The Diary Project


To Win, One Must Lose

Odin has one eye in this world and one eye in the next, and my left is failing rapidly, in this close-up self portrait, I am bundled up against the last of the winter, the chill of early spring, and three months of beard cover my face, maybe more, I do not know when I cut it last, maybe in October, but perhaps on the first of the year, per the lyrics below, I see them sung in a 1-2, 1-2-3-4 beat, drawn out, then condensed, the timing of each line about the same

Odin's Calling
I Can Hear His Call

Odin's Calling
Prepare For The Fall

Odin's Calling
He Never Shall Wait

Odin's Calling
It Must Be My Fate

WALK: The snow did not melt by Monday. Well, it did here. But not there. Not enough to call it melted. A few more days.

You got a month to go, boy.

It's Right & Wrong, Good & Evil. Pick a side or don't. But there is no middle ground. There is no neutrality. There is only Good & Evil. And if one is not on the side of Good, then they are aiding Evil.

Watching Evil Prevail is not a neutral position. It is Watching Evil Prevail. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Pontius Pilate was neutral, too. I do not respect the position.

I do not respect your position.
I do not respect you.
I do not care about your position.
I do not care about you.

-- Years was a good run. This is BS. I'm done.

Pontius Pilate washed his hands. Clearly, it is The Christian Thing to do.

WOUND: There is a line, a linear divot. But almost completely healed... except where it popped open those few times. {And now (at the end of the month), I notice it not at all.}

MEDIA: Canned Heat - On The Road Again. A month later, it resonates again.

MEDIA: Harold & Maude. I watched this a few days ago. But like the above {song by Canned Heat}, there is a certain autobiographical quality to it. Both were from my youth. Were they warnings? Probably. I'm just going to assume it was all there, if only I could see it.

10AM: Civil Defense Sirens. It reminds me of The Time Machine movie, every time.

If I can give up Chocolate, I can give up -----. Problem is I haven't given up Chocolate.

If not Mild Schizophrenia, something is going on. The world seems to be talking to me more-and-more. And by this, I mean hidden messages, synchronicity, and that sort of thing. The symbolism is hard to miss, mainly because it seems more direct, more like communication than simply mere happenstance.

FOOD: Pumpkin Soup. But what really makes it shine are The Goose Fat Drippings. Sometimes, I make perfection.

Adult Onset Schizophrenia

If I am on The Holy Path, what is my Next Step?

If there is a smallest intellect, what is the greatest? How far can a mind evolve? If there is a next step, how can we recognize it? How can one possibly even categorize it? Is there a theoretical maximum?

I have become a believer in Natural Law.

{Natural Law and/or Moral Law: The Inevitability of Justice. An assertion that Sin is Self-Correcting.}

WALK: There may be snow on the ground, but it's Spring.

The Holy Path: Let's just say it again. I haven't a clue what The Next Step might be... at least, not the one I am willing to take.

It doesn't take much money to die. It doesn't take much of anything.

WALK: The Boys are back in town. Basketball. Football.

Mescal exhales. I Inhale. I smell hay. Magic.

Some people/things are not worth crying about.

I am dealing with -----.

In the grand scheme, I wonder if I must lose to win.

I am sure I am the cause... as are you. Pain. Suffering. Happiness. Joy. That's simply how The Universe works.

Beyond Right & Wrong, it's practical {i.e. if one ignores Right & Wrong, it's a practical decision}. But then, what do we call an action taken in defiance of Right & Wrong?

A Past that will not be honored need not be remembered.

It doesn't take many words to say nothing.

May you see the truth of your prayers.

{In the world of Natural Law, this is a bit of a curse. For, most prayers contain more inherent sin than one may at first comprehend... my mastery, leading to your slavery, and all that.}

True Religious Belief provides lasting solace against All Evil. For the most, when things don't matter, things don't matter.

-----'s Pocketbook Guide (Character): Is guide/host/spirit/narrator of a magical scroll/map/parchment/book with knowledge/information/misinformation/opinions/guesses/fallacies about basically anything presented from a first-person hedonistic/feel-good/moralistic bent. Every era/subject/subculture/moment-in-history has its party. {And it is from this point of hedonistic pleasure that the narrator divulges information. For instance, entries on The Titanic will show him whooping it up in the bar oblivious to all concerns; and later, floating at sea in the Posh Rescue Boat wherein Drugs, Sex, & A Jazz Quartet are sure to rule the day.}

Un-Silent Spring

It is what it is. What difference does it make what it is?

