previews: interaction!

as epic as the previous entry may have been (though i may be biased, but i believe it was far outdone by the behind the candoor version that was fully expanded and babbleified, it is time for another to take it's place here and this too is an entry in progress for behind the candoor as the babbler has much to be babbling about when pondering the words... still, though this place is supposed to be some far-fetched attempt to become more human in RealTime™, the babbler does get a fair share of the writing time and space and to that end, this is kind of a preview to what would have been going on behind the candoor for years had i not pasued there until recently... or something like that... in any case, we now bring you this preview of the entry in progress (or something like that dontcha know)...

apparently, the title will be interaction... yes, there are times (like a lot) when i sit or stand or walk or do whatever and every cell in my body (not just the naughty ones, seriously now, can i be serious for a moment, sheesh, hurumph, and all that faux indignation) is just screaming out for…

INTERACTION!

as opposed to attention, you see... especially the brain, which is one of the primary reasons i write so much… and why i can get into just about anything (he says while trying to find the music and literary value in a vanessa hudgens cd… oh gobblygook, can he be any more incorrigible?)… most especially i want… i want…

hmmm, what do i want, anyway?...

by the way, disregard all the links on that page except the ones below each section on the left that offer more cuz the rest are defunct or close to defunct… though the email groups are still alive, i am currently not able to access them as my account of ten years is corrupted at att and/or yahoo and they do not appear to respond to support requests with anything other than canned emails, so far at least… i wouldn’t be surprised if a rant about their poor service shows up around here somewhere… and obviously the computer info (and probably some other stuff) is way outdated, though i still never bought that cutting edge computer, nor have i gotten my stuff out of storage, alas, others take precedence)… ok, so it’s a bit dated, but tell you what… if you let me know you would like to read it updated, i will updated it… how’s that for service?...

but most seriously, all technical glitches and progress and asides aside, that page above was written ten years ago, at least, and it still summarizes what i want better than most anything else i’ve ever written… new to you?... sheesh, and you call yourself a fan (nyuk nyuk, narf :)

and where is this bit of retroactive introspection coming from?... stevie nicks kind of woman?... odd combo of foods for dinner (garden burgers, rice {made with four kinds of soup, nuts, and assorted spices, including a couple of slices of smoked sausage}, a few pistachio crisps with spinach dip, and glazed walnuts for dessert)?... vanessa hudgen’s mouth?... typing naked?... progress in unpacking and cleaning the place?... an earlier conversation with a real person? (who might actually want to know me?... i know, shocking)... a return trip to the gym for the third day in a row?... an improving hot shower experience?... an increase in the loneliness crying out for attention?...

naaaa, couldn’t be :)

it’s probably a bit of all and more of some and the only way to know for sure is to be here and explore with me, so since none of you are, we’ll just have to enjoy the irreverently serious speculation and park the question for future contemplation if you remember to bring it up if and when you get here…

to be continued...

"a"(m)e=hhr(squared)

three daily blogs?... no, actually, two daily blogs and a diary… so what happened to the journal?... is the journal too personal?... to serious?... am i serious?... i am laughing, but that doesn’t mean i am not serious… why all the public writing?...

well, since i am asking, i’ll ponder an answer…

of course i want to believe that someone out there in this universe lives to know everything about me because she (or he, but i’d personally prefer a she if we’re talking about mad love, unless it’s purely platonic, if that is possible, but then, anything is possible, so whomever) is madly in love with me and lives to catch my next breath…

hey, what do you expect from a hopelessly hopeful romantic?...

any of you who are understand what i mean, if not exactly, then approximately enough (i’m not alone, just ask zoe, who is much more amusing and adept at manipulating language in her quest… she’s also much more adorable, which may or may not give her an advantage, but we can compare notes some other time for i am about to orate about hopelessly hopeful romanticism)…

to share every moment of life and whatever else is beyond life, to live and breath to be with someone because they complete the perfect sharing you’ve always dreamed of… the symbiotic relationship that life is all about… and i say that anyone who claims they do not want this lives in denial… or is blinded by wounds and scars and is afraid to hope for it… hopeful romantics are not hopelessly hopeful romantics, after all…

we are of a different core, a core that will give it all every time no matter what happened yesterday… we are the ones who are ridiculous fools for love… we sing you’ll never walk alone and the impossible dream (except we know it is possible)… we don’t just give peace a chance, we live it and share it and sometimes, get walked all over for the open sharing and giving we do… but we will not change…

not the hopelessly aspect of being hopeful… it means we are gonna be hopeful even when hoping seems like the most ridiculously foolish thing that could ever be possibly be done by anyone anywhere at any time… all we need is love is a belief system… nothing can deter us from our faith in being in love…

we are addicts, actually… addicted to the bio-chemical hormonal rush of giving on every level unconditional trust to someone, the physio-emotional changes in the brain and body when belief is unquestioned and no challenge can sway us…

it is the belief in being in love, not necessarily belief in one single individual (important distinction between those hopelessly hopeful romantics who live relatively healthy emotional lives and those who become obsessive compulsive stalkers), but a belief that there is one individual out there who matches us in every way so the idyllic falling in love can actually happen…

yeah, so that’s why, for the moment, three daily blogs, or more accurately, two blogs (brief record of daily life and babbling record of daily life and whatever else comes to mind) and a diary (the babbling he does to maintain balance, equilibrium, sanity, and world peace)… and a dozen other writing spaces find something scribbled in them at least once a week and another dozen at least a couple of times a month and still more on occasion, all forming the written gardens that share me in words when nobody is around (so every moment, even alone, the sharing can continue)…

makes sense to me…

and if it makes sense to you, then yay you… hopelessly hopeful romantics unite!... hhr is not something to be shamed or hidden away under the covers… i know there are others out there, but exposure is a challenge… people mock us… use us… abuse us… but for those who truly think it seems safer in the closet, confession is the better part of valor, or something like that… you can dream, watch it on tv or movies, have wonderful masturbatory fantasy, or you can risk it all and live the hhr (soon it’ll be the latest addition to the dsm-v) lifestyle for all you’re worth and then, (and only then) have the chance to actually actualize sharing it…

all we are saying is give hhr a chance…

so anyway, to conclude and refurbish your undying faith in my judgment (or slap some irreverent closure on yet another fanciful entry, your choice), i give you give you the latest results from the many doctors and scientists studying my brain…

from my experience with psycho-tests, even the well established ones like myers-briggs, the results can change with the weather because they are generally based on mood… taking the test a hundred times and averaging the answers would probably give more accuracy, but here was the impromptu result for this introspective weekend…



but what does it mean?...

that, my friends and all others stopping by, is for the winds of chance to whisper in your ear one quiet night when you least expect it, curled up on a couch or pillow next to me, cuz the only real way to know is to be here sharing me in time and space to come to your own conclusions…

everything else is just a two dimensional representation of what we think, feel, and imagine might be… though these days you can find three semi-different (sometimes very different) two-dimensional representations plus more, which would make six mathematically, however it doesn’t work that way once you get into the bio-psycho-physics of the literary representations and other philosophical analysis we will benevolently leave for another time so that the serious profundity can be lightened by the irreverent seriousness and ultimately, by reader’s choice, be accepted, rejected, understood or misunderstood, pondered or perplexed, or missed entirely)… some days i think more than others… other days i don’t think at all… still, every day, i babble…

and everything changes, which changes everything…

but i love you anyway, again, right now :)

my personal santa

sleep, sweet sleep, though still have not put the bed together and sleeping on the mattress on the floor is not good here… it’s the mattress getting old, the trouble with a metal coil mattress that has been moved and stepped on and slept on for too many years… especially the stepped on part… and a caffeine withdrawal sugar hangover headache nags at the moment and that is woke me from my big green chair slumbers… unfortunately, the big green chair is falling apart and no longer uniformly supporting, so it is an awkward sleep as well… remedies cost money and giving away more than a thousand dollars to others last week does not inspire me to spend any this week... the body, however, demands something be done… and rest, deep rest…

time to cleanse?... i have five days to do it (and longer if i just muddle through the two days i work next week)... it has been a long long time since i took a month or few to do a complete cleansing… and it does take at least a month… a cave with a steam fire would be a wonderful vacation… why have i not found an apartment with a steam room or sauna?... sauna and hot tubs used to be very prevalent… i wonder if accidents and lawyers shut down the viability for most apartment communities…

the water heater in this place is not set very hot and i’ve been putting off addressing that, like i’ve been putting off unpacking, like i’ve been putting off the cleansing and weight loss and exercise and running… waiting for a magical butterflies are free neighbor to move in and offer the inspiration motivation right in my face in the physical space… thirty or forty minutes drive away just seems so far for one who loves spontaneity and immediate gratification and constant connection…

and then i wrote in thereal (sorta):

i am always looking for reasons and rhymes... but ”why should i?” is not a helpful question for me as long as i am looking outside of myself for an answer... i ought to be amazed that i have let the wait go on for so long... and the bloat… and the apathy... ambivalence... casual suicide... being human... and the american way... queue music…

hmmmmm, time for a resurrection?...

