Familiar Theme

All right, I'm getting sick about my familiar themes, but that doesn't mean I'm going to do anything about it right now. One of the few things in my life that gets me going enough to post about it is the Annoying Customer. These people consist of middle to upper aged women.

Ok, sure, they're the customer and I'm the one working here, and so I should be kind and helpful and all that, and I am, to a point. But these older women abuse it. It literally makes me sick to my stomach how grossly different they are than I. It matters to me if I feel like I'm wasting someone's time and probably because I get quite upset when someone's wasting mine. By not caring about the person you are talking to, you can reap many benefits. You can absorb yourself in your own thoughts, your own self. This is a desirable thing that I can rarely experience - and is probably a big reason for my having this blog. Until I build up a strong friendship with somebody, I stay very sensitive to their mood. Then again, I often allow myself to gauge people's moods negatively when if fact they may have still been interested. This is because of negative personality traits.

But anyway, that's going way into it. The point is that these women need you to be there to hear their voice. If it does ever register to them or even matter to them that you terribly don't care, they'll think that they can buy some time by turning their attention away from their descriptions of that pretty ethan allen, i said ethan allen valance that they just got 40% off and that their sister would have died to have had, in fact she was just looking at the exact same one but went another way and all because of the price, to ask me a question about a particular piece of furniture we actaully had in the store, or rather they'll usually just look anywhere, at anything and say, 'oh that's a nice piece!'

Anyway, it feels perverted, their extreme lack of consideration. Many times it seems they come into the store only for conversation. They just like to look around and exclaim things. So many of them talk about the guilt they feel. 'Oh my gosh! I really don't need anything, but here I am buying it' or the older women say, invariably, 'I need this like a hole in the head.' Seriously, I've heard that one fifty times. And then I imagine they'll go home to their husbands who are sitting on the couch, minding their own business and not everybody else's, and the I can just see the women guilting their husbands into doing things for them because they just sat at home all day while the woman got to do exactly what she wanted but for some reason it sounds like she did things because she can say that she went and bought curtains at JC Penny's and that her feet hurt because she went searching all over Altoona to find a gift for her son-in-law.

Well, I'm just getting completely carried away, but some of these women really are annoying as hell.

At least you had the option to stop reading.

seriously, this guy's great

from waitzkin's account on winning the Tai Chi Chuan World Championships

Now I’m sinking on my attacks, playing with feints, tight combinations and misdirection. I’m using his skill against him. I noticed that if I fake inside, without even moving, he feels it and responds. He is incredibly sensitive to intention, so I start unbalancing him with invisible attacks that I pulse into but don’t actually manifest physically. I’m getting in his head. He feels it and gets aggressive, attacks hard and blasts me away. But now I’ve got him attacking, and I know I have a deeper root. I start receiving his blow and bouncing him off. Win a bunch of points. Then I make the mistake of coming in hard and he throws me on the floor—2 points. If I lower the sophistication of my game a hair, he destroys me. He slips into a zone and attacks hard.

****************************************

i especially like the idea of being sensitive to intention. to be able to fake somebody out completely you really have to be there in the moment. you can't fake left if your intentions are to fake left and then go right. you have to actually believe that you are going to go left. somewhere deep in your head you have to have the intention to go right after faking left but then that intention has to disappear, it can't be conscious, you must trust that when the time comes you'll remember. the other benefit this has, and i was thinking driving with a basketball, but now thinking hitting holes as a running back, is a better sense of patience. maybe when you fake left, if you are presently intending to go left, maybe he has left left open and now you can go left. had you planned to fake left go right, nothing would have happened.

you can liken this to lying as well. you must believe what you say.* in the back of your mind you are planning to change your mood, but first you must forget that and trust that you will remember it when the time comes. so you must have a lot of trust to lie well, i guess is what i'm saying, heh.

*i can lie perfectly if there is nothing behind my lie, if there's no pressure. if i have no reason to lie, then my conscience doesn't inhibit me like if i try to lie in order to hide something important. i always lie to my mother for fun, and then come clean again right away. but it's just the same concept of intention.

Josh Waitzkin

wow, i imagined this guy to look more like a dork. not a lot like one, but less like this guy who looks like a nyc street hustler/The Matrix star.

this guy has been teaching me chess for the last few months and although it's been fun learning chess, it's been just as interesting learning about this josh waitzkin. his explanations of things tells a lot about him. and i like everything i've learned. but then he also gives courses in the psychology of chess, the downward spiral and transitional phases, etc. that relate chess to life, too, and talks all about his experiences with philosophy and eastern religions and there are essays that he writes that i read that are all part of the xbox 'game.' i admire this guy a lot.

but anyway, getting from average to good at chess is much like scoring average to genius on an IQ test. you just have to know what to look for.

it feels like cheating, and takes away the sense of pride you imagined you'd have if you ever got or scored that much better. there's little pride to get out of learning and having knowledge. deducing and anticipating and relating and assuming. when you are right in these things - then you can smile to yourself.

and hard work too i guess. don't forget about hard work i guess.

probably i should be talking in the first person

it's funny that i've never given a second thought to it when my aspirations change. i simply have new wishes. all that seemed to matter a few months ago is replaced now. what i couldn't see myself not doing is now not being done. my transitional phases seems lightening fast. everything is so much better. dreams are better. what couldn't occur to me before constantly occurs to me now. thoughts about doing. doing things about thoughts. when you don't do anything there's lots more to think about.

but a song from rufus wainwright says something like, 'thank you for this bitter knowledge, it makes you hard but it was worth it.'

being hard isn't worth it. it's pathetic. but the realization of that is what's worth it. if life is cyclical, that's the only part of my life that i ever wouldn't want to repeat. it's tough, though, to accept that all you've learned is that you were wrong. it's tough to accept that very little good came from it. it's tough that a part of life is the wasting of it. especially when you rationalize it all along the way, assuring yourself that, although it doesn't seem like it, you're getting somewhere with what you're doing. sometimes it isn't the right thing to do - to console yourself. to accept failure.

what a magickal world it is - denial. that world isn't ruled by the physical laws. you get to make up what's right and wrong.

AN OLD LADY entered the store.

Hello.

Hi. I haven't been in in a while. Everything looks new.

It probably is.

I had a broken back. I fell in my room and there wasn't even anything on the floor. I think the doctor's had me too medicated for my health.

