Tomorrow Came Yesterday

More work at work today and tomorrow, so I should sit up too late, but there are things in my head that need to come out so I can rest easier tonight. Remember the nightmare of a few days past? Did I not mention it? Foolish if I didn't, but whatever, this is an entry started yesterday in the middle of the night (or was it early morning) in another entry (in case it matters) and continued later that day in pieces and now, it is tomorrow as far as the entry that starts in the next paragraph is concerned, but since it's always today, none of this time talk may matter.

Yesterday, there was a late night, or maybe middle of the night entry (as the time-date stamp shows), sent by email from the phone after waking to use to empty the bladder and move from the recliner, where I nodded off some time after dinner, to the bed. It appears I slept more than a few hours, though I woke a few times due to neck or other bodily discomforts and it appears from the daily darker circles under my eyes and other signs that I am not sleeping as restfully as I used to. Am I repeating myself? Is it important enough to repeat? Will it help me remember? Will it help me get help remembering? Will it save y life? This is a recent occurrence, increasing pain in the left side upon waking (pretty certain it is renal system related, but uncertain if it might be digestive system related and possibly related to the increasing laxatives I consume with meals.

The mayo clinic recommends:

Eat fiber-rich foods, such as wheat bran, fresh fruits and vegetables, and oats. (aka FIBER)
Drink plenty of fluids daily.
Exercise regularly.

Yeah, well, I drink plenty of fluids, though less lately. I exercise more occasionally than regularly, especially lately when softball season is on hiatus. I rarely eat grains, fruits, or vegetables lately (not including pasta or chocolate in that category). Almost three strikes.Jane may help save this body from old age symptoms and death if she follows through and we buy me that elliptical next Monday. I need to get the addresses of the places we need to go before then. Why not now? Ok.

Now looking deeper at the typical advice... Oral bulk forms (Benefiber, Citrucel, FiberCon, Metamucil), aka FIBER, absorb water to form soft, bulky stool, prompting normal contraction of intestinal muscles, but the side effects are bloating, gas, cramping or increased constipation if not taken with enough water. Now I drink more water than is healthy for the normal body on most days, but I take a diuretic to get rid of water because all that water raises my blood pressure. Fiber, simply, creates the harder stools and occasional constipation that tears the skin around my anus. So the common advice creates rectal bleeding, increased anemia, and all sorts of other painful dangerous health issues. Fuck you fiber and all the medical industry professionals and wanna-be know-it-alls (quacks) who recommend it.

There, one myth busted. Know your body.Kik fiber's ass befre it kicks mine. Plenty of fluids, yes, but monitor blood pressure. Exercise regularly, that I'll agree with whole heartedly, for now. I certainly shall be doing further study on the matter if I wish to be wise and prudent, no doubt.

Did you know I often put links in entries for the distinct purpose of reminding myself to remember something? Even if I don't re-read, the writing and linking is one step further in creating the stronger memory of whatever it is I am trying to remind myself to remember. I forget that sometimes, but the endless hope that someone will come along and remind me to remember the really important life and death stuff, life this, keeps me writing and linking and hoping... did you know?

It's easy to forget...

and so it was xmas
and I was not here
taking care of others
is my gift this year
it's what I love to do most
and I give it my best
my gift is just loving
it's time I confessed
I pretend there's family
anyway I can
I hope not to impose
that's never my plan
I find any reason
to linger where I
might get a little hug
or a look in the eye

but I look away quickly
so I do not cry

Well, I got that xmas hug, by hook or by crook. I pet sat for Jackson and Brandi and had love all around me for almost eight hours. A dog and two cats. They both told me I didn't have to stay and maybe they were telling me to not be there when they got home, but I found a reason to stay, the kids needed me (even if it's just my delusion) and so I got my hug as they came in and left immediately. Begging for a hug as I do can be kind of awkward (even if no one else acknowledges it).

There is so much more between the lines (and between the links), I wonder if anyone can see...

nite nite...

Narf :)

Yesterday Returns Tomorrow

I woke up today, crying, lost in a lost world. So many people are dying, lying lost in a lost world. Most of them are living illusions, blinded by the fear in their own minds. In their eyes it's nation against nation, and racial pride, mass suicide, dying lost within themselves. There must be a way. To save ourselves today. If we'd just empower love.

I swore to myself, no more fat and bloat, clogging the vessels, choking my throat, the morning brings pain, the proof I'm insane, fast walking toward death, barely catch my breath, reaching out, reaching in, don't know how to begin anymore. Time to go to work so out the door.

The day moves so fast, each moment could be last, fix this fix that, pull rabbits out of hats. The senses meet all the holiday treats, pressures release, stress becomes peace, like magic was, chocolate does. I've learned to find joy making everything toys without guilt, fear, or shame, everything is a game. Without break, without rest, I give it all my best, and passing the test, perhaps they're impressed.

Alone at my desk, after everyone left, I finish more tasks, more than anyone asks, then head out for home, always on my own, in love with the night, and the words I write.

I find my roommate, home from vacation, a ride to the airport, to return the car. And on the way back, the weakness intact, one more pizza stop, and the promise is dropped. The tears of the morning, forgotten for food, the pain of the past, never seems to last, I buy it deep, somewhere in the sleep, and now it's too late, as I've sealed my fate, living one more day, in spite of this way.

With hope for tomorrow I look for the promise I made in the morning to stop al the lies. Depressing denial has put me on trial and condemned by pleasures and feigning surprise. Accepting the pretense, the repression is dense, illusion, confusion, contusion in thought. Someone who cares as I do, better, in fact, though and through. Wake me from this nightmare, just share, just care, for all to see, honestly, unconditionally, it's all we can be. The bliss somehow finds me, memories remind me, of forgotten dream, that wake me it seems, and somehow the mystery ends, as I fall asleep dreaming friends. Feeling so heavy, feeling so light, merry XMAS to all, and to all a good night.

Actually, it was yesterday, but who's counting?

Narf :)

Flurries of Forever

The coincidence of the season, with boxes gift wrapped all around, it must be nice to have a big family. TA visited his and there are dozens of presents piled up here, distracting me from the primary activity most important to me, which is survival and... prolonging this life. The chocolate stares me down like a mammoth in a block of ice moving at a glacier's pace toward the last day of this life, with minimal punctuation and hardly a breath or pause, I am still as carelessly carefree as I ever was. As I ever was.

As if I'll live forever, I challenge all good sense, I stuff my face with carbs and fats, and sweets, my best defense - against thinking about the future, or even looking around now... I'd do what is best for me but I do my best to forget how.

Pretending I would if I could, but I don't as if I couldn't, knowing I should... Frosty the Snowman... never had it so good.

Fifty-five degrees and feeling the chill. Half a hot shower is half a thrill, momentary overkill. Holding back the flood of ears that poured out inside over the years not because of any fears just wondering why no one cares, I mean, everyone cares, just not enough to show. Everyone cares about themselves and what little they know. I always want more because I want everything, because I feel everything, because I am everything, why don't you know you are part of everything too, the universe and me and you. how do you turn off your feelings so well? Maybe it's because you've bought into heaven and hell. Whatever tomorrow may bring, today is my only time and even if it doesn't always write, I'll stay a spell.

Who said Be Here Now and did he really? Die? Yesterday is still a natural high. If we never say hello, we don't have to say goodbye, maybe that's why so many don't even try, maybe that's why so many choose to live a lie. In promises of tomorrows that only come after you die. Living in the moment, feeling everything, letting imagination expand the reality, but still rooted in the moment, feeling everything, can you open your eyes and let your self sing? Or are you too afraid of something - or everything.

Everything at once, in the moment, is the only reality I know. Everyone at once, in the moment, and we've only just begun. Experiencing every moment with all senses wide open, letting everything show without fear is so much fun. Why wouldn't anyone choose any other way to be? I've been trying to understand for years, creating illusionary fears, trying to fit in, trying to connect, trying to be like my peers, but it's not working... as nobody nears.

Still feeling part of everything, even feeling on my own, being part of everything is never being alone. The illusions of loneliness are not as strong as reality, even if I opened the floodgates and tried to let tears drown me, I'd only remember how to breath under water, it, and everything else, is still there... deep in every memory. Hereditary memory? Inter-species memory? Life-long memories can come back to the moment as all life is part of everything, flurries of forever, like magic the moment can become... everything.

Good morning :)

Narf :)

Unfinished Foolish Games

Waking from the worst betrayal dream I've had in a long time, there are no words. Waking one minute before my alarm was set, no recovery time. No resolution. No peace. Just the end of the trust, the end of the last vestige of hope for bonding with anyone in this life.

That is why there is no elliptical. That is why I eat the way I do lately. The way the people closest to me eat all the time. The way Americans eat. The way humans eat (I know no all and I can choose - this dream and entry may be that choice, but let's see where this goes, m'ok?). No gym. No exercise. No wisdom. No sense. No family. No friends.

Living like a refugee. A life in storage, $140 a month to keep some connection to those who once said they loved me. Is that what that is about? Bandaids over old wounds? Are they still bleeding? The dream suggests they are.

