Test Subject Reality Starr

Starr Williams was once the biggest star in the rodeo (row-day-oh) circuit, of the 30's & 40's, (The 2030 & 2040's). She/He messed about on the open plain and took on all comers, goers, and everyone or anyone in-between. She/He wasn't shy about furiously demonstrating STARR's ability, capability, compatability, resilience, adaptability, compliance, and intestinal fortitude towards involvement in, of, to, for, LIFE! Life, with all cylinders firing, all bolts blown and pistons pumping, or, at least all forms of the stuff of stars burning!

The Paul Lynde Halloween Special (1976)

Don't Do Drugs, Kids!

It All Reminds Me How Dumb Every Thing Is

 Stupid guy or dream about some dipshit who, having met his near infant son the day before at work, having said hello, returns and, in an improvisational non-impulse on my part, I was just was wherever I was mentally and emotionally and physically, and I just went with it, my odd situation. 

 Which was, working, minding my own business, and the guy and his son presumably, show up, and he the father, foists the son on me. I'm cradling the lad in my arms, and you know, in a moment of love, of life, a gesture, shake my arms back and forth, sort of like I was jolted by an electrical charge. Looking at the kid, and he me, we are not in pain or fear, just are in the moment and we say, look who's here! Who have we here? Or some idiotic statement of non-definition what ever. And, then, the father who foisted, takes him and hands him off and I don't see to whom. He the father is zeroed in on my eyes, and is ready for lawsuit like I'm the crazy infant shaker syndrome. And I'm just so bowled over I don't know how to deal with it. I'm walking away, silent, stunned, and, this idiot has locked eyes with me and is all manner so self-righteously inc‎ensed. Like I'm the instigator and propagator and problem. Holy Fucking COW! After I gather my wits, I begin to ask, well, where's your son? Where's your son? What did you do with your baby? And he's all, he's with his other father. And om I'm okay, thinking to my self. Say nothing. Saying nothing. Thinking, just keep walking. I'm walking. He the Foisting Father Out For Lawsuit, is walking with me and zeroed in my eyes with lock look crazy pursuit. I'm walking home back to my apartment. I get to the locked metal screen exterior door of it, and he's already there, opening it up and going inside, amidst other tennants, doing the same. I'm real nervous to say the least, approaching fear for my life and frustration as well. What in HELL is this dickshits' PROBLEM? Is he in love with me? Stalker obsessed? How asinine! What ever in hell did I do to him? I don't know him from the man in the moon. He comes to my place of work and entraps me in some bullfuckshit shenanigans, for what-dumb-fuck-ever "logic" he's got going in his labyrinthine innerscope, and I'm infinitely part parcel his magnum opus, and, am powerless it seems to me, to extricate myself of this madness. That to me is what life is from time to time. I recall, after talking to him, with the kid, and his putting the kid off some place, or to someone, another occasion, this before I walked, and he followed before he disappeared and then suddenly re-appeared later at my/his/our apartment building, being at work, and there being, and this is the funny part, 2 different dogs. 2 of same I saw this past week for real, at work, owned by 2 different owners. 1, a young bulldog, not even a year old. 2, a gray, great dane dog, spotted weakly, by some spots on his coat, like a dalmation. I pet one then the other, and then, went away. Then the guy follows me to the apartment. Sort of like the latest James Bond film. It (these both), made no real sense, logically, as they were fiction, in the true sense of no real sense to them that the guy is in a building which blows up in a film, and in my dream is there at work. Both disappear, then reappear, fine and presumably dandy, only to torture us mercilously, in some preposterous, intricate, complicated scheme, that, in real world time, would take months to plan, and they'd both have to BE me, if they knew I'd be going to such and such place after, and look for and fall for which and whatever just so. Impossible But True. Such is life. Quite stupid and idiotic from time to time. Have to laugh at it, so sad. But we do get and go consequently because of its maddening permutations insane from time to time. AAAAAARRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!

Simply Having A WONDERFUL CHRISTMAS TIME

Yup, nice song. Wonderful, clever, ever so "cheeky" tune. Cloyingly, sickeningly effective, but gat-damned annoying! Yes, BAD timing. It's NOVEMBER, fucking 13^th, a FRIDAY no less, and I'm trying to enjoy my coffee and egg/cheese/and un-cooked, bacon croissant, while the twin blonds are in the corner, one hacking their lungs out sick, and this lame-arsed,  musick selection comes on through the speakers, annnnnnd I'm OUT side. Like I had planned. There in my nylon, Kuhl brand, cargo pocket, shorts, pinch-free, Duluth Trading, underwear, thick socks, black leather, Nike, All Conditions Gear, (ACG, except for this one, they're much too small. They've always hurt my feet, in fact, my top left smashed ever for sharp in pain effective, forever. Bought originally for work on The Matterhorn. ), and my black, Fruit of The Loom, short-sleeved, single, left-pocket shirt, under my long-sleeved, white, crew-neck, compression shirt, from Russell Athletics, my mock turtle-neck shirt, (long sleeves of course) and black, from J.Crew or L.L.Bean, or maybe Land's End, my ICE-BREAKER half-zip specialized wool shirt, and over that, finally, my heavy but movable black Minus 33 Degrees hoody, almost all of these items made in CHINA, with the cotton exceptions, they're made in Honduras or Mexico, funny, I'm out on the sidewalk with all the stupid people and their stupid dogs. They all have stupid fucking dogs.

NEW COMPUTER HAVE TO START WORD ALL OVER AGAIN WITH THE FILES...YOU KNOW, WORD/MOVIE MASTER TOO...

Mine Gud. But my internet connection is slow. At least I have a new computer and I am writing on it. It has the 2T storage I wanted when I put a digital package on the old one. I have nothing on this machine and I'm really just hoofing it. I will eventually get internet like we all should have, from right here in my room. And then it will sing, right? Or, I just might be able to do school online from when ever....Wish Me Luck

testing my pc is crap these days I am heartbroken but spirit lies

Wonder how this thing works, and if it does. In life we live despite our selves or our own best interests or natural instinctual flow. In fact we spend a life time wasting what energies we have perhaps alloted maybe not, on fighting idiotic systems, those of life and it's random frustrationals, and those of human kind, through, no fault of its own, has made it nearly impossible to write a letter to someone, asking them for something, getting a response in a timely manner, and getting it sorted in a few days. Nope, the whole damned affair is a cock up tits up waste. Fuck it! Or rather, don't! Damn it all. Wish we could. Start over. With this knowledge! Ultimately nothing matters. How fucking depressing is that? That's your answer or secret message they tell you but don't tell you near the end of that Think and Grow Rich, positive mental attitude book, from way back when. Either that is the most zazen book in the world, or it as well can go to complete oblivion, like that book of books called book-bible. Don't mix linen and wool. Nonsense! What horse shit. Damn, even horse shit has more use than that advice. Nothing matters. Well, of course it does, from the scientific point of view. Hmm. Pondering on.

Hot Dry Weather Welcome To Fall In Southern California

 FUG! Every fugging year it's the same thing. Why doesn't anyone, the one's who complain about how ugly dry hot it is, the Santa Ana/Santana's Wind(s), those counter clockwise winds/front, coming down from northern Utah/Nevada, picking up speed as they get here, well, it makes people go crazy, it does, and so what? EVERY YEAR, esp sic at about NOW, there's this 'wind', and constant dry skin crinkly itchy irri-fecki-tating "condition", and people complain like, it's FALL! There's no FALL weather. No rain. Sure there is. From time to time there's rain, and though I know it's been dry and a 100 year drought going on, more people now than 100 years ago here. We buy our water and we punish our citizens for using it, and they scrimp and save and we don't use as much and have to charge them higher prices next year and it's just not fair. Farmer's use the most, but so what? STOP complaining. You're Stupid! REMEMBER! Each and every year, it's the same damn thing. The rains really hit in JANUARY/FEBRUARY. So Shut The Front Door. I don't want to hear about it any more.

At Least Here We Can Jump Up To The Title Box...

 Create a title, before we begin, and then easily enough jump down here and write away and not have the conniptions like we have with TUMBLR of late. DAMN, that blog site, once the deal, so easily appealed, esp sic mobile applications.
 And what IS wrong with this ol' desktop that it defies the hold of fricken time management, goes on instantly with the power-strip? WHAT? Mystery thickens? I've reverted back to an old time/date or the Restore Point...and, working with this thing, have turned it on and off a couple of times, including turning off the power strip, and it's only just revealed, the clock's not 'moving'. So, whatever, eh? It's on and working now, but, when turned off? What? All that magic stuff...no. Well, never mind. Been threatening to get a new computer...and...besides an old thing where a virus company called and I updated the browser...well, downloaded software for...but, it's I dunno. Never DID see the click here open it up box thing...so, who knows what? Quien Sabe Que?

SOME THOUGHTS OF LATE

 Why is this important and that not? There were 19 shooting incidences in L.A., just last week, but Oregon gets the press. WHY? It's all terrible, horrible, inevitable, stupid, lame, insane. And all of us must ask: WHY?!

 So too we must all of us ask really and truly, what REALLY will put an end to it. I mean SERIOUSLY. One would have to CHANGE inextricably, forever, human behavior, I think, to be honest, in order for this NEVER to occur EVER again, which I think is everyone's goal, esp sic all those so hell bent on removing everyone's ability to defend their selves against all enemies, foreign and domestic. Really. I mean, come on, let's be honest here. Let's be "REAL". 

