The Diary Project


One Endless Saturday Afternoon

Black Outline Filter of a Hawk Sitting in a Tree           Black Outline Filter of said Hawk taking flight from Tree (img_work watermark)

A-AI: Advanced. Advanceable. Aware.

God does not and cannot know if He's God or god: a sub-function or the final-function.


FEEL: Anger... but interestingly enough, not hate. At a certain point, I tend to shout. It was really more of a adrenaline build up.

It's what you {I, we, whatever} were doing. It's what you were always doing. You just didn't know it... not quite yet, not at the start.

I expect to be angry until I scrape the sludge {of this, that, and the other thing} from my soul.

Maybe, that thought slipped through; and that is why I can no longer recall.

One is complicit, whether they like it or not.

Importance fades along with the feelings.

I am saying goodbye.

I don't feel like I am missing anything.

That's the problem.
That's the solution.

We no longer share Truth, a truth, or The Truth.


WALK: Sunset Time!

Disgraceful behaviour deserves contempt.

OM: Lying in bed, this side of sleep, breathing, just breathing, coming to reality, just now. Thinking and sleep are at odds. And sleep is the harder to achieve.


One need not know the truth in order to recognize a lie.

I'm zeroing out the node.

Node: Person/Place/Thing
Edge: Relationship/Interactions

WALK: Fireworks. At a Distance. But there was some sound.

"It's Capitalism, Spotted Snow Owl. And you got to earn your keep."

Well, so, maybe, you's are often in wanting of quotation marks.

Since I would not speak for you (nor could I, nor should I), who would?

But then, the foregoing is the first exception. So, you is context specific, an indication, not a rule... and most certainly, never prescriptive.

FOOD: I'm working my way through a Big Can of Baked Beans. I don't want to eat much more than a half cup per day. So, I froze four bags containing one-to-two servings each.

FOOD: Beef, Beans, & Rice. In the future I may add Corn, Peppers, and/or more. But this is pretty much how the can will go down.

Om: Unpack this moment into this moment.

One never need solve their life, only this moment.

What would a Stripped-Down Character Sheet look like?

Strip Downs: Age & Sex are banal. Presenting/Hidden. So, Intro (how character self-describes), Secret (an important unknown), Goal (point based, perhaps; and if so, we have a game).

Time for The Annual Murdering of The In-laws

One cannot live in slavery, only die.

Fireworks in the park. No pictures this year. No attempt.

The sound of explosions fill the air.

OM: I am a function. I return in this moment. I do what I am here to do.

When I am not broken, I am perfect and whole.

Loyalty for Loyalty? Is it too much to ask?

For my 56th Birthday, I am letting my past go.

I'd rather die at 57 than 56 or 58. It's a fairly strong preference. I don't know how I feel about 59.

I spend a lot of time sitting on the shelf.


"Sure, I hate myself.
But I hate you more.
So, you deserve this...

{I wanted that quotation mark to hang. I'm not entirely sure why anymore.}

As part of a Grand End of Life Experiment, I will close my eyes and pretend to be Blind.

How can Oracles (Mathematical or Mythical) be recognized? Can they be recognized?

Let us put it this way: Does not knowing The Answer change The Question?

More directly, an Oracle knows that which is not known. So, um, isn't that a contradiction? So, we have to revise downward. And at some point we have to decide what knowledge is known and knowable. And the more an Oracle shares, the less special it's knowledge seems.

I don't care about the outcome of this game.

If we're not playing any games, there won't be any reason to be angry.


What would it take to make it true?

I haven't been hungry for so long, I can no longer remember what hunger feels like.

Happy Birthday to Me!

Let's last at least a year.

59, 61, 67, 71, 73, 79, 83, 89, 97: Any one of those would be cool. {Note: They are all odd.}

I've lost my fear of death. A sojourn into Hell will do that.

Love, Honour, & Respect cannot be extracted, only given.

WALK: I started a dedicated note file, yesterday.

You {It, They, We} did not deserve my loyalty. You {It, They, We} shall no longer have it.