kind of obscure for thereal...

but real nonetheless…

and in RealTime™ no less, the drifting in and out of sleep bring introspective words, perhaps some from dreams yet incomplete, perhaps some from elsewhere, but all for you (and me, of course), brought by my own personal santa who hears my wishes and delivers whenever i focus and create the spirit of giving for myself (shhhh, don’t spoil the illusion, aye?)…

this may be the start of a more introspective path (or perhaps it is simply a thread that has flowed through every writing space from the start, the thread that flows from deep within amidst all the random babbling and irreverent asides and observations of life and seemingly casual nonchalance afforded the perfect being in the imperfect world…

the grand illusion you may never see unless you come close enough to breath the air i exhale… or perhaps, if you are astute and wise and lucky and in the right place at the right time in the right frame of your own mind, you might etch-a-sketch it yourself on your own internal palette and come to some understanding of what it all might mean in the big picture (and if you can color it in, you know how to begin)…

and the voices carry…

oh, there he goes again, rambling off on some conceptual reasoning and losing everyone in the process… time for a break and when i get back, he’ll probably be finishing up and won’t even know i was gone…

ok, i unscrewed the panels on the water heater and turned it up to about 125 degrees… it was down around 100 degrees or so, though it is impossible to tell for sure as the contol is a cheap plastic ring around a metal screw and each turn independently, so if the plastic ring was not calibrated accurately in the first place, the temperature scale means nothing… and i almost completely cleared the kitchen of boxes and except for scrubbing down the counters, it is as good as it’s gonna get… way too little counter space for me to take cooking seriously, but then, i adapt… more boxes unpacked, perhaps 40% now… and eyeing the mac… need a way to store the cdstacks piled on the table… shelves… definitely need shelves… for books, music, and in the bedroom, clothes…

put the wire box shelves together?...

no, more nap :)

jingle bells

this was the RealTime™ plan from thereal earlier tonight (link included in case you doubt my veracity and happen to have qa wet noodle you want to swing around cuz you don’t actually need to click this time as i am cheating again and including the thereal entry below, with the possibility of slight embellishments just cuz i can and it’s fun and it keeps us on our toes and drives editors bananas and bananas are good for you and me and editors too)… i really did intend to fall asleep and almost did, nodded off a few times sitting here, but then, well, a few other entries can tell that tale… meanwhile, this was the plan just hours ago in RealTime™…

and the excitement continues to…

build?... oh, such fun it is to ride and slay me, and as predicted, i am home early and the very act of leaving work early and having five days off (not counting the on-call status that could make life miserable with work at a moment's notice, but we won't think about that, ok?) in a row has me bouncing off the walls in spite of feeling like a recently stuff shrunken head (maybe we bounce better than the big empty heads, aye?)...

yes, so home and nothing to do for days (notice there are no plans on the calendar?... that's right, i intend to sleep... that's what santa is bringing me this year, and he promised, sleep sleep sleep... i'm gonna fall alseep sooner or later after this wired-to-the-rafters feeling wears off (and i only had one cup of tea the remove the zombie curse at 8am) and i will pass out and not acknowledge the existence of the world outside of my head until i wake up due to natural causes...

at least that's the plan... and i'm so excited i can hardly sit still... go figure (i am so easily self-amused... how could i not love me?)... i hope you find wonders and excitements in your own way (and mind) and thank you for the phone calls and text messages - you are really out there caring... i mean, i know, but it is so sweet to find the words on the screen or in my pocket :)

celebrate you! :)

as you see by the RealTime™ date stamp (for this entry at least), the plans may have been best laid off, cuz they sure didn’t work… someday, somebody just may quote that colloquialism and below the words will be the name unknown, but we’ll know better, won’t we my little pretties?... and our little dogs too…

keep the faith, a dozen entries will be your santa day present this year… watch for them coming soon to a blog or diary or journal or writing space near you… it’s a night for snuggling, so snuggle up… those of you who are alone and who have not learned to hug yourselves, please learn, life is so much more wonderfully fun that way…

seriously, it is :)

a taste of the past

something to listen to while browsing… beyond the broken links of the playlist at the top (so sad, the time to fix the stream of consciousness that was is not, just like the tapes lost in a lovers arms, the wistful winds of this season spent alone, something only some of us have known and no one wants to really call their own, but that’s besides the point)… what i should really ought to be doing right now is sleeping, being that i slept elevenish hours last night and woke feeling like i could sleep a hundred more (i need a date with sleeping beauty) and the head cold thing is responding as it always does to medicines (which is why i almost never ever take the crap), just dragging on longer than it would if i just rested for real (busy busy busy, even if there’s no snowmen down south)… instead, it seems, for your edification and perusal, pleasure or ignorance, i am writing rhymes and babble in random spots around the web world (oddly, not linked even in a bout of linkaholism)…

yes, once again (as never before cuz i don’t do this, not really, you know that) in a bout of shameless self-promotion disguised as plumes of optimistic with odd and questionable babbling asides (which i never do, of course, cuz who knows what i truly mean here there or anywhere, anyway), i produce and reproduced (cuz fruit is good for the body, for one thing) the following random moment in a mood apart from the body (cuz the body feels like dried ass shit, to be semi-metaphorical about it all) and i give it to you now to do as you will with, as you wish will, as you are going to do anyway, whatever you want…

maybe it’s the cold…

sick and tired and i still wanna party all the time party all the time party all the time and yet, still wondering wandering on my semi-quixotic quest for someone to love love love (with the obligatory shock value and babble just (just?... is there really any justice in this world?... never mind this distraction, get the point already) to keep us on our toes… and real… you can’t know it all, but you must…

whatever you did or however you may react or whatever you think or whyever you are here, if you are here, still, i am delightfully amused all by myself (though lonely, so feel free to share and if you want, call, or come over if you are in the neighborhood and do not mind an apartment that is decorated in late-twentieth century storage facility, the style so the rage of lonely drifters who stumbled into a long-term stay on a short-term budget with physical world disinterest at heart…

did i mention i met a few, or at least a couple, of english teachers the other day, or night, or couple of nights, to be precise… and a kindergarten teacher too… yes, they were a threesome, at least the second night… one of them inspired one of the rhymes linked above, now how’s that for a real life ethereal magical mystery tour for you to play with, aye?... i know there must be somebody out there as tickled as i am at these maxes i inadvertently build when i am playing with myself (words, i mean playing with words with myself, or playing with myself with words, yeah, that’s it)… you know how i love teachers, alas, almost as much as i love mommies (and i’ve had much better results and luck with teachers, come to think of it)…

cuz hey hey ho ho, na na na na na, after all, just cuz i’ve had no time and i’ve been super sick and tire and beat and burnt doesn’t change the fact that it is december (and elton and bernie remind me all over again, along with andrew and tim, with billy and so many others, and of course harry… oh, can the beegees and moody blues be too far away?) and i am me, after all…

goo :)

i miss you too :)

sick puppy

while the current desktop image (see the story and the image a few entries back) stimulates the sensuality in me more and more, the schedule of social and fun and work and work leaves so little time for rest that the body is running down and this seasons cold/flu bug seems to be digging in more than any previous year, enough so that i caved in and bought and consumed some nighttime cold/cough medicine a few minutes ago and i am hoping it will put me to sleep (cuz i’ve got to be awake in four hours to head to softball practice {and then to meet Rasputin and then, in the evening, another social gathering} and i still haven’t found time for laundry or needed sleep and i still have work monday morning)…

i seem to be holding out for the time off i have planned around the holidays, but that might mean i completely crash and sleep through the first (xmas) weekend so i might rejuvenate for the next weekend and new year… ultimately, this body could use a month off, just to regain it’s immunization balance… but working for almost eight consecutive years and now working a job that asks for sixty hours a week (and more) and still trying to develop an active social life takes a toll on the body and while others accept the limits and give up and give in and settle for whatever, i’m not them… so i must find some time for deep sleep for a couple or few days… soon, i hope…

remnind nme ti cont he… huh?...