 How could it? HOW could things change? Even if you went around and took away everyone's gun from their dead, cold and lifeless hands. I'm sure the outlaws would find guns if need be in their sense of the world, if teachers or ex-military were armed and employed protecting the schools, and all the legal stuff was duly worked. It seems it'd still happen. I mean people still have fucked with planes, commercial jet air liners, and we've been reacting and over reacting AFTER the fact. And so what if we all consider whatever we do next, as being PRO-ACTIVE. It's all a bunch of bullshit. We lose it. We're humans. And some do so much more than others. It's news, it's crimes, it's blood, guts, gore, sensation and more. What Can You Do?

 What ultimately is the goal, stop behavior(s), or the litigation from the behavior? 

 Eons ago you drove your car sans seat belts. You road the tram without doors. People played with lead based paint. So what? Now all of us are "protected". There are seat belts, though we're not racing them. There are doors and signs and announcements on the trams. My car causes cancer. My place of work uses things which causes cancer. My drinks, according to the signs on the shelves, causes cancer. And since there's a sign, a warning, head's up, you can't sue. No lawsuit pending...but what in the fuck?

 Can you litigate proof every thing? Can you just de-incentivize people from doing whatever behavior you find objectionable? You're the one who's fussy. 1 complaint and the whole world has to change for you. How did you get all this power? How did my friend explain it over breakfast this morning? And, it's one thing I found to be true as well, that, the person most offended, is THE one who through their own public action, offends the most, and claims First Amendment Rights, etc. FUCK THAT SHIT! 

  Go do whatever you want to do in the privacy of your own humble abode. I really don't give a shit. Just don't make the air/water/land and or laws of the land, so restricting for the rest of us, because you've complained and won lawsuits too many times to the point you get to have the world we share, exactly the way YOU want it to be.

 The ironic thing is, we all want I think things to be precisely how it is we find most comfortable, and, leave the other person out in the cold or heat: don't fuck them, at least not in the way they want. No Golden Rule here. Gimmie What I Want/Need, Too Bad for the rest.

 Well, in my synapse, that just doesn't fly! I think y'all ought shut the hell up and get whatever it is melting your butter, done behind closed shutters, and, I don't need to know or care what you give a rat's arse for/on, you know?

ATTRACTIVE

인정할게. 그건 매력적인 제안이야.

English example:

I admit, it is an attractive offer.

   IN ANY language, getting rid of all the guns lawyers money, SOUNDS attractive.

Katrina NOT LOOKING BACK

 Biggest greatest gift I see in all this is not hokey news programs and magazine articles about one of the biggest storms of our lives and horrible aftermath, government malfeasance maybe, ineptitude, etc. Is the RESILIANCE and PERSEVERANCE that, folks who survived, because many lost lives among other things, but how the living move on!

Wakey-Wakey!

Just...we're trying to wake up. Dreaming of doing our business over a plastic bucket in the dark, in an oppressive humid heat over 100 degrees. Earlier, or before, we had the dream of being in a monastery or abbey. Walking around alone into and out of places and spaces we weren't supposed to be in. Mostly empty, these rooms with few adornments, one guy in a robe came in and told us to get out. Hmm, typical. Whatever. So what? Who cares? Can't we go back to sleep or at least, have a proper, cool, clear, and clean place to do the business? A-men!

Looking For A Nutritionist

 So, I looked up an address for the local Nutritionist and followed not much of anything but instinct, and by golly, it was replaced by a Snow Monster! In my fit of pique, I opted for 2, glazed, "vegan", blueberry, cake doughnuts. I think it was a good choice, for a 12 year old boy who doesn't know any thing about nutrition, and the deleterious effects of eating a bunch of crap!

THE NEW SOFTWARE OF THIS BLOGGER SITE DOESN'T LIKE MY OLD BROWSER SOFTWARE

Yeah, and I don't care. I am I think and have thought a couple of times, to back up my photos and text and oh, I'll have to you know, get my Final Draft software down too. Yeah. Ok. New computer on the horizon is next. Yeah. So much new stuff. Why do you have to buy a new damn computer every what, 10 years? Has it been that long? Really? Well, yeah, if this came on line in 2005. Damn. That's way too long I think. Way too long. I need a new machine, eh? New software. The new windows browser, yeah. But, a tower, and a cd player and yeah, a level one. Because this one, it's vertical, and, been a pain. Real pain. Yeah. Okay. Moving on. Moving on. Have to go to bed. Really. Sleep.

OK

‎New phone. New set up. How do I lose that signature bit at the bottom again?

Dumb Shit

You know, everyone and their brother can tell you that: "They don't tell you that..." and, so, you can just fill in the blank with whatever that is. YOU "know" it to be "true", that is to say, it's in your heart, no doubt, that what is presented, is, unequivocally, sound. Veritas. I say to you, the 'TRUTH', in capital letters. WHY do we persist with the bullshit? Because it's the system and we just let it roll on down the hill because we can't change it, as a leopard cannot change its spots. It is what it is, etc. This is THE most insidious, hideous, vile, heinous, load of dingo's kidneys the world has on offer, and I vehemently reject it, outright!!!

JUST BECAUSE

Just because you have an idea, doesn't mean life is going to make it happen for you. As hard as you work, despite obstacles and mischief managed, it STILL doesn't follow that it will "HAPPEN". IT just doesn't work that way.

And you can say that your a real cool cat, you have the right religion or sexual preference and you can post some kind of idiotic diatribe that says people should post dozens of likes and reposts and things of this nature, just because, doesn't mean that it's going to work out for you. It just doesn't, and that's ALL THERE IS TO IT!!

Minutiae Nothing

WHY must you put mustard or ass-gassing loosey goosey AVOCADO, where it doesn't belong? Say, on seared Ahi Tuna? In a wheat bun? Sure, tastes great, less filling, but unless you're on OPIATES (Is everyone on opiates but me? And, should I be?), which are known arse-stoppers, (constipators), there's no reason to have wasabi mustard, or any other kind of mushroom-avocado-smeary-butt leakage, "FOOD", in your system. I've no problems "going", okay?
I can eat sushi without wasabi thank you very much. Most places put entirely TOO much of it on there and you wonder, what's "wrong" with the fish? I eat and enjoy eating a lot of different types of raw fish. No problem getting rid of it either. NO problem.
And you mushroom people, you don't even do mushrooms that feed your head-cordyceps-or help your immune system-astragalus-eh? You fart around with these plate-sized portobellos or vegetable up your dishes, with these canned, button-willows, that don't even taste very good.
If I have a need to "go", and have some thinking I need to do, I'll have some shilajit, please, and, THANKS!

AVIAN NONSENSE

There is a bird what sings an ugly annoying song...

Yeah the bird up front seems to be saying Hey, Look Up Here, Look Up Here! Or, Look At You, Look At You! Or, What's With You, What's With You? All depending on your mood when you wake up on account of its incessant chirping, mocking jay nonsense. It flies back and forth, back and forth, like it has a blocked bowel, and is crying in pain. Hops from one back yard to another, and over and over again, to make sure all and sundry are awake and know full well its message, sage words no doubt, spoken in a language only those of its kind can understand. Unique, Cute, Hunh?

RUN!!! BUT WHERE TO? THE SEA!

66 degrees at 4:39 of a Sunday morning. RUN!!! It takes a couple of days for the water to heat up in the pool when the surrounding temperatures have risen. Despite how hot it is outside. Yeah. Run! Or not. Swim. Not for me. Not today. Rough night. Went so many places, not all of them pretty, friendly, or fun. One such was on a thin, narrow beam, down to a, ah, er, uhm, 'sunless sea'. And the word was, imminent, well, eminent, as in eminent domain. They, those who were facing ocean front property in Arizona, were told;  "We're going to take your houses away and start the war". That was the story and people were deciding whether to end their lives at that point, but some little voice inside said NO! Not going to do that. And somehow it stopped. The nightmare had ended and it was all over from there.

Crusades R US

‎Why are we all so nervous, raw, twisted, wrong? What's with all the misdirected, prestidigitation by the powers that be? Do we instinctively sense that looming, 'something wrong', just around the river bend?

Is the U.S. Economy going to take a dive when the dollar dies? The rich are well taken care of, of course, naturally. No question there. But what about the rest of us? Too stupid to wait on tax filing, hurriedly done. Dutiful, and now, later of course, we'll see the ways being erred? To err is human after all. Too bad so many of us cannot forgive, and thus, will never experience divine.

 Why in hell on this earth, can we not leave one another alone? Do we actually realize how critical we are of each other? Can we? Do we do so this criticism out of insecurity over our own ineptitude and inequalities? We're not like the others. No shit, and neither should we be, but so too, we probably shouldn't be critical. No way should we judge and jury everyone in the court of public opinion. Yeah, we string one another up with reckless abandon. This too, same thing, in a way, even though it's meant as a cautionary or, well, rant in and of itself really, isn't it? Yeah, it's that too. But, hey, Zeus, this constant Public / Monkey Mind-Set Diurnal Crucifixion Contest Crap, should fricken STOP! (Just saying, right?)

Light Where There Wasn't Any Before

Heaven was dark. Spock dies, and then:

"Suddenly, there was light in the dark room." Someone says, in Hangul. A pretty, tall, Koren-born woman, with long, black hair, speaking in an Australian accent, when she says it in English.

 And actually, also on this date, (in 2003 was it?), Fred Rogers, "MR. ROGERS", died. Yes. True. Correct. Just a few days ago, Venus, Mars and the Moon were all sorted out near one another. Heck, just a couple of days ago, I noticed Jupiter in the East, Moon overhead, and then in the West, Venus and nearby but slightly off that line, tiny red light Mars. Not too shabby for some celestial shenanigans. Wonder what they were up to on this date in 2003? Can someone find out for me? No one cares, SpongeBob, I know. But, it'd be nice to know, see if any of this correlates. It doesn't, but would be cool if it did.