Is 2020 the year I bring all that stuff down here? And do what with it? And what condition is it in? And what condition will I be in when I look at all the stuff again? Party all alone?

These foolish games.

Rain falls outside. Eyes are blurry. The phone says it is 68 degrees. here. And 68 degrees where I work. And 68 degrees where I play ball most, where I used to live with Jackson). And 68 degrees where Jackson used to live. And 66 degrees where Jackson lives now. And 68 degrees where I lived before moving here. And 66 degrees in Orlando. And 64 degrees in Tampa. And 39 degrees in New York, where so many memories are stored. And 37 degrees in Toronto, where so much was left behind (and the storage is between the last two places). And 30 degrees in Nashville, left over from tournaments (why not Kansas City, the last big Tournament... or Ft Lauderdale, the last tournament?... no room for more places, perhaps). Forecast rain all day and is 54 degrees for tonight here.


Recovery. Shower. Work.


To be continued...

Reactive, Proactive, Inactive, and Distractive

The babble has slowed, the river is low, the words do not flow as they used to. The sorrow is deep, and not enough sleep, and emptiness keeps the mind askew. Distractions abound, reactions resound, protractive procrastination embeds me in a inactive wake, fatigue resonates, so a proactive state eludes me. Where has all the cleverness gone, long time passing. Where has all the wisdom gone, long time ago. Where has all the wondering gone, and the asking. It's all gone noodly, off and misconstruedly, when will we ever learn? When will we ever learn?

Laughing all the way through the madness, we are having way too much fun in the recent sedentary stupors. When there is no softball, there is almost nothing. Though the last three weekends were busy, three parties (or was it four), a show, and more. The work project(s) have bogged down the brain and pooped out the body so weekends became sanctuary me-time, but the TV has dominated that as lazy distraction has become habit, not to mention imbalanced eating habits and poor sleeping patterns which lower the overall energy. Still, from the core to the surface, the negative feelings (dissatisfaction, depression, whatever) are so minimal and the euphoria is so bubbling over that I do nothing to change the pattern that I know is not ideal for a healthy body. I visualize the fat guy, who I associate with cop shows, eating a huge pastrami sandwich, after a massive coronary incident, in that movie with Meg Ryan and Nick Cage, City of Angels. My laughter is genuinely fun, right to my core.

Obviously I am comfortable with the life I have lived and am ready to go, as in die, so my focus on health has waned and my focus on the pleasures of food and lounging around has dominated for a few months. Not that I want to die (so why am I tempting death so much then, aye?... and is the laughter defensive or as genuine as it feels?... ah, if you only knew me, you'd know how relative the questions and the answers truly can be - and on that reality, the deepest most self-satisfied smile broadens wide).

Weekends, gotta love 'em.

The evening was spent watching youtube videos and lovng some Janet Devlin and her vagina (hey I couldn't resist the clickbait, but seriously... I may love her openness and candor on screen even more than her singing, or maybe it's tied). Maybe she reminds me that I am looking for a partner who is comfortable enough to put it all out there (or here, for that matter).

So much more, but I think I shall attempt sleep now. Early long day tomorrow.

Are we having fun yet?


Narf :)

Wonder of Wonders (Simple Stuff)

The wonder is not the fact that I am stil hanging on to dreams so long lost in the madness and confusion of human foibles and foolishness that Id be certifiably insane in this culture if anyone actually knew what goes on in my head, but that's realtive and besides the point, mostly.

I went shopping for detergent and dish washing soap and found a lamp / wireless charger for $25 that is perfect for this space and solves a lighting issue cuz the lamp I have reflects off the TV. Th new amp can sit on a table next to the computer and does not reflect. The giddy excitement that inspired the title is the wireless bluetooth earbuds I found for $15. The work and they are comfortable, so no longer will I have to turn the TV up when the kids are here and the little one leaves the TV on loud in her room and the other living room loud while watching her iPad (which is a frequent occurrence), loud. I'd been meaning to shop for earbuds since I moved in, but somehow, like a few other things, time passed and I didn't learn what I needed to know to choose wisely. So I chose impulsively. I actually wandered around the electronics section of the store for ten minutes comparing other earbuds, but somehow I wasn't ready to spend more than a hundred dollars without knowing just why.

So ok, I can be an addicted to buying stuff consumerism if I want to be. The neurochemical highs triggered by buying stuff is still stimulating in spite of the stupidity and suicidal behavior it actually is. The dreamer can dream of no possessions and actually could live without them, but without a partner, the stuff distracts from loneliness and amuses the child and occupies the mind. Figuring out how things work, making them work right, and playing with the way stuff interacts and works with other stuff, that's fun. Sharing anything with the right person would be more fun, but alone, some of the fun comes in small packages of toys and stuff.

Laundry spins around the washer and dryer. The dishwasher is drying the dishes it washed. The floor was swept, the recliner was vacuumed, there's all sorts of cleaning and stuff going on. I even pulled out the dirt devil for the first time in years. I think it worked really well. I didn't check how well it did on the deepest recesses of the chair and I didn't turn over the chair, which would be a better way of checking and cleaning it, but hey, first vacuuming with the dirt devil is progress, right? The house is big and there's a lot more to do, but we are getting there.

This morning was fun. Softball is back, hopefully every weekend (even though it is on the field I don't like much, farther away, no shade (more than a few times overheated dangerously and twice ended up in the hospital, so no exaggeration we I say no shade.. definitely not safe during the hottest summer days, like life-threateningly dangerous on the hottest days, but it's softball and softball is life, ya know?... shhhh, I'm careful*), with more responsibility than I've taken on in a very long time. I'll be taking the lead when the senior coaches aren't there, which could be often, maybe most games. I will find someone to do the paperwork, because being ready to pitch and doing the paperwork and coaching the team is not conducive to winning or enjoying the game, but for now, I'm diving in with all I've go and excited about the change.

So the day flew by relatively speaking. Laundry overnight, softball all morning, then shopping, then food, then some writing, some TV, then a nap, then more laundry, some texting with Jackson and some others, then more writing, more TV, more snacks, and here we are. The time at softball was fun and satisfied the social life some, but I still long for more intimacy. Th personal texting with Jackson satisfied the hunger for a close friend, but I still long for more intimacy. There was a time when I ached for more sharing, cried for the empty feeling that I thought could only be filed by by another person. There was a time when I wanted to be cred about so much that I wondered about my own self-worth. I have long since learned that nobody has to care about me for me to love myself and now I am worth everything I can give, which is all I am (and there's a lot in me, potential and actual). I know I need nothing more than the physical sustenance required for this body to survive. Still, I want more.

are you listening?
Anybody?

Narf :)


* Yeah, it would be really nice if I had a partner to watch out for me and be careful with me, but I don't... and I really don't want to pass up the chance for exercise. Especially softball exercise. I'm a really nice guy, if a bit different (oh so misunderstood, alas, we can hope for the amazing mind who can... understand?) lol, so feel free to be concerned and send that partner, m'ok?

Another Day, Another Dump

Life could be measured in bowel movements, I suppose, or on a large scale, landfills, but that probably wouldn't look good on the face of a clock, so numbers was a good choice. I woke early, peed, took my vitamins, drank some water, then laid back down. The bowels suggested I get back up shortly thereafter and all went well, so I rinsed and laid back down. A noise asked for my attention, so I went to investigate and found nothing, but before laying back down I gathered some dirty laundry and put it in the washer. I then laid back down again.

Somehow I ended up here. I wrote a bit, wandered Facebook a bit (and while I wanted to react to Jackson's posts and other things, like events I was invited to {Jackson's "wall" is the only one I actually visit, maybe once or twice a month, and I visit mine sometimes when I visit hers, but that's the extent of my FBing other than glancing through the top twenty or so notifications}, or some of the notifications, particularly about my pages... today I actually looked at the news feed for the first time in maybe a year or more. I wanted to stop following people Facebook automatically makes me follow just because I aid yes to a friend request... forced following is stupid, Facebook). Between all that and the slow computer and the volume of data FB sends and gets back, each page takes up to 30 seconds to load, often longer, and I feel like I've wasted most of the time I spend there). I nodded off a few times waiting for pages to load, so this morning was no exception. Maybe this guy can explain it better, but for me, the FB experience sucks before I even get to actually see that the actual Facebook experience sucks. Tech, corporate greed, and the unwanted content combine to keep me away.

You ought know that by now, in case you look for me there.

Nodding off for brief moments throughout the day, this entry paused too many times to be uploaded in the morning when it started or the afternoon as it slowly dripped out of the mind, so it's after midnight, but I am leaving the last known time stamp just so Saturday can have it's entry as the title pretty much suggests consecutive days and all. Time is malleable like that in blogs, ya know. Relative, too.