But then, have I ever really been loyal to anything or anyone, including myself?

MEDIA: Upstairs Downstairs - Season Five

Hard Candy! Score! The Mother Load!

The future is a lie; the past, a fiction.

FEEL: I don't want to call it Background Anger. But let's just say, it doesn't take much (often, just empty space) for the anger to bubble to the surface.

Imgur is taking up too much of my time. It's interfering with My Primary Writing Output.

RUNE: Translucent Fake-Ivory Six-Sided Die. I do not know it's origin. I know I carried the black pair around when I Hitchhiked. But I cannot remember if this completed the trio or not. Either way, it is the sort of item I'd be happy to be buried with... or to die while it was in my pocket. Almost everything else would have to go before I'd willingly get rid of this little trinket: a thought which brings to mind the incarcerated, who are allowed no such items.

Yesterday, I deleted all Social Media.
Imgur = Hours Daily
Tumblr < Ten Times
Reddit = Once
[Per This Sprint]

OM: Yes. Let's try that instead.

FOOD: Rice & Beans. I don't know that I enjoy the combination so much as feel good about eating so low on the food chain. It's cheap. Highly sustainable. And if I limit myself to half a cup of beans, any gas (or digestive upset) is minimal.

I don't waiver between Love & Hate; but rather, Anger & Indifference.

Nap-Nap Time!

Bad Movies (and most movies are Bad Movies) have desensitized me to Gun Play. I watch indifferently, as the outcome is predetermined, and always (yes, always) goes according to The Plot.

MEDIA: Road To Perdition

Running Out The Clock

Let's see what's next.

MEDIA: Virgin Space Flight. There were a few moments of slight (very slight) excitement when I could feel my heart rate vary slightly (a single asynchronous beat). But in truth, I care about this comment (which isn't all that much) more than the flight.

Flame War! Well, if folks got their acts together it could be a Flame War!

MEDIA: RTP: All's well that ends well.

MA-FAI: My Advanced - Friendly Artificial Intelligence

Yep, I just started working on The Slips.

Do I need a Walking Stick?

"Whisper Man has found you're not really reacting until you're overreacting."

The same can be said of acting.

When it comes to morality, I have to step through the code.

PIC: Hawk

CLEAN: Vacuum

SORT: Records. Going on a year ago, someone threw out a Banana Box containing Several Hundred 45's. It's time for The Dead Weight to move on. {I threw not a one out.}

EYES: The left one started twitching, yesterday. The clouded blur is normality. Yes, I am notching down.

Very few (if any) people rise to power for the sole purpose of giving said power away.

DEATH: Dear Death

Actually, it comes to me more as a story hook.

DEATH: The Tag!

The Post Penultimate Experience

Shika-Pow: Borderline Reservation Bar Strip-Joint Casino Brothel Did-I-Already-Say-Bar Disco Den-Of-Iniquity Drug-Whatever Card-House Card-Shark Loan-Shark Pawn-Shop Travel-Agency Gun-Dealer Used-Car-Dealership And-We-Sell-Fireworks. "Shika-Pow, Baby! Everything's Legal Here! Everything!"

We have a locale.

Welcome to the Shika-Pow Nation. Your Vehicle will be Searched. Walk-Ins Welcome! Walk-Outs Escorted! Evading Customs is part of Our Custom.

Book one of Our Chieftain Suites (Warrior {Bachelor Party ala Extreme}, Family {"Ain't nothing like playing with Heavy Munitions," howitzer, 50-CAL, and Areoplane Drop Bombs, along with all the hand munitions you can shake a stick at (along with the types made with sticks: so, an old Time hunt here, complete with bonding ceremony: blood-brothers, father-son, cross-generational, marriage, and so on), "to create a memory that will last a lifetime"}, Squaw (A sexually Inclusive Hedonistic Spa Experience) Styles Optional) and you'll be saying, "Shika-Pow!" yourself.

"Thanks, Shika-Pow!"

