LIFE

IN
BLACK
AND
WHITE



last---past---next---now
( FEATURED OTHERS 'n STUFF )

MEG AND DIA!

ORLANDO?

WHERE IT BEGAN


ARE THEY SERIOUS?
(how far are we from censorship?)

ONE. . . WHY
(find your social conscience)

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

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o O ( ALTERNATIVE MEDICINE ) O o

CONVERSATION WITH GOD

MEANING OF LIFE
FORWARD THIS ENTRY
INTELLIGENT DESIGN

(SEE WHAT THE POPE SAYS)

o O ( AND COMING SOON! ) O o

ABOUT ZOOPLA

o O ( AND CURRENT EVENTS ) O o


blogadvance blogazoo
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o O ( SOCIAL CONCERNS ) O o

HELP THE RED CROSS
MESSAGES FROM MISSISSIPPI
BLOG FOR RELIEF
NEW ORLEANS JOURNAL

(MIRROR OF N.O. JOURNAL)
(INCLUDING LIVE CAM AND PHOTOS)

HELP AND BE HELPED
HURRICANE HOUSING
LINKS TO HELP
IMAGES FOR HISTORY
New Orleans News
Buloxi News
THE FAILURE


FREE SPEECH
(tell them what you think)

The White House
(202) 456-1111

Senate and Congress
(202) 224-3121

YOU'VE GOT THE RIGHTS
USE THEM





FAT MAN WALKING
BLOGATHON!
INDEX BEGIN
FACE FUN!



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




SITES I AM CONSIDERING
SEEING MORE OFTEN

3Hive
metafilter
comics
digg





REFERENCE LIBRARIES

questia
wikipedia
gutenberg
internet public library

itools references
movie database
Giga-Quotes
rare-lyrics
all musicals




AMUSEMENTS

Diaryland Times
home star runner
hell
hell too
sinfest
ill will press
the guide
purple
despair
maximum awesome
86 the onions
straight dope
something awful
glossy news
eric conveys emotion
odd todd
cracked



CULTURE

the superficial
darwin awards
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


2004-12-02 - 8:17 a.m.

and back to real time again


today (Fuwsday), is another day... I would say that I am awake, however awake is a relative term... I am here babbling, semi-conscious of my awareness of the fingers tapping on the keys and producing words on the screen that somehow tie together into semi-coherent sentences (that run on and on) and the collaborative efforts of all the words might convey some sort of message that may or may not be part of the plan, but I am also remotely aware that I am sleeping so deep that I am not even sleepwriting (that is, I am not letting my subconscious dreams and heartbeats find any sort of voice... except the whining found here, that is) which means, for those of us in the know, that I am so far away from my self (core, anima, child, etc) that there is serious probability that these words are not reflective) no less representative) of the truth within the identity of the writer...

the writer?...

heck, we have not even heard from the babbler in years...

meanwhile, thousands of messages are bouncing at a couple of my oldest addresses every day (which means those who knew me when who only have those oldest addresses because they were the only addresses I had when we were in contact in that time before I had a web world) are lost at sea (I know you are but what am I) because I am lost in space (I know I am but where are you?) and not even cleverness can survive forever without some contact with the known...

perhaps what is required is for me to finish the final book in The Dark Tower series (but there's never enough time for me to give myself the attention I require, so there's not enough time to give attention to other writers or activities or anything else... still, I'd drop everything {and I mean everything} for the one one who knows what I mean... sigh)...

do you really feel like anything belongs to you?...

did you ever?... I did... and that feeling of mine, albeit may have all been illusion, was a treasure of pleasure... and it was momentary in my mind, for I have always accepted the reality that everything can change and does every moment and in the next moment I might not have what I treasure and could even be dead, but that doesn't change anything about the pleasure of the moment... of having... of enjoying... of feeling the music or meal or book or experience actually belongs to me... of feeling the moment is mine...

