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sneaking into the future.

Sun Apr 27 1997


not forver and always.

Mon Apr 28 1997

Fliply trying to open new doors of interest to myslef. I have always been the most interesting thing I've found to be and do. I should know better than to expect any less out here in biz land. Why should I expect more?

My personal sacrifice has truly been just that. I've gambled everything I had - and successfully I might add. Nevertheless, I'm left withut all of that wonderful stuff that made me intersting. I hope this bored phase of my life is not as long as the last one. I did watch every episode of Magnum PI ever made that last time. And of Doctor Who. And Hill Street Blues. When was that? 1985ish I'd say. Over ten years ago - tens years during which I was not so very bored. perhaps I'm getting at something here. That time, Peter proted me off to university once again. He made it soun like I'd find it interesting. I trusted him then on this, and eventually got both a BA and a Master's. Perhaps i should ask him again. I susepct he'd lack a suggestion this time.

What was that sacrifice? I had always in my life been an institutional person.

[ ... one year ago today: doing this right ]

What is it to you, anyway?.

Tue Apr 29 1997

The truly empty world is one in which we do not imagine ourselves imagining further things. What a foolish mistake.

[ ... one year ago today: a new day ]


together with the insects.

Sat May 3 1997

I have a suspicion that I will not be who I wish today. What must I decide to free myself from my own fears for just one day - today? I always imagine what it wouold be like - what my life would be like - without my own fears and patterns of transaction. I live in that imagination more often than not. I hold on to my view of reality to my own detriment. Let go of the way things are according to Carolyn metaphysics. Reach out towards all the possibilities. They can encompass many thoughts and doings. Now I preach to myself knowing in advance that I don't have it in me today.

Alright then. Be at peace with myself instead. Easier I'd say.

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

later

Sitting emptily alone again knwoing that I want it to be so and waiting for a sign. There are none of course. We make what we are. I wish that the feeling of ecstatic joy could live more easily in me - I guess like a drug, andin the end like almost nothing else. Looking beyond such cheap wishes, ... what is there.

A struggle against nihilism. I want to be doing things dynamically and yet I knew today I would sit bck awash in need for comfort. If you could see my life though you'd see nothing comforting. Not a big soft bed, or enough heating in the apartment. Not a good place to sit and relax while I'm here. I haven't beenable to motivate myself to care about making own situation endurable. It isn't now. I would wish that the ay this is created would tempt me into doing it. Let go of the baggage. Where is the pleasure in me or in others. WHere is it? A laziness that strives to dominate my life once again, like once before it displaces the possible energies. Am I simply sick? I think I am lonely. But I am also unwilling to take that loneliness seriously enough to invest in another person again yet. Oh, why did I ever let go of the difficult path? This was all that ever led to my own self pride being real. I liked being at CMU simply because the energies I put forth added up to things int eh world. I don't like the same thing here. I htink there is something about being in this place that makes me lazy - perhaps it is simply me. Tweazing apart the sickness one word at a time. I'll go off to a movie in the rain tonight. Maybe I'll join a social club.

Just for a moment look away from the screen into my heart. Please.

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

still later


expectations and exceptions.

Sun May 4 1997

Last night I decided to be a different person. I don't like anything about the life that the old person created much, so I'll be different now.. I'm worried that a couple of people I know who are energy leaches might try to take from this new person. That really is my only reason for hesitating. I must avoid them I think until I determine whether their behaviour will remain energy negative around this new person or whether it was a reaction to the old person. We'll see.

[ ... one year ago today: later I'll write ]


under weather worn.

Tue May 6 1997

Leadership is a quality that includes being aware of what needs to get done, and then getting it done. Others usually swarm around taking instructions or whining instead. And often teh thing gets done because of the energy of a central core of people. We'll see if ever there will be an exception.

Imagine a world, an anarchy, where everyone does everything in their dreams fully. Imagine (hold on, assume that the people have good reasons for being wonderful to each toerh - long term reason, no defects) this world where you could create your life as you see fit and interact with the world one on one without protection mobs or insurance rackets. Imagine who you would be.

