Thi is my life now, until this is.

I laugh as I start to write. The piece is to start as a cometary that I am not only enjoying the improved perception of progress, from my bed… The King’s home row and my computer…one symbolic row to my…

I laugh as I start to write. The piece is to start as a cometary that I am not only enjoying the improved perception of progress, from my bed… The King’s home row and my computer…one symbolic row to my right.

I leave this chess board.

ding. Realization connection as I was typing at the speed of thought. 

I am symbolicly now standing in a void. Even with the light of the single bulb, I can see nothing beyond — well let me just say its an odd expierence looking in all directions towards a — towards a nothingness, you realize there is no word to reaaly suffice. I have never pesonally .

I am sad again, this time because it is clear that super happy fun time can go on for longer than The Second Voice is starting to 

Retaining … hard. 

music dart. 

Thanks for checking the series out. I’m Orange Jeff, and this is;

The Start of Tonights Loop

If you’re new to this LIVE then Welcome.  You’re the fans I fear the most, but the simultaniously the vital ones I need the most.

ding. Remembered our family were always early adopters and Iknew that term befo…

buzz. Hipster reapproriation of “I liked it before it was popular”. That is one of those feelings I know I was not alone in feeling. In fact, I would often be sad that more of my friends shared my taste in TV shows to talk about, back in the days when my life was happiest, just being in a place where I was among people. The NOW Jeff handles the canoe whenever other eyes .

ding. Some people like being alone. They have no witnesses to — They are voids. The peolle who don’t share their stories. The people that don’t interact by at the very minimal, are rememberable enough to make it to somebody elses’s stories too.

I have no stories to tell now, because I adapted to my childhood by whatever I did. I never told anyone, including me.

I blogged this week about Orange Jeff not being real and I tried to … well I did have a conversation with him.

To be clear. I typed to Orange Jeff for one of the few times he aand — 

Shit. No points. I was high, so I was not even my split personality talking to the two identities, at the spead of my typing. It was actually The emerging dominant one, Orange Jeff, high as fuck,  I split my lonley unshared transcript with myself and what happened was a script.

I am in a theme this week of this format, again always evolving at the speed of the trans-script. trans-lation. trans-formation.

oh oh oh. I just boosted my happiness in this elvated mood. It might actually be real. I might actually..

grapic – time for the first tease.  The Repose Loop. It may be hard to believe, but I have been doing this every day fir over a week… every day. I have smoked my Indica Shatter.

RESPECT. Its a diffent kind of …. I typed several words, but in my head each time, Ryan would yell SWITCH. If tou’ve seen any improve games, switch was often hilarious. In life however, it is a fantastic image to recall as needed.

bam. I just saw inside a whole new layer of my…

And there it hits. I am still alone and no video is on.

IF I BELIEVE IT, IT IS TRUE

That is a core pillar.  When I get a new idea emerge into my head without warning, It often floods the whole head with a feeling of a smile. A smile will always get my attention, even if it’s my own. The end effect of this newly learned ability to feel the pleasure my mind recieves when something new is witnesed. If the incoming thought is packaged with a stunning phsical style that agrees with me, and a face I don’t want to upset, I can almost guarantee that, if I’m on weed I will forget the everything. Obcession is active when I am given the gift of a question or in fact, any opening. It is my greatest joy, when she talks first.

My dilema. To do the right thing I am coached into choosing. To retain my life long …

SO MANY THOUGHTS.

I might ctully understan Egan Robinson more now, and myself.

I previously made the connections that got me here. It seems one of our core JIM (Joy inducing moments) isconnected to the strining of multiple realizations together to string enough light, and the story is remembered to your wall. 

Image. You are laying on your back. You can only see until it is black.

Imagine this is where you woke up just now and the only thing you might remember a faint guess at, is that this is my life now. I think I wake up every day in this darkness. I do not know anything more than a faint familiarity in this exact beginning, at least a few times before.

I have no basis or bias at this stage to choose which way to walk, and in fact – I just discovered I am an overthinker and this might be more fun than scary. I walk.  After a moment of undefined time my first realization is in the failure to have thought to count my steps. My second voice agrees, but comforts that in this case, defining your universe might not be the direction your NOW is better pointed towards.

In my head, NOW Jeff is actually the third version of Jeff. I have never met him, but the moment I made the connection and realized that the problem was never with the version of Jeff that gets to be the one that talks to others and lives in the world of smiles. 

The Jeff I consider prime is in my head just slightly behind LIVE Jeff, usually listening. LIVE Jeff hardly ever screws up. It’s when always what happens in the 

The problem isn’t with the Live Jeff the world knows. I learned to trust they like me. It’s a concept I had a difficult time adapting to, in much the same way you can’t watch colour on a black and white TV created before colour was invented. Just like you can’t explain what it felt like to look into nothing when you wake up and not know.

