so what happens when I upload all the entries I've been piling up in the scribble files at once?... I am guessing that because the time it takes to catch up on my babblings increases there is a reduction in the already slim chances of more readers actually reading all I write to a probability even lower than it is already... so those of you who read back to catch the multiple entries are all the more appreciated... you must enjoy a challenge (and I am one for sure)...

and then I forget how much time I spend chatting and offering support over at blogmad and guess what, this entry say yet another day and will slip bacxk into the past even sooner than it would have had I uploaded it yesterday as I intended... but I left the last entry up longer than I intended cuz I'd like to see blogmad work and my rambling babbles probably distract you from the good stuff you can learn about blogmad if you read one of my slightly more concise entries (like that last one)...

making any sense to you?

well then please explain it to me then, wontcha

I mean what I am doing here... am I deflating me while attempting to inflate blogmad?... are you missing me?... am I defeating my purpose?... what is my purpose, anyway?...

is the sky still blue?...

still and all, in the end, the only question that really matters (not that no other question matters, because every bit of attention and caring you give me matters a lot more than I show - a lot more than I show as some of you know all too well... I should check gmail more often, huh?... and come to think of it, how did you know I had gmail?... ooo, a mystery, I love a mystery... I love solving it too, so this will remind me to query more tomorrow when I'm online again, providing I have time to get online... I never mentioned that I think of the Elton John song every time... I should mention that tomorrow as well... I definitely am finding it more challenging to find online time lately... Monday and Tuesday this week I spent much of the day {my sleep time} taking Precious to the doctor... she's feeling much better now, thanks... and yesterday, well, I don't even want to think about yesterday... I refer to the blogmad crash... I was still not myself last time I checked just before leaving for work... but they seem to be making progress restoring status so I am hoping I might find blogmad self back to crazy and about to go insane tomorrow... I am seriously wandering away from the point now, aren't I?... well, it's the ultimate bottom line if I had to choose only one priority to care about kind of what would you take on the desert island question, isn't it?) is...

was this a sentence?...

a paragraph?...

well, let's continue anyway...

we were up to something about what matters most, right?...

will that (what?... my challenging babbling semi-conscious usually unintentional but certainly enigmatic evasiveness in terms of maintaining cohesive contact?... my burying myself in so many words it would take a true friend many many days to sort me out?... my literary playfulness?... yeah, one or all of the above... well, will they?) hurt the chances of these words and the time I spend writing and uploading actually reaching the one...

and if you don't like my broken record that's ok, you're not her...

and that's ok too, cuz if everybody was her, I'd certainly be institutionalized... friends are vital to my stable insanity, after all... yours too?... well, if not, perhaps we are very different sorts, but I've got the feeling friends (true close friends) � or lack thereof � plays an essential role in all of our security stability and happiness... even though I am the most independently secure and, at least internally, most isolated person I've ever known (or maybe even heard of... I am quite far from home, after all {he says while gazing at the stars} and if I am ever even half understood and related to, I'll consider it a miracle and maybe even start believing in them again... though I wouldn't think I'd go as far as teaching a course, just a cloud or two, perhaps, cuz I will always be a storm)...

like I said, I love you all...

yes, even you who just got here and are wondering what in the world I might be talking about... no worries, people who read me every day have no idea what I am talking about sometimes... even I've got to pause occasionally and ask myself what I mean and sometimes I mock myself without answering and all I can do is sigh and giggle and wonder just how far from home I really am...

suddenly I am wondering if there is any pertinent information you absolutely must know about me that I left out of all those many 101 Things things linked on the left side of this page... I mean, for those few of you who are really wanting to know me, getting to know all about me, even... or maybe there are things on that list that would deserve (or even need) some further explanation... after all, this is a relatively semi-autobiographical mostly narcissistic quasi-philosophical record of who I am threaded amidst lines of free associative babble just to increase the attractiveness of the enigmatic factors of popular fame and cultural wonder...