remind me to continue this some other time :}

relevancy is relative

wow, freaking wow, freaking wow, freaking freaking wow, how time passes not unnoticed but unrecorded as if it is unnoticed but not really cuz i notice even as it slips by unnoticed… and everywhere goes the same or different only similar and still somewhat unique (no really, you would barely believe your own eyes if you found the time to see for yourself, read, even, cuz time keeps on slipping slipping slipping and even as it does that, i do this, even when i hardly notice myself…

fact is, all babbling aside, at least a dozen of those blog diary journal things have been updated this week, some a few times, at least one more than every day… yes, the addition to sharing words on the net is in full bloom even as i forget where i uploaded stuff moments after, or even before the words are fully uploaded… freaking wow, right, whatever…

the excuse (and reason, aussi) for not being here as often as all the other places is lack of time to adequately stir up the babbler sufficiently to roll down the hill (or is this up?) toward a babbling entry that is what this place is for (wherever this is) and most all of the other places are briefer… and right here and now in the midst of this life sandwhich, the music slows down with bon jovi tonight and the heart still racing the clock might explode any moment now, but the minds is floating in space, cyber, hyper, sub, somewhere out there in a timeless stillness, a vortex of balance that is invisible to the naked eye and most human brains cuz of the wavelength or energy field level or something like that…

lonely, yeah, still, i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else for this is home and no matter where i’ve been. everywhere else is just visiting… may your world feel as comfortable… sometimes numb and yet, when turned on, the most wonderful feeling ever… except, of course, for the Buddha belly… i still do not think the fat one was truly honest with his body, but then, one can be at peace and content and in bliss without being completely in touch with self (ignorance says so, after all, but not just that way if you know what i mean… apparently the fat one did)…

and so i might have gone out and bought a $600 laptop (or put $600 toward a laptop and since i’ve been eyeing those new little $300 eee machines, that would have been easy) but instead, i made some holiday wishes come true and while i sit here lonely waiting for this old monster gaming laptop to die again, it still feels good to give…

one of these days i will double the pleasure by giving to myself while i am sharing with someone else… it’s the someone else part that is still missing from that pleasure, so i do the best i can in the meantime (not that it’s mean time, the in-between time, not average either, just playing with the words, after all, i mean, not mean, but here, not mean, but there, not mean, but everywhere)…

so what’s new with you? :)

repetition is flattery, flattery is cheating?

so using reverse psychobable on myself, i return from a comment behind the candoor to present a future entry made of past substance and much nothingness just like in the beginning when exploration was more important than meaning and abstraction lead to wherever it got me...

or something like that...

wow, both of you from the snail mail days... and sadly, i do not have the last letters you wrote to me (not being able to pick up where i left off so rarely happened to me in this life before the late nineties and i still have not completely adjusted or accepted the permanence of the disconnection cuz, well, after all, who knows better than you two that i am a dreamer, aye?)...



no matter what thought, i am so glad and feel so lucky that you both found me again... the threads of the tapestry of this life have been so frayed for so long, after all... and speaking of hard to find, in a very real world way i am hard to find the way peter was hard to find in hook, but the inciteful kid did find him when he squeezed his cheeks together a few times and looked deep into his eyes... and the child shall lead, obviously...



does anybody really know what time it is, or what the multi-layered meanings in my babbling truly really means?... what have i said about anything anytime, after all... even the shadow mayb have never known, abd where is he now and where does that leave us?...



meanwhile, as for finding me, i always thought i was as easy to find as the pink elephant in the china shop, what with blaring my nonsense and such and such all over the internet in the most public of places... but for the quickest trip to the space before my eyes, i am at (e)thereal daily these days... several times a day, sometimes... i finally revved up the daily diary journal blog discipline and there it is, brief and to the point, sometimes, not much like this comment, but then, this comment is not there, is it?... no, it is here in the depths behind the candoor where the babbling may have peaked once upon a time between the blinding fear-filled pastries of exploding dreams and crushed hopes and the massive recovery and rebuilt transmission parked between my ears on the way back to the euphoria of being me i am slightly feigning today...



what?...



yeah, so anyway, i am still mind-dumping at realtime and less often, here, behind the candoor, where the internet provided an escape from the dreams beamed down from planet candora and the almost return to everyday consciousness that the original live journal where candor could be anyman's (or everyman's... or womans' for that matter, just ask jackson browne) once emerged...



so then, with the demise of bellsouth in the jaws of att and the corruption of the yahoo password due to the confused cookies crumbling all over the once proud internetm so i moved my main email, for when i respond to email, to candoor AT gmail DOT com...



and all those those websites where i can be found mostly sometimes, though there's not been much time for the second and third more babbly places lately and i still have a love-hate-ambivalent feeling about email, but this redundancy may be less useful than it appears... so maybe i blog for the sense of safety that comes from public exposure (lately i've been asking myself why i blog a lot cuz someone who may become a new friend, the first in many years, asked me and i don't have a completely satisfying answer (and isn't that the sign of the potential for a friend by my definition {and isnt that an old familiar phrase}, the inspiration to search for the perfect, or at least a completely satisfying answer to a question... to dream the impossible dream, after all, and still i do it my way la la la)...



anyway, perhaps just for the webmazement of it all, or simply the ego trip, i casually announce the existence and paths to more websites i babble and rhyme at are listed at more blogs and crossroads, but i don't have communication set up on most of those places...



and whatever the reason, finding me, i suppose, cuz that is what i want, really, even if it is a playful game of hide-n-do-seek game most of the time, there is always the po box and phone are on several of my websites, including this one and myspace and facebook where the whole world can search to find me (and if i am lucky, more people who knew me way back when will find me... actually, to find me, just put my name in google :)



meanwhile, in another part of the mind...



34. lately, i eat myself out of the plane of consciousness where my awareness belongs.



35. this has been going on for a long time.



36. time is still relative.



yes, and then, after lapsing into the midst of yet another of the many 101 things lists i was making to try on the norms of the blog world some time back, i emrge stuffed with nuts and fruits and ridiculousness that, when peeled away, might be the foggy laughter hiding depths of meaning so profound, there is no one on earth ready, willing, or able to succumb to it's power and still maintain their independent composure, whatever all that means...



there was a frog that represented something entirely different that may or not have meant anything important that related to anything... and in the end, i must do it to remain alone, for that is the result and on virtually every level of consciousness, the end does explain the means, even when it does not justify it...



love saved, loved gaved, loved living, love giving, and some accept, and some receive, and some just take, and some just give... where is that precarious balance, after all is said and done?... perhaps in the fun, which is all the girls and boys want to have, after all, most of the time... so carry that weight a long time boy, cuz nobody's gonna do it for you... it's life, and you're on your own out there...



which is why i come here (to the garden of the madhouse?)… i can be myself here, which is ever changing anything that the moment might inspire, but it’s still me, all i can be, the chameleon waiting for the partner so the relatively fixed point in space can be chosen and connect with another relatively fixed point to form a line, which would really be a never ending series of spiral whorls formed by two freely moving bodies finding their mass, in close proximity, influencing and altering their orbits, floretting, even, exponentially like a helix painted by Fibonacci or fermat or archimedese, even, ever wandering wondering around the fractalosity of the moment … but enough hyperbole, i mean, before we step down to the level of the magic fart (what was that about squeezing cheeks together mentioned earlier?... oh but then again {and again and again and again and} we all know the real magic was found in semi-classical literature and not even the xian dynasty or in many Galician petroglyphs such as the one in Mogor, even, can explain the last few references…



so we can just enjoy the show…



pause to nod off :)

long lost in libboland

alright, the music plays and sets the tone, the feeling comes from deep alone where sirens sing in monotone and passions are all that we own… of course the most serious sort of beginning can (and generally ought to, from my perspective) bleed into irreverence, if just to keep the balance but also, to amuse and maintain a happy playful experience in the whole reality, big picture, you know)… but seriously, sex sells so never ever give it up if you want to be a real part of this world…

of course you can choose to be a tree… or even, a shrubbery!…

speaking of burning bushes, i have decided that vanessa hudgens has a seriously mouth-wateringly adorable mouth on the cover of her cd, which is the only reason i own a copy, cuz even though i know too well that a single photo does not describe (even visually) the appearance or attractiveness for someone’s face for me, in this one photo her mouth soared into the top ten of the list (you remember libbo, dontcha?... i mean, i’m not actually dead yet, ya know?) and her nose leaped into the top twenty-five, maybe higher… i could easily drool while inspired by a mouth such as that… and while she’s settled back in the pack a bit (on libbo’s list), any of the top hundred mouths produce hormonal eruptions throughout my brain (and puckers too)… i think she takes me back to the first lips i ever kissed, though the memory is as much ethereal as physical as it was at a very young age, nursery school, actually, but the imprint of the look still ignites my ardor (come on baby light my fire, baaybee… wait, who let austin powers in here?)… and suddenly, i overwhelmingly wish to acknowledge the fact that i miss kissing…

just one more tid bit about me you may not have known before brought to you by the unpacking of yet another bag of cds and piling them into yet another semi-random cd stack… you never know where the music will take me… or the bags, for that matter… imagine when i start unpacking the boxes…

her lips seduce me with a pout
and her smile calls my heart out
her face is framed within my dreams
but it may come as a surprise
i’d say no thanks if she asked me
to come between her thighs
for what i see when i look up
is too much ego in those eyes