Oh. (ending the conversation)

This is Indisputable

Everybody's starting to seem so much bigger to me. i'm beginning to understand equations like when A increases i can expect B to increase (or to happen or to change, etc.). these variables correspond to my physical actions, mental patterns, ways of thought, immediate perspectives, mood, vulnerability/influencability, etc., etc. i suppose i could throw an X in and it could mean, vaguely, happiness. and then i guess i could adjust the variables' wording so that an increase in all variables would mean an increase in happiness. and then i would have to give sublabels to all variables that don't necessarily relate to happiness but which change with those that do.

Basically, i'm just looking for which variables help increase X the most. then, it's interesting to note how increase in those variables, in turn, effect other (offspring) variables. like, people look larger to me.

(maybe note that the more serious i act, the more serious i am not. when i act with certainty, it's usually just an act, and if you look, there's humour behind my eyes.

kind of like when you ask me for some of my M&M's and i vehemently say no and then dump the rest of the bag in my mouth, and then a few minutes later you open your bag of Skittles and i ask you wholeheartedly if, 'couldn't i get some?' my favorite response of yours, at that point, would be to laugh hard and then finish them off instantly. then we could laugh together. that's what i really wanted you to do when i asked if i could get some.


hmm, i would've taken some skittles though. i guess that's my second favorite response. but my least favorite would be if you got actually angry and yelled, 'fuck you! you didn't give me any of your M&M's.' the latter is usually the most common response, though, and then i usually laugh and say, 'yeah, no shit,' wishing things had gone better.

and he goes on and on with all this

ah, boredom. my replacement of insanity. when you feel insane there is not a doubt in your mind that you would choose boredom if you could. but after you've been bored for enough days...

new paragraph.

you don't know you're going insane. it doesn't start out that way. your mind starts to imagine patterns everywhere. your brain, once a solid oval of connected signals, begins shooting out pathways that more resemble the ends of tree branches. and the worst of it is that your brain begins to get used to following those paths that strike out far but never cross over another path. things get hazy. your once normal, vibrant pathways begin to shrink in importance and you don't know if eating lunch is more important than going to work.

but boredom. you look around with that look on your fist like it wants to punch the monitor in the mouth. you walk around an empty store snarling at rocking chairs and comtemplate leaning against the wall in order to stand on your head. the phone rings and you're fancy polite, then you hang up finishing your cordial, 'see you later,' with a 'you mother fucker,' that they don't hear. you start to wonder if this is how it started before, back then.

craziness is still just a closed, unlocked door or two away in my mind. i glimpse what it was like from time to time and for an awkward second consider looking back through the keyhole. those seconds have been getting fewer and the glimpses are occuring less often. that is one of many ways that i know i'm getting better.

now, after some time, i'm realizing that i certainly was never badly depressed. it makes much more sense to say that i was going crazy. i never for a second despaired for my future. i wouldn't even call it faith i had such a strong knowledge that i would get better. but at the time i had no boundaries at all. i looked at things and they'd never change. but everytime i looked i'd look differently. everytime i looked at them, i changed. i had a thousand perspectives and every few seconds a wheel would spin and my stance would change.

ah, partial insanity, the most important experience of my life. how boring.

(()) stretching

blow away you house of leaves
home is no longer a respite
everywhere you see purple flowers grow
reminds you, and that is sadness

grow tall you sunny creature
this world is where you shall smile
purple flowers your decisions will make
may you sing whatever you wish

sauce and spices and a room of laughter
are cold ghosts in shaded gray
streets black and wet for you to lay
and read your tombstone in the stars

he only saw the best in life

eat well my son and wear your comfortable slippers
there's a day ahead that will stretch through the years
and bind you to your decisions for the sake of binding
and handcuff you to your loves

and make end what must end

just listen and change your black in gray
just because you'll regret it doesn't mean you shouldn't do it

yeah, sure, ok, maybe before i said

(think abe cernicks)

that i was able to live well in the present moment. but fuck that. ok, here's what i'm thinking. i like to believe that i, at least, people in general, possibly, ride a wave. i like to think my wave is quite rediculous in its up and downs. yeah, sure, ok, maybe before i said that i was able to live well in the present moment. but at the same time i believe that i, as me, live in the present moment less than anyone, too. i can walk around in a daze more than anyone, noticing nothing external. oh, i guess i did see that box that i had to move to get into the house. but, heh, i didn't even realize i had to move it. i was just on my way inside, and there was this box in my way that i had to move, and so did so mindlessly, on my way to inside towards the phone or chess or my room etc. i fucking moved that box and didn't even think twice about it. or so it would go.

one, two, three, four pounders and more and it leads me right to jackson, so sayeth sufjan. very much liking that. my mother likes the music i like. is that cool? sufjan, elliot smith, flaming lips, some of bright eyes, jack johnson and on sort of. i have the greatest mother in the fucking world and i feel sorry for the rest of you. (not joking) and not just because of the music thing. she is too good, in fact, that i need to ignore that she's there to try to get on with my life.

i've often felt that if my family could all just die then i could get on with my life. of course that sounds like shit but it would be the worst thing in the world and so then everything else couldn't really affect me. screw embarrassment or failure, i'd fucking slam shit. dominate, right doug. but yet i'm held in perpetual check. so i just move pawns. i won't sacrafice my queen even if it means victory later. i'll die with her by my side. i'll lose, but i can't sacrafice it, the state. choose someone else to solve your oil problems.

do i matter more than us? to a certain degree. you'd have some real explaining to do to convince me otherwise.

3:47pm

so 'we' as a whole consider what's right? think if you do something 'wrong' you have to come up with excuses, right? if you do something considered 'right,' what? you're a good child, go right on ahead without thinking and just following the rules. hey, why not, even drink some beer, that'll keep ya edgy.

not that i don't agree with most of what's 'right' and what's 'wrong.' i mean, i don't want to be a serial killer. but seeing as how i'm not 'cut-out' to tackle the 'major issues,' i spend time looking at what 'we' consider 'right' and 'wrong' in less profound circumstances.

take for example, communication. i understand that generally this is more culturally defined, and especially sub-culturally, whereby i mean 'central pennsylvania' vs. 'pittsburgh area,' even vs. 'The South.' or of course, USA vs ENG. etc. what became known as 'right' and 'wrong' ways of communication came about because of reasons that don't really mean anything to 'us' now. anyway, what's interesting about all this is that we can watch 'language' and 'communication' evolve as we grow older. as our generation becomes more dominant, what 'we' thought mattered becomes what america thinks matters (in those less profound ways, i.e. entertainment, ways of interacting, what's considered interesting or intelligent). hmm, maybe it's more practical to pander to your own generation. maybe it's more practical to be practical, heh.

on now to other blah

i hate being restricted by public opinion. i do everything i possibly can to rebel against it but still 'fit in.'

