March 20th, 2024 9:09am pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning. The Transient Vane read ( words) "A situation this morning has convinced me that one aspect of living this current period day-to-day is almost completely unnecessary. This is something I’ve been considering for the last couple of years, but now my mind is drawing conclusions. Missing pieces; stabbing thoughts; dire circumstances, and I am not referring to the other billion occasions of that phrase appearing within this content. This is different. I am not long for this world. The illumination is brighter than ever. I know. I just... Know. Helmet. Knives. Anger. This morning has demonstrated to me that whatever changed a few years ago is going to become an even larger issue than I had originally thought. My calculations are seldom correct, though. Honestly, I don’t even know how I’ve made it this long after first discovering such an issue. The situation is debilitating and very discouraging. There will be a limit to my patience, as well. How long? I have no idea, but rest assured that if I have to throw knives at the fucking problem, there will be zero hesitation. I ventured to the cigarette store with this shit swirling inside only to find that once again whoever was supposed to open the shop at ten failed to do so. I was in no mood to wait, so I took off south to the market and took care of that business without issue. Well, without further issue, anyway. There was nothing to see, thankfully. Everything is related. When there is a strike, the aforementioned problem becomes even worse. I am fairly miserable and stuck like never before. The little enjoyments had better do their job of holding me up, sure as hell. Nothing is going to improve and I have no faith left in anything beyond my little daily devices. And when I say ‘little’, I mean that in comparison, this fucking problem is overwhelming my mind. As with everything else that has caused me to be so unhappy, there is only one path to elimination. Death... Likely the largest point of speculation in existence. Good thing this house always contains an abundance of alcohol, much like the huge cocktail sitting here on the table. I have exactly zero reason to avoid anything enjoyable, regardless of the potential pitfalls. I’ve been driven to this by those who would squish me. Driven. Believe it. Knives, in mind. Miserable. This situation is fucking miserable and there is not one Goddamned thing I can do about it. Everything has either fallen away or been otherwise removed. I am reminded of those four days and the way I felt at every moment. Toyed with; somewhat disregarded; left to wonder. The latter may have been the worst. I just didn’t know because the idea of communication was in the stars. By extension, my knowledge of the situation was in a similar place. Why did I deserve that type of treatment? Oh, there were beautiful moments, yet underneath every single fucking one of them were the same two depressing questions... Is this all there is to be? Am I stuck here? I felt very strongly and she knew it. My feelings didn’t seem to matter, and I am speaking of a short period of time that took place more than a decade back. Just imagine how I feel now. I should have done something dramatic back then, but I was afraid of loss. There were aspects of that period that still stand out as wondrous and stirring, believe it or not. Given the choice of my current condition in these late days or going back and suffering only half the time, I would choose the latter. At least something took place once in a while that kept me from committing suicide. Better than nothing; better than now. This is a bad day. I am full of negative emotions right now. I will either pull out of it, or not. We shall see forsooth. Henceforth? That’s a great word... Greater than my entire life thus far. My spare bedroom experiment has failed. Just what I needed today. Knives. Friday. Does the word mean anything? Sort of. This is the last full day to myself before weekend drives and other business. I am going to do my best to embrace the quiet morning and enjoy being here as much as I can. The table move and other work might remain on hold unless I find some kind of motivation later. The dual monitor arm arrived yesterday, meaning everything is in place to set up my office once again. I may or may not work in that direction today. Right now I need to leave the time wide open to ease the difficulty inside my head. There was a very bad situation yesterday that broke my heart and then caused all sorts of anger. I even ventured into the questionable second cocktail due to being so upset with nowhere to go. Help is unavailable. I have never felt so disregarded. Squished. This vane is already taking its toll and I’ve barely begun. I didn’t do anything crazy yesterday. The main issue was having the same horrible feeling right behind my eyes all fucking day long. No matter what I was doing – be it socializing for a little while or organizing all my crap out there with some nice music in the background – each step had be going back in time to wonderful places and beautiful moments, only to return again, right fucking here, and fall all over myself trying to cover the pain. The process is fucking exhausting. I did it anyway because I can’t let slip the slightest hint of what’s going on inside me. That would be disastrous, mostly for myself. More shit I don’t need. I am going to try moving the table today in a manner so as to protect my back. Lunch hour. Sort of. Cocktail hour, for sure. I was indeed able to move the table by myself with negligible risk. The process went just fine. It is now sitting at an angle in the office with the center and right-hand displays firmly mounted on the new arms. The setup is really nice because there are no longer stands or cabling on the surface of the table. Moreover, the computer case itself now rests behind them, meaning I need not be concerned about tucking the table as close as possible to the walls. The project is on hold right now so I can have something to eat, after which I’ll relocate the power strip from the underside of this table to the new control center. I should have the entire system operational before close of business hours. The weather is quite warm today, so anything further in the garage will have to wait. And now everything is in place. The process did not require as much time as I had suspected. Very good. I still need to clean everything, though. The table is dusty. I will say that I am sitting in the office right now with my friends on the right-hand display, all of the other parts where they need to be, and only a minimum of cable management to finish. The remainder of the day may not see much work, however, because I am tired. Moreover, the knives are still apparent. I am trying to relax and avoid dwelling upon the negatives. Something wondrous may take place in a little while but I can’t be certain, nor am I sure of the timing. I’ll have to wait and see. I can’t discuss it here. Yesterday was very difficult. The issue bled over to this morning, but keeping all that difficulty in mind helped me find some decent distractions. Well, enough to keep my head out of the din for a little while, anyway. I guess that’s better than nothing because I always know the shit will come along right out of the blue and slap me across the face. The process is inevitable, as the wonderful Mr. Smith might say. Certain individuals and their behavior from the near and far past have been unconscionable. Similar situations arise now, as well. Nothing so dramatic as those from long ago, yet still they affect me because the entire shitaree becomes inflamed and I end up accomplishing little for days on end. Today, for example. Yes, the table and computer are in place and operating. Other than that? Not fucking much. I can’t really get into anything in detail because there is a near-constant noise in my head. Losing myself in a movie or other media is about the only time I don’t see all that crap. Even then, I can be hit in the face by some errant digital imagery. Familiar media helps because I am already aware of what may come across the screen(s), but newer stuff can be a huge problem. When compared to working around the house and trying to actually move forward with something, the media is much easier to deal with because my brain barely has a chance to run around the world before I must pay strict attention. The combination – such as today when I finally fired up this machine prior to finishing the layout – can also help because I don’t see as much and the detail involved in making connections is very important. I feel so broken right now. Disasters are common, although such a fact does not make them easier to swallow. In any case, and regardless of the work or anything else, I don’t see myself rising from this low point, possibly ever. Not good. As I said, this machine being operational along with the office being fairly organized is about the best I can hope for these days. At least I did something. The alternative is unpleasant. The opening aerial shots on this program often bring me back to the glow. The series was shot years after the glowing years ended, but my feelings for the City were similar regardless of the era. Wonder still existed (outside the way my head operates now), the future appeared full of excitement, and much more seemed possible than years later. Every time I see the sequence at the beginning of each episode, my head travels in time and forces the present to appear that much worse. Marvelous. I am nearly completely lost this afternoon. Good thing I already completed a bunch of shit. Saturday morning, post drive. Yep... Right out of the gate was something very special. She parked directly behind me and then strolled up the sidewalk with the gait of a goddess. Ugh. I watched, fell down a little bit in the knowledge that nothing like that will ever be close again, and then went on down the street. The remainder of the drive was uneventful, thank the maker. The rest of the day is up to me. I really wish I hadn’t seen her walking. Damage. Torment. Sadness. I am so fucking broken that I don’t even know how to describe the feelings anymore. This setup is nearly ideal for my needs. The center and right displays are kicked left just slightly due to their size, so I may have to make adjustments at some point. The machine itself is behind them. I may gain some adjustment space if I relocate the machine under the table. If I do move it, the process will be for tomorrow rather than today. Yesterday I mentioned that something wondrous may occur, and I was not only right on the money, but my feelings were further inflamed by another very unexpected incident, and one from which I will not soon recover. I spoke of the woman from this morning and the knowledge that being close is impossible. Well, yesterday I was close – not in any of the ways I really need – and could barely hold myself together. Believe me, I saw far too much. Moreover, I began watching a series from many years ago which holds its own market share of difficulties, plus the setting is Las Vegas. I know it’s bad for me, but I love that town and can’t help it. The incident from yesterday is going to further burn my brain for a while before fading. I should also point out that the word ‘impossible’ has never been more fitting, both due to yesterday and this morning. I need to make changes, and they are very difficult because I feel less effective in life right now than ever before. At least I have coffee. Better than nothing. Plus, the dinner I made last night was really nice; balanced. Tonight’s meal will be along similar lines. Hmm... Lines. I saw them, both yesterday and this morning. Within seconds, I was reduced to some errant machine in need of much more, yet allowed nothing. Desperation pretty much sums up the whole shitaree. Anyway, I am going to try having dinner preparations finished early like last night. That makes the cooking process much more straightforward. Prior to afternoon, however, my focus has to be on organization. I’ve moved two pieces of furniture into the garage during the past week (since the office was temporarily moved to the dining room) and they must be dealt with soon. One is very large and will have to be picked up with the garbage and that requires a phone call and scheduling. The other can probably be dismantled. My garage plan is going to be a very slow process. The project is not terribly pressing. I have to ensure the house is in good order before moving outside. For the time being, I am pleased to have my office and control center back in operation. If I could get those two incidents out of my brain, the morning would be much more comfortable. Alas, I have zero control over anything truly important. The vanes have taken over completely. This one is no different. My brain is still awash with what I saw yesterday. As I said, it was very unexpected. In addition, I noticed a few details that had been absent in the past, one of which cemented my suspicions from last year. None of this shit is good for me at all, but like a proper fucking addict, I took in as much as possible in the few seconds that the sight was available. I have to be careful because I can’t have the apple cart upset, especially in one way that would undoubtedly ruin my entire life, for whatever that may be worth. I can still see some of the details, too. Amazing; gorgeous; enticing beyond belief. The sighting and subsequent feelings can be described as a ‘transient’. Not good. One part of the vane hit me upside the head and I have yet to recover. Oh, boy, do I ever wish I could lay out all of the information here. I can’t. The result would be so bad that I can’t even find the words. Believe me, I need to gush about this one. I really do. Rarely have I been pulled in ten directions at the same time; typically there are only two, but the facets to this event are many. I can’t talk about most of them, either. Keeping everything inside like this is very unhealthy and will probably eventually result in some sort of breakdown. The more I think about it, the more I believe it is only a matter of time before I can no longer function as a person. I need to do something dramatic in order to diffuse this energy. I don’t want it to turn into anger again. That solves nothing. I was all fucked up, desperate and full of turmoil four years ago when I stopped working full-time. Just imagine how much worse I am on the inside than what I’m able to describe here. I know a lot of words. There are never enough. The terms that have been left out of this content are absent for very good reason. I must protect myself in two ways. I really need to scream everything, though. The war never ends. This is transient, not transitional. I’ve already had my life compressed all to shit. I’ve stated several times that if I had known about my condition later in life, I would have died in that fucking apartment. That was the plan, but alas I lost control over the only aspect of the universe I had ever held. Knives. Blood audio; blood on the cauliflower. No one knows what they mean. Just know that the latter is akin to what happened yesterday, along with my subsequent desperation and torment. I didn’t do anything all those years ago, hence my distorted place in the world. I should not even be here right now. The coffee is waning. I’ll have to do something else very soon. I enjoy sitting here in the morning, but after a while I realize nothing can be served or improved through such means, and then the shit hits me in the face. I sit here at some point every fucking day and the only change is to the negative. Wonderful. I pulled the caseback off my watch to replace the battery, and despite my great effort in leaving it undisturbed, the single screw that was removed has disappeared. The hits just keep on coming. That little screw is less than one millimeter in diameter, and barely two in length. Gone. The transients will not let up on me, damn it. First the strike, then the screw, and soon? Something else, I am sure. Cocktail time. Part of my stuff is done. The other part must await the emergence of the emperors from the spare bedroom. I moved the cars so my garage is wide open and then cleaned the tray that belongs in one of the drawers in this table. Very nice. I’ll have everything put away in good time. I have plans to get the garage in better order since moving so much crap out there, but the motivation eludes me so far today. Sunday is typically when I do more work out there, anyway, so perhaps whatever sits idle can be addressed tomorrow. There are still two pieces of furniture that I’d like gone, one of which must be scheduled for pickup, as I mentioned earlier. That move will open possibilities up the wazoo. Very good. For the remainder of today, I’m planning to