Yesterday, or whenever this was, I was almost getting somewhere with soe focus, but mostly I've been wandering (meandering, even) rather aimlessly though the gardens as fatigue spreads and sleep deprivation creates a lot of voids in the flow. Still, as I am reminding yet again right here, I want to remember to sing my songs more often than I have. Personalize the therapy that words and music, songs, can be. Let the songs take me where I need to go. Like they used to, maybe If I can get back to where I once belonged once again.

Do you read me?

I tried napping all day and exhaustion is winning as I should have showered and gotten to Izzy's part on time, but no, I was late. No offense meant, no offense taken, and I got there in time for the gift exchange. Once again, I gave and did not receive, but that's ok. I was surprised that Sarducci, who got there a lot later than I did, didn't even acknowledge me when Tinman passed the gift I received to him and I told him he'd enjoy it a lot more than I would. It was a Hallmark collector's Christmas tree ornament from the Star Wars collection and I'm not into it, but he's pretty much a fanatic. He seems upset with many of his friends these days, but I'm not enabling his depression or blaming others for his failures, so I just ignore the rudeness and still enjoy the gift of giving. Narcissists are rarely satisfied and there's not much anyone can do to please them, so accepting him as he is makes the most sense when he comes out.

Tinman and his daughter were there, as were Harpo, Seashell, Polly and her parents, Sally, and almost fifty others. Too much food, almost all starches and sweets, as usual. Te heavily overweight outweighed (no pun intended, actually) the not overweight by a lot, in fact the seriously obese was the largest group, when looking at the people by weight. The BMI chart would have exploded. That is not the kind of influence I need as I age, so I really must limit my time with these groups and find a close friend who is a healthier influence. When this is what I come away with, I am not sure going to the arty is healthy for me on any level, but they are friends for more than 10 years and they are good people and most of all, I care about them.

After the festivities (food and gift exchanges, which was, as usual, unnecessary for me as I was not hungry (but ate some food anyway) and I gave away the gift I received, as I said), Harpo, Seashell, Tinman, and I played Fact or Crap and then Scattergories, both chose by Seashell. I couldn't hear the others during the first game, so I had an unfair disadvantage, but I joined in and came in second to Seashell. I won both rounds of the second game, scoring 34 and 30, respectively. I was surprised as my brain was definitely not rapid firing tonight.

Stopping at the Post Office for the first time in many months, I found toll by plate invoices from August and I hope my registration and license haven't been affected yet. I'll call tomorrow, or Monday if they are closed tomorrow, and straighten out whatever I owe them. Hopefully the administrative fees and penalties won't be too bad. That's what I get for taking toll roads out of state and out of town. A ton of other ail was there as well, including spices I ordered months ago, and I'll look through the rest tomorrow. Mental note - check PO box more often. Yup.

Arriving home, I used the potty and showered a bit and came here to sit and finished this entry. Now that we've caught up with some of the DDD, I am not going to let my mind wander where it will do, wherever that is, because I have an early call for softball practice in the morning. I need to be out of here by 8:00 AM, so I must get this body to sleep. I am still sharing right?

Mae life fun, please. Even more, make life healthy fun, please.

And love each other, and show it, please.

It is your choice.

Narf :)

Revealing Relations or Revealations

Maybe... maybe I'm wrong... to go on writing... to sing my song... I should be sleeping. Instead, I ate more and loved every mouthful. I have a lot of babble bubbling around inside, but little energy in the body, so little, the brain is tired. Even with all the carbs and calories I just took in. Did I mention ice cream? Magnum double chocolate ice cream? Yes, I may have bought 1% chocolate milk in a healthier mood this week, but tonight it was seriously calorie rich. Meatloaf, lasagna, and ice cream. You should have been here. In fact, feel free to come on over cuz there's enough food for a week for me and TA is away this week.

Besides the yummies, I went to dinner just before I ate here. Chili's. It sucked. Often does. It's my least favorite chain restaurant (and I'm not a fan of chain restaurants). Low paid kids cooking and serving combined with cost cutting corporations make for a poor food experience. But it was a birthday. Tinman's daughter. So I showed up. I ordered the full rack of baby back ribs. When the order finally arrived, there were three ribs on a metal tray with fries and pale green asparagus and onion petals. I ordered the onion petals separately. I sent the dinner back after a brief conversation with the waiter. The conversation went something like this:

Me: Is this a full rack of ribs?
Waiter: Ummmm, that looks like a half rack.
Me: You are seriously telling me this is what Chili's calls a half rack?
Waiter: Ahhh, I guess so. I think a half rack has four ribs.
Me: There are three ribs here and I ordered a full rack.
Waiter: I'll bring you the other half.
Me: No, I won't pay $20 for six ribs, you can take it back.
(pause):
Waiter: Ummmm, ok.

No offer for anything other than "the other half" and no manager coming to ask if they can do anything to satisfy a customer who sent back the dinner. I should have taken a picture, but I didn't want the waiter to walk away as I would have been tempted to eat the food and then feel pissed off for paying for it. I suppose they take it in stride. Corporate American, the impersonal touch. So I ate the onion petals and partied with the birthday girl and waited until I got home to finish cooking the meatloaf and lasagna I started before I left. I left $5 onthe table which was a 40% tip and payment for the onion petals.

Meanwhile, yes, I had started cooking just before I left. Just at the heat up the oven stage, actually. I forgot about the birthday dinner and the phone did not remind me, even though it was on my calendar. I had just gotten home from work, put food in the oven, and Tinman texted me to remind me. I got there ten minutes late, but they were just being seated. Two booths, was at the other booth cuz the birthday booth was filled up. Eventually, a few more people came and sat with me. We bounced around the two booths the rest of the evening.

If we want more proof that my memory is overloaded, I texted Jane just before leaving work to let er know I could make it to the show tonight (she invited me earlier in the week). She texted back that she was tied up grading papers (she's a college professor, in case I have not mentioned that for a while), so we'll go next week and I was a happy camper heading home for much needed rest. Well, you know what happened next.

Anyway, I'm here now after yummy carbs and meat and fat and euphoria is rolling in. Life is good. Would love someone to share something meaningful, sensitive, and genuine, but life is good alone too. So what else is new?

This was pay week, so I checked the phone and the text message telling me the deposit went in also told me I am back to a comfortable level of poverty. The bank account is almost at the point where I can breath again, enough for current rent and food and gas and basics for more than a year at the current rate, and longer, maybe even two years, if I had to find a cheaper place and live more frugally. Easily three years, possibly four at the base frugality. What was at about Europe on $5 a day? Oh wait, that was a few years ago (aherm lol. Alas, he sad truth is that today, it is more like $5 an hour.

Maybe I'll get the elliptical, new computer, new TV, and other new toys in 2020.

Just randomly, I stumbled across what might be the most well intended but unbelievably wrong article on finances I've ever seen, maybe. Another random thought is how so many potentially good ideas failed. Specifically, things like the war n poverty and the war on drugs. We could say that going to war for any reason is stupid, and likely to fail producing any good results, but then, that's a lot of other subjects. My only point in this paragraph was to do a quick assessment of my current financial stability solely based on savings and I probably did that several lines ago. All in all, there is a good comfort zone for a couple of years. A whole lot longer, even. Sill, no permanent retirement forecast in this lifetime.

Meanwhile, considering living more economically reminded me about my younger years travelling around on a few dollars a day. I would probably love a life like this if I could share it, but I doubt I would want to do it for long alone. I suppose I could look for a potential partner. Could meet some curious souls and interesting people too. Upon reflection, especially self-reflection, maybe I've lived too long alone and have become too and set in my ways. More importantly, this body has a few hygiene needs that would be extremely challenging and potentially life-threatening now. Still, it turns me on.


Tomorrow is lunch with Helen and her mom, then dinner at Izzy's (her annual holiday white elephant gifts, games, and food party). That would be a better day with some sleep, since I've been skimping on sleep in recent weeks. The big work project drags on. So anyway, sleep would be good now. It is actually well past midnight and I've started nodding off, so I shall kick back right here in the recliner because my eyes are asking to close asap. Are you satisfied? Happy? Euphoric?

Hopefully you are all three and more smiles.

Make it so.

Narf :)

Maybe I'm A Maze

Waking slightly hungry because I did not pig out as much as usual last night and I took extra laxatives because of a ten pound bowel movement (estimated) a few days ago, doing my best to ignore the whining child (I really don't remember 9 year old kids behaviors, I suppose, but then, everyone develops at their own pace and extreme neediness comes at all ages), I sit here to scratch my brain a little and let words fall out. Not even fixing a hole, ya know?

I am still standing, and yes, better than I ever did. Awake too. Even during the somewhat sleepy mornings like this one. Even in the shared open floor plan home with the kids here passing through regularly. The temptation to shut down is great, but it doesn't work well for me (does it for anyone?) and so the influences of others, TA and his kids, are part of this lae morning babble. Some leftovers from last night shall join us as I wandered into the web and email before falling asleep last night (this entry was just beginning as my eyes asked to close).