another thing. i hear people say about comfort breeds complacency. as soon as i hear anyone say anything i start looking to prove the opposite. nothing different here. i'm thinking, for me, that the more comfortable i am the more i flourish. as soon as there's a hint of stress i lock down in a way. i was uncomfortable with what college expected from me and so i slowly recessed deeper and deeper into the comfort of my mind. i may have looked comfortable because comfort is the most important thing to me for my happiness. it might make me content but not complacent by any means. the more comfortable i am the more risks i take because i can always sink back down into the happiness of my daily routine.

come on feel the illinoise

a light nap

so he stopped wondering and saw that the full moon made the night bright but that it also illuminated the thick fog in front of his face which made it nearly impossible to see. it's always hard to get started, he thought. it occured to him that he was already moving, however, and so he decided that he would just be content with that. once this was decided, all his thoughts fell into place accordingly. the judgement of the proper placement of each of his feet or the correct level of depth for each breath no longer became his concern. he was walking through a fog and that was just good enough for him.

*narrator chuckles* but then, wouldn't you know it, he came upon another being. she was already talking but for a moment he struggled to try to find the right thing to say. luckily for him, his previous way of thought had embedded itself just deeply enough in his self that he thought to just have patience and wait and see if what the woman was saying would perhaps give him a clue as to what he should say. how brilliant! he realized, and he began to listen to her and a smile came across his face. calmly, he looked at her and it didn't take him long to notice that she was holding a baby and that she was saying that the baby was cold.

oh! how much more proper now he saw was it for him to offer some help instead of how he might have started out before, had he struggled to say the right thing, which might have been something like, 'who are you,' or 'why are you here?'

hey, listen to this shit, Sis

yeah, so, i had a curse placed on me the other night. well, actually, it might have been in the day time even, i don't know. actually, who the hell knows how long ago or for what reason, but things look grim.

nothing's happened yet physically. well, stuff might be happening, i keep thinking i'm seeing things changing: moles appearing or growing, an odd ache in my teeth, the recession of my fingernails, but i'm pretty sure i'm imagining it.

mentally's a little different story. sure, i may be imagining that, too, but that's the thing with the mind. even if you are just imagining it, it's still taking effect. so i've been getting a little paranoid, rightly so. yes, properly paranoid.

oh, so here's how i found out that i'm cursed. even by the end you probably won't believe me, but i'd never believe any of the shit you ever say, so i don't care at all what you say back. here's how i know i'm cursed: i had a dream about it. a whole lot of dream shit went on at first, swirling scenes and spoken words taking me from one metaphor to another. but then there was this sound of maybe like a windup toy going from highpitched/fast to slower/lower. like the township's fire alarm but only from the highest note to the lowest. the noise went away or faded into the darkness as some off-beat drumming in the background. i was just standing in the pitch-black on some kind of platform. then i saw a light. i looked closer, real close at it and it started to grow, or come toward me or i was going towards it. the light turned into a red cape or something and it sped up and before i knew it there was this giant genie-like witch looming in front of me, her lower body fading away into a mist. i cowered back a bit (i mean, of course), and i looked up at her. she wasn't looking at me. she was looking off into the distance and everything had frozen, her fingernails clawing towards her neck, her teeth bared. she was like a 3D picture.

i don't remember if that was in the middle of the night or right before i woke up. i know that you've been thinking that i've been going crazy for a long time, but i swear this happened to me last night. i swear this happened. when i woke up this phrase wouldn't stop running through my head. maybe it was going backwards or maybe it was going to fast but i couldn't tell what the words were saying. i was already late for work again, so even though i was creeped out a bit i was albe to ignore the constant droning pretty easily. it was almost just like a headache or a ringing in my ears. it continued through a shower and breakfast and the drive to work. i almost even forgot about it by the time i got there but as soon as i tried to talk to anybody it would get really loud and i'd wince and make a face that made it understandable to people when i lied and said i just had a toothache.

later in the day i started being able to work out more of the voice. i couldn't tell what was being said but i could tell it was a deeper voice. a middle aged man or a very old lady. i just kept trying to avoid everyone all day but my fucking boss kept getting on me about how i was always late. i've told you that i've sincerely wanted to kill him right? yeah, today, obviously, especially. i kept trying to be apologetic, saying, 'yeah, i know i'm on my last straw,' or whatever the fuck, but i couldn't do it with as much kiss-ass fakeness as usual and so he wouldn't leave me alone. the third time he came in my office i just got up and told him i was going to throw up and ran past him. hah, it worked so well i can't believe i've never done that before. i guess you really have to be in some real pain, not just hungover, to actually have the push to do something like that.

but anyway, yeah, i know you hate it when i talk about work and all that, but listen, when i went out onto the streets the voice started to really slow down. i could clearly tell the cadence of what was being said and it almost sounded like english. i was so concentrated on the voice that i didn't realize where i was walking. i was just walking. straight. i ended up down by Green Mart on 18th. fuckin all the bums down there. i fuckin almost tripped over this one. he didn't even have a can or his hat held out, he just fuckin was reachin out like he was trying to grab my leg or somthing. that's what sort of startled me out of my stupor-type daze. everything down there's all creepy and run-down and it started to get cold with the wind picking up and the clouds blowing in. i turned up towards Adams thinking it was more the way back towards civilization but it just seemed even more ghetto. i was having a shitty day, right?

so, but then i saw this old brick building with balloons and ribbons and shit like it was some grand ole opening, right? i crossed the street to see what was going on. there was a local radio station there and they were giving out hot dogs and orange soda. it turned out to be this new internet cafe. i was asking the guy that handed me a hot dog and he told me it was just the beginning of some renovations for the entire block. i don't know, mayor elections coming up or something, right? so i went inside and it was all super modern silver and black and filled with college-type students already. it was weird because there was no one on the streets coming in. it was like just the right amount of people had come to fill it up and nobody else even knew about it. but anyway, there was this computer open in the corner. fuckin mac. heh, yeah, sure i might like them more, eventually, but until i get used to it.

so i started to try to get to my gmail account and, weird, this is where it got really weird, these weird webpages started coming up and everything i was typing in like, i'd type and 'a' but i'd get an '*' but it wasn't an '*' it was some symbol that wasn't even on the keyboard. i would have been even more freaked out but my head started hurting so much and the voice by now seemed to be chanting in my head it was so loud. so i just kept trying to get to my gmail account, like it was just what i was doing as an afterthought while what i was really doing was dealing with the pain in my head.

