Way off.

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I was desperately hungry last night.  I could not do the work, here at home, to make ready, then cook a meal.  It wasn't even the amount of work, it was a lack of heart.  So a trip to town, but very late.  Even after demolishing a large meal, I was still so very hungry.  My body was full, so it wasn't just a food thing.  I don't know what that is, but it's... something I keep an eye on.  Not, purely, a fear.  A curiosity too.  No, I don't know what that is.  Terrible, fearful, voracious, but it hasn't lead me to bad places.  It actually, usually, leads me to better places, but at a personal price.  It does need to be tended, respected, and fed... if smaller bites are best.  It took some long time to make it to bed after that though.  Waking quite late wasn't an option this time.

My friend called shortly after noon, right as I was waking.  Yes, no, soon.  Give me time to choke down some coffee, says I.  But, yes, I will make it to town.  And early enough for us to get a new 'do'.  Haircut, that is.  I think he is going down to the nub.  Me?  Not a chance.  Not with winter closing.  I want to get out.  Longer hair helps that.  My hair is as thin as... baby hair or something.  There are advantages and disadvantages to that.  I certainly need more of it in the winter.  I'll go back to a mohawk next summer, if I can get out, and remember.  A mohawk is sort of the best of both worlds in warmer climbs.  I have some hair, for highly air conditioned places, some scalp to keep the sun from directly touching my top brainpan, but enough side venting to maintain cool.  It's not a style, it's a system.  Let him go Roman.  I was never Roman, save when it was a sacrifice.

One of the folk I know believes, somehow, in Romans... while not abiding any of their norms.  Beard and longer hair, at least by Roman norms, he is a lover of the state.  I simply think he is mixed up.  I don't know where his boots lead, but I do know he is confused about ally and enemy, counting both as each, I think.  As I said, I was only ever Roman in a temporary alliance.  I don't see America as Roman.  I see it, actually, as anti-Roman.  Roman, in this usage, being the old secular notion of statism.  America was built, and based, on the individual.  Eventually coming to some notion of common civil and social norms, much of which have been eroded in order to create a new Rome, albeit.  We are at the crux of the last choices, perhaps beyond.

I don't seem to be sore from work yesterday.  And I never did take the painkillers.  Work was my painkiller.  It worked, and will until the pain from that surfaces.  Sometimes it does, sometimes my body covers for it.  Not an issue today.  And, maybe, this evening or tomorrow, I will do some more work.  Getting forty pound chairs up into a garage overhead is a bit of a trick, stomping up and down stairs a half a dozen times under load can test, and organizing... Okay, that last is the one that really hurts.  Instant confusion.  This is where women can help.  Some women.  I have a way with women.  My... weakness in this area draws out something in them.  For them it's a trap.  For me it's just a natural way.  Accidental but useful?  Actually for both of us.

Hmm...  I best... get some coffee in me.  Not sure if I have to make a pot first.  No matter...  I am a coffee zombie...  Thankfully, I haven't quite gotten to the point where I crave even the grounds!  No worries about the rest of this post.  Morning birdsong.  *chirp*  Later.

Hungry as a bear.

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I keep creating posts, then pulling them, or in this case not posting.  How to say what is to be said?

Imagine you are a bug that can live on relatively deep water.  You are doing just that.  Something changes, however.  The water begins to move and swirl in ways unknown to you.  It is beyond your literal experience.  You don't quite have the strength to fully resist, but you have some ability to maintain control... for a while.  You don't know how long the changes will last.  You know nothing.  You are a water bug on top of the water in a tub, and the drain plug has been pulled.  Should you resist, as long as you can.  Should you go with the water, saving your strength for survival or escape at some other crucial point.  Does it matter?  You don't, and can't, know.  As with seeing, and writing, tone, and direction, I simply don't know.  I feel compelled to spill the beans.  So, for the most part, I will.  I just don't always have to like it.  Pretty brutal.  Don't go if you can't handle... darker things.  -From yesterday night. ~ The Management.

Oh, right.  I reordered the time and date to properly reflect when this post would have, perhaps should have, gone to print.

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I just couldn't get it together well enough to cook.  Which would have required a few other tasks, beside cooking.  No heart for it.  A shower and a trip to town.  A little shopping while I was there.  Food doesn't taste all that good, but the hunger remains, even after eating.  Oh well.  It's late, but not so late that tomorrow will necessarily be off.  I'll be to bed shortly, and set the alarm, plus keep the phone close enough to hear but not too close.  Oh, and some musical thoughts from the evening.

Lawn hoses and more.

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I'll tell you, wrangling seven or eight hoses, starting at 50 feet, two of them being heavier 100 foot lines, half of them solid rubber construction type, is a bit of a feet.  If it don't wind you, you probably aren't breathing correctly.  All of them are up, coiled, and in.  While I was at it, I noticed that the branch cuttings were still out there.  The last time I went to do that, the wheelbarrow was full of water.  I emptied it, then leaned it to dry out.  Sure enough, it was well and truly dry, so...  I got to it.  Just one load, but it is a big wheelbarrow and I stuffed it pretty full.  I left it, halfway through the hoses, but did get back to empty the wheelbarrow, and tip it so that it stays dry.  Hopefully another run of that before long.  There are branches, more the twigs, which are too long to stack, that I will still need to figure out.  An axe?  Too thin, really, for the saw, mostly. I don't know.  But I can get the rest of the shorter lengths piled in and over.

I wasn't sure about the hoses, so wondered if I had completely lost my mind when I started messing with the wood.  Sometimes the body just does as it likes, just as in this case.  It usually proves me wrong.  I don't fully understand what my body can do.  It doesn't know a whole lot about me, either.  Yeah, yeah, but it is the way of it.  That work will either make tomorrow work out or crash it.  I'm betting on it priming the pump, we'll see.  Then again, tomorrow is planned as light.  A haircut, lunch, and a bit of shopping.  Nothing fancy, or time or energy intensive.  Yeah, I'll get there.

It's lovely to break a sweat.  I just wish I could maintain it.  I did resist a break in about the middle of messing with the wood.  That would have been the end of it.  I resisted the temptation, when all but two hoses were left to roll and put up.  After that, it was all resistance.  I wasn't sure I would get it all done.  Though I suspect that is all there is.  I'll take it.  The next major effort, outside, will be getting the chairs and tables sorted and stored.  It's a much smaller job, but entails a few things in a hallway, too, and stairs.  Perhaps a ladder and some overhead lifting and placing.  Compared to today, though, it will be about half the effort.  Then I need to finish with the hallways and bathroom, then sweep and mop.  I'm getting there, if it seems more haphazard than I thought.  It all needs done though, and with the same weather limits.  Bleh.

Oh, right.  I'll be calling to see if steaks are good.  I don't know how that call will work out.  It's been on my mind, as well as a few other things.  Gah!  I can sure be slow about some things.  I'll... get to them... if I can...  I seem to be living long enough, just not energetic enough!  Later.

Good to get a phone call.

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My friend buzzed.  I must admit, I did think about not answering.  Not because it was him.  Sometimes when the phone rings, and I am feeling a bit awful, I just don't answer.  If I don't recognize the number, more so.  I am borderline awful, and my more... civil aspect... decided to answer before my obstructionist, or ill, side could let the call pass.  A haircut, today, was the request.  I want to go, and need a haircut too, but not today.  It's good to be strong enough to admit one is weak.  And, so, I did.  Not today.  How about tomorrow though?  What will be the honest difference between today and tomorrow, I thought, even while carrying on the discussion?  Ah... running start.  Yes, I need that sometimes.  Give me a running start, and a goal... chances improve.  The only thing that can get me off the line before the whistle finishes is mortal combat.  No one ever offers that anymore.  Old and slow, probably not considered much of a challenge anyway, rightly or wrongly.  :)

So... tomorrow... out and about.  A haircut, I wanted to check on their price for conditioner too, lunch, and a bit of shopping.  Hmm... to get up to speed, I might try a bit more force to push into getting things put up for the year as well.  Nothing is, yet, firing well or correctly.  The engine seems flooded, a couple of the cylinders aren't firing right, the battery is too weak to offer many cold starts so I either need to charge it or get the engine idling and get a run going to use the alternator... if it's working.  Yeah, I know a little about vehicles, if not so much the newfangled things.  A little dip into hands on, with someone who does, might help.  Then again, much of it, or so I have heard, is simply black box anyway.  There is still some real mechanical in there.  Anyway...  Yeah, I'll push to get the old jalopy of a body going.  Who knows, once started the thing can purr and run like a top.  For a while.

I finally got some coffee going and am filling up.  Water, in the early morning.  I didn't thing that would help, water first, coffee later.  I won't say it helps, but I will say it isn't hurting, so...  I'll just let the experiment cook for a while.  More water, throughout the day, too.  It really isn't altering anything, so dehydration wasn't one of the problems.  Yeah... I do checks, blind checks, and screwy-louies once in a while, just...  Well, look... hope is nice, but useless without some efforts to bolster it.  Don't pray for God to save you, pray for God to be with you as you find the strength He already gave you to save yourself.  You will be amazed what the two of you can do together.  Don't think I don't try, or just lean on Him.  He's... not that kind of Father.  And I am not that kind of child.  I don't even always agree with Him, if I also already know... it's my bad.