take it easy. I do need to ensure that the laundry area is clear for tomorrow, and doing so is tough if the car needs to be garaged tonight. Considering the warm, clear weather, I believe I can move shit around and leave it that way all weekend. I’m also going to spend time sitting right fucking here because the compulsion – disregarding everything I need to keep locked away – is overwhelming of late. There is much I can’t say, yet I will always be saying something. I need help, God damn it all. I just need some fucking help. Nope. No one is listening. No one is ever listening. Oh, there have been a few here and there, yet the truth is they do not know enough to fully grasp what is going on with me. I don’t say enough, ever. Too scared. One more time for posterity... Once the information leaves my mouth, I no longer have control over it. Wait... What did you say? Perhaps I should take a chance just in case the benefit alleviates some of this turmoil? Well, what if the opposite occurs? Did you fucking think of that? Trust me, much of what has been processed inside my head for the last few years has a negligible chance of being accepted by another human being. After everything which has transpired for more than a decade, I already know. Just trust me. It’s bad and I simply cannot have the information out there for general consumption. That would mark the end of me, for sure. Wow. Just... Wow. Sunday morning is here, but not without transient issues. Problems. One from last night during a mostly mellow yet ill-advised social gathering in my garage, and one in the market at the tail end of my drive a little while ago. The rest of the drive was uneventful. There are now two positives: The first is being able to remain home all day to take care of business, and the second is the fact that the face attached to one of the most amazing pairs of legs I’ve ever seen was unpleasant. At first glance, the woman bent toward the bakery case as her daughter looked on from the shopping cart, and as she did, every single fucking radius was right there before my eyes, complete with the compounds I’ve sought for two fucking decades. I could not believe the apparent numbers, either. She was extremely rare because nothing was out of sorts or out of place. Each space was ideally related to the next. My head turned not once, not twice, but three times as I tried to direct my cart toward the dairy aisle. On the final glance, the numbers sharpened and became fully visible when she reached for an item. I had to immediately shove my head back toward the shopping trip and calculate the best way to get out of there without further damage. As I said, her face was not very kind. Right there is the only reason I was able to check out and then leave the market without what could have been one of the worst feelings ever. Had her face followed along with the rest of the beauty, my heart may have become involved like in the past. Thankfully, her form is already fading. Believe me when I say that she was rare and one hundred percent aligned with my deviant, distorted sense of attractiveness. Unbelievable. Another slight positive is once I began to take in her beautifully unique lines, the incident from last night eased inside me. That was a bad one. Any occasion that finds me yelling for a bit and then telling someone to grab their shit and get the fuck out of my garage is not good by any stretch of the word. The lines on that woman’s legs helped and hurt me at the same time. I’ll take the pain of seeing her without a glance back because I needed something to pull me out of the din from last night’s bullshit. I am going to remember both for a very long time, and the combination is the reason I am so pleased to have the entire day to myself. I did see her a second time a few moments later, and that is what eased the turmoil a bit. Her face. I can’t even begin to describe how pleased I am that her face did not match the rest. Terrible, yet very good at the same time. I would feel much worse right now if she had been beautiful. Much, much worse. I can’t have that shit today, especially considering my mixed feelings regarding last night. I feel bad enough already considering her positioning – something more rare than I can possibly describe. The hour is early enough so that I have all the time in the world to take care of my usual Sunday business. I have everything in line for today, that being garbage, laundry, the usual routine, and some dry cleaning. My friends are going to follow along at each step so that I remain as balanced as possible in light of the last twelve hours’ worth of shitty circumstances. I made some headway in the garage yesterday, and that means the laundry area is clear, as is the center of the room. My door shall remain closed until such time as I need to roll the cans to the street. I need to stay as closed-off as possible, like the door. I can honestly say that the last thing I need right now is to speak with another human being. I’d rather turn inward and fucking stay there for the duration. Oh, the emperors vacated the bedroom. Excellent. Half of the routine is finished. I also ventured to the backyard to set four reference points which show the eventual layout of the shed. Ten by fourteen feet is pretty big, I must say. Step two will be the foundation, and that must wait until the work week so I can contact a company that will perform the work. Now that the preliminary Sunday business is out of the way, I can focus upon the laundry and such. Once I leave this shit behind, I’ll get the video media set up and begin. The legs are gone, thankfully. I am hesitant to go into last night’s fucking problem, however, because my mood has improved and I don’t want to go back down that hill today. I’m going to ignore everyone and everything and simply go through my day taking care of whatever seems best. The world can go and fuck itself. No contact whatsoever. I am going to go about my shit without any external interference, such as transient peaks that can deplete the power sources. There is no stiffening capacitor for life. The transients will eventually end me and I don’t care. Last night was a symptom of the permanent effects of transient power. It is still a vane (like the rest), but different somehow, as if the flow of time has shifted and caused the vane styles to change. I don’t understand. Later. The routine is finished, laundry is running, and I have a head start on the garbage business. My extended family, whom I love dearly, has been keeping me company as the day progresses. The big door was open for ten minutes to load the car, but is now closed again because I need to avoid any imperial entanglements. This is break time for a little bit. I need to be off my feet prior to finishing off the kitchen (drying dishes) and making something to eat. Thanks to so much work being underway, the rest of my day will be very relaxing. I am planning to have most of the work out of the way prior to lunch, just in case I turn into a worthless pile of shit. I wish that was funny, but nothing is anymore. Nothing. Thank Christ the legs are gone. I hope they never return. As for my feelings regarding last night’s explosion, I am very pleased because of the base mindset. I may actually be closer to the forest. There’s a fucking rarity for you. If so, my stance in life shall adjust accordingly. This break will be short because I need to remain in front of the clock today. I don’t need any lingering shit when it comes time to prepare dinner. One of the guest actors in this episode is driving me up the fucking wall. Jesus. Her facial structure is beyond belief. Wow. What a fucking frightening beauty. Well, scary or not, I can still look at her. I am nobody anyway. I used to be a person. As such, the wondrous incident that took place the other evening would not have hit me so hard – not to mention the legs this morning – and left me dealing with some of the most damaging thought processes imaginable. I was an actual person. Now I am a fucking wreck. The site is completely offline right now. Last night angered me so much that I felt the need to hide more than usual. I also destroyed my sole social media account because I don’t want my name (or anything else) popping up in front of other people. I desperately need them to wonder what happened. The previous entry, ‘The Distortion Vane’, has not been published, either. The default index is blank and black. Even though I have paid for the server space, I am willing to forego any concern over cost in favor of being completely unavailable. I have no idea if or when the vast amount of content I’ve created will return to the production environment. In short, fuck everyone. I don’t care. Now I know how that one guy felt about certain aspects of living. I can’t say any more because I’ll get in trouble. I agreed with some of it, but not all. Yep... ‘That one guy’. That is all. And none of my feelings matter anyway, most notably because he is dead. The first day of the week is here. What does this mean? Not much, really. I will have some quiet time and plenty of space to consider all this shit. Yesterday ended much better than Saturday, and I am a bit more at ease knowing that nothing permanent came of the situation. Even better, I’ve created some distance, or a buffer of sorts (like the neutral zone) that will not be questioned in the future no matter the circumstances. This is a very good development because my regard for people is constantly shrinking. Now, if I could just get started on those 4355s... Never mind. Today will be appreciated on more than one level, trust me. There is another possible facet to this morning, but I can’t talk about it. I can’t discuss that other thing, either. None of it. Blank. Something in the night grabbed my attention and I can’t remember. There are feelings, but no images. Dreams can be very unreliable and very difficult to interpret, and quite often there is nothing to see after the fact, only some latent emotions. I am feeling something right now, rather like thoughts of something I saw or that was close to me and meaningful, yet at the same time I am clueless as to the subject matter. I usually lament the losses of the past and dream of impossible situations, only to awaken some time later completely depressed over being hit with reality all over again. Remember that dream about Jamie? When we were on a farm? That’s a good example of my subconscious completely ruining part of my life by showing me a beautiful and loving connection that solved everything, only to feel it ripped away within seconds. That was fucked up, but probably mostly my fault because I daydream about that woman every day and wish for much more than the Passion. I wish for a solution; a place that very likely cannot and does not exist. I still don’t know what took place inside my head while sleeping. I feel there were very special moments, most likely due to watching my program for a little while last night. I was floored for a little while during certain scenes, so perhaps that crap wound its way into my dreams. I don’t know the answer. I can only suspect. Anyway, the information is in my brain and will not leave, meaning I’m having difficulty organizing my thoughts despite the quiet. I have all day to figure it out, though. Maybe that will help. The last dream I had involving Jamie was a certainty – she was attached to me and quite clear – and I believe such things will happen again because I am so desperate for answers. She ends up at the head of the line often due to my feelings for the character in general, and her big, beautiful eyes in particular. I’ll dream of her again. As for this morning, I’m at a loss. Another transient peak, yet this time one which remains completely unidentified. Too bad. Well, I don’t expect anything good, nor do I see answers on the horizon. I wish I understood all this shit. Another day; another vane; another feeling of dread. Since I took care of so much business yesterday, I’d like to branch out a little bit today if the mood strikes. I have part of my routine out of the way already. There will be plenty of time for considering the dream, as well. I need to think about this because for some reason I’ve been thinking that one of the changes which took place a few years ago is becoming a problem. A big problem, actually. The way I view the world is at issue right now and I don’t know what to do about it. Once my housework is finished, I’ll try to sit here and go over such a mindset. This is not good, although I do have plenty of time to work on everything that has been swirling in my head. The transient vane seems to be multiplying for some reason, as if there was not already enough shit working on my brain. More time has passed and cocktail hour has arrived. My routine is finished. I don’t know what else I can do today aside from little improvements here and there. I did move forward a little bit with the shed plan, though. Yesterday I was asked if the time had come to fully engage the project, so this morning I contacted the manufacturer with some questions regarding the foundation. Once I hear back, I can speak with the company that will be forming and pouring the concrete. After it’s finished, much time will be required for it to fully set before the shed can be built. I believe the company I chose can build the entire shed in a day or two. Ah... I just received an updated quote from the manufacturer. Hmm. I was going to have an outside contractor take care of the foundation, but it seems the sales person assumed they would be doing it and adjusted the fees accordingly. A reply has now been sent. I believe it’s possible that in order to ensure the warranty is not voided, they must perform all of the work involved. I will await another response. I will say that the shed being completed is one of the most exciting and problem solving aspects of this period. It is very large – ten by fourteen feet plus eight feet in height – and will solve every single fucking storage issue in this house, plus the garage. I am having a hard time imagining such an improvement. Once completed, I’ll run with it, believe me. This could be one of the best modifications to the property, ever. I am already overjoyed and nothing has begun yet. Just... Very pleased with such a big change. At some point the process will actually kick-off, at which time I am going to organize everything that will live out there, plus make some plans to add power from the garage so that there is a ‘porch’ light and plenty of illumination inside. I will also add stepping stones leading to the door because the north wall and entrance will be roughly three feet from the concrete pad that is in the center of the yard. All this shit is exciting. Shoot me. The blown situation from the other night has been smoothed over for the time being. I am still being very cold and standoffish, but at least I need not worry about the affair turning into some bullshit protracted situation with no resolution. This is very good. I have enough going on already; more fucked up shit from external sources is quite unwelcome right now. And? One of my feet did indeed move closer to that line of life... The one between this world and the fucking forest. Excellent. Onward and upward, as my old boss used to say. I am pleased that the entire shitaree is in the past. All I have to do now is demonstrate further disdain with the inner workings of such a broken society. That’s an easy one. I’ve been following such a path for decades. Tuesday is here. Tuesday. What does this mean? It means I took the drive this morning along with all of the other commuters, but don’t have to do it again until Sunday. That’s a positive. I conversed with the shed salesman quite a bit yesterday in order to pin down the dimensions of the foundation. Once I have all of the information, I can contact my buddy and seek a timeline. One step at a time. I am really looking forward to having that building available for whatever is needed. There was nothing of note during my drive. Weekdays are tricky because the traffic patterns are much heavier and more randomized, so looking around the streets is not a very good idea. I drove there, circled, parked in the alley for two minutes, and then fled the City. Being home right now is very nice. I’ll be sitting here until the coffee is gone. After? No idea. One development I need to keep in mind is that step from the other day. I must expand upon the process as best I can and hopefully move along the path of darkness whenever allowed. This is going to be on and off my mind all day long because the importance is historic and supersedes everything else in present life. Yes... Everything. Part of the reason that place is so precious to me is that it can help organize and ease the difficulties inherent in the obsession, along with my subsequent troubles