i strained to look up at the monitor as if it was against my will to not look at my hands typing and i saw that i had never hit enter; i'd just kept typing hundreds and hundreds of characters into the address bar. i started to get fuckin light-headed then and the chanting got louder and fucking louder and the monitor began to fade in and out and i thought i was going to fall down out of the chair and i wanted to but it was as if my wrists were glued to the table and i couldn't stop my fingers from typing. everything got crazy and so loud and i could smell grass and manure and i felt like i could hear a rollercoaster out the window or at least the screams of people on them, how they go up and down and crescendo. fuckin, but then it all ended. my pinky finger slammed down on the enter key and all the sudden i was in control of my body again. and my mind. the voice had stopped and i felt like i'd just jerked away after dozing off for a few seconds at work. i looked around and the whole fucking computer room was empty. all the lights were off and it was dark outside - dusk, right when you'd notice it was time to go in if you were playing in the yard. maybe just because the voice was gone but it seemed so quiet, like i've never heard. yeah, of course i wanted to get the hell out of there. i mean, i know you're not believing this, if you're still reading, and i know you don't fucking care but i swear i'm not making this up. i didn't even do any drugs or nothin last night. but hey, when i looked back at the monitor the shit was all red and black. the screen was like moving and disorienting. when i looked at it it made me feel how i had just been feeling, but now i could look away and feel proper again. i could have left, but compared to the lack of control i'd been just living with i felt like i could challenge myself just a bit. i kept looking back into it. it kept making me feel disoriented.

i don't know, after a while, rediculous as the shit was, i got bored of it. there wasn't really anything else to do but look at it and feel weird. so i got up to make my way out of there. it was weird, all the fucking chairs had been swung back from under the desks like the people who had been in them had stumbled out of the place in a hurry. i had to push them all back properly to get out of the corner on my way towards the door.

i got outside and i was still creeped out but nothing happened. i caught the 71 bus at the Green Mart. i kept looking around scared thinking something would happen. but i guess everything was just normal. the only odd thing was when i was walking from the bus stop back to my apartment this guy wearing a trench coat and one of those old derby hats or something came busting out from that little alley between Jane and Smart. he was just walking but he had to have been seven fucking feet tall. he almost cut me off but didn't even look at me, he just turned the way i was going and kept walking quickly. he started putting distance ahead of me but i saw he turned right on my street by the pet store. when i myself turned that corner i saw that motherfucker go into my apartment building. i didn't see if he had a key or if he buzzed someone but i sure as fuck'd never seen him before.

but anyway, that freaked me out. when i got up to my apartment i almost thought he was going to be in there. heh, i threw the door open hard and turned on the lights in panic. nothing there, but still, i know you think i'm going crazy, but anyway, i locked the door of course and grabbed a fucking steak knife. haha, yeah, i looked all around and didn't see anyone. not like that giant could have been hiding anywhere in my small-ass apartment anyway. still, i threw back the shower curtain with fear.

so, i should have gone to bed or something but i still had no fucking idea what the hell had happened all day and i wasn't tired at all. i decided to check out my computer and see if anything weird was going on. i'd never been so timid turning on my computer before, heh. but everything seemed to work normally. gmail loaded. no fucking messages, right? whatever. but then, get this shit. right as i was ready to leave the page a freakin '1' appeared. i clicked it and it was just a link. it didn't even seem to have a name from anybody or at least i didn't make anything out. i just clicked the link. i don't know, habit? not that i wouldn't have clicked it even if i thought about it. but it took me to this historical site and to this australian aboriginal page. i read a little bit of it, just about how they live, what they eat, what tools they use and shit - i just scanned it all, but i didn't really see anything interesting. but who would send me this link? and especially today. it was all so weird, so i looked around more carefully. i scrolled to the bottom eventually and there were these freaky links about voodoo and hexes and curses and shit. not just australian shit but jamaican and all that. i hovered over them and they all indicated that they would take me to the same website. i could tell it was the same but i couldn't tell what the address was for some reason. i don't know, i fucking clicked it.

this is the holy fucking thing. this page - it wasn't weird or anything, just a normal page, as normal as a page on curses and shit can be. but it was just normal, you know. i read some of it and it was all morbid and macabre and all and then i saw this one part that was quoted. it was off to the side, not with the other text at all. i freaked out. here's what that fucking shit said:

"...and with this specific curse the subject will usually slowly become ill, more weak, more exhausted. the subject will usually not even notice as the curse works its way into the soul. only once the curse has fully embedded itself will the subject begin to notice any kind of signs. the first and most common signs will take place in the subconscious, usually as the subject dreams. the few documented experiences all reported a similar dream of a crimson lady or of a large, menacing female statue. this specific curse does not generally harm the subject throughout its lifetime. at least not noticably. the only documented cases of individuals complaining of such experiences have never noted any kind of tragic event. this specific curse is quite rare and there is very little known about it..."

i'm telling you, i'm not fucking making this up. i just copied that shit right off the page. you can fucking look it up yourself. i fucking swear. click here

Break out your flashlights

well, i've set things up perfectly for the beginning of a horror movie.

darkness closes in outside as the young man (woman would be preferable) turns around the open sign on the front door. he's left two lamps glowing and oldies playing low on the radio. in the old log building, all alone, fingers clicking, he bends his neck, eyes reflecting the image of a bright computer monitor. the song changes and deep back in the distance of the dark store he finds it unsettling that it just sounded like papers had rustled. he realizes his situation. suddenly, he fears. at first, he kind of enjoys it. the change of the song takes more importance in his mind. his setting seems interesting. he looks around, his face frozen in enjoyment and excitement. but then, something about the way the light lit the shoulder of the rigid sofa; the way darkness had built a wall halfway through the store, he began to struggle with his heart for composure. he turned away from reality then and clenched his hands for a second, took a deep, uncomfortable breath. best to forget about it, he thought. sure it could be exciting, but fear was better to be ignored.

fear had played a big part for him throughout his life, back in the corner of his mind though it was. that was just the right place fear needed to be to grow, but heh, he hadn't known that when he put it there when he was seven and locked it up in a chest and piled hundreds of half-read books on it and smothered it all again with blankets of love.

a car horn blared outside all the sudden and he relaxed as he felt his situation grow lighter, less lonesome, less vulnerable. he considered getting out now while there was getting to be out. but he didn't. everyone'd always warned others not to look down, but now that he had he couldn't stop. he had crunched on those leaves in that house and found that if he went in there, scary as it was, that part of him didn't have to blow away.