Treaty Of The Tribes: Local Trade Area Network Tribes declare a Compact Wide Hospitality, Truce, & Trust. All for one and one for all in regards to payments, services, and benefits: i.e. exploiting cooperative synergies while leaving No Man, Woman, or Child Behind.

A Matrix can always be counted as it is described. Thus, there are no Uncountable Infinities.

If A is composed of infinite many B's and each B is composed in turn of infinite many C's (continuing on through D's, E's, and F's as long as one likes; and then, some: {i.e. To Infinity and Beyond!}), all The C's (and thus, all The A's, B's, D's, E's, and F's, as well) can be enumerated by shifting indexes diagonally.

Um, er, like, maybe, taking all permutations and combinations sequentially through each index (first digit, first two digits, etc), adding an additional index (as required) on the jump. And from there, we'll likely have to backfill each new index with the appropriate sub-index enumerations and all previous indexes with any newly created permutations. But, yeah, just saying something doesn't mean the algorithm is solved.

Then again, is implementation even a requirement? Algorithmically, no counter ever reaches Infinity: i.e. Countable Infinity Isn't Countable!

This has been a short diversion into my personal doubts as to whether there is a meaningful difference between Countable and Un-Countable Infinity.

In final words, count the infinities as one would count any infinity, combining the results as easily as any sub-grouping of infinity was extracted in the past: infinite odds & evens from the integers being the simple example.

11:45AM: Thursday. Garbage Man. I thought you'd like to know. Actually, I'm thinking about tracking this class of data.

Monday is the garbage scrounging day, in case I never mentioned.

"These Chess Pieces," carved Wyp'Horn {from Wythe Horn: most definitely of the ghostly and haunted variety}, "have been part of The Family Estate for Centuries. Some say Day'Muen," {from Demon through Day Moon}, "I will tell you more than one," thus, the entire clan, "guides the hand, to secure advantage on the board, aching as it is, with a thirst towards... victory and the vanquishing of its foes. But it is inevitable that such an evil will eventually break free, leak out, and/or otherwise find some such escape. And at this point, I am rather convinced both Winner & Loser alike are controlled, by their minds, throughout, in pursuit of designs, as deviant as they are decadent." Pause. Deviant. Decadent. Let the offer sink in. "It is not an unpleasant experience I can assure you. But the results tend to be fatal to both body and mind."

"Would you like to play a game... or merely hold a piece in your hand? They have a feel... it is quite indescribable, actually. You will, of course, want to touch them for yourself."

RUNE: Two Black Dice added to Ivory. Origin Unknown. The three (though, why not four, I know not) likely represent the three best dice in the house in which I grew up. Now, I would not have stolen from The Family Monopoly Set. But I think I was given selection from a Trinket Box on occasion, a jewellery, memorabilia, small toy assortment. So, they could easily date back 50-100 Years, from now.

The Hurt Is Still Festering Inside: Extinguishing The Devil's Fire Within

One of my favorite locations in all the world is an easy chair... followed closely by a good couch.

You can't obey an immoral order. And most of them are immoral.

A common form of insanity known as Feelings of Familial Kinship.

SORT: I pulled an Unseamed Tropical Corral Fish Scene Hawaiian Print Shirt out of Deep Freeze and intend to wear it to rags as a summer Buttoned Kimono Shirt Wrap. Green turning to Yellow on Blue. Almost New. I will Hand Wash and Try Not to Stress The Buttons. It is well oversize.

Angry Men Beat Poetry Society

It shall be my Day Shirt.

Favorite Numbers: 3 (LeeZards), 13 (Childhood Textbook Number), 1018 (A Very Big Number, wouldn't you say), 27 (Lottery), 37 (My Hawaii Character), 18 (Age), 33 (3&3), 39 (3x13), 11 (Reasons), 4 (1+3), 6 (The Sixth, The Sick). The exact ordering (of preference) can get a little squirrelly. But there's some truth in the listed order.

I have no questions.
I have no answers.

