and the world still...

whirls around, aye?... yes, the world does and the people, well, like most critters on this planet, the people burrow in and hang on for dear life... only the birds are not afraid to fly, and perhaps they are, or simply do not understand fear as other species do...

apparently the babbler wants out tonight as the thereal entry kind of rambled even as i consciously cut the shopping list short and tried to sum up the day concisely... as will be reflected in other writings before and after this entry, the constant craving is close to the surface tonight and all i've got are words to satisfy me as much as that is possible when the craving is multi-dimensional and words, while touching many dimensions, miss some essential to this life experience... for example, the word hug, even surrounded by asterisks and extended parentheses, feels great to read, but still does not feel as good as two arms wrapped around a body... yeah, sigh, alas, and all that at least we understand, which feels good too smiley stuff...

so what's going on in the land of babble?... of course, putting the babbler on the spot like this is sure to inhibit the free-associative (kind of thoughtless) synaptic bouncing around that might be happening at this moment if i didn't get all sorts of emo and introspective in the previous paragraph... dang consciousness, always spoils the irreverent madness...

yeah, so the babbler is lonely too... nobody comes out to play the babble games (few can and who has time, after all... most everybody has a life, business, family, and other activities that fill their time... who writes for no apparent reason other than to let the words out and hope somebody finds a way to play along for several hours every day, after all... playing along when there are no rules, no guides, nothing much to hang on to as the literary roller coaster flies off the tracks regularly, i mean, sheeesh, the babbler may always be lonely (but just forgets most of the time cuz the words are his friends and how much thinking can a juggler really do without dropping things, aye?)...

ah, so the babbler is a juggler of words (and references and memories and ideas and observations and perceptions and mental stuff that can be put into words) reference repeats itself (hush, if memory isn't faulty, we'll be pointing out every thought is redundant cuz it's already been thought somewhere at sometime by someone, if not me... and this is RealTime™?)... kind of like singing along with 30,000 Pounds of Bananas or some other obscure fun song...

what's that?... there'll always be an england... thank you groucho and all ships at sea... and speaking of england, and the transatlantic crossing, or the titanic, for that matter (if you don't get the connections, watch more marx brothers, listen to more harry, or ask when you have a few hours to sit and watch video and listen to music with me), and smash, who almost completely neglects me in spite of the lavish praise i heap on him in my occasional, but irreverently profound linkages, i am considering swimming the england next year...

actually, it's a trans-atlantic cruise i am considering... if i can work three weeks off from work, that is, and feel like spending the laptop money i loaned to rasputin (hey, he could win the lottery and pay me back before the trip, right?) on an ocean voyage (maybe it'll be romantic and the ship won't sink, aye?... i'll still take harry music along and try to get some people to sing along, cuz when else could the poignant irreverence (and philosophy) of dance band on the titanic be more felt, after all?)... it's just an inkling of an idea at the moment... i mean, the idea of being on a ship full of cruising humans out at sea for thirteen days without someone like me to play with seems a bit extravagant and even daunting... like what if they are all old fogies, romantic couples, or desperate mature singles?...

excuse me, i just got chills...

well, as i ponder whether swimming might be the better option and contemplate whether and how i could possibly fit into a group of humans in my age group (drugs and alcohol?... a lobotomy?... ok, i'll be serious... a coma?), i thank you all for coming and hope you enjoyed the show... i suspect that now, halfway through the night, after 3am snacking on leftover italian subs and cashews and code red, i will either scamper off behind the candoor or give into the loneliness and find some dark hole into pour i could some lament and deep dim hungry passions, maybe even throw a brief pity party... we shall see where the next click takes us, aye?... hey, just look at the last entry, after all)...

meanwhile, the toilet seat just put itself down... it's a frustrating toilet seat, just one of the many idiosyncrasies and inconveniences built into this apartment... it does not stay up and since i am a male of the species living alone, there's an inconvenience in a toilet seat that does not stay up... it must have been the dishwasher vibrations... yes, that is how precarious the seat is when left up... this apartment must have been designed for a woman...

so the one, my live-in lover, partner, and best friend, and you missed all the excitement cuz you were not here... but at least you have this report through which you can vicariously remember the experience you missed...

remember, together or alone, with or without us, the world still goes around... but it's more fun when we share it :)