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2006-04-26 - 7:39 a.m. gay cocken offen yam? (isoc, part two) birds do it, bees do it, even the fishes in the seas do it� and you can do it too if you jump in (in other words, to continue the thread of thought from the previous entry, stop waiting for Godot or whatever and jump in� the water is fine� and if you get eaten by a shark, well, you won't have to be lonely on the island anymore, right?� you may have blinked and missed the last few entries so if you're interested, go ahead, I'll wait� this is part two, after all, and a sequel takes time to come out just right� and all those words that came before serve some attention too, so if you've missed a few, saunter back and indulge your curiosity (and my ego) and stroke it where it'll do the most good� for you, I mean� you wouldn't want to miss a thing, would you?� or maybe you do� alas, we can't please everyone� so gay cocken, gay cocken offen, even� yam?� it may have been an irreverent idiom once, but now it's the title of one of my entries, so it's obviously important� excuse me whilst I yawn� am I boring me?� how rude� the point is, there is sometimes no point, but when there is, it is not always clear� and yet so many demand (of themselves or others) clarity� so many assume in order to create some clarity (false as it is) and then, in their infinite ignorance, judge� have you judged me?� I hope most of you have not, since most of you have not met me and therefore, how could you know enough to judge anything� even after spending a few hours with a relative stranger you know only through words online, how could you really know the person?� I would re-read my word on the subject if I was connected at the moment (I'm at work again� seems I write much more at work lately than at home� this is because I've had my own computer at work for the last few months and also because, for the last two months, I've been spending much of my online time at home chatting at, your guessed it, blogmad, in addition to the slight increase in browsing I do since starting to surf through blogmad sites� actually, I may be browsing less if I actually could measure� I am certainly saving fewer links, if that's a sign� I mean in my and this is where I wandered this week entries� that's cuz I'm seeing sites I already linked before and haven't put up one of those entries in weeks� I suppose I still haven't completely adjusted to adding blogmad to my daily routine� I'm not sure if it's an overall change that will continue, especially the habit of not uploading an entry every day that I seem to have fallen into lately� though I am experiencing a backlog of completed entries since I am trying not to upload a bunch all at the same time� � hmmmm, I am pondering whether I am spending too much time pondering the presentation, or at least the timing of uploading entries, and if that is distracting me� blip� blip� blip� maybe that is like shitting in the ocean)� and am I investing too much time and energy into pondering whether anyone has judged me?� let's see� if you are a complete stranger, your judgment of me is meaningless, perhaps the most meaningless of all� so investing time in that would be a waste� except for ego who really gets into the superficial popularity things� if we've exchanged notes/comments and read each others words sometimes, then our judgments of each other as people are still pretty much assumption� and wishful thinking� I always try to see the person behind the site as a beautiful person with good intentions who has the same love and potential in them as I do� investing time in assumptions is a waste, but if you really are a beautiful person and I just don't know it cuz you haven't shown me, well, it's good karma points� but to know each other?� heck, I'm still getting to know myself� and the people I live with (for years)� so in the end, it's really pretty futile to judge anyone, especially online� especially if it's any sort of negative judgment� so I am reminding myself that if someone does not like me (and says so) or someone does like me (and says so), it is only as meaningful to me as I want it to be because I am imagining who that person is, really� so I will imagine that everyone who tells me, through words or gifts, or favorites lists, or comments, or any which way, that they like me is smart, wise, beautiful, intelligent, good, loving, kind, generous, beautiful, and, of course, right� and everybody who does not like me and tells me in some way, they just missed the point of how wonderful I am and are forgiven for their misunderstanding� after all, they are the ones missing out� and this is just the tip of the iceberg of the fantasies we all create for ourselves, the illusions we buy into as our reality� or perhaps that's just me, so if this perspective disturbs you, then nevermind� it's not you, it's just me who plays these mind games with myself� and I love them, most of the time� especially when I find a muse who inspires my rhymes� especially if that person does not mind� even more if he or she encourages me� worhip is ego's domain, but feel free� or when I find a photo of a face or body that turns me on (I seldom find someone encouraging me to go on from there� so much fear and such, alas, their loss)� imagining is what it's all about� and as I've said many times over the years, it's so much sweeter when someone understands, sweeter still when that person encourages my muses to continue the imaginary journey of falling in love with the illusion they inspire in my mind� and it's sad when that is misunderstood or unwanted� but like Bob said, some people are disconnected� come to think of it, I think Bob cocked in the yam� and that is the point, obviously (well, obvious to some, I hope)� Bob isn't real (shhhh, don't tell him)� we aren't really real in the sense of what is real in our daily lives� we move toward becoming closer to real when we start actually interacting, communicating, conversing� and if we talk on the phone we take a whole new step toward being real for each other� another level of closeness that is still so much based on hope and imagination, but much more real than silently reading words� and if we find time and means to visit, to spend some time in space with each other, we move the realness exponentially closer to actual realness (whatever that might be for each of us in our daily physical lives)� it's a good thing, I think, to think positively and create closeness through words� it's even better, I think, to build bridges through other communications when you find someone you appreciate and want to call a friend� but as in anything, it can be dangerous to assume too much� it probably takes some measure of wisdom (maturity, intelligence, experience, sense, whatever it might be called) to understand and relate to what I am saying here� to differentiate between the real and the illusion (when they are so much the same in so many ways, but that's another story loosely outlined in books like The Celestine Prophesy (James Redfield) and Illusions (Richard Bach), among others� perhaps a tale told by a madman to a fool who wrote it down� or an idiot, for that matter� but be that as it may or may not be, I hope you all can relate to what I am saying here� and Bob, relate to Bob too� he neeeds after all� and if I believe that need is an illusion, what then?