My mind fluctuates between happiness and terror now that I’m blogging in a Universe that I recently shared with people I know. It’s always been much scarier sharing with people I know. It’s one thing to read about a person’s troubles on screen, and form your version of the story in your head, but when you know the person and were not fully aware of the unspoken stories in my life, I think it’s a whole other thing. For me, it’s a huge terror not only to anticipate a bad reaction in my mind, and feel like I have failed. I have hurt in my body just as if I witnessed the reactions for real.
In other words, in the wait between share and a reply, I have flipped back and forth between two opising emotions over nothing. My imagination creates positive imaginatry stories of how I may be percieved. Immediatly following, it creates negative stories of how people may react. I can’t deny that it’s a pretty huge deal to discover somebody you know that shows no signs of being a partier, is in fact, a pretty heavy drug user / addict with a real problem nobody knew about. And then learn it’s not just weed.
I honestly have no idea how people react. I know earlier this year after the first intervention reveal to my family on the West Coast and a few other close friends that still were not aware, or aware of the extent. I’m almost always pleasently surprised at how amaing people can be. At least the people I keep within reach of my Universe.
So Here is an example. I type these blogs as I think. I pause and type pretty close to the speed of my thoughts,and for the most part, I treat the words I type like a script. I type the same way that I talk, or at least that is the style I’ve chosen. It allows for me to not only write more free flowing, but it often surprises me with revelantions and lightbulb moments because I hear the words as I read them onto the keys.
I lost interest somewhere in the middle of that., and it ended well.
They also provide an excellent source of — THey are also extrememly useful in seeing live, how my brain works, and helps not only my personal journey of self awareness, but perhaps other people as well. SO I’m back on thehappy side again, which was the main point of this piece.
I am happy with the desision, and it is my hope that I will continue to share in small bursts until the first person becomes a fan. After my hype and happiness, I am reminded that so far, not one single person has actually read more than… and that’s it. This is a black hole blog. I send people to it, and I never speak to that person again, until i do, but the blog is never mentioned.
People have praised me as a good writer, but that is avoiding a review.
I will say it’s been a weird thing to adjsut to, and perhaps the reason I’ve been so slow at sharing up until Tuesday. The William Hung syndrome nags at me.
If you don’t share your thoughts, then they remain perfectly flaw free.
It is only through a second set of eyes that offer make it real. A witness. An alternative. If you’re universe is all created by you without sharing, then you have no way of knowing whether you can sing like Beyonce, or William Hung.
It is a fear that goes away if you just never share.
However, sharing into a silent void is just — just weird.
I will try harder to write — naww.. I’ll just keep doing this. I progress at Glacial speeds, Pre-80s Glaciers.
It’s9:40pm on a Thursday. I tried going to sleep at 7:30 but only managed an hour. Still, an hour is more helpful than stayig awake till Sunday, which could have happened if I had put even a little effort in. Tomorrow is the fictional holiday of 420. 4/20… and cue the idiots who fight to be heard about date orders. It’s 20/4 or 2018.20.4… I actually don’t know. I always use the word. My comprehension number is down to 3 or 2. Its a hassle but I don’t know the month numbers without having to count.
So the loop tonight was.. waking up at 8:30pm unsatisfied I didn’t sleep through till tomorrow. I forgot to mention I didn’t sleep a wink last night so I’m over 24 hours awake again and I’m not feeling that tired. I upped my afternoons the last few days becuse of onsites… and then I continue with the honest afterthought. I need to dose twice a day to be productive now, and that afternoon snort is tricky. IfI do it too late, or too thick or two fucking awesome, I might not be able to sleep.
It’s also somewhat thought related, as I am still riding the front line of doom and excitement. I have no imagination of what is to come in the next 10 days. I can not forsee any way to cover the remaining bills before May 1 loops all over again… and I said that 10 days ago expecting doom then.
Where’s the doom?
That image was inserted using the Animated Gif search tool I just installed. It’s a pretty cool new way of communicating, that uses images of our memories in our new stories and posts. It’s kind of like we’re adopting the language of Darmock and Tanagra of Star Trek Next Gen.
I’ve been colouring my vocabulary with call back lines from my universe’s pop culture since I can remember. Trek, Python and the Hithikers Guide to the Galaxy are my top three holy scriptures from which I often quote or recite. I have memorized passages and frequently use them as my core anologies much like Christians do with their stories.
I can not predict the changes we shall see in the upcoming generations that will have 6 million photographs of themself when they’re old, but very few shared memories. Without core stories you share, they can’t be used as analogies and so they don’t become language.
Of course this is a wasted fear for society because I’ve already been proven wrong. Every generation will always have shared memories even if they are watching different programming.
The ads will always be there. The shares. We share everything now to insure our friends wil have a shared group of memories from each passing year.
