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sev al er.

Wed Jun 18 1997

tomorrow: three, moods, grapes, government, red

Where my thoughts lie firmly in me, there is me. Where my thoughts seek in the world for knowledge, there is the subjective experience of mankind. Where my thoughts can no longer grasp beyond the imagination, there is the possible. Where thought itself creates, there is the future of all.

Stories and myths give us structure to what we perceive and imagine. I'd like powerful and traditional stories that fit tightly onto what we now see, and yet which give us a suggestion of guidance. Not simply an eastern thrust balanced into the act (east meets west in cyberpunk), and perhaps not the coolness of knowing it all now already, something more. I must ponder on what I think I'd like the world to be like.

I have lived for years in an acceptance kick - mostly to become conservative enoigh to fit into the pre-fab moldings that already exist, the sum total of easy to recognize ways to be. Alright. My spirit to change things is missing. To get it back, I'll have to loo at the bigger picture and find the way in which it is wrong. GRIN. Even though I think this form of view makes no sense. Things are the way they are. Just because. No conspiracies, no bnig plan, fnjord. Surprise.

So I am to change this view now? For my own mental health. My own growing boredom with the is indicates that the is ought to be changed simply to make me intereted in life more directly. Let's trigger those little bio-chems into motion. The bio-feedback system needs some input. I'm saying this? The person who is nervous in public when alpha posturing is directed at me? Yup. Good luck to me.

I enjoy this arrogance. It feels causal and leading to better things in general. Even if it is shit writing. Good thing I'm not a writer!

[ ... one year ago today: coffee steaming ]

fun ease.

Thu Jun 19 1997

tomorrow: mouths, space, soft, intended, several

I had an invitation on my answering machine several weeks ago from someone I did not know to go wine tasting with him. It just never occurred to me to follow this up. I never did. It left me feeling funny leaving behind an option that I might have enjoyed simply because the person involved was an unknown. Most people are similar enough that this opportunity might have created some spontaneity around me. perhaps I shall phone back today. I do prefer red wine to white. I am sure as a consequence that I do not know white wines at all anymore.

With several meetings to explore today, I must pull together the business coating, create a sense of austere creativity and then channel my focus into our concerns in the long term. I was writing to a friend just now about the long term rewards of what I do, and how the short term is always lacking them. I wonder how I could like the short term too without feeling tossed around by the short ups and downs inherent in there. Looking at only the positives might work. Not my cup of tea, as it were.

My upcoming vacation is on my mind. It will be the first I've had in almost two years. I could take more, more I haven't found the options viable for a while. Now however, I'll be driving into other parts of Ontario and seeing the sights - a nice hotel, nature walks, a masage therapist, and a fluury of wonderful things to do. I'm looking forward to this more than I thought I would. Perhaps this is what makes it a vacation.

There is nothing much inside of me today - calmness. Nothing that needs to be said. I guess I am a doer today.

[ ... one year ago today: e-volition ]

and underneath.

Sat Jun 21 1997

tomorrow: mushroom time sharing

no thougths today. I'll move on.

[ ... one year ago today: summer solstice ]

what I arrive at.

Sun Jun 22 1997

Another Sunday in a life of Sundays. What must I do to go beyond the vacation style of life? And with a real vacation comng up on me in a week - which I am looking forward to a lot - perhaps I will grow less confused between these. I wonder. I have quested to avoid seeing hte universe as full of work to do. And good for me on this. So many people run a treadmill that few enjoy. I believe it bodes well that it is possible to view one's life alternatively.

Nice solid lines around the descriptions. I want to know that things can be perceived in a concrete manner. I even want to perceive them that way myself. left on my own, things float by without the theory-ladenness that we all rely on to make snap judgements. I want dogmaticism around me to react against. Funny. My life-long pursuit of freedom led me to a lack of dogma. And I find I must go towards it again to retain a viewpoint - a vantage point on society. So I live in Rosedale, and I try to meet people who really get into their own preferences and views - it feels wonderful to me. The abstract entities that are my closer friends can drive me crazy with their flexibility - power in this yes,but no longer comfort for me.