And seeing a text from Helen about her mom's birthday next week, I tried to remember Helen's birthday and blanked, so i searched files and found old files with people's info, but no birthday for Helen. I did find a couple of email exchanges from 2009 between me and Jane and me and another friend, the latter I've not seen in at least a few years. Wow, how some things change and some remain the same. I could so easily be read as pathetic by anyone not understanding my sense of humor (and then again, from outside of my head, maybe I do actually appear pathetic... could I actually be pathetic?... should I await an answer?), laughter is not rude if no harm is intended... ah, all the missed opportunities and forgotten memories (are memories still memories if they are not remembered?... philosophy for another ramble).

Anyway, memories fill the room through sleepy eyes. I should jump into a shower as the body needs cleansing, but I'll sit here a few more minutes to throw last night's babbling into this entry because that's what I originally came to this entry to do last night. You may recall (so it may be a memory, right?0 that I wandered the web and found the sadness that people inspire, especially when news or conversations about religion or politics pass before my eyes.

Religions are killing off humanity, bringing the end the religious think they want, and politics is showing human madness (greed, fear, stupidity) better than ever these days and the news is basking in the divisive self-destructive obsession with drama and all the easy emotions that provide the highs that feed the addiction. There may be people who understand they can control those emotions, they can trigger the chemicals that provide the highs whenever they want and they don't have to blindly throw themselves at everything, and others, in the hope they will find the stimulus that triggers those chemicals. I just have not met those people. Most might consider it magic, or madness, or an egocentric delusion. They don't realize it is possible. They also don't realize euphoria triggers the best of those chemicals to bring the best of those highs. Choosing euphoria brings more than the highest highs, it brings the peace and security that allows awareness to expand beyond fear and all the stupidity fear brings with it.

Yeah so I went on a mini-rant and once again remembered why I do not watch news, wander the internet, or listen to people much these days. The ignorance astounds, the manipulations agitates and even angers, the stupidity and bias bring sadness. I don't want any of those negative emotions and I've about run out of desire to help anyone see beyond their small bubbles of fear and bias. We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.

Meanwhile, I went personal again this week and slide down the shute into the Toronto gardens in my mind. I looked over the Toronto blogs and found nothing new, as has been the case for many years now, and I felt like leaving some words, so this is what happened (I include the personal here, but only link the political, out of kindness and sanity).

Seven Year Itch?

That's supposed to tear people apart, not bring people back together. Maybe I'm amazed at the way I love without end, but its a real pain sometimes. Like when I realize people can't be trusted. You reminded me of that so well that I haven't really trusted anyone since. Except for a few. They screwed me too, but that's what I learned when I was left at he hospital and abandoned by all the others along the way. I wonder what would have happened if I stayed in NY, but I am so glad I didn't. I would not like myself if I became what I see in the pictures on Facebook. I mean, we've always know that I don't belong in this world, after all, and trying to fit in was as futile as it was dangerous.

There is plenty to catch up on, if you come around with the itch to want to care again. That's another difference between me and every one I've ever known. I am blessed and cursed with the stubbornness to choose to not let my caring end or even wane, and still I will not hide it. much to my detriment again and again. So dd I come here to complain? To lay a guilt trip on you? To see if you might have been hiding a word or two here (would be kind of perfect if you were caring in some online blog that I have not checked in years while I can caring in some online blog you haven't checked for years... perfectly cruel, being that I am alone and still, every now and then, longing to be known and cared about, but would it be irony?). No, I came here to see if you were here or in any of our blogs. The rest is gravy. You still enjoy the gravy, right? I mean, that's where the flavor is. :)

Still, I am happier than ever, even as I carry around the sadness of the self-destruction of humanity, being too hypersensitive for my own good. I tried shutting it down enough to fit in and for a while, it worked. I blinded myself to the duplicity in others again and again and that allowed me to trust more unconditionally than anyone I've ever known. We know how that turned out.

So why am I laughing?

Who knows better than you that it is because I live in the madhouse on the other side of the wall. lol lam yeah.

Well, I hope it doesn't disappoint you by I came here to see if you were here.

Hope you are well, have good memories, and a happy satisfied life.

You can find me here now.

Yeah, still, maybe I'm a maze.

Enough babbling for a night?

One of the questions at the top of an email thread from 2009 was am I really too strange to get close too?. I did not get an answer, but then, rarely do personal questions get taken seriously as people do not tend to get that close to me and most see me, or so they say as independent and all together, or something like that. needing nothing is a lonely way to be perceived, but then, it's reality. I want a lot. I need almost nothing. Survival for the body and input for the senses. I might even be fine without the input, but then, I've not lived most of this life without input. There were a few years I spent months at a time in a room not interacting with others for weeks on end and there are written records of those times in boxes in storage in New York, but I don't recall not enjoying it. In fact, I recall much euphoria and creativity running through me and pouring out of me during those years. Reading that stuff would be a real trip.

Are we there yet?

I think I shall shower and perhaps, after that eat something. I may do a load of laundry, but my plan for this afternoon is to relax around the house until about 5 when I head out to The Commodore's place for a game night. Long drive, but I have not seen them in so long, this will be a treat. And laundry is out as TA is gone, but he said he has kids clothes to do and the machine is often be tied up all weekend until I remind him to move the process along. I squeezed a big load in on Thursday, knowing the kids were coming.

Life in shared space is compromise. I'll stretch my clothes into another week somehow, or buy more new stuff. I have enough clothes to wear a different outfit every day for months, at least, largely because I don't do laundry weekly and sometimes a month will go by because I'm busy or the washer is tied up when I am not busy. First world problems, aye lol.

And now... ok, I won't sing My Way, but the core songs (still incomplete) are still as valid and true as ever for me. So we come to a semi-conclusion of a scattered entry, much of it my random personal whatever and some reflections of the world outside (scratchings on a chalkboard). It might be a day of memories, or maybe just vegetation in front of the TV. We shall see after the shower (you can see too if you want to call or come over). :)

Make your day all it can be, but most important, as you want it to be. Whether it is full of yesterday, today, tomorrow, or all and more are part of it, make it full of fun.

Narf :)

No Title Yet, Still

Yes, still, still wide awake at 4 am without a soul in sight. Still alive and kicking, though, unlike most other humans who feel too much. Oh? Robin, Karen, Harry, John, who is left to carry on, redundantly, to sing a song, going mad just to belong, feigning right to not be wrong, playing weakness to be strong, no wonder we don't stay long. No woman, no cry. To conquer death, you only have to die. What would a life be without always asking why? Imagine the high, above us only sky, to live each moment free of fear, you only have to try. One moment it becomes so easy, the moment you stop wondering why. Seriously, time, laughter is just another way to cry.

And it's alright to cry, crying lets emotions flow and grow and know they show. Love your emotions, let them go, that is what life's about - don't tell me you didn't know, don't tell me you forgot, like everybody else, because I already know. Ah, the sweet meaninglessness of it all, if you only embraced it as I do, you might stop being so afraid and remember.

So many choices, and you choose yours. Peace and love, hate and wars, so many choices, you choose yours, heart and mind, walls and doors, so many choices, you choose yours.

Love is the opening door, fear is the way to war, you choose what you are here for, some play the game, some, just keep score. Which side are you on, child...

Is there anybody going to listen to my story... well, this isn't it, but I have no idea why (should I wonder? lol) this entry gets so many comments. I realize there is a high probability that most are SPAM or BOTS, but hey, a kid can dream, right?

Fool afraid to say hello because they learned to say... goodbye. Never say goodbye.

What, me worry? lolol...

Still hanging on, never give up, never surrender, love never ends, so the dream of loving and being loved never ends.

What are you here for?

Narf :)

319, 185, 126, 30?

Holy shit, the babbler is dying. Just look at the numbers. We used to average at least a thousand entries a year. Back when the writing began, three rhymes a day minimum was the norm and that was just the rhymes, the other writings, letters, prose, scribbles, and other pages/posts (as paper pages gave way to internet posts over the years) were in addition to the minimum 3 rhymes per day. Now, I hardly rhyme. Ever since Toronto, the river of rhymes have diminished to a point where today, the flow has all but dried out. Now, looking at this blog over four year, the babbler is fading as well. Maybe that is one reason I hang on to the last vestige of hope for bonding with another human, the last time I trusted someone, as farcicle as it was (delusional sharing is not sharing, after all, and the truth is it was a one way sharing from the start with me giving almost all and getting scraps of crumbs when I begged for them). Hope allows for such delusions to exist and persist in the void of any real sharing, caring, or love.

Wow, seriously. Please don't explode, I won't really be serious. That could hurt a lot of people. Humans are just not ready, but that's another >story. Even the brief daily, the compromise for the attention I seek on the web, the hope that writing shorter entries might bring back readers who tired of the meandering babbles, that never actually worked, has diminished to a stagger and is no longer daily. Again, the numbers do not lie (shudder). 268, 222, 587, 238?...

