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a new day.

Mon Apr 29 1996

Yesterday was simply not fun. But it is over, and life goes on. It seems I am not even insane. Good to know. And yet, if I am not locked up for it, is it others' opinions that matter or my own only? Others' opinions usually amount to the claim that only my own should count - leaving me amused in a godel point.

A new day. Moppins chirps at me. Time to get ready for the new day physically. I've been talking with Niels so much that I've lost track of what coherent thoughts I want to write out. While he is here, I guess I'll be conceptually asif ambushed, without a real trace on who I am. I like living alone for the peace of it.

Today, I'll snap some picutres of the building to distribute to sign makers. We need a really new new sign for The FSC Building. :)


fuck you.

Tue Apr 30 1996

I simply avoid writing what I care about anymore. People are such assholes. More to the point, they are what they need to be and not what they could be beyond that. Even more to the point, they are not wh I need them to be. I am alone. That is that.

Any attempt to go beyond my stupid little lot in life leads to jealousies, tantrums (mine), stress, misery. Fuck it, as Peter says. I'll find a miserable, cold and rained crack in society to live out my torture. Doing what I want. What a joke. Even doing it for a second takes me into the haves, and the awaiting arms of hatred. Friends are just egoless abominations wanting to appear successful. Enemies are indistinguishable from friends. People. I like cats. Warm soft, purring, nose lickers. I need a tv and a bottle of booze. A big bottle.

Or maybe a bottle of wine. Take it to the office. Get Richard and me drunk. It's just tooo much today. May all the office furniture inteh world self-combust at this exact moment. Happiness in sitting on the floor. Fuck the needs of others. Totally.

I write now while Neils sits inmy living room. I refrained from attacking him for being here. I have no idea why he is here. I as pretty clear about the sex thing. To him, to others. I am clearly working hard on this stupid from hell office setup (I hate office furniture). Why don't people ever jump on to te meta level and explain the reasons for their behaviour? The "feel good" approach to decision making lacks explanation too: Why does that thing feel good / better than this one? Why do what feels good an dnot what feels not good? Can one choose what to allow / cause to feel good? See? It's not an answer. To me. Neils seems to differ on this. Reasons exist but are not offered. Fuck it.

God I hurt now. No sleep. No happiness. No lessening of stress. Things move too fast now, and I am supposed to be that sort of way. I am not. Perhaps other people are foolish and irresponsible of rconsidering my sanity levels... but they pointed me in that direction. Now I am much over sensitive of this ... am I sane. No. Now not at all. So forget it.

Misery by the way does not love company. It loves revenge.


later I'll write.

Sat May 4 1996

later so much.


later is now and I am alone, finally.

Sat May 4 1996

I fibrillate easily now between almost suicidalness to a modicum of something civilized and controlled. I don't want anyone to tell me what to do. At all. But I cry out of misunderstood loneliness.

Niels is gone, finally. No more camera oriented insight to follow me around in my daily life. I expect that from the media, not a friend. Wit, quick wit, was absent. Replace intelligence, or thought, or coherence in my language (in this case, English), or something, with enthusiasm and an insistance on happiness at any cost for any reason, and you have Niels. Cultural veneer of sophistication simply from being from an old culture, and an engineer inside. A good friend maybe someday, but otherwise I cannot expect closeness. I can expect enthusiasm about whatever is in the environment, enthusiasm or silence.

I look inside people for social loquaciousness and sharp thinking. A camoflauged mimic, similar in ingredient list, differing in cooking method and in ratios, fools me. A year ago it was a friend in Paris, and now another in London... I see now what I look for: incredible social fluidity and a literary understanding of the world overlayed with a scientific outlook and a rational mind. I see also what fools me: a highly skilled and educated scientific or mathematic or technological expert with a cultural overlay of sophistication. The inside and outside of these tw are swapped.

