The Diary Project
Weekly Journal
2020-07-20
I Solved The Mystery Of The Ten Commandments
The Highlight Of The Week
And It's Not Even On This Page
So, here's a hint:
The Highlight Of The Week
And It's Not Even On This Page
So, here's a hint:
ten_commandments.replace('God', 'The Rule of Law')
Summer In Bloom
At The Duck Pond
2020-07-20
Monday
Blah. Blah. Blah.
DREAM: 18" was the dimension used for sleeping bags, sack liners, and the size of the passages in The Robot-Ship-Thing. 18" of cloth folded over, so 36" circumference, which doesn't work out so well {as it's really not big enough}.
DREAM: They went down into the derelict bomb shelter (possible wreck of The Robot-Ship-Thing), while I stayed above keeping watch. Since the car was parked right there, we were far from hiding our intent... far from being as clandestine as we had intended.
DREAM: I had a job interview, but was too wasted to drive. I told a roommate I'd pay them to get me there. And they used their Time Travel Jump abilities to transport me. It was a babysitting job, tracking the kids... via Time Travel Jumps. I expected no difficulty.
MEDIA: Hot Wet American Summer First Day Of Camp
WALK: Yes. Long.
FEEL: Yes. Highly Negative. Anger is the wrong word. Past Anger into The Calm Indifferent Beyond... or so, I would have you believe.
MUSIC: Yes, please.
During My Walk, I found A Tall Cake Stand. I'll be using it to present Rent in Ten Days. I like to do something special each time, for it to be a bit different each month. Maybe, I should bake something, as well. But then, I'm pretty finicky. Nope. Hyper-Fastidious is more like it. Dirty Money near My Food? No Thanks! But I'll think of something.
Is This is a True Statement a True Statement?
{I assume the previous is simply ambiguous: i.e. unknowable. It is True if it is True. And False if it is False. While the following is simply False.
This is Not a True Statement.}
This is Not a True Statement.}
SORT: I got rid of a Frame. It contained A Watercolor. Was The Watercolor worth anything? Based on The Frame and Matting, not at all. It, also, was not signed. I have The Cake Stand. And I acquired The Frame for the same reason... a vehicle for the classy transfer of money.
I am getting rid of stuff slowly, as if I will die (cease to be) when my belongings no longer are. I have never owned nothing. Well, maybe not never. But within moments of birth, I'm sure I was given a Foot Band... My Foot Band. And My Life has been an immersion in Physical Objects ever since.
These are the thoughts that occupy my mind.
Writers so often (it would seem) go crazy. Is it because it is inevitable that we slip away into a story (go all in), sooner or later?
Why should I care about anything? (Though really, I mean fear. Why should I fear anything?) It will be what it will be.
FEEL: Hopeless. There is No Positive Solution. None. Nada. It just ain't happening.
2020-07-21
Tuesday
Sober! All Day Long!
DREAM: Apparently, I can tell when I'm under the influence {of alcohol and so on} in My Dreams long before I can tell I am In A Dream. This was on a Train, looping about The City.
DREAM: The set up was incredible and if I could remember half of it, I'd have a great story. The climax included throwing knives into Him, causing Him to fall/sink into the Poster of Him, which acted like a camouflage of sorts {so, one could no longer see the dead body}. The lead up was so complicated, it's hard to believe Murder was the objective. So, it was just like your typical Murder Mystery.
DREAM: We ordered The Cod, which could come with a Marijuana Infused Sauce (all the cool restaurants are doing it). But a more refined approach (i.e. high) was desired, leading me (as I was ordering for the table) to decline, leading those dining companions of mine who had them to smoke them.
DREAM: "How fast can you go in your dreams?" led to taking the scenic route.
Not a bad night of Dreams (there are many more moments and/or details {better left unsaid and/or easier left unreported}), especially after one considers that I didn't fall asleep until 4AM, due to Anger Issues and an Ear Ache.
10:11AM: Wake Up Time is slowly inching back.
The Girl With A Thousand Nicknames
FEEL: Sad. There is a loss. There will be more.
