Ooh... Pizza

I have been thinking about pizza for a couple months now. Today, it came to me. Of its own free will. I had just headed over to visit a friend and a guy who is an old buddy of my former boss was coming out of the pizza place with two large pizzas. He offered both of us a slice. I told him that I had a piece of fudge to eat with my coffee already, but he said that I had to have a piece of pizza before I ate the fudge... So I couldn't say no. Damn... it was good... Ah... gooey cheese, loaded with a thick underlay of meat... and a zesty tomato sauce... Sigh! I even got some on my face...

Ah... food...

I am reminded of this as well as this:

Rough night...

In a very spacious shoe store or gallery of some sort with floor to ceiling windows, looking down at some point only to find out that I was wearing a mismatched pair of skin-toned sandals.

A Middle-Eastern or Indian woman, flawless skin and beautiful hands, with young kids assisting her in stealing what I thought were little box speakers from a car and loading them into her van. Me stopping to explain to her why this was wrong. She returned them and one of the kids handed me a Toonie and Loonie.

John Malkovich in the driver's seat, me next to him. He starts the car, puts it in drive, and as it starts moving forward, jumps out and says "your turn".

Cats. Fluffy cats. One psycho spazzy trying to jump all over the place and the other wise old one nestled under a blanket.

In a tropical jungle or rainforest with some Asian karate stars (or something) trekking down a treacherous mountainside on donkeys, trying to help a local tribe of people resurrect a large ancient statue from the lake at the bottom of the hill.

 

 

I think that was all. Surprisingly though, upon waking, I felt as though I had rested. Amazing... that I remembered this much, which is rare... and that I actually felt rested, even rarer.

I spoke too soon...

 

There weren't knots .... yet... I should have known they'd come back. I don't know what it is... I find myself desperately wanting to cling to something... anything... My forehead resting in the palm of my hand as if that will hold my head together. My hands neatly folded in my lap... one hand squeezing the other as if to offer reassurance. Trying to find a memory to hold on to. Something. But there is nothing. The silence and the ringing in my ears. I must remember to breathe. Sometimes I forget.

Sing me songs you know will make me smile...

(Brought a tear to my eye tonight.)

Just a beautiful ballad from a CD I pulled out of a "getting rid of" box to listen to tonight. Yet again a song that has more meaning now than it did then... hence the tear.

(Yes, I am going to try to sleep now.)

Update 1pm: Something about part of the lyrics reminded me of something else... something that I had read. I went to see if my memory served me correctly, and rather eerily, it did.

The magic of music...

... can put you somewhere or pull you out from where you are.

Last night I had pulled a few CDs to listen to and for the life of me, I couldn't really remember hardly any of the songs. A couple yes, but most just seemed only marginally familiar. So, when I went agoogling for links, I found a song that I DO remember by one of the bands... Great song. Of course, clearly it is the percussive and vocal elements but ... not the lyrics this time... (heh). Ah... um... don't watch the video.
 

 

The strange thing is that I just went looking through my CDs... again... the alphabetized drawer AND two of the "get rid of" boxes... I found three of their CDs, but none of them has this song on it. And... well... that would be one of the many mysteries of the innerworkings of my mind.

The wait of nothing...

The past few days I've been hungry... really hungry... Not completely ravenous, but just barely shy of that. I am not sure what it is, but it seems to be tied in with the nights starting to get colder and the change of season. I also noticed that I have been more inclined to listen to older music again, stuff that I hadn't heard in a long while. The heavier stuff. Speaking of heavy... that also seems to be a personal theme as of late as well. Not dreadfully dull, dark and dreary ... just plain ole heavy. That damn weight of nothing again... or the wait of nothing.

 

In some regards I have regained focus, but I know that that focus will not take me anywhere. The rest of me... my mind... continues to swirl around chaotically beneath the calm surface. To weep or to scream seems to be the order of the day, but neither quite fits. Silence it is. Silence it shall be. I've been trying to fight that feeling again... that there is nothing here... that I was not meant to be here. I'm too old to be falling asleep with tears in my eyes. At least I've somehow managed to curtail that for the most part. Is there such a thing as middle-aged angst? Maybe it is just the lunar alignment or something weird like that. At least my stomach isn't in knots this time. It behooves me to say that I may be in need of comfort and reassurance, and I know that this does not come in human form.