so he went back in. think the opposite of an out-of-body experience. even more, you die and float off as a ghost, wondering goodbye. at first, he crept down the stairs slowly, his hand white from clenching the rail through the sweat. panic would rush through him and creak away with each step to be replaced with plain old fear. he was filled with not wanting to be. still, he was continually offered the chance to flee. still, he resisted the chance to flee. something started to make him feel better. he considered that although he never noticed anything getting any better he maybe could trust that it was. recently he'd noticed this - one of life's phonomena. hah, he actually started to feel better. his head raised and he started to step with more strength.

a cold wind blew. he smiled as his hair fluttered and wetness cooled on his brow and upper lip. by now he no longer held onto the rail next to him. for all he knew it wasn't even there any longer. the blackness that surrounded him had really started to turn a deep blue. he started taking the steps two at a time and it was as if the stairs had steepened their decline. he was breathing hard with exertion now and it was getting much colder, his breath showed in front of him. he slipped and he grappled for the stairs but they had disappeared altogether and he was sliding almost straight down. there was something missing. there was something missing. there was something missing...

he fell as if into a black hole, deep inside himself, never to return. he was now him, and although there was a whole lot missing, he could imagine that he was no longer falling such was the rate.

deep inside himself where nothing else could get.

there are mixed feelings within this post.

break out your flashlights because you'll probably want to make your way back home.

i don't have a problem with drinking

weird, but another counselor came in a few hours later. we talked about counseling.

also, i'm really starting to hate this job.

note: if you want to forget about something for a while, make something hurt. once the pain hurts too much, make something else hurt. this is a good way to avoid things. avoiding things is bad.

also, i'm really starting to hate this job.

alcohol is insidious. what's good about alcohol at first is that it's fun. but then it makes you feel bad. what's good about alcohol later is that it makes you feel bad. it is what makes you feel bad. avoiding it is the only thing you have to do to feel relatively better. maybe drink up and then day two feel better and day three feel perfect. maybe enjoy day four and think that night, hmm, i feel great, i could maybe not drink and then also feel great, hmm, or i could drink now.

but that guy wasn't thinking correctly. what happens is that after the forth day or so new problems arise. more real problems. more challenging and harder to deal with. so what's good about alcohol is that it tricks you into thinking that 'ok' is right around the corner. 'feeling great' is just a couple of days away. so at first, what's good about alcohol and what gets you to do it a lot is that it makes you feel good and then later you keep doing it because it can serve as your one sole problem. it's easy to fix one problem. it seems like it at least. it's like if you have a lot of things to study and papers to write but if you write down on a piece of paper somewhere what you have to do then all the sudden you realize that you have plenty of hours left and so you can lie back down and relax.

feeling great is not a couple of days away. there are probably years of hard work. it would be easy to get in my car and drive somewhere and buy some alcohol and even if there are no friends around i could open up the bottles and drink out of them and slowly start to smile and think good thoughts and shout out loud into the woods and the cold night that everything's awesome and slowly or quickly drink some more and smoke some cigarettes and smoke more and more and keep drinking and then think about passing out and then wake up and have my day off and wake up thinking that i won't do anything today because i feel kind of shitty and then opportunities will come up to do things but i won't and i'll struggle through things making normally good things seem annoying and i'll wake up the next day after wasting the last one and think that things seem a lot better and then i'll work out and not drink and then i'll wake up the next day realizing that the next 48 hours are going to be very good before i decide that, yeah, perhaps i'll drink again because, you know, it's a dark night or something.

i don't have a problem with drinking. en contraire, i like it very much and find it quite easy to do.

What the fuck!! and Na+than Switzerlanderson

people piss me off. i love it. i love being pissed off at people. it's so normal. ahh.

also, people make me laugh. i love it. i love laughing at people. in a good way.

front and center even. haha.

one of the only things getting me through the days lately has been thinking about the upcoming singularity. it really makes me feel better, that possibility. i'm in the shower, some worrisome thoughts run through my head, but then i perk up realizing that i better get things in order because of the singularity. i think, well, if i can just get into this situation over the next 20 years then i should be prepared for the upcoming singularity.

i am not brian greene. (also, he'd probably spell his name correctly. or at least without doubt.)

again, a waste

oh, that was going to be the end but now i remember:

once again i strike up an eye-riveting conversation with a middle aged lady who, after five minutes of uncommon furniture store conversation, turns out to tell me, like they always do, that she's working as a counselor at penn state, doing part-time counseling work, works as a counselor, is working as a counselor. this happens so often that i told this one, 'this is weird, i always seem to get into conversations with conselors,' she's like, 'haha, maybe there's a connection,' and we shuffle about comfortably for a second, breaking our previously rigid back and forth about her sons. but after this we go deeper and strike at things that matter, that gain and keep momentum.

mmmhmm, i can relate to counselors. somewhere in my head proposes that maybe it's because i need one. but stronger and more true-seeming (presently anyways) i think that we just share interests. they're good conversationalists for one. but maybe just because we share interests. but then again, somewhere in my head. i'm always saying to them things about my failure to do or be anything but then we quickly laugh at how healthily i justify it and look at it. we say, 'yes, that's a good way to look at it,' and then i shoot out quickly, 'at least for the short-term,' and we're almost like we're pointing our fingers at each other as if they were pistols and cocking our heads.

yeah, i always get into good conversations with counselors.

Today, huh!!

ahh, i love that expression. (well, really only how it was expressed one time in particular by the sun-browned man on that sun-browned day). but yeah, today. There's nothing going on at all except that i feel sturdy and full and clean, clear, getting there. movement is less restrained, breathing is less restrained, conversation is less hesistant, words are less refined, communication is more enhanced. mmm, tastes good.

wait, aren't you still there, unhappiness. where do you reside? looming deep down in the beat of my temples, waiting to come forth, revealing your brood. you wait, creeping behind your webs, mouth drooling over, noticing all your opportunies that i give you to come forth. waiting, grinning.

ahh, but you don't know. this time i've got you. your cracks you sneak out from will all close at once, much to your surprise, ha ha ha, it will hit you slowly, the realization, slow and steadily and sickeningly, you will discover your situation helpless, over, dead. gone you are.

so come again the sweet gain of living; tell me again about your wavy flow, your rythmic beat, you without definition, you with your straight-standing pride, knowing that it's for the best that that you lack.

