glorichant

I think I just inadvertently figured out that an acquaintance of mine is dating X friend of mine. This info is completely intolerable. The fucking weasel, he's inched his way into our circle under the auspices of the lonely guy, but he's just an opportunist. He even stole words directly out of my mouth to get in her good graces. Unbelievable. I'm not your buddy, buddy.

Things I love: the smell of morning air, diesel exhaust, garlic sauteing, driving around at night listening to music, having deep conversations with friends late at night, good cheesecake, trying strange foods, expressing daily emotion through improv on the piano, traveling, flirting, a good kiss, learning random trivia, taking a sharp pencil or blue ball-point pen and drawing random lines and shapes, babbling to myself in the car with animal noises/songs about the other drivers, eating out, going to a musical performance, playing multiplayer games with friends, journaling (obviously?), gadgets and new technology, artificial intelligence, living forever, designing technologies, observing things that others don't see, the look of heat coming off of pavement, sweaters, leather, Tim Burton movies, South Park, Family Guy, stand-up comedy, MST3K, Stanley Kubrick movies, intelligent sci-fi movies, dreaming, lucid dreaming, port wine, Hunter S. Thompson, Johnny Depp movies, the original Star Wars trilogy, Tolkien, Douglas Adams, Neuromancer, Benny Hinn's 'Good Morning, Holy Spirit' and 'the Anointing,' limoncello, sleeping with fans on, sitting by a fire, falling asleep outside on a warm day, coffee and cigarettes, finding something valuable/rare for cheap at a thrift store, collecting video game memorabilia, video game emulators, arcades, cheesy movies, 20000 leagues under the sea, when God speaks to me/touches me, when I feel His presence, getting a revelation from God, the internet, archiving experiences, file-sharing, dark wood furniture preferably foreign in style, metal filigree work/tattoos/or t-shirt prints, really hot baths, a new pair of socks, going to school, the smell of bacon cooking, kombucha, clementine oranges, pasta, not doing what others tell me to do, the sound of words, not worrying about things, strong green tea without sugar or milk, rooibos, Fruit Loops, the smell of the beach, shopping in Asian markets, walking around the mall, reading but not buying books in a bookstore, neutral colors, having my computer in top-working order, lasers, Waffle House, triple-meat triple-cheese Whataburgers, retrogaming, reading penny arcade and xkcd, drinking with friends, playing pool/darts, unique dark beers (ports, stouts) and heffeweizen, zombie movies, walking around with friends, long road trips with friends, walking on the railroad tracks, ancient roman literature/culture/architecture/movies, the latin language, envelope-pushing computer animation, smoked brisket, roast beef, bisque soups, kim chee, sriracha hot sauce, pho soup, beans and rice, breakfast at night, real maple syrup (grade b), spring water, concept cars, the Food network, the Mechanical Universe, Mythbusters, neoclassical architecture, the smell of moist earth, variation in weather (sunny, stormy), thick-blanketed mist at night, running out at night to somewhere secluded and worshipping, singing along with songs in my car, the smell of evergreen trees, snow, the feeling that you have when dark clouds are coming toward you, MREs, Pompeii, spontaneously doing something new, museums, wearing mirrored-shades, warm water and cool breezes or cool water and hot air, bonfires on the beach, people seeing your value, id software games, Nintendo-franchise games, Final Fantasy, Lucasarts' golden era point-and-click adventure games, SCUMMVM, Metal Slugs, Adult Swim games, Ladytron, Depeche Mode, the Beatles, Holst, Bach, Mozart, Carmina Burana, Duo Des Fleurs, Bach Cello Concerto No. 1-Prelude, Mozart's Requiem and Exultate Jubilate, Pachelbel's Canon in D, New World Symphony, Gershwin, Rodrigo's Concerto de Aranjuez - Allegro con Spirito, Bach Inventions and Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, Jon laJoie, Donald Duck in Mathemagic Land, Alice in Wonderland, C.S. Lewis' Christian philosophical writings, TED talks, cloning extinct animals, graphic novels, large beds, reciting the characters on a QWERTY keyboard, being right, daydreaming, looking at really large objects (clouds, mountains, buildings),...

