Never Give Up, Never Surrender

Just for the record, in case someone ever wants to misinterpret my meaning, what I am referring to is hope. Never give up, never surrender on hope. Hope is the essence of conscious life energy that I will never give up on. Fear is the antithesis of life energy that I will never surrender to. Never is such a powerful concept, such an impossible magic for us in this linear timeline. I still reach for it in this case, with this commitment. Never give up on hope. Never give up on love. Never give into fear. Never give into hate. Hope and love are strength. Fear and hate are weakness. Violence can end a life, but it can not sustain life. You want to die, die. You want to kill, kill. You want to destroy everything, destroy everything. You will be nothing, probably forever. What's the point then? Didn't want to feel? Didn't want to risk the bliss? Afraid of loss? Fear, there it is, you lose the moment you give into it. Your choice. I choose hope and love. It feels better, much better.

NGUNS. Interesting anagram, isn't it?

Narf :)

Can You hear Me Now?

Even if you are not listening, you might hear me in your dreams as I send out psychic forces to haunt you into submission to my incorrigible will. You will not destroy yourself if I can help it. Love, love, love, that is the strange misty fog clouding your brain in the middle of the night and yes, it comes from me. I know you've given up believing. I know you've given up on hope. On humanity. On life. On yourself. I know you just go through the motions one by one, sighing and dying and forgetting how to care. Life has taken some sorrowful turns. Most of us compromise so much we forget who we are, what we really wanted out of life, and what really matters to us. Some never even has the luxury of free time to think about it, no less figure it out. We rush through life so much from so early on, to grow up and work ourselves to death for an illusion of freedom and independence, that we miss the point and make no point, pointless, scoreless, we feel like losers shut out of the comfortable carefree imaginary lives we watch on TV. Placated by vicarious thrills, momentary winks, grand delusions of some promised future paradise, and impulsive instant gratifications of sensory pleasures, life is gone before we even realize it was ever here, or what we were here for. Still, let into the night, a strange mist calls out, like a magnet it draws us toward it. That is the energy of hope that I am sending out. May you always find it, if only in your dreams.

Of A Life

I never say goodbye to a past life (past life) for each represents someone I love (at least one). There are also the letter books in storage from the time before the internet (yes, there was such a time), but even since the cyberspace invasion there are many previous lives (previous lives) and if I gave a letter to each one to signify identity, so far there would be E and C(n), harkening back to goo (or something like it, when the alphabet began, though come to think of it, G was pre-blogging and still never had a book at the time, or a name, for that matter, in case it matters, for she repressed the writing, singing, creativity and I wonder if that was conscious, jealousy, or some sort of misandry, or something like that... see, we did get to that phrase just the same, snarky mischief maker, all), and starting with A, even though there were scattered pages before that, but returning to the cyber-past, there have been more than those two reincarnations (reincarnations) in these online written gardens (written gardens) and not all mine (not mine, yet me, aye Z?), for hope returns and love never dies (remember the fifth and sixth and more, never give up, never surrender, no matter how dark the dark may seem {maybe, what?}, there are still ancient heartbeats {heartbeats}, sleeping, if you can find them), and since the beginning (with pen and paper, offline), long ago (long ago there was no end (no end) in sight, so I still never say goodbye to the past lives (past lives) in this life.

Loving Limerence

I have very different deep down priorities and interests than anyone I know, but that's besides the point, whatever the point is. Limericks, or something like that. I can be quite obsessive though. Not so much for people anymore, but I used to. Yes, I loved my limerences. Some might say dalliances, but I was all in. People have disillusioned me though and most repulse me now on just about every level, but especially emotionally. I find fear and anger and negativity repulsive and as far as I can see, that's increasing in humans. It seems like we are heading for another self-destructive world war or other species reducing calamity. The planet needs it and whether nature does it to us from outside or inside our heads, it happens again and again throughout history to all species like us. Intelligent life would be learning from past mistakes and not just repeating them. Still, there's hope, I hope.