I want to be that person even in this world. So I am the accidental leader. I run companies by accident, and travel through my life as forceful and creative when I am really less than most people in so many of these ways. I liken my feelings now to something I saw in Madonna, in her Truth and Consequences video. She mnetioned that she was niether a great singer nor dancer, etc. She had the balls to go for everything with stamina, endurance, and focus. Much more like a bank robber than a star. No one thinks that she has incredible musical talent. We see in her the faith and strength that most of us lack. Fanaticism is beautiful when we only have to watch it on stage.

Whence my own dreams emerge. Take heed. And watch - my depressions are part of this strength, when things are too heavy to move about. Today maybe that is differnet. I believe I've worked a truce out at the office with Richard. I hope so.

Today in strength I will lead a little into the future that os possible and wonderful for everyone. In ways for all of those who do not embrace their own dreams except through proxy.

[ ... one year ago today: soothing words ]


pursuing the pursuit of better things.

Thu May 8 1997

A sigh towards things.

I'm scared. I guess I'm wondering how the future will be. Usually I have a strong sense of it, and this effects what will happen largely. Right now I'm curious about it. So instead I'm afraid Iwon't be able to thrive in a future I don't see easily. The fear extends to talking with people almost entirely once again. I've been acting a little more independently lately. It doesn't make me happier but calmer. And lonely nevertheless.

I'm truly missing something in society. Isn't all this stuff supposed to be there for us to enjoy or use or benefit by? I know we are the things thatkeep society well-fed, but I also thought that some of the advantages that the larger group emits would be sharable. I don't see it right now.

I've been discussing things on a mailinglist lately, a list populated by people who love writing, and I've found myself alone there too. I didn't engage in the feel goods that others were swapping back and forth. In fact, I've been on two lists both of which are doing this. I know others do it too. I miss doing that with Tracey and with Peter. I hate diong it with Richard - every feel good with Richard is also a territorial move - tiring.

What is the future like? I know it. I shouldn't wonder how to get there. I should announce it and let the how people take me there with them. Thati how things are supposed to work around me. Oopps. I forgot to be clear on this. How people have the frightening tendency to discourage why behaviour - they want more how behaviour from me. Stay together.

Yes, writing still helps me toclarify my emotions - I shouldn't have spent all of last night awake tossing worredly instead. Focus. What were those mantras of mine? [A new one: the future starts now.]


one more entry.

Fri May 9 1997

Stately sayings cross the borders of my electronic world. They tell me to live more directly, not to pretend to be dead, to write about my sex life, and to cut my hair. And one tells me that I am my own usual self - well da.

People sometimes assume that people can change. I believe they can if they put their own minds to it. If my intention was very strongly and primarily to change, then I might craft the route successfully. If, that is, I wanted to do so. If it was more important than otherthings, as once it was to me.

I find that there are some phases in my life that are not about personal improvement. This is such a time. I am more interested in making a stand in the world.

I seem to be making a grave mistake though. I am the president of two successful companies. Currently, on one side I have an old and dear friend who wants equity interest in at least one of these companies. And on the other side I have my partner who wishes to use our equity to raise venture capital beyond what we currently have to play with. I am sitting in the middle wanting neither really. I want to pull out of the middle to let these two wrestle the best bang for the buck out of the world on their own. My vision of the future concretely leaves me in charge of how these operations work.

I am often told here that I don't write about my business or my sex life. I've considered these to be rather uninteresting psychologically. Neither has created or effected who I amin any great sense. They are just things that I do. Well, as business starts to effect what I am doing full time I suppose it is time to wonder if and how it effects who I am.

I wonder finally.

[ ... one year ago today: cruising through the mind in overdrive ]


so hard.

Fri May 9 1997

Let me out and I'll fly


one day more, or less.

Sun May 11 1997

Alright. I reme ber there were Sunday entries a year or so ago, and today is another og those with a whole year in between.

There is a whole drug culture surfacing today. I've always kept more than sufficient distance and I guess I am just a little curious - the alternative of self-righteousness is more difficult to sustain, although perhaps preferable.

There will lways, barring universal species plague, be people who have to try these curiously ambivalent things again.

There seem to be some things that the kids don't get to try - aristoctracy has been banished in large part. Polio. The thought that the earth might be the center of the solar system. Our society and our cultures take these lessons to heart leaving us with so called improvements in their place. These aren't optional to the youth or the exploring adults.