Bah!  Best get some coffee... oh, and some painkillers... down.  Then figure out how to lump my hump to something.  Boogers but it's hard some days.  Later.

Sleep came earlier.

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That didn't help.  I was not able to wake until later anyway.  I'll keep pushing and pulling, win lose or draw.

The lawn hoses, chairs, and table are my first priority, and will remain so until either they are covered by snow or properly stowed.  I'll keep the dishes and laundry in mind.  The laundry just needs a bit of a spin.  Though if too wrinkled, maybe another wash.  Boxes need to be flattened and moved to the garage, in which order though, I'll figure out when I get to that point.

I am tired today, and sore.  It doesn't really make sense.  I'm not sore in the right places for it to be a holdover from bringing lines in.  Probably organ irregularity, blood flow, that sort of thing.  It isn't severe, it won't keep me from doing the little bits I might get to.  It's just a general whole body sensation, as if I somehow bruised most of my major muscle groups lightly, or a half a week ago.  It reminds me of the week after the first week of full contact football practice.  Actually, I may take anicin.  That stuff seems to really help.  I am just cautious with it.  No more than once a day, and no more often then three days in a row.  If it still hurts, it's much better to suffer.  This pain isn't that bad in any spot, it's just that it's pretty much everywhere.  Yeah, yeah, complain and gripe.

It seems to really be chilling out there.  All good.  This is entering my season.  Actually, it's well into it.  Fall to spring is what my body prefers.  Though summer is good, for the change and a reset.  With an air conditioner, summer is more reasonable, too.  When my friend and I went shooting, we did take a little trip up into the unknown.  Probably slightly up into Idaho.  Ended up on a very harsh road.  Regular vehicles wouldn't have made it through.  We also took a couple of very steep angles bypassing huge holes in the road!  I have just enough experience that I wasn't too worried.  Still, that was getting close to the edge of my vehicle's capacity at that kind of tilt.  It was an interesting trip.  I did get to see some of the last of the leaves, most in that valley were a lighter orange to an exceptionally bright yellow.

Well?  I need to wake first.  Perhaps anicin will help, though I don't think pain is the problem.  Sometimes pain helps.  It depends on what exactly the problem is, but like with a vehicle whose cylinders, carburetor, timing, and some other things, can all be off, and not being a mechanic, if it stops... trying to check all the variables and possibilities is just not in my skill set.  So treatment isn't always possible.  Toss in a fever, chills, exhaustion, body aches, or combinations of those, and the task is beyond the 'driver' sometimes.  No spare parts, either.  Just... tear down and tinker.  The thing will probably work soon, regardless of what I do, then stop again shortly after.  You can't really fix a clunker, just use it when it works.

Bah!  Coffee is brewing, I'll take something for the aches, I've turned the heat up just a bit, I may get a shower in before anything else, then I'll see what I can do.  Later.

No such thing as liberal or conservative?

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Seriously?  Here is a man explaining one subsection of the differences.  Yes, there is a difference.  Anyone who is trying to say there isn't a difference is a liar, bold faced liar.



While I deny that the Republican party is conservative is another thing.  If truth is relative, then the party can be compared as more conservative.  If relativism is considered fiction, as I do, then being less liberal does not make a party conservative.  Mike Lee, Cruz, even Rand Paul, and few others, I consider conservative within American politics.  Not the party.  Not most politicians in that party.  Not even a majority of politicians in the party, certainly not in the leadership.

If you are Catholic, and believe in the truth the church has been teaching about the family, homosexuality, or just agree with the family and that homosexuality is a sin, and want to track what is going on in the Catholic church, this guy is a pretty solid in-house reporter.  He hasn't been pulling punches.  He does a better job than I do, and has an inside track. 

I thought there was some understanding.

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Questions of suicide?  From the other day?  No.  Nor is there any plan of violence.  Only an understanding that it is coming.  I would rather not have to go through what may be coming.  It won't be easy and life is already difficult for me.  I don't want to see the suffering that is about to be inflicted, potentially, if my visions are correct.  One might even suggest I am angry about it, since much of it will have been engineered.  Whether from poor engineering or with intent, people will have to decide for themselves.  That beast inside, about which I write?  That will be invoked just to draw up enough effort to survive.

Bad things will happen to bad people.  Bad things will happen to good people.  Bad people will hurt good people and good people will hurt bad people.  But good people will make mistakes and hurt other good people.  And bad people don't have alliances, only daily booty counts and risk assessments regarding who they run with, or kill.  Disease, disputed rule, tribalism, hunger... maybe worse.  I see, clearly, what is coming.

In practical, modern, terms, I am an older, terminally ill, man.  Alone.  Foreign even.  Getting water, should city water end, will be a major effort.  Food?  After stores run out?  What do I have to offer?  Just in practical terms, a serious downturn...  Well...  On the other hand, I have gone without food and water, due to health, for more time than some say can be survived.  I have lived on less, endured the boredom of incapacity and lack of connection.  While that isn't storm proof, it is... something.  So many are so hooked into the world through electronic connection, that if that ends, madness will ensue.  Toss in starvation and...

No, I don't want to see it.  I am not interested in hurting myself, however.  I truly made a deal with God.  At first, as I have suggested, it was just... a duty.  It was grinding effort and required much sacrifice and serious intent.  I kept my bargain.  After those early years, something changed in me.  I could no longer consider ending my life than I could, without absolute and true reason, consider hurting someone else.  Less so, actually, since I can't threaten myself while others can, as odd as that notion is considering all else written.  I can only engage a threat, and that as a last option unless others options aren't available or other people cannot get out of the way, while I might be able to do something.

As well...  Having literally died three times, living with a health issue that should have been fatal decades ago, and having come so close to death so many other times...  Well... it may or may not mean I have a purpose here.  It just seems that way.  I keep wondering what that purpose might be.  I may never know any truth of any of that until after I am no longer alive.

It seems I am no more understood now than ever.  And that was always tenuous, even among brothers of a very special sort.  Ah well...  Still, clearing some air.  As I am able.

No work today.  Too tired.  I am not sore, or such.  I simply couldn't kick a leg, then the other, and keep them going.  Tomorrow, I hope, the hoses, chairs, and table, can be put up.  And maybe a bit more.  For now, it is getting very close to bedtime.  Good night, I guess.

Ah, right, the dream.

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I had to wake up before writing this out.  I remember the dream, as I might having seen a flash of lightning so closely that it burned into my eyes and mind.  As if I felt the heat and power of it.  But, being as powerful as that, I needed to sort some things.  I am still sorting, but...  As being in an area struck by an major earthquake.  One first has to find physical and emotional footing, and reassurances, before doing anything else.  Some suggest...  "just run to safety", or "get out", or such.  They don't understand not having footing, or a way to obtain it.  Sometimes there is simply no choice.

What I heard... received... was that death was not what was preferred.  I asked, and debated the death penalty.  That wasn't the issue, if there was something there.  Something uncomfortable to my beliefs, if not fully contrary.  I asked about war.  Again, not the topic.  It was personal.  A guidance.  I don't fully understand.  I know what I write here.  I choose, when able, to see it as... a thing of fable.  Stories, if with intent and meaning, and some deeper personal meaning, and truths.  I choose to obscure the latter two into the rest, blurring lines and edges, for a number of reasons.

This... dream.  It wasn't an order.  It was advice... it was... guidance... it was... a holy recommendation.  It was also horrifying and terrifying.  A bequest, by God?  Not a command?  Not a demand?  A mere, if heartfelt, request?

Look, don't look at me.  Call it a dream, and write it off.  I will, save... if I find where mercy may be spared, it will be.  Perhaps a bit more, if I can.  I just don't see where such things would be in my hands.  And I do know there will yet be some, perhaps much, death.  A little less... might be possible, if the algorithm is... tweaked.  Never mind.  That, my friends, is a dream that still has me quivering in my boots as jello dropped from on high.  So be it.  Loving advice, a humble request, a blessed suggestion...  I will take and own it, as I may.  But I have to let it be as just a dream, too.  I'm not that strong.  I don't believe... in myself, even with what I have seen.  It must be another.  Never mind... again.

Sleep is still variable.

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I was awake late, and woke late.  Neither was terribly so, and within reasonable parameters given one another.  I had hoped the bit of work yesterday would help with that.  No worries, today is another opportunity.  I am hoping to do a bit more work today.