you were expecting maybe stock prices or celebrity gossip?...

well this is supposed to be all about me, after all... you want sweet romance, read what I write in my dreams (candora)... you want philosophy, read a cereal box (or funda)... you want politics or religion, I pondered that a bit back in 2000 when that whole chad thing and if you really want to know what I thought at the moment, read webbot... and there's lots more sides, or facets if you consider me a diamond, to be reflected upon in my online written gardens (site map) if you've got a few days, or years, to read... but this here place, behind the candoor, is where for life in black and white, particularly my life, or to be more precise, this life I loosely call mine... it's about me, me me me, you know?...

well, I did take this test twice and it told me I belong in Paris or Amsterdam, which makes sense since I recently came out of the closet to confess to being a gay pothead like a stoned Mona Lisa... and The Da Vinci Code will be coming out in theatres soon, right?... who wants to go?... who's going to picket the film?... do you take butter on your popcorn?... we have ways of getting information... and suddenly I am seeing reruns of Hogan's Heroes in my mind and I have no idea why...

but I know nothing just the same...

so you are here because of me, right?... ok, I'm not that egocentric (I just play one on the web), I know that it is quite possible that you've arrived here (and stayed) because you are bored, maybe even lonely... I understand lonely all too well and wish you a way out of the deep hole it becomes if you get stuck feeling it for too long... it sucks, big time... makes me feel so small sometimes... like I am so insignificant and meaningless... and no amount of praise or appreciation will help (though being held while I cry like a baby has been known to be a great cathartic trust-building experience... unfortunately, everything seems to end in this life, at least in the one I loosely call mine)...

yeah, just so all you poetry haters don't run away, not that I call my rhyming poetry, I'll just link the rest... ok, I lied... it's not just so all you poetry haters don't run away... I'm not catering to haters, after all... I have a lot of different places in my mind and in my web world (as I always have in my written gardens since I first picked up a crayon) and this place, behind the candoor, is primarily for the babbler... the babbler does often think in rhyme (and feel in melody and seeks to actualize the harmony), but I like to pile rhymes up with rhymes and babbling prose with babbling prose... but if you poetry haters like the way I put rhymes elsewhere, well then, that's cool cuz maybe you'll hate a little less and that would be good for you...

meanwhile, back to me, I must remember that my experiences with loneliness (and I mean intimate romantic loneliness as opposed to total social isolation loneliness cuz I do live with and share with people who are as much family as friends and I do have wonderful online friends to talk to, but it's that feeling of nobody knows the whole me kind of loneliness I refer to here) skews my perspective more than I'd like it to sometimes and that leaves me feeling unappreciated or even ignored or neglected...

I'm bigger, I'm stronger, I can make it on my own... I don't need constant reassurance of my worth to others... I know this... but sometimes I need to remind myself and I am experiencing one of those times lately... death and loss reminds me of all the losses and the weight of staying in touch, of feeling it all, can make it hard to breath (you know, is there anyone out there?... if the song just played in your head too)...

there's the loss of Baby A to death and I am just starting to deal with the loss of Berry here at work... she's already got another job and that really is best for her, but she was very much my partner here and the only person I could count on to get the job done without me being around to train and re-train and remind... so my choice now is to do it all (please make sure I refuse that one) or to keep training different people every night until they find a permanent replacement (and hopefully they will and hopefully she will work out)...

meanwhile most nights they're giving me male staff (and this is an all female unit and while the girls appear comfortable with the few males who work over here regularly, it is foolish to staff a female trauma unit with all male staff)... the good news is that some of them picking up the work... the bad news is some are not interested in doing anything and even the ones who are tend to nod off in the hall way too much... only great luck and blind management allows them to keep their jobs...