I realized yesterday that some of Tracey's old dogma was still clinging to me. I had found it relaxing to contrast with and yet with her gone, it was still around inmy head, though no longer as a contrast. I foundmyself concerned about aging, and about exercise, and about hte condition of my skin, and whether I should get the ends of my hair cut. Things she always talked about and I always listened to as wastes of money, or as perhaps foolsih self-abuse viewpoints to talk her out of.

I don't want to have a contrast view any more. Now that I really have wonderful friends, I should want to enjoy who they are directly and without a contrast. I'll work on this. Try to develop an independent method to determine what I like and don't. There is no reason to simply reflect what is any longer. I am in a position to create what will be forever more.

"An uninspired ruler works to develop those relationships which will be most to his advantage. A great ruler determines the most desireable relationships and assumes them into being."

-- p. 112, In Conquest Born, C.S. Friedman

[ ... one year ago today: picnic ]


Mon Jun 23 1997

The density of the universe is probably less than 1 given its volumne. What do I know anymore. I could wander forever travelling between the mtter without concern looking at pretty sunsets. An old childhood dreqam.

As I grow older and do things, I am less and less that child. I Guess I find that surprising. I've done a lot of things to be a grownup and it seems that it has worked. I can do a lot of things now to reverse the process, or to alter its course yet again. What would I like? Can I like sometihing that I build? I don't much care for surprise the way Peter or Richard do. The universe is not obliged to show me something new every day - perhaps having a bad memory makes this easy.

In darkness we strive to see, and inlight to shade ourselves. Beings inside a range beyond which is death and suffering, inside of which are the possiblities open to us. I look out at the sum total of instantiated possiblities and find very rare inspiratioon to travel in that direction. My navigation system is internal, and I find the potential in me to truly trail balze - if only those around me could respect that makes me difficult in the here and now. Must I give up and sacrifice to trailblaze? I don't buy that story. I didn't as a chld, and I succeeded as a consequence beyond most person's dreams. I'll try it again, the hard road.

I suppose I ought not to see the civilization we live in as finished, leading only to one of the decay options open to vast organizations. I should see what is as a resource just as my government does me. A supplier of raw material. Must decide what eh trail can be. Funny - stupid idea. Trail blazing is about hacing a dream and pursuing it. This does not mean you find it. You find something and often it is new anyway. Dreams are guideposts to the unknown. Dreams are themselves though known if not had.

My confidance is back. I dreampt all weekend about all the options and opportunities now in front of us. And things did crystallize. I'll be a different person daily for awhile as this comes forth for others to use. It's fun being a member of a team, the dreamer. My dreams will come true. I don't need to limit them anymore. The guideposts stand sturdy.

[ ... one year ago today: it ]

cannabalizing vegetation.

Tue Jun 24 1997

Thundershower outside my window this early morning. I just screamed awake, cats flying out of cushions.

Resolutions in the air, of energy and elements. I think we'll get along better now that taling is allowed again. I will not act like a child any longer. Without question a godd decision.

So I must decide what I want. I do want to d all the stuff at FSC that I do. And I want to gambol about the town and the world without fetters, letting fear take a back seat to inquisitivity. I'll let myself relax a bit, and pull others in with small talk laced with purpose. And once in, I'll show that that large talk too is fun and leads to places unseen at first. I want to have a life overall that is worth having had. And I think I'm in a position to do so - so long as the fear mongerers stay in their own places without colouring mine any longer.

The rain can awaken thoughts too. [With the thunder though I may lose the power of the Interent, and I should save this ... Alright. And my umbrella is at the office in the lobby. Ooops. ]

I am left in life with the curious suspicion that I have friends in odd places. How can we tell if ou lives are normal? There isn't really a norm per se, and i'll bet that every person either dogmatically believes their's is or their's isn't, in neither case with any good reason. I'll file the question as misformed and leave it to the philosophers with nothing better to do.

I'll have a shower now, and some instant coffee. I wonder why true connoisseurs aren't the one's who've figured out that hot tap water works just fine and is way quick.

[ ... one year ago today: jokers in the deck ]

and the wind blows back steam.

Wed Jun 25 1997

Unhurried footsteps lead the way in the dark. I hope that I can hear them, but I'm not sure at teh moment. Footsteps neither in space nor time. The wayof living is to trust that the future will arrive, and in a shape that matches my own drives. Even in struggle we create our lives. In a peaceful wandering, we find, I find, that the challenges are harder to adopt for they are living internal.

