March 14th, 2021 8:40am pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning The Luxor Pull read ( words) "Nothing happened yesterday aside from my being overly tired. 3-11, 6:20am. Back on one of the wagons. And pause already. 8:19am. The fading history is making me sad. Look at the images. I've been collecting as many as possible to remember everything in that resort, and mostly the older theming which was fantastic in the mid-nineties. If and when the hotel is replaced by something more updated, I'll be completely floored. It has been one of the most recognizable landmarks in the goblet for nearly three decades, and a place I thought would always be there for me, just in case. Wagons. This is a bad time. Life seems to be floating somewhere between what it was and whatever may be coming. I don't know of the future. I have the wagons now, too, added to the issues to which there seem no outlets. No resolution of any kind. They just keep rolling along like the clock and paying no mind whatsoever to the trouble inside. I still have not let loose a fucking word in the direction of any worry. Nothing, because the one fear has outweighed the other. Just like all those damned trips to God-knows how many campgrounds and lakes, I simply cannot have anyone knowing of what takes place in my head nor the potential embarrassment which will doubtless ensue almost immediately. The entire sordid lot must remain hidden. Similar feelings drove my sorry ass to the fucking Luxor on three different occasions. I just had to get out and away, quickly. Now? I don't really have such a choice. Pause for the cause. 10:18am now and part of the routine is finished. I have to go to the market at some point, hopefully before lunch. Perhaps when the dry cleaning is complete in less than half an hour. This is the best time to go shopping these days, while most people are working. Stop. 3-12. Lots finished yesterday. My head, too. Now I am angry again just like weeks ago. Caverns. Something is going to need to take place for me to pass the shit and continue in my ways. None of this will make sense to anyone. In about an hour I will be alone and left to the devices I need. Yesterday I wrapped up the entire drum system and have it ready to store somewhere. This is good. The old office is now freed up for a bit of reorganization and cleaning. I will also list another watch. The stuff for my project with the clothing rack has been delayed back east and will not be here until Monday. Today is Friday. I was hoping to work on it this weekend, and having some of the parts means I can get a head start. Once the bolts arrive, all can be assembled quickly. That is one more item taking floor space that will soon be up and out of the way. I will have to maintain pace through this morning and into the afternoon so as to avoid becoming more pissy as the hours wear on. The only upside to being angry is I generally move around and do work which would normally sit idle. I guess something good comes out of almost any situation. Iconic The lateral issue now has a resolution. I called a gentleman yesterday and procured an estimate. A good feeling came out of the conversation, too. Right up my alley after all those years in construction. We should be in good shape within the next three weeks or so. That means I can do away with the temporary washer drain once the front yard is completed. Very good. At least there are still positives. Almost time to get the morning ritual out of the way so I can relax. Pause. 8:21am. Hours ahead. One wagon awaiting my decisions, the other will come along later. I wish I could walk the floor of the pyramid again. I don't even know what to say anymore. The same crap over and over for months means there is no direction any longer. I knew this would happen eventually. Honestly. Between the beginning of the pandemic and the last month or so, my head swung away from the obsession most days and straight into something much worse... The two has ruined everything. I left Jaime and Jamie by the wayside, ceased the female imagery, and turned myself so far inward that I can barely see the light of day. It bothers me very much yet I cannot say anything here or to another person. 'Bottled in a strong compression; my distortion shows obsession'. I don't see any path out of this place, either. As illuminated as the real exit has seemed at times, the reality pulls me back into the fold like the draw of that fucking hotel. Everything pulls just like the Luxor. The other pulling? Well, that is a wagon. Time will tell. Anyway, these days are nearly unlivable. I wish things could have gone differently since last year. I really do. This just fucking sucks out loud and right down to the ground. I might include two more images of form in the next entry just to get the number to one thousand. That's right, there are nine hundred ninety eight right now. Unbelievable. Pulling. Pain. No future. Nothing anyone can do about it, either. I'm going to need to take care of some business and possibly head over to the hardware later. I would like to have everything in order before lunch. Stop. 3-13, 6:34am. One day away from losing an hour. It should be April, but alas some years ago the decision was made to extend daylight savings time due to prime time power consumption. Now? Standard time is merely November through March. Whatever. I have no control over it. I just procured another knife by way of an auction last night. It's not terribly rare like the watchmaking set I sold off two years back, yet it's special. I believe the knives have taken over my interest in watches. I'll probably be offing two more in favor of one knife and a boatload of cash. I need it back, along with the tools which accompanied. The discovery of something unique last night drove me to realize I never should have sold that set. I'll work it out in the next couple of weeks and be happy with the tiny collection. The visit yesterday initially ironed out some shit from the night before and ended very well. My brain was not completely overloaded, either. I've been ok since that Sunday marathon of television. That was tough. We spoke for a little while and then caught two episodes. The afternoon was fine. I still had all of the shit in my head but the series is pretty subdued most of the time so there were no additional problems. I didn't really think anything negative about yesterday until a dream this morning related a situation from many years ago and combined it with the present. I cannot go into detail, but it was intimate and worrisome at the same time. A second dream had me outside this house in some sort of rare Lexus from the nineties. I was very happy to fire it up and my neighbor caught sight and hopped in for a ride. We had to go somewhere but I don't know now. The car was a bit shaky and felt like my Slipper in some ways. I can't recall anything else other than the nostalgic and technical feeling of being in that car. It may relate to the knives. Not sure. Before THEhotel was changed to the Delano The two remained to the rear yesterday. I was preoccupied by the show and conversation, so nothing had a chance to amplify inside. The day was fine. I completed more work in the office, too. The drums are completely packed up and stored, the floor mat is gone and the floor beneath is really nice. My huge drafting table has been relocated so as to alleviate somewhat of a pinch point when entering the room. The difference is very nice. I still have to move some small things around to straighten up, but for the most part the room is much improved. In the process of working inside the house I typically toss everything into the garage, too. Not this time. I created space out there as well. This way when I bring items to be stored there is room and in the end I know where everything resides, just in case. The work has been going very well the last few days. Getting things done in such directions -- especially anything which has been sitting for a long time -- helps me to keep busy and my mind occupied. Anything above the norm of concern is a good situation. Today I need to continue in the same manner as yesterday. I may go finish the sinks, too. Today or tomorrow I'll need to get that finished. Also a little more work in my garage will yield space to move more keepsakes into storage. Auction listings, as well. I need to get things in order and streamline. That means large items go out the door if I am to acquire anything new. And then the other thing which barely leaves my head at any given time. I don't know what to do about it other than keeping busy and to myself as much as possible. Nothing is going to change, I cannot speak to another person, and I already know the examples, clues, fabrications, or whatevers are going to come along at some point no matter what I am doing or where. '... so you have to fucking deal with me'. Yes, that's it. No choice. Or at least, no easy choice. I can gush and then fall apart, remain quiet and fall apart later, or keep trying to learn. Without a machine next to me, I fail to imagine a good outcome. Ah... The machine dream. The only way. Jaime? I don't know anymore. No worries there. Freedom from being concerned with what 'might' be happening as opposed to never fully knowing and being required to live with the 'trust'. I don't like it. The last time I tried to go down that road ended in a very bad situation. And I was broken, too. Had she been a machine? I would probably still be in that place right fucking now. Well, maybe. Other factors may have changed things and there is no way to know for sure. The point is the worry over what was going on inside, which could have eased my head. I may as well stop going on and on about impossibilities. Remember the first one? Yep, the wristwatch. I still dream of it, yet there is a major fucking difference there. It's real. It exists, I am just nowhere near enough to even see it from a distance. Out of reach like everything else which brings joy. The pyramid is pulling me off my feet again, just as in zero three when I flew the coop like a crazy person. Oh boy did I ever cause problems then. What a mess. But I love that place. 