 

 

Why Aubrey de Grey Takes an Interdisciplinary Approach to Aging

Watch this video I found on Vimeo: https://vimeo.com/113547876

‎Great, another f-tard who has facial hair and can still manage to convince people to pay him in order to live a life in the manner he's accustomed. P.T. Barnum was correct. Every minute. Or maybe not. Who cares? I can't. And I'm NOT going to be completely satisfied until I can do what my innate talent says I can and be paid in order to live in the manner to which I'm accustomed. Nothing Else Matters Right Now. NOTHING!

THURSDAY -- My Friday

‎THUR. FEB. 19th, 2015

  Ten years ago, this weekend, there was a storm over the south land. Reports also suggest, possibility of rain, this weekend. Ten years ago I was contemplating a trip to Los Angeles, just like I was then. Back then, Hunter Stockton Thompson was alive and then he killed himself. I hope I never do that. Wish or so wished I could write for a living, but it appears I'm doing this, have been, at a place, which, has been here 60 years in July of this year, and the ride I work, in the building I'm in a lot and am scheduled in today, it as well, has been in existence, ten (10) years, this March, 17th. This May, we'll start our work's 60 year celebration. My Dad, moved to Mexico 10 years ago. Imagine that!

 I'm grateful for the supremely easy simple ride I've had, all these years, and though I still complain about fits and stops and false starts that go nowhere, I keep on going, so far, so good, I guess. I'm one of the lucky ones. One of the luckiest ones around.

 Never wanted a man or woman to be my partner, not full time all around. At least not a man, not like that. A woman, sure, pure, beautiful images, wants, desires, but none of it included kids, children, offspring. Ridiculous. In what I call, this world. No. Absolutely not. Feel a little bad for my parents I mean if that's what they've wanted for me. I've only wanted to be able to take care of my self. So far, I've not done that completely very successfully, so, I've reason to live, plenty, and goals to accomplish, I'd say, I guess. Moving on. I've got friends and one major enemy. The friends are loyal great and few. The enemy is you know who. The one you look at in the mirror, the one inside, the one who doesn't always hide or keep its foul mouth shut. Hoo!

 Not much reading accomplished and more books/reading material acquired. What a waste. So too clothing. Get rid of it, the excess. Trim down, Slim. Cut it out! Cancer growing? Melting down. Burning out. Molding on. Who knows what crap is going on, eh? Geez, please. Get it going, get it gone, get it done already, and, move on!!! School Online. Class. DO something other, DO something else!! NOW!!!

Saint Valentino's Day

SAT. FEB. 14th, 2015
  They say, all you need is love. Money would be nice. In this world I need that in order to live with love. Actually, it's all about POWER! I'd rather have the instant immediate 'power' to do and not do, whatever I want, whenever I want, and, however I want. THAT'S what it's all about, forget about that ever elusive hokey-pokey!!!
-----
 You want power, tuned in and turned on. You want power to feel better and help others feel better, in an instant of pain or disgrace; calamity, injustice. POWER, tuned in, and, turned on. POWER.
  Essentially, it's authority. You want it, and you don't want your self having to fight it, like some Cougar or Mellencamp John, who always fights it, but, authority, always wins. No. Even Eddie Cochran, he fought the law, and the law won. That's a loss of power or control, over one's life. In this world, that's what it's truly all about, forget about all that 'jiggery-pokery', movie flim-flam, 'preverted', Dr. Strangelove stuff. You Want Power/Control, over life, over your own life, over death, essentially. Yikes! What am I saying here?
------
 We want basically the ability to know and to take care of what we know. This is what made you sick or killed so-n-so. Well then, let's do this that, the other, and put a stop to that, right away, you know? Isn't that what it's all about? Power, right? Control, over all the elements as it were?
-----
 I love it when things go my way. Hate it when things go away from me.
 Love is, a store needing to be open at 7 a.m., when you happen to be driving by, and it is. Love is, dropping your pen cap when you grab your coffee from the drive through window lady, but the guy in the car behind you doesn't pull up into the space you left behind, in order for you to walk back there and pick it up, without being run down, without being hurt, and having to live with that, for the rest of your life. Yeah, that's love.
  Love is needing from the store the purified fish oil caps and you're not finding them, anxious, having to go to the bathroom, and having a store that always has one available, easy access, even when the odd thing of a broken urinal's involved. You exit said bathroom and then you go back to the shelf to look at fish oil and you find it, THE one you want, AND, it's on SUPER SALE, mark down discount.
  (Better take them now, right? They must be old? BAH! Negative. They have a lot. Willing to be generous, give. In this case, a break on the pricing.)
  Well, that's love, and I like that. No? I LOVE that.
-----
  But you/we don't have a lot of control over things. And things though they might be reminders, or triggers, it doesn't mean you have to pull them. Some of them, right. Buttons you have to press, yes. But meanwhile, it's all about what's happening inside you, inside, all of us. We control it, but not always. Some times we do and we love it. Some times we don't, and we hate it. But, it is what it is. This is this. And, it is the truth. This much is true. I know this much is true.
------

When Things Go Wrong

    I'd do anything, to turn you on...well, except maybe for that. That, I would NOT do. No, I'd NEVER do that.
    What was it you were trying to say? How was that? You were saying something. Trying for something somehow. I didn't understand. No, not quite that, but, something. Something else. Quite. Yeah. WHAT? I don't know. No. Not that. Not anyhow. Never. Anyway. Not no way, not no how. Hmm. What was it?

THE or ANYTHING

    It occurs that an organization of thoughts themes concepts has to take place. There's too much going on, so much to do, and it appears, and I so feel, that I'm not able to properly deal with it all.

    A moth, about seven inches in diameter arrives. Now, sure, it's winter and so when do moths appear? Are you in a place where they're year around and appearances aren't noticeable? Not for me, not for that size and so, especially so, after what occurred in the big life event of, my Aunt just had a stroke, and it coincidentally occurred on a day or night prior to...the moth was happening at the same time as near I can tell and it seems this is or was a portent, an omen, and in this case, it wasn't of the moth's demise, but degradation in the life of a loved one, and I can't communicate with them, nor can they communicate with me. Had a previously passed loved one signaled a warning, a head's up? Did I miss it? Should I have thought, figured, to look more?

 

FOR YOUR READING PLEASURE

‎NO. NO NO NO. Just because it's a book, a story, fact, or legend, doesn't necessarily make it great or even good. A book, the laws, rules, regulations, philosophy, psychological intent, the forces which commence after the ideas, knowledge inside, are taken and made action upon doesn't for all make good. Once you believe in a book, it doesn't always follow you're better, or that the world is. Not no way, not no how. 

 THIS doesn't mean the book has to be burned, destroyed completely, or banned, kept from libraries, schools, bookstores, or general use. It should still exist. Just because. It's a record. It's valuable knowledge. The information can illuminate for example, say, how stupid we can be. How ignorant we were. Knowing about its existence could be just enough. A good or great motivation for doing, being better, trying for our best behavior. Some times the best response in a situation or circumstance,  is NO RESPONSE. None whatsoever.

-----

Tomorrow's A New One

 Yeah, tomorrow's a new day. We'll we all hope a good one is made of it. Hope is we can relax and recuperate, whatever befalls.

I KEEP GETTING ERROR MESSAGES BUT...

 Yeah, there are these error messages popping up, but I'm still able to write, post, go from page to page. This is wonderful. Here now with a better connection than we've had before, and it's pleasing to say the least. We are so darn grateful. Hope is, we can continue to keep this going and make something more out of life, not just grind on down to damageville/dwindling on to dwindleville, complications leading to complications until finally we're gone!!

ESOTOURIC'S Eastside Babylon

Went on the bus, finally, Saturday, the 13th, of December. It went well. I found the cafe, The Daily Dose, and parked 2 blocks away, at a grocery store where there's a video explaining to anyone with an electronic vehicle, how to plug it in.
 Enjoyed the professionalism and thorough attention to detail everyone brought on board. I learned a lot and was able to contribute. I only hope next time I bring earplugs, or find a seat in back with a blown speaker above my seat, because it was too loud for me. I heard Richard, Kim, and Joan, all with ease, which to me, working as a carny, and having some issues from birth with regard to hearing, sinus issues, blockage, it was a surprise. I'm eagerly devouring Kim's latest book, THE KEPT GIRL, and look forward to Joan Renner's work as well. The future will definitely see me on board another bus very soon.

Well I've Got A New Printer

Couldn't sort out my old printer. Easy to use when it worked...and I'm not all sure that this new one's going to work either, but when I've opened files, they've printed...so...an old used printer from a lady friend I know, works fine, but maybe that's because I've got the same printer company as my computer...TIME will tell.

--

Can A Delivery Man Be A Turnip?

What The Hell?

‎"That's great, it starts with an earthquake, birds, snakes, an aeroplanes, Lenny Bruce is not afraid..."

   --R.E.M., It's The End Of The World, As We Know It.

   Sure, Lenny Bruce was full of Heroin at the end of it, for him, so, what did he have to fear? And there's nothing now, for him. Of course he's not afraid. For the rest of us, the living, we have plenty, and it's not all right and most of us don't feel fine. We're perturbed, angry, annoyed, and pissed off. Well, I used to say to an old friend of mine: at least it's better than being pissed on. Well, unless you're into that kind of thing, and I'm not, for one, I'll tell you that right now. What the hell?! 

