all through the nights...

sometimes I claim, write, even, that I know why I do what I do, specifically, in this case, why I continue to continue to create new blog spaces to continue to continue to ramble on in different, but probably more the same ways instead of simply writing in the same blog space year after year and there could be much validity in the primal instinct for change that is quite strong in me, which may also be one reason I am alone in the world and not committed to one person, though I truly believe I would have been had she wanted me to be all those years ago, but that’s another story and this sentence probably has way too many commas as it is, so I probably ought to continue the thought that I was starting out to explore in the next paragraph, if I can find it again…

the bruises don’t help the focus either, but that’s still yet even another story (and I am not even referring to gavin friday this time, though after thinking of the thought the thought could be thought at this point and related to the concept and theme and point, whatever it was, in spite of the intent of the reference did not at first refer to the thought, for whatever this explanatory parathetic aside might be worth to anyone… and do we long for a connection to every thought?... of course we do, that is why we babble and post the babbling here and there are everywhere, but that’s not the answer to the query that might be the point of this entry if we ever find our way back to it again)…

yes, the continued continuation of continued movement of the location, online, that is, of the babbling has some purpose, purposes even, and I have explored the reasons before, but the explorations continue because that’s the nature of babbling and exploring ever seeking the bottom line when there are many bottom lines… always looking for the right one and the right way (and place and time) to find the right one, aka the one for the long term word junkies among us, simply, is the deepest root cause that draws the ever spreading word and infinitely tossed messages in bottles (infinite directions, that is) cuz if the message touches every atomic particle in every universe, then maybe the one will finally get the message that it’s about time we hooked up and set off the fireworks and lived happily ever after…

apparently I have not touched the right atomic particle yet…

yeah, so anyway, as we gather here at this magical mystery (and rather delusional, but that’s beside the point) time of year (no accounting for the rational queries in the television show lie to me, which is, ironically, what most humans seem to want most of all in so many ways that it makes life relatively meaningless, if it was to have any meaning in the first place (we we gathering for something?... oh, well, there was probably a point within the point within this paragraph within this entry, so maybe starting yet another new paragraph will help us get wherever it may be we might be going)…

huh?...

the wrist and elbow really hurts a lot, more than the knee, and I apologize to the concerned and interested for the continued real world real time physical reference distractions within the asides and other distractions but the poor wrist is so dang thin and fragile, just like the other extremities, when compared with the bloated belly and meaty torso and this current pain is bringing this realization back to the surface and has the trainer in my head shaking his head (which is an interesting visual if you see it) wondering why someone as aware and enlightened and once all there as I am and was is allowing the lazy apathy and ridiculous ambivalence and just plain stupidity interfere with the physical actualization I could be maintaining in this life, not that the wrist would hurt less, but I might not have fallen in the first place…

meanwhile, the tv drones on and on about the trivial references to celebrity lives and I am occasionally listening out of loneliness and occasionally glancing up just for the visual stimuli (not just for the libido, but the libido has been neglected for some time, but much more imagination than libbo calls out from the dark deep depths of my mind for more attention and leaping into the more real world of shared fantasy, there are lots of movies I want to see (wanna come along?) and I am still hoping for more from the harry potter series (and not just cuz of my love of characters, long live the child inside) because so far the films have short changed the books and the culture still seems to me to be so perverse in puritanical sexually repression (this thought popped up after seeing the stats at google about how many people googled emma watson’s underwear last year, (and seriously, is david letterman a pandering {or just still living the young boy dream cuz he can like so many way-too-wealthy people?} or what?), we don’t live in the future yet, after all… I mean, it gets cold in canada and sex’ll keep a body warm, even without a partner…

whatever this entry was going to be, it’ll have to continue another time as I am going to give the brain and body an hour or two of sleep now so tomorrow (later today, actually) will not be as challenging at the desk…

keep digging, you’ll get there sooner or later :)

celebrations

mostly, i celebrate love... and these days, with no romantic love outside of music and shows and fantasies and dreams (and you oughta know there is a plethora of those in me), the love of friends is the source of celebrations... and while these days, i do not write nearly as much as i usually have in this life, there are still brief moments when i let a friend know i celebrate them and that's what i include below, a letter to a friend...

