Needless to say I’ve been doing a lot of thinking of late. Altought I’m not videoing every day like I did with Giveit100.com, I am considering an approaching end point. Like the day the paper has to be handed in.
This is bigger than school. It’s my life, and the inability to make enough money to live on. Soon.
I have been trying things, and several have been foolish, reckless or both, but none have been successful. As long as I have another to try, I keep on. I am Charlie brown, and life is that Football. I have to put out of my head the prediction that it will not be there for me to kick. In many things in life, past performance does not guarantee future results. That’s paraphrased from memorym, but it’s a catchy slogan that lawyers came up with to subtly explain your feelings don’t enter into gambling, and yet, it’s almost all about feelings.
I keep trying. In my head, and in my writings, I often talk about the idea that my life will eventually end on purpose. One day, I will just say, nope. My will to know what happens tomorrow, is finally beaten down by whatever shit I deal with today. I’ll run out of ideas in the escape room, and despite the awareness that I’ll be mad when I hear tyhe answers, I give up.
IT will come.
It has been a debate on the arena of my mind many times. I don’t want to wake up, if Mondays and mornings are not fun, right away. If I can’t get a few moments of pride and/or joy out every hour or so, and the scenarios have all been performed and reviuewed, I’ll say done.
However, deep down I stronlghly suspect I’ll think about it and say YES to tomorrow every day, even after quite a pit of pain and suffering.
My friends around me are sick, in increasing numbers. They smile when we’re interating and everthing is glorious, but they don;t have a good morning many days.
They live for moments too, but without whining.
I don’t like bumps, that’s how much I am weak to pain and suffering.
I have very vidi anger towards the memories of other boys that would punch me, and then repeatedly say; what?!?! I dodn;t hit you hard… and then show how hard they tghought they hit me a few times.
They all hurt.
Back to the story… I worked the annual Ad Astra convenmtion this past weekend… ell, it’s 5:42 on Sunday as I write this, and I have all of Sunday and pack up to do yet. I worked Friday and didn’t get to sleep till 1am and worked today and got home before 12. I decided not to go to sleep and got high and played. My other life, as mild mannered stoner, Orange Jeff in the other universe. His beard is less defined, but it’s not like a mirror universe. I’m not evil Jeff… just high Jeff.
I have to wonder if I can pull it off tomorrow without getting caught.
A challenge? A game? A hope.
Guilt is a weird thing. Ah!
Lightbulb moment. Guilt is Santa Clause. Every culture administers it in their own way, but guilt is what keeps you honest and fair.
Master Guilt, and there are no rules.
I do not want to be caught. I know I may need to be caught.
I do not want to let friends down. I know that is a big part of reveal.
I will bold face lie this Sunday. People may verty well ask me frank questions and I … change to may lie. I may break down, like I imagine I would if I ever get pulled over by a cop or investigated. I have this vision of saying; You. You caught me. I deserve this, and it’s a good thing.
This may sound unbelievebale and just a lie, but the truth is, my universe understyands why laws exist, and likes to live within them.
I still have guilt. I still want people to like me. I stiull think they don’t.
stop. edit. I still have a hard time grasping friendship and how I am liked.
I have actually come to accept my “character” as a good one. I like the me people know. I am not so happy with the me that I know.
NOW Jeff is the name I have given him. We don’t communicate. He only comes out when other people are in front, or in need.
Pleaqse state the nature of your medical emergency.
A memory of a conversation had today, on how the Holographic doctor that I won $100 because he was never named Dr. Zimmerman. Hmm… I think that may have been a truth memory. If I don’t confirm it, it’s in my library as a truth.
I have, as one of my trial and error ways to get my universe to change in such a way, the right guardian angel appears and solves things. The Rebook NPC II fits and I am wisked away to live happily ever after.
I see two main forms in the river foir me.
If I put my paddle in the water on the left, I go down the river of finding a partner that cliques just right, and I recreate a powerhouse creative solution. Writing, blog, video, whatever. Hosting, Info desk… anywhere.
It is clear to myself and others, that I am good at people. As long as I believe in what I’m there to do, I am a really good people person.
I screw up really stupid enough times to be fired… or do I? (WHSyndriome)
Am I Charlie Brown And George Canatstza?
I have a feeling I’m going to hate m,y life partner or business partner within 4 – 5 years. It’s a trend.. and it’s 100% guilt based.
5 years is how long the rube golberg continous stream of my life, to crush joy and believe I am not worthy of your time, and you can do better.
I am The Littleest Hobo.. No, Michael Landen… I wish it was Sam Becket, but it was – in my head – more like Michael Landen.
I moved on every five years with a certain wibbly wobly satisfaction that I had left the home better than I have been welcomed to it.
I evaluated people’s lives, and tried to be the punchline cruise directrory of distractions. Advice, opinions and lessons.