 Powers that be want you afraid. They want major disasters of weather (east coast), and earthquakes/fires, (west coast), in order to keep us under thumb. 

 What are we going to do about it? What are we going to do?

Looky Here What I Brought YOU!

Harris Maccabee

 And just Who IS this insensitive prevaricating author, HARRIS MACCABEE?

The latest drivel he's "written":

‎And bloomers? (P.S. They used to wear them when I was a kid. Had this post thing with a circle on top. Hanging down the circumference were these chains at certain spaced intervals. At the bottom of the chains, were rings. There was a board, set at an angle in the sand. Each kid would walk up the board and then jump out to the first ring, and when able, reach out for the next, and keep going until the end, which brought the said young athlete to almost complete the circle/ring, where the board was again. Then they'd drop into the sand. There was a sand pit where this post was placed in the center. All the cute girls with bloomers on under their dresses were watched by the young boys in the 1960's, very carefully.)

------

 Just WHAT is THAT all about?

The Way of the World Or, This is what's happening or not, with THE MUTINEER

And for those of you keeping tabs on THE MUTINEER: RANTS, RAVINGS, and MISSIVES from the MOUNTAINTOP 1977 -- 2005, by Hunter S. Thompson (i.e. NONE of you!!!) Amazon.com doesn't post its availability 2030 (That was the first to go.) And, it no longer lists its publication date as March 1, 2014 and just indicates it's "unavailable", and, there are "unreacheable" parties which "have" it, but are asking for 4, 5, 6 hundred dollars, and at least 5 dollars for S&H. It's just fucking insane!!

THE MUTINEER: The Latest

https://m.facebook.com/?_rdr#!/story.php?story_fbid=10201668114007411&id=1316331397&refid=8&_ft_=qid.5990847026616408086%3Amf_story_key.-9206149680574861755&__tn__=%2As

Urban Dictionary: adjective

Urban Dictionary: adjective



 I wondered if "shit" was an adjective. So, I looked it up and found this.

In Solitude

‎There is gunfire off in the distance now. Two shots. In soledad/solitude, these things too pass before us, everyone.

Book News - THE MUTINEER: Rants, Ravings, Missives from the Mountaintop, by HUNTER S. THOMPSON

 You'll not likely get any other heads up any where other than here, so, for those discriminating taste buds, we offer the latest no news news.

 Saturday, March 1st, 2014, the book of letters, etc is expected to be released. Those of us who showed initiative to get it when it was first announced in 2010, will not be given any special privilege. We won't all of a sudden have a copy Saturday morning jet-post or in the afternoon by slug sailor. No. It will, if it comes at all, be delivered, my best guess, Wednesday, of next week, which puts it 4 days after publication and possibly in stores already, what few will be, in some major markets, and, you can forget about getting it in, say, Mississippi, unless Lemuria in Jackson has something going for it, or Books on the Square, in Oxford will. No. Not even in Orange County, California, probably...maybe the Huntington Beach or Newport, Fashion Island, Barnes and Noble's will carry a copy or three. But where to put it on the shelves? Where indeed! 

 Nonfiction. Not to be confused with anything such as like the Vegas book, which was listed as, but really was mostly Fiction. Doesn't matter, and ultimately, nothing does, but damn it all, I want some news on the thing now. And I want it delivered Saturday afternoon. I want a letter, an email rather, in today's box, telling me, my book has shipped! So far, nothing! Which suggests to me, my Wednesday guess may just be correct. And, I could be wrong. It could hit next Saturday, after the Penguins / Ducks game and wanting nothing to do with the week ahead of that, but...we plod on, mercilessly.

AND checking my ORDER-March 6, and by the Monday following, March 10th, is the "it should be in your hands" delivery by 8 p.m.

It's just frustrating. I've done 2 of these now. No one can find them by looking. I posted on someone's Goodreads post and subsequently deleted them and even that was a major hassle. Back and forth emails with the Goodreads ambassador there. Terrible thing. Why Why Why? It's a wonder anything gets done at all. How can anyone legitimately believe in conspiracies? Things are too easily inadvertently lost or failing that (hah) fucked up.

The Mutineer: Rants Ravings and Missives from The Mountaintop

 The book, by Hunter S. Thompson, a book of letters and the lot, of his work or writings, from 1977-2005, is, we hope, due to drop, this Friday, March 1st, 2014. 

 It was first announced, if memory serves, in 2010, when I first put an order in on it, in the online bookseller-plus-company, named after a rapidly disappearing jungle. Well, the publication date did the same thing, and we all felt raped, cheated, put upon. And now on its eve, we still feel a bit off, to say the least. There's nothing about its release in Vanity Fair, there's nothing about its release in Rolling Stone, and only the barely workable goodreads.com site for readers (frustrated, would be writers), to review books they read, has a thing on it. And the U.K., book seller plus site. And it's bitter and sad in that department too.

 Some suggest a lawsuit is/was involved. Hell, who knows? And, "Who Killed Hunter S. Thompson?" a book of essays by known associates and admirer's, is yet another thorn in this writer's side. Why can't it be brought out as well? Especially now? Nothing. There is nothing there. Ron the editor / Publisher at Last Gasp Press has told me repeatedly it's in the final stages, just waiting on Hinckle's essay to be finished. Well, dump on that! 

 Rumors abound it and the Mutineer book have both been out already, and I can't believe a word of it. Garbage, Nonsense, you people can't be trusted. None of you, and because of a lawsuit probably, some kind of gag order. Not even Simon & Schuster's idiotic website can cull the thing, and they're the publisher for hell's sake!!

 Wife Anita Thompson's website, the Gonzo one, nothing. Off the Web, for a damn long time. All a part of the demented plan for sure. Let's kill this project. Well, a-men, bruddah. You did. 

 I hope the book arrives and I enjoy it. Bet it won't arrive until Wednesday of the first full week of March, but I'll enjoy it what I can nonetheless. It's been a bummer that's for sure.

SO

 SO. Remember that album from that rich guy who used to be with another group which went on to be gigantic when compared to him and his work, eventually? 

 Remember when in grade school or something it was, SO? Such an insult? Some girl or guy professing their interest, would be so floored, just by one, simple, curt, response, by the single person audience being told, some heartfelt emotion: SO?

  So she is gay. How brave. And the gay comic is dying, of cancer. How sad. 

   What's really important, we miss. People are living. 

   What is it about sex, their preference, and capability to announce it to the world and its capacious and ravenous appetite to regurgitate the news? Who cares? What business is it of ours? And, if they're dying of some horrible disease, wouldn't you think a person would want it kept private? And, for that matter, their sexual peccadilloes as well?

SO?

 

I Wonder As I Wander

‎ The only way to guess or even try to figure things out is to wonder as you wander. Do something and after a time you'll want care and think of nothing but anything else. What can you do about it? Nothing. You can't do anything with, to, for, about, any of it, regardless.

Massacre

It was a massacre. They did it sloppy and quick. Shotgun. Hand Gun. Sub-Machine gun. If one guy and this dog had not survived (The man from injuries sustained from the slaughter did later, after telling authorities: who, what, where, when, how, succumb.), the crying dog alerting folks earlier than they would have been, due to its wailing for its dead master, alerting new, post scene event witnesses. But you know they all died horribly in their own way, did the killers. At least, you tell yourself that. And the killed, were thugs from some other gang(s) too. Bad guys, no doubt. But so what? Still killed. Killing. Dead. Not coming back. Brutally butchered. Love gone horribly wrong. Acts of love taken to extreme. Love for the gang, actions of loyalty to the bosses, love twisted all out of purportion. You know they were scared, afraid of being killed by cops if caught in the act, or stopped by others...they couldn't even kill the damn dog, idiots. You do a thing like that, you shoot the dog too. If you go beast, brutal, you do it all the way. Chickenshit Pansies!! Yeah, easy to say, but it's true. What kind of horrible person writes this? Someone without love? Who does such a thing as that? Killing other people? In a warehouse room? On Valentines Day!

2nd Month, A Realization

THUR. FEB. 6th, 2014

 Two Zero One Four. Who'd a thunket? We're here, in the Second Month of twenty-fourteen!!! Isn't it exciting?! I think so. Funny though is it how the daily grind to get past another sunrise how dull turgid it quickly becomes. Terrible thing. Let's reflect on how grateful we are to be here alive and to notice any old thing. At very least it may be the best we can be or do. Shrug shoulders. Move on. Oy, smile. Grin wryly. Sigh. Be at rest with peace.

‎

Superior Bowle Le

 The Big foot ball game in America is today or yesterday and tomorrow for some. After work I'll be missing only just first bits, and wondering how the folks back home are doing as I feel my way across the field in my mind at Puh-sod-inn-uh, the Rose Bowl, back in...86? 87 maybe. The Steelers vs. The Rams. Up With People, did the half time show. Ushers handed out squares of mirror mylar for us to be a part. I was young, sober, shouting: This Game Is Fixed!, and people were turning around and then looking at one another saying, 'You know, he's probably right.' Of course I was, but so what?‎

 I'll be sober again by the time after work I reach the house. No one will be yelling or betting on the plays, point spread, or winners. It will be a dull puppy trot. I mean, I feel for both teams. I want Seattle. I'd like Peyton to win and then quit football for good. I don't want to hear the crap when or if Seattle loses, in the way of excuses. I just don't. I have a feeling there will be a lot, if they do lose. (They won't, right?) Anyway, who cares? The toughest defense, will it reign again? Or will it lose and break that? And who will be traded or quit after this game, never able to fully realize next year's possibility with their championship/division winning team going all the way next year, because they could, but, won't. The network has made damn sure there aren't any more Green Bay/Steeler Lombardi sucking teams 3 and 4 years in a row. That shit is long over. No more horse or barn for that show. They killed the dog on that one. Too bad. I kind of liked stuff like that. Back then it really meant something to be with a team to the end. Now, it's just an endorsement or broadcasting deal post game scars. 