no worries, i shall get back to the skeleton entry any day now, or someday, but for the moment, this entries celebrates today because every day should be celebrated and i've not been celebrating here in RealTime as often as i used to (haven't cut the time i spend writing and having learned to be brief in my two daily blogs (yes, shameless plugs and pleas for attention, naturally, but mysteriously omitting the easy linkage so often presented for your convenience just to test your mettle, interest, heart, and mess with you... or is that simply laziness on my part that should be the source of an apology or sorts... well, if only to further the mystery, i shall not tell tonight... but besides the two brief daily blogs that can be found by googling e-the-real or bullsugar {shhh, i didn;t, i know} there are two video blogs growing in dribs and drabs {and the excitement continues to build} that are so very clever, i must say... find them if you dare, nyuk, nyuk) that carry the torch of this and all the blogs, journals, diaries, and babbles that have come before, these days)... for the moment, a sharing of the clebration of friends...

i woke up today after sleeping for more hours than i usually sleep and checked email and decided that i wanted to say thank you to you, so thank you royce...

for what?... i mean, just in case you wondered... for being you, first... you are a precious burst of positive energy in this world of negative crap, convoluted reason, and ridiculously over-empowered fear... and also, even more personally, for your effervescent respect and seriously irreverent worship of me (cuz it is all about me too)... i figured today was a good day to appreciate worship since so many are doing it for those other guys...

most seriously (sort of, cuz i must slip irreverent asides into every bit of seriousness i create in this world or else the world might explode and besides, it's in my contract), you seem to see something in me that others do not see... i think... and i am not exactly sue what that is and i am not exactly sure if i am reading more into your respect for me than there is, but hey, my ego is enormous and quite delusional, so i generally err toward the side of omnipotent grandeur when receiving any sort of praise or respect cuz, after all, why not make the most of each moment and every little thing in this life (not a question, actually, but then, i hear god works in mysterious ways and who am i to question hearsay, no doubt, nyuk nyuk narf :),

if this bit of appreciation brings some cheer into your day, then yay and more power to words... one of these days, or more likely way past midnight, i'd like to really get to know you and why you chose me to worship from all the other false gods out here in this universe... and not just for the ego strokes, ya know...

and no fair telling me that i already know, because it's not a present from you if i give it to myself...

yes, i specialize in catch-23s, which is what happens to a catch-22 when it appears to be resolved but really is just moving on to the next realm of insoluble (or unsolvable) conundrums (that are usually quite amusing and often positive... i bet you can hardly wait until we get to catch 24s or, for the really imaginative hopelessly hopeful among us, catch-42s :)

festive friday, my friend... i appreciate you more than i usually say and look forward to our next in-depth discussion of whatever comes to mind... and also the mindless play, that's important too...

honest love,
ric

see, posting my ever so clever personal letters here let's me see that i am not nearly so clever as i think i am (or am i?... well, craig ferguson fans might think so {or would they?... hmmmm} hmmmm) hmmmm....

amusing photos would help, but i am simply not so well equipt as some photo bloggers in the world these days, so these days, i continue to celebrate in words and hope you appreciate the written word as much as i do (like anybody could, huh, not with my ridiculously self-engrandizing ego, aye?)...

yeah, so anyway, long live RealTime :)

and love to you too :)

skeleton of an entry

yes, the links below form the skeleton of an entry that will be written someday and until then, the links lead to many entries that will help to flesh out this one... reaching back into the closets over the past ten years of rambling online, this might be considered part one of this series yet to be written... the skeleton of part one of the series yet to be written...



privacy

not all just bullsugar

origins
intros
writing
music

journal
local
orlando
others
philosophy
work

images
red
god
war

threads of emotion

i am not sure how it is for you or others as i do not live in your bodies or experience your life, but i find this life to be held in memory as a tapestry, a painting, a story from beginning to end and most of my most intense memories are vivid threads of emotion that do not fade with time... when talking to others, this seems to be unique to my experience of life in the brain in the head on the shoulders of this body... most people seem to let much of their past fade away or somehow disconnect from their memory...

i imagine that to be a rather superficial, empty experience of life, but then, it is all a matter of perspective...

