Emptys

human condition.

2008-01-04T18:38:48Z

i ever never understood what that means. i heard people say it, but i don't think people really have a common understanding. or maybe my own version is .... uh .... dffrnt.

like for example, we are 'sequential' plops. we do one thing, then we do another thing. i'm not talk'n about excluding multitasking, cause i didn't say we couldn't do more than one string-of-things at a time. its just when we do thinkgs, first we do one thing then we do another thing. events get ordered by the way they happen (or the way we make them happen). past orderings are immutable.

this, of course, sucks. since: if we had known-now-then, we could have known-done to get the effect we wanted from what we were doin then.

seasonal affectedness disorder.

2008-01-04T17:10:09Z

i think that's what its called. i don't have it.
i think i have the inverse of it.

its pouring rain right now in silicon valley. its windy. overcast.
no thunder tho -- too bad. i like it, i hear the noise of the rain
on the roof of the car, i grin.

back at the house in michigan, i had snow two days in a row, i was
out shoveling, and at first it sucked. then after a bit -- i realized
i liked being at my house, and that the shoveling was ... nice ...
maybe it won't be next time, but it was pretty outside, not too cold,
not too windy, trees salted with snow, and i was working thought the
snow shovel by shovel. i grinned.

i seem to like a variety of weather. i hated LA cause the weather
was sunshime every day. it was like the sun was out to burn me, day
after day the same thing.

i like the cloudy days, the rainy days.

who who'da knew?

2007-12-08T05:21:06Z

not me. nope, not me. nobody told me.
i didn know. no news, never saw, no advice, didn notice.

i have paid the piper.

BUT wrong. i didn xakly do that ... no ..
did my best, did was right, but when i did

... overpaid.

but fair is fair. right is right.

news is now. new news is... balance.
... justice.

piper OVERPAYS back.
karma's a bitch.
less of course,
it pays inta
yer bank.
...like
mine

-warning-warning-waning.

2007-08-10T03:37:49Z

a post. me?

i have been to bryce, arches, zion. ridden to lick observatory.
my washer is fixed.
my fridge is next.

i want more floor, more bandwidth, more basement, want the
transmission fixed, want new floor.

damn.

-warning-warning-waning.

2007-08-10T03:17:36Z

i'ma post soon.

mebe even NOW

i just need more cheeto's

death.

2006-10-21T04:37:00Z

no not me.

this will sound bizzare. but it is no joke.
its not a halloween prank, or a story which i made up.

my sister. one of my sisters.
she is dead. the police found her sunday before last.

i think she committed suicide.

my parents passed away some 8 years ago, within a year of each other.
my mom wanted me to be the executor of the will, but i didn wanna.

i didn wanna cause of the sister, that committed suicide.

she was in a band a long time ago, on touch-and-go records.
i even made the label for one of her records. i was proud of her.
but slowly she got an extra responsibility. before she was in the band,
before she went on tour.

around then,
she would call and ask for money. i'd give her 200/300... what she
asked for, till i wondered if it was for drugs. i didn't have to wonder
for too long. i guessed it out. it was for drugs.

since she was young, she was ill. a bad kinda ill... rhumatoid arthritis.
i remember helping to take to the dupont institute in delaware, cause we
lived around there then. my dad took her to anybody that would say that
they could help. back then she was taking tons of asparin...
i think she and my dad had a special thing together
because he was ill when he was little, and was healed, and promised to
the 'church'

me? my parents admitted later they never worried about me.
ever.

she told me the drugs brought her some peace... it came at a price --
the addiction. after parson's art school in new york, she ended up
renting a room in cass corrider. it was a store front. after visitng
some of the clubs downtown people would crash there. i even crashed there.
there wasn't much in that place -- the toilet didn't even work. there was
a couch, and something like a bed. it was a different kind of urban camping.
for the savvy among us, THAT place made cityClub look like the hilton.

when my parents moved to fl, she would visit for weeks at a time,
and stay with them. they would pay for her to visit. i had things
to do, things to figure out, things to work on, things to work out.
i had things to learn, things to build, thinks to watch and care about.
my parents life and my life were not the same.

but my parents fell ill and that sister took care of them. they knew
about her addiction. they asked me to be the executor of the will, but
i said they should pick my other sister.

my mom got sick. she smoked tons. she got lung cancer, but what
she really got was brain cancer... that sister took care of my mom.
it made sense. they took care of her, and then she took care of them.