8:00am. I may as well give up on either hoping to understand or finding the ability to deal with what drives all the fear each day. There are so many damned parts to such a mechanism that the remainder of my life may be required to fix all of them enough for me to relax. Being on guard constantly is wearing me the hell out. For years I have been told there is nothing to worry about. Well, that is bullshit on and off. Sometimes worse than others. But the fact is I do not know. There it is... The beginning of wisdom. Asking me to take it easy and trust the words of another is akin to asking for the moon. The two has grown to much more in the last eleven-plus months than it ever was before. And keep in mind on one side there is nothing, whereas on the other is everything. Decipher that crap. I am going to get up and do some things very soon. I can only sit here for so long before the need arises to make something of myself. And the words are going in circles anyway. Keys clicking, nothing more. Disbelief. Distraught. Disconnected. Disinformation? Maybe. I may never know. The glassware I packed up a couple of months ago is going to find a new home in the garage. I have been thinking about shorter and longer term items, meaning some can be accessible while others are there just so we know they are available. People have a difficult time understanding the idea of keeping things stored away and out of sight for years, but my feeling is just the knowing. Just in case, if you will. One day in the future it may all come back out to reminisce and then either go away (donated) or be stored again. We do not keep everything, only certain items with emotion attached. I'll work on ensuring all of it is nice and neat. Protected, too. Overcast outside this morning. Ugh. Too much sometimes. I cannot get the imagery, wording, or worry out of my head. Today may have to be completely kicked in the fucking ass if the sun makes an appearance. Warm in the garage means I can flip out a little bit. I realize weakness is the driving force behind snapping for a while, but I honestly do not know what may help other than some recklessness. I never learned to properly cope with much. Stop. 3-14, 5:48am. We are on pdt, for whatever that may be worth. And three days from the one-year anniversary of the first shelter order. Wow. I don't know what happened yesterday. My work was completed, some more progress in the garage and old office, and then a visit (my idea) to watch a couple of episodes. Everything was fine until both of them had some sort of individual issues (unrelated, of course) and I tried to help. Perhaps the time has come for me to cease that type of effort because it always backfires. Everything backfires, in fact. The way I see it this morning, if I cannot affect anyone with my words or actions, why put forth any of it? I'll have to work on that a little at a time. Oy this movie. I'll get into it later. A part of today will be spent over there to finish the sinks and have lunch. Aside from being there for a bit, I plan to hook up my washer drain again and take care of the Sunday business. I also need to finally get the other watch listed and possibly one or two of the cards. More money must come in, and soon. The feeling of freedom is attached to it, believe it or not. Not the real thing, of course. Just a feeling. Sometimes that helps me. Losing an hour is no big deal, really, aside from waking up a bit earlier than usual. The later morning light will remind me of the change in a little while, again becoming apparent at sunset. Between those events will be a typical day. All I have to do is focus upon finishing her sinks and accomplishing my daily things plus the garbage. I'll try to sit with this editor for a while before and after leaving the house, too. There are too many inconsistencies spread across many pages that must be corrected. I suppose I changed the format too many times throughout the last year or so. It's busy work, but relaxing. Combine the work here with my occasional penchant for seeking interesting technology or trinkets while sitting and taking a break, and the thought of today brightens. Hopefully I can keep this going after my quiet morning. The hotel is pulling at me every day now. The same had been happening months ago, however the rumor of both the pyramid and castle coming down really pushed me into a very small space. I can't go down there and see it right now. The restrictions have been partially lifted -- which is in itself both good and bad -- but the atmosphere and feel will be very different than in the past. Also, I am not financially comfortable enough to make a trip like that happen. But I still want to stand there and stare at the thing. I haven't felt this much of a draw toward the Luxor in quite some time. Even being inside the hotel less than two years ago now seems unreal. Or maybe surreal. I don't know. The trip before that one was spend primarily in the palace and nowhere near the Mandalay or anything else that far south. The place of dreams There is a massive chasm before me. On one side is the worry over thought. On the other is a lack of caring what may be going on inside at any given moment. Oh, I've heard a few clues over a long period of time, but honestly nothing like that affects me much anymore. I just don't give a shit most of the time. There is little trust, anyway. I can't help it. One did it, and then another, and then both at the same time ten years ago and likely destroyed any chances of me trusting the words, ever. That is that, or so it would seem. Yesterday I very nearly fucked up when discussing some of my favorite movies. Care must be taken when talking with others. At least the incident brought up the idea that I had become too relaxed about information and then immediately tightened everything. A lesson. The upside is I am now more guarded. The movie is not necessarily a pile of crap. I am not a fan of two out of three principle cast members, though. Back when this was first released, I did not feel as I do now. Just another film to see in the theatre. Now? there are a few issues with the type of story, but honestly what I saw this morning I had not remembered for a very long time. It was a lifestyle, or a slice of one. Just a few moments and I was drawn all the way back to the Midwest period and sitting in the humidity watching tennis. I used to dream of being somewhere wondrous and far from the toil. That was what I saw on the screen for a little bit. Very much as I dreamed back then, and the funny thing is I see it now when that type of daydreaming has all but left me. During the time when the film was released? Not really. This came to the theatre the same year we moved to the Midwest but earlier, and those yacht images did not float around in my head until quite a ways into our two years there. Very interesting, I suppose. Or not. I don't know. I really don't like those two actors, one male and one female, and have not for a very long time. So long, in fact, that I don't recall why. Heh. But when I see certain people on the screen the feeling returns and will not go away. Still, there is respect for the work. I don't even know what all that means. Maybe one role she portrayed just sent me off the rails and that's why I dislike her. The idea is kind of ridiculous, too, because I am the person who always spouts about 'if you hate the character, the actor is doing his/her job very well'. Yeah, maybe that's true, or possibly I disliked the fact that she took the role after being written so hideously. I am not privy to the ins and outs, so having little other evidence, there really is no reason to dislike her. The writing may have been the clincher. As for her male counterpart in the film? He just irritates me