for me, something will trigger a thread and take me back to the moments the memory was first created and i have some as far back to when i was three years old or earlier... mila kunis does that for me (and not just visually, though she is a top few libido fantasy, speaking of which, how am I going to react to black swan in which two {yes, natalie portman {though she does have issues a bit and seems a bit uptight to libbo} is another and come to think of it, wynona ryder is in that too and she’s at least in the top hundred or so} of my most recent top five libido fantasies kiss?... jealousy, turn on, even I don’t know… yes, libido does have an active fantasy life and more so, I am well aware it is pure fantasy… that’s what makes it so harmlessly guilt-free and enjoyable, after all… of course either of you are welcome to come over and share a laugh over my libido anytime, I mean, just in case you stopped by to read this bit of babble about you… meanwhile, there was something going on outside of this parenthetic libido fantasy aside so let’s get back to that now, whatever it was) as she reminds me of amy, one of the first who met initial criteria to be the one in this life and that brings me to wherever I might have been going before I got distracted finding links to slip into this paragraph…

ummmmm…

yeah, memories…

or libido fantasy, which are very closely linked in the brain and someday, science will confirm what libbo always knew, that we can all be quite ridiculously simple (and some cal it base, vulgar, or some other derogatory tern mostly because they are afraid of themselves, especially their own bodies and the sensuality they can feel… very sad, if you take an objective enlightened perspective… but anyway, that just leads to the pedophilic quality of most sexuality in our culture as the repression leads to secretive lusts for innocents, those ignorant of sexuality so they won’t acknowledge the learned fears and judgments and force hypocrisy closer to the surface, which is a real buzz kill for sex…

still, this entry was not meant to be about sex, it was to be about memory, and yet, the fact that this is related to the specific memory of the person who turned me on most in the actual physical experience in this entire life, naturally libbo pops up (entendre not actually intended)… more than all the sexuality in the world, however, is the depths of turn on that are ethereal (spiritual, emotional, intellectual… in other words, non-physical and much more profoundly lasting than the touches)… and while mila and Natalie have major qualities for libbo and mila is so much a memory of the first face/body to turn me on past all limits, natalie’s harvard education is more appealing to my mind… which brings me, however randomly, to harry potter…

yes, ok, I confess am a harry potter fan and while it is not just cuz of the schoolboy crush I have on the hermione character (not so much the real life emma watson, though I am amused by her public diddlings, for instance:

Child star Emma Watson teases the libido with her vagina (not that anyone would focus on three seconds out of a ten minute interview, right?) but it is for a good cause, after all, and it certainly doesn’t hurt her career. At least she does keep her sense of humor about it.

but seriously, now, if actresses did not want to tease for publicity and their career, why would any wear mini-skirts on talk shows when the slightest movement will flash panty (isn’t that the purpose of mini-skirts or skirts anyway?... I mean, to ever so innocently {without meaning to, of course, like the decision to not wear pants or a long skirt or even underwear [no, no links to brittany today] was accidental} tease with sexuality?)…

yeah, well, all I can say in my irreverent way is… good thing she doesn’t live in turkey), though I would love to meet a real life girl like Hermione, it is the experience of being orphaned and unwanted and making it anyway that grabs me most personally…

oh, was I writing a serious sentence about myself that got out of hand?... if you are not laughing with me, you missed the whole point (and may want a different government (or treatment for paranoia) and if you are upset or outraged or disgusted (you may not be enjoying life to it's fullest due to your fear that you don't have enough control over yourself or whatever and spent most of your time worrying about how to convince others that they should be afraid enough to spend their time fighting to change things that are mostly in your mind or meaningless in day to day real life, but then, i {or anything, in fact} could be wrong), you will probably have ulcers someday if you don’t already do… I write for the non-judgmental fools like me :)

returning to the original point, perhaps, or closer to the core, if nothing else, it is the intellect portrayed by the hermione character that is the real turn on… emma and mila and so some extent, Natalie as well have the physical body that appeals most to libbo, but then, so do many thousands of others easily viewed on the internet or in life (though much more easily viewed on the internet, which shows how visually dependent libidos and emotions may have become on the internet in recent years and how that effects our affects and changes the social dynamics of human relations could be a fascinating course of study if I ever decided to find the time to return for more advanced studied in institutions of higher learning, or simply did it on my own)… libbo is way too easily satisfied, even mine, which is way narrower in criteria than the norms, but that’s libbo’s story and this entry was not supposed to be about libbo, so moving right along…

today amy turns another year older so I gathered all this here to say…

happy birthday amy

I do not know where all the other stuff came from :)

you are such a cool one, you are…

this entry box was empty thought the title confession can't even find the soul was sitting up there waiting for words and a few rhymes elsewhere distracted me that may have had something to do with the title, but the entry that flowed (just below) may not have anything to do with it so a whole new title formed in it’s place and that’s the story and I’m stuck to it…

how about you?...