Those Betrayed often behave erratically, as they try to make sense of the shifting sands beneath their feet.

A Symphony Of Sounds In My Stomach

EYES: I have this theory that my eyes will do better if I eat less sugar.

Put it in an isolated environment and see what it does.

Unimportant & Far Away

Betrayal by definition is a pulling away of the rug under one's feet. As such, it should come as no surprise when the betrayed loses their balance, grasps at illusions, and in other ways acts erratically.

EYES: Grease in the air may be a culprit.

All The Stories Were Real

What Once Mattered No Longer Does

Good For You!

Universal Outcome Independence

WALK: It's a beautiful Spring Day. Hidden in shadows there is some snow left. But not really. I was about a week off on that. Windy. Long Sleeves. But no coat.

In The Ultra-Clear Past Midnight
Before The Mists Of Dawn
With Eyes In Back...

Not that one!

Being The Fool
Death's My Domain
Under The Moon
Chasing The Rain

Running Alone
My Kingdom In Flight
I've Never Seen Day
So I Live For The Night

This old poem of mine seemed eerily meaningful this morning. I am a Sad Man.

"What do I want to be when I grow up?"
I don't know that it came true.

You don't need to be sad. It's not doing you any good.

My church (at the time) did not skip a beat, 'confirming' me even though (once again, at the time) I was a Self-Proclaimed Atheist. They gave me a Bible in celebration. They probably should have given me the Bible earlier, you know, to help me on the journey. Years later, I do not have the slightest idea whatever became of that Bible. Nor do I think I read it the once. {I moved shortly thereafter (or several years thereafter). And I do not believe this item was packed or taken along.}

DREAM: It was last night, but worth mentioning. A Toxic Waste Dump... or that's what I'm calling it. Stacks & Stacks. Surrounded by a sand encasement that would turn into concrete. I figure it's a Memory Dump. Toxic Waste.

The Grand Audience: Those on the Other Side... of the Veil of Death.

Thursday is The Best Day Of The Week.

I can sense the dread in checking email. I'm in a good mood. And I don't want any communications to change that.

I can't see how it makes much of a difference in this, the next, or any other life.

At sunset, there's a cool, wet, dampness to the air.

My Night Mind is a different creature. It's way more laid-back. Please note, laid-off is the alternative construction.

WALK: The Ducks are back in town! 10+! {This is count; rather than, a statement of quality or praise... excited, as I may be.}

FEEL: I'm feeling pretty giddy, smiling from ear to ear. I may be delusional. But I feel like I've won a Psychic Victory... the kind that counts.

It would appear my mind and me are friends again. I'm glad we got that over with.

I have been keeping The Spam Emails that My Website has generated (and/or received) for the last few years in the hopes of eliciting {i.e. being inspired to do} a project. But I should just deleted them {which I did}.

No Birds at The Park but plenty at The Pond. I wonder why? Ah, just listening for the wrong sounds. There's a chirp. Sort of makes me wonder how I missed them before? More cars. More people. They do get drowned out.

Now! This Is Zen!

Putting The Wiggly Worm
In The Wiggly Womb

A very real part of me doesn't want the response.

DREAM: Hey! This is something! I had a conversation! Jungle became Hawaii became Beach. There were (very occasionally) special Purple-Violet Stones in the dark wet sand like Gems or Sea Shells. I picked one up, noticed a Local showing interest, so tossed him the stone. Later, I had a short conversation with him. But I feel I pushed him to far in asking, he didn't know the answers, or our meanings were different. It was off. But it was a conversation I initiated to some effect. Beyond the Beach lay a Volcano and the Shore. I've gone surfing there before. It has an unbelievable break.

Gallant Got It Right!

Gallant & Goofus was a comic strip of sorts, published in Highlights Magazine, as found in Children's Waiting Rooms across the US of A. Gallant was the Good Guy. Whereas, Goofus was always doing it wrong. So, Right Way - Wrong Way.

