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2009-11-16 - 12:06 a.m.

don't get me started


if only there was more time, i sense the babbler is itching to scratch the bubbles of words bursting through the synapses between the ears people see (and they may never know what effervescent madness is going on behind the eyes between those ears, aye?), but time is only available when i push away desperately needed sleep (swhat?... who needs skleep?... sme?... just cuz i am zombieing my way through a very blurry world, blurry cuz fatigue makes focus challenging and i'm too tired to focus on focusing, i mean, just look at the extra s's earlier just now before and that's obvious proof of the sfatigue, after all)...

so anyway, as has been the case in the past, instead of taking care of me, i find time to write cuz i have the excuse of responding to a comments... a few words from a stranger, or possible stranger, and i am rambling on introducing and re-evaluating myself and everything once again cuz i like to introduce myself in real time as opposed to using canned intros written in the past cuz change is constant, ya know?...

so i share with you now, here, because i love you and miss you and don't make time for you and wish i had more time to make more time for you here, the following comment conversation and we can see just how much i've changed, if i've changed, as i wander through some thoughts bursting through my mind... my mind?... well, isn't that a change right there already, nyuk nyuk... yeah right, so anyway, this is the entry that started the brief, but babbling (at least from my side) conversation:

well, there's the original babbling that i've done ever since i could hold a crayon and scribble words on paper eventually called the written gardens that finally found some public viewing on my website (99.9% words cuz i don't take the time to learn the visual presentation stuff) and then the diaries, journals, and blogs and more blogs started proliferating on the web about twelve years ago and the progression from personal babbling to keep in touch (kit) to the thousands of pages on the first online journal through live journal and early diary land days (or nights, to be more accurate) to the blog spot times that bring us to the present (and so many others still active tangentially growing off the tree of madness that is the writing jones i enjoy so much), this has been a long strange trip and a long and winding road and much fun...

looking back (and around) i realize that i must find time to set up an ftp program and download all of my pages and update most entry pages as they are quite out of date (a few years for some)... but that will takes days, maybe weeks, and there is no such time in this life these days so everything i've ever posted on the net could just disappear one day and much of the babbling and rhymes are not saved anywhere... though there is always the wayback machine that has surprised me with blasts from the past at times, but anyway, this is an aside more to myself than to you even though it does provide you with some useless knowledge and therein ought to qualify as rambling, if not babbling, aye?...

and in the last week or few, after a pause during the summer of this year, it appears that i am feeling the babbler demanding time enough to overcome the demand for sleep (which is usually the case) and all-nighters are brewing and well, i guess the answer to the title question after all that introductory linkage is, hmmmmm, it's a possibility or even, hmmmmm, could be... cuz babbling is much like cartoons and as i believe the immortal words of one of the royal family of toons, bugs, said so well and we all know anything is possible in cartoons...

nyuk, nyuk, narf...



and then came the comments:

Anonymous said...

I hope you write all of this into a word processor and then cut&paste it to blog after saving to disc. You probably should print hard copies too. I have good hoarding instincts..

November 7, 2009 2:16 PM

candoor said...
there was a time when i was meticulous in recording and copying everything i wrote and went so far as to have database files with titles and categories and a filing system and such, but in the past decade or longer, that system has not been maintained and most of what is on the web, which would be many thousands of pages, is on the web... the time it requires to copy and paste into a file or download it all just is not there these days, so i temp fate and hope the words will be on the web when i find time to save them all in a more orderly, secure, format...

i used to have good hoarding instincts, but time constraints have repressed them well...

November 10, 2009 11:38 PM

Anonymous said...
candoor: you should take the time to save what you write. i have lost photos when websites went belly-up. put it all on cd. and if you have the time make hard copies. i think your writing is worth saving.

November 11, 2009 12:02 AM

candoor said...

wow, thank you... i wonder about your sanity, but then, all kidding aside, i know i am not the only one who finds worth in my writing... i just skip around so much i lose any audience (or, come to think of it, friends, to get profoundly ironically seriously analytical about it for a split second) i attract along the way...

i lost track of the organized chaos that was the books and files of writings i used to keep and catalog a decade or more ago (it's all toronto's fault) and kind of take the who cares attitude as in i write for the love of words, self-amusement, therapy, creative play, no reason at all, and with the hope that someone might smile or laugh or somehow otherwise benefit from reading and in a semi-self-depricating expression of depression and/or apathy due to some form of post traumatic stress or stupid poor-me thoughts and if anyone cares to save anything i write, yay, but i'll just leave it to the fates to decide if anything i write is put into a secure form for sharing in future times which is the long rather odd way of saying who cares, ironically...

thank you for caring, seriously :)

i hope to find the time to find the way to download everything i've uploaded, comments and all, everywhere, someday... soon would be good, but i'm hooked into this ridiculously time-sucking life these days cuz i have no backup at work and there's more work than can be done in an eight hour day every day and often on weekends too so when i take time off i just fall behind and have to skip over some work that really ought to be done but there's just not enough time and so...