Just don;t ask me about me? You wou;dn’t understand.
Over the past 3+ yaears, I have tried drugs. I have become a drug user and fan. Orange Jeff is a personality that comes out with weed, and laughs at … Dave’s not here and Dave Chapppele’s bare but used as ID in what I’d only first heard, bo-da-ga
I dated. I had sex and I made a lot of people happy, for practice in the other universe. This weekend I did it live in this universe.
Getting high wasn’t needed.
However I believe it made it more enjoyable for me, and I don;t think I made it any worse for anyone else.
I did not do weed. That makes me laugh at DAVE’S NOT HERE, the fifth time, 30 years later.
I did a street version of the medication I might eventually get perscribed legally.
And Had a fantastic day.
But then I did more, and I think tomorrow mighht not be.
Title rturn: Did she notice?
Did the other two she’s notice?
There were signs. The kind of signs you laugh at in hindsite. Signs that make you react much the samew way many people did when Barry Manalow outted himself as gay nearer the end of his life. Homer would say; D’OH
Brain pops up clippy. I notice youre using a lot of pop culture and/or North American references for cutaway examples. Is that wise if you wish to maitain writings that could last beyond 20 years.
The book that introduced me to what A.D.D is, and changed my life one afternoon at age 27.
It came up in a fascinating exchange of origin stories to a man who found his sidekick and was a success.
I lost mine because he was the same sex and I didn’t understand that friend #2 can still be a great relastionship. That was a huge paddle in the river when I divorced my best friend.
He was the only submissive relastionship I’ve had in the chapters of my life story, told through this blog if you keep feeding the cat.
That book has been around since I was 27*
I will never forget Dave Alker explaining to me, that the smart people have started naming mental illness and the Internet was allowing me to realize that my brain was a type. A math number. 4 Billion people on tyhe earth, ideally treated as equals by society, are just a bunch of types… or rather recipies. Earth has a pinch of egotists, a swig of low self esteme people who get joy from serving. The people that like getting things done, and the people who wish they could, and complain. The people who really would rfather not, and all the skills in between.
See: The day we lost theviolynists.
I’m the one best suited to think. Not to decide neseasarily, but to mentally offer opinions which may differ than the expected. I might be suited to be a professional what iffer.
However, that job has no friends. I lose them, at least in my head. Somewhere along the five years, I build up guilt points.
Title return: moments I expect her to do one thing, and she does the other.
In a way, Firsties.
If I get away without being found out as high tomorrow, will I be relived? Will I think to myself, Whew… I did it. I spent a day in front of two friends who — in a way are tasked unofficially with making sure I do not do, excatly what I did.
On the other hand, I can continue to experiment and attempt to figure out how to mkake my un iverse change before me…
But if that is true, am I upset at how she misses the obvious?
No. I take the win, but score multiple guilt points over the lies, if asked directly if she figired out I was high, the first question will be — Was it _____?
Regardless of my answer, the second question wil be; Really?
Those are hard questions to lie to, even if my motto is, I will tell the truth, eventually about anything and everythinmg… excvept drugs.
In fact, almost all my drug answers will be lies, even if a tiny bit, to conciel the reality from the story.
I have a back story prepped. An answer I beleiev I can deliver with confidence. which isn’t good.
I know the secret of the bible.
No offence intended, I adopted the word Bible as the anthology of core stories a society shares as the examples and lessons of life.
My generation used NBC and Friends. I used Senfeld and Bob Newhart.
The shared core stories, retold and updated every year, as Disney releases it’s new episode.
Adam Ruins Everything, and he told me Disney was one of, if not the prime party in the stupud change of law that copywright does not turn to public domain after 50 years.
The future can not retell their favourite bible / movies / TV / book stories with a new twist. IN other words, Disney – the company famous for reboots and retells, mad it so nobody else can do the same.
However, in a different way of looking at it, it may have saved the world indirectly by forcing original work. The more time advances, if all 51 year old stories and charecaters were open to reboots and recasts and official or unofficial fan fiction, then A lot of our cuylkture would not advance.
We’re seeing it already. So much TV is purchased reruns. Imagine if anybody could produce new stories based on all the characters we know.
Or at least the ones who have mastered guilt and still live to profit and success rather than care about the wprld.
I am torn. The secret of the stories is that nothing really does matter but you. And nothing really does matter but now, and keeping now moving.
Without guilt, I might live a happy life doing nothing.
I’m suspecisiously close to it now.
Which is why I ned to try things.
A logic flaw. Friady camd and went. Saturday came and went.
I got high alone in my empty apartment on a rare day my roomate is on an overnight.
Currently her mornings are not happy, and she’s in the areas of survival every spare moment.
This weekend we both were toi let loose. Have fun.
I did.. but in that position of answering the call.
