The Diary Project

Weekly Journal

A Little Work - A Little Play

Spot The UFO, it is a picture of the sky with a plane, the background is wavy and distorted and highly reminiscent (though, a bit of an exaggeration) of how I view the sky these days through my naked eyes, wavy little distortions

The Sky
As I See It

Stormy Weather

7:37AM: Up early. Tired. But I'm not falling asleep.

DREAM: So, I paid for my meal at a nice buffet. But the manager would not give me any change. I think it would have been easier to ignore him... or let the entire thing go.

FOOD: Egg on Toast

I spent the morning preparing creative items for posting.

A Major Storm Front is headed this way. Should be fun. But it will be over before it begins.

Not much of a storm... in my neck of the woods.

MUSIC: Pop Stuff mostly. It took me awhile to find something in which I was interested.

EYES: They were pretty clear earlier. I'm on Dorzo. Off Allergy Antihistamine.

MEDIA: I can nap to DefCon Videos... easy.

House Hunting

DREAM: Chocolate and Nut filled Ice Cream Cone. Upon waking I paid The Man (it was too expensive In Dream) and ate the thing. (It remains hard to imagine eating this without being concerned about chipping a tooth.)

DREAM: Bacon Bars... which were very similar to Chocolate Bars.

DREAM: Roller Skating through Water, Ice, and down a Vehicle Ramp that was a lot like a Low Flow Waterfall.

Karma is just my way of F'ing you up!

WRITING: Once again, it feels like a light day. Working on The Journal and Data Dump. I need an evening project, because that's pretty close to what I am going to do on the day.

MUSIC: Katy Perry - Firework

We drove about looking at houses. Maybe, we should get one. Maybe, there's a million better ways to spend a small fortune. Personally, I'm on the wall {or is being on the fence a better metaphor} about the entire thing.

Good Sunset Pictures. Maybe, the basis for a Rant... maybe. Or I could just post the winner(s) at the top of this page. {The Winner tops the page, while Second Place will top whatever I end up calling Leviathan.}

Odin Comes Knocking

DREAM: In a car, another driving, slipping wheels on mud, it was quite fun. Standing in a pool, putting together a plan to sell 1,000 high quality umbrellas for another. Finally, I need clothes, but school is over, so I run through the building (while classes are obviously still in session) to get garments, which are in Room 110 or so. The school is huge with a long twisting layout. Of course, I'm already dressed as I make my way through the building.

Is there something about sunrise (even this far inside a 'cave'), which makes it time to wake up?

Maybe, it's just time to get up?

I did for awhile. Then, it's sleepy times, again.

DREAM: The neighbor's babysitter was making the rounds saying goodbye. And if it could be said wrong, I managed to. Also, I couldn't find that fun piece of paper... which was just as well, as I had a hunch it was going to be pretty incriminating.

DREAM: He had three eyes, which was pretty cool. But it all ended with the dead Rising from their graves, like in some cheesy animated comedy.

WRITING: Preparing old Creative Projects (so, they are not so much Writing Projects) for The Data Dump.

WALK: Eyes closed, I stepped on a Baseball. It's amazing how much my eyes are closed as I walk about these days... and how many Baseballs there are to find.

Nothing here. Nothing there. Just nothing. Maybe, the sun.

Seventeen Counted Out = 1 + 1 + (1/5) + (1/2) + (1/2) + (1/2) = 17. I haven't gotten that far yet. It's really just an idea. I could go plus or minus.

Let Lightning Strike

DREAM: So, are you saying, it turns out He was gay?

Second and third sleep.

Everyday is different with its own problems and rewards.

Whether one knows it or not (are on top of it or not... control it or not), everything must be decided.

The exceptions are processes of perfect execution, which are put into a holding pattern of Eternal Acceptance... until things go wrong.

Um, and if I stop to mull it over over for a moment or two, that last just means a passing grade. It is no more praise than damnation. It's a classification decision: Working, no need to review at the moment.

DISHWASHER: Past Life (or fantasy historical flashback in support of philosophy). Dishwasher on Viking Ship (part of attack (one way or another), armed with a mop (because it is the longest cleaning implement available)), Pirate Ship ("The head is part of the galley. Clean It!"), and Hindu Caste (the normals cede to those of the caste (dirty muck rake in hand), until they meet The High, "Low cede to High, as High cannot even see low." "But you see me enough to note the offense, Mr High & Mighty?")

DISHWASHER: Needs to become one of the characters I play and/or impersonate.

I don't think family has ever been the happy part of my day. I mean, clearly at one time it was (or was it always a mixed blessing). But at some point, that changed.