There's more. But again, if I feel like it.

To my unborn children, #1: "Everyone around you will pressure you saying that you need to grow up, when what they really mean is that they're miserable and want you to be too so that they don't feel defective. Don't believe them."

I'm loving school. At first I'll struggle with a text, then I'll gain the author's line of reasoning and reading their text becomes easier. Having to read the linear algebra textbook has forced me to think more methodically, with axioms and proofs. I'm coming to see a larger picture about mathematics. I believe that there is an underlying understanding about math and the universe. Mathemeticians spend large amounts of time working out their ideas, getting small glimpses of one expression of an idea. But that same conclusion can be reached by an infinite number of paths. The theory of perfect forms. The infinite number of positions to look at an object with. Some vantage points are far away, making the details of the object you're focused on faint and distant. Some positions are so close that you can't see the whole object and identify them and so they're useless. But the sweet spot is one in which the whole object is close and in view. It's like solving a system geometrically for the first time. You realize that there's something going on behind the numbers more fundamental and thinly veiled.

Been cracked out on MST3K lately. There's so many of them. It'll keep me busy for a while.

I went Friday night to go hear Dr. Peter Diamandis, Chairman/CEO of the X Prize Foundation, lecture on achieving innovation and breakthroughs. Turns out he's friends with Ray Kurzweil and Aubrey de Gray. Two guys whose work I've been keeping tabs on for several years. Dr. Diamandis said that he'd started the Singularity University with Kurzweil. de Gray is the founder of the Methuselah Foundation, which I believe has a money prize for the first group to double the lifespan of a mouse. (? certainty) They both have fascinating TED talks videos on the web. I've been thinking for the past couple of days if it'd be possible to convince those with "the power" at UWF to invite Kurzweil to speak there. I'll see.

Okay the sum of lately for posterity: trying to catch a mouse. I caught one last week, now I believe there's another. Argh. Finished nearly 20 pages of math homework this week, but surprisingly I'm loving it. Am recording more music and writing one song down as sheet music. Hope to have a complete set of songs for an album by the end of the semester. Working on an NLP AI on paper. It doesn't solve the AI-complete problem, but it would be useful nonetheless. Will gave me a pack of cigarettes today. Bought some Tabasco Soy Sauce, Enteman's doughnut holes, and Golden Grahams. Mmm. Listened to The Mars Volta, !!!, the Spotniks, One Republic, the Beatles, lots o' opera and classical. Watched the Birdcage last night. Need to do laundry, clean, find meaning, and attain a regular sleep schedule but also retain my independence. Friends that have had meaning to me for a while now: Sarah, Jami, Richard, Alba, Brian, Sharon, Aaron, Sandra, McKenzie.