Hey Hey Johnny

Wow, this started so long ago (in an echo) and I finally started posting years later (like an echo) and it has been years since (we heard the echo)... we can wonder why (the ego) if you want to, but for the moment, since you are not asking (at the moment of this writing in case someone does not know how relative time is on the internet as I write and may edit and post at three separate times and you likely read at at least a fourth time and, well, time is relative as it is, but even more so in blogs on the internet. Still the time date stamp may be accurate sometimes, which just adds to the relativity and amuses me as most things do eventually while I am writing... it's why I write (ego echo), in case you wondered and didn't know, among other reasons, but I believe digression shall conclude now and whatever it is I came here to write might actually happen), we'll just continue with whatever I came here to write), I wait until you do. Wide-eyed and narfing away :)

Empathy

I’ve got to get up early in the morning. Softball practice around the corner from where I just left. My close friends live there and yet I’m not invited to stay, over for a few hours. So I drive 30 minutes back here and I drive 30 minutes back there in the morning just a few hours from now. Wasting time that I could be sleeping. Wasting gas and putting wear and tear on the car. That’s what my friends what let me do. They all have extra rooms in and extra beds. Maybe I just don’t understand how it makes sense to them, but it doesn’t make any sense to me. Somehow that does not fit my definition of a friend. But those are the people who call themselves friends today. People just don’t seem to want to give or share or care, at least not how I define it or do it. That makes me sad.Maybe I am just more sensitive than well, more sensitive than I should be? That seems to be excusing insensitivity to me. I could be wrong. Still, I wouldm't let a friend lose sleep just to come play with me, not when I have the space to share. I don’t know how to love less. To care less. To give less. To share less. Less than that seems cruel to me. And I will not do it. So if I am more sensitive than I should be, then I am. I would not be happy being any other way.

ADHD, Maybe

I refuse meds. I've learned to enjoy the merry-go-round in my head. Sometimes it's a kaleidoscope, Sometimes it's a starry night. I've succeeded, I've failed, I continue. I gave up living a normal life or finding a permanent relationship (no I haven't... shhhh... if someone understands they might stay and share the dream) and I'll work until I die because I give everything away. I live in the moment, swim through the loneliness, try not to drown, and challenge my brain to find fun and humor in everything cuz it's there. I'm too stubborn to stop believing in love. Never give up, never surrender. There are cartoons playing in my head all the time and life somehow fits in now and then. Writing (babbling) maintains my own version of sanity. Perhaps you'v noticed. Self-therapy. Creativity. Communication? I read my words and feel less alone. I'm inside and outside and keeping myself company. I take a lot of abuse along my way, smile, and continue on my way. Sometimes someone rides along on this journey through this world. Those are amazing, wonderful moments. This is my experience. Loving every minute of it, even as I wish I could share it more. Anybody understand? There's always hope.

Cereal Box Philosophy

Writing, food, and love. I sometimes get bored, I often get tired. Boredom comes less often because I amuse myself well and I am amused easily). Tired comes daily as the body requires sleep to function at optimal levels. I do get bored engaging in the same activity for too long, day after day. I tired of repetition eventually, except in a few areas. That which I tired of or get bored with least are writing, food, and love. Writing is my mind expressing itself and I rarely tire of or get bored with me, so even when the world outside my head offers the same patterns for too long, I close my eyes and watch my world unfold before me. Food is sensory pleasure, so I seem to tire of or find it boring almost never. I don't recall a time, but never is probably not true. Love is my highest euphoria. The dream of it, the sharing of caring, helping, giving... I don't think I've ever gotten bored with love, yes, never. It is possible I have tired of limitation or superficial love that everyone I've ever met offers. What I do tire of is working so hard to find ways to love people. I tired of the fears and walls and defenses and cruelties people use to keep honest love away. So I suppose eating is the activity I resort to most often since it does not require another living thing (it only requires the dead things I eat). No wonder I am dying lol. Gotta love this life, at least until it's over, it's all we've got. And love, even alone, is better than not love. So write, eat, and love. That's my philosophy for a happy life. :)

What Was This For

Was this for fun, a tongue in check representation of the mass market futility of production and packaging in this overtly commercial culture that places profit over people and life itself? Just another attempt to write the perfect paragraph> Is that what I've been attempting over the years? Is that the dream? But dreams are so fragmented sometimes, even remembering them can be more confusing than it's worth. High blood pressure complains down my arm. I had a dream, he said. Repeatedly. Mountaintops and subway cars. Planes, trains, and opportunities missed. A crazy dream, but more stupid than crazy, but whatever. Nobody cared except for one person who cared ambivalently or partially or inconsistently or out of guilt or for selfish or mixed reasons, but not just to care. Feeling so alone in this world that even the dreams regurgitate abandonment and confusion over why it keeps happening again and again and from birth. And so suddenly. Why do I keep trusting people. Why don't I see it coming. I understand how weaker minds without a sense of self or write and wrong and some delusional belief in some reward after death can become serial killers or mass murderers. The human mind is so stupid at this stage of development. I wonder why I continue to care. No less feel good and happy. Narf :)