I look into the inside and expect and want to find the literary awareness of an educated person. In Richard, Tracey, and Peter, I have this. They overlay a great and wide reading and thinking of the literature and artwork and music of humankind with rationality and the pursuit of what makes sense. The technological and etc skills are after thoughts added on to find their way in the world of money making and argument. I am more of the engineer type, overlayed with a taste for literary people. I am more like these sauve Europeans. I wonder easily now what the really sauve literary Europeans are like, given my propensity to so easily hurt the engineering and durable ones. I wonder indeed. So easy I reach a conclusion obviously over generalized and messy. But I see an undertandingin me starting to emerge about he types of people I really do enjoy and those whose entry prices are too high and the reward too low. Thanks Niels for using this yawning graphy model so many times, it's now glued to my insides - another linear thinker. Yipes. Have I changed so little. Must I really wnat to read the literature myself? Yes.

I am not an engineer anymore. No. Neither my inside nor my outside shall have this flavour in the future. Why do I dislike it so much? !! The listing of facts bores me no end. Simple.

Grouchy.

My mother called again this week as well. The full moon must have lasted unusually long this month. :) And of course... my other grandmother has died. My mum's phone artform of reporting on funerealities is a nice touch. She really out to work for the National Enquirer: Celebrity Deaths.

And guess what... she did phone because someone died, again. My other grandmother. My father's mother. I'm not sure when, but hte whyof the phone call was inheritance. More later. Peter just arrived. Prrrrrrm


soothing words.

Mon May 6 1996

5 minutes and then I'm out of here.

Things come together today nicely. Somedays they don't. The building is doing fine. The closingis this week. Everything looks good. Peter is happy, Richard calmer, me positively miserable - nothing unusual though.

Not only did my mom phone, my dad did. A creture I haven't talked to in years. Information seems to percolate just as I've always believed. I tell her royal bitchiness that it is not hard to find me, that my number is in the book, and poof, oneof them finally looks it up. giggle. We're talking swampland owners here.

Harsh. Yup. Bitter, no. Sounds like it really. More like I don't have much reason or time to bother with them. I am open to bribery though. Can you say, "Porsche, daddy?" No chance. :) Furry entrails make up reasonless heartstrings.

God, I am awful. Mean and unfriendly. In a land where begin friendly and nice is it, I'm not. Cool by me. It seems to work well to have a few close friends.

This is not a self-aware mood... go see a movie, and meditate later. And no sex either. It's not what people crack it up to be.


further and on.

Tue May 7 1996

Peter has been writing something quite wonderful lately. I asked him for this: Conversations with Agassi.

............................................................

later...

Where was I?

Never mind.

Center, relax, write. It is there somewhere, clear thought, perspective, feeling centered. Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere.Somewhere. Kepp typing. No "hmmms," just words in and out of the mind until something reaches the sentient parts of me. No more people here today I am alone. It is not peaceful though. I find no satisfaction in people now. Spinning around the is too much. Where is the maybe?

Where is the maybe?

Is can be nothing other than itself. The mind can know more and less than the is. Twirly description of ordinary understanidng... perhaps a way into nether regions of the mind. A journey past the is's and into the ought's? No. Into the can's and might's and maybe's. Where the mind travels can be boring when the mind travels lightly. But why the mind travels at all is the interesting detail left out so far. Why think? How not to! But some know not how to. Nor why they might want to.

I speak of course of Niels. I suspect he will simply read this and take it as a letter to him. Unfortunate. This being a letter only to me.

A flow is happening... more and more thoguhts pop out as the linear words spin with ambiguity, the saviour of non-linear communication. Up periscope. Look around. Scurry back underneath again.

The McJob force is out doing the Census. Tracey adn Peter both lack the spine - in my opinion - to hold out for their true desires. They neither give in entirely to giving up nor hold out entirely for what they want. I feel so much pain about this, and no sympathy at all for the McJob misery of counting heads. A McJob you can't even quit. This is the worst possible situation since these jobs requirte security rating approval.

No sympathy. I feel pressured to have some, but people make their own fates. Especially in this case. Not thinking ahead. No probs. Simply not wanting to feel emotionally involved isn't "evil". Acting like a disapproving shit however isn't nice or friendly either.

Last week: Am I evil or merely insane. This week: Am I nasty or simply out of perspective onwhat is happening. Too many people.


cruising through the mind in overdrive.