Army of Me

 

Not quite sure why this song was in my head. I still like it after all these years. Not exactly a classic, but still.

(Yes, I had (have) a variety of musical tastes.) I vaguely recall her as the singer from the Sugarcubes before she went solo. The only song I recall from that earlier time was this. Strangely enough, it turns out to be yet another one from that random year which I found myself in on Saturday night.

Ooh... pretty...

 

Hmm... I've never used cake mix before, but I may have to try this at some point once I get the oven fixed. These are pretty cool looking, even though I'm not a huge fan of bright, happy colours. (I found this video after I watched that "It's so fluffy" clip for the umpteenth time.)

 
This guy kind of creeped me out and I couldn't figure out who he reminded me of, but then it came to me.

Thief

 

Never knew the name of this song. This is one of those bands that I could listen to over and over again, but never really paid much attention to the titles and none to the videos, until tonight when I went looking for a link. I shall just say that simplicity can be very effective.

 

Oddly enough, listening to it again brought to heart mind a matter explained in a simple and effective manner in something I read earlier today.

Completely (crazy?) random tidbits...

It is amazing how much more you can fit in drawers when you neatly fold things.

Did you know that you can seriously hurt yourself doing housecleaning in the nude?

 

Something is terribly wrong when you are cleaning up a room, tidying up a closet and drawer full of clothes and you have this almost uncontrollable urge to bring out the iron and ironing board simply because there is enough open floor space to do so.

 

It is rather funny how one little bug can set off a chain reaction.

 

The word "posit" came to mind the other day. I never used to posit things in conversation. I would pretty much keep the ponderings and wonderings to myself. I have not yet determined if this is a good thing or not.

Arguing in a loud and foul manner does not agree with me. This is one of the perks of living alone. Do you ever notice that being around certain people can suck the life right out of you?

Had a few songs in my head tonight so went looking for the CDs... Turns out that three of the four had songs from the same time period... 1988. There was White Lion, Information Society, and the other I actually posted a few days ago. The fourth song was by Crazytown from 2000. Yep, completely different musical genres... that's me.

Oh... and found this gem on the sidebar two links after that last song. Couldn't resist posting it... (Must also remember to email it to big bro and a couple other buddies.)

If you are wondering whether or not I have gone completely bonkers, please refer to the title of this post. (But then... perhaps it is possible.)

Space... the final frontier...

Letters... good old fashioned letters... The kind you write with a pen and paper. I've mentioned this before, probably even with the exact same words. I had forgotten about a site that I had come across quite some time ago, devoted to same, and am not sure why I didn't bookmark it, but I wrote about it a few days ago. I find it interesting that it should come back into my spectrum of thought again, taking into consideration this extremely thorough and thoughtful letter, and my post a short time ago called "Our home". Although that letter is from 1970, it is perhaps disconcerting or even sad that the same question to which it responds is still being asked today, forty-two years later, and why, in essence, no great leaps have been made in those forty some odd years since that first giant one. (I said "in essence"... I know there have been some advancements.) Hmm... I just thought of something... The heart looks at what is right in front of it. The mind however, must take into consideration and deal with the past and present, but look to the future in order to make progress... to boldly go where no man has gone before.

The strange thing about this is that I was thinking of simply deleting this instead of posting it... But this changed my mind.

Counting cookies...

Kinda sad...

Baby it's cold outside...

 

Well it IS cold outside right now. A little chilly in here too, so after my adventures in housecleaning earlier tonight, I am now back to being ensconced within my fluffy duvet. I guess sleep would be a good idea about now, this fine morning.

To ----

by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

One word is too often profaned      

For me to profane it,

One feeling too falsely disdained      

For thee to disdain it;

One hope is too like despair      

For prudence to smother,

And pity from thee more dear      

Than that from another.   

I can give not what men call love,      

But wilt thou accept not

The worship the heart lifts above      

And the Heavens reject not,—

The desire of the moth for the star,      

Of the night for the morrow,

The devotion to something afar      

From the sphere of our sorrow?

***

In one of the boxes of books that I sorted through a while back, there was one called "Poems that Live Forever", that I had brought downstairs. I guess at some point in the time since then, I read through it and had some pages bookmarked. (I don't dogear book books.) One of those pages had this poem by Shelley on it. Hovering in the back of my mind, twitching to be posted, but no way to do so, I shall simply say that it does well encapsulate my thoughts on the word that shall not be spoken.

