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Barbara Waters: so candoor, what all this fuss about blogmad?

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(WISH I HAD MORE TIME
TO READ and EXPLORE)

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mediate
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(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?)

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PO BOX 780398
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send me some music
your favorite music
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let your message come through
and I will love you forever



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


2006-04-21 - 5:00 a.m.

just one more day


yes, so if you didnt catch yesterdays entry, I suppose it proved its opening point and if you dont know about whats happening over at blogmad (see update on sidebar if youre interested), then you probably just stopped by to read me as you might do a few times a month and I appreciate that more than I let you know personally I do try to thank you here

for all the enigmatic babbling and teasing I do, I am all about the communication my actual real telephone number is right here on every page as is my PO box address if you want to say hello or chat you can find me at the blogmad site in the shout box or the IRC chat I love the fact that Ive actually met, in the physical world, some of you wonderful people who found me online here or somewhere

while I enjoy helping people get what they want, what I want out of my time online is communication and friends positive and real communication with friends thats the self-interest point of my getting involved in blogmad and why I encourage you to join if you want more communication too (even if its not particularly me you want to talk to)

Ive done my share of whining about feeling lonely, its about time I did something about it (beyond just hoping someone nearby might find me here in this rather obscure and rambling mass of words) I use rhymes (call them what you like, crap, poetry, jibberish, genius words chosen are more about your individual perspective than a meaningful value judgment most of the time anyway)

and anyway...

based on the tone of some of the latest rhymes (and undertones of some of the babbling here), we can anticipate catharsis any day now... but then, that's been the status for almost a decade (and we could trace it back twice again further to the seventeen year old and the four year old, but we would need a whole new adventure site to go that far)... but anyway, that is a very long time to be waiting for Godot... if it takes forever I will wait for you... I've sung that to two people in this lifetime... and now I wonder if it was a case of mistaken identity, if maybe I was singing to the wrong person each time... the first person I sang it to did not actually ask me to wait and I am not actually sure if I ever sang it directly to her... the second time I sang it to her face to face almost every night for a year or more... I wonder if she still wants me to wait... I wonder if she ever really did...

in both cases the respective shes were not ready... the first, not ready due to inexperience... the second, not ready due to too much of the wrong kind of experience... I felt a whole lot more used (and was a whole lot more abused) the second time... I wonder if that made it more real... or more surreal...

I've been thinking more about opening one of the other blogs I have floating around the net... I created an account (and first 'holding' entry) at several different blog sites so that I could leave a comment for someone and that makes it much easier to leave comments for others when I come across someone using that particular blog site...

at first glance I might think that the primary reason for the thought (of opening another blog) is to reach a bigger audience (of course, with the ultimate goal being to find the one... I mean, you've heard my broken record many times already, right?... what can I say, when you find the perfect dream that always works for you, you can let it grow and develop, but stick with it)...

and yet, even more than that is sorting out myself... releasing myself into words that have at least enough overall organization to be understood by me most of the time and perhaps even creating some collections that relate to each other...

a loud voice (supposedly of reason) says I already have enough writing spaces because I don't use most of them but occasionally and some not in years... and yet, knowing they are there helps organize my mind and emotional releases... when I want to cry I go to one place, when I feel angry or frustrated with love I go another place, with life, another place... or when I feel the beauty and hope of love I go a still another place, and so on...

and then there is this place...

I know that my free form unrestricted babbling undermines reaching a large portion of the population who are trained to focus on and respond to sound bytes... and considering a more culturally attractive written space on the web comes from not so much wanting to pander to the vast television sound-byte ADD generations we've cultivated as a society over the last couple or few generations, it's just that it makes sense that the bigger the audience, the more chance she might hear about me... I could understand her not having time to read as much as I write as long as I remain just another stranger on the web...

so what if you came to this entry and it was composed of just the first two paragraphs above... and then all the rest of the entries were just as brief, hopefully just as or even more revealing and succinct and pondering... would that be at all interesting?... intriguing, even?...

of course it is not easy to say because the experience is skewed by the fact that you've read this far into this entry and do not therefore know just what the experience of reading just the first two paragraphs (or the hypothetical other entries ilked together by brevity and clarity and still hopefully some depth), not to mention a cleaner layout (did I mention I'd use a more formal blog layout?)...