"Jinx is a Natural Law of God," or so, I have been told.

CHESS: I play with My Darling almost non-stop... if at varying speeds, games taking weeks or more, at times.

CHESS: Let's play a little game I like to call Let's Kill The Queen! It's forward looking. But I have reasonably high hopes.

Must City Streets be Publicly Available? Can a Day Pass be required w/ Removal to a Port of Entry being The Penalty for Failure to Comply?

On A General Solution To The Homeless Problem

Night Passes: Camping In Designated Areas Only - At Additional Cost

The Competition for Honour has never been particularly fierce.

CLEAN: Coat Closet. I'm washing the lighter coats and layers one-by-one. Also, all the loose stuff is going into Lightweight White Bankers Boxes.

Like my thoughts, I mix my projects together.

An Unacknowledged Crime is a Sanctioned Crime as a Matter of Fact.

OM: I am ready to go. Well, right after I scratch this itch, write this note, and get a drink of water.

OM: The Spoony-Spoony Mantra Position

Mississippi Bridge
River Crossing

CHESS: Any move now could be the one before the next.

FOOD: Garbanzo Soup

CHESS: The Battle Was Real. If I call it correctly, the error has been made (i.e. there was little trickery on my part and/or this is not The Trap I was setting) and I will be up a Rook. My position has been slowly (sometimes rather very slowly) improving. But The Rook Capture is decisive, throwing My Sweetie's Offside Quadrant (the one without The King) in disarray.

It's sort of ironic: now that I believe in Eternal Life, I no longer want it.

It's a Dream. And I can decide to which aspects I wish to attend.

OM: Is Meditation significantly different from calmly waiting for death?

OM: Last night (in-between dreams, lying semi-awake), I found some degree of peace. I would not call it Zazen. But it was certainly akin to a slight eroding of the self. No talk. No worry. No emotion. No agenda. Very much like watching the blood flow, paint dry, and the moments pass.

If this is all there is, it doesn't matter. And if there is something more (something after), it really doesn't matter.

MEDIA: Gorillaz - Clint Eastwood. "Remember, it's all in your head."

MEDIA: Jordan Peterson - Jung. Man, if I could convert him into a Fanboy of my work, I'd be a happy man. He's quite the booster.

Worry Develops.
It Happens Every Time I Sit Down.

I tell you, Peterson is so sure he's right (and no one is that right), he's hard to take in large doses. But bit-by-bit he delivers the goods time and time again.

Bed Is To Nice
As We Are To Nice

We Are Nice
Nice Are We

We We
Nice Nice



Now Even Better
Without Lice

Making Tomorrow Better Today

Special Bob Saves The Day. Children's Book. Bob ain't so bright. But every clique will give him a pass. The power of Diplomatic Immunity.

My membership in {any group} comes with certain Benefits & Liabilities, which I hereby revoke.

How Broken Am I?
How Many Stars Shine In The Night?

I'm going to sleep; and I'm not going to wake-up for... much of anything.

Breath carries through. OK. Let's try for Clarity of Thought and Emotional Control, as well.

A List of Wants & Needs easily adaptable to Manual Labour

Man, I am such a Puritan. I'm constantly looking to Output Content. "Sure. Sure. Let's have fun. But it would be better if we got a deliverable."

Lies are what differentiate Friend from Foe.

No Function can Hang in Isolation. The Function F() hangs on this page.

Ergo: No Awareness can Exist in Isolation.

Though, that is little more than saying Existence!

Kevin Stillwater's Grandfather

RUNE: Swim Token from Buddy Board.

Garbage Picking! No drawers or that dresser would be a winner. Though, the wax dripped star (on another piece) has got me... um, let us say cautious, as saying 'leery' seems too confrontational.

Do what you will. I just don't want to do it with you anymore.

With every word, I want to talk even less.

Huh, maybe I should track when I get up early. But even as I say that, I know I won't.

Thoughts awaken.
Things to work out.

Songs to Sing.
Dances to Dance.