Things I hate: social obligation, stupid people, injustice, willful ignorance and close-mindedness, personal inconvenience, being stilted, being marginalized subtly in conversation, being interrupted in conversation, being ignored in conversation, modern country music, frozen lima beans, self-righteous and judgmental attitudes in Christians, most phrases beginning with "you should" or "why don't you" unless I ask, cunts, dicks, douches, assholes, jerkoffs, schmucks, shitheads, those that are full of shit as well as those whose heads are up their asses, conversation hijackers, one-upers, parasites, copycat cockblockers, sportsfans, prudes, self-interested "cause" advocates, those that reference themselves as reliable sources of information, the destruction of art, popular music, disease, death, loneliness, anyone leveraging power over me unjustly, being lied to, fake internet sites, faultily-designed traffic light signaling patterns, not having flying cars in the year 2010, cigarette taxes, that there are some things that are illegal that shouldn't be while other things that aren't should, that 2% of the world's population has most of the wealth, that XBox 360 games are $60.00 (really? there's no reason for that.), that my 360 red-ringed OOW recently (argh!0), that all of the cute girls seem to be whores, that I can't see what the fuck they're doing with that guy, that I haven't talked to an older person in a while, corporations manufacturing products that are designed to break, commercials (except for an occasional), most indie rock (I realized something today...Indie rock isn't indie anymore you fucking self-righteous tards. I can buy your individuality at any store in the mall.), most sentences that begin with "I've got a game idea for ya...", looks of contempt or disdain at my ideas, people that drive cars with bumper stickers/sportsteam flags/flames/testicles hanging from the tow-hitch/...in general any sort of gaudy, non-unique, store-bought ejaculation of an opinion thrown in my face, including t-shirts with sayings on them and clothing obviously designed to show off the brand names logo in hopes to impress people, most Southern accents, people that don't understand video games, picky eaters, old women that anthropomorphize their animals, controlling girlfriends/wives/bosses/friends/family and pretty much anyone else that does that (Did I mention that I really hate that?), nasaly singing, people who still use checkbooks, that the Euro is worth more than the dollar, talking to tech support or customer service in fucking Asia, impatient people, people that don't discipline their kids, bad customer service, the rat race, social pressure to grow up, people that believe in conspiracy theories, people that blame you for their own stupidity, people that believe anything they read in print or are told, racism, censorship, not being understood, holiday products for valentine's day/secretary's day/labor day/veteran's day/mother's day/father's day (We've all got birthdays. If you can't sum up your appreciation for someone's existence on their birthday, you suck at life.), spiders, cockroaches and mice in my house, prime time television except for Lost, auctions for digital goods in MMORPGs, our city governments structure, people pushing their moral code on me to try to make me feel guilty about something, botflies, bowl fever, VX gas, clandestine HIV needle injectors, record companies, extreme heat, extreme cold, smoking a cigarette and having the smoke get in your eyes, those people that try to get your attention in the mall, feeling obligated to acknowledge the existence of people that you pass by in public, service fees, synchronous media, proprietary technology, killer dogs, dictatorships, socialism and oppression, teetotalers unless they're recovering alcoholics, what America has done to the physical country with trash and commercial strips, rednecks, nosy people, noisy neighbors, double-parkers, incorrectly parked cars, pulling over for funerals in the South, being scammed, bars that charge a cover fee, beach-themed house decorations, Draconian managers,...

There's probably a lot more, I'm just going to call it quits for now. Things I love or like? If and when I feel like it.

My God. I don't know how to explain this. I don't think that I can explain the thoughts, feelings, the horror of what I was thinking the night before last...Of course the pebbles in the concrete were showing me an animation. I've not wanted to believe in the possibility, but...maybe it was the culmination of my negative thought processes for the past several years.