Thu May 9 1996

The mind of business... many details all coming together through me into projects and into a business and even into this building. Today or tomorrow is closing on the property. My lawyer and I talked almost until midnight last night, making decisions on each aspect, a yes here, a no there, my intuitions getting the excercise they've always deserved. Echoing in my head are Peter's words, "Lawyers are deal breakers." Yes and no. They add risks that the other side can take as punches in the teeth. They inform me of the risks to me if I don't want to swing the punches. I choose not to.

Business details. I zillion of them, that's one million details for each dollar I will spend today on this building.

My mind is full of details, one going away and another popping in to tell me of another. Now is the time in the day - just past sleep - when I will write out the extensive list, a list that will amount to lss than I suspect once it is "real".

List completed. TIme to do a thing or two on it!


I get it.

Thu May 9 1996

Or: My life is like a waterbed.

Alright... So I'm sitting here making a million phone calls talking with insurance brokers, building managers, lawyers. And I'm thinking about how proud I am of myself. I'm realizing how much Peter and Hella have entrusted with me to look after. I can see the magnitude clearly of what I have undertaken, with FSC and with the FSC Building. Oh and with taking over the world slowly.

I am talking with people with real and serious jobs, people who treat me seriously, and who take my instructions and ideas seriously. "Fascinating," I'm thinking to myself.

And then I get it. Why I like my friends. What they do for me. The other day I was writing about why people like Niels trigger my yum detectors. I don't know if I really spelled it out.

Now I see though the range of people that I do enjoy, their makeups. Nothing horribly specific. Just a couple of generlities. And I see why. That's what I get.

Why read a book?!! I get it. The answers are the same. Why have I decided not to read books, not to do anything other than be a philistine about world history, literature culture... [No phone calls in 5 minutes... yikes!]

What I get: I am missing a complete and interesting segment of human ness. Completely missing it. But I can see the shadowy outline, a dotted line edging it in. Suddenly. Whta is missing. Why these people make me feel so good. Pre-digested culture spood fed to me at doses I could swallow without choking.

Why shouldn't *I* ever read books? This was a really bothersome question whiel I was inuniversity. Too many things in them that are undigestable to me. Too many references to McJobs (I spelled even this wrong, right Trace?!). Too many in jokes, cultural in jokes. I simply didn't get these at all. This has made me a complete sociopath, the rules and patterns being invisible because I simply choke on them.

But sitting in a high end presentation this morning with a mega big client, talking with all these professionals as not only an equal but also an untrained in their professions equal, a decision maker, talking with htese people [I type fast to outrace the phone!] Yo momma! I get it!

Culture is a matter of getting it. Getting it comes frombeing steeped in it. Being steeped comes from allowing oneself to be so. I have alsways simply refused. Simple. Refused reading books - don't get me wrong as I read about 3 or 4 a week even now. It's more about allowing me to become effected by them.

Now though... now. I feel the inflation of the balloon. Hot air filling up the enclosure. Rising higher. A simple pin could come along. Imposter syndrome? No. Simply the speed makes me a little dizzy, and a pin woul dnot be a bother. There have been many pins. The balloon has many separate, small and isolated comparments for the hot air, each can be popped, adn still the balloon rises for it is the method of creating pocketed balloons and filling them properly that I know. Waterbed technology.

My life is like a waterbed. I get it. Finally.


new traditions in naming diary entires.

Mon May 13 1996

I'm in the new FSC Building. Hella and I have a very nice and lovely place here I think. And FSC will indeed thrive here as it ought to!

More news... my dad called again. After years and years of leaving me completely alone - at my request - he decided it seemsto "want a part of me." Sigh. I talked to him for quite awhile - benefit of the doubt style. I wonder if that is the right thing to have done. I am not intrinsically interested in talking with him or knowing him at all. He feels - feels -

Business ocurrs!!!


a cool morning.