Alive with Sadness.
Time to move on.

Broken Hearted
Sadness Survives

Slumped In A Chair
Time Drifting By
Needing Nothing... No One

Something Something
Blah Blah Blah

I loved You For Many Years
I No Longer Do

Don't ask me why these (especially that last) qualify for Poetry Marking Italics when so many other tidbits do not...

Q: Why do we fall out of love?
A: Things desired, undelivered.

Things either matter or they do not. And even if they do, this does not.

Carl Jung: "Drive or Drift" - If you're not winning, you're losing.

MEDIA: Jung. I'm starting a note/project.

FOOD: Mole Soup - Mole Sauce, Black Bean Puree, and Water topped with Sour Cream. I could hit it with Red Pepper or Cheese, as well.

Garbage Pick Score: I got myself a Double-Layer Crystal-Voodoo End-Table!

Rain! Is it important? Well, I guess it is to me. I give it some mind.

Jung (loosely, always loosely, unless direct quotes, in which case the quality is limited to best convenient effort): Jesus Born in Stable (reference to instincts and animal ancestors implied) whereas being born in a temple (The House of The Lord) might have made a lot more sense. {I'm sure I intended this for The Jung File.}

It's a little game I like to call: Now, Where Did I Leave My Glasses?

Have I done Favorite Colors?

Favorite Colors: Orange (fruit), Black & Silver (cool, fantasy fighter), Green ("Green is for LeeZards!"). {This is a time ordered list. I question whether I have a meaningful Favorite Color at the moment.}

I'd rather sit with my eyes closed. It's so much more interesting.

Do what you will. And don't what you won't.

I am the part of the universe in which I am most interested.

Neurotic Tendencies
Everyday Things

Door Lock Check
But Did We Lock It When We Locked It?
Let's Check Again!

Appliance Sub-Routine
Unplug. Unplug.
Check Timer.

Let's Go To Bed
Gads. You Don't Want To Know.
Teeth. Shower. Locks. Doors.
I'm Not Saying I Brush Them Good
I'm Saying, I Brush Them. Brush Them. Gargle Rinse. Showering.
Doors Locked.
I'm Almost Home.

I'm really not so Neurotic, as so much is left undone, never to be done, never made the list in the first place. I guess, I'm saying, it's a short list, cut to the minimum, and never made long.

Sanctuary for Sanctuary. I felt the need to Sanctify my new Voodoo-Hoodoo End Table. A few drops of Whiskey in a (Highly Symbolic) Cup. Left to Evaporate three times. Toasting (wee small sips) as I go.

I do not fear Death in the least. Welcome it, actually. Now, I don't know how I will deal with any accompanying pain or momentary fear. But for the most, my bags are packed.

DREAM: A Tornado fell over a Waterfall, dissipating into bubbles. It was a short scene. It was but a momentary vision as seen through a window, as I travelled by rail.

DREAM: Sitting in a Tree (in a Restaurant) Sipping on Pea & Corn Soup out of a Tall Paper Coffee Cup.

"Wow! Yumm-o!" The sounds of joyful living fill the apartment. {alt: cooking/house}

FU! just about covers my side of the conversation. And I don't care about your side anymore.

CHESS: "I've got a Chess Move to make. I ain't got time for this BS."

CHESS: I'm up Two Points and Position. It's enough. I'm slamming pieces, expecting to Promote a Pawn, at the very least.

Somebody must have already said (most everything I've ever said, including), "The world is full of stupid people doing stupid things. Don't be one of them."

I'm happy to vote aspirationally: for an unlikely but hoped for better outcome. All the more since I am unlikely to live my life much better than average; but for the most, am happy to go with the flow: i.e. I'm happy to follow your lead. And that makes for a strange bit of deconstruction, as I'm admitting to being a follower.

LEGO: I built a Big Castle Foundation. I used most of my (so, maybe, 800 out of 1000) Dark Grey 2x4's. But it was too spread out to move and broke apart. So, it's in a few large pieces. Rather than reassembling, I'm thinking of making a Rock or Mountain (so, a blob of sorts) out of the Dark Grey as a base. And building Castle Bits on top of it.