(and...a phone coversation...and...end of discussion, post)

6:00 and there's nothing

nothing

anyway, i walked into the room and he was sitting there, staring. i had to wave my hand to get his attention. he looked towards me, wasn't startled, scratched his ear. i said, 'i've got those keys for that '05 Honda.' i materialized the keys opening my palm. they fell and dangled from my finger and the key-ring. he stood up and at the same time everything all of the sudden seemed ok. he was taking the keys from me and we were walking casually down the clean hallway. we went outside the dealership and approached the prospective car. with a professional smile i prepared to set foot in the passenger side when everything all of the sudden didn't seem ok. he had paused at the passenger side headlight and now was squating down looking at the area just above the driver's side wheel. i struggled to find something casual to say. instead, he said something. i don't really remember what it was exactly because i couldn't really follow him, but he seemed completely immersed in it. but right as i was feeling fairly uncomfortable, he laughed and scratched his ear and everything seemed ok again. we got into the car and i started hamming it up about the Bose cd player and the V6 power and he seemed quite excited about it all. we took off for the usual test drive route. for some reason i found myself telling him all about some of my personal problems. my kids and how they seemed to be turning out exactly the opposite of how i'd tried to raise them and not really in a bad way but in the way that i wished i had been different. and then i told him about how my wife left me and how i was barely getting by with this job. at that point he laughed and said, 'well, i can't promise i can help you there.' and we both laughed, but then things started to not seem ok again. i didn't feel professional anymore. i didn't know how to continue with this guy. there were no guidlines to follow; following them wouldn't be effective with this guy; i was certain. i felt lonely. then i looked over at him and i think i was going to say something, but right then he gunned it and said something short and exciting. we took some curves challenging the machine's limit with the radio blasting. he wound down the windows and he scratched his ear and looked at me and i saw his white teeth in a smile.

i've had dreams about that smile now for years. sometimes they're good dreams, sometimes they're nightmares. nothing's really changed since that day. i still have my kids; i still don't have my wife. i still go to my job and eat my meals and watch my tv. nothing's really changed since then, but i feel completely lost. i don't remember what i used to be thinking when i drove my kids to school or when i woke up and got into the shower. i don't remember what i used to be thinking, but it seemed like something comforting, something repititious, something 'home.' i don't remember but most of the time i want it back. i pray to god that i could just get it back. i hate this openness. i hate this feeling that i'm floating out in the middle of the ocean. i hate that i don't have any idea what i am going to feel like at any time. i hate this 'freedom' of mind. most of the time.

6:00 and there's nothing. nothing at all.

chad strikes back

the conversations i get into. ugh.

well, since i've decided that i won't be rude and since they've decided that if i'm not obviously rude they won't stop talking, i've decided that i will document what they say.

for the last fifteen minutes, without the slightest momentum put into the conversation by me, i got to hear all about the most interesting things. this quiet-talking, random lady's 43 year old son, her 41 year old son, her 40 year old son (see, they're quite close together, aren't they?) and her 35 year old son. he still lives at home and she doesn't care if he ever gets married. she loves him at home. do i still live at home or on my own? home. i continue cutting and pasting price tags (all i do all day is crafts). well, she says, i only ask because my son always gets the 'oh, you can afford it you live at home,' from his friends. he just bought a motor boat. i decided to say, well, when you're 35 you can expect it. mmmhmm, yeah, (but not like she seemed to hear me) and she contines, my 43 year old is (i kind of blanked out. he's married with kids and so's the 41 year old). but my 40 year old is the true bachelor. i'm thinking, ok, but quickly, with a laugh she says, he's my gay one! the gay one makes money hand over fist and is completely into technology. 'mmmhmm, he won't have nothing froo-froo or fussy-fussy. he'd have a hard time if he was married,' she says, without explaining to me what the fuck she was talking about with the froo-froo business. she says, he's building condos down in virginia. he'll tear them down and build up new ones in a matter of months and make $100-150,000. i say, 'well, that's depressing, i don't need to hear that,' but she just continued on with her story of her son. she must have said simultaneously something about her saying something to her son because she was quoting him in a puffy voice, hands at her sides, 'i'm out here working for a living!' what finally helped get her to leave (other than time droning on) was that i kept leaning out of sight to write down what she was saying hahahahahaha

So what's all the buzz around chadmarco lately?

Well, before clicking your mouse all up into the archives, check what the critics have been saying:

Your blog is thorough

Your blog is creative

This blog is out of sight

I'm so proud. And check this one, it's endorsed!:

Hey, you have a cool blog here! I'll tell my friends about it
Btw....did you create the grahics here or were they included?
Just wondering :)
Pam

finally:

Your blog is great . If I can help, let me know

now here's a word from the author:

Thanks everyone for the great turnout. What with the tragedy going on in the south, i really appreciate that you still take the time to encourage me in my most menial endeavors. Thanks again so much. Keep up the good work and we'll see if we can't eventually rival some of the more popular webpages!

yours remarkably,
Chad Swope

and he called it a post

g/b/g/b/g/b/g/b/vg/vb/vg/vb -daaaaaa

and blah blah blah blah blah

christopher from the curious dog book wanted to have reasons to act like other human beings. he was autistic and thus didn't experience external stimuli as i do, say. or you. but like Data, he strived to fit in as a human, the ways he could. but unlike Data, who learned how to be human by people telling him what it was like to be human, christopher struggled to be human by observing what it was like to be human. (kindof). christopher saw that people swayed emotionally throughout the day. to christopher, it didn't seem rational to get angry just because someone was angry at him. his emotions didn't sway subtlely. when they did sway though, they swayed dramatically and he shut down. he rode a very very low-frequency wave. (i'm not thinking like real waves anymore that have a consistent up and then down and then back up. more like, he stays very very low for very very long and then sparks violently for a short period.) but anyway, christopher wanted to have a reason for him to give more significance to certain days rather than others. i'd imagine the way he saw life would have made the progress of days rather boring. like he was too focused from the moment he woke till he slept to ever let anything magical-seeming happen to him. he was too in control, unless he was completely out of control. so what he did was create completely irrational reasons to get his mind expecting the day to be good or bad. the way to expect a very good day was if he saw four red cars in a row on the way to school. and a bad day was 4 yellow ones.

now, i called the reasons irrational because they are, but christopher said that other people's reasons are just as irrational, just more accepted. like horoscopes and such. but, though irrational, obviously even to christopher's rational mind, we need reasons to do the uncommon. we don't want to be completely rational. even if we've learned that if we do something we may be hurt, we may still do it. (this must have been quite a stumbling block for Data i bet. in fact he's probably had this conversation with Troi.)

but yeah, people that seem to equal out form valid humans that shouldn't be locked up. many of the most self-deprivating ones find god in the most fantastic ways. the meanest can be the nicest at times. but here i'm all messed up because what about the most level-headed. no, that's a trick not real. it's a description error. level-headed could refer to a long-term trait for a person. it just means that they get the least angry and the least happy.

