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2006-04-11 - 9:03 a.m. I'll get by with a little help from my friends ok, so this is not one of the more popular entries... and there's been no time for another... you could encourage me, of course, but then, that could just be a ploy to distract you from your mad dash to try to catch me...
within me or without you... for the one who understands... and the friends... ok, so I gave this place (that would be the place where I work for the paycheck to pay the bills in the physical world, in case you thought I mean blogmad, my other home lately, ya know, and if you come through there then click here so you can keep reading this entry in another window while you continue surfing for credits and really great blogs in this window and let me know you were here with a comment if ya will so I know where you write yours and can shout back to you... I do so appreciate your taking the time to read and comment)... ummm, lost already?... well, not quite... see, I gave this place (work) three solid hours of work (which is unfortunately, without exaggeration, about three days to three weeks of the normal productivity of the staff who do some work in this place, mostly because computer ineptitude and general laziness is so prevalent here... and yes, there are some folk who get away with doing almost nothing, which is why I feel good about balancing their work with my writing), completing one major project and moving another on to it's next stage (where it's been stuck for a couple of weeks because it depends on other people doing their part so I recruited another player in the hope it'll get the ball rolling), and now it's time for me to play with words for me (and you) instead of playing with creating forms and organizing information for them... and how are we tonight?... maybe already too late?... that would be where you respond, see, early on tonight... I figure maybe if I ask at the start of the entry you might choose to comment more (because by the end of the entry most of you are either gone or asleep, so I understand that commenting is rather challenging in when you're not here physically or mentally)... yes, I am pandering for comments again... not that I don't appreciate the comments I do get (I wish I could show each one of you how much I appreciate you already... maybe someday... like if I win a lottery or something)... I am in an exceptionally bouncy good mood at the moment, which is very odd considering I slept maybe two hours (in the big green chair... with Raspy and Precious watching TV the whole time) and I am here at work and have not had any caffeine or sugar (maybe not eating a large meal just before coming to work is better... but the trouble with that routine is I want a large meal when I get home and then I fall asleep and the body fills fat cells with the excess calories... balance, right... eat smaller meals instead of one giant meal and a snack... wise advice, if I'd only take it... meanwhile, I am about as unmotivated to stay optimally healthy as I've ever been in this life these days... will writing that here change my attitude?... hasn't yet, but at least I'm not giving up on the physical me)... and as if the energy attracts and inspires energy (and we know it does, even if we've not read The Celestine Prophesy and similar stuff recently), Bert comes bouncing over (from the other side of the hospital) asking if I want to run a marathon... I love Bert... he's just so optimistic, even if a bit naive at times... sure, run a marathon, great idea... maybe we should get back to walking a few miles each day again first though?... oh, there I go being sarcastically helpful... I mean, it is good advice for someone planning to run a marathon... a few of the people here used to walk a few miles each morning a few times a week... I used to run a few miles each morning a few times a week... just just look (yeah, I keep records of progress when I talk myself into getting back into shape... though I traded the outdoor trail for the lifecycle in the gym for a few reasons, the Florida heat and wanting a more complete body workout and considering the angle/knee wear and tear being three of the reasons off the top of my head... I wonder where I'd fall back to now that I've gained at least 25 pounds and have been a couch potato for more than a year)... so... Bert is gonna talk me into getting back in marathon condition?... he asked if I knew of any marathons in the area and I told him about the Disney marathon which I believe is in December, maybe January... that gives us eight or nine months... setting a reasonable goal of finishing in five hours might be doable... or else I won't live to see my next birthday because I've vegetated too long and... ah, but let's not think in terms of worst case scenarios... I suppose my doctor will be pleased... and worried... she tends to worry a lot... then again, it could be the Bells Palsy that contorts her face that I read as a worried expression... at least it looks like Bells palsy... she's a strong willed no nonsense doc who errs on the side of caution though, which is why I like her... oh course in my current