in dealing with all that I’ve lived and seen. This is a major advantage, and when combined with the dark aspects of that place, could actually become the process that saves me from this world and its machinations. Time will tell. One certainty is that I felt all of it the other day. I finally, actually felt it. Unbelievable. I’ve been trying to get one fucking toe across that line for so long that I can barely remember. Well, first it was the phone being eliminated from my home, and then the line became the cable television. Circumstances have changed so much since that early 1236 period when the forest discussion first took place that even though the cable is gone, I am still on the outside. This is sad, but I have to deal with it regardless of how I may come across. The forest mindset and deep-seated obsession came about at the same time, and both were in my head this morning as I drove through the City and tried to make my way to the destination (and then home). Everything is related. Believe it. After yesterday’s fucked up morning and subsequent feelings of loss and emptiness, this morning I have become driven to streamline everything in the office and garage for the umpteenth time. This type of mood can be very productive so long as I avoid the dreaded second cocktail prior to evening. I am trying to keep the shit at bay this morning; my lack of understanding why the world must operate in this manner, dealing with memories that seem completely impossible to repeat, and the difficulty I must endure as a result of the failed fantasy and disappearing dreams. There is a lot going on inside my head and I can’t sit here and dwell or everything may be destroyed. This is an exciting time with the shed prospect and all of the doors it will open. I’d like to enjoy the fruits of such a big change prior to the final solution being applied. Yesterday was very unpleasant. I must remain mindful of the mood that can result from such a situation and the way it can ruin my evening. There is little enough that I enjoy anymore. Moreover, if I am to have a chance of actually residing in the dreamy place (that’s a fucking problem solver), I need to keep my head up – somewhat – and follow the paths of the past; those ancient places of which I’ve only dreamed for more than two decades. All of this must work well or everything is over. My coffee is waning. I suppose I’ll get to some housework soon and leave this crap behind for a while. Keeping busy often helps the failed fantasy to be pushed away for a while. I am hoping that planning and organization help to do just that. As I often muse, the alternative is very unpleasant for everyone involved. Cocktail hour has arrived. Half of the routine is finished and I have been in communication with both parties involved in the shed project. Very nice. Once some details are hammered out, I’ll get a quote and set a date for construction. I am so looking forward to seeing that building in the yard, too. Once complete, I’ll have lots of organization to perform. For now, I’m going to keep the house quiet and sit here so I can think about everything. The shit is still looming in the background of my life, however, and that means I need to remain fairly busy with writing or whatever. I don’t want to fall on my face again. Yesterday was very disheartening. The shed is going to keep me occupied for months, meaning I’ll have a major distraction to help hold me up. I really need it, especially now. The situation on the other side of the planet is fucking heartbreaking and makes me feel as if my problems are actually pretty damned minimal. That’s because in comparison, everything is a fucking cake walk. I ventured onto the roof to pull the two antennas and weather transmitters. All of it needs to be reconfigured, and the radio antenna must be tossed in the trash. There is a newer version of one of the best antennas on the market and I intend to acquire it and put it up in place of the old one. I’m tired of the directional aspects of the signal receiving devices and need something more stable and better built. There is a face on the display that resembles the race girl. Very interesting. And? Rare, in my experience. Anyway, I don’t plan to accomplish much more today due to feeling very disillusioned. The memories of being there are killing me right now. I’ve never been more full of need than these last few months. In fact, this condition feels exponentially worse than just last month. Not good. I think tomorrow will be better because I can keep all this shit in mind and begin the day from a better standpoint. I hope so, anyway. The shed business is exciting. Perhaps I can ride that for a while and leave some of the other, more difficult shit behind. Wait and see. One positive thing right now is that I’ve been increasingly comfortable during the evenings, especially when dinner is a simple affair. Since the afternoon has waned considerably, I am looking forward to sinking into the process very soon. Evenings now remind me of mornings. I am typically fine until after lunch – unless, of course, there is something disastrous or very disillusioning – and then fall to pieces until the late afternoon. I don’t know why it’s always the same unless I am buried within some project. Today was supposed to be more antenna work, but I lost my way again. At least all my crap is put away. I’ll probably chip away at the stuff tomorrow. The transients will not let up on my brain. There was a bad one yesterday which resulted in a very uncomfortable time period and me unwilling to push for improvement. I felt THAT bad. I’m sure something will come along soon and derail me again. In the meantime, I’m going to take it easy. Sometimes I need to look out for myself despite the responsibilities. I ordered the antenna for good measure. Curious, in removing all of the equipment from the roof mast, I took down my vane anemometer. A vane. Very interesting. That one causes no problems whatsoever. The current vane wreaks tons of havoc every day with its transient peaks and periods. Attack; decay; sustain; release. The attack has been truncated, the release shortened. Compression and gating have taken their toll. I wish I could go back to the ‘kept’ vane. That seemed easier. I went out to the garage and compacted some of the antenna parts. Cocktail hour is incoming, perhaps thirty minutes or less. There is little ambition inside me right now so I didn’t finish that stuff. Maybe tomorrow if the mood strikes. Hopefully, the evening will be quiet and relaxing. I could use it after the last couple of days. And the entries are all beginning to sound the same. Hmm... Maybe they have for four years. Wednesday feels like Monday because of the driving business in between. Very strange. Regardless, I have the next several hours to myself. After becoming disillusioned for the billionth time yesterday afternoon, I ended up delaying cocktail hour and heading back to the garage to pick up where I left off. That worked for a little while. I felt better, to a point, before returning to the house for dinner preparations. As I finished caring for the antenna and other transmitters (weather), I realized that there are several little projects I can tackle out there that can ease the storage. I may work on them today. Any boost these days is a good thing. And away we go... We are drifting in the gray yet again. The days of old have returned somewhat and left us considering the view from the old editor on the top floor. We can see the hills and windmills. That was a wondrous time. The appreciation may have been lacking, as well. A wondrous time. No, not like the glowing years or the post-Midwest ‘afterglow’ with the big stores and computer hopes, but more like a transition from unseeing to seeing. The mood music came to life; the trips every other Friday helped us keep ourselves organized. Oh, we stared back then, too. We gazed when the mood struck, much like at present. Looking out the big glass door toward the east often led us to dreamy landscapes in stunning locales, none of which we felt could ever be achieved. As of this moment nearly twenty years later, we have not. The toe that broke the plane was the furthest, ever. During those three years, we went outside ourselves on occasion and gazed with wide wonder at those nearby, often later falling down and full of feelings of loss even though nothing was as such. We’ve mentioned Cara, Michelle (the second of three, believe it or now), and perhaps even the ‘drunkard’ sisters, Carolyn and Shannon. There were others, too, and some who really stood out. Oh, we almost forgot the neighbor from downstairs. Jesus. We were in our element yet out of our minds. That may have been the period which cemented our destiny. Sitting at the editor on those Friday mornings felt open and free to a certain extent, and we dreamed of those landscapes often. The obscurity of the mood music became a way of life, as well. We still live that life. We still drift in the gray... The dim of reality as opposed to the brightness of possibility. All gone. We have tried to get it back, failed, and then tried again. In the end, the effort was for naught. Our hopes were for naught. Life is ‘naught’. The feelings do not end. The gray holds tight. The cold takes over on the inside. The little boat is on fairly rough seas with nary a chance to reach the other side. The foghorn blows. The sky is brown and gray; the water completely black with glare. The lighting is very dim. We are alone here. The foghorn again; noncommittal in its location. We cannot localize. Only the sea. Everything is fading. We are different, yet the same. Distractions abound. They alter the sense and then we feel as if we are different... In some other place at some errant time. We are not. We are the same and there is simply no fucking way around it. We. Must. Find. A. Way. To. Go. Back. A return... But not all the way; not literally. We need to FEEL differently, if such a thing is at all possible. We have to return to a few ways of thinking – just a handful of what we’ve done in the past – in order to regain a measure of composure. Not all of it. Just ‘some’. A bit. We need to reach and find those places where our heads used to reside at times; those morning moods that let slip the harshness of our standpoint and outlook. We have to find a way to get back that otherworldly strength. The gray is helping, somewhat. We need more. The office is a reminder. The right-hand display is most definitely not. The gray is apparent this morning, just as it was during the period in question. Even the sky is gray for the most part. Inside? We are turning gray. Not the hair... We said ‘inside’. Returning will not be easy by any stretch of the word. Not at all. We need it regardless of the effort. The 1236 period was most definitely the beginning, after that horrible period in the other place when everything went sideways for a time. That was the most disheartening and rage-inducing event imaginable, especially considering the vast amount of engineering and effort involved in the build. We succeeded, as well. We nearly had the fucking thing completely finished, beautiful, and operating far better than expected. And then? The event... That fucking morning. Within hours, we altered our stance and began to design very harmful and damaging mitigations. Sharpness; high-voltage triggers. We sought the experience from our work and began to view society much like during the late glow. Anger permeated every step of life. Later, just after the beginning of 1236, the feelings became much stronger and drove us toward the mood, not to mention the forest itself. The wondrous, freeing feelings during those mornings as we gazed out the window became doctrine. We have only a part of that gray; a fraction of what took place during one of the most defining periods in life. The transient vane is becoming nervous. We can feel it. There is a line here... A door that operates in only one direction. Once traversed, that door will disappear forever and leave us on the darker, more questionable, and dangerous side. Turning around will be useless. We have to be there. We have to regain the feelings from on high. We need it like oxygen. Arrival means pain, but we may have to endure just to see if freedom awaits." 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March 20th, 2024 9:09am pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning. The Transient Vane read ( words) "A situation this morning has convinced me that one aspect of living this current period day-to-day is almost completely unnecessary. This is something I’ve been considering for the last couple of years, but now my mind is drawing conclusions. Missing pieces; stabbing thoughts; dire circumstances, and I am not referring to the other billion occasions of that phrase appearing within this content. This is different. I am not long for this world. The illumination is brighter than ever. I know. I just... Know. Helmet. Knives. Anger. This morning has demonstrated to me that whatever changed a few years ago is going to become an even larger issue than I had originally thought. My calculations are seldom correct, though. Honestly, I don’t even know how I’ve made it this long after first discovering such an issue. The situation is debilitating and very discouraging. There will be a limit to my patience, as well. How long? I have no idea, but rest assured that if I have to throw knives at the fucking problem, there will be zero hesitation. I ventured to the cigarette store with this shit swirling inside only to find that once again whoever was supposed to open the shop at ten failed to do so. I was in no mood to wait, so I took off south to the market and took care of that business without issue. Well, without further issue, anyway. There was nothing to see, thankfully. Everything is related. When there is a strike, the aforementioned problem becomes even worse. I am fairly miserable and stuck like never before. The little enjoyments had better do their job of holding me up, sure as hell. Nothing is going to improve and I have no faith left in anything beyond my little daily devices. And when I say ‘little’, I mean that in comparison, this fucking problem is overwhelming my mind. As with everything else that has caused me to be so unhappy, there is only one path to elimination. Death... Likely the largest point of speculation in existence. Good thing this house always contains an abundance of alcohol, much like the huge cocktail sitting here on the table. I have exactly zero reason to avoid anything enjoyable, regardless of the potential pitfalls. I’ve been driven to this by those who would squish me. Driven. Believe it. Knives, in mind. Miserable. This situation is fucking miserable and there is not one Goddamned thing I can do about it. Everything has either fallen away or been otherwise removed. I am reminded of those four days and the way I felt at every moment. Toyed with; somewhat disregarded; left to wonder. The latter may have been the worst. I just didn’t know because the idea of communication was in the stars. By extension, my knowledge of the situation was in a similar place. Why did I deserve that type of treatment? Oh, there were beautiful moments, yet underneath every single fucking one of them were the same two depressing questions... Is this all there is to be? Am I stuck here? I felt very strongly and she knew it. My feelings didn’t seem to matter, and I am speaking of a short period of time that took place more than a decade back. Just imagine how I feel now. I should have done something dramatic back then, but I was afraid of loss. There were aspects of that period that still stand out as wondrous and stirring, believe it or not. Given the choice of my current condition in these late days or going back and suffering only half the time, I would choose the latter. At least something took place once in a while that kept me from committing suicide. Better than nothing; better than now. This is a bad day. I am full of negative emotions right now. I will either pull out of it, or not. We shall see forsooth. Henceforth? That’s a great word... Greater than my entire life thus far. My spare bedroom experiment has failed. Just what I needed today. Knives. Friday. Does the word mean anything? Sort of. This is the last full day to myself before weekend drives and other business. I am going to do my best to embrace the quiet morning and enjoy being here as much as I can. The table move and other work might remain on hold unless I find some kind of motivation later. The dual monitor arm arrived yesterday, meaning everything is in place to set up my office once again. I may or may not work in that direction today. Right now I need to leave the time wide open to ease the difficulty inside my head. There was a very bad situation yesterday that