ok
so maybe i’d say yes between her thighs
come on guys…
but as far a soul mate i think
there’s too much ego in those eyes

the top of libbo’s list (i mean libbo’s eyes, in case this has not made sense to you yet… and if it still doesn’t well, you can sign up for the remedial course when you catch up with me) have the eyes that melt me best, in case you wondered… the top five have been up there for more than a few years, actually… though there is always a chance for someone new to slide into the top ten and even higher cuz, after all, there’s always hope and the one is number one for libbo too… and i mean, you never know when someone who might actually be interested in getting physical with me might be stopping by to dive into these words and hopefully they stumble upon an entry like this one where i provide easy access to the bios and specifically, what it takes to get me in the mood (30’s) in the sack (50s) hot and bothered (70s) to wanna jump your bones (90s) and so on…

language changes over the years, but it is still the same old story after all…

once upon a time on the phone (part one)

the whole concept of RealTime™ is irreverent and rather discarded by a babbler, as you may have noticed along the way as the babbler increasingly moved into this space and presented the relativity of time in a relatively infinite number of ways… this entry is once again and remake of the babbler’s craft and now that the diary home of the babbler is coming alive again (that would be behind the candoor, in case you don’t have your program or haven’t been paying attention for years and years), some amount of spillage, or repeat verabage is bound to appear as there is simply not enough time in each day to be in three writing spaces at once and still find time to let the rhymes flow in dozens of other places (as they have this week) and still function work and in the busy social life i’ve developed in the offline world (and we call this RealTime™, aye?)… so without too much further ado, i bring you the following in two part harmony (that is, two entries) cuz the original is always expanded upon in the remake, didn’t you know that?)…

was it all a dream?…

so… so… long ago… the music plays transitioning from the john lennon classics to the new cd stack and mostly almost unknowns as i imagine the spirit of giving that many call santa (and thank goodness for it too, for the spirit of the other holiday traditions have sure gone the way of hypocrisy in a hand basket over the years, but that’s a rant for another time when i have a tv and watch the news and am in the mood to share opinions on religions and politics and world affairs and the like that i don’t like at the moment) passing through more people in one night than any single human illusion, hope springs eternal once again…

and the phone is an amazing thing (as are run on sentences interrupted by parenthetic asides that all seem to come together to make sense if you are adept at reading the intricacies of the english language… not that i’m any expert or anything… just a babbler with an instinct for rambling on… english teachers are very welcome to ride along)…

so anyway, back to the phone… there i was nodding off, right on the brink of the abyss of endless sleep (or something like that) when the phone starts calling me… it knows my name, but i haven’t taught it to start screaming hey you nodder, pick me the fuck up already (wouldn’t that get a rise out of the board room or local pub crowd… hmmmm, could have a dual meaning and be an interesting conversation starter… or seriously kill any chances of meeting people… but then, that’s how it is with any uniqueness or opportunity, it’s all in the way one handles it… yesterday’s fool is tomorrow’s hero, the school geek becomes the leader of the world, and so on)…

back to the phone (oh, were we rambling on about that now?)… yes, the text messages started snatching me from the sweet arms of dreams (not that i remember any much, but they do get rather wet sometimes so they must be good… have i posted the babble about Vanessa yet?... oh wait, we’re into the phone story) and i decided to send a few myself… and then, like a tsunami from the east, the phone rings and there is smash on the other end (i knew it must really have been him cuz he had a pussy on his lap and he was appropriately pissed)…

after adjusting my ears to accept the original english tongue (not that smash was sticking his tongue in my ear, after all, for all the heroic stories you might have heard about it {his tongue}, it’s not that long after all and besides, it’s way too big to get through the phone line and as sweet as he can be, smash is a bit too manly for me… come to think of it, i was never much for ear licking anyway… except for amy’s ears, as i recall), and there are so many, after all, tongues, that is, but in the end it was great to hear the voice behind the mad author and destroyer of rubbers (friction, you know) in his natural habitat… i wonder if he will remember calling when he wakes up tomorrow…

and if that wasn’t enough, the infamous chad, who occasionally guest posts in the home of smash was there in the background chatting up some unsuspecting innocent from another part of that little rock they call home and probably making her think he was santa claus, or perhaps some darker figure of the night… hopefully she is still talking to him tomorrow… and there will be no warrants out...

ah, the wonderful tomorrows of our lives… those days we wake up and try to find a few pieces of the night before and failing at that, reach for another dose of the dog that bit… i remember them well, those old dogs, though my liver and kidneys are happy i’ve chosen to lose interest in the drunken days of yore… i am old, after all, as my good friend smash reminded me so warmly just a few moments ago (or whenever it was, some time in the future… gotta love a brother who tells you the truth though, so where is that note from that girl who wants me to call her the next time i go out for a run?... yeah, that’s the sort of inspiration i need… cheerleaders... gotta stay in shape to keep up with the twenty year olds)…

so now i am awake again, at least for the moment… and it didn't end there...

(part two follows, ummmm, yesterday :))

once upon a time on the phone (part two)

losing all contact with RealTime™ as this year of 2008 rumbles toward it’s ultimate conclusion, and filling in the gaps of the three primary writing spaces with overlaps and redundancies that are edited for your continued reading pleasure (like a stephen king novel is pleasure, i imagine, aye?), this is the second of a two part entry that will have it’s first part uploaded tomorrow so it appears above, and therefore, in the spot where a part one should appear… confused?...

we haven’t even gotten started…

and it gets even more interesting… what?... more interesting than smash?... how is that possible, you might ask… well, maybe interesting is not the right word… weird?... what?... more weird than smash?... ok, so maybe the word is creepy… oooo, creepy…

see, what happened was…

there i was nodding off again (you may recall the future in RealTime™ if you follow the flow) and the phone rang again… yes, again… read part one if you don’t believe me or want to understand that again means there was a first time that wasn’tthis time... yeah, so anyway… i vaguely remember pressing the button (to answer) and next thing i know is i am waking again and hearing voices on the phone… i say hello and nobody responds… all i can come up with is someone who’s name is not in my phone must have called me from inside their pocket… i can only hope is was a female pocket as it’s more exciting in a female pocket, for me, at least… maybe i was the last number they entered in their phone or something… and there i am, asleep while their phone is connected to my phone and until i wake, neither of us know it… i wonder if this is the one… laughter, naturally…

so there i am sitting and listening to background conversation to try to figure out who called me on the phone and i suppose i ought to hang up but i am curious… i would be asleep but the conversation is keeping me awake… well, not the conversation as i really can’t heard what people are saying, but my curiosity about who it might be… so very odd… it’s kind of mystical, like here it is, xmas even on the calendar (well, it was in the future when i actually wrote this entry), and santa pressed the button on someone’s cellphone to keep me company cuz he knew i was going to be alone… but i was choosing to be alone… to sleep, actually… and yet, curiosity is fun…

santa is such an imp...

so is life (an imp and fun) when lived as i live it (and i mean mostly meaning no harm and therefore innocently curious and open to sharing anything any way the connections may happen as honestly as we are able… like this phone connection, for instance… i don’t know who is there and i don’t know what they are talking about, but i am kind of almost there with them even if they don’t know it… it’s an ethereal sharing and i just might find out who’s phone called me one day down the road, another mystery to explore along the way)… yeah, life is fun when lived as i live it…

maybe the phone wants to be my friend again…

wouldn’t it be nice :)

somewhere in time

so a few days ago (or maybe a few days from now, time being so relative and all), while contemplating which came first, the chicken or the easter bunny, or something like that) as i was wandering the web like i used to when i was more aimless and undreassed, i mean undisciplined, and much mor emo than i am today {yes, i was, the proof is all over the web}, i re-discovered the usenet (ironic name for it, in the end, but that's another story so human with good and evil and heroes and villians and all the makings of an internet fairy tale that we will probably never care to explore again, but is also archived for your viewing pleasure somewhere in time) that is now owned, apparently, by google (why don't the big dot-coms bail out wall street and the auto companies already and just take over the world... probably because they are waiting for the stock prices to crash... hush, they kill you if you know too much, ya know?... of course we don't know, we're safe... shhhh, go away)...

where were we?...

ah yes, a few days ago (or from now), while doing all sorts of odd nothings, i rediscovered a lifetime emo[p]'

'
'
['
;

which is code for who knows what as i was just cleaning some chocolate ice cream off the keyboard, but i was about to write (i think) emo-exotic (or was it erotic) self-indulgence that distracted me from the real world during the great post-toronto pity-party that closed out the previous millennium... oh, you should have been there, i was so human-like, you'd have all been proud...

yes, while the first half of the nineties theme song was living on the edge and the mid-nighties might have been living on the ledge, the last few years of that roller coaster decade was definitely living on the web and which was truly living, scientists, philosophers, theologins, and others, in hundreds of years might still be debating...