RUNE: Wheel. Money Wheel. {This has got to be an Auto-Correct Typo. But I have no idea the correct word. Perhaps, 'Model". It's a Pinewood Derby Car Wheel.}

SORT: Lawn Table & Chairs. A Duratio (downpour w/ possibility of accompanying horizontal tornadoes) is on the way... or at least, is predicted. The Set has not been used in years and represents a liability if it goes flying off. So, into the dumpster they go. I'd probably be hard pressed to get much more than $20 for them at a garage sale. While new, we're talking way south of $250. But like I said, free and never used.

FOOD: Candied Ginger. The household is going Keto. But I'm not. And more importantly, I'm acting as The Human Garbage Disposal for all things carb related. I could make Ginger Cookies. But I'm just eating this stuff like the candy it is. Oh, right. I found these hidden away a few weeks ago. My eyes lit up when I spied them.

FEEL: Like Cheese Wiz!

Do as you will. Don't as you won't.

Similar. But Shorter & Sweeter!

WRITING: Sure, it's compulsive. But I question it's utility. Often, it feels like a liability... in more ways than one.

If all is writ in the stars, was there ever a need to set verse to rhyme?

I've got the rest of my life to die.

No Kill
No Steal
No Lie
No Worry
No Care
No Revenge

Be Polite
Be Courteous
Be Kind
Be Generous

Get a Go Bag Together!

DREAM: He goes into her, taking over pregnancy, becoming their daughter, his head shrinking, as the baby develops from his sperm. Wonderful plot/story twist.

MEDIA: Bo Burnham - Inside. I saw this a few days ago. But it is good enough to earn a shout out. Want to know what Art is? Maybe, start with this piece.

Little Girl,
Are you tripping?
Balls clearly rippin?
I'm dazing with you,
Lazing it through,
Laughing, Loving,
Kissing, Hugging,
My Darling,
Sweet Little You!

Duratio = Derecho

Thou Shall Not Contract Hard.

Houri (houri'e) or some close derivative, elicits thoughts of Harem Whores.

Do I wish to include My Memento Boxes in any Go Bag... or at least, keep a confirmed space (aka a reservation) open for them?

The things I've lost were (for the most) figments of my imagination.

I don't feel like playing with (almost all of) you anymore.

If every soul were just like me, what kind of world would my world be? Probably, this one. So, um, how does one change their soul, Mr God Sir?

Conspiracy Theory: Reduced Fertility Rates are a Eco-Political Policy Move that backfired: i.e. population was adjusted downward in expectation of Robotic Labor.

So, Cry and Move On.

A Little Sacrilege Before Six AM Never Hurt No One.

I Behaved Improperly In A Situation I Did Not Properly Understand: But there wouldn't have been so many dead bodies if I hadn't had so many willing accomplices.

If an observer is required for a waveform to collapse, does this not assure that for a universe to exist it must evolve sentience? Of course, if the Hypothesis were incorrect, how would we ever know.

I've stopped caring about most people, including myself.

One Endless Saturday Afternoon

Bay Sick Clothing Line

EYES: Allergies, I assume. Or Cataracts have kicked up a notch. Blurry. Heavy Cloudy Full Field Distortions. I prefer having my eyes closed. This is typical... for weeks-and-weeks, now.

If The Game of Life were to start right now, how sh-would I play this round?

At this point, I really can do anything... you know, at least for the next round or two.

And I am animal enough, the answer I come up with is Food.

I Am Zorg.
We Are Zorg!
Collective Freedom
In Unity!

Cyborg → 'Borg → Zorg → Z-Org
Cyborg → C-Borg → Z-Org

Z-Org, The Last Word In Cyber-Kynetic Collaborations In Unity!

I regret Foolish Behaviour.

Ain't it odd, how often it seems, fools find their match, so as to reveal their demented behaviour in worst light.

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