SORT: I got rid of a Reusable LEGO Bag (it was a Free Promo), along with a trio of Credit Card Billfolds (of the kind restaurant checks are often presented in), which I'd got from The Bin in the first place. And in return, I got a Tennis Racket (which feels good in my hand) and an Ultra-Cheapo (if unopened) Badminton Set.
I'm very pleased to have gotten rid of some Dead Weight... even happier to have gotten Value in return.
WALK: Cut short. But Sweetie is home.
LEGO: Tester Walls. Testing the limits of assembly. Or more accurately, is this pattern conducive to tees and corners.
FOOD: Filet Mignon & Smashed Potatoes
Oh, yeah!
FOOD: Frozen Caramel Pudding! The last of the batch. <*frownie face*>
FOOD: Caprice Salad... or at least, that's what I think it's called.
Yesterday, I was feeling a bit distant from Reality, like The Walls were in danger of coming down (not really), and I could catch glimpses (ideas, and/or reflections) of The Beyond. It's all a lie, totally inaccurate. But let's say there were glimmers of The Walls shaking.
The most prominent idea was that rather than Progressing, I was getting Left Behind. So, on a Airplane full of Through Passengers, I was getting off on the next stop... or more accurately, everyone else was already on their Connecting Flight and it was just me (and a few other stragglers) in An Empty Airport with no Future Flights planned... or ever to be forthcoming. End of The Line.
The Smell of Basil fills The Air. So, The Salad is still in the future.
Oh, just by-the-by, I hardly ever drink. It's really not my thing. Was at one time. It's not anymore.
2020-07-22
Wednesday
Peace Of Mind
DREAM: The Bag of Coke from The Movie a few nights ago somehow found its way into my dream.
DREAM: The Brakes don't seem to work that well on My Dream Land Cars. Fender Benders are amazingly common when I'm behind The Wheel.
DREAM: The Winter Coat would have cost $300. I didn't want it. I didn't need it. But I really should just buy everything in Dream Land that is ever offered up for sale. Also, I don't think The Seller would have cared if I'd just walked away after I'd put The Coat on. {Oddly, upon waking, I really want to increase the number of interior pockets which The Coat has, make it more like an Army Jacket.}
DREAM: It took me a long time to get the correct change out of The Till. The coins were mixed up. And the ones in my hand kept changing... mostly into other Coins. But I did wind up with a few Rock Charms.
WRITING: I am closing out projects. Today, I spent a few hours working on Gay Day (regarding a Gay Pride Parade) and Project Euler.
They were left for Anyone, of which I am a One. So, I took them and did what I would... which was to immediately toss them into the garbage bin.
Let us preserve The Peace and talk about that which matters not, the trivial passing of the days. Objective Achieved!
That's a nice breeze. I very much like The Wind.
WALK: Lots.
TALK: Lots. Family Dynamics & Politics. Is a Tag for this appropriate?
FOOD: A poor rendition of a Steak & Tomato Salad.
I admit it. I am out of the loop. They are still protesting. Though, as far as I can tell, it's the right to protest that is now being... um, advocated... you know, if not protested.
TALK: It is very hard to explain a Counter Factual Idea (i.e. something that sounds insane) without sounding insane.
"But that's not true."
"I think you're missing the point."
<*Celebrity Voice Impersonated*>
2020-07-23
Thursday
You're Not The Boss Of Me
DREAM: It started in an amusement park ride waiting room. I've been in this queue (or one like it) in Dream Land before. Only a few seats were left. The family was all there. But I was not sitting next to My Sweetie as another would not swap. "I've been in that seat before." The scene changes and I am hunting Fox... or Rabbit. I never get a clean shot. And when I finally pull the trigger, The Gun doesn't work. Good thing. Moments later I am reading the Hunting Rules (what a mess) and cannot figure out the legality of Hunting Fox. Then, I'm in a conveyance, An Amusement Park Ride. And we are Flying in a Helicopter over Ireland... or An Amusement Park Simulation of the same. Nice Castle. Reminiscent of The Carved Cliffs from {A Different Dream} a few weeks back. At the next stop, the conductor says most folks take the boat back to Angels Point (or Angels Landing). I decline, preferring The Copter, which was awesome, and wake up instead. So, I should have taken their suggestion/lead/advice.