broke my heart and then caused all sorts of anger. I even ventured into the questionable second cocktail due to being so upset with nowhere to go. Help is unavailable. I have never felt so disregarded. Squished. This vane is already taking its toll and I’ve barely begun. I didn’t do anything crazy yesterday. The main issue was having the same horrible feeling right behind my eyes all fucking day long. No matter what I was doing – be it socializing for a little while or organizing all my crap out there with some nice music in the background – each step had be going back in time to wonderful places and beautiful moments, only to return again, right fucking here, and fall all over myself trying to cover the pain. The process is fucking exhausting. I did it anyway because I can’t let slip the slightest hint of what’s going on inside me. That would be disastrous, mostly for myself. More shit I don’t need. I am going to try moving the table today in a manner so as to protect my back. Lunch hour. Sort of. Cocktail hour, for sure. I was indeed able to move the table by myself with negligible risk. The process went just fine. It is now sitting at an angle in the office with the center and right-hand displays firmly mounted on the new arms. The setup is really nice because there are no longer stands or cabling on the surface of the table. Moreover, the computer case itself now rests behind them, meaning I need not be concerned about tucking the table as close as possible to the walls. The project is on hold right now so I can have something to eat, after which I’ll relocate the power strip from the underside of this table to the new control center. I should have the entire system operational before close of business hours. The weather is quite warm today, so anything further in the garage will have to wait. And now everything is in place. The process did not require as much time as I had suspected. Very good. I still need to clean everything, though. The table is dusty. I will say that I am sitting in the office right now with my friends on the right-hand display, all of the other parts where they need to be, and only a minimum of cable management to finish. The remainder of the day may not see much work, however, because I am tired. Moreover, the knives are still apparent. I am trying to relax and avoid dwelling upon the negatives. Something wondrous may take place in a little while but I can’t be certain, nor am I sure of the timing. I’ll have to wait and see. I can’t discuss it here. Yesterday was very difficult. The issue bled over to this morning, but keeping all that difficulty in mind helped me find some decent distractions. Well, enough to keep my head out of the din for a little while, anyway. I guess that’s better than nothing because I always know the shit will come along right out of the blue and slap me across the face. The process is inevitable, as the wonderful Mr. Smith might say. Certain individuals and their behavior from the near and far past have been unconscionable. Similar situations arise now, as well. Nothing so dramatic as those from long ago, yet still they affect me because the entire shitaree becomes inflamed and I end up accomplishing little for days on end. Today, for example. Yes, the table and computer are in place and operating. Other than that? Not fucking much. I can’t really get into anything in detail because there is a near-constant noise in my head. Losing myself in a movie or other media is about the only time I don’t see all that crap. Even then, I can be hit in the face by some errant digital imagery. Familiar media helps because I am already aware of what may come across the screen(s), but newer stuff can be a huge problem. When compared to working around the house and trying to actually move forward with something, the media is much easier to deal with because my brain barely has a chance to run around the world before I must pay strict attention. The combination – such as today when I finally fired up this machine prior to finishing the layout – can also help because I don’t see as much and the detail involved in making connections is very important. I feel so broken right now. Disasters are common, although such a fact does not make them easier to swallow. In any case, and regardless of the work or anything else, I don’t see myself rising from this low point, possibly ever. Not good. As I said, this machine being operational along with the office being fairly organized is about the best I can hope for these days. At least I did something. The alternative is unpleasant. The opening aerial shots on this program often bring me back to the glow. The series was shot years after the glowing years ended, but my feelings for the City were similar regardless of the era. Wonder still existed (outside the way my head operates now), the future appeared full of excitement, and much more seemed possible than years later. Every time I see the sequence at the beginning of each episode, my head travels in time and forces the present to appear that much worse. Marvelous. I am nearly completely lost this afternoon. Good thing I already completed a bunch of shit. Saturday morning, post drive. Yep... Right out of the gate was something very special. She parked directly behind me and then strolled up the sidewalk with the gait of a goddess. Ugh. I watched, fell down a little bit in the knowledge that nothing like that will ever be close again, and then went on down the street. The remainder of the drive was uneventful, thank the maker. The rest of the day is up to me. I really wish I hadn’t seen her walking. Damage. Torment. Sadness. I am so fucking broken that I don’t even know how to describe the feelings anymore. This setup is nearly ideal for my needs. The center and right displays are kicked left just slightly due to their size, so I may have to make adjustments at some point. The machine itself is behind them. I may gain some adjustment space if I relocate the machine under the table. If I do move it, the process will be for tomorrow rather than today. Yesterday I mentioned that something wondrous may occur, and I was not only right on the money, but my feelings were further inflamed by another very unexpected incident, and one from which I will not soon recover. I spoke of the woman from this morning and the knowledge that being close is impossible. Well, yesterday I was close – not in any of the ways I really need – and could barely hold myself together. Believe me, I saw far too much. Moreover, I began watching a series from many years ago which holds its own market share of difficulties, plus the setting is Las Vegas. I know it’s bad for me, but I love that town and can’t help it. The incident from yesterday is going to further burn my brain for a while before fading. I should also point out that the word ‘impossible’ has never been more fitting, both due to yesterday and this morning. I need to make changes, and they are very difficult because I feel less effective in life right now than ever before. At least I have coffee. Better than nothing. Plus, the dinner I made last night was really nice; balanced. Tonight’s meal will be along similar lines. Hmm... Lines. I saw them, both yesterday and this morning. Within seconds, I was reduced to some errant machine in need of much more, yet allowed nothing. Desperation pretty much sums up the whole shitaree. Anyway, I am going to try having dinner preparations finished early like last night. That makes the cooking process much more straightforward. Prior to afternoon, however, my focus has to be on organization. I’ve moved two pieces of furniture into the garage during the past week (since the office was temporarily moved to the dining room) and they must be dealt with soon. One is very large and will have to be picked up with the garbage and that requires a phone call and scheduling. The other can probably be dismantled. My garage plan is going to be a very slow process. The project is not terribly pressing. I have to ensure the house is in good order before moving outside. For the time being, I am pleased to have my office and control center back in operation. If I could get those two incidents out of my brain, the morning would be much more comfortable. Alas, I have zero control over anything truly important. The vanes have taken over completely. This one is no different. My brain is still awash with what I saw yesterday. As I said, it was very unexpected. In addition, I noticed a few details that had been absent in the past, one of which cemented my suspicions from last year. None of this shit is good for me at all, but like a proper fucking addict, I took in as much as possible in the few seconds that the sight was available. I have to be careful because I can’t have the apple cart upset, especially in one way that would undoubtedly ruin my entire life, for whatever that may be worth. I can still see some of the details, too. Amazing; gorgeous; enticing beyond belief. The sighting and subsequent feelings can be described as a ‘transient’. Not good. One part of the vane hit me upside the head and I have yet to recover. Oh, boy, do I ever wish I could lay out all of the information here. I can’t. The result would be so bad that I can’t even find the words. Believe me, I need to gush about this one. I really do. Rarely have I been pulled in ten directions at the same time; typically there are only two, but the facets to this event are many. I can’t talk about most of them, either. Keeping everything inside like this is very unhealthy and will probably eventually result in some sort of breakdown. The more I think about it, the more I believe it is only a matter of time before I can no longer function as a person. I need to do something dramatic in order to diffuse this energy. I don’t want it to turn into anger again. That solves nothing. I was all fucked up, desperate and full of turmoil four years ago when I stopped working full-time. Just imagine how much worse I am on the inside than what I’m able to describe here. I know a lot of words. There are never enough. The terms that have been left out of this content are absent for very good reason. I must protect myself in two ways. I really need to scream everything, though. The war never ends. This is transient, not transitional. I’ve already had my life compressed all to shit. I’ve stated several times that if I had known about my condition later in life, I would have died in that fucking apartment. That was the plan, but alas I lost control over the only aspect of the universe I had ever held. Knives. Blood audio; blood on the cauliflower. No one knows what they mean. Just know that the latter is akin to what happened yesterday, along with my subsequent desperation and torment. I didn’t do anything all those years ago, hence my distorted place in the world. I should not even be here right now. The coffee is waning. I’ll have to do something else very soon. I enjoy sitting here in the morning, but after a while I realize nothing can be served or improved through such means, and then the shit hits me in the face. I sit here at some point every fucking day and the only change is to the negative. Wonderful. I pulled the caseback off my watch to replace the battery, and despite my great effort in leaving it undisturbed, the single screw that was removed has disappeared. The hits just keep on coming. That little screw is less than one millimeter in diameter, and barely two in length. Gone. The transients will not let up on me, damn it. First the strike, then the screw, and soon? Something else, I am sure. Cocktail time. Part of my stuff is done. The other part must await the emergence of the emperors from the spare bedroom. I moved the cars so my garage is wide open and then cleaned the tray that belongs in one of the drawers in this table. Very nice. I’ll have everything put away in good time. I have plans to get the garage in better order since moving so much crap out there, but the motivation eludes me so far today. Sunday is typically when I do more work out there, anyway, so perhaps whatever sits idle can be addressed tomorrow. There are still two pieces of furniture that I’d like gone, one of which must be scheduled for pickup, as I mentioned earlier. That move will open possibilities up the wazoo. Very good. For the remainder of today, I’m planning to take it easy. I do need to ensure that the laundry area is clear for tomorrow, and doing so is tough if the car needs to be garaged tonight. Considering the warm, clear weather, I believe I can move shit around and leave it that way all weekend. I’m also going to spend time sitting right fucking here because the compulsion – disregarding everything I need to keep locked away – is overwhelming of late. There is much I can’t say, yet I will always be saying something. I need help, God damn it all. I just need some fucking help. Nope. No one is listening. No one is ever listening. Oh, there have been a few here and there, yet the truth is they do not know enough to fully grasp what is going on with me. I don’t say enough, ever. Too scared. One more time for posterity... Once the information leaves my mouth, I no longer have control over it. Wait... What did you say? Perhaps I should take a chance just in case the benefit alleviates some of this turmoil? Well, what if the opposite occurs? Did you fucking think of that? Trust me, much of what has been processed inside my head for the last few years has a negligible chance of being accepted by another human being. After everything which has transpired for more than a decade, I already know. Just trust me. It’s bad and I simply cannot have the information out there for general consumption. That would mark the end of me, for sure. Wow. Just... Wow. Sunday morning is here, but not without transient issues. Problems. One from last night during a mostly mellow yet ill-advised social gathering in my garage, and one in the market at the tail end of my drive a little while ago. The rest of the drive was uneventful. There are now two positives: The first is being able to remain home all day to take care of business, and the second is the fact that the face attached to one of the most amazing pairs of legs I’ve ever seen was unpleasant. At first glance, the woman bent toward the bakery case as her daughter looked on from the shopping cart, and as she did, every single fucking radius was right there before my eyes, complete with the compounds I’ve sought for two fucking decades. I could not believe the apparent numbers, either. She was extremely rare because nothing was out of sorts or out of place. Each space was ideally related to the next. My head turned not once, not twice, but three times as I tried to direct my cart toward the dairy aisle. On the final glance, the numbers sharpened and became fully visible when she reached for an item. I had to immediately shove my head back toward the shopping trip and calculate the best way to get out of there without further damage. As I said, her face was not very kind. Right there is the only reason I was able to check out and then leave the market without what could have been one of the worst feelings ever. Had her face followed along with the rest of the beauty, my heart may have become involved like in the past. Thankfully, her form is already fading. Believe me when I say that she was rare and one hundred percent aligned with my deviant, distorted sense of attractiveness. Unbelievable. Another slight positive is once I began to take in her beautifully unique lines, the incident from last night eased inside me. That was a bad one. Any occasion that finds me yelling for a bit and then telling someone to grab their shit and get the fuck out of my garage is not good by any stretch of the word. The lines on that woman’s legs helped and hurt me at the same time. I’ll take the pain of seeing her without a glance back because I needed something to pull me out of the din from last night’s bullshit. I am going to remember both for a very long time, and the combination is the reason I am so pleased to have the entire day to myself. I did see her a second time a few moments later, and that is what eased the turmoil a bit. Her face. I can’t even begin to describe how pleased I am that her face did not match the rest. Terrible, yet very good at the same time. I would feel much worse right now if she had been beautiful. Much, much worse. I can’t have that shit today, especially considering my mixed feelings regarding last night. I feel bad enough already considering her positioning – something more rare than I can possibly describe. The hour is early enough so that I have all the time in the world to take care of my usual Sunday business. I have everything in line for today, that being garbage, laundry, the usual routine, and some dry cleaning. My friends are going to follow along at each