but it wasn't so simple, it wasn't that clean, it wasn't so nice.
i was there, in fl, when a social worker came to visit, and confronted
my sister. the opiate based suppositories for my mom were going too quick,
and the social worker was there to tell my sister, the now dead one, that
someone was likely stealing them, or using them.

but when my mom passed away, my other sister asked me to do all the legal stuff.
and i found out that the now dead sister took half of everything my
parents had before they passed away. the cliche of gasline on an open fire
comes to mind. i didn't want my parents money or stuff, BUT i didn't want
to put that kinda money in that sisters hands. i wanted her to use that money
to turn her life around, but i figured that wouldn't happen.... so i tried
to minimize the damage, tried to work things around to make 'em as best
as i could.

it was hard work, but i got that sister to take my parents house.
i wanter her to have a place to live.

she got married before my parents died. she married someone she met
while on a visit to ukraine with my dad. he helped take care of my
mom while she was passing away. i thought it would be wrong of me
to tell HIM about my sister. after all, it was her life, and who
knows, maybe she could be different.

i don't think he really understood the responsbility... the other
sister tho calls says he's associated with the russian mafia --
who knows ... she could be right.

dead sister and her husband fought alot. he was arrested for beating her.
she was additected, all the money she got from my parents was spent.
i'm not sure where or how, but it was spent.

so, lets get to recent history.

april of this year the house, which is owned free and clear, gets
a mortgage. i know the amount of the mortgage. i think they had
bills to pay -- the city was forcing everyone to get sewer lines.
she had to pay for that somehow.

from my aunt, i hear that her husband wanted to buy a condo in kiev --
here he is from. so i figure that's where the other part of the
mortgage goes. i know in early oct, my sister when to the hospital
for a broken toe. i think he was gone by then. i think he split to
the condo.

maybe bth of them intended to split to ukraine and live there.
i'm not sure that makes too much sense. maybe it is tons cheaper
than florida -- i don't know.

early sept, my aunt says dead sister borrowed $800, to pay for
car insurance and for glasses. the number's about right, but if
they need to borrow that money for that, it means all other resources
are gone.

dead sister and hubby had lots of fights. he would say he's leaving. she would say
she would kill herself. she was hospitalized a handful of times doing
just that. this time, i think he left, now all the money was gone.
and the mortgage meant new responsitilities, and that was too much,
and there was nobody left who cared anymore about lending her money,
and there was nothing she could think of next --

so she killed herself.

to my journal.

2006-09-24T00:21:38Z

have i told you?
about finding june taylor in the san francisco
farmers market, to buy syrup for a fine dinner?

or about bicycling today?
behind three other people, and having them all
fall back behind me, all the while me apologizing for using
their wind...

or fresh dates found at a closer farmer's market,
juicy soo sweet, while i remember talking to a friend yesterday,
when drinking, and thinking about the more than dozen
shooting stars in death valley.

or about the motorcycle here?
which is getting fixed, since i curse the things i own,
but bless them when their time has come.

and its visits to strange places?
hauling both me and another to places of high fashion,
places painting memories, painting views, and buiding friendships.

and the motorcycle at home?
that waits for me, asking me for new history.

no, not me... as i sit here, eating my own made,
still wondering if this is exhile, or a time for
rediscovery.

.-.

2006-09-09T21:36:36Z

at times i have had gifts for you,
some to touch, some to see.

my gift to you here is
a poem.

i believe, but dont really know,
whether what i have writ, has been
in your hands
but think you've read what i
can write.

i have heard that you have already
choosen your path, and wonder
how. i have little wisdom to give,
since my own choices would seem so
odd.

but i hope as you choose, you do not
narrow based on fears of outcomes.
i hope instead that you showered the world
with your hopes, and from that reaped what
you would like.

time...

2006-01-22T02:21:55Z

the dreams.
the dreams.

of late, it is time.
i still have but to

but to...

curse.

it is time, time now to curse.
i will call. i have the dreams
it is time to curse.

i can call.
i will call.

choices...

2005-10-26T15:13:54Z

i'm taking the motorcycle course offered by MSF...

i had the class part yesterday.
i have the riding part saturday and sunday.

the courses in michigan aren't offered till the spring.
i'd like to get practice in before then...

i've got the training license for motorcycles already.
i'm not sure how to finish the requirements for the
endorsement. i talked to somebody at wcc to find out,
cause they give the same course i'm taking, only they
charge nothing for it ($25 is kinda almost nothing).

so, the choices are:

- to buy a second bike, practice on it, then xport it to
michigan and do the ride test on that bike. hrm... that
could be apealing...