Lawn hoses need to be coiled and brought in.  As well, I have a few chairs, and a table, which need to be put up.  Some of the chairs will come in.  Some, and the table...  I am hoping to find a place for them in the garage.  Up, if I can make that happen.  Then, dishes and laundry are still in the hoped mix.  Nothing fancy.  Given my condition, it will be tricky to get it all done.  The hall and bathroom, and box take-down, then sweeping and mopping, are still on the menu, but these others are weather priorities.  Time is short for snow, perhaps.

Hope is a... vision... or a concept.  It doesn't have to be fulfilled, or today.  It only has to be held, and in truth.  Some hopes are more sure, if seemingly much more distant.  Some hopes are for their own sake, to allow that next step, and the one to follow, only leading forward, without the necessity of the truth of an arrival.  It is the path that is required, not the destination.  Even for the long sure hope, it will be through the blood of Another that I will see that.  Crushing as that once was, the humility of it finally became enough of a grace that even a monster could see.  So, hope is kept in my pockets, used when at the ticket stand, but never lost somehow, or given away even when used as barter.  A fair trade still.  As with love of the real kind.

Hup...  I best get to it.  Or, well, at least finish waking.  I'll write, later, about a dream.  Those things can bug me.  But hearing from God... sort of gets my attention, even... or especially... when I take issue.  Yeah, no.  I know.  I know!  Just... Well, that is for later.  I have some things about that to dig through.  Later.

Questions, many.

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Answers?  A few.  Enough, perhaps.

Evil.  I have heard it whispered.  If all were equal, every side justified, and no greater truth to be had, then of course.  To some.  Half, maybe more, probably more.  Powerfully.  But that is not how the world was made, it is not of the forces through which it was made, that is not how it exists.

The lines and supply device is in.

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Taking the watering system out was more work than I expected, as usual.  Work seems to simple.  You just do this, that, this, and... that.  Repeat as necessary.  Then stop when it is all done.  Left out of the equation is all the bending, stooping, and coiling.  Coiling a twenty to twenty five foot of half inch water line sounds easy.  A single one is easy.  But first you have to clear the weeds and plants.  Then you have to pull it all into a coil, mud and all.  Finally you have to hold it together while you tape the coil in place.  Still, one is easy.  It is almost enjoyable.  At four it starts to feel more like work.  Especially when a hatchet is needed to deal with weed carcasses.  By eight, there is sweat.  After ten or twelve it simply loses all charm.  Thankfully I wasn't in it for the charm.  I just wanted the piping drained and up.  Which I did get.

As to dishes, laundry, and more dishes, that I can't say.  I am still hoping.  Perhaps after a bit of a rest I might hit some portion of that.  Probably not all of it.  Maybe not any of it.  It's a goal.  The next major task is to get the lawn hoses wound and in.  I have wire wraps, though I am not sure what I have is strong enough.  It would be nice, this year, to secure the coils.  Last year they were underfoot, and loose, all winter.  I do not wish to repeat that.  Maybe zip-ties, if I can find some...  Hmm... I'll bet the electrical kit has a bunch of them.  I thought I bought others as well.

I should sleep well, perhaps early, tonight.  I'll call off any attempts at work after 20:00.  Adding effort onto effort, even as lame as it is, after a certain time, doesn't help me get to bed.  I have to drive the nail home for that.  I don't have what it takes for that at the moment, and that isn't good for sleep either.  It's decent in the long run.  Something about heavy doses of misery used to help keep me in line, at least until health took that over, and into overdrive.  Thirsty, tired, overworked, underfed, and with excruciating demands, with possible wounds...  That, my friends, was heaven.  It's just that the heart, and maybe age, have taken large chunks out of my ability to maintain in that realm.  Misery on autopilot.  Yum!  Well... in the theoretical or philosophical side of things.  Not so great for the practical aspects of life.  Whatever.  Take what you can get.  We are all beggars, I can't be a chooser.  Mostly.

Later.

I'll get to it.

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Couldn't move today.  Not sore, not tired, not grumpy, I simply had no energy.  I just got a shower in.  I am hoping to dry quickly enough to get the water system taken down and stowed.  After that, perhaps finish the few dishes that are setting in a rinse, finish drying the laundry, and maybe start another load of dishes.  Cleaning the kitchen table off a bit, organizing in the process... kitty litter change-out...  sweeping, and maybe mopping...  and a few other odds and ends are sort of on the menu.

It hasn't been rough, it has merely been empty.  That in itself is an improvement.  It may not allow for much planning, but it doesn't interfere with prospects if a light breeze catches the sails.  I really do get the drift, regarding the old true sailing ships.  The dread of hurricane winds and doldrums alike.  A solid wind is nice, but easy to simply take for granted.  Until it is gone.  I must, in spirit and thought, perhaps bodily if not quite directly, perpetually sail Cape Horn.  I live in the maelstrom.  On the good side, I am more comfortable there.  It's the doldrums that shake my timbers.

I seem to be on a minor tilt, however.  I will ride what little sail I can gather from it.  I can't even steer, exactly, having to tack off course just to move.  But moving is better than not.  We do what we must.  If I can get the waterworks down and in, the last of the dishes done, the laundry finalized for now, and put in another load of dishes to a hot soak, I will be quite pleased.  Yes, that would do nicely.  And it is possible.  Not probable, but reasonably likely.  Does someone have a spare shove? 

Later.

It's not about control.

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It's simply health.  Health is something I cannot control.  It comes and goes.  I know that, but it doesn't mean I submit to it.  Which is why, on some days, I have just a wee more bite.

It looks as if health is on the rebound.  I won't say numbness or that the frozen shell with a harsh fever underneath are gone, but they have faded to moments rather than being a majority of my waking, even sleeping time.  When I would drift near consciousness at night, I could often tell one, the other, or both, were still in play.  Getting to sleep and waking were both troubled by the weight of those things.  Yesterday was the first day without those, but with remnants of the exhaustion they caused.  Something I was able to work through, to a degree.

I certainly didn't get everything done.  But I did enough that I am happy with yesterday.  I will finish up a few things today, perhaps start a few more projects.  I attempted to be to bed as much before midnight as I could.  I made it to bed by 23:00 or so, setting the alarm for 8:00.  I woke very early, but stayed down.  I need the rest.  At 4:00 or 5:00 I woke.  I simply did not get out of bed until the alarm sounded.  Between the bit of effort yesterday, and a rough sleep, I am a bit sore this morning.  Not a problem, so long as symptoms are gone and health is flowing back in.  Pain, even typical illness, won't always keep me down.  It's that deep stuff, heart and organ function, and such... when those go downhill, I can't function.

Finishing the laundry, starting a new load of dishes, hitting under the sink and the kitchen, and a few other things are what are filling the agenda for the day.  Oh, and another shower.  I don't need one, I just want one.  Clean.  Moistened.  I'll hit the feet, especially the heels, with the pumice stone today as well.  Moisturizing those a bit after the stone is something I should do more often.  I just hate spreading goo on my body, getting it on my hands.  Life isn't always about "like".  Actually, life is learning to enjoy in spite of dislike, I believe, often enough anyway.

A bit of waking.  A bit of reading.  A cup of water, then coffee, and maybe a bit to eat, as I go on to wake.  Old rice, a little half and half of my own mix, and coffee...  No protein, I think.  Hmm...  Bacon!  Maybe toast?  Sure.  That cracked wheat toast doesn't leave a lump in my gut.  I have actually been thinking of looking for some of the old wheat types, for storage.  Though maybe that isn't necessary when grinding at home?  I've been meaning to look into it.  Desert Cat suggests that modern wheat seems to be just fine when home-ground.  I need to explore that, before long.  I trust, I just... like to verify.  And no two two-legs is quite exactly alike.  Though he does seem more sensitive to foods.  No complaint or trivialization, mind you.  Different ages, races, and types... well...  It is what it is.  Still, only one way to know, for sure.

On to waking.  Good day.  Oh, and... get to it.  If I can crawl out of my grave, you can certainly get out of bed.  Ha!  Later. 

Not just doing.

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Well, I am, sort of, getting to things.  A snail has a pace that I seem to be emulating.  It is faster than that of a corpse, mind you.  I just realized, I actually started breaking out of the morass several days ago, more soft than physical.  I started reading, and playing sudoku again.  I started reading The SHTF Stockpile, by one of the bloggers in my link list, actually.  I decided to start out with a topic I knew, and author I have some pseudo personal knowledge of, and... baby steps.

In some ways, to some people, his work is shocking.  To people who have never heard of prepping, or thought of society failing, he doesn't give them much room to negotiate.  He offers them the door, right away, if the truth is too heavy for them to handle.  He writes as if what I suspect will happen... will happen.  And, it will.  How heavy, hard, fast, and deep?  No one knows that.  No one.  The best admit it, the rest are looking for a credit card number.  We all have our suspicions.  And we all know that location is as important as other things... your location and local connections when and where it hits.  I approve.