I was up for awhile. But it was a false start.
DREAM: They were leaving a message on An Answering Machine. So, I picked up. It was a wrong number, as it appeared they wanted a Travel Agent. I offered to tell them everything I knew about Ireland. But they were not interested... and probably, no longer there.
DREAM: Transfers were available at the next stop. But then, I'd have to take the long way around. So, I wasn't interested. Prior to getting there (the next stop), a supervisor stopped the bus, intending to check everyone's passes. And that's where The Dream ended. So, I guess it was The End Of The Line one way or another.
EYES: The sun is bright. But things seem clear.
My neck hurts. Or more accurately, I have a slight Neck Headache.
WRITING: Obfuscating some old code is taking longer than desired.
12:27PM: I'm slowly headed toward 15... and yet, another syntax is introduced. Sure. I over-think things. But in many Logic Games (say Math or Programming) the syntax (or Schema) is a major component. Annoying in The Short Term. A Lifesaver in The Long Term.
I wash my hands more than The Average Bear. It was likely only for thirty seconds. But it included three micro-pumps of the liquid soap. I felt the need to wash my hands after moving {i.e. touching} a pile of rags. I track my hands, attending to when they touch something dirty; and therefore, when they become dirty themselves.
FEEL: Sad. Down. Now lifting. I awoke too early. Neck problems. And I'm annoyed at having to read The Code File again (on the 'morrow). I could skip it... in theory. But I won't.
SORT: Grooming Kit Pouch. It was a convention freebie. Never used.
LEGO: I put away the good stuff. I want the Table Space. Though, I might take out The Crap LEGO's to sort, which is one of the major reasons I want The Table Space.
MEDIA: Star Wars: The Rise Of Skywalker
FOOD: Cherries, Blueberries, & Strawberries
It's enough.
POEM: Suzy Slut
Suzy Slut was a Whore.
But ain't that what we're Fighting For.
This is a tiny bit from a longer rhyme that I composed (or maybe just tried to recall/remake) from back in '95 or so. I was just passing the time of day {when I originally wrote it}. Writing would not become a Big Thing until over 20 years later. Sure. It was always a thing. But not a Big Thing.
MUSIC: Psychedelic Trance Mix
SORT: Handfuls of Crap LEGO's went out The Door. I really only like the one size: 2x4. Though, with any luck I'll have enough pieces to get a 2x4 or two assembled out of Flats and Dots. So, I can get a feel for the idea.
I am getting rid of stuff slowly, as if I will die (cease to be) when my belongings no longer are. I have never owned nothing. Well, maybe not never. But within moments of birth, I'm sure I was given a Foot Band... My Foot Band. And My Life has been an immersion in Physical Objects ever since.
These are the thoughts that occupy my mind.
Writers so often (it would seem) go crazy. Is it because it is inevitable that we slip away into a story (go all in), sooner or later?
Why should I care about anything? (Though really, I mean fear. Why should I fear anything?) It will be what it will be.
FEEL: Hopeless. There is No Positive Solution. None. Nada. It just ain't happening.
2020-07-21
Tuesday
Sober! All Day Long!
DREAM: Apparently, I can tell when I'm under the influence {of alcohol and so on} in My Dreams long before I can tell I am In A Dream. This was on a Train, looping about The City.
DREAM: The set up was incredible and if I could remember half of it, I'd have a great story. The climax included throwing knives into Him, causing Him to fall/sink into the Poster of Him, which acted like a camouflage of sorts {so, one could no longer see the dead body}. The lead up was so complicated, it's hard to believe Murder was the objective. So, it was just like your typical Murder Mystery.
DREAM: We ordered The Cod, which could come with a Marijuana Infused Sauce (all the cool restaurants are doing it). But a more refined approach (i.e. high) was desired, leading me (as I was ordering for the table) to decline, leading those dining companions of mine who had them to smoke them.
DREAM: "How fast can you go in your dreams?" led to taking the scenic route.