I wonder at teh people who seem strong on the outside. I believe that part ofthe strength arrives from the constant image's creation of belief in others - that of a repository of strength. A nice stage trick. Were it that humans could feel that way inside too. I think a few do, those who embrace the one directly and live in constant contact with fundamental enthusiasm. The promise of a strict but right life. I guess rather easily that this is not thepicture of my own life, lthough many people see a strictness in me that does indeed have it's advantages. The nicing of Carolyn.


My vacatioon plans have gone awry, and though for very good reason, I am still disappointed. Perhaps the excitment I purposefully tried to feel for this now leads to disappointment. Is this why I normally leave excitment out of the picture. And yet, it is not so difficult to deal with either. The committment to an abstract that I have no idea about cannot capture any sorrow in me. Only concrete plans - those I have experienced before - can really cling to my expectations and cement themselves to who I am.

I'll see if I cannot enjoy just another weekend as if it were a vacation.

And again, now probably the 600th time or so, I must off myself to the office. Luckily it is only two blcks away. "Luck" heh.

[ ... one year ago today: bleeeeeeeeep ]


Thu Jun 26 1997

I met up with several people from an organization called the Society of Creative Anachronism last evening. I think in a relaxing an fun way that this might be a lot of fun. I wonder if my own tangles of political and social inventiveness would fit in, although I doubt it. Perhaps it wouldbe good for me to simplify a little.

One fellow left me with a calling card emblematic of his own beliefs, or perhaps those he has when in character. Another woman talked with about the nature of flirting in medieval times.

I'm left with a sense of warmth.

And a little poem arrived from Richard this morning that I wonder about too. I like the sentiment. I wish I could believe it - perhaps with a persistant change in his own attitude about what should be stuff we are all doing for fun I could believe in time.

It's a nice belief really that we do the stuff we do for one of two reason: hardship real and true, fun and pleasure and the pursuit of an enriched life. The things we've built are for fun. Businesses, relationships, interesting stuff to do, challenges that are sometimes just beyond us and work out with some effort andthought. Why should any of us take on the mantle of grey death in doing something that is done for the pursuit of simple fun? Taking something more seriously than it ought to be taken. Hmmm. That is what several members of the SCA talked about when I asked them if any role playing occurred in their various meetings. They seemed concerned to explain that in any organization some people get caught up a little more than others in the shared imagery. Perhaps that is what is happening with Richard. Somewhere people ought to laugh. Perhaps my own serious nature leads him to think that the whole thing is serious - worry-wart serious.

Running late ... miau.

[ ... one year ago today: multiple cation ]

oxygen molecules are here to stay.

Fri Jun 27 1997


breathing thinking watching the keys depress. wondering what to buy.

how do we tell when things are worth doing? Should I only want to be the way that I see others will approve of? What about the trailblazing aspects of my nature? SHurely I dress rather creatively. Does this extend out to other thing I do? I am glad to be seeing less of Richard. I have never had a force in my life as conservative as him. I asked him to let me have room to be unconservative for awhile, and now he is so extremely unrelentingly conservative. Remarkable. Where are the epicycles and doubts that should be there? Is everything just an act?

Yesterday at the office, the SCA was talked about with such excitment. It seems to be a popular possible thing to get in involved in. It seems that i'll be getitng involved more myself. I'm looking forward to it. And I saw the new Batman movie yesterday with Carey. I think I liked way more than her. I thought it was a terrific icey Goth scene.

Warm cat dancer lying in my arms to purr at me more closely.

simply bs.

Fri Jun 27 1997

I don't know if it comes across in writing, in my writing here, that I cannot speak very well out loud. Today was one of the more disatrous days for me. During this week, almost every plan I've had, incluing those I've organized and those others have, has been cancelled. I interviewed several people today for a simple bookkeeping job and only one spoke english well enough to guess at what I said. Of the people I normally communicate with, none of them are intersting to speak with any longer - I am not worth it.