SORT: Shirt Drawer. It's been on my List of Things To Do, since The New Year. I threw away nary a thing. Seasonal (Winter), Future Goods (Not Yet In Rotation), and Old Functional (Why Hasn't This Worn Out Yet) have been stowed in Pillow Cases, with the rest packed neatly. Since I tend to wear the same clothes over-and-over again to the point of exhaustion (to the point of rags, almost, certainly to the point of fatal wear), keeping on top of my wash (so, we really are talking about the same few items worn over and over), I hardly ever need a new shirt. The Drying Rack is The Ready To Wear.

{I am wearing Boxer Shorts for Pajamas, these days. This morning, I decided I'd worn the current pair enough. And so, now, it is soaking in sudsy water, to be hung to dry later. Since I am OK wearing the same thing day-after-day, I find it easy to keep-up on the laundry. The only item currently waiting to be washed is a single shirt. But then, if I were to count up The Clothes in Use (which by definition are not clean), I have a dozen or more items to list: Inside Shorts, Inside Pants (wearing), Outside Pants Rough, Outside Pants Nice, Inside Underwear (wearing), Outside Underwear, Socks (outside, only), Pillow T-Shirt (to protect pillow cases from wet hair and to cover eyes, becomes Inside T-Shirt after two days), Inside T-Shirt (currently slung over chair), Outside T-Shirt, Inside Button Shirt, and Outside Long Sleeve Shirt. This does not include Shoes, Coats, Hats, or Outerwear. And is an off the top of my head list. That Inside Button Shirt (as an example) has not been laundered in three months, but hasn't been worn for more than a few dozen hours in all that time. It will get washed soon enough (as will all of my outerwear) as Summer approaches.}

WALK: Ducks Quacking At Night!

I think I have found a workable Faith for myself: Innate Natural Law coupled with A Hope For Eternity... some sort of Meaningful Merging, which is likely grabbing at straws. It's an assumption of Meaning & Justice... that a Self-Enforcing Morality Exists.

Never care the most; certainly, not about a lost cause.

SORT: Kitchenware. All that Hand Cutting Glass must go. Let's see how much buy-in I get from those interested others... you know who I am talking about, My Sweetie.

WALK: It's snowing. A walk is a must.

I swear too much... way too F'ing much.

The Type Structure of the inquiry is The Maybe Monad... or more accurately, it is A Maybe Monad of A Maybe Monad in that there May Be A Type Structure and it May Have A Type; but one can never really know due to the Ephemeral Nature of Knowledge and what it Means To Know; and in point of fact, what the heck is a Maybe Monad in the first place.

{Per the above, "Yes, you have annoyed me. And as such, this is my incomprehensible reply."}

The stated position (as I understand it) garners neither my respect nor admiration... nor do I see the benefit in pursuing the inquiry any further.

I no longer expect Truth.

I no longer care if we share a truth. I no longer care what you believe.

If it is important, you will have to make it so.

Brett, Out!

My entire life I have closed my eyes and turned my back on God. (What a crappy name.) And now that I have decided I want a relationship, I do not know where to begin. Eh, it's not a well constructed sentence, but the sentiment is there.

Having sleep-walked through life, it would be nice to awaken (at least once) prior to death.

Nobles Oblique

SORT: Tin Toy Spaceship. It's from The Toy Box. I'm trading out End Tables as the old is busted. The new is much smaller. But then, things change. Anyhow, I'm getting rid of The Dead Weight. So, lots of things are changing.

SORT: Metal Ring. I used this as a Key Ring for years. But without a car, there is not much point. Hey! Did you know that? I haven't had a car in years.

SORT: Water Drop Shaped Hand Exerciser. It's gotten the most play as a marker for whose turn it is at chess.

SORT: Two Small Monster Figures. I have a third that I am keeping. It will be upgraded to Chess Marker. It is currently my Memory Marker of Choice. "Now, why did I put that there?" {It was not upgraded to Chess Marker. I am using my Cat Coffee Mug for that. It is still my Memory Marker of Choice, however.}

SORT; Christmas Cards. But I kept the envelopes.