bouncy good mood I am all for getting back into marathon shape... and overly optimistic about finding daily motivation and actually following through too, so Bert came just at the right moment... the trail they will be using is about thirty feet from the property line of my apartments... in fact, when I first moved here I chose this place (and the specific apartment) because it was about fifty yards from my front door to the trail... now it's probably more like two hundred yards or so... yeah, a major drive... so if I am to start working out right after work again, that means I am going to have to get back into a much more stable sleep pattern that requires much more discipline than I've created in myself in well over a year... and it will require swimming against the current of the living space and the roommates (who view getting up to walk to the fridge as too much exercise)... and I tend to absorb the energy level of those closest to me in space, so laziness has become the habit du jour for me since the last three people I've lived with over the last five years have been major league couch potatoes... but then, just cuz that's a convenient excuse doesn't mean I ought to use it... Bert is no slouch himself when it comes to the couch potato Olympics, so we shall see just how durable his sudden idea and motivation turns out to be... perhaps his recent loss will be a life changing motivator and perhaps I'll grab his coattails and ignore the landslide into the complacent vegetative state that my living space has become... it would be so much easier with the right motivation (sex works, in case any fit young bodies are interested)... why are you laughing? (he asks ever so innocently)... I actually did find the motivation to re-start my workout journal as this year began, but I obviously have not done much about adding anything to it... you might notice that the workout journal is embedded in the land of the mostly dead... that is where it belongs in my mind because it (and I) have been mostly dead in terms of this physical world for a number of years now and as well as I can procrastinate and waste away, I don't tend to pull any punches when confronting myself about the good, the bad, and the ugly I do... not that my self-confrontations change anything, but I feel good about being honest with myself... meanwhile, this was singing: why do fools fall in love... ok, so maybe I am for the birds (why do birds sing all day... what?... you don't know the song?)... hey, speaking of knowing songs and stuff, Luka should be easy to fall in love with if she keeps talking music and movies as she has recently... while there's a bittersweet tint to realizing that I've forgotten way more musical and movie trivia than, well, a lot, there's still much excitement when music and movies spark memories and catharsis in me and even more excitement in learning new music and the most excitement of all in the prospect of sharing... so yes, remind me to read more music and movie blogs... yes Smed, Dangerspouse, and Radiogurl (and more)... I know I neglect you and therein we find the rub (in the Shakespearean sense of the word, though a good massage would be great too)... I find equal amounts of pain and sorrow in listening to music or watching movies alone these days because, well, I'm just a lonely boy and pathetic enough to throw pity parties instead of enjoying the experience of the things I love most (other than loving people and other favorite things)... the romantic fool (not so sure if this is the cleverly stupid moment I was referring to before) has some dream of the right person coming along and waking me up inside (hey, that could be a good song lyric... pardon me whilst I cleareth my throateth most theatrically sarcastically)... but no, really, I am the impossible dreamer, remember?... my Dulcinea awaits... my Maria (say it soft and it's almost like praying)... my Buttercup (death can not stop true love)... my Roxanne... Roxanne?... hmmmm, maybe The Police were not exactly talking about this particular fantasy there... irreverence to the rescue, aye? (or at least saved by the music)... yeah, well, I might throw great pity parties and can cry if I want to, but I don't always attend them... sometimes I observe the festivities (and watch the wheels) from somewhere just off the balcony (pixie dust, anyone?... or maybe you have tea parties on the ceiling because you love to laugh... well we're not sorry Uncle Albert), or perhaps up on the roof (when this old world starts getting me down)... there are at least eight film references and fifteen song references since my mention of fools falling in love (and I didn't count that one)... I wonder how many of them you can find and name?... shall I offer 10 Blogmad credits for each you can come up with (that's 230 credits up for grabs tucked away way down here in the bowels of the babbling of this entry... I can see the credit bill running a lot higher though, considering my subconscious habit of slipping film and song references into my babbling... but we're just counting from the why do fools fall in love point, ok?... back in reality, Bert just returned from a break where he