not here (but then, weekend commenters are as welcome here as anywhere cuz commenters are literary lovers and smile-givers and the best people in the cyber universe), but especially at the RealTime� blog cuz my precious three point four commenters over there seem to be weekday commenters (which is wonderful cuz weekday commenters can be a rare breed as the majority of the world is tied up with that thing they call work and the rat race between Monday and Friday and few of us rats can log into blogs and read and comment {no less make video entries} while at work, so weekday commenters are rare treasures and I feel blessed to have so many... and for you literary precision junkies and technical tweakers, numbers are relative to words in such cases, ok?)...

we seem to be quite scattered in thought today...

I mean, a whole three entries can be uploaded over there in RealTime� over a weekend with nary a whisper in the commentary so if you are weekend commenters (or know of any, and I so appreciate you for being here and that is why I am here because your comments inspire the uploading of the babble) and have the time to obsess over me (or know of any... I know, such an ego, aye?), then guide yourselves or them over to the RealTime� blog and get a taste of RealTime� (which was defined somewhere at some time, possibly even in RealTime�, however is not going to start a while time-space continuum ramble just here just now at this moment because I have other ramblings to do and begging for comments is so pass� and besides, it's not actually what I came here to do cuz the begging for comments mood is nowhere to be found at this moment cuz the party is still going on in my head and we're all having way too much fun, but since the title is already up there I figured I'd mention it and hope and as it was bound to leap out of the subconsciousness that chose the title sooner or later again and again cuz that is what often happens in the babble... in case you never noticed, now you know)...

so many secrets, so little time...

you did notice that there was an entry here just yesterday, right?... I mean, if I suddenly returned to uploaded a daily babble here what with you now in the habit of not expecting to come here daily to read the new daily ramble that has not been appearing for months now, it might take you days before you noticed that I went back to daily rambling and dozens (or at least several) daily rambles might pass into posterity without you even being here (or there, as posterity is, by it's very nature, seldom here)... what a tragic loss of creative moments, of communication, of potential interaction (not to mention commentary... see, it did slip in as unintentionally planned) that could be...

giggles are allowed...

and it held secrets... the previous entry, I mean... but then, now that I think of it (how many times can I juxtapose tense and still make sense?... the answer my friends, must be worth at least two pence (feed the birds and find more words) to some babble-addict among us), the previous entry is probably not going to be the previous entry at all (unless I get interrupted and do not continue the loosely intended intention of uploaded a bunch of backlogged entries here today which would mean the previous entry is the last of the backlogged entries at whichever backlogged entry I randomly stopped when I was interrupted or distracted by something else), so for the sack of accuracy in advertising, the previous entry in question referred to in this entry shall be considered this entry, henceforth to be known as the previous entry when the term previous entry is used in this entry, though exclusively this clarification is valid only for this entry, that is, the entry you are currently reading if you are currently reading the words that are contained in the sentence conveying this thought about the previous entry to you at this moment...

huh?...

yes, well now that we've cleared that up (and cleverly distracted from the initial thought in the previous paragraph, which is how they stay secrets, after all, cuz they wouldn't be secrets if everybody knew, now would they?... of course my pointing this out here does take a bit of the genius away from the whole distraction and all, which does seem to irritate at least one of you now and then, but heck, it's my madness and I'll create it any way I choose even if there's not a bit of conscious planning or any sort of over-sight committee keeping it consistent or creatively logical... the sugar hangover, after all, is now in effect and all the little mice in my head and scurrying about to their respective hidden typewriters to continue the party while giving the appearance of complying with the curfew... though if Natalie Portman were on the street after curfew, I'd be out there in an instant to save her or serve her in any manner she'd choose because she's risen into the upper echelon of libido fantasy in the last few years even though the actual posted libido fantasy list may be slightly out of date (it is just so hard to get good clerical help these days as even the mice would rather be creating than putting any effort into publishing, but that's beside the point, whatever the point might have been)...

yes, well, we are quite scattered in thought today...

barely being awake doesn't help focus... nor does the (insert the opposite of barely here) hang over from the party I threw for myself all day and night yesterday (including skipping sleep for more than 48 hours except for momentary naps between paragraphs that lasted somewhere between less than measurable time and no more than a few minutes, the naps, I mean, the paragraphs tend to take a bit longer, in time, I mean... yes, the brain is wonderfully foggy and scattered all about the mental spaces (and myspaces, even) and if you had the time, you might actually learn more than the usual fodder, but heck if I can remember all the pathways, no less link them all here for an easily mapped out journey through the cyber jungles and desserts of my imaginary literary world...

which makes the few who do (and the one who goes all the way) all the more precious and few and special if you follow the reasoning that paints the bulls eye around where the arrow lands...

I love you for reading...

I reached for water just now (in RealTime�, no less) and never got the cap to the bottle off because as I was moving the bottle I realized that the typing stopped and the mice were all a twitter because their typewriters get all jammed up when the typing stops while they are carefully tucked away in their hiding spaces in a collective key-tapping frenzy, so I wisely put the bottle down and returned my fingers to the keyboard before the twitter turned into am all out curfew breaking revolt (you say you want a revolution, well, I know) which would only fail due to the relatively constant anti-literary creativity distractions in this current living space, but we love you, yes we love you, and lala lala lala lala lala...

speaking of following the old man wherever he wants to go (and other old movies), the moment to get my roommates to watch White Christmas has still not come together and it might not, as these are now things happen around here... speaking of roommates, Rasputin wandered out here to park on the couch and fall asleep a little while into this entry and I wonder if he noticed that the TV and lights were turned off... and this is mentioned because Precious just woke (hey, it's only 1pm) and walked out of her room to check the pizza boxes (and find them empty as Rasputin eats in his sleep and I did not sleep, but kept eating anyway) and then to open the fridge to ponder food and then to stand and look at me as if food would appear and then, after the mice kept my fingers moving frantically on the keys during all this, she retreated back to her bedroom to whatever wondrous activity she has planned for the first moments of her day...

see what I mean?...

Rasputin is bound to wake hungry at any moment if the energy continues to rise in the space, which probably means I should hop into the shower now because there will be no hot water if they both hop into the shower before me but then (and now, even), the whole flow of aimless babbling has come to a pause, hasn't it?... yes, as we explore the mental spaces, we find most of the mice fast asleep at their typewriters (they become so bored so quickly with real life, which is why there's a RealTime� blog for such trivialities, not to mention the fact that the crash like narcoleptics after being fed too much pizza and the Code Red wears off)...

alas, dear babble-lovers (and beloved commenters), I bid you a fond farewell already, here in the early moments of what could have been (and may still be) a fine multiple entry babbling session (there was a time when such sessions went on for days and filled many hundreds of pages in a single sitting {with minor adjustments to pillows for comfort, of course} and blessed I would be all the more to have such time or to be found out here in cyberspace by those who remember those good old days) for however long it takes me to find moments like these when life offline comes up to grab my attention...

I want to be back soon, so perhaps I shall... and until I do, I send you love and hugs and many imaginary links (you know, the myspace blog and the RealTime� blog and the new one that was just born) with the hope that you have time to find all the other rambling and rhyming I did over the past few days if you enjoy reading such stuff of dreams...

so until the next time we come together in words, onward to life J

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