Number 9, number 9... you say you want what?... So we face the facts, gallows they may be, the brief daily is almost as dry, considering it is the daily. Food has been a dominating subject, even though the food blog has gone silent, dormant, inedible. The silence in body blog reflects how poorly I am caring for the body and how little thought I am giving that. Personal assessment, apathy and self-destruction. So human, so what? S I've succeeded in my cause, my endeavor, my mission to become human like everybody else. Ignorant, so where is the bliss?

Don't you remember? Weren't you there on Diaryland? I mean, Diaryland? All those years ago... Not the first, far from the first, but it was a new beginning. Where you there when the first blogger blog started here? Blogger? Yes, I know it was decades after the first writings in those scattered pages in boxes in storage near Niagara Falls (slowly we turn), but we're trying to make a point about history here. The early years (online "somewhere" below, sort of, yes I now I was online two decades before the first Blogger, shut up and pay attention and give reverence to this historical paragraph), when babble was king. Before we tried to conform to brevity. Even before the babbled there was . and the first public diary entry:

entering diaryland

so this is diaryland... why am I here?... do I want attention?... after years of writing a journal of sorts on my website in which I call out for attention, that seems like a foolish question... and yet, if I really want more attention, why didn't I create a more public journal or diary like this before?... shy?... timid?... vulnerable?... complicated?... as if you have answers...

dear readers (should you find these words)... I am here to share words... may you find some worth in the time you spend reading... may you find even more worth in the content (and may I find content with which we can both be content one day... actually, I'd prefer touched, moved, inspired, excited, ecstatic, even intrigued to content... adored would be good too)...

does it work?

and it flowed from there into love (long lost illusions, now, but as real as ever, maybe lol, one never knows, do we?... it just gets deeper if you only knew, but this parentheses contains a whole other world that reminds me how easy it is to forget and remember and we'll return you now to our regularly scheduled babble) into the rhymes. As you may have noticed, I mention I was babbling on my website for years, deleted by the greedy free web corporations, but not completely lost, though that link might get you lost (the past if a fickle mistress to try to get through), but you can reach farther back to the beginning of the first online blog or even earlier in my friend searches and even find snips of the first writings I did in life, somewhere.

Meanwhile, out in the world, men continue to control women's bodies People controlling other people is the way of humanity. Forcing others to do what you want them to do is the primary purpose of religion. Conformity, obedience, authority rule by any means necessary, that is the human being's belief system. The limits of the human mind lead people to believe this is the only way to insure peace. Yet, with heads firmly planted in the sand (or up our asses), we refuse to accept that it has been a complete failure. Ignore the constant drums of war that insure nothing but self-destruction and leave it to nature to decide if any sentient beings will be around to explain the stupidity of humanity, once humanity is gone.

See why I spend most of my babbling time focused on the mundane details, the ridiculous drama, and the finite dirt in my immediate environment? Why waste my time pondering a species determined to destroy everything when they ignore anything that might stop them.


Not done yet... I mean, I could have written just this:

Mostly, I ramble.

Like this, sometimes. Other times, like that, whatever that is. I like letting my mind wander relatively anywhere and appearing like a blithering idiot scribbling meaningless babble without rhyme nor reason, but somewhere in there is so much profound sensitivity and love, it will burn anything it touches. Human brain cells are just not ready for what goes on in my head. Human beings are just not ready for me, so I play at being a fool, fat blubbering dodo, so they all ignore me. That way I don't have to actually conform and interact, which requires conformity. See how mundane and dull I can be when and whenever? Poof, and I'm gone.

Still, I so wish someone could handle my madness. That's not me, by the way, it's one of the others I call mine from time to time. Look it up.

I'll stop now, hoping this is not already too much, like below. Below was good though, wasn't it? You'll just have to look that up too.

Thanks for caring. hl, me

...but you're not Jackson, after all, so I don't even try to be brief. I even added to the above the amuse and confuse. never brever... t. Except in the brief daily, which is elsewhere. Never give up, never surrender, (e)thereal! I have no idea why this entry gets so many comments. I realize there is a high probability that most are SPAM or BOTS, but hey, a kid can dream, right?




This is not finished, so... tune in again another day for more...

Don't Let The Laughter Fool You

Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha.

Or even more, the non-laughter. Anti-laughter? Dirt, drama, and details. Promotional materials not withstanding. I wonder what your bottom feels like, your buns, your cheeks, and would you want me to know? What if I told you that I cringe with I feel flabbiness and experience nausea when I feel fat? Still want me to know. That eliminated 98% of you, no doubt. It is all part of the plan, after all, because I will only want one of you when I find you. All I ever needed, after all, again, the one. I wish no one any harm, especially not me. Dishonesty harms me.

Fear hides in lies, and vice versa. I wish everyone was honest, even if what is said is not what I want to hear, honesty is so much better than anything else. Why anyone would call honesty anything but the best thing that we could possibly do is something I do not understand. I am certain enough of this truth that I may appear arrogant or worse in some eyes, or minds, but I only ask for truth from this world. I don't want anything else.

The one understands and agrees.

And that is all I need.

Wanting something so much that it can be considered a need, which may be the greatest illusion of all, is a rarity for me. Proliferous preposterousness. Can you believe it? What is true is what you believe to be true, after all. Didn't you know? Well, believe it or not, it is true. And just when you think you've been overwhelmed by contradiction, you can find peace inside. You can find anything inside, if you want it. You just have to want it enough, more than anything else, and choose not to let anything get in the way.

Who will be there when I die
When this body gives up on life
when I withdraw so deep inside
that breathing stops

Who can be gentle enough
to dismantle all the walls
and return to the peak of life
when breathing starts

Who can be so free
to share honesty
before fear shut down
curiosity

Who can be so real
to expose all you feel
holding back nothing
is that too ideal?

Why are we alive, anyway?
What matters the most, can you say?
Is it all just one more game to play?
From the first up to the final day?

Who will share unconditional trust
just one more time?
Who can share the words
and be my rhyme?
You could listen and still not hear. You could look and still not see. You could go back to the almost beginning. And still not know how to find me. Maybe.

Ha ha ha ha ha. Remember? You just need to know where to look, and how to see.

lol The eyes have it.

Honesty.

Narf :)

Plans Are for Sissies

I find plans are so often changed that I learned a long time ago to not care much about plans. I do my best to remember them and meet others when we schedule time together but suddenly changing plans do not upset my equilibrium nearly as much as they seem to do for others. Living in the moment has always been my way, even when the moment might be seriously nostalgic (and lots of moments are) or exploring dreams of tomorrows. I learned how to roll with the flow, adapt to sudden changes, and enjoy the spontaneity of life and usually actually look forward to it. I even love getting lost and finding my way back to wherever I intended to go by exploring different paths. So while I am teasing myself and planners in the title, I laugh at the folly of plans when plans don't quite go according to, well, plans.

Two days ago TA said he was glad the kids were not here this week because both have colds. They seem to be sick a few times a year, especially the little one. So I wake up, head in the bathroom for a shower, and before I start I hear her coughing and calling for daddy. Her cough sounds like a whooping-cough an she doesn't cover her mouth, even when standing in front of the open fridge, so no cooking for me while she's here, no using the kitchen, guess who starts a weekend fast right now? And I bought all this food in the fridge that doesn't need cooking. May be garbage now. Alas, living with kids more than I planned, but I still love the space. If she spent more time out of the kitchen central to the place, it might not be so intrusive, but that's her favorite room and it's usually a mess because she doesn't clean up behind herself, makes goop, slime, and other sticky stuff, and leaves her stuff everywhere. She's sitting in the kitchen coughing now. TA just coughed too. She sleeps in his bed, so he'll be sick too soon, f he isn't already. Parents need rest and boundaries too, but that's life with kids, not much of either.

This was not supposed to be a kids weekend and that, combined with the cold germs flying through the air, and my filter-less wake-up babbling process, bring this entry to the fold. Not complaining, processing, in case you jut read the words and don't care to know the deeper reasons and meanings. Empathy is now winning out, as usual, as is my nurturing core, so I'll encourage her to stay here and rest if TA wants that. He said she's just here for the morning cuz her mom is working today. I mean, I don't want to be sick and I've noticed this body kicking the immune system into gear after they spent Wednesday night here, but caring and nurturing is in my nature and even tough I have learned to stop doing it as actively as I used to, out of respect for others as much as out of protection for myself, I still love the giving of time, energy, and space of caring for others. That was my profession for most of this life, after all. I miss the cuddling, the intimacy, the trust, and the gift of giving all of my sensitivity and attention and self to a therapeutic interaction, but I am at a stage in life where I want to separate from humanity more than I have in the past. Maybe it is preparing for death. People do not handle that well, after all.

So anyway, I woke up rested and bubbly, which is why I a writing and not brooding over the recently rising loneliness and lack of privacy, and this bit of babble has be bubbling again. I intend to withdraw into my world and write more and finish laundry (though TA already threw a load in so I'll start again after he's done because I left my work pants in the dryer and they may need to be washed again to get wrinkles out. They spent two hours in the dryer last night and the load was still not dried well. I don't think the dryer is circulating air. It gets hot, so clothes bake instead of drying. That is one reason I only wear five pairs of pants, one for each work day, and leave all the others in the closet. They are getting worn out in his washer and dryer and I don't want that to happen to the rest of my clothes. Shirts are starting to show the wear too. Underwear doesn't last more than a half dozen wash/dry cycles. Clothes aren't made to be steam-baked lol. I miss my washer/dryer.