MUSE: Dishwasher and The Hive Mind are the big stories rolling around in my head right now. For The Hive Mind we have Daphe (competent straight-laced professional), Daffy (terminally happy playful spirit), Melody (punk rock stripper party girl), all rolled into one, different faces (and/or secret identities, if you prefer) for the same girl. I do not have the male counterpart, as of yet... nor a transitional plot.

"I'm so low caste, I'm High".

MUSIC: Beatles

Time Passes

DREAM: I traded (sort of pawned, actually) what was said to be a microscope (but which I think more of as an air conditioner). There was disagreement on the pricing. Man, was he strong... a body like granite. I should have just accepted his two ratty (and sewn together: i.e. reconstructed) five dollar bills... the later being a call to honour (or dishonour), if you ask me.

It's just as easy to use Political Correctness for Evil as Good.

EYES: I think they get worse on sunny days after rain, following the Pollen Cycle. They're pretty bad, today.

WALK: Another Ball. Seriously, how? Why? Three in fact.

Life is long and hard and hardly ever worth the effort. {Clearly, I am doing it wrong.}

Sometimes Boring Is Good

DREAM: I couldn't try on the good jeans (which I had no intention of buying), as I wasn't that good of a customer. But a friendly sort gave (i.e. offered to give) me a pair of pants he didn't want. But I suggested he return them instead, because they were 34 waist and I'm at least a 36 if not 38. But upon waking, the pants fit perfectly. {If Dreams annoy me, I rework them upon awakening.} So clearly, Dream Sizes mean little. And that {Size 34} would have been the old perfect size. So clearly, the jeans were intended to fit.

{I Dream. I awaken. But my eyes still swirl as if in The Dream State. They are still focused on their sub-groupings. And I see Visions... of sorts.

In this state, I feel that Re-Working A Dream is fair, that it is close enough to The Dream State that any changes count.

Meaning, I didn't so much decide the jeans would fit, as try them on. And in that other Dream I previously recounted, rather than deciding the Chocolate Candy Ice Cream Cone was going to be hard to eat, the part of my brain that decides such things did not want to go along and allow me to take a bite... you know, just as it might veto the idea of chomping down on a rock, bolt, or nail.

I'm still enough In Dream that I consider it a Dream Decision... not a concious one.

In short, if I had put the jeans on the first time around In Dream, I am sure they would have fit... or so point all the signs.}

DREAM: I got pictures of the landing helicopter, very close. As I did, I noticed access to the crane control booth (call it a crow's nest, as that's the sort of place it was) had become much steeper with open stairs (unsafe) instead of ladders (which, at least, one can cling to). {Sure, one is more likely to fall from a ladder. But one is more likely to hook an arm or leg into a rung as a last chance measure to prevent a great fall. Of course, the truth is that those stairs were so steep (like on a ship) that they should have either been slid down or used like ladders.}

21 counted out for The Morrow.

WRITING: Nadia's Diary... The Magazine Project.

FOOD: Pork Loin w/ Baked Beans and Mashed Potatoes

MEDIA: Cats {This didn't last but ten minutes.}

MUSIC: The Wanted - Glad You Came

It's a long evening of doing nothing. Basically, I'm bored. Which is another way of saying, I don't feel much like doing anything.

MUSIC: Lots. And Lots. Mostly pop. Though, I threw a Viking Saga in there, along with everything else.

I'm having a pretty good time being bored.

I get Sea Sick if movies are shaky. We tried a lot of titles that turned out to be shaky today. Shaky is less expensive (and trendy), so it is the way of the future.

It's Tomorrow! Time to Party!


DREAM: I should have eaten a Salami Sandwich. They looked good. But I wasn't hungry and couldn't even taste the two free samples.

DREAM: I am quite certain part of my desire to hyper-organize my life comes from wanting to be ready to go In Dream Land. Let's have none of this sorting nonsense.

Sing to your babies. Knock that past life right out of their heads.

Do You Want Your Lectures to have Surprise Endings?

I'm so locked-up in the World of Ideas, I think Writing is Giving Something Back... you know, in return for all The Material Resources I've used over The Years. But then, I haven't used all that many resources compared to The Average Bear.

I like the idea of attending to a select few (many, or all) Inanimate Objects, seeing them (and/or playing and interacting with them) as if they were Living Souls, complete with Egos, Personality, and Desire. Imagine the intrigue.

MUSE: Gabby talks to her furniture. It's a romance. I'm looking for the lead... or at least, what it would take: Cooking, Cleaning... so, clearly A Handy Man.

Feng Shui All The Way: Only The Best Will Do

Some Futures are good. And some Futures are bad. But in all Futures, all I have to do is be happy.

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You want me to summarize the week after the fact?
Good luck with that.

Certain sadnesses receded, as did certain happinesses...
while there were gains on both fronts, as well.

© copyright 2020 Brett Paufler