I was sitting on the back porch with Sarah while she threw the ball to her dogs. Time slowed down, as it usually does. I remember becoming very aware of my body, of being in it. I could feel my heartbeat. I was shivering a little, that tightness that comes over your muscles, because it was cold outside. But it felt like a reaction rather than something that was happening to me. The thoughts gripped me, What am I? Look at me. I'm an advanced blob of protoplasm. Nothing more than matter with a heartbeat. Everything that had ever meant something to me was nothing more than a construct generated by my species. The economy, love, religion, goals, worry. Just what the fuck am I? Reading these words, even with a modicum of imagination that a reader brings with him, is completely insufficient to place you into where I was. Throughout the day, the horrifying feelings of meaninglessness and of being trapped in my body would come back as echoes. Still, there is no way that you could see what I mean unless the same fear gripped you. Everything, my childhood memories, the love of my parents, the clothes that I was wearing, the government and history, all of it, was a construction by intelligences and had no meaning. I was in my body, fearful, moving through time, a machine that was part of a greater whole of something called life that only continued by its survival instincts, the equivalent of which in our human intelligence expressed itself in a desire for eternity through religion or sex by continuing on the line of aggregated eukaryotic cells all of which were so volatile, so subject to uncontrollable events. My heartbeat. I can remember that. I felt like the apes on Planet of the Apes that made God in their image. Who's to say that we haven't done the same? I felt like I created God out of my fear of death. I felt that familial love is nothing more than an isolated experience to keep viable groups of cells alive, a reason to continue on, because the relation between my cells was close, as close as my own cells were to each other. I believed that it was a remnant of earlier, more primitive, constructs, all existing to keep cells alive. All emotions could be shown to have been derived from this primal instinct to continue on. I couldn't see my spirit, or God's, or anything other than the matter around me. I felt doomed to die someday. That Sarah and I were only fooling ourselves with laughter and companionship and "fun" to keep our minds away from the problem of our own existence. What was our existence? What did it matter?...I just remember being deathly afraid of my own self, of there being this horror associated with my own volatile being, of everything that I've known being a lie fabricated to keep some lower order going on, that nothing really had any meaning, even intelligence, even my personal goals and even the universe itself. I felt like an accident of matter that somehow got the impetus to continue on billions of years ago. I lived through my parents, and they through their parents, all the way back to some goop, meaningless goop, that happened for no purpose, no reason at all...If you could somehow remove all skepticism and distance that you create when reading something from yourself and believe yourself to be a trick of matter, consciousness doesn't really exist, your body is an accident, God is a construct, everything that you know or cared about it both inconsequential and meaningless, then you'll know what was going through my mind. I knew that "reality" would set back in and then I wouldn't think like this anymore, but I also knew that ideas carry over and that you can't separate experiences or ever forget things. To know what I would remember and take with myself, I couldn't say...

Here's what I actually wrote during the time:

I am really freaked out right now. I've realized what I am, or at least, what I'm actually conscious of. People aren't real. Constructs. Humans are constructs. What do any of these words actually mean? Everthing is musical, its diving into primordeal illusions that I've just realized were present in all of us at a more fundamental level. Why do I care? It is pain to my being. The only thing I know. I don't desire to die. Why would I? I'm secretly afraid of dying. What will I be? I don't remember anything before birth. So why do I care what I am, any length of time. We're so weird. A priori communicating machines evolved from something. Why do we despair of the continuance of our existence? It is irrelevant. I have teeth. Eyes. I smile and comb my hair. I pretend to watch a movie while I type this song. Wad. Fuck, fuckity, fuck fuck fuck. These are constructs in our existence that we all have.

To acurately describe my existence. Does it have a reson? We're built to ask questions to learn, in every one of our behaviors. The loop goes overdrive. Is it rude to continue. I'm just a bag of flesh held up with bones pushing against gravity filled with blood and we're rotating on a something. We can come up with the concept of concept. So many thoughts. We reach out with our brains in a map over the real world that constantly remind us of boundaries. It is an awareness. How weird we are. God are you there or something that I made up. It's not healthy to think like this. It goes with people to end their existence before they if they matter can find easement to their existence. I have a heart. A physical beating heart. Everything in Earth is organic and supportive of life. I can see the sexual expression of everything in conversation. Movies are too musical in their speech. I can see all elements in a scene. You can't take it seriously. Human speech conveys ideas smaller base simulations of meaningless survivable systems. We're carbon based, so our world was a carbon world. Some elements were more prevalent. What are we? What are my fears? Why does one want to kill another? We are all the same constructs of pleasant imagery. Black and white. The number 4...it's everywhere like the fantastic 4...what the fuck is this movie? Is it for real? Things like that don't happen. We're music through time. Why do we want to continue? Are benefiting from your existence and not benefiting from them different?