 

Fits and starts

 

That's just how it feels. Having been lost in the netherworld of my head for a time, struggling to formulate thoughts. Actually for that matter, not having any thoughts at all at times. At least the "heavy" seems to be gone... No longer this oppressive weight pressing down on my soul. I liken it now to a ... I don't know... You know when you get X-rayed at the dentist and they put that protective blanket over you? Kind of like that, but all over the body. The head is free to move, but you have to keep it still. So just not feelin' it and then... bam... five posts in one day. And then... back to blah. As I said... fits and starts.

At least I'm breathing.

 

***

 

I fell into a rather deep sleep today. At... get this... 7PM!!! Slept for almost two hours. Too bad I can't fall asleep like that when it is actually bedtime... or... when I am actually IN bed. (I fell asleep in the laundry room. No, not on the floor, there's a couch in there.) I have had a couple days of solid sleep, but again... it mostly comes chopped into sections.

***

To live or to die. Dying seems the more feasible choice, but living has more options available. I still haven't quite figured out what those options are.

My head feels as though it is going to implode.

***

I've been thinking about ... pizza... Thin-crust, just cheese, or maybe a New York Deli... It has been on my mind for about a month now. I wants it.

***

I just went completely blank.


 

Them there eyes...

Was visiting a friend today (yesterday now). Their dog, getting on in years, wasn't feeling very well and she looked tired and sad. I was scratching her head and felt an odd cramping type sensation in my fingers and it sort of briefly travelled through part of my hand. The feeling lasted for a few minutes afterwards. It was strange.

There's no such thing...

as too much Metallica.

I must be getting old. I just realized the other day that the only way I can truly listen to Metallica is lying down with my eyes closed. If I am doing anything else at the time, I become too distracted by it. Twenty years ago I used to be able to do accounting tallies and calculations whilst listening to them. How times have changed.

A rather funny thing came to mind on thinking about this. Very near the beginning of my blog journey but a mere three years ago March, I recall a comment I made in response to another. I think I said something along the lines of "There's no such thing as too much Metallica." I now have to rethink that. This withdrawal into mine own head in the past week seems to have coincided with the renewed listening of said music. I had put "And Justice For All" in the player (following the Black album) and found myself unable to focus on anything else. Even Sudoku was suffering. I found myself singing along to "One" and it was distracting me from the numbers. For some reason "To Live is to Die" brought a tear to my eye. I was heading into a Metallica coma. Far beyond the lullaby and the comfort that it used to provide, perhaps it was just too much. What has happened to my world?

Sure, they've made me cry.

I went agoogling for a link and they made me giggle.

And then... I found something to show why I love these guys. (Yes, I think I've always had a wee bit of a crush on James Hetfield. I have finally come out and admitted that. Oh... but only AFTER he cut his hair.)


Good lord... look what I found.

Ooh...

Chocolate Ice Cream
sprinkled with
instant Coffee crystals

Yum.

Taken back and aback

Considering how empty my memory is, it is rather interesting that there is a specific incident from high school that I actually remember... at least... parts of it.

I think the class was English Literature. We were reading ... I'm not sure now... Macbeth or Hamlet or something else. Maybe it was just plain English class. I don't remember. Now that I think about it, I don't think if was Shakespeare. Anyways... when I received my graded assignment back from the teacher, he asked me if I had received help from Mr. X, another teacher... No, I said, taken aback... shocked even... Why would I get help from a teacher on interpreting something I had read? That bugged the hell out of me. I know I got an "A", but I can't remember if it was 98 or 100 per cent.

This came to mind because the other day I was nudged back to visit a site devoted to letters... plain ole written letters... correspondence if you will. There were a few that I was going to write about, but then another one caught my fancy... It was a letter written by a teacher to an author, and her response, the latter which is where my kinship lies. When I went googling for further information, the thing that struck me yet again was... she and I share the same birthday.

On a sidenote, I was rooting through a box of artwork and written stuff from high school wondering if I might find one of my English assignments, and I came across a four and a half page essay (not school related) on selfishness, humankind, and the earth, among other things. A bunch of personal crap mostly, but then, near the end, there was this:

"I know that some people can quit while they're ahead, while others just have to make fools of themselves by going too far. I guess fools should never be prominent people and prominent people shouldn't be fools."

