LIFE

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last---past---next---now
( FEATURED OTHERS 'n STUFF )

MEG AND DIA!

ORLANDO?

WHERE IT BEGAN


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MEANING OF LIFE
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last---past---next---now



SITES I SEE A LOT
IxQuick Search
Google Search
itools references
movie database

Giga-Quotes

Harry Chapin Lyrics
SSA




OLD AND NEW READS
(WISH I HAD MORE TIME
TO READ and EXPLORE)

mother jones
utne reader
common dreams
the progressive
mediate
the other side
orion
harper's
rolling stone
reel classics


fallout shelter
the memory hole
song meanings
truth out
wil wheaton
bugmenot
global news matrix
break for news
are you generic?
neil gaiman
h2g2
daily kos
the truth laid bear
reason
capitol hill blue
boing boing
nobody here




SITES I AM CONSIDERING
SEEING MORE OFTEN

3Hive
metafilter
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REFERENCE LIBRARIES

questia
wikipedia
gutenberg
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deep web search engines
itools references
movie database
Giga-Quotes
rare-lyrics
all musicals




AMUSEMENTS

Diaryland Times
home star runner
hell
hell too
sinfest
ill will press
the guide
purple
despair
maximum awesome
86 the onions
straight dope
something awful
glossy news
eric conveys emotion
odd todd
cracked



CULTURE

the superficial
darwin awards
this is true
urban legends
news of the weird
church of the fsm
the onion
god checker
faqs
fark
iGod
post secret
webby awards
meetup
the white house
ragged trousered philosopher
the smoking gun
the defective yeti
landover baptist
evil bible


COMMERCIAL CRAP (AND PRON)

(Note: pron is porn worth a look for amusement much more than passion, so if you see a (p) next to a link, be aware naked people may appear if you click it, m'ok?)

beautiful agony (p)
(a turn on or a laugh?)
real doll (p)
(the ultimate self-indulgence)

(or it could just be a typo)




PROMPTS
(IF YOU KNOW ONE LET ME KNOW)


Unconscious Mutterings
Friday Feast
Wednesday Whatevers
Sunday Brunch
Monday Madness
Thursday Threesom
Saturday Questions




(make it real)

PO BOX 780398
Orlando, FL 32878

send me some music
your favorite music
old or new
blissful or blue
let your message come through
and I will love you forever



last---past---next---now
�2006 Candor Communications


2005-12-13 - 10:13 a.m.

healing


and the song Stone Soup (Tom Chapin, based on an old folk tale, I believe) plays in my mind as I find, amidst the seering pain of loss and self-doubts of betrayed loves, hope and profound thoughts emerge...

this was Monday or Tuesday's entry... probably Monday's but then, who knows... it's the day after the day before this day and the day before the day after today, otherwise known as the day after yesterday and the day before tomorrow... in any case, I'll let you read the entry now, pointing out that as I upload it, days after it was written, I am feeling much better (even if I sound as crazy as ever)...


I am pushing beyond good sense now... instead of sleeping today, I picked up Precious at school because just as I was nodding off, the phone rang and rang and rang (ten missed calls) until it woke me...

it was set on vibrate...

sometimes the vibrations are stronger that the rings, and I don't mean phone vibrations, especially when Precious is taking cold and flu medication and did not sleep all night before going to school because she had to try to finish an assignment that she left for the last minute...

again...

she forgot her Candlelight (Xmas chorus performances at Disneyworld) gear and I just took her back to school (cuz she begged for some extra time to finish more of that assignment)and so I was awake 26 hours before sleeping, again...

not wise when cold/flu bugs are trying to set up permanent residence... soup and a hot shower when I got home helped a lot, no more pains, but then I woke chilled after four hours with the burning throat and body that feels like it just went ten rounds with Mohammed Ali...

Mondays are usually catch up on sleep days, like as soon as I get home from work I nod off... I finally got to sleep around 3pm and woke around 6:30pm cuz I was chilled cuz my shirts were wet (and my hair was still wet too)... and as I changed my shirts, Rasputin came home (timing is amazing), followed by his girlfriend and Precious and now the activity is keeping me awake, but I'm going to try to shut my door and get two more hours sleep...

it's the drippy nose and throat pain that is most annoying, since it interferes with breathing and that's something I can not avoid... I can mostly avoid moving...

I just noticed that my chest has a bit of a burn to it as I've started coughing and my nose is running much more than it was before... apparently the bugs are moving around, trying to get stronger footholds...

obviously the body is demanding rest... obviously life doesn't permit time for such luxuries... again I consider calling in for work tonight... again I decide not to... again I hope not to be awake tomorrow, so again I will have no ramble for you unless I find some energy and focus at work... last night I found playing DX Ball distracted me and passed the night after the minimal work-work was done...

what I am doing to this body is not wise, not a good example for anyone, so I strongly urge you to not try this at home... no really, call me names or put me down in whatever way that works for you so you remove any glamour or amusement you might find in my blatent self-destruction...

no matter how cleverly I might present my case...

no matter how much love appears given away in the activities that keep me from giving myself the time and healing energy this body (and the rest of me, most likely, needs)...