Different still is.
I still can't take any human intereaction seriously. It seems pointless as does the not seeming. It's too musical. She has a nice body though. That seems to have meaning. That's how I, this construct of meaninglessness that found out that it was, wants union with another. That's what all of myself years for, every individural part of myself together, are dissatified with. "Heathers": He's smoking, priest is gay. My God I can't take this movie seriously. Is this what we look like. What's it sound like without music? Bags of bones pummeling bags of bones. My hunger or needs are unquantifiable. Appetites are always there just like the Bible says. My God I love a kiss. This makes me sensually oriented. The fulfillment of my desires is the closing of my appetites my no longer need to attain. To rise above the horde and be the whole. I still can't take this movie seriously. Police don't act like that. This cheesy music. Why does a movie have music? It's not real. I can see their every behavior for what it is. My heart beats, if it doesn't beep then I'm not.

Two posts in one night-- mm, hmm. I remembered the Studio Ghibli film Tales from Earthsea. I'm not sure if it's gotten an American release, but it's at least downloadable on torrent if there isn't. There's a lot of spiritual truth in it, but there's one scene that sticks out. The boy is taken by slave traders and is being carted off in the middle of the night with a lot of others they've captured. The wizard comes after them on the road at night and uses magic to release all of their shackles. The boy begins to walk off with the wizard but stops and says that the others need to be rescued too. The wizard replies that he's already freed them, but they're so used to being enslaved that they've lost hope. They think that if they escape they'll only be captured again, so they stay in the cart with their heads down. That has been my condition. I think that it's common, because it's the same with someone else I know.

I picked up an old notebook of mine out of my car today to chill at Starbucks and write some things down. It has those pockets with small stacks of random notes about story ideas and religion tucked away in it. I found some more note cards that I had written scripture onto from that time in my life when I would stick them on the bathroom mirror. Total, I probably had a good forty of them. A couple of months ago I had begun to stick them to the back of my bedroom door with masking tape with the idea that closing the door to my room would allow me to see these cards alone and without distraction. They were the most meaningful scriptures to me, the ones that God had used to say something to me since I'd known Him. Over the past five years, I have been nearly frantic and caught in logical absurdities in my approach to freedom in Jesus, thinking that I had to create some lattice of deductions in the forefront of my mind so that I could know the truth and be free. It seemed that because I couldn't visualize more than around seven objects at once, that I couldn't hold the cross-referencing truths of scripture in my mind long enough without breaking concentration to beat back the dismalness in life. I realize that this sounds absurd, but it's been my reality. So looking at these scriptures on my door, everything that God had used to speak to me in the past, I could see that it wasn't necessary to have another moment of salvation, a duplication of an event the significance of which hasn't been lost just because I thought it did. If I take anything away from the first read over, it is that Satan is a bluff and a liar. A bluff. And that I have been given authority over all the powers of darkness. I felt some relief reading that, like I needed someone else to verify what I already knew. I suppose that I did need that. I even remember having the thought over and over that the darkness would overtake me again if I ever escaped. That I wasn't strong enough to beat back evil in my mind. That because of what I had thought that it would take years for me to get better. That had become true, but I believe that was because I let it be that way. He's a liar, specifically a bluff. He doesn't have that kind of power over me. Only because I believed him, in effect giving him the power, did he have it. That's the jedi mind trick, the zen realization or simple truth that I beat myself over the head with for years. I'm tired of thinking in terms of eventuality Christianity, as if my life is a series of horrible experiences peppered with the momentary illusion of peace. It isn't necessary to live that way. You don't have to. I thought before, "So Satan doesn't have any authority. I've got to get it back somehow." No. You supposedly get it back by realizing that you've had it all along--the devil never really had it. He lied. He said he had it and that you have to get it back somehow. Bullshit. You have the power in Jesus. It's not true because you believe it. It's true already and that's why you should believe it.

There were some large girls stuck in a vat of cheese, somehow they were getting bigger. They had been driving down a dirt road near a cliffside near the beach in a school bus. Not many people came by that way. Time was running out for them, soon they would drown. They had used the golden artifacts wrongly and now they were paying for it. A short round man, dressed in a vest and khakis ran up to the bus and took a bag.