step so that I remain as balanced as possible in light of the last twelve hours’ worth of shitty circumstances. I made some headway in the garage yesterday, and that means the laundry area is clear, as is the center of the room. My door shall remain closed until such time as I need to roll the cans to the street. I need to stay as closed-off as possible, like the door. I can honestly say that the last thing I need right now is to speak with another human being. I’d rather turn inward and fucking stay there for the duration. Oh, the emperors vacated the bedroom. Excellent. Half of the routine is finished. I also ventured to the backyard to set four reference points which show the eventual layout of the shed. Ten by fourteen feet is pretty big, I must say. Step two will be the foundation, and that must wait until the work week so I can contact a company that will perform the work. Now that the preliminary Sunday business is out of the way, I can focus upon the laundry and such. Once I leave this shit behind, I’ll get the video media set up and begin. The legs are gone, thankfully. I am hesitant to go into last night’s fucking problem, however, because my mood has improved and I don’t want to go back down that hill today. I’m going to ignore everyone and everything and simply go through my day taking care of whatever seems best. The world can go and fuck itself. No contact whatsoever. I am going to go about my shit without any external interference, such as transient peaks that can deplete the power sources. There is no stiffening capacitor for life. The transients will eventually end me and I don’t care. Last night was a symptom of the permanent effects of transient power. It is still a vane (like the rest), but different somehow, as if the flow of time has shifted and caused the vane styles to change. I don’t understand. Later. The routine is finished, laundry is running, and I have a head start on the garbage business. My extended family, whom I love dearly, has been keeping me company as the day progresses. The big door was open for ten minutes to load the car, but is now closed again because I need to avoid any imperial entanglements. This is break time for a little bit. I need to be off my feet prior to finishing off the kitchen (drying dishes) and making something to eat. Thanks to so much work being underway, the rest of my day will be very relaxing. I am planning to have most of the work out of the way prior to lunch, just in case I turn into a worthless pile of shit. I wish that was funny, but nothing is anymore. Nothing. Thank Christ the legs are gone. I hope they never return. As for my feelings regarding last night’s explosion, I am very pleased because of the base mindset. I may actually be closer to the forest. There’s a fucking rarity for you. If so, my stance in life shall adjust accordingly. This break will be short because I need to remain in front of the clock today. I don’t need any lingering shit when it comes time to prepare dinner. One of the guest actors in this episode is driving me up the fucking wall. Jesus. Her facial structure is beyond belief. Wow. What a fucking frightening beauty. Well, scary or not, I can still look at her. I am nobody anyway. I used to be a person. As such, the wondrous incident that took place the other evening would not have hit me so hard – not to mention the legs this morning – and left me dealing with some of the most damaging thought processes imaginable. I was an actual person. Now I am a fucking wreck. The site is completely offline right now. Last night angered me so much that I felt the need to hide more than usual. I also destroyed my sole social media account because I don’t want my name (or anything else) popping up in front of other people. I desperately need them to wonder what happened. The previous entry, ‘The Distortion Vane’, has not been published, either. The default index is blank and black. Even though I have paid for the server space, I am willing to forego any concern over cost in favor of being completely unavailable. I have no idea if or when the vast amount of content I’ve created will return to the production environment. In short, fuck everyone. I don’t care. Now I know how that one guy felt about certain aspects of living. I can’t say any more because I’ll get in trouble. I agreed with some of it, but not all. Yep... ‘That one guy’. That is all. And none of my feelings matter anyway, most notably because he is dead. The first day of the week is here. What does this mean? Not much, really. I will have some quiet time and plenty of space to consider all this shit. Yesterday ended much better than Saturday, and I am a bit more at ease knowing that nothing permanent came of the situation. Even better, I’ve created some distance, or a buffer of sorts (like the neutral zone) that will not be questioned in the future no matter the circumstances. This is a very good development because my regard for people is constantly shrinking. Now, if I could just get started on those 4355s... Never mind. Today will be appreciated on more than one level, trust me. There is another possible facet to this morning, but I can’t talk about it. I can’t discuss that other thing, either. None of it. Blank. Something in the night grabbed my attention and I can’t remember. There are feelings, but no images. Dreams can be very unreliable and very difficult to interpret, and quite often there is nothing to see after the fact, only some latent emotions. I am feeling something right now, rather like thoughts of something I saw or that was close to me and meaningful, yet at the same time I am clueless as to the subject matter. I usually lament the losses of the past and dream of impossible situations, only to awaken some time later completely depressed over being hit with reality all over again. Remember that dream about Jamie? When we were on a farm? That’s a good example of my subconscious completely ruining part of my life by showing me a beautiful and loving connection that solved everything, only to feel it ripped away within seconds. That was fucked up, but probably mostly my fault because I daydream about that woman every day and wish for much more than the Passion. I wish for a solution; a place that very likely cannot and does not exist. I still don’t know what took place inside my head while sleeping. I feel there were very special moments, most likely due to watching my program for a little while last night. I was floored for a little while during certain scenes, so perhaps that crap wound its way into my dreams. I don’t know the answer. I can only suspect. Anyway, the information is in my brain and will not leave, meaning I’m having difficulty organizing my thoughts despite the quiet. I have all day to figure it out, though. Maybe that will help. The last dream I had involving Jamie was a certainty – she was attached to me and quite clear – and I believe such things will happen again because I am so desperate for answers. She ends up at the head of the line often due to my feelings for the character in general, and her big, beautiful eyes in particular. I’ll dream of her again. As for this morning, I’m at a loss. Another transient peak, yet this time one which remains completely unidentified. Too bad. Well, I don’t expect anything good, nor do I see answers on the horizon. I wish I understood all this shit. Another day; another vane; another feeling of dread. Since I took care of so much business yesterday, I’d like to branch out a little bit today if the mood strikes. I have part of my routine out of the way already. There will be plenty of time for considering the dream, as well. I need to think about this because for some reason I’ve been thinking that one of the changes which took place a few years ago is becoming a problem. A big problem, actually. The way I view the world is at issue right now and I don’t know what to do about it. Once my housework is finished, I’ll try to sit here and go over such a mindset. This is not good, although I do have plenty of time to work on everything that has been swirling in my head. The transient vane seems to be multiplying for some reason, as if there was not already enough shit working on my brain. More time has passed and cocktail hour has arrived. My routine is finished. I don’t know what else I can do today aside from little improvements here and there. I did move forward a little bit with the shed plan, though. Yesterday I was asked if the time had come to fully engage the project, so this morning I contacted the manufacturer with some questions regarding the foundation. Once I hear back, I can speak with the company that will be forming and pouring the concrete. After it’s finished, much time will be required for it to fully set before the shed can be built. I believe the company I chose can build the entire shed in a day or two. Ah... I just received an updated quote from the manufacturer. Hmm. I was going to have an outside contractor take care of the foundation, but it seems the sales person assumed they would be doing it and adjusted the fees accordingly. A reply has now been sent. I believe it’s possible that in order to ensure the warranty is not voided, they must perform all of the work involved. I will await another response. I will say that the shed being completed is one of the most exciting and problem solving aspects of this period. It is very large – ten by fourteen feet plus eight feet in height – and will solve every single fucking storage issue in this house, plus the garage. I am having a hard time imagining such an improvement. Once completed, I’ll run with it, believe me. This could be one of the best modifications to the property, ever. I am already overjoyed and nothing has begun yet. Just... Very pleased with such a big change. At some point the process will actually kick-off, at which time I am going to organize everything that will live out there, plus make some plans to add power from the garage so that there is a ‘porch’ light and plenty of illumination inside. I will also add stepping stones leading to the door because the north wall and entrance will be roughly three feet from the concrete pad that is in the center of the yard. All this shit is exciting. Shoot me. The blown situation from the other night has been smoothed over for the time being. I am still being very cold and standoffish, but at least I need not worry about the affair turning into some bullshit protracted situation with no resolution. This is very good. I have enough going on already; more fucked up shit from external sources is quite unwelcome right now. And? One of my feet did indeed move closer to that line of life... The one between this world and the fucking forest. Excellent. Onward and upward, as my old boss used to say. I am pleased that the entire shitaree is in the past. All I have to do now is demonstrate further disdain with the inner workings of such a broken society. That’s an easy one. I’ve been following such a path for decades. Tuesday is here. Tuesday. What does this mean? It means I took the drive this morning along with all of the other commuters, but don’t have to do it again until Sunday. That’s a positive. I conversed with the shed salesman quite a bit yesterday in order to pin down the dimensions of the foundation. Once I have all of the information, I can contact my buddy and seek a timeline. One step at a time. I am really looking forward to having that building available for whatever is needed. There was nothing of note during my drive. Weekdays are tricky because the traffic patterns are much heavier and more randomized, so looking around the streets is not a very good idea. I drove there, circled, parked in the alley for two minutes, and then fled the City. Being home right now is very nice. I’ll be sitting here until the coffee is gone. After? No idea. One development I need to keep in mind is that step from the other day. I must expand upon the process as best I can and hopefully move along the path of darkness whenever allowed. This is going to be on and off my mind all day long because the importance is historic and supersedes everything else in present life. Yes... Everything. Part of the reason that place is so precious to me is that it can help organize and ease the difficulties inherent in the obsession, along with my subsequent troubles in dealing with all that I’ve lived and seen. This is a major advantage, and when combined with the dark aspects of that place, could actually become the process that saves me from this world and its machinations. Time will tell. One certainty is that I felt all of it the other day. I finally, actually felt it. Unbelievable. I’ve been trying to get one fucking toe across that line for so long that I can barely remember. Well, first it was the phone being eliminated from my home, and then the line became the cable television. Circumstances have changed so much since that early 1236 period when the forest discussion first took place that even though the cable is gone, I am still on the outside. This is sad, but I have to deal with it regardless of how I may come across. The forest mindset and deep-seated obsession came about at the same time, and both were in my head this morning as I drove through the City and tried to make my way to the destination (and then home). Everything is related. Believe it. After yesterday’s fucked up morning and subsequent feelings of loss and emptiness, this morning I have become driven to streamline everything in the office and garage for the umpteenth time. This type of mood can be very productive so long as I avoid the dreaded second cocktail prior to evening. I am trying to keep the shit at bay this morning; my lack of understanding why the world must operate in this manner, dealing with memories that seem completely impossible to repeat, and the difficulty I must endure as a result of the failed fantasy and disappearing dreams. There is a lot going on inside my head and I can’t sit here and dwell or everything may be destroyed. This is an exciting time with the shed prospect and all of the doors it will open. I’d like to enjoy the fruits of such a big change prior to the final solution being applied. Yesterday was very unpleasant. I must remain mindful of the mood that can result from such a situation and the way it can ruin my evening. There is little enough that I enjoy anymore. Moreover, if I am to have a chance of actually residing in the dreamy place (that’s a fucking problem solver), I need to keep my head up – somewhat – and follow the paths of the past; those ancient places of which I’ve only dreamed for more than two decades. All of this must work well or everything is over. My coffee is waning. I suppose I’ll get to some housework soon and leave this crap behind for a while. Keeping busy often helps the failed fantasy to be pushed away for a while. I am hoping that planning and organization help to do just that. As I often muse, the alternative is very unpleasant for everyone involved. Cocktail hour has arrived. Half of the routine is finished and I have been in communication with both parties involved in the shed project. Very nice. Once some details are hammered out, I’ll get a quote and set a date for construction. I am so looking forward to seeing that building in the yard, too. Once complete, I’ll have lots of organization to perform. For now, I’m going to keep the house quiet and sit here so I can think about everything. The shit is still looming in the background of my life, however, and that means I need to remain fairly busy with writing or whatever. I don’t want to fall on my face again. Yesterday was very disheartening. The shed is going to keep me occupied for months, meaning I’ll have a major distraction to help hold me up. I really need it, especially now. The situation on the other side of the planet is fucking heartbreaking and makes me feel as if my problems are actually pretty damned minimal. That’s because in comparison, everything is a fucking cake walk. I ventured onto the roof to pull the two antennas and weather transmitters. All of it needs to be reconfigured, and the radio antenna must be tossed in the trash. There is a newer version of one of the best antennas on the market and I intend to acquire it and put it up in place of the old one. I’m tired of the directional aspects of the signal receiving devices and need something more stable and better built. There is a face on the display that resembles the race girl. Very interesting. And? Rare, in my experience. Anyway, I don’t plan to accomplish much more today due to feeling very disillusioned. The memories of being there are killing me right now. I’ve never been more full of need than these last few months. In fact, this condition feels exponentially worse than just last month. Not good. I think tomorrow will be better because I can