Why then are other things more optional? Are they merely lacking in a great media campaign? Would we still liken the earth to a concentric centering of space if Galileo and his brethren hadn't pursued with religious fervour alternative views? And if that is true, why have some of the destructive forces not also self weeded?

OK fair enough. Not everyone in any century has believed that a drug influenced population was all that universally harmful. Governments around the world are generally paying lip service to stopping the influence to some extent. They don't promote that people refrain from all chemical ateration. Wine and beer and aspirin are as popular and legal as ever. They really don't get bothered by the little inconveniences of a soma laden population until that population starts to steal and kill to get a fix. They way smokers in Toronto might shortly behave.

Leaving some decisions about destructive choices to individuals as they grow up strikes me as just fine. They are a self selecting lot who remove themselves from the games I want to play in life.

Melancholy Geri

And yet, it still puzzles me. I am still an ascetic who shuns most pleasure as a basis for behaviour. I pursue an ideal of calmness rather than of intensity or what others call happiness. And I pursue it in environments that chase pleasure seekers any quickly. An advantage of ascetism (especially my natural sort) is that the harsher environments most advoid are no more bothersome than barflys - equally bothersome. I don't see the difference in motivation between a barfly and a workaholic.


anon.

Wed May 14 1997

The adventures are opening up a little bringing me into the 21st century - if I don't blink. I wonder that I feel half way sentient without the extras. People have options that open or close these up. But I am waiting for the feeling inside me that speaks loudly to the stars with success. Somehow we are just and only human evenwhen we try to do different and new things. The over-ripened sense of moral and civic duties carries most of us into the expanded bliss sense shared by concerned rodents in their nests. And the sheep never look up.

I think there are simple little rules, much like flocking rules, which govern lots of my behaviour. I'd like to tinker with them a little. I noticed one the other day, a horrible little pattern. Avoiding pleasurable actions because... I'm not sure why. But ht epattern is there. I suspect my deep-seated despising of hedonism draws energy into my behaviours in this way. Is it worth it to avoid some little things in such quantity that my life becomes grey? Obviously not. Just because I don't want to be sexually promiscuous just to be safe shouold not mean that I avoid other pleasure to be similarly safe. Shouldn't I try to make my life an enjoyable place to be so that I want to do the thing I want to do? Leaving out too many of the feel goods can lead to - has led to - taxodermic statis.

Peeking out between my fingers, I can hope to find the world peeking back in without daily tsunami washing away innocence. Perhaps Rita and Kathleen and Niels and the rest really just wore me out and ony now am I really willing to try again with less volatile people. Slightly less so anyway.

Over the hills are armies waiting. They are the future and hold closely to our destiny, and history. Could it will be otherwise.


the following is an excerpt from.

Thu May 15 1997

I'm in a loop about what to write. Funny - I tell others just to start typing and something iwll come out. So here I go. It's very cold oin here today with windows open to the fresh air and warm cats on the window ledge just watching. And I type faster to keep my fingers from getting to cold to move. My wet hair is dripping down my back. I'd better close that window today anyway.

And nothing. No thoughts really. My energy usually comes from being bothered by things, or having done a lot of thinking during being bothered. I've been in a more accepting mood lately. I'm trying to decide who to hire currently. Someone who will work closely with me but who is also very polished and professional. I have someone in mind and yet I hesitate. It's like dating - wondering what you are really going to get.

People. I have met an interesting erson this year. Just for a little while. Let me describe him. Most people have one state of psychological rest, and several also have many points that they can change into. All I have met before though have a simple psychological surface all of the time. We are in a soceity that lets people work on the social level much more than the psychological one, and they do not bother letting their psychological surface become complex. But I met up with someone who has.

Imagine a person who has taken several psychological profiles - incompatible in some cases - and pulled energy from each. As an analogy, let's say a smile from a happy person and a between-the-eyes forehead crease from a concerned person, and handshake from a very confident person. Etc. The person will appeal to each of these types of persons as respecting their own emphasis.