Much like you can’t tell any of the extreme variety of people that ask those questions. Every person who’s ever tried getting high even once knows the question. In your head, you may be smiling already as you read this.

I pause.

I smile but fir three different reasons. I have already created a visual for this thought bubble. 

I will speak the words of this question using the most excellent example I could come up with, and it came to me just as I was about to give up. You can not however, hear the accent or inflection. Although the dictionary both online and printed include pronounciation guildlines using symbols. 

I have no way of knowing, but it is my guess that nobody in my circlke of awareness; nobody nows that language. I would imagine, if we polled the studio audience of 1000 people, more would know the deuey decimal system than the language of pronounciations.

If I BELIEVE IT, IT IS TRUE.

IN my universe, that is decided. I am on the right side.

ding. I don’t realize how deep that is till i hear it being repeated in what has become as clear as avoice in my head.

I have never really talked to it in dailogue.

I am thinking a bit too fast.
ding.  Thought stream joy spike. A while ago, a background story was emerging existing on the audio  frequencies. Irritating noises were in whatever the audio equivilent of periferal vision is, with your ears.

Pop up Trivia point. I know three peole who are deaf in one ear. I can go only so far in knowing how that is diferent because the people who are deaf are equally capable of explaining to me that.

But they will ask

“What’s it like?”

insert gif of Eric Idle. What’s it like” is the payoff punchline and end to the popular Monty Python sketch where one guy becomes quite irritating towards a stranger by asking questions. Each round of questions is caboosed ding change

Daniel had a tweet that made me laugh out loud a moment past. I remember only the joy of the laugh. I tell my version, and wish it could know whether I givecredit to Daniel, or whoever he shared it forward.

This thesaurs is really horrible nd horrible.

Now. As I say it, I must prepair an answer to justify why you should not run away if that didn’t seem funny. it wasn’t. It either was in Daniels version, or I lughed not at the content of the one line wisdom as one of those laughs that you get a bonus point others didn’t.

Flash Flood.  I wanted to tell the main story, but the flow off course has become a signture style that is anchored to who I am. Magically math seems to balance out in ways that do not have an explaination in the Universe I live in, or at least it seems to go against all the other stories. 

What I mean, in use.  No matter how my story goes from here, as NOW is either discarded or saved to the walls of my mental universe on a coloured metaphoric post it notes. I state that I will sort them when I have time, but even if sleep, NOW is still running, like everything else. The moment you notice any of it, you’re captaining my canoe in the stream.

Oh yeah. The blip.  . uck. It’s such a short story, I keep losing it the moment I show joy about remembering. Like when you see the needle in the haystack catch the light but your body reaction to that joy repoisitions you. You were never closer to finding that needled but you don’t have to go on faith that, at the least you know there ios a needle.

It is hard for me to stay focused on tasks which have no stories of their own, because I will find things to make my brain smile, and that means I stop looking for the needle without guilt because my stomach spoke.

I am comforted by the joy that my self pride for my writings has been validated at the absolute extreme levels of confidence. I stay on my belief that my writing is #fanworthy with the qualifier that I …

I pause.

I am flooding my cache really soon thee days. That’s the drugs to be sure.

In my head, I get an idea. A great idea. I have already assimilated the realizations from past, and understand that there is an urge that comes with new ideas, and that urge is acumulative. There is a joy felt when the first light bulb makes that cobnnection and turns on.

Neat. Your idea. Very quickly following in the wake of the idea, the full force of my attention pounces and destroys all joy with there mere concept that I can not imagine scenarios. Reframe.

I am not using my power for good. 

I seem to have discovered the feeling of stopping time and making all the other new connections now made obvious by the new brightness. Much like moves in checkers, the older the game, the more likley the last moves will not be an even volly. My final memories of any checkers game ended with the sound of my oponent’s click, click, click, OH WOW click, click. Final words were either You lose, or King me.

Recap. I live my life in a power saving state. I’m only active when interactive, and if they leave, I will keep awake till I finish the task, but don’t be surprised if you wke up and see a Palm Tree in the kitchen painted verious different colurs.

When you ask me what the fuck it is, your best answer is I don’t actually know either but man that must have been a great idea becaus enormally this would be waaaaay to much effort. That was kind of the point to the start of this. I have reached an awareness to a secret cheat to life.

I have this thing I do sometimes. I have a hard time trusting joy. IN fact, it might be true that these short points work so well because I broke my ability to trust and so I will for the rest of my life, live with the understanding that my imagined scenarious can not be absolute. I have literally created an entire new universe just to help me define mine. 