- to rent a bike for the ride test in michigan... hrm... that's
not such a great idea cause bikes are different, and i'd wanna
have a close personal relationship with a bike before i test
with it.

- take the wcc MSF course in the spring, and waive the test

- try to use the california MSF test to satisfy the michigan
requirement...

i'm not sure which makes the most sense yet.

maybe i ought to re-order them in a bit after i think
more about it.

ponders

2005-10-26T15:05:48Z

today's weather:

170#. i measured my waist yesterday. 30.5 inches.

for the motorcycle, i've been having to get jackets that
fit right. 42-44 inch chest. inseam 34". i cant find
pants that fit, and hell if i'm going to visit a fat+tall
store to buy $15 pants for $60.

i used to corset down to 29". no need for that anymore.
*shrugs* if i made a corset today, i wonder what waist
size i'd build for ...

...edited ... but i wanna save it... message sent to me...

2005-06-08T21:59:45Z

*sigh* ... i gotta save this ...
i'll add more later...

"After talking to XXXXX the other night she said some things that I think
reinforced the things I have thought about your marriage.

I don't doubt that Larisa thought she loved you.

I don't doubt that she was fascinated by you.

Larisa was fucking fool who didn't KNOW what she
liked/wanted and used YOU to find out.

I also have no doubt that NEXT time you come across
somebody palatable to you, BE CAREFUL!

Larissa was CURIOUS and FASCINATED until she figured things out.
The things she figured out were that she DOES NOT like women
and she wanted a whole man, and these are not my words this
is what she told XXXXX who would never hurt you.
But I think it is just SO FUCKING wrong for her to
NOT tell you to your face. "

there's no way to tell. there's no way to trust anyone.
not from what they say, not from what they do, not from
what they think, not from who they are or what they've
done.

its all worthless.

its all impossible.

butter. i smell butter.

2005-05-15T04:46:04Z

here, in this fucking small apartment,
i smell butter.

butter. its butter, rich...
like on some rich bread, some bread
with a thick crust, but i don't
have bread, and there's no butter
nearby...

its not butter. its roasting cauliflower,
turning brown slowly, with pepper and salt
and olive oil.

roasting.

HA. san francisco. so far, i'm not
impressed. i wonder if the THOUGHT of
them being so fucking cool, holds them
together...

but just like the dot com WAS a facade, the
people here seem as much a facade. you dont
get to see them, you see what they've been
told is the right way to be.

done.

2005-01-27T01:53:04Z

i am done.
broken.

undone. unmade.

i am
closing doors.
removing pasts.

there is no history,
that i am.

HA! THERE!

2005-01-26T23:11:31Z

sewing room seems to be doing ok, with the new
serger and simple sewing machine. what more could
you want?

i'm looking at some brocade... i'm seeing what
corsetting materials i have. i know i'm out
of stay tubing. the old supplier is still around.
it will be time to order. i have a single busk
left. i wanna order a better size ...

i'm getting the garage working again. i'm cleaning
some stuff out there. i still have to work around
both of the car shells in there. somebody is interested
in the 69 428 R code GT.

the vibration problem with the table saw was fixed
by getting a new belt. seems the old one became
brittle enough to cause vibration on the table.
i've tested the 80 tooth blades, and the cuts are
crisp and clean. time to build a new audio cabinet,
i'm tired of the old one.

i'm looking into building some small speakers. there's
a number of new ribbon companies... aurum cantus,
raven... i want to build something smallish, like
the size of one of the small sonus faber's ... with
a small woofer... like 5 or 7 inches... there's this
neat scan-speak driver which seems wild... lots of excursion,
small ported cabinet. not bookself...

i got back mail from the audio tech in san diego...
he's got time to fix the old excellent preamp.
i want to send him THAT, and one of the amp's too.
and i'm thinking about some amps which i've wanted
for a LONG LONG time.

i had steamed eggplant with onions, brocolli, and
a tumeric-palmSugar-cococut sauce...

and i'm waiting for a phone call.

i am here.

2004-12-18T06:01:29Z

i go out, tonite.

i am home, with the smells of christmas baking,
the gingerbreads, the tea cakes ...
russian or mexican ... i dont care

there's nothing for me out there. i play some,
i come home after being called beautiful,
and find something odd on my wrist, something
blinking in my pocket, a yellow kerchief from
referee's at the club. *shrugs*

its not what i want. i know what i want. its not
there anymore. i'm empty.

i am empty.

the cold does not touch me.
it would if i had body, but i don't.

nothing for me.

but i will bake tomorrow, i will make more, to give
to others. not to complete me ANYMORE, but to gift
something which I MAKE, not that i buy. rhugala,
mija, breads, cheeses, more cookies, more sweets,
cheesy potatoes, some odd beans....

cause afterall, its a time to GIVE,
and much as i have nothing,

i have more than many.

no entries.