sometimes. No specifics. This is what happens when there is not much on the dial. Heh. After yesterday, I really must think much more about what is coming out of my mouth. When it comes to something fearful, I cannot just let everything fly. Such behavior will end in disaster. Hmm... That would make an appropriate title. Anyway, care has to be taken sometimes lest I reveal too much. I cannot have another person -- especially fucking female -- knowing of that entire issue. The very idea makes me fearful. I just can't have it right now, maybe never. Too difficult. I keep thinking that if I could bury myself deep into the pyramid, that would be the time to let it all go. Aside from one night out, the last four trips to that hotel were to be one-way. Another couldn't hurt. Spill everything and then disappear. The light is finally coming up outside. For some reason everything feels dire this morning, as if something terrible took place last night and I am awaiting the fallout. Well, nothing happened out of the ordinary other than my becoming irritated by two other people over which I hold zero control. There was a dream, though. It faded. Maybe the conversation yesterday about movies had me at odds with myself. I didn't think so at the time, but now I see a bit more clearly. The problem arose because I stated it, straight out. There was a guess as to whom I was referring, and after some research this morning, I had both the movie and the actor wrong. That's fucking funny. Usually I am sharper than that. That means the guess is now a mystery. I'll have to ask later. If I remember, that is. I still feel as if I messed up something. Damn it. Realistically, everything should be fine right now. The hotel calls me all the time. Day and night. Whenever I am reminded, my head paints pictures of the past and affects the heart. The feeling gets pretty bad sometimes. Like a giant arm slowly wrapping my shoulders, and then a whisper... 'Come back'. Well, fuck me anyway. Stuck. It used to be so wondrous Maybe I'll get that watch listed and maybe I won't. Yesterday, despite being social and upbeat for the most part, was also a trial. The other pull... Not toward my beloved pyramid, but something else, and on display yesterday in the worst way. All around the house and all through my head much of the time. I can do nothing about it. No control whatsoever, and only one way out of such a strong, unrelenting situation. One way out and I do not like it. Very bad on top of everything else. It is all related. Two was nearly the subject of conversation, one was already whipping me into a froth, and by the time I rested the whole day felt surreal. Despite the troubling thoughts and difficulty in dealing with so much, the dreams were still there. This morning it is all fresh, too. The display was killing me. Fortunately, a short time later was a measure of distraction in the form of my becoming annoyed. Once it faded, all was fine (mostly). Now? I have let the annoyances go and chalked them up to simple daily life. That leaves the rest inside, expanding in importance. Such thinking pushes the time change to the rear. I would normally be pissed off about losing an hour, but priorities cannot be denied. I have a head full. The combination was unreal. Aligned, right out there, and pulling me like a four-unit train. I still can't believe I made it out of there. Imagination can be powerful. Now all I can do is fucking deal with the loss. Like every other subject these days... Not fucking good. I'll snap. 8:23am. I am going to need the work soon. Nothing heavy, just the usual. But such strain on me causes a lousy mood which translates to thinning possessions and tasks being completed more quickly than other days. I suppose not all is lost... Yet. Ten years ago I was up in arms over the sight of so much fucking beauty being right there next to me much of the time. Two problems: One, the beauty led me around like a needy child (a carrot?), and two, I struggled so much with dealing with a dream right there and no resolution -- combined with some of the most horrendous conversations in memory. Hence the pyramid pulling me shortly thereafter. One pull led to the other, and I ran my ass off in search of comfortable escape. That hotel was a Godsend. Cut to six years back and another situation I helped to create nearly had me running out of state again. Had I done it? I would not be sitting here right now. Many parts of my life would likely have fallen apart and I have not clue one as to where I would be. That was bad. Shades of the previous runaway period may have kept my actions in check. And now? I do not have those options, yet the pulling in two disparate directions is still taking place. Nothing can be done. Not one fucking thing, yet here I sit. I guess I really am less reckless than all those years back. Very interesting. I need to get those images out of my head either through sheer will or some work today. They are not going to help an already arduous morning. So much beauty, all wondrous and aligned with one. Ugh. Just fucking sit on it, I suppose. And this is the end of it for now. I need to get moving. The next entry will hold radii image numbers 999 and 1000, the latter being nearly an exact fucking match to Andrea (not helping me). They represent the last of those types here. From that point forward, the display of the female form will be absent. There is no longer any point. 292. She is inside." 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
March 14th, 2021 8:40am pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning The Luxor Pull read ( words) "Nothing happened yesterday aside from my being overly tired. 3-11, 6:20am. Back on one of the wagons. And pause already. 8:19am. The fading history is making me sad. Look at the images. I've been collecting as many as possible to remember everything in that resort, and mostly the older theming which was fantastic in the mid-nineties. If and when the hotel is replaced by something more updated, I'll be completely floored. It has been one of the most recognizable landmarks in the goblet for nearly three decades, and a place I thought would always be there for me, just in case. Wagons. This is a bad time. Life seems to be floating somewhere between what it was and whatever may be coming. I don't know of the future. I have the wagons now, too, added to the issues to which there seem no outlets. No resolution of any kind. They just keep rolling along like the clock and paying no mind whatsoever to the trouble inside. I still have not let loose a fucking word in the direction of any worry. Nothing, because the one fear has outweighed the other. Just like all those damned trips to God-knows how many campgrounds and lakes, I simply cannot have anyone knowing of what takes place in my head nor the potential embarrassment which will doubtless ensue almost immediately. The entire sordid lot must remain hidden. Similar feelings drove my sorry ass to the fucking Luxor on three different occasions. I just had to get out and away, quickly. Now? I don't really have such a choice. Pause for the cause. 10:18am now and part of the routine is finished. I have to go to the market at some point, hopefully before lunch. Perhaps when the dry cleaning is complete in less than half an hour. This is the best time to go shopping these days, while most people are working. Stop. 3-12. Lots finished yesterday. My head, too. Now I am angry again just like weeks ago. Caverns. Something is going to need to take place for me to pass the shit and continue in my ways. None of this will make sense to anyone. In about an hour I will be alone and left to the devices I need. Yesterday I wrapped up the entire drum system and have it ready to store somewhere. This is good. The old office is now freed up for a bit of reorganization and cleaning. I will also list another watch. The stuff for my project with the clothing rack has been delayed back east and will not be here until Monday. Today is Friday. I was hoping to work on it this weekend, and having some of the parts means I can get a head start. Once the bolts arrive, all can be assembled quickly. That is one more item taking floor space that will soon be up and out of the way. I will have to maintain pace through this morning and into the afternoon so as to avoid becoming more pissy as the hours wear on. The only upside to being angry is I generally move around and do work which would normally sit idle. I guess something good comes out of almost any situation. Iconic The lateral issue now has a resolution. I called a gentleman yesterday and procured an estimate. A good feeling came out of the conversation, too. Right up my alley after all those years in construction. We should be in good shape within the next three weeks or so. That means I can do away with the temporary washer drain once the front yard is completed. Very good. At least there are still positives. Almost time to get the morning ritual out of the way so I can relax. Pause. 