Bet You Can't Click The Whole Thing

As if out of the blue, yet seemingly long forgotten, though time being relative, long is a matter of perspective, this was supposed to mean something, profound, even. Revealing as all get out. Kinda of like this, but oh so much more. Beyond my control, by design. As if it was meant to be not, I seem to do it regularly and each time (oh, listen {oo wah oo} do you want to know a secret {ooo wah ooo} do you promise not to tell {oh wah oh oh} closer.... ahem), I want there to be no way out and still somehow, I find ways. Ways to forget. Ways to laugh at all the momentary mundane drama we create as if we are so important and what we think and do matters so much and laguishing in a dirty bath of wonder and self-pity, silently screaming who cares to the universe over and over again singing hello darkness my old friend and meandering as if simultaneously nothing really matters and nothing else matters when we all know nothing from nothing leaves nothing... oh! the places we could go (or could have gone, perhaps, but the record of a life is broken because it never really started and it succumbed to time and the elements in storage all these years (before the deluge, even... before time itself, no doubt - see the madness and emo, if you dare) and no one seems to really want to know what makes me tic anymore, if anyone ever did, in case it matters.

You Said

You may have even promised. You are not alone. More than a few have promised. You said you were my BFF, what did that mean to you? Best friend forever? Obviously not. You said you would never abandon me like everyone else did in this life. You said you understood how much that hurt. You said you would pay back all the money you borrowed and stole. we never even figured out how much, but you forgot or ignored what you said. You abandoned me and only really talk to me when you need something, money, support, something. The memes and emojis are not really sharing. They are not asking how are you? as if you really want an answer, as if you really care. I don't understand how you can disassociate from the promises, from the words you said, and pretend it does not hurt me. You seem to want reassurance of some sort, a smiley face response to your smiley face. I give it because that is who I am. A child desperate for someone to care about me and not abandon me. You said you did. You said you wouldn't. Where are you now?

Torn

Still idling and avoiding the one before. Torn. Yes, there's a song in the title and es, it's probably the one you are thinking of. I am torn between respecting the privacy just about everyone seems to want and expressing myself freely and openly on the web which is what I want. how to I express myself freely and share my life openly when people in my life do not want any mention of any conversation we might have online? It makes no sense to me to hide your live away no matter how much hurt can come from trusting and sharing and caring. IT makes no sense to me to give any less than everything to the dream of finding the one who shares as I do, cares as I do, sees and hears and feels as I do. I do not understand why anyone would want to live alone and hidden from the world when for me, sharing is what life is for. Yet again and again I am told that something I wrote hurt someone I care about because the words they inspired me to write were private. As if I am violating their privacy by letting them inspire me to express myself. It hurts me to think my words expressing who I am hurt someone. But this is my dream, to quest for understanding here, there, and everywhere. How can I actualize my dream of sharing me if I hold back who I am?

Avoiding, Maybe?

My first thought is not really avoiding, maybe procrastinating and then I think, not really procrastinating, maybe stagnating and then I think, not really stagnating, maybe idling and then I think, yeah, idling is more than any of the other descriptors what I am doing in life these days. Maybe this is a reminder that I have not made a record of a life entry in ages (right?). Maybe this is a reminder that I have not made an entry here in this blog in ages. Yes, avoiding the previous entry. Yes, procrastinating about moving into a more comfortable space because the uber conveniences of my current location. Yes, stagnating on a few levels, but that requires a whole lot more time and words and analysis. Yes, idling, that is where I am at today. Waiting to see if anyone cares (especially one) but that does not keep me where I am. What keeps me idling in a comfort zone and settling for less comfort and a whole lot less space and amenities and stuff of my own, but convenience. 6 blocks from work. Enjoying self-indulgences and daily pleasures. Saving $, mostly. A change would be welcome, but only a change for the better, overall. Feel free to apply within. :)

Of A Sort

. o O ( and then... suddenly... after all this time... this needed to come out ) O o .

She called me BFF, she has no time for me. for many years we lived together, i was there for her anytime, in the middle of the night when she was sick, the go to ride whenever she needed a ride, to talk her down from self-harming, whatever the hour - to the airport, appointments, when her car was serviced, if there was ever an emergency, i'd drop everything and be there, i even paid most of the bills for the years we lived together and then she fell in love and i was so happy for her and then moved 20 minutes away and we never see each other like we live a million miles apart and just when I needed a friend most, she stopped being there for me at all. Maybe she never really was. That last thought is even more painful than being abandoned.

You think you know me?