tomorrow morning i am going to try to wake early to get to the brakes place (car) cuz i heard a sound that tells me to check the brakes and i'll bring my laptop to work while i wait and hopefully i will get to work before my 10am meeting cuz if i don't it usually makes more work for me catching up later...

on august 27th i went month-to-month in this apartment cuz i want to move out and so i pay an extra $150 or so each month and the time to find another place and move out has not happened which is a waste of money and there's one more example of how little time i have for anything...

heck, to wander off into another example of how little time i have for personal life stuff i just dumped a ton of food (ok, not a ton, but at least a hundred dollars worth) that i bought and put in the fridge cuz i was bound and determined to cook some healthy food in the house but i didn't motivate myself to make the time to put the energy into cutting and preparing and mixing and cooking (which means lots of cleaning too) in the last few weeks and the expiration date was well past and the veggies had fuzzy mold growing on them so out to the trash they went today...

still, i find time to write cuz it helps me take stock and re-evaluate myself and decisions and everything so i can see more clearly and make changes if i really want to and hopefully this conversation you've inspired me to have with myself and you is a step toward cleaning up and changing habits and fixing stuff and finding a place and stop wasting the month and so on and so forth and ultimately, stop singing i still haven't found what i'm looking for cuz i'll have attracted it to me by living the life that attracts it and oooo, isn't that all zen and new age or something, but i rest and write when stores/apartments are closed and the brain/body should be sleeping cuz writing keeps the brain company and happy and less lonely and stimulated and active and amused and hopefully still ready to share when someone comes along in real life to share and be my best friend and fall in love and live happilly ever after and it is worth it even if i am aging faster cuz the body is craving sleep and buggers fall out of my nose or an ear falls off...

ummmm, yeah, amusing myself with titilating truth and seriousness stretched into a run on sentence that might distract some but they are those who do not care enough so they don't matter and those who do care and matter will follow along even if it is not easy but that's what friends do, hang in when it is not easy so maybe every babbling personal confession is really a test of caring and friendship and interest and loyalty and so on, that ends in irreverent absurdity or at least, as monty python would say, something completely different...

i completely mostly almost believe that at least some of my babble is not only not worth saving, but not even worth reading cuz nobody is perfect, after all, but since anything is possible, the few who find me irresistibly delicious at every turn of the page may be right and just in case they are, i love them anyway...

i lost words back in the 90's when i was still almost trying to keep track and save and wrote rants to disney and lycos and anyone else involved in the removal of pages they said were for life (those words were in their member agreement before they removed their member agreement from the web)... those rants are still up on the web on my original website, come to think of it...

yeah, so i am setting myself up for a profoundly killer loss once again, like the family who left her father's ashes in an urn in a bag in plain sight on the seat of their car parked in an urban area as if nobody would break into a car and steal an expensive looking urn and bag left in plain sight on the seat, but that's another story and that does seem to be at least one of the main themes in the story of this life i somewhat loosely call mine cuz i'm trippy life, not the urn, but that and i am ever waiting for the one who will come along and save me somehow from obscurity and loneliness and self-destruction (though i've gone quite light, relatively living/speaking, on the self-destruction since around the time john lennon was shot or harry chapin rode off to wherever in hid detroit casket, which ironically was an obscure poem he wrote, but nobody's perfect no matter what the one might say) cuz i am (all together now) a hopelessly hopeful romantic and la la la...

i do try to remember to cut and paste any words into a word or text file before uploading when i forget that i should never type words directly into an open website text box cuz you never know when the connection could be broken or an errant keystroke could erase the words in any number of ways or the site could crash or freeeze or hang or otherwise not word which is kind of like leaving the urn in plain sight in the car, only these words are not my father's ashes, after all...

i am probably terrible for using the tragedy that family mostly brought on themselves to irreverently amuse myself in babbling associations and references and metaphors or similes or analogies or parables or some sort of writing technique but i mean no harm and if we can't laugh at everything then we create our own hell so i hope everyone figures that out one day and someday they'll all understand like dan fogelberg said...

is this a comment response?... probably be a blog entry over in my diary where i dump much of my babbling that came from unplanned comments or random ramblings or some such stuff cuz the diary people deserve to be remembered and some are even entertained by this sort of word dance and if my inspirations lately are coming mostly from pondering in comments then that's where the babbling flows and the secret to continuing it going with the flow...

used to be a time
when i fell into rhyme
as easily as stephen king
falls into his horror thing
wasn't something thought of hard
was more like flipping a card
letting words connect at will
free associate a thrill
if just to amuse myself
all these words fall on my shelf
lately though there isn't time
to fall or dance into rhyme
missing myself, sweet sumlime
somehow it feels like a crime


so anyway, that's the way it is these days, words come and go when i steal moments from sleep and daily chores and other life stuff, when a few words on the web or on tv or in a song or film or show or something someone said or some thought flashes through the mind inspires the flow like this or like that (sometimes like the cat in the hat cuz even when i try not to rhyme, it is just my way, it's no use, hey what can i say, i grew up on seuss) and i appreciate the appreciation you gave me cuz this is the simple stuff that's gonna save me...

almost scratching out the word...

November 15, 2009 11:06 PM






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