of course i meant theologians, but what's the difference, really, an oxymoron is an oxymoron, but that's a horse of a different color, so we might as well read theogony, or theo huxtable, for that matter... but that is all still speculation and who'll be around in hundreds of years to verify anyway, what we are interested in now is the now, or in this case, the past... the nineties, and parts within, to be more precise... you should have been there, you'd have told me i was crazy so many times until you actually started thinking i really was...

and just to prove whatever it proves, i present you with the gift of linkage to one of the emoiest exchanges of that third phase of the decade prior to this decade, complete with colorful harmony and a discordant orchestra of ninnies and nannies and jokers and pokers and hams and hemlets and drama queens and crownless kings and an amazing array of silly and serious folk who i miss, for the most part, mostly cuz i never really know who they were, but i liked who they might have been, if that makes any sense to you...

what does it matter though, when those usenet posts, like the original journal, like the past diaries and current blogs and all the kings men (and queens women, for that matter) are ignored and worse than forgotten, never known... ahhh, alas, sigh and all, so why does it amuse me to continue building this literary maze in the hope someone will be crazy enough to want to find their way through it (after exploring every dead end cuz, after all, the secrets and treasures are often discuised as dead ends)... wheyever, it does and i like being amused...

so i continue, so there, naa na na na na, nyuk, nyuk, narf...

are you going to report me now? :)

holiday message (part one)

the ridiculous seduces the sublime and they have several children, three of which grow up to write this next two part blog entry behind the candoor, but the twist for a change is that instead of bringing RealTime™ to the babbler for playful expansion and random asides, the babbler brings the children here to expose themselves and celebrate the birth and death of two of my holiest heros, harry and john, and the legacy of memories they engraved in my mind, which may have little or nothing to do with the post itself, but still the timing was right so the following holiday message (now in three parts, at least) was (now were) prematurely created long after the original sin that became the greatest secret (and fiction) the world has ever known…

what i mean is... whoever be so bold as to believe they understand must either be in my head or in my bed or just lucky i guess, cuz this particular story starts out goes something like this... i mean, what i mean is… i have watched you take shape from a jumble of parts and i see in your form the potential for art and i would like to sculpt you with my own two hands without concern over who or what understands... but the sensual pleasures that human beings fear create walls of repression and graves of despair and the people lay down like lambs lead to the slaughter cuz, for example, no man will admit ever feeling the hots for his daughter or some budding young sexual flower still so firm and fit and pure innocently exploring her sexuality (unless drunk or drugged to the point where inhibitions dissolve and true feelings are told)...

and then we feign shock: omigosh, a serious statement, controversial, no doubt… (instructions: stare blankly into space while cleaning navel, appear genuinely surprised by the lint, play with it a few moments, smile and stare at the camera, reader, audience {cuz they’re such a lovely, after all}, walk away passively, {optional ending: continue}, thank you for following these instructions)… must be past bedtime or something i ate… ordering the food thai hot may have been a mistake, aye?... thigh hot?... (brief commercial interlude: hot thighs?... ring slim jim, 407-555-sexyway for your remedy, offer not available in conservative states), but we’ll get to thighs later, right now we’re on to the great secret of humanity, the fear of sex… yes, the pretense that sexual desire must be kept under wraps, under covers, secret…

idiots…

of course i mean no offense… naturally that was written more or less tongue-in-cheek… more or less… obviously cuz i mean no harm or insult… truthfully just stating the facts, ma’am… seriously (what?... where did all the commas go?) the hypocrisy (of the human love-hate {read: fear} relationship with sex) is the basis of every marketing campaign from religion to soap, from politics to candlesticks... fear of sex is the basis for all the big religions (and many of the small ones, even cults, cuz ultimately, {potable quotables coming up} religions are distractions from real life and religion is something to do to avoid playing with your genitalia, you know) and most of the laws of most nations…

popular culture is similar, you’ve see it (unless you are blind, in which case, perhaps you’ve felt it)… every-day cartoons tease children and adults alike with young nubile bodies dressed in skimpy cartoon costumes, kids and teens casually showing panties and bulges all so innocently, as if nobody is noticing, are all the rage… and from the dawn of time, in spite of the occasional public outcry, the same public clamour for tits and ass in spoken and written stories and more recently, in television and movies... i wonder how different it would have been if men were not in charge…

anyway, as i might have repeated before it happened, the scene moves from the ridiculous to the sublime (and their kids play with it)… this idiocy of human fear dominates the landscape of human behavior… when it comes to the human body people seem to demonstrate one of the most suicidal aspects of humanity (and the most obvious hypocrisy to me, but then, that could just be my perspective, after all), even more so than the golden rule bullshit or the rest of the holier than thou platitudes humanity uses to put others down (and kill things, especially each other), but overlook when it comes to living up to them themselves...

yes, the whole concept of sex freaks people out... no wait, i am still serious (why are you laughing?... you’re not laughing?... eeek, am i in trouble, mom?)… jails are full of confused people who chose not to control their own hands and actions cuz they never grew out of or learned to control childhood or adolescent sexual urges and fantasies... mostly because too much irrational fear and repression creates psychological disorders and maladaptive behaviors… psychiatric hospitals are filled with children who are condemned for life, labeled and drugged for exploring their natural curiosity... people kill each other (and themselves) daily over sex... it is really quite sad, pathetic, cruel, and a waste...

so don't do it...

that's right, you heard me, don't do it... just say no to abstinence… don't be afraid of your body... it is your body… touch yourself... seriously, start touching yourself now… right now… play with your genitals... rub your fingers all over your skin, all over your body... find the spots that tickle, that annoy… find those places on your body that feel so good you are afraid and suddenly pull your hand away, then go back there slowly and say, loud as you please, fuck you fear, it's my body and i'm gonna make it feel good...

that’s right… say it… do it… feel it… caress it… stroke it… rub it… enjoy it…

and then do it with your friends...


go ahead, we’ll wait…



.



.



.



.



.


isn’t that better?...


now you can enjoy part two of your gift…

holiday massage (part two)

that was my holiday message (the previous entry, which is technically the next entry in this blog, chronologically, but it the entry above this entry when viewed in this blog, so it was uploaded as the next entry, chronologically, not to confuse, but to give you the best chance of actually reading part one before part two because it is important to get all the parts in the right place in order to achieve maximum pleasure…

and this is too, the holiday message that is, though i was not referring specifically to the message in the bottle above (we'll get to that in a minute), my gift to you... and as you may recall, if i mentioned it, and if i didn’t i am mentioning it now, aren’t i, so later you may recall that i mentioned that one of the images in this two or three or more part entry is my current holiday desktop photo and i am getting to that, but first comes your gift, all this encouragement to play with yourself, to turn yourself on, to share your good tidings... comfort and joy, joyousness, even… emphatically stated: permission to orgasm granted!

give yourself a holiday a massage...

and chocolate... feel free to rub chocolate on it and lick it off... or have someone else lick it off… surely you can find someone willing to help you out… even if you are not surely… whipped cream, ice cream, whatever feels and tastes best for you or your helping tongue... use your imagination… you do still have an imagination, don’t you?... come on, you know it’s in there… i see you smiling… and don’t be ashamed, maybe you still believe you need alcohol and drugs to loosen up and feel comfortable in your skin, well, then by all means, until you find you can relax and enjoy life without it, drink up, smoke up, tune in, turn on, and drop your drawers... show us your true colors... kick up your heels and wrap your legs around a friend...

or a tree… ever wish you were a tree?...

ok, so i jest, sort of, but what do you expect?... and i am serious about enjoying yourself, but i mean, just look at all these words, these entries, these messages in these internet bottles called posts or entries… and speaking of messages in bottles, did you see the message in the bottle in the image that opened this entry?... really?… what did you see?...