I wrote that when I was sixteen.

White Roses

 

Iceberg roses from my garden the other day. Yes, I am totally aware of the black spots on the leaves. Yes, I am aware that blackspot is  a disease. I was thinking of not using the picture because of that, but... upon further thought, and considering the previous post, I think it seems fitting.

  

*****

The white rose represents Unity,

Virtue, Honour and Reverence,

and is a symbol of Remembrance.

It is considered an expression of
spiritual Love and Respect.


*****

 

To honour the fallen since last time:

NZ (5)

UK (3)

U.S. (North Carolina (2), Massachusetts (2),

       Pennsylvania,   Oregon,  California (9),

       New York (3),  Virginia,   Michigan (3),

       Wyoming,  Idaho,  Georgia,  Texas (3), 

       Florida (2), Ohio

Something on my mind...

On August 10, 2012, six US Marines were killed. Two separate attacks, same province (Helmand) in Afghanistan. Not IED or RPG related, both taking place while on base. Three were killed by an Afghan teenage boy. Three were killed by an Afghan Police Commander and his cohorts, not by someone masquerading in an Afghan Police uniform either. In the second incident, from what I have read around the news, they were at a dinner meeting to discuss security measures with their Afghan counterparts and were shot and killed by them, who fled from the scene. Both incidents are under investigation.

This isn't anything new, but it is becoming more blatant. It also isn't just U.S. troops... British, Australian (not just one incident either), French, German. There's more, but those are just the links that I found rather hastily this morning. I searched out the ones that I remembered hearing about in the past year or so, and I wanted to use different news sources for each.

Hmm... I need to say something here. I'm not going to vent on the first incident however. The second one I have thought a great deal about. This was a 29 year old Capt, a 31 year old Gunnery Sgt and a 27 year old Staff Sgt... USMC... Look at those ranks. These weren't some fresh, green, newbies. There was obviously a sense of trust placed in their company and confidence in themselves. "Come... sit my friend. Eat." This was a deliberate and calculated murder. In my humble opinion of course. That is all.

Sunday sleepy stroll

Heck no, I didn't go for a stroll this morning. These are from the other day.

Unsleep interrupted...

Last night I went to bed at around 4:30AM. I was awakened at 6:50. By the damn phone. I did answer it and I did manage to sleep a wee bit more, but damn. I have a hard enough time sleeping as it is, let alone with unnecessary uncalled for interruptions.

Classic sappy

Had a Cheap Trick song in my head the other night. Not sure how it is that I remember it, as when I went agoogling, I found out that it is from 1977. I wasn't even a teenager yet. Anyways... I thought that I had posted one of their other songs before, but I couldn't find it on the blog. It is rather... sappy... and I didn't realize that it was from so long ago. 1988... Still a great song... I'd say it has held up very well.

I am absolutely positive that I posted it before, but I have searched the blog using a variety of words, and it is nowhere to be found. Oh well...  at least it's not a sucky sappy song.

Just call me Giggles...

Was watching that, chuckling, thinking wha? Good thing that in life, you don't have to wait 'til the very end to laugh. (And I did Gandalf I did.) My thoughts and a virtual box of chocolate covered marshmallow cookies to Harvey over at Bad Example, wherefrom I got that video.

Laughing feels good. Hadn't really thought much on that before this year. Funny yesterday when I watched that the first time I was thinking about laughing so hard that you could die. Is that even possible? Well, yeah... I guess... heart attack or asphyxiation. This got me to thinking about the things that make me laugh.

I was quite sure I posted that here before, so I went rooting around but couldn't find it. Now that I've had time to think about it, it sort of makes me wistful for that one fluffy thing that I can't have.

Oh... just call me Giggles. (Curtsy to the Borderline Sociopathic Blog for Boys for that one.)

(Considering where I've been lately in my head, this may be a momentary fit of madness. I'm not sure.)

Struggling

"I have things to say... to write... but I just haven't been able to lately. It is as though I've been in a haze. My focus comes back intermittently, but I can't seem to sustain it for long enough."