Not a bad night of Dreams (there are many more moments and/or details {better left unsaid and/or easier left unreported}), especially after one considers that I didn't fall asleep until 4AM, due to Anger Issues and an Ear Ache.
10:11AM: Wake Up Time is slowly inching back.
The Girl With A Thousand Nicknames
FEEL: Sad. There is a loss. There will be more.
SORT: I got rid of a Reusable LEGO Bag (it was a Free Promo), along with a trio of Credit Card Billfolds (of the kind restaurant checks are often presented in), which I'd got from The Bin in the first place. And in return, I got a Tennis Racket (which feels good in my hand) and an Ultra-Cheapo (if unopened) Badminton Set.
I'm very pleased to have gotten rid of some Dead Weight... even happier to have gotten Value in return.
WALK: Cut short. But Sweetie is home.
LEGO: Tester Walls. Testing the limits of assembly. Or more accurately, is this pattern conducive to tees and corners.
FOOD: Filet Mignon & Smashed Potatoes
Oh, yeah!
FOOD: Frozen Caramel Pudding! The last of the batch. <*frownie face*>
FOOD: Caprice Salad... or at least, that's what I think it's called.
Yesterday, I was feeling a bit distant from Reality, like The Walls were in danger of coming down (not really), and I could catch glimpses (ideas, and/or reflections) of The Beyond. It's all a lie, totally inaccurate. But let's say there were glimmers of The Walls shaking.
The most prominent idea was that rather than Progressing, I was getting Left Behind. So, on a Airplane full of Through Passengers, I was getting off on the next stop... or more accurately, everyone else was already on their Connecting Flight and it was just me (and a few other stragglers) in An Empty Airport with no Future Flights planned... or ever to be forthcoming. End of The Line.
The Smell of Basil fills The Air. So, The Salad is still in the future.
Oh, just by-the-by, I hardly ever drink. It's really not my thing. Was at one time. It's not anymore.
2020-07-22
Wednesday
Peace Of Mind
DREAM: The Bag of Coke from The Movie a few nights ago somehow found its way into my dream.
DREAM: The Brakes don't seem to work that well on My Dream Land Cars. Fender Benders are amazingly common when I'm behind The Wheel.
DREAM: The Winter Coat would have cost $300. I didn't want it. I didn't need it. But I really should just buy everything in Dream Land that is ever offered up for sale. Also, I don't think The Seller would have cared if I'd just walked away after I'd put The Coat on. {Oddly, upon waking, I really want to increase the number of interior pockets which The Coat has, make it more like an Army Jacket.}
DREAM: It took me a long time to get the correct change out of The Till. The coins were mixed up. And the ones in my hand kept changing... mostly into other Coins. But I did wind up with a few Rock Charms.
WRITING: I am closing out projects. Today, I spent a few hours working on Gay Day (regarding a Gay Pride Parade) and Project Euler.
They were left for Anyone, of which I am a One. So, I took them and did what I would... which was to immediately toss them into the garbage bin.
Let us preserve The Peace and talk about that which matters not, the trivial passing of the days. Objective Achieved!
That's a nice breeze. I very much like The Wind.
WALK: Lots.
TALK: Lots. Family Dynamics & Politics. Is a Tag for this appropriate?
FOOD: A poor rendition of a Steak & Tomato Salad.
I admit it. I am out of the loop. They are still protesting. Though, as far as I can tell, it's the right to protest that is now being... um, advocated... you know, if not protested.
TALK: It is very hard to explain a Counter Factual Idea (i.e. something that sounds insane) without sounding insane.
"But that's not true."
"I think you're missing the point."
<*Celebrity Voice Impersonated*>
2020-07-23
Thursday
You're Not The Boss Of Me
DREAM: It started in an amusement park ride waiting room. I've been in this queue (or one like it) in Dream Land before. Only a few seats were left. The family was all there. But I was not sitting next to My Sweetie as another would not swap. "I've been in that seat before." The scene changes and I am hunting Fox... or Rabbit. I never get a clean shot. And when I finally pull the trigger, The Gun doesn't work. Good thing. Moments later I am reading the Hunting Rules (what a mess) and cannot figure out the legality of Hunting Fox. Then, I'm in a conveyance, An Amusement Park Ride. And we are Flying in a Helicopter over Ireland... or An Amusement Park Simulation of the same. Nice Castle. Reminiscent of The Carved Cliffs from {A Different Dream} a few weeks back. At the next stop, the conductor says most folks take the boat back to Angels Point (or Angels Landing). I decline, preferring The Copter, which was awesome, and wake up instead. So, I should have taken their suggestion/lead/advice.