2004-11-10T20:04:52Z

there's few entries...
just as few as
what's left of 'me'.

death eludes me.
tho i try to strike a bargain,
giving free reign to THAT
nasty part of my head,
wanting to XX me.

there's pools of blood.
knives. ropes.
even impaled into those black and yellow barriers
protecting stray cars from concrete,
while listening to the fucking CD player.

among whispers of less pain.

can i be D-O-N-E?
what promises can ever be made again,
which won't remind me of the already broken ones?

and the point is ... what?
to wait for ... what? exactly what?

another damned lier?
another faker?
or maybe bigger compromises, ya, ya,
subvert myself to pretending something
ANYTHING ... could work.

chocolate couscous

2004-09-26T18:56:51Z

i'm dusting the bottom of a serving dish with ground pecans and graham crackers just so that the cake slices will lift out easier. i'm lazy, i don't wanna buy another pan, i ought to be using a springform, or a torte pan, but i'm a dork.

i'm making a dessert, its a kinda cake, with a lower layer of chocolate and couscous and a top layer of chocolate and tofu. it sounds awful, just like the details of any food, where does cream cheese come from anyway? and what exactly is cream?

i want amaretto in that top layer. i visit the top shelf, mother hubbard would be proud. damn. another road trip. off to visit my liquor store. oh, they know me. just like they know me at mcdonalds. i wonder if i ought to be embarrased by these associations. i get home, and unscrew the top of the amaretto bottle. then wonder why there's no inside seal like on peanut butter. i add the liquor to the chocolate tofu pudding thing, spread it above the other layer then find some place to hide it in the fridge.

i'm still tired. it was a late night yesterday.

no hunger

2004-09-24T15:39:48Z

i awake slowly. light through the shades in the room pains me.
i've welcome all the rain this year, but more the clouds.
do i want to be perky? should i pretend? what does the world
expect from me?

i have an emptiness, but no longing.
each day is new, but without any plan.

am i broke?

my life is burgled, hidden somewhere in the past.
cheshire smiles of shallow people brings no peace.
their words amuse me, i watch them twist about in
their lives using what they have to build meaning.
some have THINGS, some have THOUGHTS, some have
TIME, some have LUST.

i am the muddler.

overcast.

2004-09-16T14:52:52Z

with that warm sticky skin feeling.
i feel it when i stretch my fingers wide.
its quiet too. i'm listening for thunder,
wishing it was dark, so i could see lightening...

remembering looking out at a green-yellow
thunderstorm comming... twilight, windy, with
that chill just before the rain comes. we're
sitting on the tiny front porch, on those crappy
fold up camping chairs, watching the cloud to cloud
lights, orange colors changing from the setting sun.
green colors from the clouds, yellow reflected ones.
purples from the lightening.

i have rituals.

i stop at mcd's to pick up a diet coke,
something small to eat, one of the burritos.
get to the office, and scrape the inside to eat,
and ditch the tortilla. one of the office people here
talks to me about his GF. then takes me to show off
a picture of them together, and shows me how happy they
WERE together. then says he doesn't understand how
they got to NOW.

i don't eat anything anymore. well, mostly i don't.
yesterday i had dinner at a mexican restaurant with spunkolebat
a small place, with the cute place mats pinned to the ceiling.
place mats with cutouts in them, different designs. like a place i
ate at in new mexico. i order the chicken-enchilada-mole. its good,
like that place in new mexico.

how to cook at acidskyway's

2004-09-14T14:21:37Z

*shh! he just moved in! this is the best time to write something like this*

i went to do dinner with ackiskyway's. i took stuff i had
lying around, some scheduled for impending departure, some to be mangled
by the vegatable rotter in the fridge. i suffer to buy just the right
amount of food, but sometimes ... well, i just get a bit OVER excited.

like... i found boneless, skinless chicken brests for $1.69 ...
feh. this is what hunting and gathering has evolved into.

there was firm tofu, a ripe michigan tomato, one avacado, a potato,
an onion, a carrot, and an even pair of the chicken breasts. i decided
to take THINGS to dump into a thai curry, and also packed a can of coconut
milk, and some red thai curry. i tried to go grab the sweet potato, only to
find out it had already been managed by the rotter part of the fridge...
then took the thai basil, and cilantro too.