This person I met had such a collected presence, a show of types all at once, although much in a Frankenstein manner. The seams showed to me. In fact, the seems between the peices stood out clearly and attracted my attention as unusual. I hadn't seen this before. What a form of polish. Usually this level of smoothness is found solcially and the psychological level is a blank. So why in this case was something different done? I hazard a guess that the person is not insensitive to the psychological level and has worked perhaps alone on sending a double signal to others - a social message that has the sincere backing of the psychology of the person underneath it. I simply don't believe that the social part was missing - even though I don't see these things too well. I have no doubt given who this person was - and is. He holds the office of the United States Vice President. I noted this at the time I met with him. Now I am more interested as I calm down from the personal effects in me of that event. Now I peer back in time and see that something interesting was apparent. [I hope this isn't one of those things that the secret service gets all flippy about. It isn't intended to be.]

I'll have some trouble making secondary observations but I sure am interested in what sort of thing is going on psychologically in the person who will very likely lead the US into the new millenium, along with the calendar, that is.

My theory that people tend to specialize as either psychological or social beings in both awareness and behaviour does not preclude people who learn to do both. It does make predictions about a person's predelictions though, and I'd guess that in this case, Mr. Gore started more psychologically and simply thrived by accident in a terrific social environmetn as well. I guess I must run out to read a biography now. I'd like to learn how to do on the social level what he seems to be doing psychologically. A patchquilt of selected attributes designed to please almost everyone successfully. Very slick.

[ ... one year ago today: a cool morning ]


there were flowers.

Fri May 16 1997

Then there were dreams.

Inside a melody of fragrant flowers and singing trees and smiling hills, and inside the surface of all that was real, I hold out my hand to the stars. And sing in my heart remember the flowers the trees and the mice that were playing alone. Inside the mind where dreams stay alert to protect me from what I don't want to know anymore. And I stay afraid that the truth will be known not at all anymore. I sing in my heart merrily playing along with the sheep on my screen all alone. And over the top of the inside I peek waiting to leave this dreamland I've built in my mind. Singing with trees and smiling with clouds overhead the thoughts hold me in safe and sound. Try to notice that I'm not alone in this universe safe but alone. Take hold of my thoughts swing throguh the branches holding tight to the vine of the sane world around me. I know that the reason will not stay away from me I must take control of my mind all alone. Weaving the vines together closer and tighter to keep a protection around me forever. Innocent twines and malevolent thunder under and through and around me. Singing while weaving gold into straw the real world seeps into my memory stirring thoughts that never were. I wish that the world was friendlier warmer like my dreamworld that once was my self. And I know that the fusion of self from the parts will take me back without mercy. As it does more now with words from the north above.

And the elephant that I loved more than life itself left me when the demon breathed down my neck.

Am I sane?


over and above my own expectations.

Sat May 17 1997

And I thought that I was an irresponsible person. But I have created with several others quite a number of thingst hat work well, including who I am. So why should I think of myself so. Others don't seem to look after their own lives as well in so many cases.

Look into your own heart and view what is needed in it. Judge whether the needs are ethical and good for the world as well. Take action to seek out the fulfillment of these needs fully and totally and share with others all of these things that are so easy.

See? I must go to lunch.

[ ... one year ago today: details ]
............................................................

I know that I am severely depressed right now. I cannot imagine a person in teh whole entire world caring about me. I feel the callous distain of everyone directed at each other. Where is the understanding and sympathetic place I am meant to live in? It could only be inside of me. But I feel the distinct lack of pleasure - craving an escape of ease that comes without work. I hate the soulless surrounding me. Go away with your energy stealing


the real thing.

Sun May 18 1997

We are in a wave of social time where the hope that the whole world will benefit from the small things each of us has learned is strongest. We are holding together a large population of starving people and guilt-ridden people with such hope. We are waiting on our leaders to make different decisions than they have in the past - and they are doing so. Everyone grows up, matures, grows old. Most learn the lessons of wisdom along the way.

I think I'd like to do more than wait. Perhaps I am difficult to get along with because I aim for more than what my inner circle might enjoy and appreciate. Why shouldn't I be King Arthur too?

I thought as a child that the wolrd would see my usefulness and reach out to me for it. I learned as a student that the world has no such interest in those who do not step forward themselves. I act as an adult now to step forward with my usefulness in stages as I learn how to proceed further. My mistake I think was in learning about the world from the eyes of a child without realizing that parents are temporary if you are a leader.

