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...