FRIDAY'S NEWS IS NO NEWS, NOT REALLY

 We're off doing our own thing. We're not helping one another.

 Secret revealed, truth, be told. We can do no such thing. We can't do either very well. We just make some noise, splash around. Try as we may/might-we hardly make any sense (of it) before all time, sense of place, whatever, what have you, falls and, it's over--done--you die.

 Hang the sense of it. Purpose meaning reason answer(s), be damned. Fuck it. Fuck it because it's there or here. Get on with it. Live as best you can and then die. Don't worry. Be not concerned. It doesn't matter. Take it not upon yourself to care too much, too deep(ly), because there is no way of knowing, ultimately, for sure, not here, not now, not in this. And if ever there is. If in death you'll know, then that's for then. It's not for this 'now'. And there's never actually reason to rush or hurry to, for, of, by, whatever. Just to BE, is plenty.

Does Not Match The Run Time

Yeah, getting errors about this but you know, this blog is easier to operate easier than livejournal, easier than tumblr (which looks the best) and easier than wordpress. I am a writer therefore I have no money and am highly stressed and sensitive and I just want need it working and easy to work as well, in all formats on all machines. So, it looks like this year I may just flush the hell out of all of them but this one. And if I can you know remember to email from you know, any of my 2 addresses, to this easy to get into the post from the email, having the address and having this site recognize the sender and having it post with out gobbly-gunk on it as well like tumblr is doing of late when I post photos there...if if IF IF IF, i'll have a merry groovy new year!!!

Evening New Year

Happy New Year, ya bloody wankers! Nepal and half of Russia are already there. And since no one really takes you serious on this thing (unless of course they want to criticize and belittle your thoughts, prayers, meditations) I'm determined tonight to be in bed asleep well before midnight and all of ya's! I'm going to get messed up with a painted red haired lady, smoke some cigars, have a few beans, and a chocolate macaroni salad apple pie. (P.S. On New Year's Day I'm going to wake up, grab myself a beer for breakfast, and listen to the Doors, on my out door speakers, at FULL Volume, while I swim, and probably drown.)

What I Did Today After Work

‎Tumor has been removed from the Mumster's visage. And the other spots on back and shoulder seem cool too. Catching some 2nd Hand Skunk weed smoke here Norwalk style before perusing the latest bit from RALPH STEADMAN! Regency 8 has FOR NO GOOD REASON. And so for that, the very same, I'm here to watch this Documentary. The girl asked pointedly if I was aware of the fact. And I said, oh yeah, very much so. Big Fan, etc. Norwalk. Nothing to do. Same thing. Redundancy. Skate in the parking lot between blunts in yer 64 Impala, I suppose. I couldn't do it. Makes me sick. (Both all everything.) Hello, Big Brother. Blow a doobie for me. Catch y'all later at ELBOWS, in Cerritos.

Rants of The Archer: I Love Notebooks

Rants of The Archer: I Love Notebooks


 Interesting stuff. But I want to be able to BUY some Sterling notebooks off the web myself. Lined paper or if they have it, graph!

You Big Banana Head!

THUR. AUG. 29th, 2013

  AND, explain to me again why we have to take Syria? It's not the same old boy oil network thing again designed in the guise of humanitarian effort like that Police Action in Vietnam? When we're supposedly only in Vietnam to stop the spread of communism and finally just said well, we lost the war and won the region, the ideology, and about bankrupt everyone. But we weren't in Laos or Cambodia or anywhere else over there, either, were we? No. Bullshit! We were there. We were in the Philippines and crusing the coasts in the China Sea, to be sure.

 Who was it who said the warring leaders must meet in an area where the public will witness them with socks filled with manure, and they hit and hit and slap one another till a draw is made. Or they languish after sex like in a pillow fight, and smoke THC oil with vape smokers, and later at a party smirk or go their separate ways. Why can't we leave this shit alone? I didn't vote for one administration to get into another war just to foist it off onto another at term's end. Fuck this shit!

What Monsters Are

Monsters Fairies Goblins don't exist. They're just stories we tell one another and our children to explain events and our own peripatetic motivated behaviors. 

Dark Cool Morning In July

It was a dark cool morning that Saturday in July. Very dark in the east. A lone jet slowly flies by somewhere above the cloud layer. The occasional clump of a door off stage left or off right. A car sighs by, then another, from a different direction. Suddenly a loud screeching whine is announced. What in heaven is that? Someone just open their garage door, going to wash their car now? Wait. It's going to rain. Just park it out on the driveway for a few hours, after the grocery shopping, while you sit inside and read, or potter about in the backyard, with your boots and shorts, t-shirt, and hoodie.

A Dream

WALKING along the something river trail, one I'd done before, but didn't know or couldn't recall how after only going over a rather steep short freeway bridge, like the one over the 5 freeway in Burbank, to the mall to the east of the interstate, on victory Blvd or some such, was found, just on the other side of the mall, this wilderness area.

 In it, on a trail, a bit of a depression in the path, some mud and water I was careful about stepping around as much as I could, I was on my current phone, writing, I suppose, people came up to me to inform me there was a man on a crossroads, and I can't recall the names, with white hair, who was hurt, bleeding, from the mouth. I found him as I approached, he spit something large and white out his mouth. It was thought by me, to be a tooth. I decidedly recalled where in general it fell, and was mindful to pick it up and maybe keep it, in order to be saved. But this man not all with it upstairs, in distress, was asked a number of questions like do you know what day it is? Who the president is? What's your name? No. He was asked, did you fall? Did someone hit you? Are they still here? I was flustered as I wasn't getting much response and there was no help coming.

Thoughts

"The road for happiness is proscribed by less distinction." I love the sound and feel of this sentence, but it is quite simply untrue, I hope. Proscribed means banned. Hope is, for more joy, the less we specify, the more we give up and give in to LOVE, deep within our hearts, with each and every encounter, if we can. It's a process, it's not perfect. In fact, the Indigo Girls once said something about less definitive searching, allowing for one to be more defined. How does this magic work? Is that really how powerful love is? I say to you: It is 4 o'clock, no matter how many times you ask, no matter how many of you ask, and no matter that you ask right on top of one another, not listening to each other. If I say it with peace each and every time, in a cheerful, friendly way, it just might work. Let's help one another do this, every day, in every way.
Delivered Via Akasha

The TRUTH

If 'freedom' aint free, then freedom doesn't exist. I'm all for supporting people with the guts to sign up for 'dying' because their country's politicians have small penis's and think nothing of sending their country into a downward spiral fighting what they call 'just' police actions, but it's bullfucking dogshit, and everyone and their brother knows this. Either that, or this world is just operating WAY out of hand. And, quite possibly this life is a world of senseless idiotic stupid HURT!
Delivered Via Akasha

2 For Today

FRI. APR. 26th, 2013
You're always on my mind. I'll take you there. These 2 tunes are on my mind today, and for you maybe they mean something.
They do for me, as random as they are. Not really, but somehow the brain has called them up and on they play. Not as a mash-up, which, yeah, they're sort of going, but as 2 separate beings occupying my brain-space.

Geez, that sounds like someone in dire need of doctor intervention. Yes, tomorrow, the good ol' Doctor Who can definitely sort it out, what with the Gallifreyan 2 heart dance.
2 hearts. Wonder which one has that little slice of ice in it, which author Graham Greene said every writer needs. Kill your little darlings' Truman Capote once said.

Spring cleaning continues apace, and it's 6:15 now. Time for a swim, I suppose. It's cold there, and must be done. Some things are like that. You will always be on my mind, Young one. And, I'd have to say, I'll take you there, if you'll have me.
Delivered Via Akasha

Think I Think How Do They Know This?

Even Vegans eat spiders at night when they sleep. (How do they figure this crap out?) Can everything be simply explained some day? Does it need to be? When faced with the overwhelming, what do we do? Freeze? Reboot. Break it down into manageable components. Begin the beguine, all over again. OK. Good. But let's be honest, the unemployment rate is just that. You can get numbers, math, to argue anything, and still be wrong. You need emotion to set it off. Math isn't absolute or perfect. It can be manipulated to say like logic, semantics, etc., to say whatever you may. Doesn't mean you're right perfect true. It's all relative. One day they may assert, my Dad once suggested, Einstein was wrong. But, it required him to come along and to do his thing, for us to get to where we are. What do I want to say here? Nothing, therefore, I said it.
Delivered Via Akasha

Good Night For Now

Good Night everyone! Try not to fuck up the world while I'm gone (to consciousness, in slumber), or, if, in failing that, make it a really bad one. Something so completely heinous it's impossible for me to wake in the middle of it maimed and ragingly righteously pissed, but in sleep, be wasted into oblivion unknown. Thank You. OM!
Delivered Via Akasha

Many Tied Tomatoes

O.K. Let's figure this thing out. We've got a boy, Man-tied to Mayo (His.), gets the world; hook, line, and STINKER. Bad p.r. "person", or horrible novelist, in disguise as football player. Just a kid. Stupid subterfuge, nevermind what Stendhal said about robbing a man of his subterfuge, and he goes crazy. This person is a kid, just a kid, and what's viral, is a lot of people are talking, like any press is good press. Got coverage, like Catfish, on us all. And so what does this mean? It's a waste of time. It's way too stupid to be the classic bit of the Magician's, prestidigitation. The clasped hand pointing to the other, opening, which reveals No More COIN. Remember, the hand pointing, has a fist, and the COIN is probably still in it. What's the REAL stinky carp here on the dock, bloated, drying, fly bitten, in the HEAT of topical attention?
Guess like many things, we should all just ignore it, as like most, it soon will pass.
Delivered Via Akasha

NEW BREED OF CAT

We see a new age of people. Who do things but don't make such a big deal about it. Single or Married, with or without a significant other. Doesn't make a big deal about the things they believe in. They don't drink or do other drugs and drive. They don't smoke (any thing), but don't make a big deal out of it. If you ask their advice they may give it. If you want to know what they believe in, they'll tell you, in some kind of vague circumspect fashion. And that's about it.