I still struggle with this lesson. Perhaps I always will. The world must be patient with me as I learn not to fear the individual people who would accidently overwhelm me. I must think and plan a little more ahead of time. Just a little mind you, not something terribly extreme. Go gently.

No longer awaiting further instructions.

[ ... one year ago today: where eagles fly ]


feathery errors.

Mon May 19 1997

Everywhere. Taking a train of thought without a ticket, one way, everywhere. There are word fashions interplaying in our culture, memes, ads, slogans, rules, fables, cliches, amd metaphors. Why should we try to wrestle sense out of this when it seems that only the soulless fashion passion travels to the many. The old style religions seem to have been right in some ways. They led mankind on a crackling journey of shared vision.

I've always been amused that in most science fiction stories, the alien race has one governemnt, one language, and one religion, these seemingly representable by any member of that race. Compare this to hwo we see our own race - as 260+ countries with so many languages, major and minor religions, cults and splinter groups, an abundance of intraracial differences, and internal schisms frequently leading to civil wars. Why do e see entire alien civilizations as simply another country? Why wouldn't they too undergo the evolution-like internal discordance that is so vibrant?

I cringe at the thought of a world government, a harmonized population, and Esperanto. But this is so for only one simple reason - and not that I am an anarchist - but more for why I am one. I love the freedom of choice that a person has in what to do and like an dbe that a richly diverse environment offers. Insofar as our visions of world governemt, etc., are usually coexistant with Big Brother ideology (check out mainland china if you have doubts about what I refer to), I am worried. Freedom is my elixer, my counter-toxin to the nihilism reaching from my youth even now into adult awareness.

The soulless arise from this very freedom of choice no doubt. I want that each personcould understand that the route to happinessis in the sense of having a place int he scheme of things. It really need not be a unified world religion. It is simply (it seems) necessary for each person to contect to a sense that they matter and in such a way that their own being should continue. Mystical stuff preaching that everything matters eqaully is insipid in my mind and does not serve as well as a personlly designed metaphysics. But that's just me again airing my personal preference as if it would suit everyone.

So I'm back to the language memes. What should mine be? Taking what it is like to be a person out inthe open? Reaching into my private spaces when I shouldn't? To show people that being a professional person makes sense? Crackling cellophane wrpapped flowers glimmering to shout the truth of beauty - it is everywhere.

[ ... one year ago today: Getting a little closer ]


the teeth of truth.

Wed May 21 1997

Grammatical inequity surrounds me. It's as if I were a second clas citizen for having found mathematics more intersting that word orderings. I used to look everywhere for the rulebook of all possible grammatical strings. I ended uprecieving a degree in linguistics because pf this search, and then as well a Master's in the Philosophy of Linguistics. I ended up in a scientifically rich environment of study, and yet my original quest had been to tell the verbs from the nouns. Suffice to say I still have not really found out what all those beautifully crafted sentences are based on. Grammar surprises me in all but the basest of writings. I suspect I have very few sentence forms. A cage of statis surrounds my thoughts expressed in words.

Several friends I know have this wonderful capacity to spin out words that accomplish pirouettes before my eyes, and theyhave studied not grammar but literature. Gleaning the forms from amongst previous usage seems to be thehidden route that I could not find into the grace of tehgrammar gods. Here I write in a well-known forum and am known for doing so. Perhaps this knowing lack of skill allows me to let flow my thoughts in a medium, that of words, that others find filled with obstacles. Perhaps it is that very confident talent that stimys and stifles the outpouring of concept. I allow myself a small set of building pieces, and with them build cathedrals. For those who use the cathedral as a building piece itself, there are fewer things to be built, although those few things might well be masterpieces.

So long to the snobby vagauries wanting to be a writer. I am not. I have found another use for words in the therapeutic outpouring of concept from my cognitive landscapes out into the cyberspacious never-never land that is Internet.

No one knows if you are a dog in email, but they do know if you can spell!

I am cold now on this ridiculously wintery spring morning. It is time to shower and dress for another day in the game. [But today I want to write more. C'est la vie.]


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