i took diet coke to drink.

his apartment was spartan, as if from an overzealous garage sale, or
spring cleaning in some sweedish holding cell, smells from the new ikea
product still fresh in the air. we looked in his fridge and through the
shelves to see what we could cook. we decided ... we were making thai curry.
i brought white sticky rice, and used one of the pretty pots to start it first.
then i asked for a pan and oil to fry the tofu while everything else was
organized. oh, no! no oil.

but this is NO ordianry apartment complex. next door, right next door,
lives mizsyn ... KNOCK KNOCK ... we begged for oil. we got that.
so we begged for sugar. got that. so we begged for butter. HA, we were
working on dessert too... chocolate cookies! ... got butter ... more gathering
complete we went back to MORE-COOK.

"OH... Where's the knives?"
"oh, we don't have any."

KNOCK KNOCK.

back to the pan, dump in miszyn's oil, cut to the tofu, dump it it,
then clean and cut up the onion, carrot, potato, and the chicken. dumped the
tofu into a bowl, then learned i have no skill whatsoever in running an electric
can opener, but acid saved us. part of the milk into the pan, then the curry,
then dissolving, then dumped the chicken in... then mostly everything else.

acid was doing cookies. mixed everything together. he listed the ingredients.
i asked him about baking soda. nope. hrm.. what to do. we added diet coke.

he heated the oven, ... NO COOKIE PAN ... KNOCK KNOCK. ... and the cookies
go into the oven, and i clean the tomato and the avacado, and the thai basil,
and the cilantro, while the curry simmer stinks up the room.

mmmm... it was good. mmmm.... the cookies were cakey, but good too...
and missyn ate too.

why the hell?

2004-09-13T14:13:36Z

dont i post more.

i think i wait for something to say, something i want to remember.
maybe i wait for a mood, some feeling i want to try to save.

did i want to record the mood from city club on saturday?
when is empty a mood... i had more fun watching rented movies
on saturday then i had at the club. maybe i didn't drink enough
to dance hard, maybe i felt out of place. its only a place,
why should it sometimes feel electric, and other times unplugged?

or was it the dancing last tuesday?
did that raise my expectations?
i don't really get into 80's stuff, but
ness, and becky and rachelle...

well, maybe it was rachelle.
that's the first time i've seen somebody else
dance till they sweat.
i thought it was only me ...
who did that.

need onion soup mix.

2004-09-05T15:45:08Z

so i goto the local spartan store... busch's valu land.

i get sliced almonds and onions soup mix. while in the baking aisle, a woman starts talking to me...

"would you do me a favor?"

last time i was asked that, i was asked to kiss someone.

"sure"

"there's a guy who's following me, and i'm a worried he's still around. would you check to see if here's still here"

"sure, what's he look like?"

"kinda like a wizard, big hair, you'd know him if you saw him"

i walk around, check out a few people in the store...
i go back, there's a guy with a tank top, and michigan boxers in the store...

"that's not him, he's got big big hair, you'd notice"

"i think your safe, but follow me, i'll walk around the corner"

giggle FBI...

2004-09-03T17:29:13Z

had the FBI call today,
from texas.
they wanted to know about
some software messaging product...

cause i did some evaluation for enron,
to help decide if a product did what it said,
and what other products did stuff like it.

*giggle*

they even asked what other lawyers contacted me.
and who i talked to in the company
where i did the evaluation.

*careful*
*don't give em nothing which could lead to a promotion*

.. august fields ...

2004-09-03T16:53:44Z

driving home, passing fields.
august fields.

forgotten, harvested.
fallow, empty fields...

labor day celebration, needs food, friends.
but as i pass those fields, i stare, and
blink, and think, and breathe and wonder ...
about standing in hot sun in those fields,
breaking clods of dirk in my hands, crumbling,
wind blowing the taste of dust up into my mouth,
eyes... stepping on dried stalks, hearing the
crunch.

i wonder how that field feels like me.

Emptys

human condition.

seasonal affectedness disorder.

who who'da knew?

-warning-warning-waning.

-warning-warning-waning.

death.

to my journal.

.-.

time...

choices...

*ponders*

...edited ... but i wanna save it... message sent to me...

butter. i smell butter.

done.

HA! THERE!

i am here.

no entries.

chocolate couscous

no hunger

overcast.

how to cook at acidskyway's

why the hell?

need onion soup mix.

*giggle* FBI...

.. august fields ...

ponders

giggle FBI...