I kept trying to look for attempts by the author to take things easy.  I kept looking for shortcuts, false easements, or simplifications.  He simply doesn't offer those.  He does avoid the panic button, though.  It, even I agree, isn't useful.  Yes, I hit it from time to time.  But not for you, for me, because I feel it so strongly.  I know my position more than most can.  I really am tactically minded, and crippled.  After a wolf chews it's leg off to escape the trap, he then realizes... it didn't just get all that much better.  So it goes.

Good book.  If you have kindle, it's a song and dance.  Cheap, that is, and easy to get.  Usually I don't recommend such.  In some cases, it is quite good.  There is theory, if that isn't the core of the book.  Practical notions on a number of topics.  Tools to trade, food to community, water to transport, given the variety of potential causes for a massive downturn in standards of living.  I don't know all, but at 61% into the book, I can easily recommend it.  It's a solid little book for starters who are past their fears and for beginners and middling preppers, at least.  The lists and ideas, but just as important, the hope and the understanding that hope will carry you beyond anything else you could collect.  It's about life after easy life has ended.

Anyway.  After I finish this book, I will move on to Irrational Atheist.  I have been drooling to bite into that.  I do appreciate the author, and many of his ideas.  We have differences, but... those are more minor, detail oriented, and slightly political... whatever that last means these days.  While protestant, of some nature, there are things all Christians can, to a degree, agree upon.  He has a pretty good head on his shoulders and doesn't have any guilt about being "white", Christian, Western, or logical, and it shines through in other of his material I have read.  Now, mind you, I am going to be looking for, targeting, holes in his material as much as support for my own notions.  Not because I feel one way, or the other, about the topic or the author, save that this is what men do to enhance themselves and each other.  Yes, I will debate any notions I see as weak or wrong, maybe suggesting what I do like... or not.  Women and minorities don't seem to understand that judgment is vital.  It's a good, necessary, required thing.  If you fail, try harder.  If you can't, you are in the wrong program.  Life is hard, some things require correctness.  Anyway, that is my next.  Perhaps, if I even get there, and keep going, an entertainment read now that I have a few sources for non-queer material, and then back to an attempt at the heavies of theological theory.  Bleh.  But, actually, I do enjoy it all... as long as I am not offended by lies from start to stop.

Later.

Opportunity.

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Why now, not then.  Why here, not there.  Why this, not that?  Can't care.  When a chance to work comes available, the choice is simple.  Grab it or roll over and go back to sleep.  I only do the latter when I don't have a choice.  Today I do have the choice and have made it.  Even if nothing else happens, I have broken through.

It started with a simple shower.  Not really work, though yes it is.  Just standing, sometimes, is a trial.  It isn't a lack of strength so much as a lack of a link between flesh and mind.  The marionette is solid.  The strings are strong enough.  But the master is not at hand.  I had thought to put laundry together, and start a load.  That never works well.  Shower first, then laundry.  At least in my home.  It's not as bad as some places, it just isn't ideal.

Showers are wonderful things.  So very simple, elegant, invigorating, cleansing.  They are technology, too.  I love it when someone laughs at the notion of a shower being a technology, and then watch them choke on their snit when I ask if, out in the forest, even near a stream, they could create just such a system that works in all weather, offers temperature controls that work for at least years without effort, and offer all the surety and safety of what they have in their homes.  Yes, we live better than kings have ever known, and without slaves and servants.  You have no idea how well we live.  Go out camping, then don't come home.  Even the houses we live in are warm beyond compare, the food we get we can afford to ignore or complain about, even with such vast amount of choice.  I do become perturbed, though not just at others.  *mirror*

Never mind.  Shower taken, laundry in the laundry room, I put a load in.  Then I set the last of very few dishes to a soak/rinse.  I needed to sit after that, so decided to post.  As soon as I can, I will handle those few dishes, and put what dirty dishes I can find into a soapy soak, check the laundry, and maybe begin tearing into boxes.  Oh, and earlier, I hit the toilet with cleaner and the brush.  It may get a second strike, depending on how it looks after a rest and some other things.  My neighbor had a funny look on his face the last time I spoke of putting boxes into a local bin.  So... I won't do that.  I either fill my recycling bin, if that will do, or take them on into town, where they have a public place for them.  I got the feeling he was... informed... that this bin is not really public.  He wouldn't say it, but friends don't always have to be told.  And, if friends, just... understand.  Wrong or right, I do my best to... be a friend, and good neighbor.

Recently, I saw items for sale that I have wanted for some time.  Real mops, of the industrial sort.  Not only do they last longer, for many reasons, they are easier to maintain and work so much better.  The homey mop bun type mops I have are okay.  But when used with my strength, and fairly as I don't attempt to abuse, they fall apart rather quickly.  They are good for women, because they are light, and women aren't able to use as much force when ringing and using.  My native physique and strength just doesn't work with typical domestic goods.  A rolling bucket, an inner dirty water bucket, and solid mop handles and mop heads were purchased.  I am hoping, through the laundry, dishes, and boxes, that I can clear and sweep the back entry hall, middle bathroom hall, and bathroom, then mop as close to the clean as these old floors can offer.  Mop, maybe twice, then rinse, and let dry.

Today?  Don't even look at me like that.  I will do until I don't, can't, or my body won't.  Oh, toss in getting the water lines in.  Yeah... No.  Not today.  But maybe over the next few days.  Then again, who knows.  Later.

Daytime is shifting.

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A few hours at bedtime, a few in the morning, not necessarily in the same sleep cycle.  Though, what, exactly is a sleep cycle?  Is it morning to morning, or bedtime to bedtime?  Or... both, and not?  I mean, can't it be the most recent of those, at any given time, thus making it a variable thing?  Honestly, humans can set parameters and move forward within such notional realities, but without strict adherence, which we aren't good with, we will yet vary.  This used to drive me crazy when I watched humans do this.  I was young enough that I hadn't tried, or when I tried, if I failed, I quickly forgot.  At this time, I realize it is a human norm.  Not that I have given up on trying to my life as static as possible, especially difficult because of my health and psychic fog from various things.  I am just not dedicated to it as a possible truth.  Never worry if you don't understand.  Though, my guess, in a discussion, if you could invoke a Q&A, you would not only understand, you would find that you are quite as infatuated with the notion, and easily as incomplete in your fulfillment of it.  As we all wish to be young, handsome/beautiful based I hope on our sex, smart, organized, and such, this thing is a desire for most, at least those who have seen well past simple living, and I don't mean countrified by that, I mean able to see how optimized some part of our personal or professional life could be.

Hmm... what was I saying?  Never mind.  Yes, I just woke, and this morning my mind is buzzing.  Why?  Oh, right.  Because my days and nights are trying to shift.  I didn't get to bed until midnight last night.  I set the alarm to absolutely no good use.  Then, at some point, I did wake and try to push through and get out of bed.  I thought noon had come and gone.  I was sure I had checked the clock several times and that I had seen noon both times.  But I just could not wake!  Not fully.  I asked for Sassy's help.  She has learned caution.  No biting, no scratching, no jumping.  If fully asleep, and she creates a reaction, it won't be a good one.  Gentle approaches work, but she can't quite be gentle when hungry.  Still, with a little help from me, she has learned to approach, and encourage petting and ear scratches.  I am trying to get her used to walking, not stomping, on me too... but that is beyond her I think.  The day was slipping and yet, there I was, stuck.  Switching awake and not, without a way out.

When I finally woke, it was to some relief.  It was only 10:00 and small change.  Because of Sas's help, I did feed the girls right away.  She did very well, with a little coaching.  Sam won't help, for whatever reason.  My guess is she is the true gorilla terrorist, and has received the harshest punishment.  Do not pounce, do not claw, do not bite!  Purr, walk upon, seek pets, gentle.  She refused to learn until she learned very hard.  Taught her to fly, most likely, and often.  I have no pity.  Anyway... it was a bit of a relief. 

Today?  I have no idea.  I am pretty zapped.  Medicine is going very regularly, except when I miss it.  three nights in the last two weeks, and two whole days that were... totally missed.  I don't remember missing those days, it really was just losing time.  Two days?  Missing nights isn't all bad, if not optimal.  But whole days is uncomfortable.  I, for the last few years, haven't done that much until this summer.  Three to four years ago and missing days, several in a row, wasn't uncommon.  And, before that, even in engineering school, missing months wasn't extremely rare.  I don't like the trend.

Never mind.  I am awake.  I will search for opportunity, and take what of it I can find.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Last night I tried something different.  I am not a fan of maple flavored pork sausage.  Not just as is.  However, I had an idea.  Sausage patties, fried to a solid doneness, with a slice of onion and cheddar cheese... with rice.  I couldn't be sure if I would like that, but my internal flavor calculator said that this would be good.  And, you know what?  It was.  Delicious, if not eaten too often.  I enjoyed it for supper, then had the remnants for breakfast.  Darned good.  Maple, cheddar, pork, and onion, on a bed of rice?  Weird, even to my standards.  Though not my only profile that is odd, just the newest one that hit the mark.  It doesn't have to be fancy, or complicated.  It just has to actually taste good, really good, for me to add it to my list.