As I tried to leave this morning, I started to get very depressed. It's around 6pm now, and only getting worse. I had to leave the office finally after a meeting that was never cancelled simply didn't happen. I needed to cry and realy to get angry. I'm willing to give up everythingfor a chance at telepathy. I remember now why it used to be such an issue with me that people were not telepathic.

I can't seem to get them to understand what I am saying - even when I think communication is going well. Certainly when how tasks are emerging, they don't understand me. I ahte Rihard so much for harping on external things like following the right convetions. I hate him bitterly, and I didn't even speak with him today. I stay away as much as I can without hurting anything.

Imagine trying to say things and seeing only a look of puzzlement on the face of the person you are speaking with. Trying to add or cahnge what you are saying. Can I express myself thorugh this clumsy medium of words at all?

I've run out of books to read here, and there is no food or tv. I'll have to go out. I'll have to face saying things and the onsequent blank stares. What am I missing? Every time I think this, I get angry at Richard. He gave me a bracelet last week, a pretty silver chain. But it was too big, and it has slipped away. I cannot live up to others' expectations of scheduling and orderliness when they cancel and expect me to know things I do not. Pre-packaged expectations of what people are. What am I if I do these things? What else must I be sight unseen. A package if little value when [people see the unconformity. BS.

I will lie here crying to keep them away. Looking in the mirror all I want to do is scream at anyone who reaches out at this point. Why should I expect that that will be of any value to me?Where my thoughts lie lonely, trapped behind a failure to have learned language conventions. Hidden social traumas waiting to lose my status for me as I blunder forever as a 4 year in the social moray. Still BS because I am angry enough at the universe to destroyit all. I am angry that with all the things I have tried to do I am still shut out of the simplest of games through my own lacks. For a few days I felt a little more happy, and now again the knowledge that I am trapped behind a keyboard like so many other geeks. Friends who think that perfection or detachment are the only routes. No acceptance. And I exude both of these things to my own detriment. No more does anyone tell me that I can do anything I want to. They all know better. I guess I do too. I'm laying bets on the rescuer - name and time. It's 6:20pm and I'm betting that by 6:45 Peter or Richard will show up here.. I'm betting Peter. How many minutes will act difficult - until I find that failed communication is no longer the default for me again.

I cannot seem to lose myself into a jargon or a way of being where the question sof life do not pop out my mouth. The repression monster has taught me to stay silent on these for they are not appropriate - I am supposed to retain the prestige I arrived with. I want to be a paart of things and even without onmy own terms. But noone spells outthe terms other than those of reporession - isn't there a book of positive guidelines rather tnan only things not to do?

And the weight of a person depressed will never be held up by anyone. I die of loneliness and must be alone. I'd rather not live. I've never been known for bravery - only for blind willingness to do bold things. This however is the weathering of iceages. Mountain ranges crunble into desert sand while I am supposed to be nice. Where is the screaming to take place. Still and again BS.

6:29 and Richard chirps at me across the Internet. Not bad call - I thought it would be in person though so I think I lose the bet on technicalities.

effervescent bubbles pop.

Sat Jun 28 1997

2 things: sleeping it off (depression); indexing is for the birds - hypertext is about surprising connections too.

So I slept for about ten hours and now it is another day. A new day always leaves me wihtout much memory of what I was like, about what was happening. I sort of know this morning that I was furious. I knew because I didn't immediaely bounce out of bed when I woke up. I had a sense that there was no reason to be alive. I went back to sleep. Not the space I want to live with.

What would be good enough to be alive for? Something I enjoyed. Someone I loved. Plans that sparkled. I still wish I was getting off the planet - less than ever before and yet still so much that my heart bursts. Not the way the US or Russia get off the planet, like a quick trip tot he corner store for milk. I'd like to wander the stars in a small craft. My childhood fantasies were always about ways to be alone - living up north in a tree house, moving to Alaska (I didn't know it was American), wandering the stars, post-nuclear wasteland (like in Barb Wire). I've changed myself so much since then - I love living in a secondary nuclear target now. Back when I was at the University of Waterloo, I worried that is was a primary target. I considered transferring schools. Some obscure school lost inteh wilderness would have been good. But I didn't.