{SORT: means clean, sort, organize, or throw out. SORT: Item implies I got rid of the Item.}

FOOD: Premium Caramels. Very tasty. Superb. And the Salt is flavorful. But I do not like biting down on the salt crystals.

I mentioned (I believe) how I fairly regularly awaken in the middle of the night. It's just weird how different my thought patterns at that time can be.

EYES: Every once in awhile I get a full-field (or mostly full-field) flash of dull white light. I notice it most at night, while lying in bed. As a child, I did have a difficult time discerning real electric storm flashes {i.e. lightning} from imagined ones. "Did you see that?" Often, not.

Morality needs be, also, an Aesthetic Concern.

Leading to the obvious conclusion that Morality need be a Concern of Absolutely Everything. The argument for which comes from A Detailed Analysis of Long Term Costs: i.e. The Case For Morality.

Slavery is Evil; thus by definition, Slavery is Inefficient... in each part, as well as the whole.

{The above follows logically from Moral Law. If Evil Will Out, if a Self-Correcting Morality is an inherent part of The Universe, then it needs be the most efficient long-term strategy. For in the long-run, all other strategies will fail.}

An Intolerable Indifference

The Heresy Of Truth

I Tell Myself Beautiful Stories

In many ways, this is some of the best content I've ever put out.

It looks like a race to the bottom, to me. So, I'm bowing-out of the competition.

I have grown to love The Hyphenated-Word... also, The Capitalized Compound Noun, which seems to be a Contra-Indication of Gratuitous Hyphenation.

MEDIA: Nightcrawler: My word, but that was good. Think of it as a Vampire Success Story.

If only they had listened, Mankind may have benefited from His Words. {I am talking about my words, here. Call it Hopeful Arrogance.}

SORT: Seeds & Nuts. Principally, I transfer from Store Packing (Resealable Plastic Bags) to Glass Jars for ease of use and clarity of inventory. This is a more-or-less weekly activity. Though, the focus of the activity (Cans, Grains, Freezer, Refrigerator) has been known to rotate in a preference towards that which is running low. I really no longer know if I have a CLEAN: Tag, which might suit this just as well.

TAX: Shall I make note of the inequities in the system? No? Fine. Rather, I shall simply note that filling out forms (along with double-checking said forms) has become a major component of my work day.

Work Day: 0-3 Hours (hardly ever more, often on the short side) M-T-W F-Sa almost exclusively in the morning.

Work → Walk → Relax: My days are highly repetitive. And I am finding it harder and harder to get anything out the door.

E-Bay is closing my account due to lack of use. It would be nice if more services took this approach. I haven't touched the vast majority of the accounts held in my name in over a year. And for most of those, I will never bother to touch them, again... except, perhaps, to formally close them.

I am thinking about True Blood (the television series) and am recasting myself {i.e. a fictional alter-ego} as The Warden of The North.

A Mind Free Of Mayhem

I can't weep in front of other people... or at least, I find it extremely difficult. Right there is reason enough to avoid most others.

EYES: Ah, those wonderful days, when I can actually see floaters.

A Singing Mind Is A Distracted Mind.

My biggest Sin is a desire to be better: to be rich and others poor... or smarter, and so on.

When their feathers are ruffled the wrong way, people tend to squawk. I feel like I've said this before. I've certainly been rolling the words around in my head for a week or two.

The above goes right along with... when folks lose their footing, they often tend to flail about.

While the two are very often bracketed by a hearty "Good for you," muttered under my breath.

I talk to myself a lot.

Life Is Beginning to Look Like a Bad B-Movie with A Plot So Preposterous It's Hard To Take Seriously

Mind-Bending Buddhist Nihilistic Tripe

The Role of Chitchat in Forging Social Bonds

A wonderful Spring Day.
The Grass Is Green.
The Flowers, expectant.

EYES: Sound Replaces Sight... or Augments.

The Reward Foregone
The Punishment Preordained

I appreciated the works of Jerry Pournelle (if that is, indeed, his real name) as a teenager. And the above seems like a great title for some Futuristic Military Adventure.

Is Awareness (in The Universe) Single, Serial, Parallel, or Distributed?

The Tax Deadline has been pushed back. Yippie! I will check this a few more times to insure I don't misunderstand things. Call it Paranoia.