Hmm...  Water lines really need to be put up.  I think I will focus just on that.  If anything else happens... goody.  If not, I will be happy with just that.  Oh... no editing this "morning".  You'll just have to figure out the notions through the flaws.  Later.

I shouldn't tease.

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I put this up last night, but then rethought.  I'm still not sure.  Hate, when sensed, brings out the predator in me.  But not a single defense is used.  Fear, seemingly my own, and the hater's... An appearance of weakness, and strength in it.  A call, a shout, a dare, and more.  It will only bring in certain types, the most dangerous of types.  It will baffle, dismay, even shame, lessor evils.  My reaction is as hardwired as... what would happen if they did show.  Ah well...  I'll post it.  Understand as you will.
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Sometimes hunger is greater than wisdom.  Not even a pair of them would suffice.  Yes, I... suggest very unwise things, on many fronts, from time to time.  Still... if some hater is going to leave a psychic trail in my ao...  A predator is what it is, and it will react.

Someone wants to join the club.

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Mass shootings, Dems down in the polls...

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It's just math.  I wondered what they would be doing to get out the vote.  When that fails, what next?  And, of course, legit or not, expect the media to twist everything.  Oh, don't even look at me like I am stupid.  If you are looking at me like that, and are sincere, grab a mirror.  They will do, and have done, anything and everything to win.  Honestly, I am starting to believe obola cases are an attempt to grab more power to do whatever it takes to win.  Risky, but these really aren't the smartest communists on the block.  Not that there really are smart communists, if you take the long run into mind, even here on earth.  Most "powerful" bureaucrats in pure tyrannies get fifteen minutes of fame, then the gulag, quickly followed by death if they are lucky.  Usually their family goes in with, or after, them.  Evil really doesn't ever win.

Yes, I actually believe these things are being manipulated.  I did expect some things to begin happening.  And, yes, I expect more.  A campus shooting, some false flag raciss event, who knows.  Ferguson looks to be heading down to the wire, especially since the truth got out on their murderous thug of the week.  Watch yourselves out there.  These people have no care about using you as a shield, bait, or simply taking out their hate on you.  Keep it loaded, keep it close, and pray.

Later.

Roses?

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A scent.  Something disturbed my... turbulence.  I couldn't tell what it was at first.  Impossible!  I don't know what roses smell like.  I couldn't tell a rose from a tulip or pansy.  I am philistine regarding such things.  Yet, there it was, and I knew.  Red, too.  I know.  Just something.  Even if there is no difference between scents involving color, this scent is not purely mechanical.  No, I don't understand.  I simply know what wafts through the air, or my mind.

Awake and... good?

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I am not quite awake enough to be absolutely sure.  My right arm must have been slept on, as it was asleep when I woke, as awake as I even was and now am.  Over this half hour of waking or so, it isn't quite back to normal even yet.  Better a slow waking than that excruciating immediate wake-up that limbs sometimes go through, I suppose.  And, even asleep, it functions quite well.  Typing isn't impaired, if the right side of the keyboards seems to being clicked as if bubbling solid champagne or something.  Bubbles!  Nerves are such odd little things, innit?

As I mentioned, I actually feel pretty good this morning.  A little of the frozen fever is still there, but it isn't as pervasive, dominant, in blocking my view of life.  No energy on the scale, but that is normal for the first few hours.  That may or may not improve through the day.  With the main usual problem not as much in my face, I may be able to get to planning.  Even if nothing else happens, planning is good.  It whets the appetite for doing.  That, in turn, makes even small windows of opportunity a bit more inviting.  I may well get stuck half the way through such a window, but a little of something, like action, is better than none.

Once in a while.

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Tonight, as an example.  Often lately, near bedtime.  I didn't find this place by using drugs, or necessarily the life I lead.  Pain, a lot of it.  Pain itself became it's own painkiller.  It stacks.  And stacks some more.  Eventually, if you live, you are here.  The frozen fever arrives with it.  In the mornings just the frozen fever.  A bit of midday is almost normal.  I'm not sure if it's a good thing, now, or not.

Nothing today.

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The want was there.  I looked over tasks, both those mentioned and others, as I would traipse here for this, go there for that.  Just going to and fro was as much as was available.  No spare life-jackets, no spare boats, not even room in any case.  And so it went.  The girls were fed, their litter tended, a light lunch was prepared and eaten, meat and fish thawed.  Not one more thing.  Even gaming has been more than I can do.  Medicines are continuing, mostly, as I can remember.  Mostly...  A very good description of life right now.

I did have a few visitors.  Missionaries.  Womenfolk.  They cannot enter without a chaperone.  Fair enough.  We just talk at the front door.  A possible upcoming event, discussions of faith, and other topics.  One of them is a little... high strung.  She is thinking a family, a couple of ph.d's, and big city living is for her.  I didn't want to tell her, but if she goes for even a single ph.d., she needs to remain single.  A career?  Pretty much just give up on a family, or maybe have a pet husband or three.  City slicker types.  Can't tell them anything.  She will learn.  For now, she hears what she wishes to hear.  I hope, if she actually is more family oriented, and has a first child before she is too grossly involved and indebted to choose otherwise, she will realize what priorities are important.  No telling or her.  Secular nun working hens, or married women, that is what education opportunities provide women as to choices, save in precious few situations.

Something else might come of it.  They visit folk who raise sheep.  I asked, then rethought.  I wondered if that family sold their sheep publicly, small scale.  Then, as I suggested, I recanted.  I didn't wish them to cross business with duty.  Ah, but they will ask, or so it seems.  A sheep, a hog, and half a beef a year would see me comfortable.  Fish and fowl, as well, as it may be purchased, for variety.  I'm a meat eater, a beef eater as the Brits called their Scottish men at arms, and for good reason on a number of fronts.  Oh, did you hear?  A survey of centenarians found that most who lived to 100 and older were heavy beef eaters and often had a shot of something a day.  Not a single vegetarian in the lot, if I think vegetarians mean to die younger.  I can't do the shot a day, but the beef part is well tended.  Perhaps I will hit 80?  Don't laugh, you might choke.  I've already survived the doctor who misdiagnosed me, perhaps knowingly, thinking it would be my end.  Oh, yes, I do... chuckle.  But I don't laugh.

I will keep focusing on doing something, almost anything.  It's been rough.  Getting out, or doing things, busts me up.  I'll keep at it, in mind and spirit, if not body.  Later.  Hmm... perhaps good night.

Just topped 56k.

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I am trying to wrap my mind around that.  Pageviews, is what the number is about.  Now, I don't mean to chase people off, but I don't write so as to keep them, either.  I am not writing for pageviews.  I merely try to get some notions set out to be reviewed, explored, or simply to be rid of them.  Oh, I know, 56,000 isn't that many, compared to what some get.  Vox probably gets many more than that in a day.  I suppose there are even some who, over the course of time involved, get fewer.  Neither is the point, and it wasn't a goal.  It just surprises me.  That is, assuming I can trust the number.  Which, to be absolutely honest, I cannot.  Up for some reason, down for other reasons, it is definitely wrong.  Still, it is what I have to go by, like a clock that is off, odometer that is on the fritz, or social input.  In any case, it was one at a time.

I have just over 5,000 posts.  That means, in theory because while one number is sure, the other is very off (doesn't always count foreigners, or even some US commenters, for example), there have been about 11 views per post.  Who knows how many legitimate readers went unaccounted, and how many of those visits were by spambots.  As mentioned, I have these numbers, and nothing else, so...  Then again, this was over eight and an half years.  Not exactly a whirlwind pace.  Just numbers.  Insignificant.  But... mine, sort of.

Hmm... on to something to eat.  Later.

No idea.

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I can't remember when I went to bed, or going to bed.  I have this feeling I do know what it is for an asteroid to hit terraferma though.  Thankfully, I was nowhere near water.  I went in at a low angle and fast.  Made it all the way to paydirt.  Then buried in deep.  No dreams, no shuffling, no rolling, of which I have any awareness.  Now that, my friends, is sleep.  I wouldn't want it that deep every night, but on some nights it fits.  Last night was such a night.  As complete of a computer reset as I get.  And I don't seem to have slept wrong, so nothing was damaged in shipping.  Booyeah.

It was 7:00, or a little after, when I woke.  I couldn't believe the time.  It's a good enough time, no doubt.  I just can't believe I slept so long, so hard.  No memories of rolling, minor near wakes, and a sort of strange timekeeping through the night from various things, even though I am mostly dead, is a rare thing these days.  Still, as tired as I was after yesterday, it was perfect.

Today?  Rest.  But while resting, plotting.  I am hoping to get back on track with some of my projects.  I do need to get the drip watering system in.  Perhaps, someday, I will find use for that still.  I would like to clean out under the sink, and get that ready for work.  And maybe hitting the bathroom with broom, mop, toilet brush and clorox stuff, plus some dusting might be good.  Oh, and with the table being maintained at nearly cleared, I would like to make some headway on that, in preparation to honing a straight razor.  I don't know what will happen, but as I try to peak out a weak, possibly or not accessible window of opportunity, those are what I see right away.