I was in a forest clearing, open aired but like a church auditorium. On the row of trees that would be behind the stage a man in a dirty mechanized robot suit burst out. He was wearing a pointed bird's beak mask and had long dirty locks of hair. He saw us and receded into the dark jungle backwards, like a scared spider getting ready for a more opportune trap.

I went to the warehouse and grabbed all kinds of cereals. A woman came to me, beautiful and sophisticated but young. She showed me the gold artifacts. It was amazing that they were still together after 6000 years. I laid down the beetle first, then the medallion on top of it, the eagle, and the crab. They sparkled then disappeared. A small gold coin appeared on the table. There were three other coins, two gold one silver. I stacked the two gold coins then the silver on top. They sparkled and disappeared. Another gold coin appeared, and I stacked it with the last gold coin.

In my front yard were nearly a hundred men and women. They were being launched into the sky, sprouting wings, and would disappear with a flash in the air. I began riding with one guy in a vehicle down a dirt road. The vehicle ahead was a sleek covered SUV the back was open and had restraining flaps to keep water out. He said that it was a submarine vehicle. It could travel fast enough to keep water from coming inside. It would attach with other vehicles and expand.

He explained to me that the magic of the gold artifacts was ancient technology. All of our world's religions came from an ancient problem between his race and another. The rituals in each religion were handed down as a way of preserving the method of operation for their technology, which had been scattered over time and housed in churches, temples, mosques, and shrines in the form of relics.

My mother and father came to the three of us with a couple of our friends. They brought hot tea and calamansi and clotted cream. This was before dinner. Our friends when my parents left didn't like this strange tea. When I went to bed, an older black man came and placed his hand on my head and told me a story that played out in shadows on the wall. The race that bound his placed a spider on each of them and threw them off of a cliff. They were close to returning but they needed the artifacts. He removed his hand and began to walk away. I asked him quickly, "What were your people called?" He said "the Necrati" and walked away.

-Stealing the artifacts from the bus.
-Washington D.C in the year 3548. Bricked up white house. Simulant of Abraham Lincoln.

The supposed withholding of His love is nothing more than my coming to terms with me wanting to love Him, because He is the perfect gentleman and would never force Himself upon me.

I cannot fear that I'll fall again and remove myself from the hope of escape from the darkest place because I might go there again. That will be a choice, and it's a choice to stay. The choice to leave is the only one that I have power over right now, and I am strong enough in God through Jesus to resist the choice to return in the future. It was a bluff, a logical mistake on my part, to give up my life for a living death. It was an illusion of bondage and I knew it and was not so helpless that I couldn't see it. I did. I tied my life and joy into hopes of desire consummated in specific instances and gave up the idea of love and happiness and meaning in this life because of the loss or unfulfillment of those specific things. But I will always believe in love and have hope for the mysterious, magical, fantastic complete fulfillment of desire, good things given to us by God, in this life and not just in the next. A loss is an illusion, for God loses nothing. I will not live in fear of loss, the fear will make you lose more than it's object. No, those worlds that I long for are this world, and the life that I have been afraid of living because it was not the life that I thought was best is this life that I died in wanting, but now by choice it will live again for me to live it. I am a follower of Christ, whatever that means, or rather, whatever it winds up meaning. And I love Him, and He knows it. And I know that He knows it. I won't pull apart my happiness by deconstructing my a priori interpretations on God's sincerity and the truth of my experiences in His love. I know that I knew His touch and kisses and words and I know the purity of His embraces. He is and will always be with me, though I don't feel Him. I will not doubt Him and His work in me. There is more to come. Second acts have scared me, new knowledge and it's usefulness escaped my grasp, but I stuffed myself with it anyway, thinking that it would make me worthy of life and the things that I desired. Never attaining, always wanting, always falling short. But I am enough. It is potential and not kinetic life that is true life. It looks forward to the future rather than being content with what it has attained. I am and will always be a work of my Father's hands, enough for the life that He has for me. I won't second-guess hope, hope of fulfilled desire, the deepest parts of me, what everyone desires and few admit to and those who believe and live by moving to seek it find it.

