sunday from here on in. I will probably shut off the live television, too. There were two reasons for that subscription, news and live sports. Well, I don't watch the news. Big lesson yesterday. On two occasions during the last two football seasons the same type of thing happened but I ended up giving everyone a second chance. Not now. Finished. I'll stick to my usual programs, all of them streaming and completely under my control. Now what to do? We have to take the car for service in an hour or less. After that? The rest of the day, yet not all to myself. I have to make it all the way through this week and come out next Monday morning still able to embrace the precious time. I don't feel like doing anything I am supposed to this day. I really do not. Maybe I'll care for the bare minimum and then sit and build the last, big model. That is going to require days. It can keep me busy until I feel like working in the garage again. I have no idea when that motivation will return. Not now. The necessity of time. Tuesday. Early morning. Coffee. One cat up to my right, sleepy. Er... Two cats now. I altered some of the garage yesterday. Not much, but the refrigerator is now under my bench. That is where I wanted it in the first place, yet the speakers were taking up too much space. Now the area is much better. None of it matters, though. Sitting here describing work around the house is merely filler. Everything else is being suppressed. The fact is I don't know what to do, so I'll sit here and listen to the keys clicking. There seem no solutions. The idea laid out in the previous entry may be my only avenue after all these months. I honestly do not understand why things happen the way they do, but I will state that I intend to carry responsibility for very little of it. Saturday last was pretty much the end of me feeling as if I have accomplished anything in life, or rather that I have made any progress since beginning the work journey nearly four decades ago. This is not good and quickly squashed everything else. I sat Sunday watching the game -- pretty fucking angry over some bad words toward me -- and thought of how that game appeared in my eyes last year. Well, Sunday was different. Oh, I still feel the same regarding some aspects which cannot be denied and are a part of the snowy bullshit I must deal with weekly, but the truth is my insides fell down in a way completely unrelated to the sports or media. Just three days left in September, including this one. Unbelievable. This year is disappearing quickly. I'll have to make something of myself very soon, lest the months continue to get away from me. The woman has some reach, eh? The question is no longer 'how much can I describe here and still protect myself'. The new question is 'what the hell can I do about feeling this way at my age'. Well, probably nothing, although there are still parts of each day which are enjoyable. Without those, I would have less reason to exit the bed in the morning. Today, for example, is one of those in which the day appears bright and full of possibilities and all I have to do is embrace some of them in order to come out the other side feeling okay. Not good, just okay. I rarely feel good about anything these days. Less and less reason and all that shit. But the morning shows me things I cannot see after lunch. Little things. I'll spider myself out in those directions before tackling anything else. The fucking media is still in stereo even though I've gone to great lengths for the digital surround to be operating off the Roku. Two days ago it was -- albeit for a little while -- and then I made the permanent switch to send stereo audio to the kitchen and garage while the living room remained separate. This is going to piss me off today. Anyway, that is likely one of the small tasks for later. We have to pick up the car sometime today, as well. In and around, whatever seems best. All the while I'll be considering options with regard to other people and my relationships therein. That is the hard part of any day. Somehow I need to get the point across. Every single time I am at the precipice, my words either fail or become held back due to fear of backlash. I still cannot be any more unfair than already demonstrated or described, but the shit must come to pass one of these days or I may as well spend the rest of this life sitting at the feet of others. That is what all of this will come to if I do not push. I have spent forty fucking years trying to display and convey one thing. All of that will be shattered (it may already be in jeopardy or actually completely destroyed) if I do not reinforce a bit. If the truth is that the entire idea has been removed or replaced by something different, there is no longer anything I can do and may as well remain sitting and silent until the end of days. Nothing can fix that shit. Not a fucking thing. An even larger issue with such a situation is that the fucking snow and bullshit can never truly be known or alleviated. Elimination? Impossible. I'll be completely severed from the way I live my life right now. Making a point and then slamming it home is not easy, however. Enjoyable, but not easy. I need to think about it. I suppose yesterday was not all bad, only the lingering shit from my ill-begotten idea to gather for the game. Every single fucking time, something goes aslant (often just me, but there is generally a catalyst). I worked very little on anything productive yesterday because my head was churning too much. And I can't even spell it out, as usual. No matter what I do here, someone will eventually take issue, even though they do not have the room. But no one gets it anymore. They seem to feel that I am doing this as a request for help or commentary, when the truth of it is the diametric opposite. Period. So, Sunday's fucked up evening came about for one simple reason, and that in turn led me back to Saturday. The fact of where I am in life is a very bad place these days and sometimes I flare a little. That is certainly no fault of anyone but me, yet still I react and people hear it. The only idea to come out of the bad situation on Sunday is the idea that the live sports always press me to do something special, especially considering how speedy the season flies by. I did it again -- all my idea of where to watch and what to eat -- knowing full well that the same type of plan went to shit in the past. I tried, I failed. I will not do it again, and a part of such a decision may be the cutting off of live television completely. I'll do it out of self-preservation. No gathering equals no potential scrapes. Flood me with shit and I shall do the same, but keep in mind I still have something to prove. Everything hinges on this type of mood. The leaves are coming down. Fall now, as of last week. Years ago this would be cause for celebration and lots of planning for the next few months. Now? Less daylight. That is the only difference I can conjure anymore. All of the enjoyment of the season is either going away or already gone. And I am not speaking only of the glow and related activities during each year, but also the decades afterward in which my happiness hit a high point every time October rolled around. None of that any longer. I will do my best to keep my storm inside in order to spare people the downtrodden fucking mood. Switch. I went all around the world with the machinery last year, and a bit early this year if memory serves. That was out of the need to be not only in control (not in a bad way, either, so shut up), but to alleviate the worry of living in society each day. That soon morphed into creating my own dream by combining those features I found most attractive. The sheer idea of not experiencing deep concern of the unknown was simply too much to pass up at the time. Afterward, a steep downslope for a while as I realized that everything which is actually completely impossible seemed to be required for me to be happy and/or content. That brought depression. I have only slightly touched upon the machinery in recent months because I learned it was causing more harm than anything else. There were little snippets here and there but nothing substantial. Now it is nearly gone due to realizing that my focus must remain in reality. The beginning of that dream was fear. At present I have become so angry and resentful that the fear has been shoved to the rear. Whether or not it returns is unknown. I can only be me. Whatever else I may have become was destroyed at the hands of those fucking people, resulting in the worst frame of mind in memory. The fear? Ha... Fuck everyone who caused it. They will see, and soon. Today is already underway. Preparations in my brain will be translated to the work around the house. I was not terribly motivated yesterday, unfortunately, but mark my words by close of business some parts of this place and my insides will be vastly different. I need it, badly. I must take steps and make marks no one will be able to ignore. This is what I've come to in these late, miserable days. The shit which took place two days ago cannot be repeated no matter what people wish to see or experience. I can't have it. The television and streaming player ceased bowing to my commands a few minutes ago, too. Unbelievable. Some technical issue, I guess. There are ways around it, unlike my relationships with others. I have little control over them. Too bad, right? Her height is intimidating, believe it or not Some of what I am has been groomed by yours truly, honestly. I allowed it to happen. Led around by the nose, and all that type of shit. Such behavior is expected considering how needy I