I was thinking of something, as I was falling yesterday evening, but before I hit... then this morning, while initializing...  There are people out there who seem to know who I am and what I write, here.  Some approve.  More approval than not, locally.  I can see it in faces and eyes.  Some do not approve.  Those who do not approve have this frozen rage on their puss.  A burning hatred seethes from within.  Delicious, do not think it causes me an iota of concern.  I know, and they know, there is nothing they can do.  At twice, and more, of some of their ages... with a heart that is well and truly at deathly levels... they know I would eat them, without even a thought in the raw.  Yes, boys and girls, my virulence in some things is obvious even now.  A knife in the back, or a bullet from behind, might not even see them to their wishes, and might well see them ended even then.  No glory, just guts, they lack both, and any courage of their convictions.  The stench of fear...  I don't know if it's right to own, but the Lord does know I... enjoy it immensely.  When I was of a darker nature, it was one of my tools outright.  Now, just a faded, deserted, dessicated reminder of another time, transposed onto the efforts of a shadow of the light.  Absolutely delicious.  Then again, who knows.  One of these jackals may end up offering this lion a final beautiful death.  Not one iota of concern.  They can't win.  Evil can't win, that's part of that gig.  *gruesome grins*

Well, a little time to wake, then an organization of effort perhaps.  Hmm... I ought to think about food for later too.  Fish and rice?  With either brussels sprouts or brocolli?  Yeah, but thawing meat for tomorrows, too.  Later.

Sometimes...

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Every once in a while, a woman can sing my words, in her ways and tongue, so very well.  A daydream reminded me of just such an occurrence.  Perhaps more a minor nightmare while awake.  Okay, there are some nightmares that get to me a bit more than most.  Just not the typical ones.  A bastard of many things, but there... needs to be a medium, sometimes.  And so it is.  How does the calculus of the bastardization of it all work out?  Ask God.  That's what I do.  He has merely suggested not to worry, so long as I remain true.

The sun.

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It's slowly starting to light the world.  I'm not sure I am ready for it.  Going out there later will be a bit of a stretch.  That's not a horrible thing, it's actually a good thing.  But so is a tracheotomy if you need it.  Need, want, not always the same thing.  I am a bit tired still.  I would take a quick nap, but I don't think it is possible.  I have to be able to sleep in order to nap.  Simple math.  It just doesn't work out.

I am considering trying to get a shower and maybe head into town early.  A hair cut.  Not really short, not with fall and winter about to tackle my poor old corpse.  The cold really doesn't bug me, and yet I don't want to just leave myself to it's less than delicate abuses.  A little extra hair helps just a bit, and in a number of ways.  The question, though, is whether I can pull it together to pursue a coup against time.  At 8:00 and change, I have a few hours to take a shower and still have time to air dry, perhaps three hours.  I will need to be pretty much finished by then if I want to get in and out and still be on time.

The world is certainly cooling off.  I really have to set up a time and date, then push to retrieve my drip watering system.  It, mostly, worked.  While there are weeds out there, it is nothing like last year.  If I had been able to do much this summer, I probably could have kept up on it.  Maybe the weeds have thickened since last I looked, if I doubt it.  Yeah, no garden next year.  Hmm...  I might try to help out a neighbor though, by setting up a drip system for them.  No request of vegetables, no cost, just for something to do.  Have them call me if something goes wrong, figure it out, and slowly get them independent on the system.  Then, the next year, do the same for another neighbor.  Hey, it would help me learn to keep a system up and going, how to customize.  I would learn much, help my community save water, but not have to do the daily daily, which seems beyond my grasp, currently.  Yes, I think I will make that a goal.  Through the winter I can stock up on a connections, lines, study, timers, and be ready to install the system as soon as they plant.  It's not a great expense, but it isn't free either.  It really does help with the weeding, and water bill, too.  More than most might suspect.

Hmm...  Oh, right.  Back to trying to shake myself out of slumber.  Later.

Slept like a log.

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It was definitely one of those nights.  I can't be sure when I finally went down, though I think it was 19:00~20:00.  Earlier and later being slightly possible.  I was beyond exhausted when I crawled into bed.  I decided to let the girls sleep with me, even though I knew they make sleep a little more difficult and reduce the depth of it.  Without them, I can just flop to this side, or roll like a bear.  With them, I have to... be aware enough not to squash one or the other of them.  They have amazing anatomies though.  I could only probably kill one of them if I trapped it under me while still asleep.  Sam got rolled onto lost night, but was quickly extricated having little more than a slight whine of indignation.  Didn't even move after that.  I doubt if she fully woke up, nor did I.  Kids!

I woke right around 3:00.  That, I do believe, is the witching hour.  A fiction, as I mentioned, created by those afraid of the light, and the truth.  Better to create a fiction to believe in, I suppose it may be believed, if one can't really deal with some realities.  Well, and for some, the truth just is dull.  And, yeah, I suppose.  Like driving 1,000,000 miles without an accident is dull.  Honestly, in spite of all my various off-roading... I really like the road.  I was either forced off, or had no other option.  But I have always liked the road, even when I hadn't used it for long periods of time.  Stick to the road, if you can.  I have never understood those who try to go off the road with the wrong vehicle, in the wrong place, at the wrong time, just for variety.  I never will understand.  The witching hour is based on just that.  And it's a wreck.

Lovely morning?  No clue.  It can't be, actually.  Because it is morning.  Later it might be a wonderful day.  But not until the notion of morning is gone.  Not that I find mornings, in general, to be bad.  They are merely bland, gray, sometimes hard if forced.  And yet, in some small way, I enjoy.  That time of the day to reset and restart.  If I can do it slowly, I enjoy it much more.  Usually, as today, I can.  The hope is to get beyond the fog and into something, without having to force it.

My friend called last night.  Shooting, tomorrow?  Urhm, when, noon or 13:00, or so?  Yes, he thought, that might be right on.  Very well, so it goes.  I locked in and will keep my promise.  Time, for me, as mentioned, is give or take.  Lord knows I try.  Reality happens around me, only including me as it wishes.  It might be 14:00 or 15:00 before we are out.  Though, sometimes, I can be there, then, somehow.  Magic.  But, I will be there, and as on time as possible.  Which means, sometime this morning, a shower.  Hopefully with enough time to air dry.  I must be a lizard, or dog, or something.  Oh, I'm partially dressed while air drying.  I'm just not a nudist, as oddly inhuman as I can be I do love to be covered.  Though that may be more tactical than... moral, or social, or... whatever, too.  Do not get caught with your pants down, or whatever might serve as pants for your mind's comfort zone.  Indeed.

Chuckles may abound, while waking.  Things look much funnier in the near view mirror.  While waking, distance is already quirky, perception is slightly off, inhibitions are slightly lowered, and you, my friend, are deliciously easy to play with, if in the same boat.  Women learned to laugh with, and at in return, or go hide until their funny bone was prepared to be rubbed.  Same with my girls (cats).  Some days various egos are up to it, some days, like this morning it seems, not so much.  Sassy is suggesting I not touch her.  I merely ask, through the eyes, if that means noogies are out.  Haven't seen her since.  Yeah, she knows when I am up to no good.  *crocodile smile*

Ugh.  Morning, I think I said.  And no one to gift with noogies.  Blah.  Later.

Daytime is a struggle.

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I'll keep at it.  No nap today, if the one I took yesterday was far too late, doing more harm than good.  I really thought about a nap today, but didn't get to it in time while having no interest in repeating the fiasco encountered yesterday.  Still a bit sore from getting out recently.  Recovery is rather quick, and the more I get out, the quicker recovery is and the milder the strain to begin with.  Too inactive this summer, if that hasn't been a choice.  I will simply keep trying to figure out how to do more, get out, work, and play.  I'm a crippled animal, not a stupid one.  :p

It is overcast today.  That is actually a bit of a comfort.  While my sunburn is already gone, the memory remains.  A slight fear of the sun has returned.  Which means, I really need to get out soon, again, to not let that become more of a problem, or my weakness to the sun increase.  If it hurts, if you fear, head right on in or quit and go home to hide... for the rest of your shortened miserable life.  As tough as my life already is, I refuse to relent.  So, I need to get out.  Plus, it's fun to look into the sunny face of my enemy and take all the radiation he can throw at me, with a smile.  Burned smile, but it works.  :)

More coffee, as I try to maintain consciousness until supper arrives.  And a bit more.  Just being barely conscious isn't enough.  I have to be aware enough to want, or see the need at least, to eat.  I am hungry, but then I try to always be a little hungry.  Well, that is optimal.  A bit hungry, a bit thirsty, a bit tired, and a bit horny... in the right mix... that will see you to hell and back.  Hell, like any big city, is a place you go only for need, and a place that might be interesting to visit, but you wouldn't want to live there.  So always figure out how to escape either, should you have need to go in.  Just saying.