I don't know what is going on. This is different than before. I've written about the emptiness... I've shared the emptiness... but now... the emptiness is gone... and there is... nothing. I know I've tried to explain this here previously. That phrase "Have you lost your mind?" has sort of been a running joke for me in the past couple years, but now it seems eerily appropriate in its most literal sense.

It's 5AM

... and I'm not sleeping. Oh... but I should be... My eyes are very, very heavy now. It would appear that once again sleep comes as dawn arises. I hope so anyways... We shall see when my head hits the pillow. Good night morning.

This sums it up best...

"... I seem to have withdrawn inside my head. Regular programming should resume soon."

(My response on being unable to respond to an email.)

A dream of illumination

Two years ago about this time, I was in the midst of my worst insomnia phase, which if I recall correctly, lasted several months, with but perhaps 1 1/2 to 2 1/2 hours of sleep a day. Occasionally I may have made it to 3 hours, but that was rare. I don't know why, but I specifically remember a dream from that time, one which provided me with a completely serene feeling. I had never had a dream like it in my life... ever. Its content was clear and vivid, positive and comforting. This was what I had written about it:

August 3, 2010

With my severe lack of sleep over the past two months, I don’t believe I had been making it to the REM portion of the sleep cycle for over a month, and haven’t had recollection of any dreams at all, until today. I remember three, but the one in the middle is the most detailed, which I recall as follows:

I was walking towards a shimmering ball room, which I perceived to be in an ice palace of sorts because of its diamond-like luminescence, where people seemed to be floating about as they were dancing so effortlessly, swirling over the dance floor. I know that I was late arriving, I was NOT wearing black, my colour of choice, and that I was looking for someone. As I was passing through the entranceway that seemed to be lined with glass and faded light, I noticed to my right a young man who seemed rather sad, sitting on a bench. He looked familiar, but I didn’t recognize him. I was going to ask him a question, but didn’t. I thought I was looking for someone in particular, but perhaps that was not the case – If I had been, I know that I would have gone in to walk around and see if I could find whomever it was I was looking for. I turned to walk away and found myself in a room, with the same subdued light, as if the walls were illuminated from within. I don’t think I was sad or tired, but there was a chaise in the middle of the room, so for some reason, I went to lie down, on my side, facing away from the door, and closed my eyes. I sensed someone had come in the room, so I held out my hand without looking and said “please stay with me”. I don’t know if this was the person I was looking for, the young man I had seen on the bench, or someone else, but he took my hand and said “I knew that was what you wanted.”

Of Pumpernickel and Peaches

As I have said before, my memory from the earlier time of my life is scant, to say the least. Oftentimes the pieces aren't even scenes or vignettes, but rather just snapshots, as if I only remember the specific moment in time, or saw an actual photo wherein my whole memory of it is based. Of what I do recall, music and food seem to be the focal points, or triggers of those memories.

One such memory is of... Pumpernickel Bread. It was a small square loaf of a dark, rather dense and perhaps almost chewy bread from the grocery store. I liked it toasted, with butter, eaten with mom's canned peaches. On a side note, I remember when I got a bit older, I used to help mom in the kitchen when she was canning. After the peaches had spent sufficient time in the hot water bath, I would stand at the kitchen sink and carefully peel off the skin for her. I don't think that I was allowed to cut them in half and remove the stone though. (The peaches were fresh and firm, cut neatly in half and the stone removed cleanly.) Ah... fresh peaches... More memories flooding back. Every summer we used to take a family road trip so that mom could pick up tonnes of peaches and tomatoes for canning, and we'd get to take home a big glass jug of local Apple Cider and bottles of different fruit syrup for pancakes. It was always super hot when we went. I was just remarking the other day to an old friend about this. I don't remember any one trip in its entirety, but I remember the scenery, the highway, and the food. Mom would pack snacks and lunch in a cooler. The only thing I recall is... Brownies Fried Chicken (our local version of KFC) and... the riceballs she used to make ... Yum!

Oh... I got sidetracked... Pumpernickel Bread... I was at the local bakery checking out... stuff... and noticed a new bread sitting in the display... It was... Pumpernickel... Expensive, at $4.29, but I had to. And besides, it was a rather large loaf... not like the one we used to get from the grocery store. Anyways... mom's canned peaches just can't be simulated by the canned stuff you get at the store. (Is canning a dead art?) But... what I discovered was pretty damn good... Pumpernickel bread toasted, with peanut butter and... Orange Marmalade. Sigh.