The dream of getting away from the mess that doesn't make any sense to me is really what that was about. And yesterday it didn't make any sense. My chaos monitors showed no patterns - to be more honest, it showed none that made me feel good at all. Only ohter people conveniencing themselves to the point where I had lost my own interests in the picture. Interviewing people whose hands shook while hoping they'd be hired. Friends organizing carnivorous dining parties knowing I simply can't go. Other people with their own lives to lead. I was angry because of that. And more important, I was willing to stay that way. I've been trying a lot to stay within the conventions. And when they suddenly offer no short term reward for a little too long, I simply implode. I couldn't see that there might be some value to my misery - that the value was in letting things grow past the point where they were troublesome. I still hate Richard though. His childish nature contains no understanding for anything beyond his own emotions - ever. Sometimes, frequently, this is just uncceptable in a friend. Too much of what I have done has been to benefit him - make him feel the world fits who he is. I think that isn't needed anymore, and I think I will hold back from creating things that fit Richard specifically. It is his turn. The only thing he gets right when I am angry is that it isn't about him. He hears me talking about him - mainly because he cannot seed the exploration with anything but comments about him. He takes this as a sign that I think everything is his fault. Heh. So far from what I am thinking. I think that there is no fault usually - only mindless cause, and this makes a difference in my thinking. I respect fault as the taking of responsibility for ones actions. I hate mindless causings. "I didn't know any better." "I couldn't help it." "I didn't notice." "How was I supposed to know." That is the BS that rubs me the wrong way.

I don't dream of getting away anymore because I understand what I wanted to get away from. It was the chaos that people generate. Chaos occurs when people are lying about what is going on. That's it. The universe is not chaotic in the sense that the patterns are easy to see - and when they are not, it is easy to attribute either a lack of sight or a lack of pattern (depending on your own metaphysical propensity). When people are unpattened it is often because they are playing around with patterns that are old hat to them, and invisible to me. As blind as I am to these, I frustrate those around me who think that I must have been able to see them or I wouldn't be who I am. But this is false. I am who I am by blazenly acting forth without a goddamned clue as to what the rest of them are doing. Sometimes with the advice of counsel, I end up in terrific places that most wouldn't have the balls to get to - and they I assume I have balls as a consequence. I guess insome sense wihtout fear I must.

But to assume that I am trying to use conventions of nastiness simply because I am cut by the chaos is cruel. Like some I know are immature in some ways, I am equivalently unable to grasp some of the simplest social constructs. Why should I have wanted to be involved in some goddamned social event which I knew in advance I would be uncomfortable throughout? Without a companion with me, I would have been isolated during the whole evening. I would have ended up being in a group which was inherently uninterested in making sure I was included. Why be involved in any way in such a circumstance? Not a chance. Finally the methods used to coerce my attendance were primitive, social, and distasteful.

Go away worold with your tendencies to treat everyone the same. Go away with your predjudices and assumptions. I'll take my own childhood fantasies over becoming a grey nondescript player in your grande play. Total bs. I gues I'd rather the world wasn't this way. But it was yesterday. I told any part of it that tried to come near me to get me further involved in its greyness to go away far away. Only Richard and the gas man tried which was fortunate. Go hold your vote amongst people who belive that daily life is democratic. My daily life has a dictator - me. Only the government of the country I live in is democratic. I will not pretend all the other decisions are made that way.

So what is the reason I should want to move around and do things today? What the fuck is in it for me today? Most of the business things I built tick along without me. The future might not if I were to ignore for too long, but for today I am not needed nor even much wanted. What else? I don't care to go out to social partying events. Perhaps I overloaded myself this week already. Isolation is not doing me much harm. Only a little, and less than the world was managing to.

Usually I just look for company. One of my biggest beefs is that it seems impossible to do some work at the office without Richard showing up there. I cannot stand this. It ends up looking like I go there for company because I cannot stand working when he is there with his vibes be they geek or social. In either case they are not warm and inclusive vibes.

I haven't eaten much in two days. Perhaps that is what I will do - I doubt it, but just maybe. I guess I'm still pretty angry and horrified about my life. Perhaps I'll sleep today away too.