Wed May 15 1996

Early Wednesday morning. I can't sleep, again. I'm restless. Fidgety. There are so many things to do and no matter what I won't be able to get thru them all. relaxing doesn't work, and my sleep is cut short. Funny that I am working with so many other people to keep them calm and balanced and yet I am not able to do much ith me. Really I've done a lot with me. I don't want to imagine what I'd be like without all the balancing internally I've done.

Of course I'm not an advocate of thinking htat my past states of wonderfulness will be lof much good for long. They wear thin when not excercised regularly. [If ever I'd been able to type or spell, then I'd cite these as examples that have worn out.]

But. I'm really tired now. I'm accumulating sleep depravation again. Hmmmphf. Even the remnants of Jamaican coffee aren't serving to perk me up this morning. And of course, as soon as we plugged a virus checker to monitor our LAN at our new location, we found a virus had crawled in and nested. :) Good thing we checked! Now to get that phone system friendlified. We got a fiddly system. Too many options. :) Me, I guess I'm a bit of a technophobe. I never used to be until meeting Richard. But he travels that extra two minutes faster than me into the future, and I always end up feeling a little archaic. I'm just not the techno wizard he is.

The sun is almost finished rising. [An unaware Hemmingway allusion. GIggle. Maybe I'm not entirely uneducated. But why is there such a specific body of literature to read to make one educated in this way? Ah... for the same reason that one must have read Heinlein and Asimov and Clarke, not to mention Ellison, Herbert, and Tolkien, to really [spilt your infinitives properly and] be a science fiction insider.]

I feel more like a details phobe, a how-phobe. Why-mania!! No. Even that rational faculty is becoming over-used ... how style. Get those details out of my face!

Writing helps. I just don't have the gret American novel to write. So I trtudge through my mind instead, amking headway where none is expected anymore.

Tracey and Peter both jumped at my McJobs thing. :) I wonder what will happen if I write about their dogmas. I'd rather write about mine. These will help me more directly. Theirs, I can then take in stride more easily. So what are mine?!

What holdons do I have to a previous time? Insecurity. Lack of polish when I should shine the brightest. I self view that I don't remember anything - I really don't though. That's the one. Tracey happened to mention over dinner with myself and Peter last night somethng that had happened to her a while back, something she suddenly claimed I had been privvy to. I haven't the foggiest clue what she was referring to. If she had redescribed the event, I probably would have recalled the experience. But she didn't. She mentioned it in passing only. Now I am soooo curious about what she remembers that I don't.

Hold on. Insecurity. I am not remembering the so-called "good times" anymore than anything else. Most people are mostly blank slates to me in an interaction. Of course there are exceptions. I remember clearly going to dinner with Bill last week. But to contrast, I don't remember much of Niels' stay here.

[I haven't been getitng up early enough lately to really write. Get up after geting as much sleep as possible. Try to get ready for going out. Go out. Intend to write at the office. Not get around to it. Or get distracted in mid sentence. Dampening - tell Rose. Thinking things through in an orderly, although now still mostly distractable, format, writing, is allowing me to de-frag. Why do I so easily forget what is good for me. :) Who doesn't!]

Insecurity can be easily caused by not knowing wht is going on in social interactions. And I don't when the other person involved are using previous knowledge without helping to get in the know to. I don't exactly drive off cliffs for failing to notice them- my head inthe clouds. But I do have a variant or small dose of this. Surely being a why personis not so bad. Surely I can convince the environment to how-help in return for my why-help. Surely. Daaa.

I've done this already. That is how my life has been organized. I don't drive too often myself. I don't normally have to worry or take care of the details of the world's existence. I am supposed to and valued for looking after the longer term vision. So why do I feel that I should run into the offic ehtis morning to fix the phone system?!!! :) I should not go in at all today - no meeting s of strenuous import - I should stay here comfortably and gurgitate.

I feel really good now to have arisen early without enough sleep and to have spent time going through my own cognitive lanscape in this, my own discovered, method of self-knowing and self-cleaning. Prrrrrrm.

Now maybe I can sleep? Or should I run off and join the headless chickens? Am I the head?


details.