if you saw two people, you may be too far gone to understand half of what i’ve ever said, alas, but you can still enjoy life in your own warped way even if you are misunderstanding most everything and even if you are offended by all the innuendos and asides… i dare you to show the photo to a very young child… the fact is, most young children, if you haven’t exposed them to a whole lot of sexual images, will see dolphins… that’s right, dolphins… at least nine dolphins… possibly ten… maybe even eleven if they are truly innocent and have excellent visual acuity… maybe you can see them now… look again and try, cuz it’s kind of like a purity test…

laughter will not make you any more pure or innocent you know…

but you still might be somewhere inside… somewhere down deep… somewhere in your most clever wishes of your pre-corrupted youth… somewhere before you were jaded by human culture… somewhere, like in your heart, where you want to be harmless and good and kind and precious and wonderful and most of all, harmless… that part of you that still tears up when you hear xmas music (and i don’t mean the religious indoctrinations, but the simple feeling of wanting to give and share smiles and hugs and wonder and trust and love (yes, and joyousness too)…

and you might not believe it, but you still can feel it… the wonder and excitement of uninhibited ecstacy, of the exhuberant feeling of pleasure of being alive… the feeling that simply makes you want to leap up and spread your joy and share your happiness with the whole world… go a head, reach down deep… believe it is still there… trust yourself to find it, to feel it… nurture it… let it out… feel it well up inside until you can only release it through passionate embrace or at least bursting forth in a physical explosion… a hug for the whole universe… come on, go ahead, spread your arms, your legs, your heart and mind… show us your love… show us your heart… show us your panties… kick up your heels and jump for joy…

well, you think the holiday message was over, did you?... the gift… your gift… the wonder… your wonder… it is all yours to open and play with… reach out and touch it… you can, you know you can… and you can because you are free to enjoy yourself in the comfort of your body and if you have one, or a few, with your friends… your passion for life is irrepressible when you see it right before your eyes, when you truly feel it deep inside, so let yourself feel it, reach out and touch it, you know you want to…

and if you are still reading, then there is still hope for you to see the dolphins… and ladies, if you call yourself ladies, especially very heterosexual gals… please know that i have not forgotten you straight females out there… one of these days i may wrap up a holiday package of words and most masculine images for you, but this is the holiday package and, after all, these end-of-year holidays are supposed to be bright and gay, after all… oh giggles, and all puns aside, i mean they have a feminine touch to them at their heart… dontcha understand?... i hope so…

and hopefully you can enjoy this one until that muscular one, aka the long hard one, comes together cuz you can, if you want to, for the amusement alone, if not the erotic pleasures of your body… but do express the intimate pleasures of your body all you please for whomever you please, yourself especially… that’s the point, after all… you did get the point, right?...

and on the other hand (yours or whomevers feels right tonight), you might be (hopefully are) comfortable and encouraged to be free to be you enough to already be playing with yourself happily right now (got a web cam?) and need no disclaimer or apology and if that is the case, yay and jump for joy all over again (panties optional) and embrace yourself and your best friend and your lover and anyone you want to embrace because, agter all, a hug is a terrible thing to waste and truly is, a hug that is, one of the most wonderful experiences you can have in this life…

and now, part three of this holiday gift await…

reverse psychblogogy (part three)

this is part three of your holiday message, or massage, if you are wise and following instructions… but remember, it is important that you fit the parts together just right for maximum satisfaction, so be sure to read and experience part one and two, preferably in that order, before coming again to part three… and i do hope you are coming again, because if you are not, you missed the whole point and certainly have issues following instructions… so part two is here and part two is here…

come back after you’ve come there…



.



now, hopefully you’ve all experienced a hug in this life, and not a one-armed wrap-around puckish hug… i mean a full out two armed wrap yourself around someone squish-with-all-you’ve-got kind of hug… sadly, few humans remember how to do that after puberty… some hormone must destroy the best of the memory cells or something… but it is not impossible to remember how and certainly not impossible to actually do it, so do it… reach out and hug someone right now…

remember when i asked you if you ever wanna be a tree?... well, you may have already answered, but i didn’t… no, i really didn’t and if you read the parts in order you’d know that… and if you did not get your parts in the right place, well, then you only have yourself to blame if you do not feel fully satisfied or in any way uncomfortable…

the fact is, the first tree hugger does nothing for my tree-wanna-be-ness… but ask me again now and i will unequivocally respond without a doubt and in all certainty i do, and i do every time i see this photo above… if you happen to see this girl, please send her to me at once… but we digress (regress?), no less, and the tree is so innocent, how could you possible find the photo a turn on… perverts, every one of you…

and you should be dang proud of yourself too…

so this brings us to my holiday desktop photo (oh really?)... and no, it was not the jump for joy in the previous entry (i am so shocked you would think so), nor the adorable hugger above (though you will send her right over if you happen to bump into her in the forest or anywhere, right?)… actually (seriously), i am considering asking the artist for permission to use the photo (the desktop holiday photo) for my holiday cards, but it's probably too late this year, so maybe next year... if i ever send holiday cards, that is...

ah, but don't let the irreverent tease deceive you, i have mad respect for her… i first discovered the artist when she was a little nip of a lass that could be bounced on your knee (figuratively bouncing, of course)… her prose and poetry drew me into her magical mind and then, i saw her creative photographic images and then, actually saw her and her eyes and fell in love visually as well (as if a literary crush wasn’t enough for me)… you can read all about it somewhere in the archives behind the candoor or even as far back as planet candora… but leave us not let puerile fantasies distract us from sexual liberation…

this is, after all, a sincere attempt to enlighten you poor human folk who are so afraid of your bodies that you find ways to distract yourself, like condemning others not afraid of their bodies and killing in the name of your gods... or watching tv… you need to know that, right from the start, you’ve been fed a pack of lies that are based on fear of nudity, fear of your body, and they’ve massively screwed you up... get over it, please, before you kill us all...

and you do have permission, by the way (see above) and not just mine... you’ll be happy and relieved to know that i personally spoke to jesus and allah and buddha and mo on your behalf, they all agreed that you should stop all this fear of sex crap and get on with the pleasure of life...

so now that you can comfortably play with yourself without fear or recrimination (these people died for your right to love and forgive and play with yourself, remember), we come to the part of this entry where we finally get to my holiday desktop photo… many photos vied for the position and someday perhaps i will present all the runners up, but for the moment without further ado as you see just below these words, we now present the 2008-2009 holiday desktop photo…

note the carefully placed holiday lighting to appear so casually laid in places, to highlight, yet not expose too much of the holiday spirit... note the unplanned, mostly unpacked ambiance of the scene... and the mystery… is she sitting, squatting… is she on a bed, a stool, a chair… the dark hides the secrets, the light invites your imagination to wonder… doesn't the image get you in the holiday mood?... dontcha feel like peeking behind the curtain?... maybe you’re ready to start your own unwrapping now…

thank you oodles to the artist (and her gift of visual play, literary expression, and sense of humor)… someday i will sit her on my lap and tell her stories of ulysses or clinton, or something like that…

good night, my little flower children, go forth and spread your seed…

and later in the evening

the musical flavors continue to amuse my auditory taste buds as i work my way through the cd stacks as i unpack the bags of sounds and the semi-randomness of words flit through the synapses invigorating the spirit/soul/anima thing, the ethereal me, as only songs can... even with thousands of recordings up in storage for years and hundreds left behind and stolen over the years, there are still many stacks piling up around me as i find more and more bags of sounds as i gradually (and ever so slowly) unpack (i might be completely unpacked by the time it is time to decide where to move next at the end of this year's lease, but hopefully a bit sooner if i decide to change life around something majorly)...

as i forgot a title a couple or few entries ago, i forgot the whole entry over in (e)thereal tonight, but it was remembered (though something was lost in translation) and so the flowology of the daily moments blending together in thereal continues even as they fly by faster than anyone can keep up (even me?... maybe... i wouldn't know unless someone tried for a while, after all)... ah, the old story, can't tell how fast i can go until someone passes and inspires me to want to catch up... would be a very different perspective for me...

until then, pass the chocolate mousse and fudge sticks and don't forget the chocolate shake... though we skipped the shake tonight, being that the windows are open and it's dropping down to winter temperatures tonight... luckily, i finally bought myself a comforter and the last few nights has been an interesting experience consciously and unconsciously (and subconsciously as well) cuz the body has survived the same year-round temperature changes with no more than a sheet for many years... must be weird on the inside these days...

see, this blog is not completely babbling, cuz, after all, the curtains have opened behind the candoor once again and so the babbler has a home there, so there's less compulsion to take over this bit of web space... could be an identity crisis will be (or perhaps already is based on the changes to the opening introductory descriptive stuff up top and on the right sidebar) happening around here as the human experiment seems to have been having some success, in spite of the scoffing and laughter from the peanut gallery who still think the hero will win in the end and more to the point, that this body will respond as it always did before yesterday when it was young when i finally decide to kick it back into high gear, my gear, oh dear, why fear, just cuz the normal human dies at that energy level beyond a certain age and i have gone so far in becoming what passes as a normal human, i think, but then,. that's my perspective for you and i don't have any other to reflect upon these days...

what?... yes, so anyway, the weekend is just about over... this stupid system of working at tasks that are distractions from the purpose of living for five days a week and then trying to unwind and relax and remember what living is about for two brief days and by the time you just may be getting a fleeting glimpse of yourself and what your life is really all about, it's time to get back to working at those distractions... is really stupid, actually...

but then, the owners believe that the slaves would go crazy or something if they were permitted the time to really get in touch with themselves and each other, so the system is set up to keep us all so busy worrying about other stuff that we never even realize we are slaves manipulated by the owners...

the owners probably are right, but that does not make them right...