DREAM: Why am I so often up against a Time Limit? And why do problems always seem to become ever more complicated?

Some things are more important than money. And if not, isn't that a sad state of affairs?

I'm sure I've caused you pain. I apologize for that.

When I close my eyes and embrace my mind, there is no one else there.

DREAM: I found myself in a Horror Show Fun House Train Car with no exit. I ran from end-to-end looking for the door that was supposed to be there and which had just been there. Netted Trampolines appeared at the ends. I jumped back and forth, as they slowly separated. Overshooting, I fell off the edge. Falling through blackness. Falling. Staying calm. This would have terrified me as a child, falling through the darkness. Reality appears at a distance, a long way away, down the thin line of a Turning Top, almost like a Spaceship. My mind is the point, the end, the tip of a receding world. It is like Zazen. Is it? I have no idea. Not Earth Shattering. But pretty darn cool. And My Mind is calm, empty, squeezed clean. Time to rinse and repeat.

I think the two preceding notes are in the right order.

If Money was really worth anything, I would have spent more of it by now.

There is desire. But it will die. It is a double-edged sword.

The Universe either loves me again or is laughing at me. Either way it's a good sign. And in fact, the two are probably indistinguishable.

DREAM: Per above, while falling through the black, I experienced glitches, like frames being stitched together with slight static at the seams. Not quite Matrix like. But of the ilk. The emotional impact is fading... fast. But there was something there... a peace.

WALK: A Little Drizzle. A Train in the distance... or so I assume. This is about as far away as I've picked-up the sound of a train. 1:36PM. 2021-03-23. It's going on quite awhile. So, a freight train... or construction equipment. But freight train seems most likely. "And welcome to Guess That Sound! with your host..." A Garbage Truck and all other distant sounds recede.

So far, I have been presented with three different names. I am going to deem the correspondence not worth the effort {of guessing who's who}.

He was on Morphine when he died. Also, the word Quadriplegic was used. I'm going to have to get me some Classy Bracelets before long.

Aggressive Care

Patient Declined: "I don't want to get up. I will let you know when." Apparently, he never did.

DREAM: That Darkness Dream the other day was so great. But even now, just a few days later, it's hard to recall the emotion. Actually, hard is not the correct term. What I have is a memory of a Memory. Also, The Matrix like effect was more like a jpeg glitch effect... slight color distortions in thin bands, playing on an otherwise (~99%) black background. Well, perhaps it was more like ~97.5%. But who am I kidding? I haven't the slightest idea as to the exact value.

I want My Mind to be My Locus of Control, The Center of My Universe. I want to close my eyes and find Nirvana.

If ----- happens, I will do -----. It turns out almost every one of these plans was erroneous from conception, erroneous to conceive.

{The end point conclusion of all this is Sin of Thought: Thought Crimes, as it were. Thou Shall Not Kill includes the planning, desire, threat, or possibility. If one would, that is good enough. A Sin has been committed. And give it enough lifetimes and the erroneousness of this pattern will be made clear.

What benefits Man if he gains The world, but loses The Kingdom of God?

Of course, my faith is incomplete. It's hard to push aside the realities of nature and the obvious inconsistencies to be found therein.}

It is to those who hurt us the most we owe the most, for they facilitate the desire for change. It doesn't mean we ever want to meet them again, though.

If there is an Afterlife, none of this matters. And if there is not, it really doesn't matter.

If I can identify the problem, that's probably not the problem.

An advantage (one of many, I would presume) of writing for A-AI (henceforth, just AI, as the construction seems tedious, at the moment) is that I can write both as lazy (banal, sloppy, poor), tedious (boring, dull, insignificant), and complicated (confusing, unrefined, nested and interlaced) as I desire. It's both more and less pleasing and packs a powerful intellectual hit... one would hope. {And when I say This is some of my best writing, it is to sentences like this that I am referring. The sentence is solid and full. It is a Thesis complete with Supporting Arguments. It covers the field.}

I am rediscovering the sentence as the basic writing structure: Elegant Simplicity.

Perhaps, one of the reasons I like Night Mind better (and I do, in this way) than Day Mind (My Old Friend) is due to my lack (and/or reduction) of bodily awareness at that time. My thoughts are cleaner, more abstract, direct.