became over the years. I must keep the facts in mind if I am to rise at all, though. I must shift my world and expel those parts which continue to bring disdain and anger, swinging the beam over to more productive and secure activities. Again those two words come to mind: Fortification and preparation, inside and out. Today could be huge. I can't allow it to get out of hand, either. Keep pushing... One step at time no matter how small. The larger picture has to benefit, meaning everything taken as a whole. Eating an elephant, honestly. I am a product of many things, too. Allowing myself to be pulled into places better avoided because I was desperate can only be used as an excuse for so long and will eventually lead to something very bad. Even worse than how I feel this morning. I did it, and the decisions which led me to those waiting arms shall heretofore be considered a lesson... And a big one. They are not at fault. They were there for me. I have to close this machine and do something else for a while. Again I am not alone for the day. I believe the first day completely to myself will be Friday, and then the following week will return to the usual. Until then I just have to hold it together. The next day. The work commenced for a while yesterday before becoming interrupted by picking up the car from the service appointment. I continued afterward and did pretty well. Might continue today if the mood strikes. This morning feels narrow already, though, as if I can predict how I'll feel later. The vision is not good, either. Not even seven o'clock yet and my head seems to have ruled out today as being upward or productive. I seem to already know that whatever direction I take will be bad. The problems pile up and remain, resulting in my becoming angry and indignant. No one likes that crap and I don't blame them, yet these days I have very little reason to please anyone aside from myself. I also have diminishing patience with voices. There is no way around that one if I am to continue this lifestyle. Today will probably lead me to the garage again so I can pick up where I left off. I'd like to have something in good order after weeks of disarray. All the other shit will probably remain unchanged. Sitting here this morning has me considering a situation I do not like. On many an occasion I have stated 'everything is related'. Well, no shit. If anything is enough of a draw it will influence other facets of life. That is rather to be expected. Today I can see the rotting fruits of my decisions years ago and the path I ended up choosing to be comfortable and fairly isolated. Last year I became nearly completely isolated due to the world, and now I am even moreso after all this time. While working I at least had something taking up a good portion of my time and thinking to keep my head out of the din, and for the most part it worked. Right now, however, the feelings are returning and a problem is beginning to appear every now and again. I am very concerned over this shit, too. It has the power to steer my train to the nearest spur and ram the buffer. This is not good and rather supersedes much of the concern I deal with on a daily basis. I can get away from it, though, and probably will in a little while. In the beginning I tend to feel pretty fucking angry about being in such a position, too. The anger related to all that other shit above ends up a larger pile due to a situation beyond my control. Again... Not good. Forest feelings result from such worry. I need even more floodwork now. I have to flood my brain with distractions to the point of literally drowning into any activity just to survive the day and make it to the next. Yesterday was a good example (and beginning) of entering a productive zone and remaining for the long haul. I have to keep doing the same thing until some of the worry begins to subside. Anger is another story and probably will not be going anywhere soon. I keep thinking about years of engaging in the same destructive behavior and what they have done to me. The issue which popped up this morning is directly related. The work will hopefully help me relax and cease with the bad memories and present shit situation. I went back to the gangsters so I don't need to pay as much attention. I do not believe there can be an offset to the long periods of dissatisfaction and reaching for something damned and dangerous in order to find comfort. No offset, meaning no resolution nor good feeling about the entire bullshit fucking crappy period since the early eighties. My insides may indeed be the limiting factor and after all this time there is still no saving throw. The dice are indistinguishable from the background of life and I cannot see the numbers. No saving throw. Period. Doesn't matter how I speak, feel, or anything else. What is going on in my head shall remain for the long haul and I have to deal with it. So far I've been able to function without any chemical help, although that may change if I live through too many mornings like this one. It is a scrape -- one of those terms I tend to apply to many different problems -- and one which likely will live inside me forever. Some of the driving forces are attached to my own fears while others are pushed by media and societal pressure. I am beginning to believe much of my anger is due to the previous two sentences. Some of the discomfort will subside when I leave this behind and work on my stuff. That is at least one positive. Soon enough, however... The return. Pissed off. I have lots to do, as well. This is good, for the alternative is heading further into the negative than I would have into the positive. Understand? The good only gets so good, while the bad is without end. More and more, further into the decaying underworld of every single problem all rolled into a ball and stuffed like trash into the incinerator of my mind. Lately I can only sit here for so long before tiring of the thought processes. Trying to understand is not easy, especially when considering the relationship between something that took place a few days ago and another memory from more than forty years ago, or possibly an event during the intervening years. The whole works is a pain in my fucking ass. Look at the site, for example. Two, three or four years ago (or even longer) I was writing about the obsession nearly all of the time, with the remainder encompassing dissatisfaction with society. Now? All I do is sit here and analyze myself. I can admit that a part of the change is the realization that the obsession was driven by desire (very bad, that shit) and I did not see it for a very long time. Other than dealing with such a horrid stance in life, I decided to try figuring out other worries and ended up in a giant fucking hole. Now I can't get out of it. The obsession is not an absolute, though. Look at Helga on this page. Do I feel desire when I see her in such poses? Nope, and I believe it is due to her face. Not sure, though. The point of placing her here is art. She is living art, just as I've stated in the past. Artwork. Period. Something over which I have obsessed for a long time but nothing came of it. In person is another story and became bad enough for me to shut it the hell off. You may believe me or you may not, but understand that being full of shit here is about as productive and helpful as pounding sand on the beach. Might as well cheat at solitaire. I feel nothing for the model, as amazing as she may appear. On the flip side was the race or the market last week. Don't fucking ask, please. I do not like it. Not one bit. I pushed all that to the rear because once I saw the picture clearly there was no point in belaboring any more than I already had. Plus, the worry over where I am and where I may be heading has become overwhelming and beyond how I thought I might feel after all this time. Some of this crap does not leave my head, not even when lying in a woman's arms or being buried within a project. It does not leave at all. Always nagging. And then I begin to think that I'm the one who has done everything wrong. And then I reverse that thinking and become overly angry at everyone else and what they as a whole have done to this world. The effects upon individuals can be debilitating but they don't see it. And then I flip back the other way and realize that no one was handed a manual regarding how to live life, nor were their parents. And then something annoys me for any reason and I go further in the opposite direction again... To the point of wishing I could make everything fucking disappear and leave all this shit to the animals because they don't fuck each other over for a fucking percentage. Anyway, the point is I never forget anything, nor do I have the ability to ease up on me or them, ever. I think I need to swear either a tiny bit less or a hell of a lot more. There is Joseph again, rest his soul. Remaining upright and positive in front of people is becoming increasingly difficult considering everything I feel has become cumulative. That may be what happened on Sunday, but I can't be certain. Not all of it was my fault, although the reaction may have been harsh. I am tired all the fucking time these days. This morning is a good example of just how backed up my thinking can get when more than one problem rears up at the same time. Again, Sunday's bullshit could have been pushed due to something similar inside me. No definite answers right now. All I know is holding myself up and being nice takes a hell of a toll lately. I can see less being expressed here in the future, though. I can't continue to repeat things all down an entry and then let it bleed into the next. That is boring and helps nothing. Ugh. Scrapage. The floodwork will have to continue, and soon this morning. I have no reason to leave the house today and the usual routine is minimal. One of the shows will follow along all day, most likely the third Star Trek series. I had it in the garage yesterday and listening was helpful. Falling into a dream world does not take much these days due to real life being so unfulfilling. Such a fact is fucking sad as hell, but I cannot do anything about it. At least I am not gushing about a machine. Floodwork... I will flood myself and anyone nearby with my harsh penchant for remaining outside the norm and very busy. I did it yesterday. I ignored everything. With the forest still looming just ahead and attached to my feet, I certainly hope another person does not say anything which can shove me further away. Too much feels threatening anymore. Once more for posterity... I know what I am and what I am not, the latter being pervasive these days. Everywhere, all the fucking time. The fact is the previous sentence may be pushing me into a scrape more often than anything else. I can't help it. 