keep all this shit in mind and begin the day from a better standpoint. I hope so, anyway. The shed business is exciting. Perhaps I can ride that for a while and leave some of the other, more difficult shit behind. Wait and see. One positive thing right now is that I’ve been increasingly comfortable during the evenings, especially when dinner is a simple affair. Since the afternoon has waned considerably, I am looking forward to sinking into the process very soon. Evenings now remind me of mornings. I am typically fine until after lunch – unless, of course, there is something disastrous or very disillusioning – and then fall to pieces until the late afternoon. I don’t know why it’s always the same unless I am buried within some project. Today was supposed to be more antenna work, but I lost my way again. At least all my crap is put away. I’ll probably chip away at the stuff tomorrow. The transients will not let up on my brain. There was a bad one yesterday which resulted in a very uncomfortable time period and me unwilling to push for improvement. I felt THAT bad. I’m sure something will come along soon and derail me again. In the meantime, I’m going to take it easy. Sometimes I need to look out for myself despite the responsibilities. I ordered the antenna for good measure. Curious, in removing all of the equipment from the roof mast, I took down my vane anemometer. A vane. Very interesting. That one causes no problems whatsoever. The current vane wreaks tons of havoc every day with its transient peaks and periods. Attack; decay; sustain; release. The attack has been truncated, the release shortened. Compression and gating have taken their toll. I wish I could go back to the ‘kept’ vane. That seemed easier. I went out to the garage and compacted some of the antenna parts. Cocktail hour is incoming, perhaps thirty minutes or less. There is little ambition inside me right now so I didn’t finish that stuff. Maybe tomorrow if the mood strikes. Hopefully, the evening will be quiet and relaxing. I could use it after the last couple of days. And the entries are all beginning to sound the same. Hmm... Maybe they have for four years. Wednesday feels like Monday because of the driving business in between. Very strange. Regardless, I have the next several hours to myself. After becoming disillusioned for the billionth time yesterday afternoon, I ended up delaying cocktail hour and heading back to the garage to pick up where I left off. That worked for a little while. I felt better, to a point, before returning to the house for dinner preparations. As I finished caring for the antenna and other transmitters (weather), I realized that there are several little projects I can tackle out there that can ease the storage. I may work on them today. Any boost these days is a good thing. And away we go... We are drifting in the gray yet again. The days of old have returned somewhat and left us considering the view from the old editor on the top floor. We can see the hills and windmills. That was a wondrous time. The appreciation may have been lacking, as well. A wondrous time. No, not like the glowing years or the post-Midwest ‘afterglow’ with the big stores and computer hopes, but more like a transition from unseeing to seeing. The mood music came to life; the trips every other Friday helped us keep ourselves organized. Oh, we stared back then, too. We gazed when the mood struck, much like at present. Looking out the big glass door toward the east often led us to dreamy landscapes in stunning locales, none of which we felt could ever be achieved. As of this moment nearly twenty years later, we have not. The toe that broke the plane was the furthest, ever. During those three years, we went outside ourselves on occasion and gazed with wide wonder at those nearby, often later falling down and full of feelings of loss even though nothing was as such. We’ve mentioned Cara, Michelle (the second of three, believe it or now), and perhaps even the ‘drunkard’ sisters, Carolyn and Shannon. There were others, too, and some who really stood out. Oh, we almost forgot the neighbor from downstairs. Jesus. We were in our element yet out of our minds. That may have been the period which cemented our destiny. Sitting at the editor on those Friday mornings felt open and free to a certain extent, and we dreamed of those landscapes often. The obscurity of the mood music became a way of life, as well. We still live that life. We still drift in the gray... The dim of reality as opposed to the brightness of possibility. All gone. We have tried to get it back, failed, and then tried again. In the end, the effort was for naught. Our hopes were for naught. Life is ‘naught’. The feelings do not end. The gray holds tight. The cold takes over on the inside. The little boat is on fairly rough seas with nary a chance to reach the other side. The foghorn blows. The sky is brown and gray; the water completely black with glare. The lighting is very dim. We are alone here. The foghorn again; noncommittal in its location. We cannot localize. Only the sea. Everything is fading. We are different, yet the same. Distractions abound. They alter the sense and then we feel as if we are different... In some other place at some errant time. We are not. We are the same and there is simply no fucking way around it. We. Must. Find. A. Way. To. Go. Back. A return... But not all the way; not literally. We need to FEEL differently, if such a thing is at all possible. We have to return to a few ways of thinking – just a handful of what we’ve done in the past – in order to regain a measure of composure. Not all of it. Just ‘some’. A bit. We need to reach and find those places where our heads used to reside at times; those morning moods that let slip the harshness of our standpoint and outlook. We have to find a way to get back that otherworldly strength. The gray is helping, somewhat. We need more. The office is a reminder. The right-hand display is most definitely not. The gray is apparent this morning, just as it was during the period in question. Even the sky is gray for the most part. Inside? We are turning gray. Not the hair... We said ‘inside’. Returning will not be easy by any stretch of the word. Not at all. We need it regardless of the effort. The 1236 period was most definitely the beginning, after that horrible period in the other place when everything went sideways for a time. That was the most disheartening and rage-inducing event imaginable, especially considering the vast amount of engineering and effort involved in the build. We succeeded, as well. We nearly had the fucking thing completely finished, beautiful, and operating far better than expected. And then? The event... That fucking morning. Within hours, we altered our stance and began to design very harmful and damaging mitigations. Sharpness; high-voltage triggers. We sought the experience from our work and began to view society much like during the late glow. Anger permeated every step of life. Later, just after the beginning of 1236, the feelings became much stronger and drove us toward the mood, not to mention the forest itself. The wondrous, freeing feelings during those mornings as we gazed out the window became doctrine. We have only a part of that gray; a fraction of what took place during one of the most defining periods in life. The transient vane is becoming nervous. We can feel it. There is a line here... A door that operates in only one direction. Once traversed, that door will disappear forever and leave us on the darker, more questionable, and dangerous side. Turning around will be useless. We have to be there. We have to regain the feelings from on high. We need it like oxygen. Arrival means pain, but we may have to endure just to see if freedom awaits."
March 20th, 2024 9:09am pdt
If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning.
The Transient Vane
read ( words)
"A situation this morning has convinced me that one aspect of living this current period day-to-day is almost completely unnecessary. This is something I’ve been considering for the last couple of years, but now my mind is drawing conclusions. Missing pieces; stabbing thoughts; dire circumstances, and I am not referring to the other billion occasions of that phrase appearing within this content. This is different. I am not long for this world. The illumination is brighter than ever. I know. I just... Know. Helmet. Knives. Anger. This morning has demonstrated to me that whatever changed a few years ago is going to become an even larger issue than I had originally thought. My calculations are seldom correct, though. Honestly, I don’t even know how I’ve made it this long after first discovering such an issue. The situation is debilitating and very discouraging. There will be a limit to my patience, as well. How long? I have no idea, but rest assured that if I have to throw knives at the fucking problem, there will be zero hesitation. I ventured to the cigarette store with this shit swirling inside only to find that once again whoever was supposed to open the shop at ten failed to do so. I was in no mood to wait, so I took off south to the market and took care of that business without issue. Well, without further issue, anyway. There was nothing to see, thankfully. Everything is related. When there is a strike, the aforementioned problem becomes even worse. I am fairly miserable and stuck like never before. The little enjoyments had better do their job of holding me up, sure as hell. Nothing is going to improve and I have no faith left in anything beyond my little daily devices. And when I say ‘little’, I mean that in comparison, this fucking problem is overwhelming my mind. As with everything else that has caused me to be so unhappy, there is only one path to elimination. Death... Likely the largest point of speculation in existence. Good thing this house always contains an abundance of alcohol, much like the huge cocktail sitting here on the table. I have exactly zero reason to avoid anything enjoyable, regardless of the potential pitfalls. I’ve been driven to this by those who would squish me. Driven. Believe it. Knives, in mind. Miserable. This situation is fucking miserable and there is not one Goddamned thing I can do about it. Everything has either fallen away or been otherwise removed. I am reminded of those four days and the way I felt at every moment. Toyed with; somewhat disregarded; left to wonder. The latter may have been the worst. I just didn’t know because the idea of communication was in the stars. By extension, my knowledge of the situation was in a similar place. Why did I deserve that type of treatment? Oh, there were beautiful moments, yet underneath every single fucking one of them were the same two depressing questions... Is this all there is to be? Am I stuck here? I felt very strongly and she knew it. My feelings didn’t seem to matter, and I am speaking of a short period of time that took place more than a decade back. Just imagine how I feel now. I should have done something dramatic back then, but I was afraid of loss. There were aspects of that period that still stand out as wondrous and stirring, believe it or not. Given the choice of my current condition in these late days or going back and suffering only half the time, I would choose the latter. At least something took place once in a while that kept me from committing suicide. Better than nothing; better than now. This is a bad day. I am full of negative emotions right now. I will either pull out of it, or not. We shall see forsooth. Henceforth? That’s a great word... Greater than my entire life thus far. My spare bedroom experiment has failed. Just what I needed today. Knives. Friday. Does the word mean anything? Sort of. This is the last full day to myself before weekend drives and other business. I am going to do my best to embrace the quiet morning and enjoy being here as much as I can. The table move and other work might remain on hold unless I find some kind of motivation later. The dual monitor arm arrived yesterday, meaning everything is in place to set up my office once again. I may or may not work in that direction today. Right now I need to leave the time wide open to ease the difficulty inside my head. There was a very bad situation yesterday that broke my heart and then caused all sorts of anger. I even ventured into the questionable second cocktail due to being so upset with nowhere to go. Help is unavailable. I have never felt so disregarded. Squished. This vane is already taking its toll and I’ve barely begun. I didn’t do anything crazy yesterday. The main issue was having the same horrible feeling right behind my eyes all fucking day long. No matter what I was doing – be it socializing for a little while or organizing all my crap out there with some nice music in the background – each step had be going back in time to wonderful places and beautiful moments, only to return again, right fucking here, and fall all over myself trying to cover the pain. The process is fucking exhausting. I did it anyway because I can’t let slip the slightest hint of what’s going on inside me. That would be disastrous, mostly for myself. More shit I don’t need. I am going to try moving the table today in a manner so as to protect my back. Lunch hour. Sort of. Cocktail hour, for sure. I was indeed able to move the table by myself with negligible risk. The process went just fine. It is now sitting at an angle in the office with the center and right-hand displays firmly mounted on the new arms. The setup is really nice because there are no longer stands or cabling on the surface of the table. Moreover, the computer case itself now rests behind them, meaning I need not be concerned about tucking the table as close as possible to the walls. The project is on hold right now so I can have something to eat, after which I’ll relocate the power strip from the underside of this table to the new control center. I should have the entire system operational before close of business hours. The weather is quite warm today, so anything further in the garage will have to wait. And now everything is in place. The process did not require as much time as I had suspected. Very good. I still need to clean everything, though. The table is dusty. I will say that I am sitting in the office right now with my friends on the right-hand display, all of the other parts where they need to be, and only a minimum of cable management to finish. The remainder of the day may not see much work, however, because I am tired. Moreover, the knives are still apparent. I am trying to relax and avoid dwelling upon the negatives. Something wondrous may take place in a little while but I can’t be certain, nor am I sure of the timing. I’ll have to wait and see. I can’t discuss it here. Yesterday was very difficult. The issue bled over to this morning, but keeping all that difficulty in mind helped me find some decent distractions. Well, enough to keep my head out of the din for a little while, anyway. I guess that’s better than nothing because I always know the shit will come along right out of the blue and slap me across the face. The process is inevitable, as the wonderful Mr. Smith might say. Certain individuals and their behavior from the near and far past have been unconscionable. Similar situations arise now, as well. Nothing so dramatic as those from long ago, yet still they affect me because the entire shitaree becomes inflamed and I end up accomplishing little for days on end. Today, for example. Yes, the table and computer are in place and operating. Other than that? Not fucking much. I can’t really get into anything in detail because there is a near-constant noise in my head. Losing myself in a movie or other media is about the only time I don’t see all that crap. Even then, I can be hit in the face by some errant digital imagery. Familiar media helps because I am already aware of what may come across the screen(s), but newer stuff can be a huge problem. When compared to working around the house and trying to actually move forward with something, the media is much easier to deal with because my brain barely has a chance to run around the world before I must pay strict attention. The combination – such as today when I finally fired up this machine prior to finishing the layout – can also help because I don’t see as much and the detail involved in making connections is very important. I feel so broken right now. Disasters are common, although such a fact does not make them easier to swallow. In any case, and regardless of the work or anything else, I don’t see myself rising from this low point, possibly ever. Not good. As I said, this machine being operational along with the office being fairly organized is about the best I can hope for these days. At least I did something. The alternative is unpleasant.