I was up for awhile. But it was a false start.
DREAM: They were leaving a message on An Answering Machine. So, I picked up. It was a wrong number, as it appeared they wanted a Travel Agent. I offered to tell them everything I knew about Ireland. But they were not interested... and probably, no longer there.
DREAM: Transfers were available at the next stop. But then, I'd have to take the long way around. So, I wasn't interested. Prior to getting there (the next stop), a supervisor stopped the bus, intending to check everyone's passes. And that's where The Dream ended. So, I guess it was The End Of The Line one way or another.
EYES: The sun is bright. But things seem clear.
My neck hurts. Or more accurately, I have a slight Neck Headache.
WRITING: Obfuscating some old code is taking longer than desired.
12:27PM: I'm slowly headed toward 15... and yet, another syntax is introduced. Sure. I over-think things. But in many Logic Games (say Math or Programming) the syntax (or Schema) is a major component. Annoying in The Short Term. A Lifesaver in The Long Term.
I wash my hands more than The Average Bear. It was likely only for thirty seconds. But it included three micro-pumps of the liquid soap. I felt the need to wash my hands after moving {i.e. touching} a pile of rags. I track my hands, attending to when they touch something dirty; and therefore, when they become dirty themselves.
FEEL: Sad. Down. Now lifting. I awoke too early. Neck problems. And I'm annoyed at having to read The Code File again (on the 'morrow). I could skip it... in theory. But I won't.
SORT: Grooming Kit Pouch. It was a convention freebie. Never used.
LEGO: I put away the good stuff. I want the Table Space. Though, I might take out The Crap LEGO's to sort, which is one of the major reasons I want The Table Space.
MEDIA: Star Wars: The Rise Of Skywalker
FOOD: Cherries, Blueberries, & Strawberries
It's enough.
POEM: Suzy Slut
Suzy Slut was a Whore.
But ain't that what we're Fighting For.
This is a tiny bit from a longer rhyme that I composed (or maybe just tried to recall/remake) from back in '95 or so. I was just passing the time of day {when I originally wrote it}. Writing would not become a Big Thing until over 20 years later. Sure. It was always a thing. But not a Big Thing.
MUSIC: Psychedelic Trance Mix
SORT: Handfuls of Crap LEGO's went out The Door. I really only like the one size: 2x4. Though, with any luck I'll have enough pieces to get a 2x4 or two assembled out of Flats and Dots. So, I can get a feel for the idea.
{Essentially, I would like to take two thin 2x4's and eight dots to make a single regular sized 2x4. It would (or at least, could) add a lot of color. And I could use those special pieces to represent doors, windows, and the like. But for the moment, that is all in the distant future. Though, without a Pandemic, I likely would have put in a supply of the needed piece.}
SORT: It goes fast. There are only a few Toys that I can get excited about Six Months Later.
Let's think about Forgiveness & Mercy. {I really didn't get very far.}
FOOD: Cabbage Crack! It was very good.
8:57PM: 1x2-1
EYES: The Left is not doing well. I've been forgetting to close it for close work where only using one eye is more appropriate. In other news, my vision is as hazy as ever.
My third Multi-Vitamin on The Day, which is a bit light, based on my goals. I want to push them hard. I doubt either My Kidneys or Liver will be my Weak Link. So, let's push The System a little, give it whatever it might need.
EYES: Antihistamine Drops.
2020-07-24
Friday
TV Party
DREAM: The Airplanes run down a Monorail Track prior to take-off, hitting an upward nub at the end (that I called a hook), which launches The Planes into the air. There are four of these {In Dream Land} at The Airport by the San Mateo BART Station.