Ian Rankin at Book Soup

It was a boot for me to be able to have the day off and get paid and go see Ian Rankin at Book Soup books. I went by places on Sunset recognizing and calling out names of them and bits of their and my history with just before passing directly in front of them and really reading their names and finding my conceits not. But having reality match my conception. Nice feeling. Peaceful, easy feeling.
Message From Pisgah

SCARECROW DAY

Scarecrow Day. First Tuesday after Thanksgiving. All the Scarecrows all over the world gather together in the field of great reckoning, and self immolate. They're dressed and otherwise appear to be the iconic effigies of all the world's leaders; actors, artists, writers, and musicians. All depending on how their owners originally constructed them. But when they get to the field and at 7 a.m., that first Tuesday morning, on their respective day, they burn. It's not like burning man. It's not hippie meets new age drug. In fact, if anyone goes at all, it is the family. Cold sober units typically. And they get to reflect on this event all day. Hope is, by the Scarecrows, all year, which is the whole point!
Message From Pisgah

Something For The Future

WED. NOV. 7th, 2012
Let's do this bit-by-bit, step by step, inch by inch. Being Careful. Let's see what we think, see what we feel; is it Real, meal after meal? Yeah? No? Then go from there, you know?
-------
The dynamic must be altered, yes. I agree. At work they ask: How do I win? Change your outlook. Remove the paradigm of winning/losing. Fighting Dying. Oh you don't need to be so serious, it's just a stupid game. Well, don't ask me stupid questions here, where it's too LOUD, and I'm walking in place on this moving walkway, and you're on the ride moving by. I've already lost long ago, but keep on moving anyway. Hope is one day and thenceforth, I'll figure a way to win, by not losing myself to grief over not being able to properly take care of myself in this world, OR, I'll come to the conclusion, I just don't care, and, it just doesn't matter what you/I do here, because ultimately, nothing matters.
--------
Maybe we have this whole living thing wrong. Maybe we don't go to hell or heaven, but into the next phase. We've seen how life goes first hand, how the world operates, people suffer, find bliss, how dumb and beautiful it can be. Now then it's our turn! We get a world where if there's fifty thousand people who want to be ballerinas, well, then, we have the infrastructure for them, and fifty-thousand ballerinas! And if everyone wants to be a Fire-Fighter, everyone can be a Fire-Fighter. We'll have the fires and life you want need care feel for all of that. And if everyone wants to be Wilt Chamberlain, then we'll all get to have sex with as many women as we need.
---------
Delivered Via Akasha

Plan For The Weekend

Eat. Plan for the weekend is to eat. No caffeine, no booze, no cigarettes or other forms of tobacco. And, oddly enough, no sex. At least not in the normal sense of the word. Not how I've been at it. I'm better mentally than before, but still want more. We need to keep on going. Write and Read and Consume massive amounts of water. I need money, and must move on. Damn, you know? Can't keep on like I have. Not unless I find a way to make more money and then do that too...We want to eat. We must sleep in. We might swim. We might make that happen. Hope so. Let's hope and strive to do this.

Proverbial Monkey

The weekends exhaust me. Feel as if I'm shoveling bucket loads of pearls before swine. And still not enough writing or other personal reading writing relaxing me time is done before having to go back to the perfectionist grind, where I have to be absolutely perfect, or transfix anon about every gesture thought word mannerism. (I'm on the train. Fireman. The need is to shovel as fast and efficient as can be. Half the time I'm like the proverbial monkey, humping the football.) Not a pretty sight. Never a good position to be in.
Message From Pisgah

Dream States Waking Nightmares and Other Stupidities

William McKenzie Neal
Dateline: Shell City. 80+ in shade. Breezy. Aeroplanes overhead. Laundry's going on. The backyard otherwise is nice. Too bad that after a time, the neighbors had no dogs nearby, we're hearing a couple of medium sized mutts and tiny Kick Me dogs yappin. Just wish for being indoors in the cool A/C (which we don't have), sippin W.T. 101, macerated mint, crushed ice layers too, as well as a bit of the Sugar In The Raw mixed in. Then we could accomodate Pork Chops, Green Beans, Field Peas, Butter Beans, Bread Rolls, iced tea, and peach cobbler, and or Lemon Meringue pie for dessert. Yeah, and you'd better take some Immodium too, check to see you don't have a criminal record, and try to lose your car keys. Hope and pray that later you wake up in the E.C.J.C., or Ole Miss Library, only to finish that 16 page paper on Molecular Biology, or Foreign Relations. Something.
Delivered Via Akasha

Loco for Doco

Out on the front patio now, in the shade, of course. Mike's Limeade. Turkey Burger Sliders. Sweet potato fries. Peach Cobbler and French Vanilla ice cream served by headless automatons, who give great foot massages. The Doctor just left. She says my eyes will come and go, and to forget about my knees. Keep swimming, but don't always insist on going alone, in the dark, and without a stitch of clothing. Too dangerous. "Danger is my middle name." I tell her with a straight face, and she slaps me hard across the cheek. After some table-tennis, (She wins, 2 out of 4 games we play.), off she goes in her new Tidemark Hydrogen powered sedan. {Wonder if she gets it that I LOVE her?}
Delivered Via Akasha

Time Is Irreverent

"WAKE UP! He can't remember where he was." --James Douglas Morrison.

Yesterday I saw a small baggy with red watermelon pieces in it. It struck me as odd because just a few minutes before, I witnessed a similar bag with same type fruit, in my meat and cheese drawer at home.
Today, I woke at what I thought was 2:30. What the hell. I get up at 3. I'm awake. Might as well get to it. Later, I noticed the time on the clocks in the kitchen while preparing the meals for the day. It's not even 2!! What the F?!
Needless to say, I ate the watermelon. Plenty of time to digest AND read a comic book, before heading to work to eat the apple, banana, etc. Yeah. Someone ran over that bag of melon yesterday. Dragged it all over that part of the lot. I will be EXHAUSTED come 2 o'clock THIS afternoon.
Delivered Via Akasha

Love looking at old pictures of L.A. Here's the corner of Pico and Western a few years ago:

Love looking at old pictures of L.A. Here's the corner of Pico and Western a few years ago:: Love looking at old pictures of L.A. Here's the corner of Pico and Western a few years ago:

Weird Al share old pics.

What I Didn't Do Today...

Usually when we have sex, we want to go brag and get drunk and smoke. Lately, I drive around, (in life in general), and not wanting any thing, I don't do much. It is enough simply to search for something to eat, eat, and buy a thing or four. And, usually more than that, much to my chagrin, but not always. Some times I'm quite happy with my manic spending spree. Yes, I do quite well with deals and organizing my time, getting things done. I like to think my days as a Production Ass (in Hollow-Wood), trained me to sort my trips out, so that I'd get as much stuff done in one stop as most do in 9 to 24. Productive!

Boo-Hoo, Tom's Depressed

Ok so maybe tom's depressed, but so what? Sorry Clint, it's going to take more than everyone of us giving up our Toyota's and Honda's to buy up GM's, to save us now. Syria's on Fire! Israel will sooner or later lash out on Iran, maybe before Summer, and I don't care how many Gung-Ho 'blockbuster' ACTUAL Seal Team Members used in filming, 'let's go kill us some 'enemy' over there', films are made, that I won't endure, when the real evil is within. Patriot Act still going strong. Prisons in the U.S., still being made, they're ready for all of us to revolt.
{From The Handheld}

MAYBE THIS WILL DO IT

My hand's got cracks all the time on the fingers. The local nuclear power plant's got leaks. And, I'm just killing time here, trying to find out why it is I feel so crappy. Oxygen? Lack thereof? I never wanted to...
Can't finish a sentence. Went by hardware store just now. Picked up 2 things. I'm really broke now. But, in my looking and checking things, I may just improve my lot by simplifying my Pad wants needs, and that Pen, I'll just get when I can and not have to worry about...it or anything else really. What am I saying? I can't sit in that chair by the computer and write. My ass hurts. I drift off mentally, can't focus, and I just waste my time. Can't easily realize what it is I want to say or search for, do it, get it done, then get off and Turn everything down, and get some sleep. Desperately need my sleep.
Ah, shit. My ticket. My confirmation. It's all in spanish. I need to call them up and confirm what to do. Get my printer working. (Needs new ink, not a new printer.) Print Pass from Home 72 hours before? And get into LAX, 3 hours ahead of time. Say, it's going to be busy. Oh hey. Oy!
Delivered Via Akasha