yeah baby, austin powers has nothing on you… and here in the madness of babble-land, in RealTime™ and all, we just want to continue… and continue, speaking of continuing, the babbler is continuing to sneak moments from the busy race of life and work and play to pop a paragraph or few out of the blue into e-thereal just about daily, almost eleven hundred entries worth of highs and lows and life and dreams and thoughts and feelings frivolous and profound and all the fun of the fair and more, the stuff of stars you used to come here to read so often, dear friends, dear readers, and lately, a second helping of daily drivel meant to be even more tongue in cheek (but who knows where the shadow marks the moments of most fun or deepest meaning, no less) in the space called bullsugar (yes, after almost one hundred entries it is time to actually introduce the place, aye?... so when do we get to meet the other half dozen that started even more recently?... what?)…

oh, you can, if you wish, find the secrets confession might never reveal in watching the video me, at least until I actually decide to do my own videos, if I ever do, and the selections I put into random pop culture must reveal some deep rooted psychobabblical secrets and disturbances, or something else not exactly spoken (or written, to be more precise) in words…

yes, all my doing, creative or not, and so much more just here at blogspot and then, still more in the written gardens on the web… did you ever enter through the main gate, front door, or back door?... someday I’ll fix the broken window meant for true friends to climb through and maybe you will find me again (do you hear the moody blues too?)…


all I ever wanted was to love and be loved
to trust someone unconditionally
and to know someone trust me just as much
to share everything completely
it may all be too romantic for this world
but it’s more than a fairy tale to me
whatever you believe, I believe in love
and I believe that is the best we can be


oh I am so obviously slippery in my quest for the one and your attention, no doubt, it may just be time to change the subject cuz I’m once again approaching chocoelated… I never said I wouldn’t complain (but it’s about time I formally made a place for it, aye?) … oh so slippery… coy, even :)

yes, alas, and soap too, somewhere amidst almost every line of babble is the dream, the serious hopelessly hopeful romantic dream of sharing the infinitely endless falling in love sharing everything completely openly and honestly with the one who can and wants to do it all, share it all, and become all for me and make me all for her… two become one in this dream, not losing each other, but finding each other, enchanting and enhancing each other, and re-creating each other better than either would ever be without the other… the magic of love…

yeah, so with all I’ve been doing in life, softball in six or seven different leagues with as many teams, though only two taken truly seriously and those two won championships this year (yay 2009)… and lots of game nights and other parties, some through the meetup and some with friends not met through the internet… concerts and shows (way too many to list, but most amazingly magical experiences as music and theatre can be)… dinners galore (and the body weight dropped and rose and dropped and rose accordingly, though I am still on my way down to the most comfortable weight again in spite of a rise this holiday season)… much work as the director level crap of corporate america does demand a whole lot of time and energy in the private sector, but still enjoying the challenges and loving the number crunching and continued learning (cuz I’m such a techie geek at heart, aye?)… and lots more fun, but through it all, still not falling in love, sigh, alas, and giddity (narf)…

so while the bulk of the sheep-like humans like vicariously through tv and the soap opera news media (and what happened in tiger’s world today?... if you know, get a life, aye?), I keep hope alive (and eyes open, we hope) for the magical wonder of the one while I enjoy the moments and all the fun of the fair and do/be (do-be doo) the best I can be while still compromising by as i indulge the sensory pleasures with hedonistic zeal cuz that’s what it’s all about, yay…

with a bit of writing slipped in :)

so what’s up (or down or turned around) in your world these days?... I know reaching me is not as simple as it used to me, partly because I’ve been burned enough to not jump for human contact as I once did, but mostly because I am so busy working and playing and enjoying the immediate moments in the physical life within and all around me here in time and space… still, my number is right there on the side of the page if you want to leave a message (I will call back if you let me know who you are, but I usually don’t answer the phone if I don’t know the number these days thanks to the crap target is pulling over a disputed charge on my now cancelled account, but that’s another story for the complaint department if I ever find the time)…

the secret way to communicate, in case you've been away for a while and missed the techie revolution, is that if you text (yes, as in text message) then i'll add your number and you won't be unknown and i'll answer when i am not otherwise engaged at work or play...