Later.

The beasts.

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As I have mentioned, I have dreamed of being animals.  An eagle, a bear, and a wolf.  I most strongly associated with the wolf, but such is not a real choice, only a conscious one.  Through time, I have collected items that represent each, save one.  For the eagle, I have a ring that resembles the beak and skull, or variously and for some, a talon.  With the bear, I have a fetish necklace, made of turquoise.  These things sort of came to me.  Often without thinking.  One was bought as a gift, but one I could not relinquish.  The other was a foolish bauble at the time of it's purchase, unseen for it's purpose until later.  I kept wanting, and trying, to be rid of the latter, until I realized I couldn't, and why.  I have been pondering how to obtain something of the wolf.  Something true, but not disrespectful.  Something real, but not of a killing nature.

Last night, I was visited by a large wolf, in my dreams.  It was the wolf I had been.  Still large, still strong, but much greyed.  It spoke to me without words, through the eyes and thought.  It told me I already had the items I needed.  I searched recall but could not see.  It saw my confusion.  It suggested something I have always suggested myself.  It is in the eyes.  I didn't fully understand, in the dream, or since waking.  I am not sure I believe.  Sometime this day, however, I will look at a video of a wolf, and go reflect on that in the mirror.  I am not sure I believe, quite yet.  I will know, when I am ready.  Could just be a silly dream.

Later.

---------

Hmm, after looking at dozens of videos, most so stupid (scientific) or suicidal (animal love crap) that I won't even bother to post them, I didn't really see the connection.  Probably just a dream.  Still, it was neat.  Some dreams I just can't help but enjoy.

Long sleep.

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Yesterday, I woke at midnight, then didn't get down for a nap until... 15:00?  Close enough.  I slept until 17:00, but stayed down until called.  Supper then, not long after, back to bed.  I shouldn't have tinkered with a nap in there, but I wasn't going to make it without that.  I can't be sure when I went to bed, but no later than 19:00, I think.  Almost 7:00, and I am just awake.  I woke several times, and the girls were beating on the door.  Brats!  Seriously, that is just rude.  I suspect Sam, most of the time.  Even if food and water are good, if she wants to go outside, she'll mess with the door.  I think she has friends visit.  Probably a fixed male, but she likes him anyway I think.  Probably goes out so they can just stare at each other.  Bah!

I have taught the girls, to some degree, that messing with me is not wise.  I am lenient if it was a very long sleep.  I sort of consider them back-up alarm clocks.  They have learned that they will not be fed anytime near when I wake, though they may still plead, lightly.  No!  Still, knowing that they get food four to six hours after I wake does... fit into the calculations, and energy used in their efforts.  This morning Sam sounded like she was becoming a rock drummer.  Gah!  But, fair enough.  I'm up.

Today?  I don't know.  It's been rough.  I know I am missing medications, even with all my effort not to do so.  Sleep and waking is messy.  Dreams, a chilled over fever, and some other things, are adding up to an odd, sometimes uncomfortable, walk through a very hazy natured life.  Oh well.  I will get better.  Or not.  I have survived decades of far worse.  A summer of discontent is better than even a month in a complete fog-bank.  I'll just keep looking for doors and keys.  Hmm, for the most part, I'm not even grumpy about it.  Just a bit sore and stiff when I finally get to something, for a while.  That trip to town has left me feeling a bit weak and battered, and sun-burned.  Still, sometime in the middle of this week, I will get out again. 

Get to it, if you can.  Later.

Hit a nerve much?

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The Lord knows, I hope so.

Always decisions.

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The pope versus God?

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The pope suggest that God is not afraid of change.  Of course not, He wrote history, knows the ending, designed the program, offered men the choice of choosing unfailing truth or lies.  Hell, He created Lucifer.  But that doesn't mean He accepts change.  How can He accept change if He doesn't do it?  Allowance is not acceptance, much as allowing your children to fail, fall, and do wrong, then correct, is not an advocacy of doing wrong.  If the pope wishes to debate things, I suggest he do it in his heart, in prayer, amongst his wiser associates, not with my Church, traditions, Magisterium, or any such thing, let alone logic, so long as it is well known that God is not a being of change, nor for it.  It is clear, that if God changes the goalposts, many will be lost.  The enactment of the Second Vatican Council will eventually be abandoned, or the Church will fall.  It isn't even that the thing was all wrong, it was merely that the wrong signal was sent to the wrong actors at the wrong time.  It will have to be... corrected.  And the bad actors will have to be dealt with.  As the bible says, God does not change.  If the Church changes, then it veers away from God.  I cannot recant.  That would be denying the bible, which is much more than it seems.

I may not seem Christian to you.  But that is because you have been taught very wrong things about Christianity, Christ, and much else.  You have been fed adulterated notions of many things.  You believe in equality, even of sexes.  Equality only exists for those who may be culpable, as they can be culpable, in the eyes of God.  It is not a thing of flesh.  You believe in the state, and law, as morality.  You are dangerously confused.  Let me ask you this, would you give your life for your faith?  Would you even risk your job?  How much of your faith have you tendered for your own gain or satisfaction, or even mere acceptance?  Probably best not to debate this, though feel free to hate.  I would highly recommend against that, but... if God leaves you the choice, who am I to naysay?  *grins*  Hate is a form of suicide, the hate of another cannot damage me.  More so since I know it is flesh that is the illusion, as such things go.

Scoot.  Go cry to momma.  You will receive no succor here.

Burned.

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Even before I went to bed, if doubting my eyes, it looked like I had a sun burn.  Seriously?  I was out of my home for only about three hours, most of that time in my vehicle or in a store.  The only times I was outside was, when at my friend's place, he was finishing his cigarette and then when he had a cigarette after shopping.  In both cases, I mostly kept my back to the sun.  Sure, it isn't burned to a crisp, but lightly red with some slight puffiness.  That is just crazy.  I'm doomed!  Wait, I AM Doom.  Never mind.

I did set up the new pillows.  I do think they will work.  Even with them being a change, I woke without fresh kinks, aches, and pains of adjustment I had been waking into.  There are small aches and such in the neck, shoulder, and head regions, but those are remnants from yesterdays.  Echoes that should iron themselves out before too long.  Pretty whiny for a monster, I know.  But I have the time and little else to focus on.  If God sees me to a wife, she will... give me something to whine about, but no time to do so.  Which is why I will return the favor by giving her a child, then more.  You know, I don't think that works out quite like it seems, which is exactly how God planned it.  You don't get ahead until you are so far behind that you can't catch your breath.  Then, when you find balance, and catch your breath?  Then, on earth, you KNOW heaven.  He's... tricky that way.  It's just that so many have lost faith.  They want heaven now, and always, so much so that the only way to find it quickly is to exclude God.  That instant heaven, however, is exactly what those of faith know as hell.  Damned addictive, too.

Never mind.  Look... if you think I am evil?  And I am telling you that the ultimate good in, and beyond, the universe should receive your kneel?  It makes me laugh when people call me evil, then ignore my advice on how not to be evil, or what evil is or isn't.  If you are considering drugs, talk to an addict who would make another choice.  If you are thinking about having sex before marriage, talk to an older person who has had many affairs and found the fulfillment of emptiness and those who are now irreparably diseased.  Thankfully I hit the one before stumbling into the other.  If you are going to ride wild on a motorcycle, talk to some of the long-timers and those who have lost it all for fun.  Don't listen to those who are just about to get off the bus into whatever darkness with you.  They know not what lies ahead.  Don't ask the ones waiting to prey on you, either.  Your stupidity is their meal plan.  Just a thought. I have nothing to gain from your success or failure.  I don't get a percentage of tithes, I don't get a free pass to heaven for some number of sign ups, heck... if I am a giant, truly, I may never see heaven.  I gain nothing, only some satisfaction that another soul might stumble, haltingly, humbly, into a bright new true real future day.

Burned?  I can still pull boiled eggs out of still boiling water, but I can't handle a bit o' sunlight?  Maybe it really is some sort of more literal frozen fever.  It sure feels like it.  Ah well, I'll recover.  I told my friend that I would be in later in the week.  Shooting, probably.  He thought maybe he hadn't heard from me because I was angry.  I told him, if I was angry, he would definitely have heard from me.  Though I had to add that, well, I am angry at him.  Just for general purposes, and no more than I am angry about anyone or anything else.  That got him to chuckle.  Which... made me angry!  :p  Yeah, no worries.  I think it's all fun and games, in one sense, even when someone loses an eye.  That'll teach em', or me.  Remember, "em'" is me backwards, without even the fancy punctuation tech gadget.  Huh?  Shut up.

Later.

Oh, urhm, sweet dreams.

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My dreams have gone in many directions.  I am not remembering them, always.  Relics of the notions remain, and have been being expressed.  Among them, some... guilty pleasures from dark days gone and done.