and then, I wrote an email and I am not sure I sent it and I'm not sure who I wrote it to (was it you?... or you?... or you?... or was it to the frozen North Dakota plains?... or...

actually, I think it was to someone who needed a catharsis, to die and be reborn... I do that from time to time, it's very rejuvenating, I think, especially after a profound trauma of any sort... it flowed to rhyme at times and I felt good after writing it, so whomever it was actually written to, well, I found it, or some if it, in this file so here it is:

maybe writing this email will kick start my introspection (which is the heart of my diary writing because everything comes out from there and at the moment, until my diary writing is flowing, very little other writing flows)... or maybe I'll fall asleep as I've been doing in the mornings when I get home from work... or maybe I'll eat and then fall asleep, the worst compination that happens most often recently and the reason I am feeling bloated, lethargic, and stupid lately...

I definitely need some time off, time all for myself, and a refocus of my energies... it does not appear likely I'll get that anytime soon, so I've got to figure out another way... rearrange my brain, drastic measures, push the envelope (and this body) still farther than sanity or rationality or the laws of physics allow, something... if I die, I die... and music... back to the darkness... Gavin Friday... Linda Ronstadt... the lost tapes made from the CDs in storage... in storage... I must get myself out of storage... revisit (remake) those tapes... continue from where I left off living, before I became mostly dead... before I empowered the apathy and self-pity and blahs and ambivalence... it is all getting to be too much for the irreverence to defeat, repeair, overcome, remedy, do-over...

sometimes...

but there are no do-overs... there is only moving on... one step, one day at a time... on whatever hope is left (because there's always hope... I hope... or so my story goes... maybe... maybe I'm wrong... it was once a song... I think... therefore... I smell... I stink?... I'm not too well... the hope for my recovery is lost somewhere inside of me and what my final destiny may be or not to be is not something my eyes can see and self-doubt leads to misery so before there's a tragedy I need to find my memory and put myself back together cuz I must have fallen apart some time between the end of tomorrow and the start of my broken heart but time is a rolling river and fate is a shooting star and life is a moment's magic if you are just who you are... so just be who you are)...

I give advice and counsel... I'm told I do it well... so why is my life so fucked up?... the story's hard to tell... it's mostly still life waiting... for something left behind... that sounds a little crazy... but makes sense in my mind... so maybe I am crazy... and living is a waste... I know I've gotten lazy... but sometimes I can taste... and understand my senses... tell me much more than I know... once I knew... then I grew... now I hardly have a clue... what to do... what to do... what to do...

ah, the drama queen lives...

so there's some news, for what it's worth... and a piece of an entry to be... my life is not actually nearly as fucked as many people in this world, but it is decidedly more fucked than some people, but I am crazy enough to still find it amusing...


and I remember feeling like this... maybe that's what inspired the email... and the cold-flu bug... and life in general, the lonelies, the longings, the missing pieces, the lingering pains... and through it all, when there was doubt, I bit it off and spit it out... yeah, the music, saved by the music...

oh for the good old days when the mighty Dangerspouse was challenging us to send him old socks in exchange for his own personal Dangermix CD... I really miss the ramblin' wreck of NY radio, even if I hardly knew him and was never over for cocktails or franks even... maybe if I lament enough about not getting a copy of the DangerMix CD somebody will take pity on me and send me one... there are hundreds out there, after all...

I gave myself ten minutes to come up with a soothing CD for myself, for my psyche, for my heart... a CD personalized to be sung for catharsis, to be listened to for relaxation, to be performed for inspiration, to be heard for motivation...

it's the finale, the final act, the coasting after the roller coaster, the consolation after the war, the compromise after the loss, the hope reborn after the death of dreams...

it's the the gentle slide into the post-coital bliss and the wait for the next time... the promise to the lover, the friend, the child... the dream to share someday, the hope that day will come...

yeah, ten minutes to fix everything all by myself when the ultimate fix takes two... notice that The Impossible Dream is part of it... I love rock and roll, I need to headbang now and then, and I must laugh at everything at once least every day, but I also thrive on the beauty of hopeful words, of inspirational music, and on believing fairy tales can come true, it can happen to you...

ah, the irreverence is only surpassed by the sincerity, believe it or not, this is a path to my heart, to my soul, to me... let's call it After the Catharsis is Done...

the healing flows...


Sending My Good Thoughts To You
Remember Me, My Friend
Short Stories
And So It Goes
The Late Show
You'll Never Walk Alone
Smile
I've Got To Be Me
Imagine
The Impossible Dream
I'm Free
My Way
Maybe
Need To Be In Love
People
The One
Honesty
I Will
Song For Myself
Part of the Plan
Guardian Angel
When You Wake Up
I Wish You Peace
May Each Day
Patti Dahlstrom
Moody Blues
Harry Chapin
Billy Joel
Jackson Browne
Elvis
Al Jolson
Sammy Davis Jr
John Lennon
Richard Kiley
The Who
Elvis
Moody Blues
Carpenters
Barbara Streisand
Elton John
Billy Joel
Beatles
Harry Chapin
Dan Fogelberg
The Telling
Moody Blues
Eagles
Andy Williams







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the moment

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