Agenda Pushing Toad

I've never had the pleasure of thinking that of anyone, nor would I ever be considered as such, and I doubt I will ever be so inclined or have the opportunity to do so. Of this, I am glad.

Once again, the first three words from the Random Word Generator were a gem. (Oh...good lord... now this site seems to be down too.)

I had saved my last selection but had no idea whatsoever how on earth I would use it. They were, in this order:

Opus
Objective
Correcting
Crap
Indicating
Bucket

Yes... seriously.

Go figure...

A week ago I had posted a couple funny pics from a new site I had found. Yesterday I visited there again and had a few more laughs. Today however?

The funny thing? What I said here. Completely, unintentionally ominous.

Meaningful

White Hydrangea

Friendship, Devotion and Understanding

Why Facebook made me laugh...

... and shake my head...

(Click the image if your eyes are as bad as mine.)

This is just one set of notifications from a list of notifications that you can receive via email when someone posts something on your page. My favourite is the last one. I wonder how many people actually go through all the settings. Seriously, there are tonnes of things that are defaulted to be there that you can change/remove. Wouldn't it have been easier at the top of the main list to have one simple "Comment notification... Yes... No..."?

How about you?

(WARNING: You are about to be hit by a blunt object.)

They are still there. They still get shot at and blown up on occasion. You just don't ever hear about it, or you don't pay attention. Some die, but some come back not quite complete as they used to be. That is why I have that Soldiers' Angels Project VALOUR IT thing up there. You might think "bah... why should I care?" If it was your brother or sister who put on that uniform and came back a little torn up and broken, wouldn't you want to help out in their recovery? If you could? You might think ... "Why bother?", or "A laptop? Why would they need a laptop?" A voice-activated laptop? Other than the obvious, if you've ever gone for a period of time where you or part of your body has been rendered useless, try no fingers or hands or arms, or use of same, and you're lying somewhere in a hospital bed in pain or on meds or bored out of your gourd and your buddies are thousands of miles away, or your old friends and family across the country?

Oh yeah... I'm Canadian, I know our guys are gone (or mostly gone) from there, and this is an American organization. With the drawdown, in a few years most of the countries that sent troops there will be gone. This is for here and now. This has nothing to do with me at all. Where I am right now in my life, I'm not in a position to help anyone. This is about all I can do, typing from my laptop with both my hands and all my fingers, sitting on my ass with both my legs. How about you?

If you are familiar with this fundraiser, pop over here to see how the teams are doing.

(ps: This is not directed at the five regular readers, but rather to anyone who happens to stumble upon my blog.)

Infectious tunes

Just a song that was in my slightly zombified head this morning... Of course it would have to be yet another rather infectious tune from the... 80s.

Speaking of infectious... hadn't heard this one in a long time.

Oh... and this is not the version of this song that I remember. Avert your eyes. Nothing worse than the 80s than the 70s. Gah! Orange!

(Music... helps get me out of my head.)

Nauseous

At some point whilst I was writing the previous post, I honestly thought it was going to be my last. At some point, I actually felt like vomiting. Literally. I haven't gone to bed yet either. I still don't feel right. But then I realize it wasn't just because I wrote it, but that I was having an allergic reaction. To something I ate. I could feel the tiny bumps on my back and arms, my throat at first itchy and then constricted. It has happened a few times before, but I hadn't yet been able to pinpoint what causes the reaction. I have a better idea now.

Other than that, my eyes feel slightly bloated, but look fine, and I'm sleepy, but something is keeping me up. There's something else that is bothering me in the back of my mind. A breach of trust. It is very rare that I get pissed off. And... that... did. Several hours have gone by and that has now passed. There is nothing I can do to correct the damage done. I should just go back to not saying anything to anyone. Now all I can do is worry.

Verbalizing the internalizing

Have you ever been to that point in your life when you take a look around you, at your surroundings, the people in your life, who you are and your place amidst it all, and you ask yourself ... why am I here? For what purpose... to what end?

That is as far as I got on that, and let it sit for a bit. I've been here before, so I thought of just deleting it, but I didn't.