8:21am. Hours ahead. One wagon awaiting my decisions, the other will come along later. I wish I could walk the floor of the pyramid again. I don't even know what to say anymore. The same crap over and over for months means there is no direction any longer. I knew this would happen eventually. Honestly. Between the beginning of the pandemic and the last month or so, my head swung away from the obsession most days and straight into something much worse... The two has ruined everything. I left Jaime and Jamie by the wayside, ceased the female imagery, and turned myself so far inward that I can barely see the light of day. It bothers me very much yet I cannot say anything here or to another person. 'Bottled in a strong compression; my distortion shows obsession'. I don't see any path out of this place, either. As illuminated as the real exit has seemed at times, the reality pulls me back into the fold like the draw of that fucking hotel. Everything pulls just like the Luxor. The other pulling? Well, that is a wagon. Time will tell. Anyway, these days are nearly unlivable. I wish things could have gone differently since last year. I really do. This just fucking sucks out loud and right down to the ground. I might include two more images of form in the next entry just to get the number to one thousand. That's right, there are nine hundred ninety eight right now. Unbelievable. Pulling. Pain. No future. Nothing anyone can do about it, either. I'm going to need to take care of some business and possibly head over to the hardware later. I would like to have everything in order before lunch. Stop. 3-13, 6:34am. One day away from losing an hour. It should be April, but alas some years ago the decision was made to extend daylight savings time due to prime time power consumption. Now? Standard time is merely November through March. Whatever. I have no control over it. I just procured another knife by way of an auction last night. It's not terribly rare like the watchmaking set I sold off two years back, yet it's special. I believe the knives have taken over my interest in watches. I'll probably be offing two more in favor of one knife and a boatload of cash. I need it back, along with the tools which accompanied. The discovery of something unique last night drove me to realize I never should have sold that set. I'll work it out in the next couple of weeks and be happy with the tiny collection. The visit yesterday initially ironed out some shit from the night before and ended very well. My brain was not completely overloaded, either. I've been ok since that Sunday marathon of television. That was tough. We spoke for a little while and then caught two episodes. The afternoon was fine. I still had all of the shit in my head but the series is pretty subdued most of the time so there were no additional problems. I didn't really think anything negative about yesterday until a dream this morning related a situation from many years ago and combined it with the present. I cannot go into detail, but it was intimate and worrisome at the same time. A second dream had me outside this house in some sort of rare Lexus from the nineties. I was very happy to fire it up and my neighbor caught sight and hopped in for a ride. We had to go somewhere but I don't know now. The car was a bit shaky and felt like my Slipper in some ways. I can't recall anything else other than the nostalgic and technical feeling of being in that car. It may relate to the knives. Not sure. Before THEhotel was changed to the Delano The two remained to the rear yesterday. I was preoccupied by the show and conversation, so nothing had a chance to amplify inside. The day was fine. I completed more work in the office, too. The drums are completely packed up and stored, the floor mat is gone and the floor beneath is really nice. My huge drafting table has been relocated so as to alleviate somewhat of a pinch point when entering the room. The difference is very nice. I still have to move some small things around to straighten up, but for the most part the room is much improved. In the process of working inside the house I typically toss everything into the garage, too. Not this time. I created space out there as well. This way when I bring items to be stored there is room and in the end I know where everything resides, just in case. The work has been going very well the last few days. Getting things done in such directions -- especially anything which has been sitting for a long time -- helps me to keep busy and my mind occupied. Anything above the norm of concern is a good situation. Today I need to continue in the same manner as yesterday. I may go finish the sinks, too. Today or tomorrow I'll need to get that finished. Also a little more work in my garage will yield space to move more keepsakes into storage. Auction listings, as well. I need to get things in order and streamline. That means large items go out the door if I am to acquire anything new. And then the other thing which barely leaves my head at any given time. I don't know what to do about it other than keeping busy and to myself as much as possible. Nothing is going to change, I cannot speak to another person, and I already know the examples, clues, fabrications, or whatevers are going to come along at some point no matter what I am doing or where. '... so you have to fucking deal with me'. Yes, that's it. No choice. Or at least, no easy choice. I can gush and then fall apart, remain quiet and fall apart later, or keep trying to learn. Without a machine next to me, I fail to imagine a good outcome. Ah... The machine dream. The only way. Jaime? I don't know anymore. No worries there. Freedom from being concerned with what 'might' be happening as opposed to never fully knowing and being required to live with the 'trust'. I don't like it. The last time I tried to go down that road ended in a very bad situation. And I was broken, too. Had she been a machine? I would probably still be in that place right fucking now. Well, maybe. Other factors may have changed things and there is no way to know for sure. The point is the worry over what was going on inside, which could have eased my head. I may as well stop going on and on about impossibilities. Remember the first one? Yep, the wristwatch. I still dream of it, yet there is a major fucking difference there. It's real. It exists, I am just nowhere near enough to even see it from a distance. Out of reach like everything else which brings joy. The pyramid is pulling me off my feet again, just as in zero three when I flew the coop like a crazy person. Oh boy did I ever cause problems then. What a mess. But I love that place. 8:00am. I may as well give up on either hoping to understand or finding the ability to deal with what drives all the fear each day. There are so many damned parts to such a mechanism that the remainder of my life may be required to fix all of them enough for me to relax. Being on guard constantly is wearing me the hell out. For years I have been told there is nothing to worry about. Well, that is bullshit on and off. Sometimes worse than others. But the fact is I do not know. There it is... The beginning of wisdom. Asking me to take it easy and trust the words of another is akin to asking for the moon. The two has grown to much more in the last eleven-plus months than it ever was before. And keep in mind on one side there is nothing, whereas on the other is everything. Decipher that crap. I am going to get up and do some things very soon. I can only sit here for so long before the need arises to make something of myself. And the words are going in circles anyway. Keys clicking, nothing more. Disbelief. Distraught. Disconnected. Disinformation? Maybe. I may never know. The glassware I packed up a couple of months ago is going to find a new home in the garage. I have been thinking about shorter and longer term items, meaning some can be accessible while others are there just so we know they are available. People have a difficult time understanding the idea of keeping things stored away and out of sight for years, but my feeling is just the knowing. Just in case, if you will. One day in the future it may all come back out to reminisce and then either go away (donated) or be stored again. We do not keep everything, only certain items with emotion attached. I'll work on ensuring all of it is nice and neat. Protected, too. Overcast outside this morning. Ugh. Too much sometimes. I cannot get the imagery, wording, or worry out of my head. Today may have to be completely kicked in the fucking ass if the sun makes an appearance. Warm in the garage means I can flip out a little bit. I realize weakness is the driving force behind snapping for a while, but I honestly do not know what may help other than some recklessness. I never learned to properly cope with much. Stop. 3-14, 5:48am. We are on pdt, for whatever that may be worth. And three days from