who knows, you may be the one (or know her or otherwise somehow make some magical moments, even if it is only one, in this life for both of us)… after all, there’s much laughter and wonder and magic and love still to be shared :)

merry happy end of year :)

repeat business

the later it gets, the wackier the mood, the zanier the rhetoric (except that even on the fartiest night, everyone sells out sometimes, like kissing paris hilton’s buttocks or breasts as if she is some sort of american treasure, but then, the british have their royals and many cultures have relatively meaningless distraction or figurative idol who giggles or preaches or plays a fiddle or dies on a cross or something like that…

has this blog has degenerated from it’s roots or beginnings or is it getting better?... the music is silently slipping away into the internet ethers, the undiscovered links breaking without notice, the pandering poised for oblivion… but what you came here for was not this sort of profoundly pointless drivel, you likely clicked on the link that said here, so here:

Dear Zoe,

Suffering from slow-internetitis, I am waiting for a few of your stories to open and while I do, I drop these words into your box in the hope you might find them amusing, if not stimulating (for some of us, they need to be both to be both, after all). That was not initially intended to be a double-entendre, but feel free to accept it as you wish. In my on-again, off-again supposedly daily ramblings in this loosely public forum of cyberspace, I happened upon an Aussie artist (does html work in your box?... yes, the gray words below the box tell me now that I look) who reminded me of you not simply by nationality but also because I feel certain that you understand deep down, how scary it is to be fragile in this world even as you have an amazing strength and resiliency as well and might relate to the song) because when I think of my favorite people online from down under, you always pop up (fact is, when I think of how cleverly adorable language can be or who my favorites writers are, you come to mind in both cases, but enough needless ego stroking from the fawning fan in me, I was actually writing to complain)...

Yes, I have a complaint outside of the parenthetic tangents... Look, I am even using capital I and other capital letters, which is a sure sign of the formality of this communication (even as I mock myself, cuz in the end, self-mockery is much more fun than seriousness and if we can't have fun, it's just not worth it, whatever it is)... of course my penchance for ellipses remains... penchance?... whatever... right, like, perchance, I might look it up… so much for a faux-penchant for formality… no wonder I don’t publish or have much of a following, aye?...

the mind wanders a bit as I am still waiting for my sad internet connection to open the page that might explain why I have this complaint (I’m getting to it), so you can either blame the internet speed of the ATT Aircard or accept that my adoration for you simply spills out into mindless babble at the thought of actually attempting some sort of real serous meaningful potentially lasting communication with you (as if comments can be considered real serious meaningful potentially lasting communication… but then, there’s always hope, as I always hope) simply because you are that irresistible, in the literary sense, at least…

Perhaps I should give up on waiting for the page to open and simply complain… yes, well, ok, this is my complaint… even with my tongue in my cheek, it is a real complaint… so treat it as such (which probably means mock it in public cuz you do that so well, which is just one of the things I love about your way with words, even as I digress once again thinking that it might be altogether too lame a complaint within an even more lame comment to actually be worthy of your sharp wit and scathing oratory or any sort of public association, but self-depreciation lowers expectations and reduces disappointments, you know, so consider this parenthetic aside the cost of doing business, or something like that)…

if I don’t leave you, or at least someone, at the very least me staring wide-eyed at the words wondering what-in-the-hell-is-he-talking-about at least once in my babblings, I feel like a failure, so I think I just succeeded, but then, I am rather easy to baffle… be that as it may or may not be, my complaint (in case you thought I forgot, though I do notice I am forgetting the capitals, so the loving hug and forgiveness and mockery of complaints and understanding seems to be preceding the actual complaint, which may be diminishing the effect of the point of this missive, massive or not, but anyway)…

in reflecting on my favorite Australians (and New Zealanders), I decided to link you in the entry in which I mention the sing linked above as I frequently slip random links with loose associations to my babbles into entries, as you are an example of why I love Aussies (for whatever that is worth to Australia and the world) and I discovered that all my links to your myspace pages no longer work… needless to say, I was devastated as I linked you more than a few times over the years (and not just in the porn entries)…

yes, so in conclusion, I hope to read why you made your myspace presence disappear instead of leaving it for posterity and the next grand human (or whatever species comes next on the evolutionary ladder) civilization to ponder and until then, I wish you more than well, I wish you peace, joy, happiness, and more love than you can imagine… yes, all that and a complaint too… because you are that special.