Chiauloo aka amanta teel eeph rikamoontan tal ee tolevi.

I said it once already. Again. There's a lot to happy about. I'm staying in Pensacola, going to get a job, finish my B.S. somehow, hopefully at UWF. I love my friends. I'm near my family. And it's that time of year that I love, where it causes you to stay in one place and think. This is the time of year that I met God and there's so many good memories about it that it makes me feel close to him all over again. I'm slightly anxious about finding a job, but at the same time, I'm not worried. I know that this is the plan, and that brings me great relief. I applied at ClearWire for a technical support position for which I believe that I'm a shoe-in. My experience, degree, and personal interests all mesh into what they're looking for. I know it's not a "job" job but it should bring in the dough for what I need and is more in the direction of what my career goals are than other readily available ones.

I believe Sharon's my best friend. She knows more about me than anyone else does. It's good to be known. It's what I always want in friendship. Anything less is less than the best.

This is my internet. My computer. My thoughts, home, passions, city, future, desires, expressions. If you call me out, saying I'm illogical, it's probably your defense mechanism against something that you don't understand. Ridiculing or critiquing my personal thoughts, beliefs, behaviors, interests shows that you're afraid of something different than yourself.

I see that I'm wanting to build again. There's no sword hanging or obligations to make others happy. Just me and my life.

Channeling the good doctor, I hope he's in heaven. Swap, freak out, will show the better half of experience

So fucking frustrated. Just found out that my loan didn't process through PNCBank because I'm not fucking working in the program at Full Sail. It's so fucking ridiculous. I've tried three, none of them have come through. There you go. No more Full Sail. I'm stuck in Pensacola going to UWF and getting another retail, customer service, food service job or some shit. Argh. I hate that...

Chemical interactions with our bodies is like programming against the inherent code of an AI. A necessary evil?

Again,Im fine in the daytime.Its right before sleep or when I wake up that bothers me.Maybe the daytime is painted I just cant see it.

Yup. To my faithful, there you go. It's what you would've expected. But to those that do not know, jeez, I would've hoped for more from those who didn't. I wouldn't give, I wouldn't care from those who didn't or couldn't. This is the wake-up call. There are some things worth fighting over or waiting to give in wholeness. I do not. I can not. But, for the one who is worthy, recognize the gift in it's entirety. Know what it is that you hold and don't let it fall to the ground. Carry it with respect, wait for it, because the culmination, the actualization of the gift is worth it. If you can meet it in the same place where it is given, you'll find something of value. Identify the antique. Appraise the hidden treasure and you'll see something that you didn't before. Something that will become more than that which was given, something worth fighting for. Otherwise, you're living in a fantasy of ultimate price and zero return. Something that has no value. Alchemists. You value urine thinking you can turn it into gold, but when gold is given, you think it's a trinket. A style. Something for the moment. You need an experts opinion but you don't take any counsel. It's your loss. It's your misconception. And another will find it and value it and come to use the usefulness of the object that you couldn't see. Blind. Foolish. And poor. This isn't bitterness; it's reality. Who is worthy? Someone I haven't seen. Someone else.

Tell me something good, this is not that but its close. Stasis will make you think and find what's worth worrying about.

Tired. Broke my good sleeping stuff. Let Brian in this morning. He went to the wrong building door because he was tired and a little drunk. Wal-mart with a broken ankle this morning. Coke Zero. Whataburger. Carried groceries upstairs. Coffee with Sharon. Got some shit dealt with on the phone. Panera Bread for lunch. Got X-rays and had medical documentation faxed to orthopaedic doctor. Napped. Coffee again. Hopjacks. Drinks. Talks. Met an Anna and Rachel tonight. Had a convo with B???? about Pensacola's problems as a city. Watched Superbad. There you have it. October 22nd.