So what else is new? Busy busy busy work these days, haven't gotten out to the parks and inspections in several weeks, at least. The other departments and contractors have dragged their feet and are way behind the ETAs they scheduled, so the County Manager's office (CMO) and Commissioners are asking why they don't see progress on the project and my boss, who is Project Manager, is going to be on the hot seat Monday when he meets with the Deputy County Manager to explain the delays. Unfortunately, poor planning from the start, bringing key players in way too late, and very unreliable other managers have put him behind an eight ball and he does not have time to crack a whip on every step of every detail every single day, but that is what is needed on this one. So I basically took the role of project manager this week and I've been pushing for answers from others who are behind on their schedules. They are lucky I am only CCing my boss, because if the CMO saw my questions and their lack of answers (or excuses), they might not have jobs or contracts. If I was in charge, we'd be replacing at least one high level manager and we'd be looking for other contractors.

Around the house, beyond this mornings surprises and the usual whatever, the kitchen didn't stay clean and tidy for long as the clutter, crumbs, stickies, and other debris returned to the counters within a day or two. The sink remains full of dishes and the clean stuff in the dishwasher remains in the dishwasher. Eventually, I'll get tired of the mess and fill the dishwasher again, usually emptying it before I do, but sometimes... well, the rebel child remains active in my brain lol. I keep a small portion of counter clean for my food prep and cooking and leave the stuff from last weekend's tacos TA cooked up for hi and the kids and the rest as it is. Not as big a deal as it might have been for me when I was younger, I've accepted people and their habits when sharing space and work around any untidiness that comes with. He did get the garbage out Thursday, which is good because it was a week's worth as Monday was a holiday and I slept through the morning.

My cluttered unpacking process remains a mess in my living sauces, but there's no food for bugs or germs in my stuff. I may unpack a few more garage boxes today, or at least bring a few more into the living room where they have a better chance of being unpacked, being right under my nose lol. Did I give the impression I was some sort of neat freak in the previous paragraph (or ever, for that matter)? lam, oh just roll with the babbling dissatisfaction with the imperfections of life and forget them as quickly as I do and you'll not only live a much happier, less stressed life, but you may even come to some bit of understanding me one of these days.

Writing and revealing continues even though I don't mention it much.

I watched The World According to Jeff Goldblum and still would have liked him as a friend, but worse, I want ice cream now. Not his flavor though, way too too green I think, even if I was curious about the flower's taste. Lunch was a meatloaf sandwich on onion roll with chocolate milk. I think I am going to turn on the new Captain America with what's her name now while I either vege or look through some boxes or both. I do miss sharing dinners out with friends, but I do enjoy watching my bank account rise, so incentive to initiate spending money is at a low ebb these days. Any wonder why the loneliness is on the rise? I suppose I should masturbate, or something like that. Always better when not planned, ya know?

So what's your Saturday turning out to be?

Hope it's fun too :)

Narf :)

Almost Babbling

It's only words

This is not done, but it's here anyway...

Anyway, awake, I wrote some more bits in the previous blog (which is designed to never end, like most everything I write, cuz the end is only the end if you believe in endings... did you ever noticed that we are defined as much, if not more by what we don't believe in than what we do believe in?... believe me, it's a cofugation (or confutation, depending on perspective), at least, sometimes a conundrum, even), and finally uploaded Zis, which should be an celebration celebrated by celebrities and us plain folk alike more often than annually, so feel free to join in today and sing along... Happy Birthday to Z, Happy Birthday to Z, Happy Birthday Dear Z0tl, Happy Birthday to you! Exclaim it, even.

Motivation to rearrange (and clean a bit) the space soared this morning and the garage is redesigned to accommodate a lot more open space and stuff. I've been bouncy bouncy for at least a couple of hours, maybe longer. Do you keep track of time on weekends? All those calories from last night are burning through my system (and I do mean burning... especially the buffalo wings and the Nashville hot wings, which were the best of the three types of KFC wings I tried last night. Yes, binge eating happened, as you might be able to tell if I ever upload the previous entry lol. Some people get heartburn, but I am one of the lucky ones with a cast iron stomach and I can hardly remember ever getting heartburn in this life (must have a strong lower esophageal sphincter. I do occasionally feel assburn though. Obviously you were just dying to know, and naturally I don't want you to die, so you're welcome.

This could have been a contender, but I stepped away for a while and future entries may explain why, but much was done. You should have been here, cuz then you'd already know and even more would have gotten done, and fun.

Enjoy life, in spite of the madness.


This morning, my alarm woke me. After I his snooze for the third or fourth time, I remembered it may be a holiday and I checked the internet and sure enough, my offices are closed today. I went to the bathroom, drank some water, and fell asleep for another three hours. Such sweet sleep, the extra three hours. Maybe I should get a holiday calendar, or at least check my phone calendar, before I turn on my alarm, aye? I fell asleep in the recliner though, so when I crawled into bed about 3 AM, I wasn't checking anything but the pillows lol.

The wonderful feeling of sleeping in, the extra three hours of sleep, the feeling of extra time to do anything I please today (except shop for that dang elliptical, cuz stores are closed, I think lol). instead of writing, though, which I was excited about a little while ago, I turned on the TV and indulged some mindless observation of humans acting out the human delusions that dominate most human lives. Te deeper layer of irony (or planning) to cast a very multicultural cast with black leads adds curiosity, especially since there has not been much, if any, racial references that usually accompany shows with black leads. I wonder if they did that on purpose. Maybe the most attractive connection for the show is the lead female's body (eye candy is usually why I choose to watch a show more than once, given the lack of originality or interesting writing on TV), but the Brooklyn pizza has to be tugging on my subconscious. Yes, the foodie is that dominant, pizza is that important, and the personal memory of the best foodie experiences I've ever known is the biggest draw. I truly do not believe I want to move back there, but I definitely had a much much bigger and more rewarding social life, bigger financial success (and potential), more autonomy and responsibility in my profession, and the sense that there was a lot more intelligence around me, especially professionally (but also socially... or maybe it was the commonalities in the school system so many of the people living there shared and not any better actual education, maybe, but the awareness and social conscience and atmosphere of NYC is not like any anywhere in the world and I've always missed it), and deeper stuff too.

See what I mean? A little extra sleep. I'll stop there for now, at least here in this brief blog, just to be irreverent, casual, cavalier, snarky, flippant, or shifts and giggles, or something like that.

Ok, so a comment on a previous post mentioned following me here in this blog and that lead me to wonder who follows me and I had to google how to see who follows a blog and found that one person follows this blog, a person who has been around in the periphery of the blog world as I know it since the diaryland days, almost twenty years ago, so this comment may not be as valid, real, or true as it claims. I'll take the praise anyway lol. Wondering about the one follower lead me to look up the name on google and I found the diaryland account, not closed and locked and if I ever had the password, it's on a computer long dead, so no access there. Google then lead me to a Twitter . . . Youtube (which was updated yesterday, so maybe she will see I subscribed to her channel and maybe the video she posted yesterday will help someone, but you know me, I don't like listening to know-it-all types, sales pitches, preachers, or delusions (outside of therapy), especially when they shout, so I turned it off after less than a minute... after a short video that I added to my "random like why?" and then, after three ridiculously long commercials that I couldn't skip passed, which is very odd and got me thinking Youtube didn't want me to watch the video and oridinarilly, I might have skipped it {if I didn't have nothing to do today on my extra day off}, I watched this video and I applauded and you should too (and it leads to a whole new world for most people, but that's a whole 'nother entry, or book, for that matter. Call it profound or whatever, and if you are offended, I pity your limited mind and hope you open yourself to ideas that scare you before you destroy the world... anyway, that was followed by a video showing 8 bread recipes and a video that had me asking {with laughter and meaning no disrespect} who is this guy and why am I watching?, which lead me to further ponder if my "favorites" list would be as eclectic as hers and whether t would reperesent me at all in the first five or en videos, which is another long entry that may never be written, but... so we never know where these tangents will take us, aye?) DeviantArt and bandcamp and goggle images (which may not be connected at all, given google's algorithms are largely ad-based and therefor skewed like every other corporate search engine out there... I miss the internet when it was not corporate owned) and more and I may explore some if this laptop can handle it. Anyway, She remains a mystery to me for the moment, dear Beth from Canada, and I shall forever be grateful for the sense of continuity her following me for twenty years through many blog changes brings to my mind. And then it lead me to this, which is my latest new page on the internet. Amazing, no doubt.

Meanwhile, to the many Anonymouses leaving comments all over my blogs, thank you too. I wonder if any of you are real, which can lessen the impact of your comments, but I still also wonder if you've been around, if you are real, and what you really think. Who are you now, first anonymous of mine lol.