Look, a period!... I must be done :)

honest love,
me

no wonder why I never get a response, aye? (ah, could be pathetic, or perhaps a diversion?... a decoy?... a deviled egg?... weapons of mass distraction?... (oh no, not a serious part again?... what?)… but perhaps, maybe, e-gads and exit stage left, thanks to my maze-like diversions to protect privacy and secret asides (not to mention tangential parenthetic bunny hops) and the location of g-spots, unless you find your way into my eyes, you’ll never know, nyuk nyuk, narf :)

the later it gets

who knows, who cares (I mean, not in a heartless who cares but in a silly cartoony douglas adams irreverent relativity of caring kind of just enjoy the ride, if you feel the drift), this entry may have been somewhere before in parts or whole, but not exactly as it is here because, after all, everything changes behind the candor…

I keep forgetting the use a word processing program or even notepad to type the entries so I have a copy of the entries on my computer before sending them out here into cyberspace and there are millions of words poured out here over the years in that precarious position of existence, that is, in the blink of an electronic nanosecond the words and all the thoughts, feelings, and whatever worth there is in them would be gone, poof, as if they never existed beyond the vague memory some few of you might have of them… scary fragile, this sharing of words on the internet…

scary fragile, it turns out, is a song by butterfly boucher who I am falling in love with in the last seventeen or hundred seconds or so, maybe ten minutes (you oughta know it doesn’t take long for me to fall in love with a photo or song or singer or whatever cuz I am easy like that… of course it may not last the day, but what a day it could be, aye?)… another aussie, which most likely means austrailia is second only to the us for providing love fantasies for my heart…though Canada still ranks a close second… and per capita, they probably are first, though maybe canada, but I never actually had a physical love relationship with an aussie (we won’t get into my affairs with Canadians at the moment, aye?) so if you are from australia and would like to see if your reality lives up to my fantasy, feel free to apply within…

oh so romantic, right?...

so anyway, this entry is intended to attempt to remind me to type into notepad or better yet, ms word (cuz then it’ll spellcheck for me, not that I pay attention to the spellchecker or rulebooks much cuz I am a stubborn rebel and who loves me some typos, dontcha know) so perhaps posterity and anyone who cares might find, read, and find a moment of worth in these words sometime in the future (which is your now, if you are reading these words, isn’t that time thing exciting?) and then I’d go down in history as having existed even after this body dissolves back into the primordial ooze…

so feel free to remind me often… even if you’re not australian :)

and then there was this sudden whirl of late night television wind via the browsing after dark and the question must be asked, american on purpose on twitter?... yes, the night belongs to music, romance, or perhaps craig ferguson (who?) craig ferguson (what?) craig ferguson (where?) craig what?
huh? this? that? ellen? what? croco what?... farty?... what?...

and then, as if a commercial interruption would not be noticed, it disappeared as if it never existed, just like (who?)… and now, re-digested for your purity (and pleasure), understanding comes simply to me sometimes as a similar experience happened to happen to me in newsgroups around 1998 or so (which covers just about any experience imaginable, online, that is), and yet, I am sad that all of the old blog entries (and newsgroup posts) are not available now because there were words and photos that were so much fun, insightful, and brilliant to read (not to mention quite stimulating in every way :)

still, it is now time to include the rest of this comment, which was a comment elsewhere once, because it was written before I could access the entry that inspired it (figure that one out if you can) and now that this moment has appeared to finish what was started before running out to a game-party, there is see the serious part should be respected too…

yes, a serious part…

somehow, since 2000, i have been very lucky in that nobody cares much whether i write on the web or not (I mean, nobody’s paying attention much from day to day, no less finding the half dozen or so entries and comments and blips and blobs I leave on the web every single day for fifteen or more years, often more, sometimes ten times that number, and sometimes, a hundred all at once as if I’ve been doing it all along), so in the internet-quiet times when I actually live a busy life offline, which does happen more often than you’d think if you did find all the entries and comments and blips and blobs, every week or two I spend a day stroking my own ego and blathering in dozens of entries here and there and I upload them as if I've been writing daily just out of habit cuz I really do want to keep in touch with someone daily (is this the serious part?), preferably in a real-time physical relationship in the same living space and the illusion of writing brief daily entries keeps me hopeful that I still can bond and maintain and serious intimate everyday relationship (or am I just rationalizing an enormous exhibitionist ego that masturbates through words even if nobody's watching?... oh come on, serious, remember?)...

yeah, so anyway, i hope life is wonderful for you (and you and you and you and you and yes, each and every one of you too) and here's the comment (oh, right, with no embellishment behind the candoor, right) that would have been without this introduction (or serious part) had i been able to upload it earlier without being able to read the entry that inspired it (makes sense to me, ask for further explanation at your own risk :)

(imagine throat clearing noises)

here