Important Realization. Even though the population expands at whatever rate, our own universe doesn;’t really change that much. We may have the same personal circles of aquantence and friends.
Second voce says it wasn’t such an important Realization.
I sudenly hate it all and it was a mistake to share. Look at this? My typing is bad and it exposes my spelling is as well. Even I wasn’t fully aware that I can’t spell so many workds. I had no idea. I thought I’d outgrown that. Can it be true, or is fast typing to blame? Better yet, CAN I blame fast typing even if it is bad spelling?
The belkl signifies a topc change. Rather, it initites a toic change. The bell is shiny.
10:03. Am I tired enough yet? I have not talked about … I guess I’m not. It’s not a horrible disater that could end up with me being jomeless until it happens. On the even of 420, I’m still tossing my problems over the wall of tomorrow.
NOTHING CAN HURT ME AS LONG AS I’M WEARING MY ORANGE SHIRT
I have no idea where that came from. First ‘ve heard of it.
I can’t decide if I would enjoy being an immortal, or whether I would hate it. I have a history of being bored in a 20 minute lul. The puzzle is how much I enjoy life in almost every way, as long as there is another human in front of me. I love it all when I can see another face smile.
If I was immortal with a partner, like The Highlander always was during his various TV series, ding, then I would think there are few things cooler to me at 54, than watching the world’s loops. Everywhere. Growth. Evolution. New.
If you live 400 years, it can be a lot of FIRSTIES!
It can be a lot of been there, done that too.
The key I will repeat many times as I write my life and philosoppies. The secret to happiness and power and everything.
We get to write our own story.
Everything in our universe is the story we’ve been told,
Or the story we get to tell.
There is great power in the understanding that truth and reality are far less important than a well told story, and everyone in power… everyone in your memory as far back as you can remember… the winners are the ones that tell a story well.
I grew up in a small town filled with Britsh people. My mother co founded the community theatre, and my house was often fillwed with storytellers. I remember my mther’s theatre friends more than any of my own friends from that period.
I can go off on that too often. The philosophy of a Universe that really exists in the stories is my pet project and I am always thinking along those lines. I need to be aware constantly that ranting in public about a topic you didn’t explain to people is a definite sign of ding.
don’t say it.
Another effect of the black hole that is my audience, I might be crazy.
When you exist alone, even when among people, you never really know whether you’re great, or crazy or some varient in the middle. When you exist as a single, you are it. Perfect. There is no scale of 1.
-ding recall dump
In a universe of one. There is no passage of time. It is only with the introduction of a second, that time has a reason. And really, it starts to be significany with three because then youhave enough points to be able to see difference.
It is with the introuction of a second that choice becomes an option. The concept of choice is perhaps the first step in being self aware and what seperates animal from human at least in our minds. Without choice, there is less significant reason to notice anything.
Back to today. No choice makes us feel useless. Choice alone is hard. For me at least, the introduction of a sceond makes choice easy. I choose whatever I feel will generate a smle.
dump loop closed.
10:23. Bad posture tablet break. Try a toke of in da couch and sleep attempt #2.
Possible twoonsites tomorrow that may not pay enough to buy mor e weed. All my stoner friends are in the alternate universe of Second Life but I’llbe busy tomorrow… I don;t want to stay awake that third night… but I might. I’m out of the stuff by tomorrow.
too many thoughts. Shut down.
Turn around. Pick a bale of cotton. Shut down, turn around, picm a bale of hay.
Next part at 1123pm. Stomach pain enough for cobcen. Walked around. Noww eating.
A lunch able kolbasa crackers cheese … 8 I think, and a kit cat var mini size. I try to keep 2 or 3 in my fridge for such midnight emergencies when I’m out if the $2 pop tarts and the chocolate kisses wasn’t going it.
It’s not gone but its nit as worrisome. It’s way die in the loud area.
I really should not treat my body like I treated my teeth because I had a hard time finding a dentist who would build me a budget mouth and pull out my last 19 teeth at age whatever it was. Mid 40s. I am reasonably certain I won’t find a doctor to give me a plastic body at my age. I’ll have to wait at least a few years after its been invented.
Maybe ill get a food tube and just live in second life. I could get used to no smell and I’ve lived my entire life, less 1 month without feeling any touch. I’m used to that.
Oh wait. I forgot about masturbation. The sex inside second life may be void of touch, but when its good, its because if the touch going on outside second life.
Then I follow up with the second story, which is I kind of stopped having fake avatar sex in second life anyway when I found the new styles if regular porn I so enjoy these days.
I wanted to show a recent pic of the lunch box mini meal and I have one in the cloud but my ability to see it requires a bit more thinking than I’m willing to bluff and say I could di, but I can’t.
1140. Stomach helped. Might go to sleep after some performance belching.
My backup talent if I need to be homeless.
End of this part.
1140. 420 eve.
Fluids. Water. Probably not good idea to have the lsdt of the peosi.