the one-year anniversary of the first shelter order. Wow. I don't know what happened yesterday. My work was completed, some more progress in the garage and old office, and then a visit (my idea) to watch a couple of episodes. Everything was fine until both of them had some sort of individual issues (unrelated, of course) and I tried to help. Perhaps the time has come for me to cease that type of effort because it always backfires. Everything backfires, in fact. The way I see it this morning, if I cannot affect anyone with my words or actions, why put forth any of it? I'll have to work on that a little at a time. Oy this movie. I'll get into it later. A part of today will be spent over there to finish the sinks and have lunch. Aside from being there for a bit, I plan to hook up my washer drain again and take care of the Sunday business. I also need to finally get the other watch listed and possibly one or two of the cards. More money must come in, and soon. The feeling of freedom is attached to it, believe it or not. Not the real thing, of course. Just a feeling. Sometimes that helps me. Losing an hour is no big deal, really, aside from waking up a bit earlier than usual. The later morning light will remind me of the change in a little while, again becoming apparent at sunset. Between those events will be a typical day. All I have to do is focus upon finishing her sinks and accomplishing my daily things plus the garbage. I'll try to sit with this editor for a while before and after leaving the house, too. There are too many inconsistencies spread across many pages that must be corrected. I suppose I changed the format too many times throughout the last year or so. It's busy work, but relaxing. Combine the work here with my occasional penchant for seeking interesting technology or trinkets while sitting and taking a break, and the thought of today brightens. Hopefully I can keep this going after my quiet morning. The hotel is pulling at me every day now. The same had been happening months ago, however the rumor of both the pyramid and castle coming down really pushed me into a very small space. I can't go down there and see it right now. The restrictions have been partially lifted -- which is in itself both good and bad -- but the atmosphere and feel will be very different than in the past. Also, I am not financially comfortable enough to make a trip like that happen. But I still want to stand there and stare at the thing. I haven't felt this much of a draw toward the Luxor in quite some time. Even being inside the hotel less than two years ago now seems unreal. Or maybe surreal. I don't know. The trip before that one was spend primarily in the palace and nowhere near the Mandalay or anything else that far south. The place of dreams There is a massive chasm before me. On one side is the worry over thought. On the other is a lack of caring what may be going on inside at any given moment. Oh, I've heard a few clues over a long period of time, but honestly nothing like that affects me much anymore. I just don't give a shit most of the time. There is little trust, anyway. I can't help it. One did it, and then another, and then both at the same time ten years ago and likely destroyed any chances of me trusting the words, ever. That is that, or so it would seem. Yesterday I very nearly fucked up when discussing some of my favorite movies. Care must be taken when talking with others. At least the incident brought up the idea that I had become too relaxed about information and then immediately tightened everything. A lesson. The upside is I am now more guarded. The movie is not necessarily a pile of crap. I am not a fan of two out of three principle cast members, though. Back when this was first released, I did not feel as I do now. Just another film to see in the theatre. Now? there are a few issues with the type of story, but honestly what I saw this morning I had not remembered for a very long time. It was a lifestyle, or a slice of one. Just a few moments and I was drawn all the way back to the Midwest period and sitting in the humidity watching tennis. I used to dream of being somewhere wondrous and far from the toil. That was what I saw on the screen for a little bit. Very much as I dreamed back then, and the funny thing is I see it now when that type of daydreaming has all but left me. During the time when the film was released? Not really. This came to the theatre the same year we moved to the Midwest but earlier, and those yacht images did not float around in my head until quite a ways into our two years there. Very interesting, I suppose. Or not. I don't know. I really don't like those two actors, one male and one female, and have not for a very long time. So long, in fact, that I don't recall why. Heh. But when I see certain people on the screen the feeling returns and will not go away. Still, there is respect for the work. I don't even know what all that means. Maybe one role she portrayed just sent me off the rails and that's why I dislike her. The idea is kind of ridiculous, too, because I am the person who always spouts about 'if you hate the character, the actor is doing his/her job very well'. Yeah, maybe that's true, or possibly I disliked the fact that she took the role after being written so hideously. I am not privy to the ins and outs, so having little other evidence, there really is no reason to dislike her. The writing may have been the clincher. As for her male counterpart in the film? He just irritates me sometimes. No specifics. This is what happens when there is not much on the dial. Heh. After yesterday, I really must think much more about what is coming out of my mouth. When it comes to something fearful, I cannot just let everything fly. Such behavior will end in disaster. Hmm... That would make an appropriate title. Anyway, care has to be taken sometimes lest I reveal too much. I cannot have another person -- especially fucking female -- knowing of that entire issue. The very idea makes me fearful. I just can't have it right now, maybe never. Too difficult. I keep thinking that if I could bury myself deep into the pyramid, that would be the time to let it all go. Aside from one night out, the last four trips to that hotel were to be one-way. Another couldn't hurt. Spill everything and then disappear. The light is finally coming up outside. For some reason everything feels dire this morning, as if something terrible took place last night and I am awaiting the fallout. Well, nothing happened out of the ordinary other than my becoming irritated by two other people over which I hold zero control. There was a dream, though. It faded. Maybe the conversation yesterday about movies had me at odds with myself. I didn't think so at the time, but now I see a bit more clearly. The problem arose because I stated it, straight out. There was a guess as to whom I was referring, and after some research this morning, I had both the movie and the actor wrong. That's fucking funny. Usually I am sharper than that. That means the guess is now a mystery. I'll have to ask later. If I remember, that is. I still feel as if I messed up something. Damn it. Realistically, everything should be fine right now. The hotel calls me all the time. Day and night. Whenever I am reminded, my head paints pictures of the past and affects the heart. The feeling gets pretty bad sometimes. Like a giant arm slowly wrapping my shoulders, and then a whisper... 'Come back'. Well, fuck me anyway. Stuck. It used to be so wondrous Maybe I'll get that watch listed and maybe I won't. Yesterday, despite being social and upbeat for the most part, was also a trial. The other pull... Not toward my beloved pyramid, but something else, and on display yesterday in the worst way. All around the house and all through my head much of the time. I can do nothing about it. No control whatsoever, and only one way out of such a strong, unrelenting situation. One way out and I do not like it. Very bad on top of everything else. It is all related. Two was nearly the subject of conversation, one was already whipping me into a froth, and by the time I rested the whole day felt surreal. Despite the troubling thoughts and difficulty in dealing with so much, the dreams were still there. This morning it is all fresh, too. The display was killing me. Fortunately, a short time later was a measure of distraction in the form of my becoming annoyed. Once it faded, all was fine (mostly). Now? I have let the annoyances go and chalked them up to simple daily life. That leaves the rest inside, expanding in importance. Such thinking pushes the time change to the rear. I would normally be pissed off about losing an hour, but priorities cannot be denied. I have a head full. The combination was unreal. Aligned, right out there, and pulling me like a four-unit train. I still can't believe I made it out of there. Imagination can be powerful. Now all I can do is fucking deal with the loss. Like every other