And then, I did some catching up, as I had been falling a little behind in visiting my usual haunts, and from one of my regular reads, I linked over to this beautifully written piece which provided me with answers to questions, albeit in a rather roundabout manner, that I have been internalizing for some time. For a brief moment, it made me feel small, insignificant and inadequate. Perhaps the most telling would be... inferior. It brought tears to my eyes with the stark realization of everything that I am not, which, oddly enough, I've always known. But ... contrary to what one might think, this is not a negative reaction. It made me feel something where there was nothing before. It made me feel something on a visceral level. I don't envy other people's abilities. I don't want what other people have. There is nothing that I would devour voraciously. (Not even bacon.)... Oh... wait... a burger, yes... Eggo Waffles... This is where I get side-tracked. When life is simplified, food will do that to you. Where was I? My accomplishments are few, if that, and my journey, next to non-existent. My knowledge is little, my understanding beyond my ken. My house is a mess, but I can die knowing that I am a perfectly fine example of a human being. I just didn't have a place in the world.

(Thanks to an old blogger buddy for that unintentional nudge to channel my inner emo. I have not had the opportunity to use that term before. So thank you for that as well. Never thought I would.) 

Unfocused...

This I know.

Like my eyes and my life,

That's just the way it goes.

Pause

Me: Art imitates life.

Little-Evil mini-me: That's not art.

Me:  I know... sucks doesn't it.

(Insert evil laugh here.)

Even the littlest thing...

... can make a difference.

for most, it won't be a firing pin.

Lend an ear...

Bend an ear...

The day after...

This has been at the back of my mind waiting for a voice, but I could find none. Regardless the subject matter, my mind is constantly weighing things. I think that is the way I have always been. Most of my life, I didn't really say much of anything because the things I was thinking could be weighed internally and did not need to be spoken.

100,000 people killed in one day.

80,000 people killed three days later.

Devastating. Horrific.

Necessary?

As I sit here thinking on this, I can hear the distant roar of thunder. It is getting closer. None of those people knew what was coming. They didn't know what hit them until they felt their flesh burning, or perhaps they did know for a split second, before their bodies disintegrated. The thunder has stopped.

It was war.

As a nation, were they stupid or evil? They declared war and allied themselves with an evil empire. What did they hope to accomplish? Were they simply men desperately clinging to a warrior culture, following a code which they felt would bring them glory and honour? I can admire the tenacity of an honourable warrior, but there is no honour in something that which is inherently evil.

But wait... did I just answer my own questions? Did I weigh it properly?

A necessary evil?

I know there is a quote that I could insert here, but I shan't.

I went rooting around for some links. If nothing else, I recommend the Gallery below.

Life magazine.

Gallery 

Information

Our home...

It's beautiful...
(must view in full-screen)

So beautiful it looks fake, doesn't it? It is a time-lapse compilation of actual NASA photographs. Upon looking for further information, I also came across this, which is rather cool too.

The 80s wasn't all that bad...

Wait... what?

Had an 80s flashback again... prompted by a song by a Canadian band, which was posted over at one of my regular blog reads a few days back. (And it hasn't gone out of my head yet.) I don't know if I ever knew that it was that popular in the States, but I guess it must have been.

Well, then the next one that popped into my head was this:

And shortly thereafter, this catchy number, another by a Canadian band, got stuck in my brain. I am not posting the video... because... gah. I am starting to think that it helps to purge these things.

Chow Yun Martin

No... that's just the name I came up with after seeing this. (I only made it to 1:50 before stopping.)

Mmm... chocolate milkshake...

Had a pretty rough night. And no, there was no partying nor consumption of alcoholic beverages or other legal or illegal stimulants of any kind. Further to my Unsleep, I shall just say that it was something akin to being a lactose intolerant milk-drunk baby with a hangover.

Unsleep

Woke up once again feeling as though I had slept for a few hours, only to find that only about 1 hour had passed. That was 3AM ish... At least that is what my eyes saw. I went back to what seemed like a half awake sleep with a dream for what seemed to be five minutes and woke up to find that it was 4AM... Got up, turned lights on and felt woozy, staggering my way to the bathroom, like a half-dead zombie. This is not sleep... This is some sort of time-altered petrified version of sleep. Argggghhhhh....

Bicycle built for...

Just a random bike on the street one day. I've never seen a seat quite like that before, but thought it was funny because of the one that caught my eye before.