Dietary Decisions

Some of you may know that I chose to eat a vegetarian diet for many years and chose to live a Vegan life for a few years. Ethical considerations were even more influential than health at those times in this life, though there may have been a lot of health benefits as well. Along the way I continued learning about diet and decided to return to eating meat. The initial and primary cause was personal economics, but taste bud pleasure and social interaction supported the decision. Ultimately, the meat industry is cruel and I would prefer all of my food to grow on organic farms. For the moment, after reading, pondering, and growing (which includes growing more cynical and disillusioned with humanity, though that is not the primary impetus for my reasoning), I decided that I will live as an omnivore. This thought stream is not about whether I am a victim or supporter (or both) of the current self-destructive suicidal human culture (feel free to discuss it as you wish). It is about wanting to go to the 2016 Festival of Bacon. Wanna come?

Nothing Magical

No, there is nothing magical here tonight. Just me stopping by to say I am still alive. Catching up has not been the wondrous creative experience it can sometimes be (especially when I have the time) and maybe that is because I tied myself so solidly to a weekly routine of interaction with others that do not venture into the imagination or the physical world as I do when I am flying on my internal highs. Listening to Melissa Etheridge tonight has reminded me of how far I've wandered from myself (questions?). A moment of lucidity brings this musical memory of me...

the deluze edistion of the original album


the simple original album (if you don't have the time)


the amazingness of live



More More More

What is Love?

Love is relative. I sensed a friend who asked the title question was focused on the love between people, but I thought it through from the big picture encompassing all love and in all meanings of the word I believe it is strongly based on how something or someone makes us feel. I think that we are all self-motivated if we can we strip away the political correctness and education about "how to be good" we get growing up. Even those who are powerfully altruistic find great joy in the act of giving and helping others. We may not want to see it that honestly for it can be viewed as selfish, but it is only selfish if it is not honest. Honesty and love make us very vulnerable and that risk can distort our perceptions, blocking love we might want to give or receive and giving or accepting as love that which may not actually be love. Within the fear of the risk of loss, in this life, most of us have little time each day to stop and feel and share the stillness inside where love comes from. Too many give up and settle for less depth and quick emotional rushes.

For instance, when I click "Love" on Facebook, I sometimes am sending a hug from the deepest part of my being and sometimes I am loving the idea someone shared. It can be an easy and perhaps diminished experience of love as is many online or offline experiences can be in our world today. That may be all some people want out of love, to hear (or read) caring words. Some want complete immersion of every facet of being and life, a sense of two beings becoming one (and believing that can happen is not always easy in this world as I've been there and have the scars to prove it lol). Ultimately, I believe love is an individual experience and that experience defines love for that individual. Two who share the same experience share the deepest love.

At least that is my experience, so right or wrong, it's right for me.

Dressed and Ready

How do you talk to someone who hurt you when you want them to stay family and yet they simply do not keep their word and omit that fact from any conversation as they smile and tell you they love you every day? I suppose you get busy with life and seldom see them and ignore the hurt whenever you do see them. So I am sitting here dressed and ready to head out to lunch with Jackson and wondering if I will be able to not mention any of the depressing reality stressing me out to the point where it is interferring with sleep and probably causing some nightmares about abuse. I so rarely remember dreaming, but lately have been awakened by nightmares a few times and that simply sucks. I must delve into it and resolve issues and process information differently so my mind stops that. Moving on and letting go, yes, that is part of it. Finding another job will allow me to do that. Obviously that is one reason I am not looking for a job. The bottom line is that I do not want to move on and let go, I want to believe in Jackson and believe she will follow through on her promises. So I am dressed and ready to go to that party and just waiting for her to start. Until then, I'll go to lunch, her treat, and talk about anything she wants to talk about. Family.

Will Work For Money

I will work for food too, but I have a car to pay off and I really do not want to lose it. That is a scary thought and writing this is painful. I have always been so stubbornly independent and self-sufficient and will remain so, but I can appreciate help at the moment. I am not working and have been struggling to find a job while also struggling to make ends meet. Anything you can spare will help and please know your generosity will be blessed in words or anonymously as you wish. Name your reward and I will do everything in my power to give it to you.

PO Box 162843
Altamonte Springs, FL 32716

Job offers are very welcome.

Yes I did (Go There)

I refer to this entry, in which I referenced my libido and what attracts me physically, sensually, sexually, and beyond the written word, in case it matters. The linkage to more information about what inspires me to want a friend to become a lover (you thought maybe I would not have a blog for that?) and what makes my Libido tic (and toc and wanna dance, for starters) and ways of my heart and mind (see the BIOS for a start) are popping up again thanks to the physical labor I did not expect to do, but enjoyed doing today. I even included photos (won't that get you to click on the links lol lam laa). If you want to be my lover, you may need to jump through hoops. At least read more and ask questions. Yes I did go there. Why so serious? If you do not understand my silence, you will not understand my words. It is this simple. You simply must understand or take it on faith, in my world, especially in intimacy, unconditional trust rules.