The Universe I exist in, seems to work the way a universe created for me would work. This creates a few paradox issues for me because if I am actually just reframing my universe with a new story, and I can find evedance and proof to anything I want, if I believe.

Remedial further breakdown.

Everyone’s universe cracks just a little when they first realize the concept of lies. It’s a multi light bulb realization that either lights your room in a flash or in a sequnce were you savour.

 need a way to keep reminding that I have chosen my idea and now I must describe, defend or abandon it. I vent it and the second voice usually hates it and puts it in the do not share pile that was all because 

EVerything is because

I like that. Bumpetr Sticker Therapy became twitter but they’re dropping words and at first I was the old man shaking his fist. I no longer get upset at change because it serves so many purposes in our society. The biggest issue a country leader has to maintain is employment. Employment is so delicate and devistating. Progress has to be balanced.

At first, baby lies and is probably surprised. You assume your god and creator can tell. 

First light bulb. I wonder what happens if… Hmm. fascinating. I cried and mom rewarded me, and I wasn’t even hurt.  I need to tell everyone!

ding 10 points foir closing a loophole with a recall. We seem to need to tell everyone we know as soon as we can. The joy of new seems better shared fresh.

THis is because a good new firstie shared, can reward with a chain of lightbulbs. All fast, so that at least every third jolt is because of the realization that this whole thing is cool. I actually trip out on learning new connections, and then working out the reactions.

I get it.  The joy of discovery is what drove it for us I suppose. IT is not hard to leap and understand that animals may exist on the minute feelings of up vs down. The computer moderization of the way we share has, at least for an empty patch on the time line included with this story 100 years in the future.

The written word can’t teach the reader about senses. My writing can emote feelings the reader has experienced enough to use as base. If I write about the days gone by of several foods I considered favoutites that vanished over the course of my life.

I do not know the math if a third of everyone reading can elate in some way to my words, I know I can not describe why I would consider to continue on a path that is clearly a bad long term choice.

Smokers can believe they understand. 

One day, a trigger fom one of my senses will flag familiarity. Something I see will remind me of something I saw, and because two exist, a lightbulb comes on. A loop. Things in my universe that work, get retold. The lessons don’t need to change, but it’s neat to see and spot your life repeated in the faces of those a mere seven years younger. A generation in my universe. The age that you likley won’t know much about in either direction for most of your youth.

Just short of 10. Your generation will have an image package of shared stories that wil make anyone who lived it smile whe revealed. I kno what 70s music sounded like to me. I know what 80s music was defined as. I can spot 70s built homes, and decorations and lots.  

It may be because I lived it, but it seems the 90s and up till recently, somebody forgot to come up with a good market name for the decade of 0s.

The first 20 realy don’t have a market name.

The Milenials are groing up in a word that is substancially more freking awesome than we could attribute to a Star Ship hundreds of yers from now. Our future is both simultaniously more fucking awesome than we were hoping for, but because we were wrong, it stings and we choose to tell the negative stories.

The last conversation I  had with my father was one I respected enough to save as a story I’ll refer to. It was the story of a young man and an old man discussing the transition of time and change.

Ha. It was not. It was a sentence I turned into a fight. Our levels of realization were mis matched and I knew I’d have to give in before winning because 

ding.  ha. I both simultaionlys love and hate the idea that I can end a sentnce with because and not enter the because. One of the rules of my teachings is that we do not need to share the negative scenarios that were imagined but not shared, that turned out to be wrong, but will always exist on the walls of my universe.  I have fabricated the fear that at any given moment, any joy may be stolen from me. THe girl I really like the smile of… I want to fall in love, but… what if she opens the curtains later and the whole sorierty is pointing and laughing at me because I didn’t know what her Earnway was.

I pause. I have no way of getting the laugh for that one. 

— Simultaniously happy I can continue to believe I write well, with the asterisk side note that nobody usually shares first drafts because first impressions.

Because first drafts continue choices you abandonned and that means therewill always be peolple you dissapoint.

Tht’s why you need a few good fans.

I have a skim memory of how many loop holes I left in this. More than even you realized because some open stories changed before I even pressed the first letter.

9:42pm Sund… Whoops. Monday. I should retire with confidence. It will be hard as fresh ideas appear and if I dismiss 10, the guilt will accumulate and I’ll sit up to wrtite it down.

I will forget what it was, but because I am up, I will…

I’m Orange Jeff, and I’m ready to close this loop.

Still up since Friday morning with one nap.

This ws blogged in the app and speed was great. Auto corect from a combo of hardware keyboard with sofare fixes reduced.

DRY MOUTH is the shiny object that breaks the focus.

kind of.

I ause. I try to “feel”. Hard to say. I forget what tired feels like.

End of Part 1.