shower gel?... I thought it was a new candy or drink... imagine my disappointment...

drugs are bad, m'ok?... like, if you have to ask, why should we tell you?...

ok, that was snippy... I'm feeling kinda snippy these days... stupidity at work and management taking their sweet time to do something about it probably helps... and reading the news... there's just so much stupidity in this world, it's a wonder anybody has any hope for humanity at all...

of course I am the craziest looney in the bin, since I've got this never ending supply of hope and keep using it (it's the keep using it part that makes me certifiable)...

I probably consume too much salt...

as you might have noticed already, my mind if having a bit of a bout of ADD... a bit of a bout of, I like that phrase... I think I will start using it a lot... a bit of a bout of weather we're having, aye?... a bit of a bout of fun to be had by all... a bit of a bout of a pickle we're in, huh?... a bit of a bout of power to this thing, isn't there?... and we're in a bit of a bout of babble, aren't we?...

yes, I think we'll just have to make it our new motto, or part of our new motto, or somthing that just kind of pops up in casual conversation without thinking... kind of like kilroy was here... no wait, kilroy doesn't pop up in casual conversation... at least not in the last few decades, anyway... for those of you not old enough to remember (which is just about all of us, unless you're pushing seventy and have good recall of childhood memories, in which case, more power to ya grandpa... or gramdma... I hope to be cooking up diary entries when I'm past my seventieth... can you imagine?...

I mean, think about it... you're fifteen and doing this diary thing online full steam... or you're four and your mom or dad are helping you get started... and if the planet is still around and inhabitable by human life in, say, sixty years, it'll be 2065... one hundred years after the great hippie decade when the land of the free got over some of it's great hypocrisy... eleven years before the tricentenial of the USA, assuming there's still a USA... maybe extraterrestrials have made contact publically, maybe not, but still, you'd be pushing 75 years around (or a little less if your mom or dad are helping you right now) and your archives would have seventy gazillion entries in it and if you're hoping someone will read it all you're even more hopeful (or crazier) than me...

well, maybe not, cuz that's exactly what I'd be hoping...

a bit of a bout of idealistic romanticism, aye?...

yo...

what would Buddha do?...

ever notice how our culture kind of expects a brilliant scientist to have an accent, like Eastern European or something?... ever notice how our culture kind of expects comedy from an Indian accent?... I mean an Indian from India, not a native of this land called Americas... ever notice how our culture kind of expects dumb statements from a southern accent?... or at least for all people from the south to be rednecks?... a bit of a bout of prejudice, no doubt...

go play with this quartet for a while...

or listening to this...

freaking cool... and you say you want to learn to play the guitar?...

dude...

I am so feeling the missing entries... I mean, there's the August 5th entry that was nudged aside by the speeding train called blogathon... that was supposed to be 100 things I love or like or something like that... I've seen so many people doing it... I've never done a hundred things, at least not all by myself... I did a 202 things with the help of my far away friend Tim, but never all by myself... and besides, this 100 things that's going around is not the same as those typical 100 or 101 things many people have tucked into the bio section of their blogs...

and then there's the August 14th entry that was recently skipped... that was a, hmmmm, I forget... there was a purpose, a theme, a reason, a title, at least... there's always something that sparks an entry... yes, but there was more than a spark... there were many words and I'll find them and continue their thoughts one of these days...

and then there are all the skipped entries in other writing places, especially some of the top places found here going all the way back to 2003 (or was it 2002, or maybe even 2001) when I paused most suddenly in my daily journal of sorts, for just a moment, mind you, on my domain website to take a walk, mostly as a lark, through the public diary communities... I really did think I would be right back... all the quotes (laptop friendly) that lead off all the entries... and so many bursting to pop out of my brain and form entries of their own just shelved for this other way of daily babble...

no wonder I feel disconnected...

careful, I'll be missing music soon...

but I am feeling a bit more connected lately... I mean in the real world, the touchy feely world offline, not the egocentric online babbling world where I am the star and I have an imaginary sea of smiling faces (fans, circa 1970 BeeGees, or thereabouts) gawking idyllically at me... the phone rings occasionally again... and people leave me notes and stuff... I mean the same people come back, like friends... even when I don't leave them a note first... so I thank you for helping me feel more connected lately...