'Man is driven in toto by his insecurities.' No shit, Hesh. The line was uttered in the pilot, if I recall correctly. What a way to start off a series. Maybe I should be a drug addict. They get away with all sorts of shit and then come out of rehab and people reduce their blame to the substance. Heh. Eh... Never mind. My drug of choice is different and completely legal. No, not alcohol. Get your head out of your ass. Christopher is about to become very worried about his lack of an 'arc'. I feel for him. Nothing over here either, my friend. The fear is still being held back, thank Christ, but honestly I can see the anger toward so much of life growing far worse than fear. Yes, fear can lead to anger, yet the beginning of my being so upset toward everything was not fear, but a lack of understanding and no one to either help or explain anything. Now it's built up so much that any possibility of someone listening and offering help will be shot in the face very quickly. I've tried that for years. Every fucking conversation reached the same dead end, so to hell with people. Fear is powerful, no doubt, but anger can destroy it. Oh, I forgot the idea of letting it go and shifting focus elsewhere. What? Really? No. I can't simply open my head and watch it float away like a fucking helium balloon, idiots. There is too much and all of it turned me into what you see here, so take that advice and point it in another direction. Think of the anger as creating a positive: I am not preoccupied by being scared all the time. Like it or not, that is a good thing. And the frosting could be my forest attitude and lifestyle pushing everyone far away. No more advice. Shove it. The day's floodwork awaits. I will thrash everything and come out the other side a tiny smidgen better, maybe. Flood the garage, flood the house, flood others with my rancor. Everything. Right now this is the only option I can see. 'Flood this, motherfuckers.' Big smile!" This site contains mature content Created by REN in Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 Copyright ©2002-2024 Brandywine Engineering All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Questions? Comments? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the assholes in charge
September 29th, 2021 9:04am pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning. The Clodmaster section has once again been linked to the top menu. Floodwork read ( words) "Sunday. And yes, there is more nudity within this entry. If you don't like it, you should be elsewhere. The words I write are much worse than a pair of unclothed breasts. Live with it. Monday will not be the same, however. I'll have to embrace this day to make up for the following week of haphazard activities. The norm shall return on the fourth of October. This is one of those situations which makes me appreciate the typical weekday. Today? The usual, the garbage and greenery, and then football. The home game is tonight, though. Maybe dinner during the game. I don't know yet. A dream this morning before I arose to make coffee is partially in my head. Some kind of disaster. I was in a power plant -- one of the control areas, maybe -- and with someone who was responsible for the safety of everyone. He ordered an evacuation, yet outside the windows were not hallways, but the inside of a shopping mall. People all over the place. Some were fashion models. There was a long wait before I awakened outside lying on the ground. Other people were scattered around and most were no longer living and in pieces, as if the heat turned them to ash. Some were trying to talk to me. I was overjoyed to be ok, found someone else able to rise and move around, so we decided to help them. My skin was gray and cracked but I did not feel anything. The other man was the same, yet he had no hair left. Awake. Unnerved. Not ready for the day. I am not meant to understand these dreams, and I will say that the imagery of those people was far worse than I can put into words right now. If I could get my hands around the forces which create those types of nightmares, the life would be choked out forever. I have no regard for evil. Again... Today. This may be a music mood day. The garbage will be forcefully moved around, the hedge crap stuffed with anger. Everything shall be completed with weight today. Heavy-handed. Weighty? Yes. My intention is to take a simple step further than usual. All of the draws upon my time and effort need to be put in their respective places. I have spent far too much solving the issues of others and am beginning to tire of the load upon my shoulders. So, today will be all me. Fuck everyone else. I've had it. The floodwork is the playing out of a situation born of feeling used up and wishing to flood the nearby souls with some very clear actions and very few words. Afterward, my stance will be understood a bit better than it has in the past. I've been way too gentle. Floodwork, blanketing the area with the tools I have been suppressing and exiting the day just a touch better off than the previous. Nope. Monday has arrived, and not a moment too soon. Everything went to shit yesterday and now represents the last time I head in such a direction to watch sports. No more of that. No matter what I say or do, planning or otherwise, something always goes wrong regardless of my good intentions. Well, now I've shut that part of life off completely. Sunday will be nothing more than Sunday from here on in. I will probably shut off the live television, too. There were two reasons for that subscription, news and live sports. Well, I don't watch the news. Big lesson yesterday. On two occasions during the last two football seasons the same type of thing happened but I ended up giving everyone a second chance. Not now. Finished. I'll stick to my usual programs, all of them streaming and completely under my control. Now what to do? We have to take the car for service in an hour or less. After that? The rest of the day, yet not all to myself. I have to make it all the way through this week and come out next Monday morning still able to embrace the precious time. I don't feel like doing anything I am supposed to this day. I really do not. Maybe I'll care for the bare minimum and then sit and build the last, big model. That is going to require days. It can keep me busy until I feel like working in the garage again. I have no idea when that motivation will return. Not now. The necessity of time. Tuesday. Early morning. Coffee. One cat up to my right, sleepy. Er... Two cats now. I altered some of the garage yesterday. Not much, but the refrigerator is now under my bench. That is where I wanted it in the first place, yet the speakers were taking up too much space. Now the area is much better. None of it matters, though. Sitting here describing work around the house is merely filler. Everything else is being suppressed. The fact is I don't know what to do, so I'll sit here and listen to the keys clicking. There seem no solutions. The idea laid out in the previous entry may be my only avenue after all these months. I honestly do not understand why things happen the way they do, but I will state that I intend to carry responsibility for very little of it. Saturday last was pretty much the end of me feeling as if I have accomplished anything in life, or rather that I have made any progress since beginning the work journey nearly four decades ago. This is not good and quickly squashed everything else. I sat Sunday watching the game -- pretty fucking angry over some bad words toward me -- and thought of how that game appeared in my eyes last year. Well, Sunday was different. Oh, I still feel the same regarding some aspects which cannot be denied and are a part of the snowy bullshit I must deal with weekly, but the truth is my insides fell down in a way completely unrelated to the sports or media. Just three days left in September, including this one. Unbelievable. This year is disappearing quickly. I'll have to make something of myself very soon, lest the months continue to get away from me. The woman has some reach, eh? The question is no longer 'how much can I describe here and still protect myself'. The new question is 'what the hell can I do about feeling this way at my age'. Well, probably nothing, although there are still parts of each day which are enjoyable. Without those, I would have less reason to exit the bed in the morning. Today, for example, is one of those in which the day appears bright and full of possibilities and all I