ok, almost all but forgotten, I had my last hope for finding the entries lost Friday morning between work and home dashed as I did not somehow save the file to the work computer instead of the the floppy disk... so the chaos continues behind the candoor, which from your perspective may be business as usual around here, but from my perspective, well, there is an invisible thread of cohesion that connects everything throughout everything I create (including all of my my written gardens online and offline) and when that thread is broken by mistakes or forces outside of my sphere of influence, the cracks are very visible to me...

but if it's all jibberish to you anyway, nevermind...

and chances are, because this view behind the candoor is such a narrow slit into the world I know as my world (life, universe, quniverse, infiniverse, whatever we might choose to call it on any given day), the subtle nuances and even whole chunks of thoughts (not to mention lost or broken threads) are not as evident to you (maybe not at all) as they are to me...

so any grumbling I do about it might be misunderstood or pondersome and almost completely unnecessary, especially if it's negativity that is fed until it brings me down...

ah, the writing process reflects the psychological workings of my mind so well, if I could express it clearly I'd have a Nobel Prize in knowing me... and isn't that one of the primary goals we can all agree on in this life, that each one of us should strive to reach the maximum potential of knowing ourself?...

and then, everything else...

but from my experience with people, I have yet to meet another with truly insatiable curiosity and playfulness... brilliant people are usually seriously serious most of the time... and playful people are not as interested in honing their minds to brilliance (and I do believe a lot of intelligence is simply practice... I know that the mind can be exercised just as well as the body and within it's physical limitations, can far exceed expectations based on either genetics or environment)...

it's a personal decision, I think... each person chooses to exercise his or her mind or to not exercise his or her mind... as for me, I've chosen in most every moment of this life to play with my mind, which is a form of exercise, though does not have the formal structure of disciplined (and usually repetitive) exercise... I think that is because my nature is insatiably curious and constantly playful (and, for better or worse, relatively fearless)...

I suppose that could be quite dangerous in a laboratory, so the world is probably much better off for my not choosing to continue studying biology or chemistry or physics cuz I might have easily turned into a Dr. Frankenstein or played with stuff that could blow up the world (or even the whole infiniverse)...

yes, it is fun to maintain delusions of grandeur...

actually, it is from such delusions (or believing in a dream so deeply) that the greatest changes in human life and consciousness have come... so maybe I am a Q and don't know it...

aherm...

interesting that Gene Roddenberry chose the letter Q to identify beings in touch with the ethereal sub-atomic quarky qubit level of time and space and whatever else there is, since science chooses to label theorized sub-atomic particles with words starting with the letter... probably no coincidence and apparently not much to do with the anything (or everything to do with everything, I mean, Q is the letter just before the alphabet becomes legal, after all), but that thought just re-crossed my mind...

maybe a Q put it there...

yeah, I'll tease the Q and Qubits as much as I tease the God or gods in my own curious way as I probe the quniverse for knowledge and response...

I'm just goofy that way... or perhaps it's better labelled qoofy... quofy?... quoofy?... I think I prefer qoofy...

what are we calling the planet out past Pluto, anyway?...

and are there even more elongated threads of force holding even more distant planet-like objects in some sort of orbit around our Sun (and what about comets?) and ultimately a single qubit orbiting our Sun at the edge of the physical universe where it intersects or overlaps or both with the multiverse or quniverse?...

but what does that have to do with knowing self?

(knowing self, know-it-all, delusions of grandeur, anything's possible, sci-fi, the Q {Star Trek}, qubits, Qubit {the god}, God, gods, the G, goofy, qoofy, Goofy, Disney dogs, Pluto, Qubit {the planet}, superstrings, the unified theory, universe, multiverse, quniverse, infiniverse, everything, nothing, qubits, delusions, illusions, knowing, self... hmmmmm...

size?)

what was that?...

what does that have to do with knowing self?...

perhaps everything, but that's why we're on the road to find out... meanwhile, the varied species and subspecies (is the differention we make in racial features considered a subspecies?... goodness (or good gravy, even), I've forgotten so much more biology than I ever knew and once upon a time, as a 'special' student {special honors biology classes, EMT, LPN, pre-med, yadda yadda blah blah}, I knew some) on this planet are each following some natural laws of survival in spite of what our human brains conjure up about our special place and privileges in the scheme of things...

perhaps some day we will all understand we owe it all to Qubit...

or maybe that's Figment... oh, what will the Flying Spaghetti Monster say to that?... probably something like oh?... and what are the components within a qubit?... with all due respect for the telling of secrets and the wondrous advancements in numerical reasoning and future knowledge under the guise of science fiction that a few alien hybrids have given us, there are those who promote 42, some who promote 58, still others who promote 19, but I've always been a 17 kinda guy myself...