� confusion?� exclusion?� seems so, at least� sometimes even refusal and hostility forged in denial's hellish bosom� rage against this machine, why don't you?� it could be that some of us are left for others to care for and some of us are left alone, but some of us don't care at all according to all their actions have shown, but they'll tell you they care and justify their evil deeds by claiming they are thinking of some other people's needs when all they really want to do is satisfy their greed and if they cared they'd stop doing the things that make others bleed� the meter isn't just quite right, but that's not all that's wrong and there are more important things than making this a song� and when the truth arrives will you claim you knew all along?� and what will you do if you have been wrong?� the fact is (if a fact exists) that sometimes there is no point (or so you might believe), but there is ,I>always a message, even when it appears dull, blunt, or non-existent� it is like tumblers in an infinite lock, some may appear inconsequential to the opening of the lock at any given moment, but the combinations required to unlock the lock are constantly changing and each tumbler exists for a specific purpose and if you truly want open the lock, you must figure out just the right combination for the precise moment you are there� or here, for that matter� where words become tumblers and understanding becomes that which is locked within the words� I know you were clever enough to see that analogy coming, being that you have minds and all, but did you dare to step through the door (or are you still fumbling with the lock?)� gay cock in what?� ah, the title revisited� it's actually not English and it has nothing to do with a gay cock in anything� it's Yiddish if I must divulge secrets so blatantly (how rude), which is (if memory serves me right) a kind of Jewish German dialect� or is that Russian?� or some such eastern European mixture of Hebrew and Germanic tongues� I had a Jewish grandmother in one of my adopted families in NYC and I picked up a few words here and there� of course I have no idea how to spell them, but I estimate phonetically� see, I went and spoiled the mystery of the title� well, a little� but at least the entry itself remains a mystery, which is the point of the entry (what?) anyway� if you only believe what your eyes see, or worse, if you only believe what your mind tells you your eyes see, then you could not understand what is going on in me because all you know is what's going on in you� and it's that way for most of us, but there are a few who dare to remain open for what is true� and we're better for that even if it never comes� for we didn't assume and didn't prejudge and didn't succumb to our fears of not knowing and when everyone gave up we still kept going and when everyone's asleep we still keep growing� how long have I been drifting on through the night how long have I been holding on with all my might for the one I need? paraphrased, of course� hoping to find with all of my might� why has no one made that connection� because no one really has time to read enough to know� it's probably spelled out in rhyme or babble in candora over the ages (yes, candora babbles too, just not very often)� it should be in the musical journeys, but those were left so unfinished it could be we haven't gotten there yet� but surely it was left in the previous journals� I've been doing this babbling online almost every single day since 1997, after all� where do I begin to tell the story of how great a love can be?� sugar rush into a sweet nod, bloated belly begs for supine pastures, discomfort distracts, the mind reacts, and that's the facts, that's the facts� will I still be able to eat a whole pound of M&Ms in one sitting with a liter of Code Red or super sweet something drink as a chaser when I am old?� how about when I am sixty-four?� will you still be bringing me a Valentine?� still pulling all-nighters?� a quarter to three?� will anyone be there at all?� then again, maybe many have made the connection and lost it yawning� it's still the same old story, after all� and that seems to get boring for most people� in fact, many flat out reject the emotional from their lives� males call it chick flicks and maybe females call it sappy and put it down... laugh it off� demean the power of the heart� afraid to feel� afraid to let anyone know� hey, you've got to hide your love away� and that is why some of my most personally profound (or at least revealing) entries may be buried three or more deep in a flood of words and entries� though I am not so sure about that this time, or anymore, perhaps, since I am exposing that trick of the hide-away trade right here and now� and what about the fifty entries I uploaded right here behind the candoor on one August day last year?� those were actually written all that one day in August last year� the link has been on the left all along, along with all those other links to lists of things about me and other places I write and other entries I've highlighted along the way� no, I did not write all of the pages linked on the side there and those are definitely not all my sites� but I am tucked away there, in case you wanted to know more but were afraid to ask� not nearly everything, just a lot more� but who has time?� I don't� and if you did have that much time on your hands, who'd want to spend it all reading page after page of details about a stranger far far away?� I mean, this isn't like some popular novel you can reference in your writings or conversations, after all� I am no Harry Potter or Frodo� or Dumbledore or Gandolf, for that matter� just a little of all and a touch of Hermione and Liv Tyler's character� but would it be more intriguing if I used more historic literary references?� a character from Poe, perhaps?� epic or gothic or classic or popular, what can you relate to most?� what will attract your attention (am I writing to a ghost?� or a dream?)� a midsummer night's dream, perhaps� or was that the first of December� anyway, so what if I told you that this entry appears constipated to me?� what would Bob say?� do you care?� do you know?� some are simple, some are complex and some are words I never even heard of� neither has Webster� but it's ok cuz it's fun for me� and since I'm the only one here in my head (except for the others) and the only one here while writing this (looks around) and the only one here most of the time anyway (oh poor me, get over it) and all that jazz, well, if it's fun for me then it's happening, dude� I'll be adding to this entry when I wake up� probably� or maybe I'll be uploading another while you blink� I am way behind, after all� many dates have been missed� and they will be filled in eventually, you know that� well, a few of you do� later
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