subject these days... Not fucking good. I'll snap. 8:23am. I am going to need the work soon. Nothing heavy, just the usual. But such strain on me causes a lousy mood which translates to thinning possessions and tasks being completed more quickly than other days. I suppose not all is lost... Yet. Ten years ago I was up in arms over the sight of so much fucking beauty being right there next to me much of the time. Two problems: One, the beauty led me around like a needy child (a carrot?), and two, I struggled so much with dealing with a dream right there and no resolution -- combined with some of the most horrendous conversations in memory. Hence the pyramid pulling me shortly thereafter. One pull led to the other, and I ran my ass off in search of comfortable escape. That hotel was a Godsend. Cut to six years back and another situation I helped to create nearly had me running out of state again. Had I done it? I would not be sitting here right now. Many parts of my life would likely have fallen apart and I have not clue one as to where I would be. That was bad. Shades of the previous runaway period may have kept my actions in check. And now? I do not have those options, yet the pulling in two disparate directions is still taking place. Nothing can be done. Not one fucking thing, yet here I sit. I guess I really am less reckless than all those years back. Very interesting. I need to get those images out of my head either through sheer will or some work today. They are not going to help an already arduous morning. So much beauty, all wondrous and aligned with one. Ugh. Just fucking sit on it, I suppose. And this is the end of it for now. I need to get moving. The next entry will hold radii image numbers 999 and 1000, the latter being nearly an exact fucking match to Andrea (not helping me). They represent the last of those types here. From that point forward, the display of the female form will be absent. There is no longer any point. 292. She is inside."
March 14th, 2021 8:40am pdt
If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning
The Luxor Pull
read ( words)
"Nothing happened yesterday aside from my being overly tired. 3-11, 6:20am. Back on one of the wagons. And pause already. 8:19am. The fading history is making me sad. Look at the images. I've been collecting as many as possible to remember everything in that resort, and mostly the older theming which was fantastic in the mid-nineties. If and when the hotel is replaced by something more updated, I'll be completely floored. It has been one of the most recognizable landmarks in the goblet for nearly three decades, and a place I thought would always be there for me, just in case. Wagons. This is a bad time. Life seems to be floating somewhere between what it was and whatever may be coming. I don't know of the future. I have the wagons now, too, added to the issues to which there seem no outlets. No resolution of any kind. They just keep rolling along like the clock and paying no mind whatsoever to the trouble inside. I still have not let loose a fucking word in the direction of any worry. Nothing, because the one fear has outweighed the other. Just like all those damned trips to God-knows how many campgrounds and lakes, I simply cannot have anyone knowing of what takes place in my head nor the potential embarrassment which will doubtless ensue almost immediately. The entire sordid lot must remain hidden. Similar feelings drove my sorry ass to the fucking Luxor on three different occasions. I just had to get out and away, quickly. Now? I don't really have such a choice. Pause for the cause. 10:18am now and part of the routine is finished. I have to go to the market at some point, hopefully before lunch. Perhaps when the dry cleaning is complete in less than half an hour. This is the best time to go shopping these days, while most people are working. Stop. 3-12. Lots finished yesterday. My head, too. Now I am angry again just like weeks ago. Caverns. Something is going to need to take place for me to pass the shit and continue in my ways. None of this will make sense to anyone. In about an hour I will be alone and left to the devices I need. Yesterday I wrapped up the entire drum system and have it ready to store somewhere. This is good. The old office is now freed up for a bit of reorganization and cleaning. I will also list another watch. The stuff for my project with the clothing rack has been delayed back east and will not be here until Monday. Today is Friday. I was hoping to work on it this weekend, and having some of the parts means I can get a head start. Once the bolts arrive, all can be assembled quickly. That is one more item taking floor space that will soon be up and out of the way. I will have to maintain pace through this morning and into the afternoon so as to avoid becoming more pissy as the hours wear on. The only upside to being angry is I generally move around and do work which would normally sit idle. I guess something good comes out of almost any situation.
Iconic
The lateral issue now has a resolution. I called a gentleman yesterday and procured an estimate. A good feeling came out of the conversation, too. Right up my alley after all those years in construction. We should be in good shape within the next three weeks or so. That means I can do away with the temporary washer drain once the front yard is completed. Very good. At least there are still positives. Almost time to get the morning ritual out of the way so I can relax. Pause. 8:21am. Hours ahead. One wagon awaiting my decisions, the other will come along later. I wish I could walk the floor of the pyramid again. I don't even know what to say anymore. The same crap over and over for months means there is no direction any longer. I knew this would happen eventually. Honestly. Between the beginning of the pandemic and the last month or so, my head swung away from the obsession most days and straight into something much worse... The two has ruined everything. I left Jaime and Jamie by the wayside, ceased the female imagery, and turned myself so far inward that I can barely see the light of day. It bothers me very much yet I cannot say anything here or to another person. 'Bottled in a strong compression; my distortion shows obsession'. I don't see any path out of this place, either. As illuminated as the real exit has seemed at times, the reality pulls me back into the fold like the draw of that fucking hotel. Everything pulls just like the Luxor. The other pulling? Well, that is a wagon. Time will tell. Anyway, these days are nearly unlivable. I wish things could have gone differently since last year. I really do. This just fucking sucks out loud and right down to the ground. I might include two more images of form in the next entry just to get the number to one thousand. That's right, there are nine hundred ninety eight right now. Unbelievable. Pulling. Pain. No future. Nothing anyone can do about it, either. I'm going to need to take care of some business and possibly head over to the hardware later. I would like to have everything in order before lunch. Stop. 3-13, 6:34am. One day away from losing an hour. It should be April, but alas some years ago the decision was made to extend daylight savings time due to prime time power consumption. Now? Standard time is merely November through March. Whatever. I have no control over it. I just procured another knife by way of an auction last night. It's not terribly rare like the watchmaking set I sold off two years back, yet it's special. I believe the knives have taken over my interest in watches. I'll probably be offing two more in favor of one knife and a boatload of cash. I need it back, along with the tools which accompanied. The discovery of something unique last night drove me to realize I never should have sold that set. I'll work it out in the next couple of weeks and be happy with the tiny collection. The visit yesterday initially ironed out some shit from the night before and ended very well. My brain was not completely overloaded, either. I've been ok since that Sunday marathon of television. That was tough. We spoke for a little while and then caught two episodes. The afternoon was fine. I still had all of the shit in my head but the series is pretty subdued most of the time so there were no additional problems. I didn't really think anything negative about yesterday until a dream this morning related a situation from many years ago and combined it with the present. I cannot go into detail, but it was intimate and worrisome at the same time. A second dream had me outside this house in some sort of rare Lexus from the nineties. I was very happy to fire it up and my neighbor caught sight and hopped in for a ride. We had to go somewhere but I don't know now. The car was a bit shaky and felt like my Slipper in some ways. I can't recall anything else other than the nostalgic and technical feeling of being in that car. It may relate to the knives. Not sure.