of course they've got all the moral righteousness and rules and laws and stuff on their side cuz they wrote the books, after all... and god, let's not forget the god they invented to keep us in our place... luckily i am not read much, so i probably won't be noticed or considered any real threat to their power cuz the fact is, if they erased every small voice crying out in the wilderness, then sooner or later they'd slip up and leave some trail of their deeds and the buzz would start and a second coming of a rebel without a cause could upset their apple carts just enough to make them adjust their glasses or actually have to reinvent the wheel as they have a few times in human history and most of them want no part of that task...

did i disclaim the babbler's presence here earlier?... oh, how he delights to prove me wrong, aye?... and the peanut gallery dance and sing ha ha naa naa nyuk nyuk narf... cuz that's their favorite song of celebration for the moment... i suppose it would be quite an unruly world if everybody started getting into themselves and contemplating the meaning of life and letting their peanut galleries start singing their favorite songs of the moment... but then, chaos is the natural order of the universe, even if humans pretend that is beyond their comprehension at this time...

i do appreciate you being round, by the way, even if i write as thought you are not there and nobody's home and it really doesn't matter cuz the fingers have minds of their own and the babbler babbles in an apparent social vacuum... your strength and fortitude and dedication and loyalty and understanding that finds some reason to stay and respond now and then is a credit to your brain, you should know, and you heart too... i suppose i write as if i am not here just as much, as well, even...

so it is later in the evening and i am going to sleep soon and i just wanted to release some of the stuff floating around the grey matter, for whatever it may be worth outside of the head... may you be amused or at least feel like you did not waste your time reading... feel good about yourself and your continued recurring nightmares or visits to this humble human lair, you are amazing...

not everybody recognizes genius, after all...

nyuk nyuk narf :)

hard core reality or self pity?

ok, so get real with what you feel was once the theme of a website i started creating about ten years ago and i wonder if i ever got there and one of the prevailing questions was is it really hard core getting real or is it just self-pity? and a question came to mind just tonight that took me back to that theme...

simply, the query begins like this... if i am a person of value, a person worth knowing and loving, then why am i alone...

and then, it continues to ponder why no one cares enough to tell others of my potential, value, worth, so i might actually connect with someone...

so reality tells me i am not the worthwhile partner i think i am... reality is nobody thinks i am any sort of good catch or person someone else really should meet... so i am not special, not impressing anyone as a good partner, provider, lover, friend, whatever... cuz if i was anything worth knowing, i'd be connecting with others through people who know me and find value in me...

not that i am looking to be set up on dates or any such ridiculous expectation rituals that humans seem to demand of each other (such as the desperate ones who can not stand being alone and out of a relationship for more than a week without a total meltdown of self-esteem and sanity)... i am mostly happy i do not have family demanding conformity (they gave up on me long ago) expecting me to marry and provide children for their pleasure and normalcy... but the introductions of any kind simply do not happen to me...

is everyone i know just selfish and either want me alone so they can have my attention or are they selfish keeping any potential compatible friend or partner to themselves or are they just not caring if i ever partner or are they just seeing no worth or value in me and would not recommend me to anyone... the fact is, that last part, that nobody recommends me to anyone else, is the reality of life and has been for a long long time...

i don't feel like i am feel sorry for myself (and i am a professional at throwing pity-parties (as you may know too well already)... so what's up... or wrong... what stops people who know me from recommending me to others as a friend or even as a potential relationship partner, no less life partner?...

maybe it's the music...

or the sarcasm :)

maybe it is because i am genuinely so happy that people think i need no relationship, lover, or maybe they think i must have someone to share life daily because i'd be lonely and mention it if i didn't... or is that just a facade i wear so well that people do not realize i am lonely and want someone to love (should i wear the queen song lyrics on a t-shirt every day?)... or maybe nobody cares about who i am or how i feel or what i want or what i do or knowing me at all...

huh? :)

so hard core reality is i am alone and nobody is interested in coming closer, knowing me better, sharing intimacy, or even introducing me to someone who might be compatible... and self-pity is crying boo hoo hoo all the way home like one of the little piggies... or something like that...

so what else is new? :)

dang, forgot a title again

as the mars volta carry this really distorted distended (and bloated) body across the cd cover (not to mention fill the ears with stimulation) and papaya slithers down the esophagus, another strange and wonderful night begins midstream with our hero waking after turning in early as the body requested and oooo, the feeling is almost just right (if only the bloat was not so ever present, aye?) and so much better than the average 2am stumble out of the typical night spot with nothing but a soon to be pounding head to keep you company as you hope for a few hours sleep before the rush of the normal daily routine... well, you don't know what you're missing in the never ending time traveling life you're missing, but i'm here to tell you all about it for posterity's sake, cuz posterity cares, you know that don't you?... just look at how it's taken care of the greeks and romans and jesus, yup, posterity cares about the people who write a lot... or people who have a lot written about them... yeah, that's it, posterity cares about the words... hey, i care about words... me and posterity have a lot in common...

nobody knows we're there (oooo, slipped that one right by you, aye?)...

if you are wondering what, or why, or where and when, even, no worries, we'll be on to a completely different irreverent and confusing series of almost topics any moment now and you can relieve yourself as you please during the intermission... so starting off in the real, or at least stepping closer to it with these words, another day at the workplace and accomplishments galore, though still not as much as if i had a laptop there, so their loss cuz my productivity goes down every month (and everybody thinks it's going up and tells me to tone it down, streamline, and all that great supportive encouragement most misunderstood geniuses get... see, i've laid a lot of groundwork with spreadsheets and databases and can spit out reports that baffle just about everybody, so they think i'm doing a lot of work, and i am, but just not what i could be doing in less time...

and i'm getting two part time assistants trained in dazzling fashion (they are training each other) while i am doing the meetings and fancy dancing and enjoying the autonomy and growing respect, however begrudgingly given, and don't look now, but tomorrow i just may rock the boat just to see who stands up and points fingers at who should be the first to fall out (you do see the irony of standing up and getting over-excited in a boat already rocking, don'tcha?).... people really do not understand the humor of irreverence too well, especially when they are afraid of their shadows, as so many are... shadows can be so amusing, if they only knew...

so anyway, i hope you shared a good night with someone you love and if not, well, i hope you prefer to sleep alone and if not, well, i hope you find someone you are comfortable sleeping with soon, and if not, i hope you made the best of your love, your dreams, and your time alone...

so what can we say about all the words poured out all over the place without any real focus or drive (yes, even if you found all twenty or so entries sprinkled all about the web, from my perspective it was a lazy babbler and only semi-motivated muse this weekend, certainly not any level of excitement to write home about, but then, there's been no home for so long, and that was just imaginary when it did exist for real, get it?... yes, i must say (without the alfalfa hair-do or waggle in the wiggle, this weekend cuz of all the interruptions, but at least the brain has a little more room for the rest of the week or so and hopefully i'll find either the person who can take a mind-meld (which is so much more effective and more fun than a mind dump) or i will find time for an even better mind dump real soon (cuz a constipated mind is a stinky think to waste)... historically (and hysterically), december has always been a good month for the babbler (and the heart of the matter), though i must make time as activities are too readily available if i do not get a little selfish with my me time, ya know?...

i leave you with lots of words for you to catch up on in at least a dozen different places and even more pages, if you find the time... if not, maybe next life... and if you happen to bump into someone who you might think can keep up with me and is crazy enough to be kind of compatible with me, do give them my number... listening to the music, the sheer diversity suggests that there must be somebody out there who has similar enough genes and physical development and mental capitulators and emotional capacitators and thereal connections and the rest of whatever is needed to relate and bond with me, wherever i may be... and while i am not one to invest everything in any one rationality (no less logic), except, of course, love, which may or may not be a dichotomy or hypocritical oath, i embrace the delights and divines and de dreams that the monsters of the board rooms may never understand... so please take much thanks and love and wonderfulness and make the same and more today in your world :)

napped and woke (obviously)

i supposed the word napped, being in the past tense, infers that i woke, unless of course the word is used in such a way to state i did not wake from my nap, such as napped and never woke again or died while he napped, which could make the claim of obvious inference an assumption, but then, we are bored if we are slicing the language that thin (grammar nazi in the house?)... did anybody say obvious inference?...

yes, well, obviously i am awake again (again with the obviously, is anything really obvious?)... even more to the point, i am bored... a dream woke me, which makes the second time in recent memory, probably the second time this year and longer, and it was another less than pleasant dream, another violation of personal space and privacy situation... a homeless guy with obvious (ahem) provocation issues was using a similar physical passive aggressive approach as the guy in the other dream that woke me... in either case, it was legal battery, however the police tend to overlook it and respond only if the victim reacts in a more aggressive manner, which most victims of passive aggressive physical battery do... the law is so chauvinist and warped for man's preferences and weaknesses that it's virtually worthless unless severely violated... but that's another story, obviously... i wonder if the concept of the dream is borne of repressed memories of some childhood abuse returning to haunt me... r/o ptsd?...