I know it takes a lot of words for me to say something that can better be said in a very few words, but I might be quite bored with myself if I said all I need to say in a few words (or I'd write a thousand entries a day)... still I've gotta admire a guy who can do The Complete Works of Shakespeare in fifty words or less...

and I just realized that I must download and install an FTP program on this desktop computer because I can not access, upload, or edit pages to my other sites now... and I noticed the oldest of the entries are not linked properly and won't be able to see why or fix them (so you can not start at the beginning, which is a very good place to start, at the moment)... that is sad... I must find time to download, install, and fix stuff soon...

I mean, not everything is better when it's fixed, but much stuff is...

and to my adored (and adoring) hiss, all is well, if I didn't feel the sadness and lonelies, I'd wander off to some mountaintop and contemplate my navel happy as a clam and leave this mad world of mixed metaphors and massive missives behind... it's the loneliness that keeps reminding me of how much I love sharing and keeps me coming back for more... to be read, to be understood, to be cared about, to be cared about well... I offer more than yous than these words can hold and wishes for still more...

just a bit of a bout of da blues, no worries, I love da blues (it makes such sweet and powerful music and maybe that's how I need to return to music after being so long away... singin' da blues... from Harry's Bluesman to the deepest darkest blues of the old masters... I mean, I don't necessarily want me to cry me a river, but I do want to feel all I can feel again and to get back there, I must mourne the time that passed in limbo, in numb regress, in cool comfort as a casualty of casual... that is the way I can trust myself to find myself again and then, love where I left myself (circa 1970 Moody blues)...

suddenly, Blue Rodeo comes to mind...

yes, I believe in always (and freaking seductive images distracting me from the ADD I was floating through for a while there... in fact, it was a certain banner image that brought me around to focus on myself which reduces the ADD to a puddle of plush pity and old BeeGees songs {before the disco years} and of course, the Moody Blues, among many others... notice I haven't gone as deep as Harry yet, not really, but am I actually thinking in music again?)...

wow, you (that's the universal plural form) don't know (and I wish someone did)...

I told you to be careful...

that's me talking to myself, in case you didn't follow... I so miss my tapes... did they survive ten years in storage... they crossed into their eleventh year in storage back in April... time can be profound, almost as profound as music... if there anybody going to listen to my story? (yeah, circa 1965, Beatles)...

ironically, here's a bit of a bout of it, as it poured out in a note I just wrote... poet, know it, whatever...

are you taking me down (to strawberry fields?... or da blues?) or am I taking myself down and coincidentally, you've found yur heart broken... mine has been broken many times and for a long long time now... it still works, still fantasizes pretty good, still believes in love and tells me it's ready to take a full flying leap into the shared illusion, if only someone came along who shared a similar enough illusion... it doesn't ask me if I ask for too much or what I did wrong or why I've been alone for what feels like an eternity, it only awaits the next moment of falling while dreaming of the fall...

trusting is the rubic's cube that gets more and more challenging to solve... and yet, sometimes I just melt when I see eyes that tell me I can trust them... I do not need a reason or evidence or any logic, and it's not always the typical falling in love in the romantic or sensual sense, it's a falling into trust that is a mutual adoption, a timeless feeling of knowing and trusting the eyes and the person behind the eyes forever...

I hope you do not find yourself behind a wall that keeps you from the solution to your ability to trust, no matter how many times your heart is broken, no matter how many people do not return your love...

I wish I could help more than to just offer that hope, but heck, I've got no solutions to the relationship gig... it's obviously not something I'm too great at, just something I love to dream about... a lot... and tease myself about... a lot...

let it out, let it go, let it ride... remember all the wonder inside... let it go, let it flow, fuck the pride... remember how you love the ride...

the excitement comes from knowing that it could crash, the believing passion and wonder comes from hoping and believing that it won't...

I remember Harry Chapin...

If you try to look
But you don't touch
Then you won't touch
But you'll never feel
And if you don't feel
You'll never cry
And if you don't cry
Then you'll never heal

and I dare to love again... but daring that, I know the feeling of being half of a whole and that can hurt so much... every moment alone is a broken heart when I am daring to love again...

that's why it's so much easier to turn off... and yet, that is not easier for me... it's confusing and illogical and against my nature...

so I learn to live with the pain and hope to find someone to make it go away again... even if it's all illusion (the pain and the feeling of falling that makes it go away)... it's an emotional roller coaster better than any experience I can imagine so I'll keep it, believe in it, and make it real for me...

so why leave all this in a note to you?... if I explain I'd have to love you (hope the serious laugh in there is one you can find too

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