The opening aerial shots on this program often bring me back to the glow. The series was shot years after the glowing years ended, but my feelings for the City were similar regardless of the era. Wonder still existed (outside the way my head operates now), the future appeared full of excitement, and much more seemed possible than years later. Every time I see the sequence at the beginning of each episode, my head travels in time and forces the present to appear that much worse. Marvelous. I am nearly completely lost this afternoon. Good thing I already completed a bunch of shit. Saturday morning, post drive. Yep... Right out of the gate was something very special. She parked directly behind me and then strolled up the sidewalk with the gait of a goddess. Ugh. I watched, fell down a little bit in the knowledge that nothing like that will ever be close again, and then went on down the street. The remainder of the drive was uneventful, thank the maker. The rest of the day is up to me. I really wish I hadn’t seen her walking. Damage. Torment. Sadness. I am so fucking broken that I don’t even know how to describe the feelings anymore. This setup is nearly ideal for my needs. The center and right displays are kicked left just slightly due to their size, so I may have to make adjustments at some point. The machine itself is behind them. I may gain some adjustment space if I relocate the machine under the table. If I do move it, the process will be for tomorrow rather than today. Yesterday I mentioned that something wondrous may occur, and I was not only right on the money, but my feelings were further inflamed by another very unexpected incident, and one from which I will not soon recover. I spoke of the woman from this morning and the knowledge that being close is impossible. Well, yesterday I was close – not in any of the ways I really need – and could barely hold myself together. Believe me, I saw far too much. Moreover, I began watching a series from many years ago which holds its own market share of difficulties, plus the setting is Las Vegas. I know it’s bad for me, but I love that town and can’t help it. The incident from yesterday is going to further burn my brain for a while before fading. I should also point out that the word ‘impossible’ has never been more fitting, both due to yesterday and this morning. I need to make changes, and they are very difficult because I feel less effective in life right now than ever before. At least I have coffee. Better than nothing. Plus, the dinner I made last night was really nice; balanced. Tonight’s meal will be along similar lines. Hmm... Lines. I saw them, both yesterday and this morning. Within seconds, I was reduced to some errant machine in need of much more, yet allowed nothing. Desperation pretty much sums up the whole shitaree. Anyway, I am going to try having dinner preparations finished early like last night. That makes the cooking process much more straightforward. Prior to afternoon, however, my focus has to be on organization. I’ve moved two pieces of furniture into the garage during the past week (since the office was temporarily moved to the dining room) and they must be dealt with soon. One is very large and will have to be picked up with the garbage and that requires a phone call and scheduling. The other can probably be dismantled. My garage plan is going to be a very slow process. The project is not terribly pressing. I have to ensure the house is in good order before moving outside. For the time being, I am pleased to have my office and control center back in operation. If I could get those two incidents out of my brain, the morning would be much more comfortable. Alas, I have zero control over anything truly important. The vanes have taken over completely. This one is no different. My brain is still awash with what I saw yesterday. As I said, it was very unexpected. In addition, I noticed a few details that had been absent in the past, one of which cemented my suspicions from last year. None of this shit is good for me at all, but like a proper fucking addict, I took in as much as possible in the few seconds that the sight was available. I have to be careful because I can’t have the apple cart upset, especially in one way that would undoubtedly ruin my entire life, for whatever that may be worth. I can still see some of the details, too. Amazing; gorgeous; enticing beyond belief. The sighting and subsequent feelings can be described as a ‘transient’. Not good. One part of the vane hit me upside the head and I have yet to recover. Oh, boy, do I ever wish I could lay out all of the information here. I can’t. The result would be so bad that I can’t even find the words. Believe me, I need to gush about this one. I really do. Rarely have I been pulled in ten directions at the same time; typically there are only two, but the facets to this event are many. I can’t talk about most of them, either. Keeping everything inside like this is very unhealthy and will probably eventually result in some sort of breakdown. The more I think about it, the more I believe it is only a matter of time before I can no longer function as a person. I need to do something dramatic in order to diffuse this energy. I don’t want it to turn into anger again. That solves nothing. I was all fucked up, desperate and full of turmoil four years ago when I stopped working full-time. Just imagine how much worse I am on the inside than what I’m able to describe here. I know a lot of words. There are never enough. The terms that have been left out of this content are absent for very good reason. I must protect myself in two ways. I really need to scream everything, though. The war never ends. This is transient, not transitional. I’ve already had my life compressed all to shit. I’ve stated several times that if I had known about my condition later in life, I would have died in that fucking apartment. That was the plan, but alas I lost control over the only aspect of the universe I had ever held. Knives. Blood audio; blood on the cauliflower. No one knows what they mean. Just know that the latter is akin to what happened yesterday, along with my subsequent desperation and torment. I didn’t do anything all those years ago, hence my distorted place in the world. I should not even be here right now. The coffee is waning. I’ll have to do something else very soon. I enjoy sitting here in the morning, but after a while I realize nothing can be served or improved through such means, and then the shit hits me in the face. I sit here at some point every fucking day and the only change is to the negative. Wonderful. I pulled the caseback off my watch to replace the battery, and despite my great effort in leaving it undisturbed, the single screw that was removed has disappeared. The hits just keep on coming. That little screw is less than one millimeter in diameter, and barely two in length. Gone. The transients will not let up on me, damn it. First the strike, then the screw, and soon? Something else, I am sure. Cocktail time. Part of my stuff is done. The other part must await the emergence of the emperors from the spare bedroom. I moved the cars so my garage is wide open and then cleaned the tray that belongs in one of the drawers in this table. Very nice. I’ll have everything put away in good time. I have plans to get the garage in better order since moving so much crap out there, but the motivation eludes me so far today. Sunday is typically when I do more work out there, anyway, so perhaps whatever sits idle can be addressed tomorrow. There are still two pieces of furniture that I’d like gone, one of which must be scheduled for pickup, as I mentioned earlier. That move will open possibilities up the wazoo. Very good. For the remainder of today, I’m planning to take it easy. I do need to ensure that the laundry area is clear for tomorrow, and doing so is tough if the car needs to be garaged tonight. Considering the warm, clear weather, I believe I can move shit around and leave it that way all weekend. I’m also going to spend time sitting right fucking here because the compulsion – disregarding everything I need to keep locked away – is overwhelming of late. There is much I can’t say, yet I will always be saying something. I need help, God damn it all. I just need some fucking help. Nope. No one is listening. No one is ever listening. Oh, there have been a few here and there, yet the truth is they do not know enough to fully grasp what is going on with me. I don’t say enough, ever. Too scared. One more time for posterity... Once the information leaves my mouth, I no longer have control over it. Wait... What did you say? Perhaps I should take a chance just in case the benefit alleviates some of this turmoil? Well, what if the opposite occurs? Did you fucking think of that? Trust me, much of what has been processed inside my head for the last few years has a negligible chance of being accepted by another human being. After everything which has transpired for more than a decade, I already know. Just trust me. It’s bad and I simply cannot have the information out there for general consumption. That would mark the end of me, for sure.
Wow. Just... Wow. Sunday morning is here, but not without transient issues. Problems. One from last night during a mostly mellow yet ill-advised social gathering in my garage, and one in the market at the tail end of my drive a little while ago. The rest of the drive was uneventful. There are now two positives: The first is being able to remain home all day to take care of business, and the second is the fact that the face attached to one of the most amazing pairs of legs I’ve ever seen was unpleasant. At first glance, the woman bent toward the bakery case as her daughter looked on from the shopping cart, and as she did, every single fucking radius was right there before my eyes, complete with the compounds I’ve sought for two fucking decades. I could not believe the apparent numbers, either. She was extremely rare because nothing was out of sorts or out of place. Each space was ideally related to the next. My head turned not once, not twice, but three times as I tried to direct my cart toward the dairy aisle. On the final glance, the numbers sharpened and became fully visible when she reached for an item. I had to immediately shove my head back toward the shopping trip and calculate the best way to get out of there without further damage. As I said, her face was not very kind. Right there is the only reason I was able to check out and then leave the market without what could have been one of the worst feelings ever. Had her face followed along with the rest of the beauty, my heart may have become involved like in the past. Thankfully, her form is already fading. Believe me when I say that she was rare and one hundred percent aligned with my deviant, distorted sense of attractiveness. Unbelievable. Another slight positive is once I began to take in her beautifully unique lines, the incident from last night eased inside me. That was a bad one. Any occasion that finds me yelling for a bit and then telling someone to grab their shit and get the fuck out of my garage is not good by any stretch of the word. The lines on that woman’s legs helped and hurt me at the same time. I’ll take the pain of seeing her without a glance back because I needed something to pull me out of the din from last night’s bullshit. I am going to remember both for a very long time, and the combination is the reason I am so pleased to have the entire day to myself. I did see her a second time a few moments later, and that is what eased the turmoil a bit. Her face. I can’t even begin to describe how pleased I am that her face did not match the rest. Terrible, yet very good at the same time. I would feel much worse right now if she had been beautiful. Much, much worse. I can’t have that shit today, especially considering my mixed feelings regarding last night. I feel bad enough already considering her positioning – something more rare than I can possibly describe. The hour is early enough so that I have all the time in the world to take care of my usual Sunday business. I have everything in line for today, that being garbage, laundry, the usual routine, and some dry cleaning. My friends are going to follow along at each step so that I remain as balanced as possible in light of the last twelve hours’ worth of shitty circumstances. I made some headway in the garage yesterday, and that means the laundry area is clear, as is the center of the room. My door shall remain closed until such time as I need to roll the cans to the street. I need to stay as closed-off as possible, like the door. I can honestly say that the last thing I need right now is to speak with another human being. I’d rather turn inward and fucking stay there for the duration. Oh, the emperors vacated the bedroom. Excellent. Half of the routine is finished. I also ventured to the backyard to set four reference points which show the eventual layout of the shed. Ten by fourteen feet is pretty big, I must say. Step two will be the foundation, and that must wait until the work week so I can contact a company that will perform the work. Now that the preliminary Sunday business is out of the way, I can focus upon the laundry and such. Once I leave this shit behind, I’ll get the video media set up and begin. The legs are gone, thankfully. I am hesitant to go into last night’s fucking problem, however, because my mood has improved and I don’t want to go back down that hill today. I’m going to ignore everyone and everything and simply go through my day taking care of whatever seems best. The world can go and fuck itself. No contact whatsoever. I am going to go about my shit without any external interference, such as transient peaks that can deplete the power sources. There is no stiffening capacitor for life. The transients will eventually end me and I don’t care. Last night was a symptom of the permanent effects of transient power. It is still a vane (like the rest), but different somehow, as if the flow of time has shifted and caused the vane styles to change. I don’t understand. Later. The routine is finished, laundry is running, and I have a head start on the garbage business. My extended family, whom I love dearly, has been keeping me company as the day progresses. The big door was open for ten minutes to load the car, but is now closed again because I need to avoid any imperial entanglements. This is break time for a little bit. I need to be off my feet prior to finishing off the kitchen (drying dishes) and making something to eat. Thanks to so much work being underway, the rest of my day will be very relaxing. I am planning to have most of the work out of the way prior to lunch, just in case I turn into a worthless pile of shit. I wish that was funny, but nothing is anymore. Nothing. Thank Christ the legs are gone. I hope they never return. As for my feelings regarding last night’s explosion, I am very pleased because of the base mindset. I may actually be closer to the forest. There’s a fucking rarity for you. If so, my stance in life shall adjust accordingly. This break will be short because I need to remain in front of the clock today. I don’t need any lingering shit when it comes time to prepare dinner. One of the guest actors in this episode is driving me up the fucking wall. Jesus. Her facial structure is beyond belief. Wow. What a fucking frightening beauty. Well, scary or not, I can still look at her. I am nobody anyway. I used to be a person. As such, the wondrous incident that took place the other evening would not have hit me so hard – not to mention the legs this morning – and left me dealing with some of the most damaging thought processes imaginable. I was an actual person. Now I am a fucking wreck. The site is completely offline right now. Last night angered me so much that I felt the need to hide more than usual. I also destroyed my sole social media account because I don’t want my name (or anything else) popping up in front of other people. I desperately need them to wonder what happened. The previous entry, ‘The Distortion Vane’, has not been published, either. The default index is blank and black. Even though I have paid for the server space, I am willing to forego any concern over cost in favor of being completely unavailable. I have no idea if or when the vast amount of content I’ve created will return to the production environment. In short, fuck everyone. I don’t care. Now I know how that one guy felt about certain aspects of living. I can’t say any more because I’ll get in trouble. I agreed with some of it, but not all. Yep... ‘That one guy’. That is all. And none of my feelings matter anyway, most notably because he is dead. The first day of the week is here. What does this mean? Not much, really. I will have some quiet time and plenty of space to consider all this shit. Yesterday ended much better than Saturday, and I am a bit more at ease knowing that nothing permanent came of the situation. Even better, I’ve created some distance, or a buffer of sorts (like the neutral zone) that will not be questioned in the future no matter the circumstances. This is a very good development because my regard for people is constantly shrinking. Now, if I could just get started on those 4355s... Never mind. Today will be appreciated on more than one level, trust me. There is another possible facet to this morning, but I can’t talk about it. I can’t discuss that other thing, either. None of it. Blank. Something in the night grabbed my attention and I can’t remember. There are feelings, but no images. Dreams can be very unreliable and very difficult to interpret, and quite often there is nothing to see after the fact, only some latent emotions. I am feeling something right now, rather like thoughts of something I saw or that was close to me and meaningful, yet at the same time I am clueless as to the subject matter. I usually lament the losses of the past and dream of impossible situations, only to awaken some time later completely depressed over being hit with reality all over again. Remember that dream about Jamie? When we were on a farm? That’s a good example of my subconscious completely ruining part of my life by showing me a beautiful and loving connection that solved everything, only to feel it ripped away within seconds. That was fucked up, but probably mostly my fault because I daydream about that woman every day and wish for much more than the Passion. I wish for a solution; a place that very likely cannot and does not exist. I still don’t know what took place inside my head while sleeping. I feel there were very special moments, most likely due to watching my program for a little while last night. I was floored for a little while during certain scenes, so perhaps that crap wound its way into my dreams. I don’t know the answer. I can only suspect. Anyway, the information is in my brain and will not leave, meaning I’m having difficulty organizing my thoughts despite the quiet. I have all day to figure it out, though. Maybe that will help. The last dream I had involving Jamie was a certainty – she was attached to me and quite clear – and I believe such things will happen again because I am so desperate for answers. She ends up at the head of the line often due to my feelings for the character in general, and her big, beautiful eyes in particular. I’ll dream of her again. As for this morning, I’m at a loss. Another transient peak, yet this time one which remains completely unidentified. Too bad. Well, I don’t expect anything good, nor do I see answers on the horizon.