uh-oh! no one will agree with that maybe. even me. but that's where i get if everyone is equal. what if i argued that people, depending on how they live their life, can be considered better than others, have a better time, existence, and everything doesn't equal out in the end. do certain religions disagree in this way?

but blah blah blah blah blah

but then again, what the hell do i know

heh, here's a funny thought. i was just realizing that things of life can't be equal at the same time. they can only be equal in relation.

so i think this means for me that i can allow myself to see things even with a heavy weight towards one kind of perception or other. i can lean one way knowing that i'm not making myself unequal but that things will eventually fall back correspondingly. i'm looking forward to going up and down again. i find that my attention is better during such things, such excitement, such is how things should be at this time of my life. better than when i'm holding myself in check the best i can to see things and do things at their subtlest, trying to keep a high-pitched frequency wave as opposed to a long, low-sounding yet high-reaching (low-falling) one.

hmm, where did i just hear something like this?: like the universe expanding out only to collapse back; i myself can do these things

i think a mix of curious dog/nathan/maybe siona? which i'd link but maybe shouldn't

Post-Dashboard Stuff

there have definitely been times i've looked to the sky for help. thought, i remember happiness being defined up there with clouds and trees. but actually they're just mirrors like almost anything else. the funny thing is is that what i remember from childhood most is happiness. it was the dominant feeling.

another funny thing is that once i realized there would come a time i would have to leave 'home' i thought that that meant that i would have to abandon happiness. crazy but, thinking it was for the best, i began the process right then, young as i was. heh, if i would have just taken it all in stride. don't tell me about the perils, they're better experienced than worried about. and if one of them takes me off the cliff don't cry that you didn't warn me. maybe i wanted to be blind

Raisins sure as hell don't go with Cookies

i think that if there are raisins in cookies they should call it a motherfuckin' vegetable. but, it's what i'm eating right now, so...
i guess i'm getting healthy

it's like eating a handful of rocks with bugs in them.

haha, i just fucking threw it away after that comment and resulting visualization. yuck, all i've got left is this shitty ass nobake cookie. hahhaha, what an idiot. who thinks, 'i know (lightbulb)! Let's dump this Oatmeal into our Dessert!'

you kind of have to pretend you're eating a vegetable to eat these things. like when you're learning to like carrots. you take small bites and think, 'well, this isn't so bad.' but i think it's because you think it's healthy is why you carry on eating it.

what eating a nobake cookie is like is eating chocolate with gum wrappers mixed in.

ha, i like these sun chips though. hmm, i have trouble describing why i like things compared to the trouble i give to describing why i hate things. let's give it a go:

these sunchips are heaven's glorious silk flower of flavor with a light crunch that rivals the beauty of legolas skimming across a snowy meadow. it's like eating up a rainbow that's just splashed into the glistening sea. ah, sun chips, how i love thee

thank goodness i can entertain myself

ever get the urge to spit on everything you laid eyes on? yeah, who has? right, no one. and that's why he's my best friend right now. sure, he's imaginary, and no one can see him, not even no one, but he's definitely here. sadly, he's what adds to my confusion. and to other people's. they're always asking things like, 'chad, who are you talking to?' and then i have to lie and say myself which only makes them think i'm half less crazy. this gets like chess. i could also lie and say i wasn't talking but then i foresee having to prove to everyone that the person that heard me talking is the crazy one. and many people here me talking.

no one's never not around when others aren't

it's weird. i feel weird about it. but others don't. when they ask me who i'm going to the game with things get complicated. but if i tell them the truth i feel like i'm lying because i know i've misled them.

the psychiatrist doesn't know how to treat me. we can't get things straight. do you have an imaginary friend. yes. who. no one. haven't you told me that you have a problem with lying. yes, but not what you mean by that.

and so forth.

lots of times i'd just rather hang out with no one. depending on my state of mind, however, sometimes when my dog's around no one isn't.

the other night i was visited by an angel. she told me that i should just tell people that i have an imaginary friend who's name is No One. but she's crazy because he doesn't have a name. but then she said that i could fix everything by just stopping personifying the idea of no one. but that's even crazier because then i'd be alone.

thank goodness i can entertain myself

one big stretch after another isn't cutting it. and by 'cutting it' i meant a really stupid figure of speech.


oh god. (i may have never said that before. well, i've definitely never written it, but so, i guess if i've never said it before i still haven't) (<-you're such an idiot. updated towards the end of this post. C.A.S. 9/4/05)


tree trunk after tree trunk after tree trunk my feet splashed in the leaves.


*groan* anything but now


speaking of tree trunks and groaning, i wish i'd've carved my name into more trees. this is an analogy for me saying i wish i'd've been more rebellious, because when i think of it, that may be the brunt of all the bad stuff i'd done. heh, not quite but (oh and for truth, i've only done it once and i was totally allowed to because i was skipping track and my friend and i'd named the grove we were in)

HER RAY!

i just felt like saying that.

ha, i swear when i asked merrium webster how to spell a word it responded 'the word you entered isn't even in the dictionary.'

haha, isn't even.

haha extra, apparently it's still a word though, so like i'm bigger and better than the dictionary.

ah, like a cold drink.


no. wait. i've been known to say, 'what kind of temperature is it.' or those that know me claim.

wow, when i don't want to have a conversation, the person talking seems so fucking stupid. of course when i blink back into real listening, they're nice and making sense. and so i sometimes waver between wanting to indirectly end the conversation with a rude 'no comment' and actually just getting through the conversation. luckily this time i saw to the end of the conversation and realized i didn't want her walking away uncomfortably. well, i wavered between wanting this and not wanting it. it's just because i'm awful feeling today. and i know it's wrong to listen to people with disgust in my intentions but there's something to say about the kinds of wild hate my mind can come up with even when someone's just saying and doing normal things. if i want it, you can look so stupid. i don't want it. i don't want to know it exists. but when my muscles ache and life is a constant chore you just want over, then telling me about the trim on some bench/chair set, really makes me wonder if you're the one being rude even though it's probably just because you can't read my thoughts but i like to think that if i'm feeling as annoyed as i am you should be able to read my feelings. am i that good at fucking hiding how sick of you i am? ah, maybe it's still my good will that pulls me from that disaster. i'm not sick enough to lose the battle. the battle that is you leaving uncomfortably or not. such are the battles i wage from this perch. if only being a hero was easier

oh yeah,

that's why i don't take credit for anything. if, say, it's important, here's what i'll do. i'll look around and, 'hmm this has no importance or meaning to me. i'll use it!' therefore, where everyone else puts things that mean the most to them, i put things that have none. my self fades when others' burns. i get bright when no one else thought to care. there is much less competition this way. but, to add more clarity to the first sentence, i don't take credit in things people take credit for. i'm the joker of the deck. i'd never say that except that that's what tarot cards put me and my birthday as. the end. last stab. at the verge. the very beginning and end. and here's what song was no. 1 when i was born:(Just Like) Starting Over - John Lennon

not just starting over, which would be jan. 1st but just about fucking like it. the end's the beginning. (and all that bullshit truth shit)