have to do is embrace some of them in order to come out the other side feeling okay. Not good, just okay. I rarely feel good about anything these days. Less and less reason and all that shit. But the morning shows me things I cannot see after lunch. Little things. I'll spider myself out in those directions before tackling anything else. The fucking media is still in stereo even though I've gone to great lengths for the digital surround to be operating off the Roku. Two days ago it was -- albeit for a little while -- and then I made the permanent switch to send stereo audio to the kitchen and garage while the living room remained separate. This is going to piss me off today. Anyway, that is likely one of the small tasks for later. We have to pick up the car sometime today, as well. In and around, whatever seems best. All the while I'll be considering options with regard to other people and my relationships therein. That is the hard part of any day. Somehow I need to get the point across. Every single time I am at the precipice, my words either fail or become held back due to fear of backlash. I still cannot be any more unfair than already demonstrated or described, but the shit must come to pass one of these days or I may as well spend the rest of this life sitting at the feet of others. That is what all of this will come to if I do not push. I have spent forty fucking years trying to display and convey one thing. All of that will be shattered (it may already be in jeopardy or actually completely destroyed) if I do not reinforce a bit. If the truth is that the entire idea has been removed or replaced by something different, there is no longer anything I can do and may as well remain sitting and silent until the end of days. Nothing can fix that shit. Not a fucking thing. An even larger issue with such a situation is that the fucking snow and bullshit can never truly be known or alleviated. Elimination? Impossible. I'll be completely severed from the way I live my life right now. Making a point and then slamming it home is not easy, however. Enjoyable, but not easy. I need to think about it. I suppose yesterday was not all bad, only the lingering shit from my ill-begotten idea to gather for the game. Every single fucking time, something goes aslant (often just me, but there is generally a catalyst). I worked very little on anything productive yesterday because my head was churning too much. And I can't even spell it out, as usual. No matter what I do here, someone will eventually take issue, even though they do not have the room. But no one gets it anymore. They seem to feel that I am doing this as a request for help or commentary, when the truth of it is the diametric opposite. Period. So, Sunday's fucked up evening came about for one simple reason, and that in turn led me back to Saturday. The fact of where I am in life is a very bad place these days and sometimes I flare a little. That is certainly no fault of anyone but me, yet still I react and people hear it. The only idea to come out of the bad situation on Sunday is the idea that the live sports always press me to do something special, especially considering how speedy the season flies by. I did it again -- all my idea of where to watch and what to eat -- knowing full well that the same type of plan went to shit in the past. I tried, I failed. I will not do it again, and a part of such a decision may be the cutting off of live television completely. I'll do it out of self-preservation. No gathering equals no potential scrapes. Flood me with shit and I shall do the same, but keep in mind I still have something to prove. Everything hinges on this type of mood. The leaves are coming down. Fall now, as of last week. Years ago this would be cause for celebration and lots of planning for the next few months. Now? Less daylight. That is the only difference I can conjure anymore. All of the enjoyment of the season is either going away or already gone. And I am not speaking only of the glow and related activities during each year, but also the decades afterward in which my happiness hit a high point every time October rolled around. None of that any longer. I will do my best to keep my storm inside in order to spare people the downtrodden fucking mood. Switch. I went all around the world with the machinery last year, and a bit early this year if memory serves. That was out of the need to be not only in control (not in a bad way, either, so shut up), but to alleviate the worry of living in society each day. That soon morphed into creating my own dream by combining those features I found most attractive. The sheer idea of not experiencing deep concern of the unknown was simply too much to pass up at the time. Afterward, a steep downslope for a while as I realized that everything which is actually completely impossible seemed to be required for me to be happy and/or content. That brought depression. I have only slightly touched upon the machinery in recent months because I learned it was causing more harm than anything else. There were little snippets here and there but nothing substantial. Now it is nearly gone due to realizing that my focus must remain in reality. The beginning of that dream was fear. At present I have become so angry and resentful that the fear has been shoved to the rear. Whether or not it returns is unknown. I can only be me. Whatever else I may have become was destroyed at the hands of those fucking people, resulting in the worst frame of mind in memory. The fear? Ha... Fuck everyone who caused it. They will see, and soon. Today is already underway. Preparations in my brain will be translated to the work around the house. I was not terribly motivated yesterday, unfortunately, but mark my words by close of business some parts of this place and my insides will be vastly different. I need it, badly. I must take steps and make marks no one will be able to ignore. This is what I've come to in these late, miserable days. The shit which took place two days ago cannot be repeated no matter what people wish to see or experience. I can't have it. The television and streaming player ceased bowing to my commands a few minutes ago, too. Unbelievable. Some technical issue, I guess. There are ways around it, unlike my relationships with others. I have little control over them. Too bad, right? Her height is intimidating, believe it or not Some of what I am has been groomed by yours truly, honestly. I allowed it to happen. Led around by the nose, and all that type of shit. Such behavior is expected considering how needy I became over the years. I must keep the facts in mind if I am to rise at all, though. I must shift my world and expel those parts which continue to bring disdain and anger, swinging the beam over to more productive and secure activities. Again those two words come to mind: Fortification and preparation, inside and out. Today could be huge. I can't allow it to get out of hand, either. Keep pushing... One step at time no matter how small. The larger picture has to benefit, meaning everything taken as a whole. Eating an elephant, honestly. I am a product of many things, too. Allowing myself to be pulled into places better avoided because I was desperate can only be used as an excuse for so long and will eventually lead to something very bad. Even worse than how I feel this morning. I did it, and the decisions which led me to those waiting arms shall heretofore be considered a lesson... And a big one. They are not at fault. They were there for me. I have to close this machine and do something else for a while. Again I am not alone for the day. I believe the first day completely to myself will be Friday, and then the following week will return to the usual. Until then I just have to hold it together. The next day. The work commenced for a while yesterday before becoming interrupted by picking up the car from the service appointment. I continued afterward and did pretty well. Might continue today if the mood strikes. This morning feels narrow already, though, as if I can predict how I'll feel later. The vision is not good, either. Not even seven o'clock yet and my head seems to have ruled out today as being upward or productive. I seem to already know that whatever direction I take will be bad. The problems pile up and remain, resulting in my becoming angry and indignant. No one likes that crap and I don't blame them, yet these days I have very little reason to please anyone aside from myself. I also have diminishing patience with voices. There is no way around that one if I am to continue this lifestyle. Today will probably lead me to the garage again so I can pick up where I left off. I'd like to have something in good order after weeks of disarray. All the other shit will probably remain unchanged. Sitting here this morning has me considering a situation I do not like. On many an occasion I have stated 'everything is related'. Well, no shit. If anything is enough of a draw it will influence other facets of life. That is rather to be expected. Today I can see the rotting fruits of my decisions years ago and the path I ended up choosing to be comfortable and fairly isolated. Last year I became nearly completely isolated due to the world, and now I am even moreso after all this time. While working I at least had something taking up a good portion of my time and thinking to keep my head out of the din, and for the most part it worked. Right now, however, the feelings are returning and a problem is beginning to appear every now and again. I am very concerned over this shit, too. It has the power to steer my train to the nearest spur and ram the buffer. This