I wish I understood all this shit. Another day; another vane; another feeling of dread. Since I took care of so much business yesterday, I’d like to branch out a little bit today if the mood strikes. I have part of my routine out of the way already. There will be plenty of time for considering the dream, as well. I need to think about this because for some reason I’ve been thinking that one of the changes which took place a few years ago is becoming a problem. A big problem, actually. The way I view the world is at issue right now and I don’t know what to do about it. Once my housework is finished, I’ll try to sit here and go over such a mindset. This is not good, although I do have plenty of time to work on everything that has been swirling in my head. The transient vane seems to be multiplying for some reason, as if there was not already enough shit working on my brain. More time has passed and cocktail hour has arrived. My routine is finished. I don’t know what else I can do today aside from little improvements here and there. I did move forward a little bit with the shed plan, though. Yesterday I was asked if the time had come to fully engage the project, so this morning I contacted the manufacturer with some questions regarding the foundation. Once I hear back, I can speak with the company that will be forming and pouring the concrete. After it’s finished, much time will be required for it to fully set before the shed can be built. I believe the company I chose can build the entire shed in a day or two. Ah... I just received an updated quote from the manufacturer. Hmm. I was going to have an outside contractor take care of the foundation, but it seems the sales person assumed they would be doing it and adjusted the fees accordingly. A reply has now been sent. I believe it’s possible that in order to ensure the warranty is not voided, they must perform all of the work involved. I will await another response. I will say that the shed being completed is one of the most exciting and problem solving aspects of this period. It is very large – ten by fourteen feet plus eight feet in height – and will solve every single fucking storage issue in this house, plus the garage. I am having a hard time imagining such an improvement. Once completed, I’ll run with it, believe me. This could be one of the best modifications to the property, ever. I am already overjoyed and nothing has begun yet. Just... Very pleased with such a big change. At some point the process will actually kick-off, at which time I am going to organize everything that will live out there, plus make some plans to add power from the garage so that there is a ‘porch’ light and plenty of illumination inside. I will also add stepping stones leading to the door because the north wall and entrance will be roughly three feet from the concrete pad that is in the center of the yard. All this shit is exciting. Shoot me. The blown situation from the other night has been smoothed over for the time being. I am still being very cold and standoffish, but at least I need not worry about the affair turning into some bullshit protracted situation with no resolution. This is very good. I have enough going on already; more fucked up shit from external sources is quite unwelcome right now. And? One of my feet did indeed move closer to that line of life... The one between this world and the fucking forest. Excellent. Onward and upward, as my old boss used to say. I am pleased that the entire shitaree is in the past. All I have to do now is demonstrate further disdain with the inner workings of such a broken society. That’s an easy one. I’ve been following such a path for decades. Tuesday is here. Tuesday. What does this mean? It means I took the drive this morning along with all of the other commuters, but don’t have to do it again until Sunday. That’s a positive. I conversed with the shed salesman quite a bit yesterday in order to pin down the dimensions of the foundation. Once I have all of the information, I can contact my buddy and seek a timeline. One step at a time. I am really looking forward to having that building available for whatever is needed. There was nothing of note during my drive. Weekdays are tricky because the traffic patterns are much heavier and more randomized, so looking around the streets is not a very good idea. I drove there, circled, parked in the alley for two minutes, and then fled the City. Being home right now is very nice. I’ll be sitting here until the coffee is gone. After? No idea. One development I need to keep in mind is that step from the other day. I must expand upon the process as best I can and hopefully move along the path of darkness whenever allowed. This is going to be on and off my mind all day long because the importance is historic and supersedes everything else in present life. Yes... Everything. Part of the reason that place is so precious to me is that it can help organize and ease the difficulties inherent in the obsession, along with my subsequent troubles in dealing with all that I’ve lived and seen. This is a major advantage, and when combined with the dark aspects of that place, could actually become the process that saves me from this world and its machinations. Time will tell. One certainty is that I felt all of it the other day. I finally, actually felt it. Unbelievable. I’ve been trying to get one fucking toe across that line for so long that I can barely remember. Well, first it was the phone being eliminated from my home, and then the line became the cable television. Circumstances have changed so much since that early 1236 period when the forest discussion first took place that even though the cable is gone, I am still on the outside. This is sad, but I have to deal with it regardless of how I may come across. The forest mindset and deep-seated obsession came about at the same time, and both were in my head this morning as I drove through the City and tried to make my way to the destination (and then home). Everything is related. Believe it. After yesterday’s fucked up morning and subsequent feelings of loss and emptiness, this morning I have become driven to streamline everything in the office and garage for the umpteenth time. This type of mood can be very productive so long as I avoid the dreaded second cocktail prior to evening. I am trying to keep the shit at bay this morning; my lack of understanding why the world must operate in this manner, dealing with memories that seem completely impossible to repeat, and the difficulty I must endure as a result of the failed fantasy and disappearing dreams. There is a lot going on inside my head and I can’t sit here and dwell or everything may be destroyed. This is an exciting time with the shed prospect and all of the doors it will open. I’d like to enjoy the fruits of such a big change prior to the final solution being applied. Yesterday was very unpleasant. I must remain mindful of the mood that can result from such a situation and the way it can ruin my evening. There is little enough that I enjoy anymore. Moreover, if I am to have a chance of actually residing in the dreamy place (that’s a fucking problem solver), I need to keep my head up – somewhat – and follow the paths of the past; those ancient places of which I’ve only dreamed for more than two decades. All of this must work well or everything is over. My coffee is waning. I suppose I’ll get to some housework soon and leave this crap behind for a while. Keeping busy often helps the failed fantasy to be pushed away for a while. I am hoping that planning and organization help to do just that. As I often muse, the alternative is very unpleasant for everyone involved. Cocktail hour has arrived. Half of the routine is finished and I have been in communication with both parties involved in the shed project. Very nice. Once some details are hammered out, I’ll get a quote and set a date for construction. I am so looking forward to seeing that building in the yard, too. Once complete, I’ll have lots of organization to perform. For now, I’m going to keep the house quiet and sit here so I can think about everything. The shit is still looming in the background of my life, however, and that means I need to remain fairly busy with writing or whatever. I don’t want to fall on my face again. Yesterday was very disheartening. The shed is going to keep me occupied for months, meaning I’ll have a major distraction to help hold me up. I really need it, especially now. The situation on the other side of the planet is fucking heartbreaking and makes me feel as if my problems are actually pretty damned minimal. That’s because in comparison, everything is a fucking cake walk.
I ventured onto the roof to pull the two antennas and weather transmitters. All of it needs to be reconfigured, and the radio antenna must be tossed in the trash. There is a newer version of one of the best antennas on the market and I intend to acquire it and put it up in place of the old one. I’m tired of the directional aspects of the signal receiving devices and need something more stable and better built. There is a face on the display that resembles the race girl. Very interesting. And? Rare, in my experience. Anyway, I don’t plan to accomplish much more today due to feeling very disillusioned. The memories of being there are killing me right now. I’ve never been more full of need than these last few months. In fact, this condition feels exponentially worse than just last month. Not good. I think tomorrow will be better because I can keep all this shit in mind and begin the day from a better standpoint. I hope so, anyway. The shed business is exciting. Perhaps I can ride that for a while and leave some of the other, more difficult shit behind. Wait and see. One positive thing right now is that I’ve been increasingly comfortable during the evenings, especially when dinner is a simple affair. Since the afternoon has waned considerably, I am looking forward to sinking into the process very soon. Evenings now remind me of mornings. I am typically fine until after lunch – unless, of course, there is something disastrous or very disillusioning – and then fall to pieces until the late afternoon. I don’t know why it’s always the same unless I am buried within some project. Today was supposed to be more antenna work, but I lost my way again. At least all my crap is put away. I’ll probably chip away at the stuff tomorrow. The transients will not let up on my brain. There was a bad one yesterday which resulted in a very uncomfortable time period and me unwilling to push for improvement. I felt THAT bad. I’m sure something will come along soon and derail me again. In the meantime, I’m going to take it easy. Sometimes I need to look out for myself despite the responsibilities. I ordered the antenna for good measure. Curious, in removing all of the equipment from the roof mast, I took down my vane anemometer. A vane. Very interesting. That one causes no problems whatsoever. The current vane wreaks tons of havoc every day with its transient peaks and periods. Attack; decay; sustain; release. The attack has been truncated, the release shortened. Compression and gating have taken their toll. I wish I could go back to the ‘kept’ vane. That seemed easier. I went out to the garage and compacted some of the antenna parts. Cocktail hour is incoming, perhaps thirty minutes or less. There is little ambition inside me right now so I didn’t finish that stuff. Maybe tomorrow if the mood strikes. Hopefully, the evening will be quiet and relaxing. I could use it after the last couple of days. And the entries are all beginning to sound the same. Hmm... Maybe they have for four years. Wednesday feels like Monday because of the driving business in between. Very strange. Regardless, I have the next several hours to myself. After becoming disillusioned for the billionth time yesterday afternoon, I ended up delaying cocktail hour and heading back to the garage to pick up where I left off. That worked for a little while. I felt better, to a point, before returning to the house for dinner preparations. As I finished caring for the antenna and other transmitters (weather), I realized that there are several little projects I can tackle out there that can ease the storage. I may work on them today. Any boost these days is a good thing. And away we go... We are drifting in the gray yet again. The days of old have returned somewhat and left us considering the view from the old editor on the top floor. We can see the hills and windmills. That was a wondrous time. The appreciation may have been lacking, as well. A wondrous time. No, not like the glowing years or the post-Midwest ‘afterglow’ with the big stores and computer hopes, but more like a transition from unseeing to seeing. The mood music came to life; the trips every other Friday helped us keep ourselves organized. Oh, we stared back then, too. We gazed when the mood struck, much like at present. Looking out the big glass door toward the east often led us to dreamy landscapes in stunning locales, none of which we felt could ever be achieved. As of this moment nearly twenty years later, we have not. The toe that broke the plane was the furthest, ever. During those three years, we went outside ourselves on occasion and gazed with wide wonder at those nearby, often later falling down and full of feelings of loss even though nothing was as such. We’ve mentioned Cara, Michelle (the second of three, believe it or now), and perhaps even the ‘drunkard’ sisters, Carolyn and Shannon. There were others, too, and some who really stood out. Oh, we almost forgot the neighbor from downstairs. Jesus. We were in our element yet out of our minds. That may have been the period which cemented our destiny. Sitting at the editor on those Friday mornings felt open and free to a certain extent, and we dreamed of those landscapes often. The obscurity of the mood music became a way of life, as well. We still live that life. We still drift in the gray... The dim of reality as opposed to the brightness of possibility. All gone. We have tried to get it back, failed, and then tried again. In the end, the effort was for naught. Our hopes were for naught. Life is ‘naught’. The feelings do not end. The gray holds tight. The cold takes over on the inside. The little boat is on fairly rough seas with nary a chance to reach the other side. The foghorn blows. The sky is brown and gray; the water completely black with glare. The lighting is very dim. We are alone here. The foghorn again; noncommittal in its location. We cannot localize. Only the sea. Everything is fading. We are different, yet the same. Distractions abound. They alter the sense and then we feel as if we are different... In some other place at some errant time. We are not. We are the same and there is simply no fucking way around it. We. Must. Find. A. Way. To. Go. Back. A return... But not all the way; not literally. We need to FEEL differently, if such a thing is at all possible. We have to return to a few ways of thinking – just a handful of what we’ve done in the past – in order to regain a measure of composure. Not all of it. Just ‘some’. A bit. We need to reach and find those places where our heads used to reside at times; those morning moods that let slip the harshness of our standpoint and outlook. We have to find a way to get back that otherworldly strength. The gray is helping, somewhat. We need more. The office is a reminder. The right-hand display is most definitely not. The gray is apparent this morning, just as it was during the period in question. Even the sky is gray for the most part. Inside? We are turning gray. Not the hair... We said ‘inside’. Returning will not be easy by any stretch of the word. Not at all. We need it regardless of the effort. The 1236 period was most definitely the beginning, after that horrible period in the other place when everything went sideways for a time. That was the most disheartening and rage-inducing event imaginable, especially considering the vast amount of engineering and effort involved in the build. We succeeded, as well. We nearly had the fucking thing completely finished, beautiful, and operating far better than expected. And then? The event... That fucking morning. Within hours, we altered our stance and began to design very harmful and damaging mitigations. Sharpness; high-voltage triggers. We sought the experience from our work and began to view society much like during the late glow. Anger permeated every step of life. Later, just after the beginning of 1236, the feelings became much stronger and drove us toward the mood, not to mention the forest itself. The wondrous, freeing feelings during those mornings as we gazed out the window became doctrine. We have only a part of that gray; a fraction of what took place during one of the most defining periods in life. The transient vane is becoming nervous. We can feel it. There is a line here... A door that operates in only one direction. Once traversed, that door will disappear forever and leave us on the darker, more questionable, and dangerous side. Turning around will be useless. We have to be there. We have to regain the feelings from on high. We need it like oxygen. Arrival means pain, but we may have to endure just to see if freedom awaits."
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