but it's a thought that's been on my mind (yeah, just a thought that's been on my mind... thank you Harry)... and what of philosophy (I ask after writing the enclosed rhyme {enclosed in the word philosophy, in case you wondered where it was enclosed) and now recalling Kahlil Gibran for so many reasons, but above all others because I so often (especially when I get real) feel that I am sitting in the garden of a madhouse, just as often more contently than is comfortable for those in the madhouse on the other side of the wall, and I remain quite amused by the whole experience)...

so as much as I love you and your input and responses, most of what I do here I do for me... it's a release of the thoughts building up in my head, the feelings building up all over this body, and the energy of being that can come out in words... it's self-expression, exposure, confession, composure... it's individual therapy, nurtured creativity, exploratory fantasy, and pushing my veracity... sometimes I hope to become the words I am writing, sometimes I hope the words are becoming me, reflecting me accurately... sometimes it's serious creative play and sometimes it's all just nonsense, a way to pass the time...

and still I wonder how my individual entries would appear to you,,, and that comes from that part of me that is in the minority, but still thrives, especially here on the net, because it is that part of me that brings me here to upload these entries... that part of me that wants to share (I mean, besides ego who mostly wants pats on the head and praise and strokes and honors and accolades and award ceremonies and coronations and idolization and worship and, well, just the usual stuff any honest ego wants)... and especially that part of me able and willing to buy into the dream of love...

I used to share so much more than I do these days...

and while it (the sharing hunger and hunger to share) goes beyond words and sharing words have burned me quite profoundly (and in some ways permanently as some scars become like a branding), I still love sharing words, which makes the internet and blogging a comfortable home away from home (the first home being in my head) for me... and it's that love of sharing more than anything else that draws out questions about presentation and increasing readership and popularity because all ego aside, sharing is the most fun thing I can do in this life... I think that's what this physical life is all about, separating the cosmic ooze and energy of the eternal infinity, the zuniverse, into individual entities, unique consciousnesses that have the opportunity to interact as if we are not all part of the same stream of energy...

life... maybe not the final frontier, but certainly an adventure...

I just went to get some tea (cuz I didn't sleep much today and will nod off without caffeine) and I turned the radio on in the cafeteria and Because of You was playing and I listened to the words and realized I don't want to be someone who could actually sing that to someone and yet I could be... and somewhere deep inside, I am...

yet I ask myself if I am afraid enough to sabotage my chances of finding the love of my dreams and want to say no and just might have to avoid the mirror to get away with that answer... well fuck me with a six foot cactus cuz that seems to be how I see other human beings these days... people will hurt me if I let them get too close... and I don't want to give up an ear or anything else to prove how sensitive I am...

I do not want to reach that place where no hope was left inside on that starry starry night...

but I know exactly where it is and while I'm pretty confident in my ability to avoid it, I don't ever want to get over-confident because anything is possible and that would be a piss poor way of surprising myself... I know I can hear from the pits of despair, but I don't want to live there (I don't want to live there)... I know I can feel how the misery is real, but I don't want to give in there (I don't want to give in there)... I know I can go where nothing good can grow, but I don't want to stay there (I don't want to stay there)... I just want to be where my spirit can run free - and I still want to play there (I just want to play there)... it's a query to the world from the child inside... it's a message to the world from the child inside...

incorrigible, no doubt, I stand at the steepest precipice and laugh at the folly that brought me to it and the ridiculousness of deliberately leaping off in any way other than ethereally (and I do love my emotional roller coasters and ethereal flights of fancy... and when all is said and done, that's probably what keeps me alone more than anything else because the child's play seems to scare people away... I mean, it may seem like fun from afar, but up close and personal it is a heck of a ride to feel everything all the time)...

and Alice said only women bleed...

but I know it is so not about gender, but rather, about realness, sensitivity, awareness, and choices... are you experiencing your emotions and senses and experiences or just muddling through half in and half out of your life?... I've been sleepwalking through life now and then and it's a trip to be conscious of doing it while being semi-conscious of most everything else only to be startled now and then by a song like wake me up inside...

seems, on at least one level, like such a foolish waste of time and yet, there may be good reasons for shutting down and going through the motions of life... sometimes healing benefits, though I think the veggie time is often extended well beyond needed, but then, I can not really judge that for anyone but myself... and I do know that for me, a moment is too long a pause in this life most of the time... unless, of course, the moment is a healing pause or a shared pause or simply a pause to refresh...

la dee da...