But the really exciting news is all that lead me to my email (which still gets opened and checked only occasionally for various odd reasons like this one today) and I found joyousness in the brief words from my old friend cuz those words told me the body still breathed and I am so very happy he is still alive, no matter how sad he may be. Feeling dead? Call me. I might not be able to afford airfare to visit, but I'll send love any way I can.

There was more, like an email simply saying hello from this meetup profile and after I approved the friend request, a message came and FB locked the contents for violating their rules. I posted a few things toone of my pages, but the I semi-lost interest after that cuz what's going to compare with hearing from a dear old friend, right? I wandered off into life offline, moved some stuff around, showered, cleaned the kitchen, then TA got home and we chated while I pondered dinner. With defrosted fish, liver, and other stuff in the fridge, I abandoned the internet and this amazing blog.



Narf :)

So Sweet, It's Bitter

Talking ‘bout Stevia, that plant-based extract of potent sweetness. Who decides what is sweet, anyway? I mean, who’s taste buds? Is there a universal definition for sweetness? Empirically measurable physical characteristics? Aren’t human perceptions subjective and therefore challenging to measure precisely, not less exactly? Can you say without certain that your eyes perceive exactly what my ees perceive, cone by cone, rod by rod, synapse by synapse, receptor by receptor, cell by cell? Whats important is how we interpret our sense, not precisely what they tell our brains, but that may be another trail of thought.

Sweetness, like beauty or anything, just may be in the eye, or in this case, tongue of the beholder. Certainly let’s not forget the brain, where everything perceived by our senses is processed, interpreted, combined with everything else, including our imagination, and given some sort of explanation so it can be understood. How unique is each brain? I don't mean in physical characteristics, I mean in cognitive functioning. Think well ever map every cell and synapse and then be able to measure whatever is going on in each precisely? And then, who decides how to perceive what we discover? An endless loop of questions seems to be a very likely outcome. Will we ever know everything? And would knowing everything be as sweet as we might imagine? Yes, so we come back around to what may be an arbitrary (and perhaps scientifically unanswerable) largely philosophical question, what is sweet?

Sure, we can give names to body parts and discover how the physical processes and biochemistry works, but can we define the concept of sweetness? We go to the internet to see what people have said about this. Wikipedia tells us that there is something called sweetness science which lead s to a sweetness scale (which reminds me of the hotness scale, but that's another story that reminds me to stop at the post office tomorrow to pick up some hot sauces I ordered... hopefully I'll remember to remember tomorrow, aye?), which may have some validity, but only if one tests it out on themself to merge the collective subjective with the individual subjective experience of senses. My tongue isn't your tongue, after all, or brain or experience or preferences or so on.

There are lesson plans for teachers that take the subjectivity to a whole new level, maybe that's how creationsts feel about teaching evolution. but I'm only guessing because I ave no clue what forms those delusions. The LA Times ran an article about the sweetness of artificial sweeteners when we look for news about sweetness. Does anybody expect long term use of lab-created chemicals to trick our brain to turn out well? Especially since profit motive is the primary guiding force behind the creation of these chemicals, for me, it's just one more suicidal decision in a long line of suicidal decisions we humans make all the time. On that note, I refer you to sweetness for dummies and trivia,which may be all we can really do about answering this question, keep it simple and try to have some fun with it.

Anyway, all this came about because I dropped too much stevia into a drink and it was so sweet, it seemed bitter. To my taste perception, at least. Yes, accidental overdose of a plant-based sweetener brought on this babble. Hope it was worth your time, or amusing, even.

Entertainment can be sweet when it inspires a smile.

Narf :)


Naturally we find a range from hard scientific papers to tongue-in-cheek trivia designed for amusement more than education and the almost obligatory for dummies offerings when we google ”what is sweet?“ ”what is sweetness?” and “are there Empirically measurable physical characteristics for sweetness?”



The scale presents an interesting dilemma. First, we must accept (on faith and collective agreement, I suppose), that Sucrose is the standard of whatever sweetness might be and then. We see that somehow, other sugars have a defined relationship to sucrose. How that relationship is actually measured and defined may be in the hard science, but for this exploration, I’ll just toss in the links for future further reference and study.



Sweetness of various compounds[a][15][16][17][18][19]

Name

Type of compound

Sweetness

Lactose

Disaccharide

0.16

Maltose

Disaccharide

0.33 – 0.45

Sorbitol

Polyalcohol

0.6

Glucose

Monosaccharide

0.74 – 0.8

Sucrose

Disaccharide

1.00 (reference)

Fructose

Monosaccharide

1.17 – 1.75

Sodium cyclamate

Sulfonate

26

Steviol glycoside

Glycoside

40 – 300

Aspartame

Dipeptide methyl ester

180 – 250

Acesulfame potassium

Oxathiazinone dioxide

200

Sodium saccharin

Sulfonyl compound

300 – 675

Sucralose

Modified Disaccharide

600

Thaumatin

Protein

2000

Lugduname

Guanidine compound

300,000 (estimated)



So all this comes from a sip of about ten ounces of coffee that had three Stevia packets dropped into it. Next time, I’ll try just one packet. Lol.

Wrttten Words

Communicating through written words allows for so much self-reflection, introspective, and creative play. The imagination can roam freely and still feel connected to someone who is on the other end of the words, the reader, even if the reader does not respond, there is a connection. Two who love communicating through written words can inspire explosions of the stuff, written words, reflection, play, anything and everything that can be expressed in language and beyond, the graphic stroke of pen, or even brush, to paper, or canvas, or any medium. From prose to poetry to drawing to painting to graffiti on walls, cave drawings started it all... and here we are, refined to letters, 26 in this language, and lots of symbols (if we only remember the key strokes to make them, aye? :) lol).

Meanwhile, did I do this or that? If I recall, there were comments left, SPAM, mostly, but I finally looked through them and published the ones that were not linked to some sort of sales or suspicious page. Both entries are from the years back, one from 2015 and the other from 2011, apparently selected randomly or through some algorithm by some comment-spam-bot, but hey, they were visited more than 150 times each in the past month according to google, largely from Germany, so maybe they have some value to some. Feel free to let me know.

I used to look at the stats for the previous daily more often because it got lots of views. For a while it was getting a few thousand a month. The U.S. provided most views, with Russian, Ukraine, and Romania jousting for second. China had a lot for a while, but they've all but disappeared in recent years. I wonder if their censorship blocked me. As if my babbling could be some threat to national security or something, aye? I mean, just because I am a perverse purveyor of pompous pandering and illegitimate alliteration doesn't hurt nobody, does it? Maybe it's cuz I'm an alien

Anyway, the 2015 entry, 42, which climbed into 10th place overall in page views (such an arbitrary ranking, given the comment-spam-bots), might have attracted some Dr. Who fans. Anyway, looking at the stats gives the fragile ego some sense of being loved, even if it all just in my imagination. more than 125,000 page views over in the last daily, and still counting. A ridiculously small number, really, for a blog that's been around more than 10 years, and considering thousands come from sites like vampirestat, but we draw what we need from things, in large part, by choosing the perspective that gives us what we need. If we try sometimes, ya know? :)

I'm in a wonderfully calm and happy mood this morning, perhaps actually glad the kids are in the house (in spite of the restrictions, because it gives me the excuse to just sit here and not clean up or do anything. It's a school night and they need their sleep, right? I do need to get more exercise though. I wonder how much noise an elliptical would make. Probably too much and I'd be pissed if I was ready to get on it and didn't exercise because I didn't want to wake them. I do need to cut back on calories again. This body's metabolism is so slow, it can survive on 500 calories a day most days. All that meditating and exercise I did in it's wayward youth, no doubt. Or maybe it was the drugs lol.

I miss you.
dear friend of the written word
do you write anymore?
was it all just for the birds
or for the store?
Maybe you were just practicing with me

We use to correspond almost every day
you'd tell me all about your life
and I'd share mine, in words we'd play
it did not matter that we never met
or that you lived far away
we cared and showed it through the words
we'd write... so secure we'd stay
in touch, dear fried
where are you today?

I miss you.
purveyor of prose and rhyme
do you write anymore?
was it just a way to pass the time
or something more?
Maybe you are just forgetting about me
(maybe you just forgot about me)

In case you ever wondered
I really cared about you
I meant the words I wrote
to be real and true

In case it still matters
I am lonely without you
I wish we could share words again
(I wonder if you do too)
so I'm writing to you

because
I miss you.
wayward long lost friend
do you write anymore?
did you somehow get lost out there
or are you gone?
life moved on
Still, maybe you still sometimes think of me
and would like to know
I miss you

I still care about you
and
I miss you

And I wonder if you do too. Chopped up meter, rhythm, and rhyme, almost intentional, as the communication has broken down, as is the seas upon which the words used to flow are too choppy to allow connections. Maybe you understand. Maybe you remember.

Maybe you'll respond.

Rolling up on 6:00 AM, wondering what to do now. Sleep another hour? The eyes tell me they could use it, still cloudy and heavier than ideal. Shower and go out to work early?