[ ... one year ago today: glitter ]


Sat Jun 28 1997

I am not important enough to anyone. I wish I could simply kill myself. I've wished myself dead so hard that at least my mind is dulled and the pain stopped. A little. I wonder that nothing moves if I don't move it. Emptiness and loneliness and nothing else. I am not made to be alone and yet I am finally.

After a few more days of this, I think I will have thestrength to end it all. With nothing left but walls to stare at, it shouldn't be too much trouble. Give something to the cats to eat. I don't suppose that would be their style though. I am only angry inside somewhere in this numbness. I had hoped that efforts would count and add up inside me, but they just lead inexorably to more efforts. It doesn't matter that I put in those efforts only to end the the need. To others it doesn't matter - to me it is hopeless. I hate them all fianlly and know that unlike when I was a teen, I have tried other things. I have looked out a little in the world and found nothing. This then is the answer.

We are biologicals wandering around thinking our own stuff is improtant. We forget tolook into the heavens. Local political tides seem so big and important. And the real fact of hte matter is that we are really just desparately holding on to that view so that our eyes don't glimpse the horizon. It is there where truth wields the sword. A void of possibility and no necessity. Nothing to really stick to a person's metaphysics. The great shadow war ended and half the viewship probably didn't bother watching anymore - for what more could be important. They didn't get it, but I did. Life doesn't have the clean cut endings we north americans cling to. So I become famous for awhile, and gather influence to me and money and power. As soonas I glance away, it didn't matter at all to anyone else. They won't notice. My landlord will rent the apartment to someone else, and I'll just be gone. Nothing is simpler.

Nothing movesunless I move it because I am alone. And I am tired of doing the moving at last. There is nothing worth being alive for. After several hours of thinking this over, after days really, I settle with nothing and realize that is not sufficient. Nor is it sufficient to pick something at random once again and pursue that. I know now after having done this several times - about a major in school, about what to do with business, about who to associate with - that what I get will not be something my heart desires. My heart desires only to get off the planet, and I ma md eof the sorts of material needed to become an astronaut with the shuttle program. I know my dream cannot be reached at all. So my life is truly not worth anything to me. The tears welling up are only the wet pursuit of hope - a fantasy that science fiction books will never fulfill.

The niceness quotient of the universe ended with Athena and will never return. I am finished.


Sat Jun 28 1997

It's around 9pm now. I've been trying to do nothing, to forget everything. It seems to be working in a funny way. I stared at the computer screen, the ony entertainment left here. And I couldn't begin to find anything interesting to do with it. Funny the the Internet has nothing to offer someone who isn't already plugged in. I didn't want to look at web pages at all. I find thatI usd to love the net before the web started up, and although its so much easier in many ways to use, it has never been as satisfying as alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo. It felt good to go back there and find what I had so many years ago there amongst the junk postings. Real interaction.

More to the point I guess. I've been wondering why I'm so angry. In the end I was angry because everyone simply dumped me for other things over the past while. Each had his or her own good reasons. But it added up. And funny thing was noone bothered to notice I took a dive at all. I want to stay away now because ... because eventually someone might show some concern. I am sick of the nice bs between me and Peter. And the horrible lack of communication between Richard and I. I feel that I deserve better than any of this. And I also feel that I don't deserve anything - that deserving is an obligation mindset that I don't believe in having. I guess I want more than iether of them has to offer. And each of them thinks he is the best thing in the world. I am tired of being near that without it being true. If someone wants me to believe with him that he is the best in the world than it had better actually be true. I am not a romantic sufficient to the task of falling into the ego space of a man. Truth must shine free.

So the anger is dying down rather than building up. Perhaps for me it was good that noone tried to talk with me all day. Perhaps I might have tried something stupid. But I didn't. I just slept it off, lying on the bed trying to relax, crying. Reading. It's late enough now that I'll just go to sleep and maybe perhaps tomorrow I will manage something more than misery. It hasn't been this bad in a long time.

My imagery for it? I need a lot of support from those around me. I need them to find me wonderful and to be nice in many small ways. I need them never to take me for granted or to ask a favour of me - for I will not grant it unless I am harming myself. There is my biggest mistake - this past week I granted many too many favours and took back nothing that I needed. What passes for normal behaviour in so many just burns me out. I won't make that mistake again. Where I no longer hate, I still resent.

Until tomorrow...

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