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ORLANDO?

WHERE IT BEGAN


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CONVERSATION WITH GOD

MEANING OF LIFE
FORWARD THIS ENTRY
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(SEE WHAT THE POPE SAYS)

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ABOUT ZOOPLA

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FAT MAN WALKING
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last---past---next---now



SITES I SEE A LOT
IxQuick Search
Google Search
itools references
movie database

Giga-Quotes

Harry Chapin Lyrics
SSA




OLD AND NEW READS
(WISH I HAD MORE TIME
TO READ and EXPLORE)

mother jones
utne reader
common dreams
the progressive
mediate
the other side
orion
harper's
rolling stone
reel classics


fallout shelter
the memory hole
song meanings
truth out
wil wheaton
bugmenot
global news matrix
break for news
are you generic?
neil gaiman
h2g2
daily kos
the truth laid bear
reason
capitol hill blue
boing boing
nobody here




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SEEING MORE OFTEN

3Hive
metafilter
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REFERENCE LIBRARIES

questia
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AMUSEMENTS

Diaryland Times
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sinfest
ill will press
the guide
purple
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maximum awesome
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something awful
glossy news
eric conveys emotion
odd todd
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CULTURE

the superficial
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this is true
urban legends
news of the weird
church of the fsm
the onion
god checker
faqs
fark
iGod
post secret
webby awards
meetup
the white house
ragged trousered philosopher
the smoking gun
the defective yeti
landover baptist
evil bible


COMMERCIAL CRAP (AND PRON)

(Note: pron is porn worth a look for amusement much more than passion, so if you see a (p) next to a link, be aware naked people may appear if you click it, m'ok?)

beautiful agony (p)
(a turn on or a laugh?)
real doll (p)
(the ultimate self-indulgence)

(or it could just be a typo)




PROMPTS
(IF YOU KNOW ONE LET ME KNOW)


Unconscious Mutterings
Friday Feast
Wednesday Whatevers
Sunday Brunch
Monday Madness
Thursday Threesom
Saturday Questions




(make it real)

PO BOX 780398
Orlando, FL 32878

send me some music
your favorite music
old or new
blissful or blue
let your message come through
and I will love you forever



last---past---next---now
�2006 Candor Communications


2006-12-08 - 4:02 a.m.

from Sinatra to Metallica


and finishing up the how many myspace entries can we repeat here behind the candoor before it gets ridiculous (or is it already too late?) marathon going on here in life in black and white behind the candoor, I give you one more (though another comment filled entry or few is bound to pop up containing some myspace comments among others as the mood slips into my psyche, so this is far from a final farewell to this semi-cheating idea of recycling myspace entries when I am not writing here daily)...

maybe it's all ego delusion, but I feel like I'm doing well with words over at myspace... I especially like some of the rhymes popping out over there, but then, there are definitely personal biases skewing my self-judgment and as the amazing disappearing z0tl has said, self-judgment stinks, or something like that...

not to say this is an example of a better than usual entry (cuz I really think there are better ones over there, like Ode to Successful Friends, for one, but this was in the babble files so you get to see it here now... calm down, it can get more exciting than this, really it can...

from Frank Sinatra to Metallica

and the Beach Boys song is part of the beginning of this entry, as is Elton John's your song as I think of how sweet it would be if I could (and I would) buy a big house where we all could live because I really to imagine (thank you John) all the people sharing all the world and yet I know, as Billy Joel lamented, truth is honesty is such a lonely word...

but that doesn't stop me from believing and dreaming and doing my best to make my dreams come true (no matter what sort of strange looks I might get on the street... or, to put it in other terms, no matter how many myspace friends I might miss or lose)...

and so I pondered what kind of fool am I in RealTime and returned to believing in love and making the feelings I've felt real again (even if only in my mind, but then, if you read the words and feel it in you, then it's real for you too)... and that's where the heart of me has been for the last 30 hours 24 hours or so...

spilling guts... cleaning out the cobwebs... regurgitating the cud I've been chewing on for as long as I can remember... gross metaphor (or is than an analogy?... simile?... no, metaphor, I think... ah, but how the education can be used to distract from the sensitivity of feeling in this life, aye?... hope you didn't miss that giggle), perhaps, but it's still tasty cud to me...

it's a family tradition at this time of year...

even when I am a family of one...



the rest of the world has their Christmas and Thanksgiving and New Years and fifth of November and Kwanzaa and Chanukah and (fill in the celebration or memorial holiday of your choice)... I've got the first of December (yay) and as Frank said, they can't take that away from me...