printed out all the information about the Disney Marathon... $100 to register and a mandatory 16 minute mile maximum or they pick you up and drive you to the finish line... that's a seven hour pace... I can probably do that without much preparation, but I'd like to actually do better than walking most of the way... yes, 16 minute miles would be a brisk walk, but still a walking pace as far as I'm concerned... meanwhile, I shouldn't count my miles before they hatch, huh?... suddenly my nose is picking up the distinct aroma of the hemp plant... talk about sensory memory... I often used to smoke before my long runs when I first started distance running... the runs became wonderfully meditative... says here there's a 16,000 participant capacity... what, they only want to make 1.6 million dollars?... wonder if they charge $3 for bottle of water... they do not state that refreshments will be provided throughout the race, which is odd... the post race awards party is at Downtown Disney and Pleasure Island, where they do charge $3 for a bottle of water... and of course the Marathon printout does encourage participants, who've already paid $100 just to run through the parks, to book hotel and restaurant reservations and purchase multi-day park tickets... sheesh, the least they could do is let you have a single day park ticket for $100... or a bottle of water... it also says here that they place you in corrals... how appropriate... I wonder if they'll get offended if we moo... the irony of Disney is that the park is supposedly known for fun fun fun, but behind the scenes they are quite an uptight bunch on the job... so many rules of behavior and they keep their lace so straight that mathematicians would be impressed... it's similar the military in many ways... and apparently they want you to visit Disney's Health and Fitness Expo a few days before the actual marathon to pick up a race packet... so out of towners must come for at least two days... even those of us who live an hour away or so have to drive down for just to pick up the race packet because there is no race day pickup... they definitely know how to make paying them more money more convenient... and they don't allow headphones... no music allowed at the Disney marathon... of course, that would encourage individuality and that's just not Disney... yeah, so I figure I'll start getting all my cynicism out now so I'll be all wide-eyed and Disney-ready by the time of the race... so I can look past the corporate commercialism and money-grubbing manipulations... I'm really a sappy Disney kid at heart... so dear Bert did good... I'll be sending my $100 tomorrow if they take it over the internet... and I'm already experiencing chest pains... oh I jest... well, sort of... sleeping only a couple of hours every forty eight hours does tend to throw the body for a loop... and it's time for tea... yes, Bert did return with a Code Red for me, but it's too cold in this place for anything cold... anybody wondering who buys flannel shirts in Florida, it's night shift workers... especially hospital night shift workers... and wholesale food service workers too... Rasputin's office is pretty much in a freezer (he's a wholesale seafood shipping manager, in case you didn't pick up on that in previous entries)... there's no big finish for this entry... at least not yet... so I ponder the life we live from my perspective and find sorrow in the way people conform, frustration in the way people empower fear and diminish love and pretend it's ok to waste the gift of being born... and I wonder if I became one of them... all this life I took refuge within a pen... in these words I remember how it feels to be real and I promise myself once again that I will not give into fear... even if I cut my hair this year... and so I share some thoughts on becoming an older child... and the hope that you are out there, even if you're hiding inside and you understand and cheer me on, even if I'm publicly denied because it's easier to conform than reach for individuality and the irony is no one really wants to be free, but still freedom rings in songs we sing and it's a cause most fought for... even if it's just to keep it hidden behind a closed door... all my life I've been my own muse... maybe there's another who dares to refuse... to conform to a game that's played to lose... growing up is all about paying dues... and becoming what we watch on the news... not so much walking in another's shoes... but following footsteps down the same blues clues snooze... and if there's any hope at all for those who are not afraid to be free, those who reach for themselves and individuality, on becoming an older child in a world that pretends there is no more pretend, we get by with a little help from our friends, and in the end, we get by with a little help from our friends... thank you for the love you make, thank you for the love I take, thank you for the love I gave, thank you for the love you save in sharing love we save the love we gave... in sharing love we free ourselves from being fear's slave... yeah, so... wanna come run a marathon with me?...
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