and 3, I've always been a bit partial to 3 as well...

perhaps I shall understand more when I turn 58, if I turn 58 (I mean, I could just glide straight on through it with no turns at all), but be that as it may be or not to be, this entry is an attempt to find the threads again and reconnect with the holy grail or whatever superimposed importance I can convey on the essence of understanding I seek in myself (and occasionally actually attempt to place into words, as futile as that endeavor may be)...

is it true that more is learned in the first five years than in the rest of a lifetime even if one lives beyond 100 years old?... true or not, that may be why mind mind believes (and acts like) it is four years old...

ah, I was wondering when the number would return to their usual spelled-out state... interesting, that... if you go in for such structural matters and don't mind yet another thread of yet another tangent woven into the fabric of this entry, however briefly...

sometimes the most potent bonds are created in a timeless instant...

and speaking of love, I am coming to the conclusion that I may never actually be in love again the way I know being in love can be... I am pondering the possibility that my own personal the one is not of this Earth, at least not right now, and perhaps not of this species... this is a brutal blow to the dreamer in me who's forever dreamed that this life would contain the moment that my the one and I would come together in every way (instead of merely being connected by the invisible threads of the wave/particles {qubits?} of love)...

la... la... la... some call me silly, for they are blinded by my brilliance and some call me folly, for they are fooled by my irreverence and some call me wise, for they are awed by my security, but I call it love, for that is all that matters to me... what was that Asleigh Brilliant pondered on a Pot Shot card some decades ago?...

"If love is such a powerful force, why is it not governed by some international agreement?"

or something like that...

those were something to behold, those Pot Shot cards... I wonder if they still make them... I've got a thousand or so storaged up in that slowly becoming legendary storage facility in upstate New York... one more box of dreams and memories and creative inspiration and gifts that sit and wait for me to decide it's time to start life all over again for the umpteenth time that will be the first time again... and I wonder if any one individual truly knows (consciously) and actualizes such near infantile innocence and mature awareness in the physical world... I feel sad when I am there and see that I am the only one...

waiting for the other shoe to drop...

so I babble to keep my mind occupied and amused, kind of like a literary crib toy mobile thing that lets me paint and push buttons and turn knobs and pull levers and flick switches and hear music and create a playful momentary game for myself (and anyone watching... thanks for being there, dear readers and commenters, who I value muchly because you make the game interactive) with words and the myriad of meanings found in each and in combinations...

and of course, in my spare time, I ponder the secrets of everything (and nothing) rather clumsily as if I know it all and must be careful not to give too much away in my bumbling attempt to appear as if I do not know it all...

yeah, sure...

and speaking of bumbling know-it-alls, I wonder how well Steve Martin is going to do Peter Seller's Inspector Clouseau (yes, it will always be Peter Seller's Inspector Clouseau to me, not matter who does the role)... and is the film a remake or a new story with new plot lines (and new gags)?... hopefully I'll find out soon (and no, I definitely do not want to know before I see it)...

speaking of spoilers, I keep seeing (actually hearing as I don't watch much TV, but it's almost always on when Resputin or Precious are home, so I hear a lot when I am not completely focused on reading or writing or something else) a trailer for When a Stranger Calls and that is a remake of an old story, a great twist, one of the classic twists in suspense and scary movies... the trouble is that the trailer gives the dang surprise plot twist away... what kind of idiots are remaking films these days?...

obviously none that'll hire me...

not that I've tried out for anything or developed any credentials that might even remotely present me to anyone in theatre or any area of show business that I can be packaged and sold on a screen or silvery disk... but talent is it's own credentials, right?... all I need is a break, Mister, just give me a chance to prove myself...

somehow being a starving artist holds more integrity for me than most any other choices... unfortunately, I may have waited a bit too long for a career in the theatre arts to begin and besides, I would probably improvise way too much... so what I need is instant fame so I can skip the proving myself years and therein not need any discipline and can jump right to getting away with being a Diva...

it could be that lack of sleep is finally catching up with me here... well, at least it is not another entry full of links to depressing news sites... not that there's no seriousness slipped into this stream of semi-consciousness, it's just that I'm more optimistic about everything when I am more in touch with the qubits and remembering not to sweat the small stuff like life and death and humanity's chances for survival...

if there's consciousness after this life, cool... if not, then oh well, we won't know and nothing really matters... I usually prefer to believe everything matters, so that's the illusion I create for myself... either way, this moment is the beginning, the middle, and the end of time... all there is...

so since I was here at work rambling on about this and that and whatever (and the secrets of the universe... shhhhh) and assorted references to whatever came to mind (and qubits)...

again, unfinished, incompleted, but maybe...

better than nothing...

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