is not good and rather supersedes much of the concern I deal with on a daily basis. I can get away from it, though, and probably will in a little while. In the beginning I tend to feel pretty fucking angry about being in such a position, too. The anger related to all that other shit above ends up a larger pile due to a situation beyond my control. Again... Not good. Forest feelings result from such worry. I need even more floodwork now. I have to flood my brain with distractions to the point of literally drowning into any activity just to survive the day and make it to the next. Yesterday was a good example (and beginning) of entering a productive zone and remaining for the long haul. I have to keep doing the same thing until some of the worry begins to subside. Anger is another story and probably will not be going anywhere soon. I keep thinking about years of engaging in the same destructive behavior and what they have done to me. The issue which popped up this morning is directly related. The work will hopefully help me relax and cease with the bad memories and present shit situation. I went back to the gangsters so I don't need to pay as much attention. I do not believe there can be an offset to the long periods of dissatisfaction and reaching for something damned and dangerous in order to find comfort. No offset, meaning no resolution nor good feeling about the entire bullshit fucking crappy period since the early eighties. My insides may indeed be the limiting factor and after all this time there is still no saving throw. The dice are indistinguishable from the background of life and I cannot see the numbers. No saving throw. Period. Doesn't matter how I speak, feel, or anything else. What is going on in my head shall remain for the long haul and I have to deal with it. So far I've been able to function without any chemical help, although that may change if I live through too many mornings like this one. It is a scrape -- one of those terms I tend to apply to many different problems -- and one which likely will live inside me forever. Some of the driving forces are attached to my own fears while others are pushed by media and societal pressure. I am beginning to believe much of my anger is due to the previous two sentences. Some of the discomfort will subside when I leave this behind and work on my stuff. That is at least one positive. Soon enough, however... The return. Pissed off. I have lots to do, as well. This is good, for the alternative is heading further into the negative than I would have into the positive. Understand? The good only gets so good, while the bad is without end. More and more, further into the decaying underworld of every single problem all rolled into a ball and stuffed like trash into the incinerator of my mind. Lately I can only sit here for so long before tiring of the thought processes. Trying to understand is not easy, especially when considering the relationship between something that took place a few days ago and another memory from more than forty years ago, or possibly an event during the intervening years. The whole works is a pain in my fucking ass. Look at the site, for example. Two, three or four years ago (or even longer) I was writing about the obsession nearly all of the time, with the remainder encompassing dissatisfaction with society. Now? All I do is sit here and analyze myself. I can admit that a part of the change is the realization that the obsession was driven by desire (very bad, that shit) and I did not see it for a very long time. Other than dealing with such a horrid stance in life, I decided to try figuring out other worries and ended up in a giant fucking hole. Now I can't get out of it. The obsession is not an absolute, though. Look at Helga on this page. Do I feel desire when I see her in such poses? Nope, and I believe it is due to her face. Not sure, though. The point of placing her here is art. She is living art, just as I've stated in the past. Artwork. Period. Something over which I have obsessed for a long time but nothing came of it. In person is another story and became bad enough for me to shut it the hell off. You may believe me or you may not, but understand that being full of shit here is about as productive and helpful as pounding sand on the beach. Might as well cheat at solitaire. I feel nothing for the model, as amazing as she may appear. On the flip side was the race or the market last week. Don't fucking ask, please. I do not like it. Not one bit. I pushed all that to the rear because once I saw the picture clearly there was no point in belaboring any more than I already had. Plus, the worry over where I am and where I may be heading has become overwhelming and beyond how I thought I might feel after all this time. Some of this crap does not leave my head, not even when lying in a woman's arms or being buried within a project. It does not leave at all. Always nagging. And then I begin to think that I'm the one who has done everything wrong. And then I reverse that thinking and become overly angry at everyone else and what they as a whole have done to this world. The effects upon individuals can be debilitating but they don't see it. And then I flip back the other way and realize that no one was handed a manual regarding how to live life, nor were their parents. And then something annoys me for any reason and I go further in the opposite direction again... To the point of wishing I could make everything fucking disappear and leave all this shit to the animals because they don't fuck each other over for a fucking percentage. Anyway, the point is I never forget anything, nor do I have the ability to ease up on me or them, ever. I think I need to swear either a tiny bit less or a hell of a lot more. There is Joseph again, rest his soul. Remaining upright and positive in front of people is becoming increasingly difficult considering everything I feel has become cumulative. That may be what happened on Sunday, but I can't be certain. Not all of it was my fault, although the reaction may have been harsh. I am tired all the fucking time these days. This morning is a good example of just how backed up my thinking can get when more than one problem rears up at the same time. Again, Sunday's bullshit could have been pushed due to something similar inside me. No definite answers right now. All I know is holding myself up and being nice takes a hell of a toll lately. I can see less being expressed here in the future, though. I can't continue to repeat things all down an entry and then let it bleed into the next. That is boring and helps nothing. Ugh. Scrapage. The floodwork will have to continue, and soon this morning. I have no reason to leave the house today and the usual routine is minimal. One of the shows will follow along all day, most likely the third Star Trek series. I had it in the garage yesterday and listening was helpful. Falling into a dream world does not take much these days due to real life being so unfulfilling. Such a fact is fucking sad as hell, but I cannot do anything about it. At least I am not gushing about a machine. Floodwork... I will flood myself and anyone nearby with my harsh penchant for remaining outside the norm and very busy. I did it yesterday. I ignored everything. With the forest still looming just ahead and attached to my feet, I certainly hope another person does not say anything which can shove me further away. Too much feels threatening anymore. Once more for posterity... I know what I am and what I am not, the latter being pervasive these days. Everywhere, all the fucking time. The fact is the previous sentence may be pushing me into a scrape more often than anything else. I can't help it. 'Man is driven in toto by his insecurities.' No shit, Hesh. The line was uttered in the pilot, if I recall correctly. What a way to start off a series. Maybe I should be a drug addict. They get away with all sorts of shit and then come out of rehab and people reduce their blame to the substance. Heh. Eh... Never mind. My drug of choice is different and completely legal. No, not alcohol. Get your head out of your ass. Christopher is about to become very worried about his lack of an 'arc'. I feel for him. Nothing over here either, my friend. The fear is still being held back, thank Christ, but honestly I can see the anger toward so much of life growing far worse than fear. Yes, fear can lead to anger, yet the beginning of my being so upset toward everything was not fear, but a lack of understanding and no one to either help or explain anything. Now it's built up so much that any possibility of someone listening and offering help will be shot in the face very quickly. I've tried that for years. Every fucking conversation reached the same dead end, so to hell with people. Fear is powerful, no doubt, but anger can destroy it. Oh, I forgot the idea of letting it go and shifting focus elsewhere. What? Really? No. I can't simply open my head and watch it float away like a fucking helium balloon, idiots. There is too much and all of it turned me into what you see here, so take that advice and point it in another direction. Think of the anger as creating a positive: I am not preoccupied by being scared all the time. Like it or not, that is a good thing. And the frosting could be my forest attitude and lifestyle pushing everyone far away. No more advice. Shove it. The day's floodwork awaits. I will thrash everything and come out the other side a tiny smidgen better, maybe. Flood the garage, flood the house, flood others with my rancor. Everything. Right now this is the only option I can see. 'Flood this, motherfuckers.' Big smile!"