Before THEhotel was changed to the Delano
The two remained to the rear yesterday. I was preoccupied by the show and conversation, so nothing had a chance to amplify inside. The day was fine. I completed more work in the office, too. The drums are completely packed up and stored, the floor mat is gone and the floor beneath is really nice. My huge drafting table has been relocated so as to alleviate somewhat of a pinch point when entering the room. The difference is very nice. I still have to move some small things around to straighten up, but for the most part the room is much improved. In the process of working inside the house I typically toss everything into the garage, too. Not this time. I created space out there as well. This way when I bring items to be stored there is room and in the end I know where everything resides, just in case. The work has been going very well the last few days. Getting things done in such directions -- especially anything which has been sitting for a long time -- helps me to keep busy and my mind occupied. Anything above the norm of concern is a good situation. Today I need to continue in the same manner as yesterday. I may go finish the sinks, too. Today or tomorrow I'll need to get that finished. Also a little more work in my garage will yield space to move more keepsakes into storage. Auction listings, as well. I need to get things in order and streamline. That means large items go out the door if I am to acquire anything new. And then the other thing which barely leaves my head at any given time. I don't know what to do about it other than keeping busy and to myself as much as possible. Nothing is going to change, I cannot speak to another person, and I already know the examples, clues, fabrications, or whatevers are going to come along at some point no matter what I am doing or where. '... so you have to fucking deal with me'. Yes, that's it. No choice. Or at least, no easy choice. I can gush and then fall apart, remain quiet and fall apart later, or keep trying to learn. Without a machine next to me, I fail to imagine a good outcome. Ah... The machine dream. The only way. Jaime? I don't know anymore. No worries there. Freedom from being concerned with what 'might' be happening as opposed to never fully knowing and being required to live with the 'trust'. I don't like it. The last time I tried to go down that road ended in a very bad situation. And I was broken, too. Had she been a machine? I would probably still be in that place right fucking now. Well, maybe. Other factors may have changed things and there is no way to know for sure. The point is the worry over what was going on inside, which could have eased my head. I may as well stop going on and on about impossibilities. Remember the first one? Yep, the wristwatch. I still dream of it, yet there is a major fucking difference there. It's real. It exists, I am just nowhere near enough to even see it from a distance. Out of reach like everything else which brings joy. The pyramid is pulling me off my feet again, just as in zero three when I flew the coop like a crazy person. Oh boy did I ever cause problems then. What a mess. But I love that place. 8:00am. I may as well give up on either hoping to understand or finding the ability to deal with what drives all the fear each day. There are so many damned parts to such a mechanism that the remainder of my life may be required to fix all of them enough for me to relax. Being on guard constantly is wearing me the hell out. For years I have been told there is nothing to worry about. Well, that is bullshit on and off. Sometimes worse than others. But the fact is I do not know. There it is... The beginning of wisdom. Asking me to take it easy and trust the words of another is akin to asking for the moon. The two has grown to much more in the last eleven-plus months than it ever was before. And keep in mind on one side there is nothing, whereas on the other is everything. Decipher that crap. I am going to get up and do some things very soon. I can only sit here for so long before the need arises to make something of myself. And the words are going in circles anyway. Keys clicking, nothing more. Disbelief. Distraught. Disconnected. Disinformation? Maybe. I may never know. The glassware I packed up a couple of months ago is going to find a new home in the garage. I have been thinking about shorter and longer term items, meaning some can be accessible while others are there just so we know they are available. People have a difficult time understanding the idea of keeping things stored away and out of sight for years, but my feeling is just the knowing. Just in case, if you will. One day in the future it may all come back out to reminisce and then either go away (donated) or be stored again. We do not keep everything, only certain items with emotion attached. I'll work on ensuring all of it is nice and neat. Protected, too. Overcast outside this morning. Ugh. Too much sometimes. I cannot get the imagery, wording, or worry out of my head. Today may have to be completely kicked in the fucking ass if the sun makes an appearance. Warm in the garage means I can flip out a little bit. I realize weakness is the driving force behind snapping for a while, but I honestly do not know what may help other than some recklessness. I never learned to properly cope with much. Stop. 3-14, 5:48am. We are on pdt, for whatever that may be worth. And three days from the one-year anniversary of the first shelter order. Wow. I don't know what happened yesterday. My work was completed, some more progress in the garage and old office, and then a visit (my idea) to watch a couple of episodes. Everything was fine until both of them had some sort of individual issues (unrelated, of course) and I tried to help. Perhaps the time has come for me to cease that type of effort because it always backfires. Everything backfires, in fact. The way I see it this morning, if I cannot affect anyone with my words or actions, why put forth any of it? I'll have to work on that a little at a time. Oy this movie. I'll get into it later. A part of today will be spent over there to finish the sinks and have lunch. Aside from being there for a bit, I plan to hook up my washer drain again and take care of the Sunday business. I also need to finally get the other watch listed and possibly one or two of the cards. More money must come in, and soon. The feeling of freedom is attached to it, believe it or not. Not the real thing, of course. Just a feeling. Sometimes that helps me. Losing an hour is no big deal, really, aside from waking up a bit earlier than usual. The later morning light will remind me of the change in a little while, again becoming apparent at sunset. Between those events will be a typical day. All I have to do is focus upon finishing her sinks and accomplishing my daily things plus the garbage. I'll try to sit with this editor for a while before and after leaving the house, too. There are too many inconsistencies spread across many pages that must be corrected. I suppose I changed the format too many times throughout the last year or so. It's busy work, but relaxing. Combine the work here with my occasional penchant for seeking interesting technology or trinkets while sitting and taking a break, and the thought of today brightens. Hopefully I can keep this going after my quiet morning. The hotel is pulling at me every day now. The same had been happening months ago, however the rumor of both the pyramid and castle coming down really pushed me into a very small space. I can't go down there and see it right now. The restrictions have been partially lifted -- which is in itself both good and bad -- but the atmosphere and feel will be very different than in the past. Also, I am not financially comfortable enough to make a trip like that happen. But I still want to stand there and stare at the thing. I haven't felt this much of a draw toward the Luxor in quite some time. Even being inside the hotel less than two years ago now seems unreal. Or maybe surreal. I don't know. The trip before that one was spend primarily in the palace and nowhere near the Mandalay or anything else that far south.