DREAM: Before going into The Building, I looked around to see where I was. So when I came out, I could continue on my way. But I knew I was In Dream Land enough to know it probably wouldn't matter. I wouldn't be coming back this way. And if I did, things would have changed, anyway.
WRITING: Working on The Data Dump. So, Obfuscating.
EYES: I'm on The Dorzo, doping continually {i.e. twice everyday, at morning and night}. Today, a bit of Antihistamine was thrown in, which doesn't seem to do much.
TALK: A TV Party, with talk of Magic (interesting) and The End Of The World, of which I'm pretty unconcerned and/or blase about. Done. Over. {Saving The World is a lost cause.} I'm sorry if that bothers you.
2020-07-25
Saturday
One More Day
One More Day
DREAM: The Old Man with The Disastrous Eyes is sort of hard to forget.
DREAM: The Parking at The Train Station was being expanded to fill acres and acres. It was so big, The Parking Lot needed Bus Service. Most remarkable is how I continued playing with The Dream long after I'd awakened, going so far as to drive around The Parking Lot all willy-nilly {skidding tires, hopping the whoop-de-do's, and so on}. My Mind as My Private Playground.
WRITING: Editing Gay For A Day.
EYES: Allergy Drops. A slight headache on application. A few minutes later the surface discomfort I'd been having all morning is greatly reduced. There's a sensation, an awareness of a slight burn. But better than before. I think Dorzo is causing some of the discomfort. I'm assuming Allergy over Cataract {as the cause of the fog} as the former is treatable.
EYES: The main thing is I don't think I care as much at the moment.
MUSIC: The usual suspects consisting of Forever Young, Nobody Knows, LSD Problem, Sing A Song
RANT: All of these, I believe, refer to Verbal Recordings. This one focused on Magical Thinking and Witchcraft.
I'm enjoying the Baseball Games, today.
WALK: Two Hours in The Hot Sun.
FEEL: Tired. Ready to Relax. Happily Content.
EYES: The blurriness is highly reminiscent of how things looked {as a child} after opening my eyes underwater in a chlorinated pool.
MUSE: Watching The Baseball, I started dreaming of being a Phenomenal Designated Hitter. No fielding ability. But consistent Home Runs... to the point of being intentionally walked... and beamed, which led to Full Body Armor on half my body. Oh, and I (so, this is all first person, as many of my daydreams are) was able to Steal Consistently. And when not At Bat, I was more than happy to sign an Autograph or two.
Before it was a word, I was Homeless. The old lingo was bum or hobo. Anyway, it has a strange appeal. It is a possibility if I go down. I will survive... or not. There is an adventure awaiting {and possibly, to be told} in the not.
I always feel better after eating. Well, unless I feel much worse.
MEDIA: Random Vine Compilations.
MEDIA: Man Down: Have I not mentioned this before?
2020-07-26
Sunday
And He Rested
DREAM: The Snake went from friendly to not, starting as something like a friend or a pet and slithering and biting at the end.
DREAM: Condensed Wine came in a carton that one opened up, expanded, and filled with water to double the quantity of Wine. Like Condensed Soup.
DREAM: Such A Great Pirate Saga. Though, considering how I reacted to Death, it's hard to believe I'm indifferent. I think we stole a boat. We definitely got boarded. Sorry for the lack of details. Great Epic doesn't do The Dream justice.
DREAM: We disagreed on The Mixing of The Music and the use of Plastic Brightly Colored Toy Guns at the door (of what I presume was a LARP Party). I don't even know why my advice was being solicited. Maybe, it wasn't.
DREAM: Upon waking, I realised that the Birthday Cake was decorated with My Money. So, there.
11:42AM: 15... over time.
EYES: Sometimes when My Eyes get really bad (like how Foggy they are now), it's sort of reassuring. It's proof that the annoyance is transitory. So maybe, it can get better than the current baseline. Or in other words, The Descent is not A Straight Line.
