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2004-07-23 - 3:37 a.m. and you're the only one who knows... who that might be is, perhaps, the great unknown, the universal entity often called god (or God) or possibly some character from an new old story that has yet to be written (or at least yet to be published) by some writer I've never met (or read) or even a memory lost somewhere within my own mind (someone like you?)... and perhaps we've yet to remember meeting, or we've forgotten, deliberately or not, if we ever did (there is one theory of reality that says everything that can possibly happen has already happened and what we call life is merely the momentary arrangement of events as we experience and perceive (and create) them today, but that might or may not be the truth and who knows, after all, you?)... are you following any of this?... or that, for that matter?... anyway, speaking of stuff (as I might have been in the previous entry if you read through all the emotional mush), once upon a time I shared life with someone who loved to watch MacGyver, so I learned to love the perception of cleverness and mischeif that the character portrayed (or conveyed)... a time long before the likes of Mountain Dew Code Red... a time when most of my creativity was on hold and most of my conformity was fed and monetary (and typical cultural) success was my crowning achievement... and during this time I accumulated much stuff (in the immortal usage of the word re-coined by George Carlin another once upon a time)... and just when we might have thought everything was lost, I remember that we can always laugh (I hope) and when all else fails (or anytime, I hope again) ask George (and the true irony of all rebellions and aimless angst or ethical pathos might very well be found in and on the price tags tied to the caprecious Carlin who finally found a place (and a price) for all of his stuff... anyway, while searching for a link to a the text of a certain bit of babble that would perhaps enhance (or add depth to or at least amuse or confuse) this entry, I wrote this: Hi webmaster of carlinstuff.com (insert smiley here) and that's the email inspired by and sent to the webmaster of the, well, that should be obvious if you read it... you did just read it, right?... anyway, the text I was searching for to link to the word stuff simply to emphasize the relative irreverence of the concept in my mind is the third track on this CD which is a smattering of some of George's genius (which is good ways connects with John Lennon's genius, in my mind, but then, that's my mind we're talking about so perhaps the connections are not as obvious to you or others... George is rather clever and insightful and possibly even phrophetic (though sometimes I hope not) and if you agree, you may be bipolar too (stationary is boring) and well, take it from this guy, we're not alone (I think)... but I don't think he was the one I was referring to earlier, if there is one, or only one, or something or anything or whatever... you must remember this, even if you don't... moving right along and bringing the rioty (or do I mean irony, he asks rhetorically) full circle, I find another old friend I never met (seems to be a pattern or something, huh?) who may have sent me the email that woke me from my latest bout of sleepwalking today (which would be yesterday in entry timeline) listed among the sites brought to me while searching for the text of the George Carlin bit about stuff I mentioned earlier... so anyway, as I was saying (or writing, to be more precise), I was watching MacGyver earlier which nudged forward the memories of the dear person I shared life with once upon a time and behind that memory was the stuff that seemed to ask to be thought about as I emerged from my recent hibernation in the email I wrote yesterday in response to concern about me which I took to respond to in a rather abstract manner, sort of... it was during those curiously domestic and rather sedentary years of material success and creative starvation that I accumulated much stuff... CDs, vinyl records, tapes, videos, books, magazines, toys, games, clothes, electronics, musical instruments, and more stuff... some of the stuff meant a great deal to me, especially the words and music I created or compiled... creating tapes (now we'd call them mix CDs) was one of the most important creative experiences I found in this life... missing those soundtracks of this life is a profound loss, not having the library of music to create more mixes is an emptiness that I have not found means to express, a depressive feeling powerful enough to keep me from working for the financial means of replacing the library of music (nothing that a few tens of thousands of dollars could do in a few long days of ordering CDs... though sadly, much of the vinyl is not available on CD yet)... so much stuff missing or lost, and still I've yet to count the cost... so all that stuff was boxed and put into storage almost ten years ago and I've been paying for storage every month since then... foolish, perhaps, as much of the stuff is probably useless (like once expensive top of the line appliances) and I probably could have replaced most if not all of the stuff with the payments I've made over the years... what, $130 a month until last year when it ewent up to $140 a month (yes, it's a big storage space)... $1560 a year for ten years... $15600, back then that was about my spending money for a music budget for a year... now that might be total net salary for a whole year... less pressure, less stuff, which makes the stuff in storage all the more valuable to me cuz it's not replaceable at the moment... and that's a lot of CDs and stuff (though the vinyl records, if they are still playable, are not replaceable... nor are the home-made tapes, again if they are still playable... or the writings on computer disks... or the writings on paper... or the memories... whaaaa waaaaa waaa, just go get it, right?... ah, now I see the connection in my sleepy mind... need a means to the end... a few thousand to rent a truck and transport the stuff down here... the thread of reason in my brain suddenly makes sense, to me at least... far be it for me to get to the thought directly though, that would be too easy... and far be it for me to ask anyone for anything cuz that would mean trusting and depending and every time I did that before, it ended with loss of stuff and rip off and depressing betrayals and loss of faith in humans and myself... risk it again?... I suppose, if I want the stuff... and when I wake with hope and appreciation for life and you who share it with me, when I wake with a belief in myself that my being and thoughts and feelings and creativity is valued, missed, and worth sharing as I did a moment or two in the email response included in yesterday's entry, I believe the storage costs are well worth it for the stuff in storage has more value than money can afford... and I dream someday someone will sort through those many boxes of memories with me... putting old war horses and demons and wonderful dreams to bed and starting some new wonders to share... make it like a memory, you know... and you may be the only one, whomever you may be, and so it goes...
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