September 29th, 2021 9:04am pdt
If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning. The Clodmaster section has once again been linked to the top menu.
Floodwork
read ( words)
"Sunday. And yes, there is more nudity within this entry. If you don't like it, you should be elsewhere. The words I write are much worse than a pair of unclothed breasts. Live with it. Monday will not be the same, however. I'll have to embrace this day to make up for the following week of haphazard activities. The norm shall return on the fourth of October. This is one of those situations which makes me appreciate the typical weekday. Today? The usual, the garbage and greenery, and then football. The home game is tonight, though. Maybe dinner during the game. I don't know yet. A dream this morning before I arose to make coffee is partially in my head. Some kind of disaster. I was in a power plant -- one of the control areas, maybe -- and with someone who was responsible for the safety of everyone. He ordered an evacuation, yet outside the windows were not hallways, but the inside of a shopping mall. People all over the place. Some were fashion models. There was a long wait before I awakened outside lying on the ground. Other people were scattered around and most were no longer living and in pieces, as if the heat turned them to ash. Some were trying to talk to me. I was overjoyed to be ok, found someone else able to rise and move around, so we decided to help them. My skin was gray and cracked but I did not feel anything. The other man was the same, yet he had no hair left. Awake. Unnerved. Not ready for the day. I am not meant to understand these dreams, and I will say that the imagery of those people was far worse than I can put into words right now. If I could get my hands around the forces which create those types of nightmares, the life would be choked out forever. I have no regard for evil. Again... Today. This may be a music mood day. The garbage will be forcefully moved around, the hedge crap stuffed with anger. Everything shall be completed with weight today. Heavy-handed. Weighty? Yes. My intention is to take a simple step further than usual. All of the draws upon my time and effort need to be put in their respective places. I have spent far too much solving the issues of others and am beginning to tire of the load upon my shoulders. So, today will be all me. Fuck everyone else. I've had it. The floodwork is the playing out of a situation born of feeling used up and wishing to flood the nearby souls with some very clear actions and very few words. Afterward, my stance will be understood a bit better than it has in the past. I've been way too gentle. Floodwork, blanketing the area with the tools I have been suppressing and exiting the day just a touch better off than the previous. Nope. Monday has arrived, and not a moment too soon. Everything went to shit yesterday and now represents the last time I head in such a direction to watch sports. No more of that. No matter what I say or do, planning or otherwise, something always goes wrong regardless of my good intentions. Well, now I've shut that part of life off completely. Sunday will be nothing more than Sunday from here on in. I will probably shut off the live television, too. There were two reasons for that subscription, news and live sports. Well, I don't watch the news. Big lesson yesterday. On two occasions during the last two football seasons the same type of thing happened but I ended up giving everyone a second chance. Not now. Finished. I'll stick to my usual programs, all of them streaming and completely under my control. Now what to do? We have to take the car for service in an hour or less. After that? The rest of the day, yet not all to myself. I have to make it all the way through this week and come out next Monday morning still able to embrace the precious time. I don't feel like doing anything I am supposed to this day. I really do not. Maybe I'll care for the bare minimum and then sit and build the last, big model. That is going to require days. It can keep me busy until I feel like working in the garage again. I have no idea when that motivation will return. Not now. The necessity of time. Tuesday. Early morning. Coffee. One cat up to my right, sleepy. Er... Two cats now. I altered some of the garage yesterday. Not much, but the refrigerator is now under my bench. That is where I wanted it in the first place, yet the speakers were taking up too much space. Now the area is much better. None of it matters, though. Sitting here describing work around the house is merely filler. Everything else is being suppressed. The fact is I don't know what to do, so I'll sit here and listen to the keys clicking. There seem no solutions. The idea laid out in the previous entry may be my only avenue after all these months. I honestly do not understand why things happen the way they do, but I will state that I intend to carry responsibility for very little of it. Saturday last was pretty much the end of me feeling as if I have accomplished anything in life, or rather that I have made any progress since beginning the work journey nearly four decades ago. This is not good and quickly squashed everything else. I sat Sunday watching the game -- pretty fucking angry over some bad words toward me -- and thought of how that game appeared in my eyes last year. Well, Sunday was different. Oh, I still feel the same regarding some aspects which cannot be denied and are a part of the snowy bullshit I must deal with weekly, but the truth is my insides fell down in a way completely unrelated to the sports or media. Just three days left in September, including this one. Unbelievable. This year is disappearing quickly. I'll have to make something of myself very soon, lest the months continue to get away from me.
The woman has some reach, eh?