SORT: Three Promo Golf Balls. I Juggled as A Teenager; and then again, A Half-Dozen Years Back. As a teenager, the height was a Trio of Tennis Rackets. While later in life, I did Weighted Balls. If I had to guess, I'd say a 12lb Soft Shotput, 5lb Small Medicine Ball, and a Larose Ball all at once. I am not doing enough with My Muscles, these days. As to The Golf Balls, I never used them for anything. Keeping (and taking in the first place) was pure Pack Rat Behaviour.
SORT: It may seem silly to record such small transactions. But that is what this Tag is about. Also, I don't own that much. At one time (15+ Years Ago), the objective was to reduce my belongings to 1018 Items. But I already had less than that... excepting perhaps (but just perhaps) loose Paperclips or individual Pieces of Paper. Now, the total count is close to Several Hundred Items, assuming one counts LEGO's as a block (i.e. as One Item).
MEDIA: The Ads (when I watch Videos) are... um, pointless. First, I close my eyes or look away. Second, I have aged out of the majority of items. Candy Bars? I buy maybe five a year... excluding Hard Suckers and Pure Chocolate. But those aren't what's being advertised.
MUSIC: Pulsation PsyTrance: {Which at this point, I think is the word 'Pulsating' auto-corrected incorrectly.}
I'm a Good Slave. I always have to be doing something.
Ha! I'm past My Expiration Date.
2:58PM: All In!
MEDIA: The Blind Ring
SORT: Lewd Shot Glass. Hey, it's from Iceland.
EYES: I have Eyes that don't like what they see; and so, are rejecting the External World. At a literal interpretation, this just might mean Pollen.
MESCAL: He's kicking back in an easy chair, headphones on, listening to tunes, patting his belly, a big smile on his face... or maybe, that's me.
7:13PM: 1-1x1
MEDIA: The Florida Project
Let's think about Forgiveness & Mercy. {I really didn't get very far.}
FOOD: Cabbage Crack! It was very good.
8:57PM: 1x2-1
EYES: The Left is not doing well. I've been forgetting to close it for close work where only using one eye is more appropriate. In other news, my vision is as hazy as ever.
My third Multi-Vitamin on The Day, which is a bit light, based on my goals. I want to push them hard. I doubt either My Kidneys or Liver will be my Weak Link. So, let's push The System a little, give it whatever it might need.
EYES: Antihistamine Drops.
2020-07-24
Friday
TV Party
DREAM: The Airplanes run down a Monorail Track prior to take-off, hitting an upward nub at the end (that I called a hook), which launches The Planes into the air. There are four of these {In Dream Land} at The Airport by the San Mateo BART Station.
DREAM: Before going into The Building, I looked around to see where I was. So when I came out, I could continue on my way. But I knew I was In Dream Land enough to know it probably wouldn't matter. I wouldn't be coming back this way. And if I did, things would have changed, anyway.
WRITING: Working on The Data Dump. So, Obfuscating.
EYES: I'm on The Dorzo, doping continually {i.e. twice everyday, at morning and night}. Today, a bit of Antihistamine was thrown in, which doesn't seem to do much.
TALK: A TV Party, with talk of Magic (interesting) and The End Of The World, of which I'm pretty unconcerned and/or blase about. Done. Over. {Saving The World is a lost cause.} I'm sorry if that bothers you.
2020-07-25
Saturday
One More Day
One More Day
DREAM: The Old Man with The Disastrous Eyes is sort of hard to forget.
DREAM: The Parking at The Train Station was being expanded to fill acres and acres. It was so big, The Parking Lot needed Bus Service. Most remarkable is how I continued playing with The Dream long after I'd awakened, going so far as to drive around The Parking Lot all willy-nilly {skidding tires, hopping the whoop-de-do's, and so on}. My Mind as My Private Playground.
WRITING: Editing Gay For A Day.
EYES: Allergy Drops. A slight headache on application. A few minutes later the surface discomfort I'd been having all morning is greatly reduced. There's a sensation, an awareness of a slight burn. But better than before. I think Dorzo is causing some of the discomfort. I'm assuming Allergy over Cataract {as the cause of the fog} as the former is treatable.
EYES: The main thing is I don't think I care as much at the moment.