One Cheap Ugly Thing Turns Into The Other

Don't sleep much because I'm stressing. I stress because I don't sleep. I get depressed and I don't even know it. I'm too stupid to know, that, 'that', is what it is, what I'm facing. (I guess. I dunno.) It's been here all my life.
Think of my friend not so far away, and it's difficult for me to visit. It's too much. There's a psychological 'barrier' as it were with me there and it, and I don't know why. I don't breathe very well all throughout the night.
Even during the day, I stop breathing from time to time, and it adds up. Get busy, do, and it's right, wonderful, but if you mess with my logic, I blow up, typically, on you. Who's at fault? You? Me? My 'physicality'?
Delivered Via Akasha

HERE

Seems to me, I've got a title on this blog with such a heading. Well, this one's different. I've not much time and even less to impart, what, I've not even considered beforehand. Oh well. Done.
Delivered Via Akasha

How I Wish

Left our party early. Dunno why exactly. Ate well, up to a point, and then I ate crap, and had to leave, big time. I felt like crap. So sad lonely tired. Didn't know just what to do. My eyes were weepy. Had to leave. Didn't care. Just, left. Didn't say any thing to any one, and I don't think any one noticed. Felt like a ghost at my own funeral, or wake. Sad. Terrible. Ineffectual. How I wish I could have rewound the thing, started over, in a great mood, and enjoyed myself. Couldn't Can't Didn't Won't Don't. How I wish...nothing. Nothing now. Now I don't care. I'm here, I want some great food and good company, but I don't care. I want to write all the words down in order, that I thought about exactly as they came, this morning. I don't want to make something else up. I want exact, what I had, to come flowing, through pen, I like, exact, and know, and KNOW I know. The End.
{From The Handheld}

Simple Fix

And so, to fix the thing, because it didn't say or tell me directly in an email: Hey, we're changing the way you email mobile, I had to go in and find out for my self. Well, I changed the address in the Contacts file, and hope is, I won't have to keep now answering my computer's prompt here for which address? Because I deleted or changed the old one. So, how do I do that? Keep the BB here from asking me which one? I typed it already, and it popped out both with a window, asking...ah well, as long as the site accepts my addresses. That's the main thing. I went into the web site settings and selected Post Immediately for the options to these emails I send. And then just changed, but I guess maybe I shouldn't have, because now and maybe forever it will ask? Well, it wasn't on there, the secret words box, a box literally said that, and I was considering, well, let's think of something clever to put in there? Do I need to? What was there before? So. Here we go. Post!
{From The Handheld}

I Would Love To Be Able To

Kick people in the face, in the head, whenever they make you feel uncomfortable. They probably deserve it, and they have NO right making You, Mr Wisdom, Miss Innocent, out of sorts. A good quick blow to the noggin, which puts them out, allows for slow memory recovery, or none at all, is just what all these idjit-galoots deserve. Where do they get off, you know? Obviously not at the previous stop, which is where they'd be (Away from your proximity.), if they'd gone and done the sensible thing. But, they're not sensible folk, are they? That's why they're in your face, getting frustrated, then taking it out on you. Stupid.
Delivered Via Akasha

IT'S TIME!

OK. Enough! Time to END the Patriot Act. Stop all the fecking feckless corn-fed dog-shiite policies (foreign and domestic), and get back to business. Real Good Business. Good Neighbor Policies, etc. Do it. Do it Right. Do It Right NOW!!!

Facebook vs Twitter

The action is on Twitter. People are funnier. Both tend to ignore you however, unless you're super clever, or insulting.

THIS IS THIS

This is this, this is this. What the hell does that mean? This is this? It's not something else, Stanley. Not something else.
The Deer Hunter. A movie by Michael Cimino, was a real nut-cracker for people when it came out. Real good flick. American's dealing with Viet Nam, the war and how it affected us, in a small Pennsylvania town. Yeah. Impact. Crazy. Damn. Good film. Should see it again. If you've not. You should. It's not meant as any disrespect for any one who has served in the Military. It's just about people and their dealing with the crap of life. Real good, even or in spite of the dramatics of the piece. I mean, it is a movie after all. Every thing in that form, or book or play has a sort of arch drama to it...heightning things, presenting ideas emotions, trying to get keep you involved. Some times things work. Some times they do not. I tell ya, this one for the most part all works. Pretty much. Enjoy. The Deer Hunter.

The Last Hour, A DRAG!

That last hour before your parentals left for the weekend to leave you alone, was always a drag, completely the worst. You did yourself no favor by starting in early on your misdeeds, or, even waiting 45 minutes. Your best bet was to sit quietly or take a shower and clean your room, even then waiting at least 1\2 hour after they left, just to be sure.
Delivered Via Aether

STOP IT ALREADY!!!

OKAY! Right then. No more confessional CEO AD’s on TV, saying how we’re human, behind you, and every thing’s going to be okay. Sure, there’s plenty of oil in the U.S., in the North of America, but so what? For all that steam processing to get the shale out of the ground and into something useful, it’s going to kill us 4 thousand times over. And, 2030 is not that far away, right? We won’t have the infrastructure, the biosphere to subsist, much less exist. STOP IT ALREADY! And stop killing people over seas just to get oil in the guise of we’re doing this for democrazy. Whose? Yours? Mine? OURS? Certainly not THEIRS! That’s imperialism, insanity! STOP IT ALREADY!!

Why do we have to pay good money out for people who just can’t live alongside one another? People who say they’re so damned oppressed and crucified, HA! In the court of public opinion, that have camps for others they say are always hitting them first, and, we’re only retaliating because they bombed us. Well, who has them in Camps? Sections of the city you supposedly control and maintain with guns and razor wire? F-THAT, and F-YOU!! STOP IT ALREADY! I say the whole place is holy. Okay. Right. On that we agree, right?
Okay. FENCE THE PLACE OFF. KICK EVERY ONE OUT! NO ONE IS ALLOWED IN OR OUT, PERIOD! Install 20’ tall fencing, topped with glass and barbed wire that is electrified, and that if some one so much as goes within 10 feet of it, they’re reduced to ash, much like those “Ground Snakes” fire works you can still get at or around fireworks times in the U.S.A. Yes, you’re ground snakes, dark gray ash material. Vaporized I’d like to see. Lasers on turrets doing the trick, auto-magically. It’s holy after all, right? Right! Stop it already! We’re borrowing money from China to exist. We’re invading other countries like cysts or cancerous lesions, it’s crazy. WHY? To root out terror, evil? We’re the terrorists! We’re the EVIL! It’s US! Why are we going in for their oil? To bankrupt them? It’s bankrupting US, dumb-shits! Stop It Already!!

Thought I Was Going To Sierra Nevada

Went on a trip today. That's about the size of it. Went on a trip today and while I thought for sure the GOLD LINE Metro Rail was finished and was going to go the whole route, I went what I could and spent not a lot of money, but had one hell of a day just riding trains.
First a Japanese light rail Vehicle. Then, an Italian one. Next came the Deutsche, or German one...and that was the nice clean (newest) bugger of all three rail Vehicles that Los Angeles Metro Rail has. Quiet as well. By far the most quiet of the three. Most clean and new things are. But not all. Some clean and new things don't work worth a crap or damn or whatever. But not any of these trains. They ALL worked quite well, regardless of where they were "from". The Japanese trains had seats made in Canada. I don't know exactly where the others came from. Doesn't matter. Same bit of ugly multi-colored fuzzy carpet on the backs and seats. Majorly Dodger blue with colored balls on them, the colors of the various trains, and on the maps and route indicator placards, there are round colored circles on them with the same color scheme. Coincidence? DEFINITELY! They didn't plan this crap, no freaking way!
Guess I'll drive to Temecula tomorrow...or something like that. Maybe not. I'll let you know.

The Man With No Point

NEED seven 8 or at least three beers right about now. Acually 9 hours of sunlight just like this and this much warmth. I don't need any noise, just the ringing in my ears. I don't want any one calling me but for to come over and put some serious fox on my pox. I don't know otherwise. She won't call. Never did. But how is it she was insanely intense on me? Laughing, throwing her head back. What did she think? Who am I? That's what I was considering. Who am I? What am I doing here and when am I going to go back? When will I be able to? It's depressing, I tell you. All I want to do here is sit and read, and I can't even do that!

Sam Juan Hill

‪‪  "What in Sam Hill has gotten into you?" My Mother used to say. And "Jimminy Cricket!"
I consider 'ON' would be more apropos, no? What ON Sam Hill...if it's a Hill, and not...what, a person? Right. So, you know, San Juan. That was the Hill they stormed 'ON', right? WRONG! It was another next to it, a hummock, [Kettle Hill] that sounded less interesting, and so San Juan it was. Like, "He's Dead, Jim. He's dead." Okay. Proof! You don't need it. Take my word for it, all right? We don't do that kind of thing around here. Well, well, yes, in fact we do. But so what? When you go to get your passport, you get money to the original source, and they sort of make an original for you. And that's not a long form, and no one bitches and moans about it. In time your passport arrives, and these days, with an RFID. You could get a long/record of ... but that wouldn't be necessary. Because it just isn't. The long thing is something else. Part and parcel of your birth record, but so what? Jimminy Cricket! People, there are more important issues at stake. We're killing in Afghanistan; Cambodia, Laos, Paris, Paraguay, Iran, Syria, Iraq; wherever there's oil, right? People are being beaten at Sporting events for no good reason...and, as if there were a good one? What then? It's a Sporting event. We're all here/there to watch a show. Leave one another be. What in or on Sam Juan Hill, has gotten into you, onto us?‬
Delivered Via Aether