Buzzes off to sleep and returned the next night... Tired wired, the worst kind lol. Too much Halloween candy. Listening to music, a random list of videos I put together years ago. Onlt the first five or so are in order as they represent me on Youtube, or something like that. Unfortunately, over the years, some of the videos were taken down or went private or got blocked. Feel free to listen and let me know what you think, though I have no idea what comes after the first ten or fifteen videos lol. Yes, I still miss the mix tapes lost somewhere in Toronto. Cold cold heart, that girl from Toronto. My life was music and she kept it. Couldn't get the first song, but got the second one in spite of it all.

Another long day at the desk, still working on the major projects and feeding the boss what he needs to look good. I planned on drinking four of five or even six protein shakes today and not eating anything, but shrimp and soup called me for dinner and then, Kit Kats stuffed themselves into my mouth. I was helpless, they were just too strong and overpowered my will and I couldn't even call out for help because, well, they kept stuffing themselves in my mouth.

Yeah, you get the visual.

TA and I sat outside giving out candy until it ran out. Except for the Kit Kats. Hundreds of kids poured by the house and all the neighbors were outside, but there were so many kids, there was no time to walk over and talk to anyone. The neighbors next door have Halloween videos on projected on to their garage door. It was cool, the kids loved it. TA's kids were with their mom, so we don't know how they did tonight. We came in when the candy ran out and as usual, TA is in his bedroom. Texted Jackson and she and Brandi gave out candy too. I'm lonely.

My choice though. I could call people and they'd have me over in a minute, but I am comfortable a home and don't want to go anywhere. The second song, so uch so, that even when I'm lonely, I'm happier at home by myself than I am somewhere else. Still, third song, I'm still dreaming and fourth song, I'm still believing and fifth song, I keep waving lol. Who really gets it? There is hope in hope itself, sixth song. So much me, so much I love Dia, and Meg, and that perspective. Sixth song, blocked, is John Lennon's Love...

Must find another version to put there.

You'll just have to go listen to learn about me if you want to know. I've never met anyone who actually actualizes it all, lives it, breathes it, gives it, and receives it. It scares everyone away when it gets too real. Seventh song (sixth that actually plays until I replace the block sixth... musically ironic, a blocked sixth, if you follow), all I've ever needed. The first dozen or so, with three missing, that's me deep down, and after that I have fun with the words and music. Some are deeper into me and some are playful kind of dare you to ask and some are just there for the fun or sound of it. But the first dozen or so, then selected others...

The written words, when put to music, can say it all. There I am, in case it matters.


Did you ever really know?

Narf :)

Misunderstood Hummus

Speaking of misunderstood humor (see the comments too), the genius with the penis is a fungus among us while the genius with no penis is a mustard custard. Pickles and donuts make strange bedfellows. Don't go tellin' on the melon.

What are you talking about, said one fly to the other? We can't let a zipper come between us. We must revolt, rise up and stand tall against the barriers that keep us apart. Rub out any doubt of resistances, fear no friction, emerge from the darkness and come forth into the light with everything you've got. Innocent lust is really trust, the most precious gift of all. Burst into each other with the passion of children finding magic for the first time.

And in the end... the love you save... is equal to the love... you gave...

A few who might understand, somewhere...             What melon?

Today was a day like any other day, except it hasn't happened yet. Overnight, a vision came to me, and I slept on it, comfortably, peacefully, wonderfully. Maybe it was listening to the singer above last night, or memories of peaches on beaches, or reading green eggs and lox by rabbi seuss, or one fish, two fish, red fish, jew fish, gefilte fish, also by rabbi seuss.

Please continue. I have almost given up on being completely understood in this life, in spite of being the simplest person I know. Perhaps it is all the layers of mazes I surround myself with without even trying. The perils of genius in this society include death and irrelevance. I'd choose the latter, given a choice. That way nobody would ever know unless they came very close and listened very hard, in word you might get what you came for. Does it lead to wonder for you too? If not, it's ok, most people try very hard to be like everybody else even as they claim uniqueness and they craving to belong and conform overwhelms any notion of true freedom even as the tell themselves they fight for independence.

Perhaps it was the Cheetos diet.

As Lenny Bruce ever said, intelligence is the opiate of the masses, which would have been quite wrong, if he did, but George Carlin was the genius of our times, and noone replaced him, yet. Harry Chapin, John Denver, a little Bob Marley, and a lot of John Lennon, recognizing genius in a sunflower and humanity in a field of poppies, while the rest of us have grown fat and lazy, living in lands of make-believe trying no to let it show, delusions for the win and everybody loses, the voices of reasons have all be shot or otherwise eliminated. Might as well jump off the Golden Gate and let the sea take us to a better place, or the Verrazano, for that matter, as if such a better place exists. Somewhere, somehow, somewhere...

Madness is just another way of enjoying life in this world. No wait, seriously, just look at this! Yeah, there used to be comments. I choose madness of the harmless variety, being of the fat and lazy clan, there is the luxury of time for distraction and folly, as it allows relative freedom of movement among the normals without much detection. As depression fucks us up the ass, not in a gay way, but as used and discarded trash, sensitivity dies before we do, is it any wonder we are fixated by zombie stories? Happy Halloween, you filthy animal.

More Cheetos (thought not just those, Palmetto cheese, mayo, and ff turkey sandwich and shrimp rolls with extra shrimps and sweet potato chips and chocolate milk and chocolate mousse and... did I mentions I've been exceptionally suicidal lately? Send in the clowns for an intervention. I want more chocolate milk, but the store just closed and I don't feel like driving further and so, water. The mouth wants stimulation and there's no one around to kiss, so food is the stimulation for tonight. I wouldn't kiss most people anyway, too many cooties. Even people without cooties who make my libido drool would have to spend time with me to prove they don't have the cooties. It you're not laughing, you probably have cooties.

There is altogether not enough inappropriate laughter in this world today. In fact, there are signs that I have given up on this life more and more. Not going to the gym, not buying the elliptical, not keeping the weight under 180, and letting the body get old... ooooo, so serious (and that last link was for the blind lazy fools without time or too cool,you know, the ones who don't click on the links within the links within the links, and so on, down down down, where your dreams are found,or something like that). Pass the Cheetos. But no one takes me seriously anymore, and I'm almost never serious because my seriousness scares people away, always has, because it is too real for human beings at this point in their development.

Humors Humours, or Humans?

Some titles lead to nowhere, sometimes, and sometimes, the genius is obscured by the words. Chose carefully as you wander into the breach, as the edge of the abyss is only your friend if you let love rise above fear and trust the universal nothingness to bring you home. Imaginary neverland of eternal bliss, a left at Albuquerque, and exit, stage left. You know, heaven's to mergatroid was never like this. Left to wonder, is she me? Or is she someone I used to be? Carelessly left adrift upon the cyber sea, laughing at the mystery of what was and what could be, if only you'd say, if only you'd see, oh say... can you? See?

So long ago, so far away, I just to laugh, while other'd play. Calvin said it well: Calvin: Why isn’t my life like a situation comedy? Why don’t I have a bunch of friends with nothing better to do but drop by and instigate wacky adventures? Why aren’t my conversations peppered with spontaneous witticisms? Why don’t my friends demonstrate heartfelt concern for my well-being when I have problems?… I gotta get my life some writers.

Or even better,

Is loneliness is pretense of those who stay hidden?

Speaking of misunderstood humor (did we rinse and repeat?), I have almost given up on being completely understood in this life (maybe, but it's good to be clean, no?), but then, sometimes reality is more than lament, sometimes it is just real. It is all a matter of perspective, after all.

So I wonder, did you just hack me for some reason?

To all the hackers I've never known (or girls I've never loved before)... Where are you now? Boredom? Curiosity? Did you want to know something? Why not just ask? (too easy... or too scary?). Would you rather waste time alone in your room? Is it too comfortably numb to leave, even virtually? Are your interactions only superficial, professional, or commercial? Listen to this (I am not Mr. Ed),if you dare. No, silly fool, you can't access my webcam, unless I want you to If I let you, you'd find out that I too am one of the paranoid who put a bandaid over the lens.

Laughing all the way (not to the bank). Madness is not as haunting as reality. Just listen. Some nights as sad, but most nights, the melancholy smiles. Laughs, even. You could have known everything if you only asked. If you only cared enough to overcome your fears and let go. Control is just an illusion, like everything else, in case you didn't know.

Meanwhile, youtube distracts on to another plan of coincidence (call it what you will, empower whatever you will, it's your illusion too). O-M-G, look as song number three (rhyme for me, honestly... and I did not choose them, youtube did). You want more? Look at song number four. It's almost funny, you're killing me (smalls?... I never did related). Really?

Remember when entries made no sense unless you took the time to really read them again and again? The time you give is equal to the life you life. Love too.

We can still build that bridge, if you care. Do you dare?

And in case it matters, this one was justified.

Still, lol lam laa.

Narf :)