Great, now all I can think about is...

... bacon. And it's 2AM and I'm hungry and I should be trying to sleep.

I've seen a few of these before, but I believe they were ALL meat and bacon, and absolutely yummy looking. Now this... this looks tasty (it has carbs too!!!)... and appetizing UNTIL they start eating it. (Oh... and there is alcohol and sweary bits in it.) 

I stand corrected...

I had previously defined a certain word by THIS... but I have today been shown a more meaningful meaning... Oh, the horror...

From here. (Yes, it would seem that I have found a new ride at the playground, although I get the feeling that it may be brief.)

Losing its charm?

You cannot create a plan if you do not first establish your goal. That just came to mind, but now that I think upon it, I don't quite agree with it under all circumstances, however, it sounds good. Me... I never had a plan... Never had a direction. Never had a compass. But then, what good is a compass without knowing the direction in which you wish to head. Hmm...
 

From here.

Found a new humour link by way of a Facebooky friend. There's some stuff that cracked me up big time but that I just can't post here. The one above is rather apropros, considering where I am right now and that fairly recently in a conversation I said that "... the internet seems to be losing its charm for some reason."

And how do I spend my evenings?

Well, not every evening...

Oh... and no weird dreams last night... but not much sleep.

Oh... and this wouldn't be complete without ...

Laughing is good for the soul.

Scream

I was in what I thought to be the old house, but the interior was different, more like an empty castle, and it was rather dark, lit only by sparse candlelight. There were a couple people who I thought were family members with me. There seemed to be a strange, lingering evil presence with us, but that which I somehow knew was able to pass between the others in the house. I was then standing with two people, talking to one of them who had a piece of paper in her hand. Everything seemed to be fine for the moment, but ... tense... I thought we were discussing instructions of some sort, but as that person was reading from it, I saw and felt something coming towards me... flying at me... from out of her face as she spoke. Her face, but with dead black eyes and her hands reaching out to grasp my throat. My voice was gone. I woke up trying to scream or do something with my vocal chords... I don't quite know, but my throat was tight. I turned the light on... It was 3:38AM. I had gone to bed around 2:30. It seemed as though hours had passed.

(This was from Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. Wasn't going to post it because it was intense and weird.)

Soldiers' Angels "controversy"

Have you seen this photograph? Very moving... heart-wrenching. It is a famous photograph which I had seen maybe a year and a half ago or so. Of course I am not posting it because I don't have the photographer's permission to do so. Recently it came to my attention that there was some sort of controversy with the man who took that photograph and the organization known as Soldiers' Angels. If you are wondering, yes, it is their widget for Project VALOUR IT that I have up there at the top of the page, and which I have written about before. The first time was here, and then again here. There are a few others as well, but I think these two are the most pertinent. Anyways, when I first heard about this "controversy" or the denigration of the services that they provide, or the functionality of the organization itself, my first thought wasn't "I wonder if it is true", but rather, "Why would anyone do that?" Originally I read about it on one of my regular blog reads, and then it popped up on another, so I went agoogling for the source, which I found HERE. (There are some lovely flourishes to a rather mean-spirited bent.) To refute those claims, here is the very informative and well-addressed response from Soldiers' Angels.

I highly recommend reading the links, and see what you think.

Sitemeter Server Snafu???

Well... since Sitemeter changed servers, something is wrong with the way it picks up visitors. Now it appears that it is recognizing one universal IP address for me and several of my regular and irregular visitors, much like the "googlebot" ones. I know nuthin... Before, I had it set to ignore visits from my own IP address. I went in and checked and they added an option to ignore visits from "this browser", so I just did that, but now am wondering if it will then ignore everyone who visits using the same browser, or just me. Again... I know nuthin...

Can't really complain, after all it is a free service, but still... As I said I hardly get any visitors, so it is was a little cool at first glance to see the IP addresses I recognized. Maybe they just changed it so that people will upgrade to a paid service?

Here's a screenshot:

Symbols in stone

I never noticed this before... I've been here a few times, but for some reason never saw it. How could I miss a huge concrete slab like that? Maybe it was the time of day that accentuated the raised work. I don't know. I think I've always had a thing for crosses and stone though, so it is odd that I didn't.

Not at a cemetery...

... but at the footings here.