COLD

Ate Chicken Fried Steak, Green Beans, Mashed Potato and gravy. Had 4 small dinner rolls and some iced tea. Yet, am cold. I should be plenty warm, but I'm cold. It might be that I have a tiny abrasion on my skull, something to cry about, because my skull has been on fire these past few days, but nothing I put on would stop the itch. Tried several sprays and aloe-tea tree mix salves, and just nothing has done it...except caffeine, had a lot of late and that's even helped my pulled muscle or what as that on my right side, what pop-popped a week ago I can't say, but it's on/from a side I've had problems with from time to time, leaning over and bumping things and causing pain for about a month, which takes its time to abate. Whatever. Who cares? I scraped the skull just before going in for our meal out on the town this evening. Oh well. Hockey game in 25 minutes. Wish I had a beer and someone to have sex with. A large beer. An average sized, good-looking woman, who knows what I want, and can take care of me, with minor intervention on my part. I enjoy a smart woman, I must say.
Delivered Via Aether

There We Go

There we go. Had a pot of coffee yesterday, last night in fact, and STILL went pretty much right to bed. I've not had a pot of coffee (about 4 or 5 cups on this one), in years! Last I did that, I was up all night, walked to Hillsdale Shopping Center from my home in Foster City, and had the worst diarrhea anyone has ever known. It was two pots of espresso beans, and I was all by my self trying to write or not be bored or something. Dangerous either way, I tell you!
Went asleep last night with a pain in my head that visits today as well, and a pain that jumped on my chest at the last minute before slumber. (Chest pain, indigestion, is not evident now.)
I had been up super late the night before, and got up fairly early, and so I was going up doing most of the day with friends and some coffee, not a whole lot, but had some booze as well. 3 small beers, one, a Dos Equis 'amber' (headache inducer I think, but allergies do it most), and a Pacifico, which I enjoy more, then a pint bottle of extra hoppy stuff from Coronado, CA.
Then, later on, some Laprohaig whisky, and a Nat Sherman cigar. I only had a small snifter glass of the hard stuff, and a cube of ice with that. The cigar was good and bad, and I smoked it furiously as far down as I could. Tasting wet nasty-assed dirty tray flavored every now and again. Oh, well!
Couldn't concentrate or even relax much by myself then to watch some TV I'd recorded. I deleted several after only a few minutes. Was so bored. It's okay, but my headache...persists. Wish I could just you know, get on a plane or train in first class and have phone and tablet I want need and service that's as advertised, and just read and write and post away! I have so many too many fricken things to read, and not enough people to read me, or pay my way through this wonky syrupy sludge of an inexplicable, confusing existence. Enjoy!!
Delivered Via Aether

HEADACHE

HEADACHE. I mean HEADACHE. Wish it was because I've not had a cup of coffee for three days in a row but such is not the case. Wish it was because I have not had 6 or 8 small sized solid milk chocolate candy Easter Eggs, but such is not true. No. I've got a headache the size of Milwaukee and I don't know the culprit. I see all right. I haven't been reading...been in the house and I'm a little off. Don't know why.
This is the first journal entry in here in a while. I don't know why. I can't get my brain around it. I don't have the mobile blog effort going. I can't blog there. I don't know how/why. It's annoying. I could text if I could get it going but don't want to text blog. That's DUMB. Besides, the links they tell you to go to and what to do to get it going, doesn't work so far...so, F that...besides, I don't need to be texting in my posts. The blog is for sentences and paragraphs. Concepts. Things. Ideas. Stories! So, they don't happen with Tweets. Which is what texting is to me. I don't want to use all my Texts for the month on this.

TITLED BLISS

Well, another cat has passed on as they say. She was looking at the water from the overflow area of the jacuzzi, sipping water, sitting, laying down and sleeping. She stared out at the water, maybe that's where her neighbor buddy brother cat died, in the water, (I know this for a fact, it did die in the water, or I found him there and fished the poor bugger out.), and she later died herself, in the flower bed, under my window.

12:32 A.M. PACIFIC

Finally are we satisfied? Did we do the damage to the finances etc that we wanted and needed to do, to be wholly content? I certainly hope so. I've spent enough money. Too much. Must find out. Feels over the limit, way out of line. I have to stop. I now know that I must heed these last "friendly" warnings...who knows? I may not survive to pass this way again...well, enough quoting the speaker utterances of the Pirates Of The Carribean ride at Disneyland...dead men do tell tales, and most good writers are dead long gone and who cares about that? I don't. Certainly. Who? A bunch of crap is on its way. I want to get laid and get a new phone tomorrow...as well as do laundry and see a bunch of movies. I have the over whelming feeling or had it on my way home from Long Beach tonight, of my weekend being over. I hate that feeling...usually I feel it hit me on my Friday night...and it hit again, per usual...and dammit all I had earlier the feeling overwhelming too when I was trying to sleep, take a nap earlier, (Something I rarely do.) that, saying to myself, I wouldn't mind seeing/having 3 or 18 weekends come and go and have my self spend not a cent on any thing but food for the week, you know? That's why I cry, but not why my eyes hurt. (Can't figure that one out.) My mouth is not so dry. I don't feel as if there's bile and I just must you know get to bed right now. Busy day tomorrow. Lot's of things to do and hard decisions to make.

Trying Doing Something

Oh, man. We really want to do something good for people before we leave this big dump of a planetary orb. Yeah, give back to something that has given us way too much. We don't know what to do. We're approaching the 50 year mark and we're as hopeless and enfeebled as we were when we first stumbled upon the linoleum or whatnot surface as that around 1962 or so, when we really got around. We were born in the Winter of 61' and all HELL was about to break loose. If you look at things now a bit, you'd think or see/say much the same. It's freaking CRAZY around here. People dying, protesting, going bankrupt, going to hell, STUPID! LAME! Incredibly dumb. What can be done? What on earth do we do? I am simply at a loss, completely overwhelmed. Sorry. Good Night, poopers. Good Night!

Kristina and Richard

OXFORD, MISS.

WELL, there you have it. Richard and Kristina (his wife) FORD will be at OXFORD TOWN for the New Year, a teaching and making money, a steady paycheck a piece, and you won't be there. No. No you won't, because that's for people who're writers. Folks who are signed up for classes and enrolled at the University of Mississippi, the place where Faulkner, William Clemmons Neal, Thomas Ellis Neal, and Neesa Neal all went for school. But YOU can't go. NO. You have perhaps DECADES of "learning". Hoops and Chutes which you cannot afford and ultimately do not have the life to live through, to get. FUCK!!

I Know But I Don't Know

I don't know why I don't know, what I don't know. If I knew that, why, I'd know everything!
Delivered Via Aether

EYE BODY HEALTH NET

My eye (on the left side) is better now. I can see how I need to put warm compresses on it where I haven't...just been too busy, and, have wanted needed, desired, to go to bed, to sleep, (very much so,)during the work-week.
My body is okay but I want change, from this to that. Out of here. It's okay. Healthy enough, I suppose, but, whatever. We've got it...just like, we've got net now, since for 5 weeks it seems, we've not had it. But, dunno, maybe it's only been three.

One Blog One Post

One Blog, One Post, I don't think so. I have not blogged in here in quite a while, not from home, not from this computer, and certainly not from this here new-fangled goddamned expensive TV screen! But so what? Who cares? I'm nothing new and mostly borrowed. Oh well. Moving on. NEXT!!!

Body Search The Wrong People Who Fly, Or, We're So Reactionary

If the U.S. is going to be in my uterus, it may as well be up my keester. And, if it's going to be on my groin, it might as well give me a 'happy ending'. I get more than just a little 'nervous' flying. ;)
{From The Handheld}

Getting Over Hump Day

Getting out my delicious blue black ink'd Japanese version of the Jetstream, and scribbling my thoughts on the Moleskine pocket notebook.
{From The Handheld}

FEAR

SAT. NOV. 13, 2010
JAMES ELLROY, will be at South Coast Village theatre adjacent at 10 a.m., if all goes according to plan, and I will as well. I want to see him, hear him, catch the 'nuttiness' that is the phenomena of a writer and quite the pre-eminent guru guy of L.A. Crime Noir, esp sic HIS life starting out, was indeed, 'that' (His mother was brutally raped, and murdered when he was just a kid).
'We Have Nothing To Fear But Fear Itself', our 'Father' of a President of our Nation, who once used to deliver 'Fireside Chats', which most people caught onto by the radio, not a fireplace. Certainly not his. He was too rich, too inaccessible. Most Americans never even knew he was 'disabled' as it was called back then, or different, maybe 'special'. What it was, was Polio, no?
Our FEAR, or what it is, isn't really the thing itself, but a Flash Bang Horror Hell (Our Most Unwanted) realization, that we have to make a decision, DO IT RIGHT NOW!!! And we may not want to. We may not have all the facts with which to make an informed, considered, thought process. We may be incapable, incapacitated, as it were, with the inability, to RUN! Because we don't have the use of our legs, or there's this Precipice at our end of the tunnel, and there's the Monster quickly gaining on us from the other direction.
NO, it may not be the thing itself. It may be CHANGE. Yeah, we fear it in that we're totally comfortable with our current run of precepts, intuition, assumptions, beliefs, for who, what, where, when, how, why things are, the way, they are. And, we don't want to change that. We don't want to have to jump into, be poured into, have poured onto us, a whole new set, series, or just influx of information, we have neither time or inclination, to process.
It's quite a thing to have to deal with chaos ongoing on a daily basis, it's exhausting. Who wants it? Who needs it? I don't, you?
And that's what life is, constantly, having to negotiate with yourself, with others, with the elements, things, on a constant basis. All of this, all of that, all of everything, all at once, is FEAR! The horror, the horror, the horror.

{From The Handheld}