The question is no longer 'how much can I describe here and still protect myself'. The new question is 'what the hell can I do about feeling this way at my age'. Well, probably nothing, although there are still parts of each day which are enjoyable. Without those, I would have less reason to exit the bed in the morning. Today, for example, is one of those in which the day appears bright and full of possibilities and all I have to do is embrace some of them in order to come out the other side feeling okay. Not good, just okay. I rarely feel good about anything these days. Less and less reason and all that shit. But the morning shows me things I cannot see after lunch. Little things. I'll spider myself out in those directions before tackling anything else. The fucking media is still in stereo even though I've gone to great lengths for the digital surround to be operating off the Roku. Two days ago it was -- albeit for a little while -- and then I made the permanent switch to send stereo audio to the kitchen and garage while the living room remained separate. This is going to piss me off today. Anyway, that is likely one of the small tasks for later. We have to pick up the car sometime today, as well. In and around, whatever seems best. All the while I'll be considering options with regard to other people and my relationships therein. That is the hard part of any day. Somehow I need to get the point across. Every single time I am at the precipice, my words either fail or become held back due to fear of backlash. I still cannot be any more unfair than already demonstrated or described, but the shit must come to pass one of these days or I may as well spend the rest of this life sitting at the feet of others. That is what all of this will come to if I do not push. I have spent forty fucking years trying to display and convey one thing. All of that will be shattered (it may already be in jeopardy or actually completely destroyed) if I do not reinforce a bit. If the truth is that the entire idea has been removed or replaced by something different, there is no longer anything I can do and may as well remain sitting and silent until the end of days. Nothing can fix that shit. Not a fucking thing. An even larger issue with such a situation is that the fucking snow and bullshit can never truly be known or alleviated. Elimination? Impossible. I'll be completely severed from the way I live my life right now. Making a point and then slamming it home is not easy, however. Enjoyable, but not easy. I need to think about it. I suppose yesterday was not all bad, only the lingering shit from my ill-begotten idea to gather for the game. Every single fucking time, something goes aslant (often just me, but there is generally a catalyst). I worked very little on anything productive yesterday because my head was churning too much. And I can't even spell it out, as usual. No matter what I do here, someone will eventually take issue, even though they do not have the room. But no one gets it anymore. They seem to feel that I am doing this as a request for help or commentary, when the truth of it is the diametric opposite. Period. So, Sunday's fucked up evening came about for one simple reason, and that in turn led me back to Saturday. The fact of where I am in life is a very bad place these days and sometimes I flare a little. That is certainly no fault of anyone but me, yet still I react and people hear it. The only idea to come out of the bad situation on Sunday is the idea that the live sports always press me to do something special, especially considering how speedy the season flies by. I did it again -- all my idea of where to watch and what to eat -- knowing full well that the same type of plan went to shit in the past. I tried, I failed. I will not do it again, and a part of such a decision may be the cutting off of live television completely. I'll do it out of self-preservation. No gathering equals no potential scrapes. Flood me with shit and I shall do the same, but keep in mind I still have something to prove. Everything hinges on this type of mood. The leaves are coming down. Fall now, as of last week. Years ago this would be cause for celebration and lots of planning for the next few months. Now? Less daylight. That is the only difference I can conjure anymore. All of the enjoyment of the season is either going away or already gone. And I am not speaking only of the glow and related activities during each year, but also the decades afterward in which my happiness hit a high point every time October rolled around. None of that any longer. I will do my best to keep my storm inside in order to spare people the downtrodden fucking mood. Switch. I went all around the world with the machinery last year, and a bit early this year if memory serves. That was out of the need to be not only in control (not in a bad way, either, so shut up), but to alleviate the worry of living in society each day. That soon morphed into creating my own dream by combining those features I found most attractive. The sheer idea of not experiencing deep concern of the unknown was simply too much to pass up at the time. Afterward, a steep downslope for a while as I realized that everything which is actually completely impossible seemed to be required for me to be happy and/or content. That brought depression. I have only slightly touched upon the machinery in recent months because I learned it was causing more harm than anything else. There were little snippets here and there but nothing substantial. Now it is nearly gone due to realizing that my focus must remain in reality. The beginning of that dream was fear. At present I have become so angry and resentful that the fear has been shoved to the rear. Whether or not it returns is unknown. I can only be me. Whatever else I may have become was destroyed at the hands of those fucking people, resulting in the worst frame of mind in memory. The fear? Ha... Fuck everyone who caused it. They will see, and soon. Today is already underway. Preparations in my brain will be translated to the work around the house. I was not terribly motivated yesterday, unfortunately, but mark my words by close of business some parts of this place and my insides will be vastly different. I need it, badly. I must take steps and make marks no one will be able to ignore. This is what I've come to in these late, miserable days. The shit which took place two days ago cannot be repeated no matter what people wish to see or experience. I can't have it. The television and streaming player ceased bowing to my commands a few minutes ago, too. Unbelievable. Some technical issue, I guess. There are ways around it, unlike my relationships with others. I have little control over them. Too bad, right?
Her height is intimidating, believe it or not
Some of what I am has been groomed by yours truly, honestly. I allowed it to happen. Led around by the nose, and all that type of shit. Such behavior is expected considering how needy I became over the years. I must keep the facts in mind if I am to rise at all, though. I must shift my world and expel those parts which continue to bring disdain and anger, swinging the beam over to more productive and secure activities. Again those two words come to mind: Fortification and preparation, inside and out. Today could be huge. I can't allow it to get out of hand, either. Keep pushing... One step at time no matter how small. The larger picture has to benefit, meaning everything taken as a whole. Eating an elephant, honestly. I am a product of many things, too. Allowing myself to be pulled into places better avoided because I was desperate can only be used as an excuse for so long and will eventually lead to something very bad. Even worse than how I feel this morning. I did it, and the decisions which led me to those waiting arms shall heretofore be considered a lesson... And a big one. They are not at fault. They were there for me. I have to close this machine and do something else for a while. Again I am not alone for the day. I believe the first day completely to myself will be Friday, and then the following week will return to the usual. Until then I just have to hold it together. The next day. The work commenced for a while yesterday before becoming interrupted by picking up the car from the service appointment. I continued afterward and did pretty well. Might continue today if the mood strikes. This morning feels narrow already, though, as if I can predict how I'll feel later. The vision is not good, either. Not even seven o'clock yet and my head seems to have ruled out today as being upward or productive. I seem to already know that whatever direction I take will be bad. The problems pile up and remain, resulting in my becoming angry and indignant. No one likes that crap and I don't blame them, yet these days I have very little reason to please anyone aside from myself. I also have diminishing patience with voices. There is no way around that one if I am to continue this lifestyle. Today will probably lead me to the garage again so I can pick up where I left off. I'd like to have something in good order after weeks of disarray. All the other shit will probably remain unchanged. Sitting here this morning has me considering a situation I do not like. On many an occasion I have stated 'everything is related'. Well, no shit. If anything is enough of a draw it will influence other facets of life. That is rather to be expected. Today I can see the rotting fruits of my decisions years ago and the path I ended up choosing to be comfortable and fairly isolated. Last year I became nearly completely isolated due to the world, and now I am even moreso after all this time. While working I at least had something taking up a good portion of my time and thinking to keep my head out of the din, and for the most part it worked. Right now, however, the feelings are returning and a problem is beginning to appear every now and again. I am very concerned over this shit, too. It has the power to steer my train to the nearest spur and ram the buffer. This is not good and rather supersedes much of the concern I deal with on a daily basis. I can get away from it, though, and probably will in a little while. In the beginning I tend to feel pretty fucking angry about being in such a position, too. The anger related to all that other shit above ends up a larger pile due to a situation beyond my control. Again... Not good. Forest feelings result from such worry. I need even more floodwork now. I have to flood my brain with distractions to the point of literally drowning into any activity just to survive the day and make it to the next. Yesterday was a good example (and beginning) of entering a productive zone and remaining for the long haul. I have to keep doing the same thing until some of the worry begins to subside. Anger is another story and probably will not be going anywhere soon. I keep thinking about years of engaging in the same destructive behavior and what they have done to me. The issue which popped up this morning is directly related. The work will hopefully help me relax and cease with the bad memories and present shit situation. I went back to the gangsters so I don't need to pay as much attention. I do not believe there can be an offset to the long periods of dissatisfaction and reaching for something damned and dangerous in order to find comfort. No offset, meaning no resolution nor good feeling about the entire bullshit fucking crappy period since the early eighties. My insides may indeed be the limiting factor and after all this time there is still no saving throw. The dice are indistinguishable from the background of life and I cannot see the numbers. No saving throw. Period. Doesn't matter how I speak, feel, or anything else. What is going on in my head shall remain for the long haul and I have to deal with it. So far I've been able to function without any chemical help, although that may change if I live through too many mornings like this one. It is a scrape -- one of those terms I tend to apply to many different problems -- and one which likely will live inside me forever. Some of the driving forces are attached to my own fears while others are pushed by media and societal pressure. I am beginning to believe much of my anger is due to the previous two sentences. Some of the discomfort will subside when I leave this behind and work on my stuff. That is at least one positive. Soon enough, however... The return. Pissed off. I have lots to do, as well. This is good, for the alternative is heading further into the negative than I would have into the positive. Understand? The good only gets so good, while the bad is without end. More and more, further into the decaying underworld of every single problem all rolled into a ball and stuffed like trash into the incinerator of my mind.