this entry could have been so much deeper, so much more introspective and potentially revealing (like I have any secrets left?... we'll never know now, will we?... well, maybe not never)... the startling facts of life about now include the fact that there was so little sleep yesterday that we might as well say there was none as the blogmad team (of which I don't seem to be much of a part, actually... I'm such a natural outsider, but once again I wonder what it feels like to belong and be recognized as a useful {even important and respected} member of a community) pulled the site back together and manually recovered every member's data based mostly on the honor system (and a few obvious cheats got through, but they'll get theirs in the end) and when I finally got my surf status back I lost several hundred clicks, but proceeded to try to make them up instead of sleeping...

they gave a bonus 10% credits just for the inconvenience of the database crash... I'm not exactly sure why they didn't have a redundant daily (at the longest) back up on a protected server and hopefully they will now, but they handled the mess with amazing speed and generosity... the only suggestion for improvement I can offer (besides the redundant protected daily back up) is a better system of communication between admin and site moderators... and a few customer service PR spokespeople who are in the admin loop who are not running around like mad trying to fix things, but rather just sitting and responding to the membership...

the first thing to do in a crisis, I think, is grab as many of your team as possible and explain the game plan for fixing things and restore the status of the team (moderators and such) so the public can see things being fixed and the reassurances are substantiated by visible actions... I admit I was feeling quite left out of the loop as I was one of the few actively on the site responding to worried members with blind reassurances and no info or status... but then, I am going through a phase of feeling under-appreciated and under-utilized these days because, well, I am... nothing seems challenging anymore... and I've gotten so good at being the outsider...

and perhaps that is what this entry is about, how I have let myself become complacent with next to nothing, with next to no responsibility, with so little recognition that even I barely know I exist... that's what I get for practicing stealth for so long, for becoming so good at staying under the radar, for fading into the background silently watching the wheels go round and round... observing everything, involved in nothing... the ultimate spectator, the ultimate couch potato...

and yet there is still a child inside asking for one more day...

one more day of full throttle, of being on... it has been so long since I was on I've al but forgotten what it feels like or who I am when I am on... the good news is the child inside still dreams and hopes and somehow, I think, believes in me... and somehow self-sufficiently remains amused and stimulated enough to believe nothing is over, but it's just about to begin any day now... as if every day is the first day of my life and we've got infinite possibilities ahead of us...

so is it age and complacency or youth and naivety... pondering requires no question marks, for everything is a question and an answer and punctuation does nothing more than give the appearance of clarity when usually there is nothing but confusion... when you truly understand you know that format and presentation do not matter except as eye candy and amusement and art (and art does matter much, just not in this context) and content is the substance that creates who we truly are...

clothes only make the man in a world that respects clothes more than men...

so here is just one more day... one more entry in the life in black and white recorded for as long as it lasts here, behind the candoor... one more day for the child inside to dream... one more day for the babbler to ponder whatever falls between the ears... one more day to dream of sharing everything... one more day of the promise and the blessing that keeps the child inside alive... there is no greater power, no greater glory, no greater reason to be than true love...

unshared, it is the hope and the promise... shared it becomes the blessing... and may we all be so blessed... just one more day to nurture the child inside, to renew the hope and promise, to dream of the blessing and in the dream, to feel it... for true love can be unrequited, true love can be felt by one, the giver... and that is a blessing unto itself... to reach past the loneliness and longing to be there unconditionally for someone else, that is true love too... unequal and without the romance, but the true love of friendship is the next best think to the complete dream of sharing everything with the one... and may we all be so blessed...

sometimes I think maybe I can babble on forever never actually getting to a point of conclusion... but then, life concludes in death and while I may be mostly dead, I am not dead yet... so the written life I live in these words reflects that as these streams of consciousness are one long thought that began in someone's womb and will conclude, most likely in mid-run-on-sentence, when this body ceases to function as a conscious living organism...

and until then I dream, I hope, and I keep the promise I made to myself and to true love... if it takes forever I will wait for you... dear true love... the child inside believes in your above all else... there is where my worship goes... my faith is unshakeable because I am such a stubborn child... incorrigible...

so we survive one more starry starry night, just one more day...

and with or without permission the child inside plays... but being a polite kid, I ask anyway (in case you missed the link earlier)... let me be a kid just one more day help me be a kid just one more day all you need to do is come out and play... let's be kids, and friends, just one more day... and dream of true love as we play... live the hope and faith and promise one more day... share the blessing... just one more day...

so what did you do today?...






. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
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the moment

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