Some things are fucking annoying

but regular problems are a blast. i relish getting angry and frustrated about things that make sense.

i've been swearing a lot more for some reason. it makes me seem tougher, more rough around the edges, i imagine.

i've started using Alice as my horoscope. she's usually pretty kind and likes to dole out good wishes and fortunes.

we had our 2nd anniversary today at the store. local radio stations were here with the likes of the mascot wally the walrus and voice personality casey, something. my aunt was on the air many times. spreads of cheese cookies drinks such and like. big party at the storefront.

but very slow day.

lou came in and said hi.

night looks bright.

where am i?

i don't know if it was because i was reading about christopher being sick (from the curious dog book) but reading this paragraph blew my head up, as it were. i was forced to make an audible sound and shut the book immediately. i felt a flash of paranoia? but my heart didn't pound or anything. i am slightly afraid to read it again but it might help if i write it. i'm very sure that i will feel very silly after putting it here, but it was a weird feeling like i've never felt before almost like when you see a person from behind but then they turn around and have a mask on and you don't know what's real for a second. but, let's write it down.

(it's not going to be what was said as much as what it triggered.)



But the mind is just a complicated machine.

And when we look at things we think we're just looking out of our eyes like we're looking out of little windows and there's a person inside our head, but we're not. We're looking at a screen inside our heads, like a computer screen.




ok, well, i got the feeling again, more vaguely. i'm glad of both in a way. now that it's faded i'm going to try to bring it back with some control hopefully.

eww, i got it again. it's there. it causes a detachment from what i normally feel like. i'm going to try to think my way back to it but with my eyes closed this time.

hmm, now it's getting complicated. either the feeling's fading more. or with my eyes closed the feeling's more vague. or i'm forcing something that isn't quite the same. or i sensed that i thought that it would be less powerful with my eyes closed right as i closed them and so i may have prepared some kind of defense which clouded the feeling.

this is all important to me because i feel so strongly that i reside in my head. when i'm told i don't feeling rises from my heart and chest. this is possible or is how i'm rationalizing it and both and is what i'll believe for now. it fits in with how i rationalize every thing else. and to be clear, rationalizing doesn't just mean making me feel better. i try very hard to be fair and equal and just and when the rationalizations turn sour i still accept them. now, of course i don't want to kill myself so i might not let in the most profound mysteries yet but; due time.

here's other thoughts on that feeling i got from the book.

the feeling presented an opportunity for me to change immediately. i could have held on to the new feeling and really from then on perceived the world differently. this is too hard for me to do. so, i let the feeling go away. then i try to simulate the experience so that i have some control and so that i can manipulate the feeling. this may be bad. i may use the new feeling to allow new thoughts to arise in my head but haven't allowed it to really change me. this may be good. i won't put a definite deduction on this. but i will keep it in mind so that if later in life someone puts it to me in a way i let myself understand, i will know what i did now and why. i'll be able to say, 'well, that's why i did it and i forgive myself and would have done it again at that time,' if it turns out to have been the wrong decision and all that. of course, this may be the way it is supposed to work, so good then. there was at least one other option but i forget it now. i don't presume so but it's fun to imagine that the one i'm forgetting was something to do with exactly what i'm doing or was to do with the thing that i want to hide from and etc. etc. and so the mind really is very complicated

so this made me happy

i was again listening to josh waitzkin explain to me the intricacies of chess. we were looking at end game strategies and, in particular, end games where opponents are left with bishops of opposite color. this particular game was one where he eventually defeated this grandmaster. before he shows the end game, however, he usually shows important moves leading up to it and explains how the position got exactly how it got.

so, all this, but just really to say one thing. the first move he showed he says could look like a very logical move to some but a very difficult move to see for others. what's interesting is that it is difficult to see for grandmasters and not beginners. the reason he explains relates to what i was having difficulty accepting which i talked of in a recent post i think. waitzkin says that the reason a grandmaster might miss the move was because it was an unnatural move. instinctively, looking at the board, the move should not be made. all chess 'principles' go against making the move, in general. but the small intricacies in the particular piece setup made the move actually work.

i'm thinking it's kind of like any time someone makes a sacrafice. sure, chess principles wouldn't have you sacrafice your queen too often but of course based on the board many times it could be an advantage. the difference here was that first, if one made a sacrafice it is very obvious and the opponent would look around knowing that you did it for a good reason. but when josh made the above move i was talking about it was more subtle and the gandmaster's eyebrows may have stayed set low on his obviously wise eyes thinking that josh just perhaps wasn't as wise as he. so the grandmaster didn't look for why josh made the small mistake because it was probably the kind of mistake he saw all the time and that he realized usually was what separated him and his kind from those who weren't grandmasters. (should be noted, i don't know if josh was then considered a grandmaster. still, the main point holds, just not some of my animation of the scene).

so, the grandmaster was lost in his own book of principles which at once can make playing chess much easier while it lulls a player into false security.

josh was young and ambitious and kept an open eye.

(the way he describes the principles, with sidenotes on everything he says, makes me think of him as using lots of parentheses)

can i even call them thoughts when they are this slow.

it really has been amazing recently. i can barely say that i've been around for the last few days. this meaning that what i used to think about and be present for during each day has been almost completely taken over by new things, enjoyable things, home things. like showering. it's like i don't have to be aware of doing things anymore. more, doing simple things has become like a breeze. no longer tired. no longer pressing.

there's a small danger in all of this. my mind is left to create and imagine and want and expect. instead of my body aching my mind aches. it wants. once again it know fun and enjoyment. back are the days when i'm anxious in only good ways at times. looking forward to. when this happens then there are times of frustration and annoyance about not being instantly satisfied.

these things did not exist before. they were squelched out like christmas for an eighty year old. also more and more and more and more frequently is a vague feeling of deja vu which since i don't care to fixate on the feeling doesn't ever fully become deja vu. instead i just try to turn the feeling into energy and confidence, which may simply be what the feeling actually is.

bye then