Lately I can only sit here for so long before tiring of the thought processes. Trying to understand is not easy, especially when considering the relationship between something that took place a few days ago and another memory from more than forty years ago, or possibly an event during the intervening years. The whole works is a pain in my fucking ass. Look at the site, for example. Two, three or four years ago (or even longer) I was writing about the obsession nearly all of the time, with the remainder encompassing dissatisfaction with society. Now? All I do is sit here and analyze myself. I can admit that a part of the change is the realization that the obsession was driven by desire (very bad, that shit) and I did not see it for a very long time. Other than dealing with such a horrid stance in life, I decided to try figuring out other worries and ended up in a giant fucking hole. Now I can't get out of it. The obsession is not an absolute, though. Look at Helga on this page. Do I feel desire when I see her in such poses? Nope, and I believe it is due to her face. Not sure, though. The point of placing her here is art. She is living art, just as I've stated in the past. Artwork. Period. Something over which I have obsessed for a long time but nothing came of it. In person is another story and became bad enough for me to shut it the hell off. You may believe me or you may not, but understand that being full of shit here is about as productive and helpful as pounding sand on the beach. Might as well cheat at solitaire. I feel nothing for the model, as amazing as she may appear. On the flip side was the race or the market last week. Don't fucking ask, please. I do not like it. Not one bit. I pushed all that to the rear because once I saw the picture clearly there was no point in belaboring any more than I already had. Plus, the worry over where I am and where I may be heading has become overwhelming and beyond how I thought I might feel after all this time. Some of this crap does not leave my head, not even when lying in a woman's arms or being buried within a project. It does not leave at all. Always nagging. And then I begin to think that I'm the one who has done everything wrong. And then I reverse that thinking and become overly angry at everyone else and what they as a whole have done to this world. The effects upon individuals can be debilitating but they don't see it. And then I flip back the other way and realize that no one was handed a manual regarding how to live life, nor were their parents. And then something annoys me for any reason and I go further in the opposite direction again... To the point of wishing I could make everything fucking disappear and leave all this shit to the animals because they don't fuck each other over for a fucking percentage. Anyway, the point is I never forget anything, nor do I have the ability to ease up on me or them, ever. I think I need to swear either a tiny bit less or a hell of a lot more. There is Joseph again, rest his soul. Remaining upright and positive in front of people is becoming increasingly difficult considering everything I feel has become cumulative. That may be what happened on Sunday, but I can't be certain. Not all of it was my fault, although the reaction may have been harsh. I am tired all the fucking time these days. This morning is a good example of just how backed up my thinking can get when more than one problem rears up at the same time. Again, Sunday's bullshit could have been pushed due to something similar inside me. No definite answers right now. All I know is holding myself up and being nice takes a hell of a toll lately. I can see less being expressed here in the future, though. I can't continue to repeat things all down an entry and then let it bleed into the next. That is boring and helps nothing. Ugh. Scrapage. The floodwork will have to continue, and soon this morning. I have no reason to leave the house today and the usual routine is minimal. One of the shows will follow along all day, most likely the third Star Trek series. I had it in the garage yesterday and listening was helpful. Falling into a dream world does not take much these days due to real life being so unfulfilling. Such a fact is fucking sad as hell, but I cannot do anything about it. At least I am not gushing about a machine. Floodwork... I will flood myself and anyone nearby with my harsh penchant for remaining outside the norm and very busy. I did it yesterday. I ignored everything. With the forest still looming just ahead and attached to my feet, I certainly hope another person does not say anything which can shove me further away.
Too much feels threatening anymore. Once more for posterity... I know what I am and what I am not, the latter being pervasive these days. Everywhere, all the fucking time. The fact is the previous sentence may be pushing me into a scrape more often than anything else. I can't help it. 'Man is driven in toto by his insecurities.' No shit, Hesh. The line was uttered in the pilot, if I recall correctly. What a way to start off a series. Maybe I should be a drug addict. They get away with all sorts of shit and then come out of rehab and people reduce their blame to the substance. Heh. Eh... Never mind. My drug of choice is different and completely legal. No, not alcohol. Get your head out of your ass. Christopher is about to become very worried about his lack of an 'arc'. I feel for him. Nothing over here either, my friend. The fear is still being held back, thank Christ, but honestly I can see the anger toward so much of life growing far worse than fear. Yes, fear can lead to anger, yet the beginning of my being so upset toward everything was not fear, but a lack of understanding and no one to either help or explain anything. Now it's built up so much that any possibility of someone listening and offering help will be shot in the face very quickly. I've tried that for years. Every fucking conversation reached the same dead end, so to hell with people. Fear is powerful, no doubt, but anger can destroy it. Oh, I forgot the idea of letting it go and shifting focus elsewhere. What? Really? No. I can't simply open my head and watch it float away like a fucking helium balloon, idiots. There is too much and all of it turned me into what you see here, so take that advice and point it in another direction. Think of the anger as creating a positive: I am not preoccupied by being scared all the time. Like it or not, that is a good thing. And the frosting could be my forest attitude and lifestyle pushing everyone far away. No more advice. Shove it. The day's floodwork awaits. I will thrash everything and come out the other side a tiny smidgen better, maybe. Flood the garage, flood the house, flood others with my rancor. Everything. Right now this is the only option I can see. 'Flood this, motherfuckers.' Big smile!"
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