Fri May 17 1996

I've twice tried pseudo-blind dates in the last few months, where both people found me intriguing and attractive, and of course, they both knew of the diary writings too. I'm afraid aI build up people's expectations - rightly. But the goodness and strengths in me are not where others ever expect them to be. This lets down other's expectations fast, and unless they bear with me, they run away thinking they know that I am insane - or at least too high strung.

Now another charming person hasinvited me out, and withthe same initial position: I am charming, attractive and intelligent - interesting. Is this an unworkable pattern or have I travelled the road without grace? Cetainly the last month over the building closing was intense and incredibly mind blowing. A few fuses did pop.

Time to screw them back in.


where eagles fly.

Sat May 18 1996

The summer lowers traffic on the Internet as the universities and colleges in North America spill forth their captives into the real world. I wish all these knowledge or diploma seekers the best of luck, or success, and only imagine the day when they would be pursuing these two things in the opposite ratio. No no. Air traffic controllers are good people and useful people too.

Peter was by here while I was away. A new tuna tin is being worshiped in the firdge as a consequence. He really has a way of making very happy and satisfied critters more greedy by regularly offering them more than the environment will naturally sustain except with his presence. This morning both of my cats a re a nuisance. I'm glad they enjoyed their tuna escapades, but... Must one always bribe beasts to keep them happy? No.

Early morning. Random thought firings as my mind awaits the cooling coffee steaming by my side. Here we go. What is important? To me, self-awareness and intelligent use of my mind. This makes me feel wonderful as nothing else ever haswill.


Getting a little closer.

Sun May 19 1996

Close enough to feel the heat as it lays its beaming fronds on my cat. The clouds thickening into one hazy realm above which we can only imagine th ecrustal warmth of sunlight. Sightly with the sound of clicking keys in my ears alone I can feel only alone. Too many people know how alone I am, comments drifting over and through other conversations casually. Why do I need to be so alone?

Leaves tumbling off branches in the spring air a salute to the hormone drives walking th espring streests awaiting fruition. But where are those with whom I will await the future in happiness? I don't know the plot. Only the characters. A casting director. A producer. Even a director. But not a writer of what is.

Dazed thinking up in the me-ness in me today. I've been reading too much. One month overdue library books slowly catch my eye instead of doing the laundrey. I don't want to go out in public at all now. Stay here. Go to the new office. Visit a friend. Not the inbetweens that are required in travellng in one's life. Geographical wandering hurts. The flowers are beautiful - surface. They are beauty depth too, but this is what most don't feel. I do not want to share this with another then. For I do not want to share their reactions to colorful surfaces as if the experience is comparable. Surface lies.

I want to believe that a surface is a reflection of hte internals. But our society has struggledin creating a myriad of methods and potions and procedures to change this as inside, so outside philosophy. I am such, or even it's reverse. So inside, not so outside for the worse. But such is what so manyy belive. I shy away. Whistle at yourselves. I want my self to myself. I've created tht beauty for me to enjoy. And to share this with foolishnesses requires other motivaters for me: become a flower inside and I will indeed want to look closer. Remain the minimum requirements of human and I am not interested. As once a transcnedance of material life was all transcendance meant to me, so now it means something more general. Transcendance of what one is caught up in as the good thing is the meta-version. Stay away, oh godel point from this loop. Leave it intact without screaming that this need to transcend is also an attachment. Go through the process required for which that is the last step, not now when even the first is yet to be much.

Awaiting further instructions.


a few days of rain.

Mon May 20 1996

yup.

I spent most of yesterday with Peter. He has become overburdened with both the McJob and the other things he does, and has decided with my encouragement to treat hmself better - with more respect. I hope the effect lasts beyond my ken. I hope.

Another mouse rescued. Have I the only cats who supply my house with mice instead of removing them? They are indeed fun to play with, but...

It is hard taking a day off. Perhaps I shall go into the office today.


a warm bath at sunrise.

Thu May 23 1996

such things.

After bath:


so tired.