and I'm still not quite sure just how news that the only person in this world I ever actually legally could call mom might have died... I must look up the number on the net and call (though talking to her husband never goes well and I've not spoken to either of them in about seven years... being adopted a couple of times by different people can place a strain on family relations and in the case of the family I was adopted into, it definitely did... way too much guilt tripping, conformity, insecurity, co-dependency, and disfunction to be described briefly, but suffice to say none of the children stay in touch and the other three are biologically his)...

and then there's the sister-in-law (through the adopted brother I never actually lived with) who called to tell me the uncertain news and then called again on my birthday... that's first time I got a call from anyone in either side of that family on my birthday in more than twenty years... birthdays were mostly ignored by most of the family through my childhood, though I might find a card with a five dollar bill in it some years... the lack of affection and meaningful caring or depth is probably what I remember most...

so a baby dies, my co-worker partner leaves, and I am reminded of the confusing concept (for the child inside me, at least) that family can be... and I think of all those I gave my heart and soul to... all those I trusted with everything... and I remember how euphoric it felt to do that... and I look around and realize none of them are anywhere to be found... and I feel that loss and the hurt...

and I want that euphoria of trust and love again... and I do not feel motivated to go out looking for it... too often burned, perhaps... lazy... maybe I'm throwing a silent pity-party and that's certainly not attractive (to me or anyone other than people who are depressed and I've never been much into the whole misery loves company experience)... I believe in releasing the pain, the hurt, the self-pity and low feelings � but not nurturing them and I've found too many people are too weak and become co-dependent on sharing the weaknesses we all experience inside... I don't understand why so many fall into that trap (not to pretend I am not susceptible to it) and why so many seem afraid to share the strengths, to believe in the self and not need some outside power to validate worth...

so recently I experience the hollow feeling of loneliness and hurt of loss more and it's been quite distracting, but more, I've not had time or space to dig it all out and release it as I have in the past... perhaps this is what makes a festering gobbutit (my mind finds the amusement even when my heart feels trampled on the floor... where's that from?... ah, Fiddler on the Roof... To Life... the concept, at least, not the words... and I am saved by the music {and a touch of irreverent comedy} once again)...

when you're following all life's lies...

that's two from the Moody Blues, excellent... there are certain songs, albums, CDs that facilitate positive growth, cathartic healing, conscious awareness, and actualization in me... Seventh Sojourn and Blue Jays are two from the Moodies (and others from them too, but those two would be in the top ten of the CDs that reach through me to wake me up inside... there needs to be enough emotional range and words I can personalize to tear me up and remind me how to feel and heal and rise from the ashes to fly again... so I can a seriously content deep and even profound smile (I suddenly picture an as I am doing right now as I say...

I've been through many fires...

and I've seen fire and I've seen rain (thank you James)... and I will always be a storm (thank you Stevie, and I still prefer Stevi)... did I ever mention that I once wrote long love letters to Stevi Nicks?... her correspondence person, Ginny, returned them all to me because they contained rhymes and she said in a formal stamp "we do not accept unsolicited material" or something like that... I wasn't trying to sell lyrics, I was writing love letters, dammit!...

ah, the innocent heart always inspires a sweet smile (and a chuckle or giggle or few), especially when the heart is the one beating in this chest I feel below this head that contains the brain that allows the mind I know as me to exist in this physical conscious place... I believe most of those letters are in storage, still in their sealed return-to-sender envelopes... as are others I sent to other people... envelopes full of words and rhymes and dreams and love...

someday I'd like to find time to open those envelopes and read those words... and explore all the other stuff in those boxes that have been in storage now for more than eleven years as of this month... an anniversary, suddenly remembered... this is a night for peeking through the cobwebs of my mind, aye?...

and you know we come back around to the same place we began, someone, the one to share the journey with... like a broken record skipping back to the same old refrain... all I ever needed was the one... when will the right one come along... true love... to share the past, to share the future, but most of all the share the moments as completely and openly and honestly as possible... to share unconditional love and trust... to share life and every fear and every dream and every secret... to share our letters from the heart... to share those letters we wrote (or should have written) to our selves...

sigh and all J

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)