"Ya ain't won until you've rubbed the opposition's face in it."

Sometimes, the book is the outline... and vice-a-versa.

A Circle One Meter in diameter is roughly 10,000x the size of a Large Cell (100 microns or micrometers) and 1,000,000x that of a Small Bacteria (1µm).

Mitochondria are +/- 0.5-1µm x 0.5-10µm

Virus are +/- 20-500um x 20-1000um.

µm = Millionth of a Meter
um = Billionth of a Meter

I need these numbers for compiling accurate lectures in my head. I don't want to say the wrong thing.

Mitovirus = Mitochondria Virus

Yeah, well. I needed to know.

Water-Picking {my teeth} twice a week might just be the sustainable frequency for me. Dental Floss, too?

It has to stand in the absence of God. It's got to be The Play even for A Godless Heathen. It just works... all the way around. This is A Moral Principle one can Stand On. It's a Valid Axiom in any Moral Logic.

Spinning The Berries (A Retro Hippy Rural Punk Band) will be opening at The Febrile Forum (An Open Floor Bar, Standing Room Only, $25/Cover, Sliding Scale, see Doliathe at The Door) for Charcuterie Board (A Hard Acid Rockabilly Fusion Ensemble w/ a Contempt-orary Vibe and Smooth Finish) on Saturday Night (so-so incredibly early, it's really the morning... scratch that, best to arrive Friday Evening... Afternoon, Morning... seriously, once you're in, you're never going to want to leave, so bring plenty of cash, ATM on the premises). Derelicts, Downers, & Deadbeats Will Be Shown The Door! Be Ready To Dance... whether you want to or not; the room will sway and has a mind of its own.

Ono Pono

The F-U Cafe

Ready For Action
The Day Just Begun
The Party Is Starting
We're Going To Have Fun

If My Dreams are any indication, I have a remarkable ability to adapt.

FOOD: Carpaccio. If tenderized properly, this could give Sashimi a run for its money.

FOOD: Tahini Is Bitter!

QWAL-IT (Master Mic - Mix Master): My DJ Handle. Mixing It Up.

{QWAL-IT → Quality → Quality}

FOOD: Fish Fry. Though, I write this based on the heavenly smell and a symphony of sound emanating from the crackling skin... assuming there's skin.

MEDIA: Back - Season One. It's delightful (so far) and worthy of deconstruction.

{I especially like The Hedonist Brother. It is a pity he got watered down. In the opening segments his dismissive arrogance shines. But he quickly becomes more-and-more human. I don't really need humanity in my caricatures. Still, this show was marvellous. It's hard to argue with belly laughter.}

Piercings like a Coral Reef
Earrings like a School of Fish

I am merely Sentient Water.

Sentient Bubbles of Water

WALK: Driving to a Forest Preserve. It's the first such trip in over a year. I don't know if I will bother to report on the backside.

If this {life, existence} is An Endless Loop, the most important thing is to get out.

Chastity, Poverty, & Humility are Proof of Faith. I doubt there is any other way to tell.

Not caring what happened, it doesn't matter what happened. There are implications, of course. But working those out is left as an exercise for the reader.

Let us guess 777.

FOOD: Avocado Rosette

The only way to win is to totally lose: Complete Surrender!

Time To Decouple

762, so pretty close.

If at first you don't succeed, find something or someone to blame.

FOOD: Oatmeal (straight-up, no inclusions). It's what's for breakfast, these days.

What does Morality demand of this moment?

WALK: The Smell of Pine.

A Lack Of Faith In The Veracity Of Words

For in it's Conception lay Deception

My mind is obsessing over the tense of the ending verb in the preceding sentence... a statement itself wherein there is a missing reference to The The... or simply The, A, An, or similar.

Today is one of Those Days.

The Meaning (or should it be The Meaning) of the nomenclature has already been (certainly, after the edits, it has already been) expanded to include a reference to a formal implication of hidden meaning(s), which you (Dear Reader, *wink*-*wink*) could not possibly understand.

I run a Moral System for your safety and mine.

Betrayal (A Case History): The Long-Term Ramifications

That which was is no more but has made way for that which will become.