Sun May 26 1996

The feeling of having too many things onthe go. cracks where old thoughts reside come to my mind to add to teh confusion. File corruptionon my office system: without knowing it. That is what my mind feels like this late at night. Pulling together a project so that it looks good for the morning. And still sleep is an imagined land where I can be dead for eight hours, no penance. My eyes are not open here in the new building. Everyone gets in on this internet thing. great. I just want to do my thing though. I am not competitive. Funny that I do not come across this way. But then my real levels of confidence were always invisible to others. Why not htis too.

My kittens await me at home. Curled up one on a chair the other under the couch. Beautiful creatures. Mind narrowing experience inthe land where priorities are tnot the long term.

And there I used to think that I was not a long term thinker. Ahhh. How funny. Now I think in the life-span term (medium term) about worldly things, and still I ache to think about eternity, where the ends meet - an old story I wrote comes to mind. Check out the beginning of the diary for TimeBugs (I can't even remember who to spell an URL right now). Yes, the problems of the why person reside there. But so too the solutions the thoguhts the concepts of humanity's salvation. I enjoyed those lingering thought sessions.

Yes, I enjoy the lingering cretive energy of business. A different thing. Nostalgia will make any torture look good. Stay in the future!! Stay there. Look back not.

Unbalanced thinking there. A little ... fuck it. I am tired. That may be off balcance... but it is more balanced then I was ten minutes ago. Improvement too is a virtue.

How

How

How

and stil I ask why


ask not.

Tue May 28 1996

too tired to think anymore. can't get to bed early enough at night. people want t talk til late. and then I'm up at 6. can't sleep. my fingers and toes are feeling numb. the tiredness lives in them.

What is in my mind anymore? Truth? Victimhood? Caffeine? My period is starting today too. I thought I was pregnant for a few days. God, was I scared. I can't stnad the idea of getting pregnant. I find the idea synonymous with being suicidal. The end of my life. So although the pain is something right now, it is a relief. Just another remnant of not living by my own standards.

A song left my head. Staring into the void my eyelids create, I cound hear it over an dover. A bad sign that I let one stay in there for two days over and over. They always loop like that. Draining my energy, a feel good, touch the sensation with your inner tongue. Always somethng that just caught my ear in a restaurant the other day. Just a bit. rarely listen to a whole song so the bit doesn't end, it loops. And I own a loop for a while. Without choice. Calming in the inner soinning takes a conscious effort and study of hte loop. Letting go. it is gone although I can still hear the echos. This one made me feel in trouble, helpless. A bad catch.

Similarly, richard has been formulating rules to keep the office functioning. I haven't been, so the place is governed by his. They break when I apply them. Sigh. I think I shall ignore his rule making behaviour entirely. No more loops.

Funny that business is doing so incredibly. I feel as if everything will land on my head shortly. More because I have been feeling indecisive. Decisions are to be made, and implemented. Period. Later, they can be altered. No second guessing. Trust the decision making skills. No second guessing. Other peoples' lack of understanding the whys of the decisions are not reasons to second guess self decisions. Fine.

There is a lot of energy caught up in song loops in me. Peace.

I told Richard a story yesterday, one I thought would create many problems for me.

The sun and the onion

An inner circle carefully picks it's members, not on the basis of creting conspiracies, but on the wisdom that people portray. Inner and outer circle structures are the onion structure of wisdom relations. Until recently there was always either noone else in the structure at all with me, or I was not at the center. Suddenly, I am in a complex structure with many people, and I am at it's center, alone.

I have been fighting this. I don't want the center. I want to have someone wise to talk to. I have wise friends. But their visions do not talk of the bigger spaces I think about. I find myself in the driver's seat alone, without Peter, and without a successor. I must stay there until someone can take over for I have the wisdom to see I don't have the strength to truly lead by myself. I want to be human too much.

I as the wisest person I know currently am causing chaos fighting this role. I must draw strength now from inner fires, and warm the others bringing good stories and hope and enlightment closer to our success path. And yet, I still want to be a cat curling wiskers in the sunlight - Suky, soaking in the warmth from the great sun goddess.

My office computer knows my struggle. It laughs at me, finding file corruptions where there shouldn't be any, ignoring LAN locations and crashing, forgetting who I am until I realise that the greater problem lies in a song loop.