I have not felt that as often as I used to of late... my sensory awareness has been reduced to base reality, so I possess nothing but what touches my senses and even my imagination is no longer mine from this perspective... this is why I focus on food so much, for the taste is the momentary experience I can call mine... who can follow this line of reasoning or understand that example, I wonder...

and I come to the realization that this body is not mine these days... not in my consciousness... no wonder I do not care for it as I used to, as I could... no wonder I sit around wallowing in disassociative apathy and faux despair allowing myself to be distracted by the superficiality of TV shows and the interests and concerns of others virtually all the time instead of taking just a little of this time I watch TV or listen to roommies for myself to do exactly what i want to do... like find the writer again...

like find me again...

you (now here) may remember what this feels like... and you and you and you(now here (who reached from depths into depths as Anais Nin and others have)... and you... and you (though you hide is so well in cleverness), at least I thought you did... and you (so inspiring, I look forward to your published works and you know I hung on to your light for it is so beautiful)... fact is, I haven't been back to check on most of you in many months... and there are many others (from top to bottom) who are not listed in profiles for nothing, you who have touched me through words when I might have actually been close enough to the surface to know I was touched... and your phone calls are not forgotten, even if they are not to come again...

and while I admit my interests (especially recently) are very much influenced by romantic dreams and sensual hungers, often my eyes stumble across something (or someone, for that matter) that appeals to me for reasons that have nothing to do with the physical world, but rather those who touch my creative spaces and ethereal mind (and many on my lists linked above do that too)... and then I get distracted by getting caught up in exploring and reading and forget I was writing an entry...

but mostly I am dreaming of sharing time and space with imaginary lovers and friends (just one, the right one, please, and I shall be satisfied) and keeping myself well numbed and distracted so i don't feel the hungers and potentially depressive pits of despair and self-doubt and loathing of the sameness of nothingness that permeates every moment of my personal (selfish) sensory perception (oh, but if you only understood it all)... I wonder if there's anything worth salvaging from the world inside of me, if I ever get the chance to share as I know sharing to be again, or if life from now on will be nothing but a series of doing unto others (which at least brings me pleasure so I can still find geniune smiles and wonderful reasons for living) and ignoring my personal emotional and spiritual starvation...

wow, real time doesn't seem nearly as much fun as catch-up time, huh?...






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




see me - - - feel me - - - touch me - - - heal me


< last one < < < < BURP! > > > >next one >




.

.

.

.

.

the moment

we interrupt these seemingly mindless dots for a word from (or at least about our sponsor (hmmm, sponsor?... what's the opposite of sponsor?)... anyway, now, as ado-less as possible, the word for you or andrew)...

you know that box to the right on the dland entry page called recent public entries?... what do the asterisks mean?... and the bold?...

. . .

connections

.

.

.

.

AND WHATDYA MISS?
Laughing Lament
stranger brews
once upon a diaryland
babbling through computer concerns
stunningly missing
older still


random chance

who me?

leave a note?
(read archived notes)

send me mail?

you want to know me?
soundtrack
101 Things
The Sequel
The Trilogy
202 Things
200 Things
202 More Things
202 Things Again
testing123
have time, love words?
sleepwriting
(where the heart dreams)

and now, in RealTime�

DO ME!
(Johari Style)


DO ME WRONG!
(but do me right)


SOAP!

(EPISODE ONE)
(the dark side of candoor)


loving linkers
other loves

A Diaryland Survey
other surveys
small world
your profile matters
(search for you & find me)


tell others
read others
applause?
favor?
gift?

get your own!

saturn rings and other places
googlisms
browsing
where've ya been?
the searchers

favorites

911
HEY AMERICA!
LOOK AT YOUR CHILD
STOP THE ABUSE

(GET THE CODE)

THOUGHTS ON GOD

( temporary attractions )


BACK TO #1 @ GOOGLE!

WAS #1 @ MSN!
(for a while, now on page 3 5)




(EXPERIMENTAL PLAYTHINGS)
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