I don't live in the past... I just take a few moments (or days, when the muses provide the inspiration and I have the time) to remember (the kind of September, or December, in my case) how it feels to fall in love, to be in love, and to make love all that matters in this life... it may be foolish fantasy to some, but for me, it is exercise... it is going to the gym and staying in shape... as important as that is for the body (at least for the body that wants to experience the optimal sensitivity and energy it can experience in this physical life), it is (in my mind, which may be warped in your view) just as important to keep the heart - the ethereal spiritual emotional psyche in shape...

especially during the alone times for it is during the alone times that fear, self-doubt, and pretense can move in to lower self-esteem and replace hope and the magic that love can be with the illusion that of who cares and it doesn't matter...

but as James Hetfield said, nothing else matters...

but fear not, my rhyme loving friends, for this introspective babble that is so cherished by the six people who actually want to know me on the inside will give way to the silly and sentimental and prophetic rhymes that could be songs that the seven groupies come to cheer (ah, the rock star fantasies are not too obscured by the metaphors and analogies, are they?)... I jest, naturally... I don't actually have that many...

and as I wonder just how many of my giggles and laughs you might actually hear as I lovingly mock myself (and, from time to time, everything else) perhaps we also wonder how many lyrical references you might have gotten without any clues, and in the end (or at least a moment's pause, not to take anything away from what is one of the simplest and most profound and greatest songs ever created by not linking it), I leave you with and so it goes...



yeah, misty, huh?... and just to remind you that I have still been babbling too much over in the RealTime blog (and hopefully will get more brief there as I return to babbling here), this was today's (yes, the date above matches the actual time date in RealTime that this was written) entry over there...

interested or not

I am still out here, even when I am not finding what I am looking for, even when I see things I don't want to see, even when I am not feeling as positive as I want to be... cuz when I walk away, I won't be here anymore... and, at least for me, being not here is not as much fun as being here...

life, not blogging, is what that thought is about...

today is Harry Chapin's birthday...

and tomorrow at this moment it will be exactly twenty-six years that I was driving home from work and I took a detour because the man on the radio said John Lennon was shot... and I still listen to the radio...

but I seldom watch the news...

today, sixty-five years ago was a day that will live in infamy... sixty-five is also the accepted retirement age in our culture... maybe it is time to retire the memories of glory and, instead, be more honest about our feelings of loss and pain and suffering... there is nothing glorious about a battlefield covered in human blood, most from bodies not yet alive twenty six years... nothing to feel good about... nothing to be proud of...

no more than the three year old feels some odd joy in having broken his favorite toy, giving a momentary rush of some sense of control and power, only to cry afterward... but the three year old does not understand the mixed emotions of his destructive ways...

do we understand ours?...

meanwhile, in the RealTime... my office is starting to smell like fish... I got another fish award at work today from another of the directors... feels good...

I napped when I got home... feels good...

I feel lonely... and that feels good too because I know it is the best sign that I am not giving up on sharing life... lonely is a feeling like disappointment, a feeling dependant upon wanting, an unfulfilled desire and an unsatisfied expectation... for me, wanting is better than apathy... but deeper still, it is a feeling based on hope... hope that sharing will happen again... and faith in the belief that I am worth knowing, trusting, and sharing a life with...

even if I end some sentences with a preposition or what not from time to time...

good night John, wherever you are, even if you are just a memory in my mind...

good night Harry, wherever you are, even if you are just a feeling in my heart...

and good night all of you, interested or not, even if you are not here...

and make love, not war.








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the moment

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AND WHATDYA MISS?
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