Please state the nature of your med–
No. I’d rather be Big Hero Six.
On a scale of one to 10, please state your pain.
I was a fool.
I was high
I was confisent
Why didn’t I mingle. There were three mingle events. Two had dancing and all three had drunk people.
I could have made a new friend.
I could have changed my life
I wasn’t thinking of the river
I had somebody in the boat and I had to think of them.,
And tomorrow, she’s probably going to give me plenty of guilt points in anger or passive agressive dissapointment.
Tomorrw, If I am found out, will be a parental shame moment. Tomorrow I may meet santa, and I’ll be the one red handed with my cookie in the 1 cm dime bad and a red nose.
(priide point – that worked out quite well. I am fond of this writing and the right recipe makes writingh I think I might be able to break the WH syndrome barier and exist the asiylyum… out the window of course.
I lost my keys today. For real. I went through the blank stages of loss.
The discovery of my missing keys was one I lied about, or at least – was a story I didn;t tell. I had been upstairs in a washroom trying to do an aerly even ing bump from the green dime bag, and I notioced I didn’t have my keys.
I could retrieve no visual memory of my putting them anywhere, and I’m usually pretty good at that, or at least I think I am as I tell the story at 6:31 still on confience juice.
The only visual memory I could retrieve was having visited my car in the parking garage for a special trip, and not quiote pocketing my keys, but resting them on the top edge of the pocket with 1 or 2 keys on each side. I sat my keys on the fence because I knew I’d need them again in a minute, and I didn’t want to cloose to car with them on the seat.
Although I have no stories of me ever doing that – ever, I certainly have many visual memories of the keys on the seat or in the trunk and being discovered before I did the final lock.
That’s like asking the officer for clarity when he asks if you’ve ever been arrested or convicted, and you repsond; Arrested? No.
I never locked my keys in the car in this way. I have locked them in the ignition 2 or more times. I have the most recent story, and it replaced the rest. They’re in the back of the library.
I loive the concept that the brain is a library and that flesh cells are the cloud. We grow and make cells as memopries are placed in them, all connected with a network of usbC or USB positive liquid cables.
Liquid is slower than light, but probably equally easy to store info.
Light may have a wider range of fake binary, but blood has a lot I bet.
The closer memories are to the brain, …
Too deep for this blog, but it’s a new avue I’m enjoying. I think it would pretty cool to come up with ideas that were good enough to have fans.
All it takes to change your life, is to have a fan. One good fan.
The WH Syndrome is a success killer.
When I was young, I learned that communism was an idea where you did not have the freedome of life choice,, but that leaders, math and tests placed people where they could most benefit the country.
I was told this was the worst thing in the universe, and that our side of the debate arena made up their bibles based on choice, and then told us God really made the choices, but we had the opion to do what we wanted anyway.
We built a structure of guilt first, followed with punishments often more political than effective and tried to progress.
I believe in our half of the world, the esxperiument we’re undertaking is power based and the secret of the stories is, society is considered a nesessary neusance to the top, who have figured it out.
The ones that didnl;t have brain tested by inspector #42.
I was told communisim was the enemy and it was actually a flawed system, because it only worled if everyone was doing it.
This momics what I have said about early religion. It’s only flaw was telling the stories as true. Religion only works till you meet the neigbourts over the hill with a different book, or somebody smart figured out the con and wants a cut of the action.
Once there vwere two relighions told as truth, peace in the world ended.
Maybe not forever, but like Star Trek taught us. The sane people are still a log way off if we give them as much time to figure it out as we took.
Christianittyy is 2017 years old and there are still people who believe it is the truth, and everyone else was just told a lie. There are still people who will kill you in the naqme of their origin story.
The problem with the answer to life, the univere and everythiung is, it’s a different answer to every living being, based on their persopective. Any answer is as good as 42, because it can’t be the right one for me, and Englad. They drive on the wrong side of tyhe raod and claim we do too.
In my brain, communisim sounds pretty cool, as a start. In some ways, this is an idea Gene Rodeenbeery probably though might work too, and he disguuisesd it as a space government, a concievable time in the future.
What if, The new President of the big pwers said; ok. We tried those stories for 2017 years… what if we do a reboot. Time for a new religion.
This time, everybody has to undertand it’s just a movie. Those are actors, not the son of Frank.
Frank is the new God.
Mel Gibson named him.
He looks like Gazoo to the cavemen, and Jesus to the catholics, and a fat baby to the Budhists. I forget what Hank’s son Bobby was.
Star Wars in the new bible in many ways. Star Trek maybe even more. The stories of the whit haf man and the black half man killing everyone on their planet. The stories where Darmock and Tanagra broke bread before they killed each other even though prime numbers wasn’t the key to understanding language with aliens.
Where was I. Time to break I think. My wake up alarm for 7am is about to go off.
End of Part 1.