The place of dreams
There is a massive chasm before me. On one side is the worry over thought. On the other is a lack of caring what may be going on inside at any given moment. Oh, I've heard a few clues over a long period of time, but honestly nothing like that affects me much anymore. I just don't give a shit most of the time. There is little trust, anyway. I can't help it. One did it, and then another, and then both at the same time ten years ago and likely destroyed any chances of me trusting the words, ever. That is that, or so it would seem. Yesterday I very nearly fucked up when discussing some of my favorite movies. Care must be taken when talking with others. At least the incident brought up the idea that I had become too relaxed about information and then immediately tightened everything. A lesson. The upside is I am now more guarded. The movie is not necessarily a pile of crap. I am not a fan of two out of three principle cast members, though. Back when this was first released, I did not feel as I do now. Just another film to see in the theatre. Now? there are a few issues with the type of story, but honestly what I saw this morning I had not remembered for a very long time. It was a lifestyle, or a slice of one. Just a few moments and I was drawn all the way back to the Midwest period and sitting in the humidity watching tennis. I used to dream of being somewhere wondrous and far from the toil. That was what I saw on the screen for a little bit. Very much as I dreamed back then, and the funny thing is I see it now when that type of daydreaming has all but left me. During the time when the film was released? Not really. This came to the theatre the same year we moved to the Midwest but earlier, and those yacht images did not float around in my head until quite a ways into our two years there. Very interesting, I suppose. Or not. I don't know. I really don't like those two actors, one male and one female, and have not for a very long time. So long, in fact, that I don't recall why. Heh. But when I see certain people on the screen the feeling returns and will not go away. Still, there is respect for the work. I don't even know what all that means. Maybe one role she portrayed just sent me off the rails and that's why I dislike her. The idea is kind of ridiculous, too, because I am the person who always spouts about 'if you hate the character, the actor is doing his/her job very well'. Yeah, maybe that's true, or possibly I disliked the fact that she took the role after being written so hideously. I am not privy to the ins and outs, so having little other evidence, there really is no reason to dislike her. The writing may have been the clincher. As for her male counterpart in the film? He just irritates me sometimes. No specifics. This is what happens when there is not much on the dial. Heh. After yesterday, I really must think much more about what is coming out of my mouth. When it comes to something fearful, I cannot just let everything fly. Such behavior will end in disaster. Hmm... That would make an appropriate title. Anyway, care has to be taken sometimes lest I reveal too much. I cannot have another person -- especially fucking female -- knowing of that entire issue. The very idea makes me fearful. I just can't have it right now, maybe never. Too difficult. I keep thinking that if I could bury myself deep into the pyramid, that would be the time to let it all go. Aside from one night out, the last four trips to that hotel were to be one-way. Another couldn't hurt. Spill everything and then disappear. The light is finally coming up outside. For some reason everything feels dire this morning, as if something terrible took place last night and I am awaiting the fallout. Well, nothing happened out of the ordinary other than my becoming irritated by two other people over which I hold zero control. There was a dream, though. It faded. Maybe the conversation yesterday about movies had me at odds with myself. I didn't think so at the time, but now I see a bit more clearly. The problem arose because I stated it, straight out. There was a guess as to whom I was referring, and after some research this morning, I had both the movie and the actor wrong. That's fucking funny. Usually I am sharper than that. That means the guess is now a mystery. I'll have to ask later. If I remember, that is. I still feel as if I messed up something. Damn it. Realistically, everything should be fine right now. The hotel calls me all the time. Day and night. Whenever I am reminded, my head paints pictures of the past and affects the heart. The feeling gets pretty bad sometimes. Like a giant arm slowly wrapping my shoulders, and then a whisper... 'Come back'. Well, fuck me anyway. Stuck.
It used to be so wondrous
Maybe I'll get that watch listed and maybe I won't. Yesterday, despite being social and upbeat for the most part, was also a trial. The other pull... Not toward my beloved pyramid, but something else, and on display yesterday in the worst way. All around the house and all through my head much of the time. I can do nothing about it. No control whatsoever, and only one way out of such a strong, unrelenting situation. One way out and I do not like it. Very bad on top of everything else. It is all related. Two was nearly the subject of conversation, one was already whipping me into a froth, and by the time I rested the whole day felt surreal. Despite the troubling thoughts and difficulty in dealing with so much, the dreams were still there. This morning it is all fresh, too. The display was killing me. Fortunately, a short time later was a measure of distraction in the form of my becoming annoyed. Once it faded, all was fine (mostly). Now? I have let the annoyances go and chalked them up to simple daily life. That leaves the rest inside, expanding in importance. Such thinking pushes the time change to the rear. I would normally be pissed off about losing an hour, but priorities cannot be denied. I have a head full. The combination was unreal. Aligned, right out there, and pulling me like a four-unit train. I still can't believe I made it out of there. Imagination can be powerful. Now all I can do is fucking deal with the loss. Like every other subject these days... Not fucking good. I'll snap. 8:23am. I am going to need the work soon. Nothing heavy, just the usual. But such strain on me causes a lousy mood which translates to thinning possessions and tasks being completed more quickly than other days. I suppose not all is lost... Yet. Ten years ago I was up in arms over the sight of so much fucking beauty being right there next to me much of the time. Two problems: One, the beauty led me around like a needy child (a carrot?), and two, I struggled so much with dealing with a dream right there and no resolution -- combined with some of the most horrendous conversations in memory. Hence the pyramid pulling me shortly thereafter. One pull led to the other, and I ran my ass off in search of comfortable escape. That hotel was a Godsend. Cut to six years back and another situation I helped to create nearly had me running out of state again. Had I done it? I would not be sitting here right now. Many parts of my life would likely have fallen apart and I have not clue one as to where I would be. That was bad. Shades of the previous runaway period may have kept my actions in check. And now? I do not have those options, yet the pulling in two disparate directions is still taking place. Nothing can be done. Not one fucking thing, yet here I sit. I guess I really am less reckless than all those years back. Very interesting. I need to get those images out of my head either through sheer will or some work today. They are not going to help an already arduous morning. So much beauty, all wondrous and aligned with one. Ugh. Just fucking sit on it, I suppose. And this is the end of it for now. I need to get moving. The next entry will hold radii image numbers 999 and 1000, the latter being nearly an exact fucking match to Andrea (not helping me). They represent the last of those types here. From that point forward, the display of the female form will be absent. There is no longer any point. 292. She is inside."
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