MUSIC: The usual suspects consisting of Forever Young, Nobody Knows, LSD Problem, Sing A Song
RANT: All of these, I believe, refer to Verbal Recordings. This one focused on Magical Thinking and Witchcraft.
I'm enjoying the Baseball Games, today.
WALK: Two Hours in The Hot Sun.
FEEL: Tired. Ready to Relax. Happily Content.
EYES: The blurriness is highly reminiscent of how things looked {as a child} after opening my eyes underwater in a chlorinated pool.
MUSE: Watching The Baseball, I started dreaming of being a Phenomenal Designated Hitter. No fielding ability. But consistent Home Runs... to the point of being intentionally walked... and beamed, which led to Full Body Armor on half my body. Oh, and I (so, this is all first person, as many of my daydreams are) was able to Steal Consistently. And when not At Bat, I was more than happy to sign an Autograph or two.
Before it was a word, I was Homeless. The old lingo was bum or hobo. Anyway, it has a strange appeal. It is a possibility if I go down. I will survive... or not. There is an adventure awaiting {and possibly, to be told} in the not.
I always feel better after eating. Well, unless I feel much worse.
MEDIA: Random Vine Compilations.
MEDIA: Man Down: Have I not mentioned this before?
2020-07-26
Sunday
And He Rested
DREAM: The Snake went from friendly to not, starting as something like a friend or a pet and slithering and biting at the end.
DREAM: Condensed Wine came in a carton that one opened up, expanded, and filled with water to double the quantity of Wine. Like Condensed Soup.
DREAM: Such A Great Pirate Saga. Though, considering how I reacted to Death, it's hard to believe I'm indifferent. I think we stole a boat. We definitely got boarded. Sorry for the lack of details. Great Epic doesn't do The Dream justice.
DREAM: We disagreed on The Mixing of The Music and the use of Plastic Brightly Colored Toy Guns at the door (of what I presume was a LARP Party). I don't even know why my advice was being solicited. Maybe, it wasn't.
DREAM: Upon waking, I realised that the Birthday Cake was decorated with My Money. So, there.
11:42AM: 15... over time.
EYES: Sometimes when My Eyes get really bad (like how Foggy they are now), it's sort of reassuring. It's proof that the annoyance is transitory. So maybe, it can get better than the current baseline. Or in other words, The Descent is not A Straight Line.
SORT: Three Promo Golf Balls. I Juggled as A Teenager; and then again, A Half-Dozen Years Back. As a teenager, the height was a Trio of Tennis Rackets. While later in life, I did Weighted Balls. If I had to guess, I'd say a 12lb Soft Shotput, 5lb Small Medicine Ball, and a Larose Ball all at once. I am not doing enough with My Muscles, these days. As to The Golf Balls, I never used them for anything. Keeping (and taking in the first place) was pure Pack Rat Behaviour.
SORT: It may seem silly to record such small transactions. But that is what this Tag is about. Also, I don't own that much. At one time (15+ Years Ago), the objective was to reduce my belongings to 1018 Items. But I already had less than that... excepting perhaps (but just perhaps) loose Paperclips or individual Pieces of Paper. Now, the total count is close to Several Hundred Items, assuming one counts LEGO's as a block (i.e. as One Item).
MEDIA: The Ads (when I watch Videos) are... um, pointless. First, I close my eyes or look away. Second, I have aged out of the majority of items. Candy Bars? I buy maybe five a year... excluding Hard Suckers and Pure Chocolate. But those aren't what's being advertised.
MUSIC: Pulsation PsyTrance: {Which at this point, I think is the word 'Pulsating' auto-corrected incorrectly.}
I'm a Good Slave. I always have to be doing something.
Ha! I'm past My Expiration Date.
2:58PM: All In!
MEDIA: The Blind Ring
SORT: Lewd Shot Glass. Hey, it's from Iceland.
EYES: I have Eyes that don't like what they see; and so, are rejecting the External World. At a literal interpretation, this just might mean Pollen.
MESCAL: He's kicking back in an easy chair, headphones on, listening to tunes, patting his belly, a big smile on his face... or maybe, that's me.
7:13PM: 1-1x1
MEDIA: The Florida Project
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