MEDIA: Star Trek - Season One. I'm doing a write-up. Please see Rants, Data Dump, or Books. {But at this remove, I could not tell you which.}

FOOD: Ham.

DREAM: Last night (long ago), I had a Stress Dream about getting ready and such. And this morning, I felt (please see newly introduced nomenclature, above) such stress when getting ready.

I wouldn't be here if I didn't get here. And I like to think I made a few key decisions along the way. {In other words, if not all my fault, I rightly share in the blame.}

Zero Day (a stuntman): Doing It First! The Double-Naught Zero (00-0). I'll say he wears Kevlar Reinforced Body Armour styled as a Tuxedo.

I'm not very good at cheering others on. The greater group's win doesn't seem to be my own.

EYES: Those full screen flashes.

It hardly ever matters who blinked first... or who threw the first punch.

Full Moon!

I've started two projects recently: Cocoa Crazy & Star Trek. But I am desirous of starting at least one more. {I pretty much spend my [Off Days] thinking... about new projects and old.}

{The [Bracket Syntax] as introduced by Kevin Stillwater and the i/Italic Syntax/ introduced above serve much the same function... with a /Double-Slash Syntax/ just now showing its usefulness when italics (as in this section) are already at play. You can bet I will be inconsistent. But it's nice to have an additional nomenclature at the ready.}

It can be difficult to look at pain full-on. I tend to flinch and look away. There are obvious survival benefits to this. If one cannot think about something, they can hardly do it... or at least, plan to do it. But there have to be (doesn't there) meaningful disadvantages, as well. Namely, the existence of cognitive blind spots.

I have as many (if not more) posts now as compared to when I was doing this {The Journal Project} weekly and dividing each day into a separate section. But I like this format better.

4210 Words, my text editor tells me. At 250 Words/Page that's quite the number.

Woman is Man's way of reproducing himself.

FEEL: Many Things. Most of them contradictory. I'm all over the map.

Is Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, See No Evil an effective Evil Mitigation Strategy? Or rather, does it tend to give Evil succor and a place to hide? Against this, I would juxtapose the dangers of Focusing On Evil.

Breathe In. Evil Is.
Breathe Out. Does It Matter?

Then, I have come that much farther.

WALK: Shadow of a Bird. No! Of a Kite!

{I took a few dozen pictures of the shadow of this kite on the grass. But a blurry shadow on grass does not an impressive picture make. Still, I enjoyed the process of trying to capture the moving shadow in the frame as it danced across the field, a two-dimensional mirror of the kite dancing in the sky, zigging this way and that.}

EYES: I have a massive headache. I'm blaming crappy visual acuity.

In spite of, not because of.

I'm laid out in the bed. I'm thinking caulking fumes may play a role. It's hours later (after the EYE post). My afternoon has been one of pain.

I had long hair (or longish, certainly an out of control shag) long before I cared about having long hair.

Pride & Envy are my big Sins. {Justice, Mercy, & Compassion being in direct opposition.}

I find it extremely difficult to hide from the truth, while lying awake at night.

Throughout all of High School (and Middle School), I do not recall a Gym Teacher ever (like absolutely ever) giving me individual advice (or feedback) on how to improve my game or form.

IMMORAL - Hypocritical - Uneven Application
UNRELIABLE - Turn About Is Fair Play

Hell (or Heaven) is a Djinni trapped in a Bottle. It is exactly what one makes of it. And it is the fate of each and every one of us... now, and forever.

WALK: First Flowers! Bluebells!

FEEL: I feel more and more like Odin everyday. Also, I'm quite chipper.

I care far more about my personal Salvation than anybody else's Damnation.

I'm in Picture Taking Mode.

I'm tired. My limbs ache. I feel like I'm evaporating.

Tempered, like hardened steel... you know, if I didn't feel so weak and tired.

DREAM: Considering how often I Dream (or used to Dream) about WWII, it's sort of surprising I never Dream about a Nuclear War.

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My ability to adapt (to discomfort) is very pain specific. I've grown used to crappy eyesight. And that hand cut went pretty well. But emotional pain seems to get the best of me. And that headache just laid me out.

© copyright 2021 Brett Paufler