More stories to tell me.


forget it.

Wed May 29 1996

Hundreds of littl eleaves. Screaming in my heaf as the universe disintegrates into little shards. Crunch as Richard steps on the shards, pressing further cracks irreparably into my once was mind. Hatred desparation. Why. I just opened a bottle of wine. Athena hogs the phone line that connects me with Peter. I cannot talk with him. So I will get drunk to ease the screaming in my head. And write it out. Where there is only me to hear me, the best listener I know. I need not theories to interpret me, only honesty. strategy

I need to be looked after right now as I sink into desparation. A cloudy red wine. Not to my taste, but on the shelf. Waiting for today. Why. care

My mistakes. Relying on Richard. Expecting him to figure out what I am saying. Expecting that his fighting style has changed to include me as a partner. It has not. I am being trummeled into the earth. His fears. They haunt me now screaming holding close a dagger pointed outwards. Last defense. Almost always being used now. children

Moppins sits with me. Stately poise. My dark side must be leaking for her to be this close. The wine hurts my ulcer. So be it. Clearly I am one of the typical fuckups in life. Got so far, and here is it. Being hard on myself. No. What is in my head could not be being hard on me. Watching Carey sink. Tracey trying not to very much, and yet. Richard succeeding at any cost. Any cost. Losing my friendship. My respect, and even my care. It slowly wittles away. loss

Meditation. No. All that is there now are solutions unuseful. There are too many changes for my greater awareness to have digested. Later perhaps, when things have settled a little. peace

When a business suddenly becomes very successful, should one say yes to this? I intended this success. I designed it. I advised in how to implement it. And now I wonder about why aI should participate in person up close. I should not perhaps. I should not. I for instance do not get rewarded from the day to day stuff. That is for others to receive. barrier

And for others to create as a consequence. Let me take this lesson, to stay abstract and create abstract. Do not fool me, world, into slightly less abstract for your own socializing reasons. I am not strong or useful there. Stay in the mind's creation. concept

She is gone now. Peter will talk with me. I can only hope he will understand how to why to unfrag my mind. hope The phone rings...

forgotten


jezuz.

Wed May 29 1996

right So I talked wtih Peter for quite awhile. He had to get way after that while. he needed a smoke. But we talked a lot about me. What I'm about. What I need. I forget what. Richard pronlems really. Richard called from the office almost as soon as we hung up. He wanted to talk with me. Like now, I was plastered. Alrgiht. Like Londo, my keeper is missing. I am not working for the light clearly. I wish.

I am, but today is a bad day. Today I see the influences on me clearly. The dead ends we all pursue are as clear as the open ones. Normally I steer without detailing these. But not now. Now I can feel the fear palpitating.

Bullshit. What a lot of miserable wishing. I wish thngs were that awful. Hah. Things are as they re. Things will be as I make them if I have the will and the strength. Simple.

Fine

fine


refreshing new headspace.

Thu May 30 1996

Maybe writing here helps. I was certainly crashing recently, and in part because I felt crowded out of my own ife into some other one, one with a window and a desk and people popping in in person to talk about things. One with an insane computer, file corruption, MSWord on a Win95 LAN (big no no), and aloneness at the strategical level. Where is the long term, I've been wondering. For it is me. And it does not need a computer, a desk, or successful nowisms. Look at the future possible. Present actual is filled with details unuseable. Swim into the future holding head up high, and trust in the present makers. They will trust in me too. Allow them this luxury which is their due.

No hangover. Heh. I expected another day of misery. But that seems flushed out of me finally. Stay away from the office. The mantra is in place, installed. :) Finally. Create your own life, live it. Stay in it Let the siren of workethic stravel in others. Harness the creativity with gentle hands instead. Living in Canada. Where exactly are th external rewards? :)


azura khan.

Sat Jun 1 1996

Relating to my life so easily, I wonder if I can imagine any longer what another's life is like. The breaking of communication into doubt.

The computer is off my desk, and I am at peace again. Funny how such a thing can make a difference.


 

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