who knows if i am serious... your punishment for not being right here next to me is i never tell... until i tell, obviously, but then, sometimes i just don't want to tell cuz it's more fun to keep secrets... there's got to be something to make it worth it for the one to actually want to be next to me instead of living life somewhere else and just being the one ethereally, right?... oohhhh. am i getting like some sort of serious or heavy or deep tonight or something?...

whatever, it's night time now and my circadian rhythm wants me to stay awake all night and do something fun... since the world is pretty unanimous about sleeping all night (except where commercial incentives are present, like vegas, for instance), i am alone again and from the human standpoint, naturally... thank you gilbert o'sullivan...

yes, so it is night and i just woke we've established that, i suppose, so i suppose it is becoming obvious?... obviously?)... i thought i might sleep through the night, but that dream woke me (rare second time in the past month, aye?... maybe it really is time to get my head shrunk?... but who could possibly handle that task around here, or anywhere for that matter... the line forms at the door) and i want to share, play, do something fun, party, or something like that... but i am alone, as usual for this century, so i write...

did you see my latest quotable personal bio-wisdom?... it's at the bottom of (e)thereal and balances the concept of the patheticness of the life online syndrome with patheticness of the vegetative tv zombie syndrome and offer's my alternative... i fill the web with words when all the world's asleep cuz no one stays awake with me (peter, john, james, or anybody, ya know?) and rather than sleep more than necessary alone, i do what i love to do nobody is around, i write... it's the next best thing to sharing, after all (obviously?... well, it is obvious to a writer, and i don't mean just published writers, i mean anyone who knows or has felt the draw of words {get it?... draw words?} , the urge for literary expression, the compulsion to write... maybe it's something in the social genes or maybe it's a synaptic loop or some other explanation that would make sense to those who require rational reasons for everything, but for those of us who write, we know we don't have to know or understand, we just do it)...

the written language is a relatively recent phenomenon, after all... i mean, just a few thousand years, probably much less, and along about four hundred years ago languages were still just forming in europe and as far as this usa english i use, it's what?... probably less than a century old, so we are pioneers creating written language as we use it... heck, my peculiar brand may be something historians will refer to as a major change (downfall, perhaps, but then, who knows) in the written language of humanity, or at least for usa english... but there i go with those darn delusions of grandiosity again... silly boy, the rock's been perched up there for a hundred thousand years...

so i just came by to wave hello in case you were up late too and wanted to talk... i mean anybody, not just the one...not that i want to talk on the phone, cuz my brain definitely wants to play much more than the phone can offer, so if you call please expect me to be playing something else on the net or in physical space while you are on speaker... the phone is definitely too restrictive for the hands and especially if i must hold it to an ear... but i'll never know when some nearby neighbor stumbles across my babbles and decides it is finally time to knock on the door, even after midnight...


...pause to anticipate the eerie chills of a knock...

.

.

.

.

.



no such luck, alas, of course, naturally, obviously, we live within human rules, after all... but i am out here waving at you anyway, so if you understand, you can drop a few words of support and whatever any way you'd like, or just smile and let me know we exist after midnight, even if the human rule says all god's children should be home in bed, chaste and pure and fast asleep... i am obviously on the wrong planet...

this is the real, my way... especially on a day off where vegetation took precedence over any other activities... you know, here i sit so all alone, nobody to talk to, a silent phone, or something like that... i wrote it in my infancy, for the few who might remember... whippoorwills must be about tonight (as are understatements, aye?... thanks for caring)...

wow, sarcasm, but was it obvious?...

how about my laughter?...

i am so dang independently secure (yeah, more than ever) that i suck at this lonely days stuff even when i am feeling a profound bout of the lonelies drowning me... i just imagine growing gills and swimming around with the fish and whatever else might be under the sea... the weightlessness of under water life would be a great relief from gravity, actually... but i am lonely, dammit, lonely as i've ever been (and as a few of you may know, i have been powerfully lonely in this life)... i don't feel as mostly dead as i used to though, so the lazy pity party isn't coming, just the silly babble pretending there's no way out of some imaginary death-trap deep dark abyss of depression or something (ever wonder what lives in the black holes?)...

but somebody must hear me and understand and be feeling alone like this... maybe i am just not reaching enough of the seven billion people on the planet... obviously, but even more obviously, i am probably not beaming my personal energy and identity into space for the other planetary peoples to find... but i don't get invited to the interplanetary parties much anymore... they must have taken my depressive whining seriously or something and mistaken me for a human... omigosh, what have i done?... no wonder i feel like a who on this planet shouting out i am here i am here i am here over and over again... where's my horton when i need him?... a space horton, obviously...

so what else is new?... maybe i'll wander down for a rare trip to the gym (after being off work for six days, i decide it might be a good time for a 2am visit to the gym on the night i am to return to work... can there be any more obvious signs of the rebel-child being alive and kicking in me?)... yeah, i am obviously going through a phase that few have experienced with me, i think... the child inside is testing the limits again and it gets more dangerous with each passing year... does anybody care, he silently ponders as he looks out on the world from the top of some precarious cliff, balanced ever so casually as if the fall will be just another adventure...

i was reading the thelemapedia today and was reminded of the last words attributed to Rabelais "I am off to a great perhaps" (or something like that) but most of all, was reminded of the folly of human minds attempting to control other human minds through ritual and rules of behavior and even more ridiculous, through rules of thought, as if the individual human mind could not (or should not) think for itself... as much as there are valuable lessons in the words of every written path, the inevitable conflicts and detrimental effects of such loyalties and enemies, inclusions and exclusions, and complexities of rules divide and weaken the doctrine and therein, the human experience... but as i seek someone to play with and ultimately, when sleep comes, to curl up with tonight, we all seek what we feel we need at any given moment in life... i still laugh with the concept and wonder of R's quote though... and now, this entry is obviously a classic, even though i didn't mention shakespeare...

obviously...

maybe i meant obliviously?...

well, tomorrow is another workday, so have fun :)

continuing to continue

and what happened instead (referring to yesterday's entry) was i slept (cuz just in case you didn't notice the sudden emergence of a bunch of entries in the past week, that's what i did last night... loving the futility of buying these internet the-one-will-find-me lottery tickets, aye?)... and woke and went back to sleep and then went to play softball... i know i did other things, yes, i did... i paid some bills and did some other stuff, housekeeping and the business of life kind of stuff, and of course i masturbated... it is still a frequent fun, i just don't mention it daily cuz, after all, this blog is not about showing off my sexual prowess (as if masturbating a few times a day might?... oh, the self-mockery bites the big one, aye?) and perhaps you nice folk out there are not all that interested in the frequency, sperm count, or gymnastics involved... after all, we're a prudish culture, we usa folk... i'll save the naked photos for my european blog...

after softball, as if nothing was askew, we went out to the local wing house where the small perky breasts and wings and thighs were cooked to order... we won the first game 10-9 with a come back in the bottom of the seventh inning and moved ahead to the next round of the playoffs where we had to play the best team, the team that has not lost a game in four years... we jumped out to a 3-0 lead and held them in the first, but they tied it up 3-3 in the second... they went ahead 4-3 in the third and then they broke it open with 7 runs in the 4th... the final score as 11-3 after six innings, so we did better than most teams against them, but they march on with more than 30 wins in a row... they really ought to be in a higher level league... so the monday night season is over and that leaves thursdays for a few more weeks... and sunday practices and a surprise saturday game organized by a meetup group...

i drank no beer tonight, which is a pattern i must continue for numerous reasons, not the least of which being i am way over enjoying alcohol, never liked the taste of beer, definitely do not need the extra calories, and the liver and kidneys have been marinated quite enough for one life time... hopefully the team won't mind much as they seem to really love their beer... i mean, i am all for team spirit and want to belong and share the experience and all that, but i'm gonna walk the healthier low-calorie path as much as possible, so there... and home i ate some popcorn and exchanged comments here and there and then, did the usual mind-dumps (blogging is the best thing for the cluttered mind, even if it is a waste of time for most everything else :)

and that's what's going on in RealTime™

how about yours? :)

and finally, almost

years pass... and yet, the feeling of the bitter rain stinging the skin, the taste of the near frozen tears, the bone-chilling wind ripping through the clothing, all this, and the wave of numbness enveloping me from the inside out... years can not make such visceral memories pass... for the experience of such intensity is not forgotten without some physical brain damage and for better or worse, in spite of years of experimenting with chemicals and alcohols and mind altering experiences, no such sufficient brain damage has occurred for me...

this entry was postponed by hours on the phone... when i wake tomorrow, perhaps the magic of the moment will reappear as it has not in recent years... meanwhile, the music was added (finally, though other songsa fit there too) and four entries flashed by here in the blink of your eye, so feel free to explore while waiting for me to get back to this...