Hot!

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Bright, too.  Even with my sunglasses on, my eyes feel as if they have been flayed.  That orb in the sky is something else.  I guess it isn't as tilted as I thought.  Hot!  Everything I wanted to do was done, and my friend got to go where he wanted to go.  It wasn't exactly a heavy day, in one sense.  It was enough.  Did I mention how extraordinarily warm it was?  Well, it was.  Just saying, if I hadn't mentioned it.  Oh, I am so looking forward to winter.

Summer is lost.  Fall is going quickly.  I hope I don't sleep winter away too.  I truly would like to get out a bit, before long.  At least I enjoy winter temps.  Though, at least in the cave, with just rather, usually, sparing use of the air conditioner, I actually didn't have a problem at all with the summer heat.  And, yes, I feel it, even with all.  It just didn't seem as bad this year.  While I wasn't out much, I was, usually, on a day cycle, mostly.

Oh well.  A few more hours up, and I will be nearly back to days.  I suspect my sleep cycle will yo-yo a bit, before settling on days, hopefully.  I'll get there.  Later.  Maybe good night.

Yes, a trip to town.

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A bit battered and tired.  My eyes are all buggy from so much sun, even hidden well behind the curtains.  I don't, really, feel like going.  Actually, I don't need to go.  There is time before I completely run out of the last of my consumables and such.  No matter, it has been decided.  It will be good for me.  It might help me break into the day almost completely.  Well, and the right pillows would be quite nice.

I called my friend.  He didn't answer, but seems to have his voice mail set up.  I left a message.  I will call when I get into town.  Hmm... the pillow store, first.  Groceries after that, and after picking my friend up and going for lunch, if that happens.  I like to keep my groceries as cool as possible.  Then again, I need ice.  I just buy packs of it anymore.  Cheap enough, and easy, and if I remember to take an ice chest, that might allow more latitude regarding the ordering of my trip.  Not that I will most likely need flexibility, but it's nice to have. 

I am a little nervous about going out into the sun.  I believe I have sun glasses that will cover my regular glasses, and are dark enough.  It is only my eyes that suffer.  The paradigm shift from dark to light is a little problematic, but less of a bother than bright light is to night-bound eyes.  I may be a bit sensitive to the sun.  At least it isn't fatal at great speed.  Especially with the angle being such as it is.  I best get going.

Later.

The sun, again.

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I am slowly closing on making the sunlight a regular sight.  I may not be doing more than a few things, but those things are vital.  Medicine, cat care, food, and... at least looking around for a bit more even if I don't do it.  Well, actually, in the last few days I seem to have been missing medicine.  Or I lost a whole day.  Difficult to know.  I am trying.

A shower this morning.  Much needed, greatly appreciated.  A bit of stone to foot, shampoo and conditioner, and a triple lathering.  Yes, when it has been a bit, it's nice to hit it with the works.

I am hoping to drag through the day a bit longer, and maybe get to town.  If I think I am going to make it, I will call to see if my friend wishes to get out.  A stop at the grocery store, a visit for those pillows, and maybe lunch.  I am almost sure I will be awake long enough.  I am simply unsure if I will be strong enough to launch an assault on the road trip required.  A few more hours and I will know.  Time to air dry my desiccated but clean corpse.

Feeling better?  I go through the frozen fever hard, about the middle of the early part of my waking cycle.  I can get hit by it from time to time after that.  Mostly, by this time in my waking, I am mostly through with whatever that is.  I don't know, but it seems to be hitting me in my sleep, as well.  My dreams have been dark.  Well, you should be able to tell by now.

Get to church, if you can.  And, if you ever wish to do me a favor, say a prayer for me.  Never mind the health, or dreams, or that.  Just... pray for my soul, and the strength to do as God commands.  The rest is meaningless without that.  If you, as myself, cannot make it... say a prayer at home.  God knows.  Dark times, dark sights, a dark future, even if right.  Later.

Dreams, flame, ice.

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I cannot change what is.  I messed with the furnace, I have sought minor remedies thinking perhaps it is just a bug, I have prayed and thought and looked.  I suppose it just has to burn itself out, or freeze back over whole.  Until then, I will simply expose the wounds.

Servants, not masters.

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I have been having difficulty with one of those who was given the reins of my most important associations.  Some forget that they are servants.  A lord, a prince, even a king, has some grant.  But that grant is extremely, and precisely, limited.  I have written of it, much as I have written of lessor associated princes failing, and the whole system just allowing it.  Thankfully, unlike the US system, it seems the Catholic system is not without checks and balances.  The pope is not getting his way in secularizing and humanizing the church.  I have feet in every grave, and yet I put my faith in the foot I have in life.  It seems I am not alone, regardless of the leadership, in all sectors currently.

Those who divorce, gays, and everyone else has a place in the church.  Much as beggars of all stripes.  To some extent we are all beggars, of forgiveness.  However, we have no right to advocacy for our particular faults.  As a fact, those are only allowed if denied.  A particular sin does not give one special rights.  It actually gives that particular sinner special prohibitions.  I approach the church with this, distinctly, in mind.  I have sinned with many women.  As such, I come to the church in debt for that.  I... love the taste of war.  I crave it.  And, so, I come to the church in suffering, and pleading.  I look for mercy and guidance, not... acceptance.  I bleed, in the church, for my sins.  I know each has cost Christ.  Hell, even if I am called to dark things, even then, I would do so reluctantly, cautiously, prayerfully.  So well taught that I don't want even what I greatly desire.  I will hurt for want of not doing what may be required of me.

Thankfully, unlike broken democratic republics, the church refuses to ignore truths.  Some still know what a servant is, and how that differs from being a master.  Even Christ suffered when He could have chosen otherwise.  He certainly did not want what He knew was His to bear, asked that His price be recanted, but then accepted what had to be.  This pope doesn't understand that.  Oh, it's sliding.  From top to bottom, as communards says and devise.  But it hasn't completely fallen yet.  And... don't just look to my church.  Look very closely into your own, and your heart, and God's words.  Thankfully, no pope, bishop, priest, or layman, alone or possibly together, is the faith.  Know that for yourself.

I will review the new writ, see if the church is salvageable.  My faith is beyond doubt, it just may have to exclude liars, thieves, cheats, and despots, but more... sinners who choose sin over truth.  What is odd to me, is that the so called conservative bishop is the one, and from the nation, that pushed for this... egalitarian pope.  Thrown out on his ear.  An abject lesson in politicizing faith.  Just deserts and whatnot.  Woke grumpy, you ask?  Nah.  I was born grumpy.  I enjoy it when I'm not ranting... well, okay, some rants are quite a pleasing thing, when righteous.

Later.

Little things only some might know.

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I am enjoying the sun.  Not bravely, openly.  The shades are as closed as I can make them.  I avoid the rooms which are flooded by the light and heat, or scurry through as I may, when there is no choice.  I can feel it anyway.  Almost a long lost love, trying to rekindle the warmth of a loving embrace.  So bright, so warm.  It is not the ice or cold that I fear.  It is what awakens when the fire within breaks loose.  As the moon and the sun, while the two can be seen plainly together, only one is dominant.  As with those two, it is flame that wins when both are in attendance.  Fire, as with real life, is a more immediate... danger.  If even this is of a lesser nature within what causes true concern.

The sun.

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Rising, easily seen.  I am awake enough to realize it.  I can't remember the last time I was awake enough to be aware of it.  All I know it, when I first realized what was happening, I knew fear.  As some fear the dark, I suppose, when I travel on certain paths, the sun is a cause of fear for me.  It could be merely that a rather fundamental change is taking place.  The world is going from muted shades and sounds, to color and heat and activity.  Perhaps, at one time, there was more than just the fear of change involved.

Of all the stories of monsters, most notably vampires and werewolves, I am surprised they haven't hit upon one of the truths of these creatures.  You cannot be made into such a thing.  Either you are, or are not, of their lines.  Many who are of such lines, however, have no more clue about it than they might have of any other genetic condition.  Until awakened, and only if awakened in certain ways, could such a thing transpire.  Which is why many monster movies... slay me.  Oh I laugh, I do.  Imagine a movie about albinos passing on their curse through a bite.  Well, such things bring a dark hope to hopeless people, I suppose.  There are always some who think grass is greener on the other side, in spite of the toxic warning signs.  I am a writer, of sorts, right?  Whether a monster of mixed lines is a whole other notion.  Stick to the notion that I am a writer.  You'll sleep better.  If a monster is real, and even if it is reformed, it means there are some, or many, others out there.  Monsters who aren't reformed.  Still, even that shouldn't worry you.  Monsters only feed on their own, and those who seek what cannot be given.  None of them are 'vegetarian', mind you.  Not even of the reformed.  *wink*

Not much is happening.  I hope to finish the last of the dishes.  Other than that?  Fire under the ice, again, most of last night.  No, I am not ill.  I am simply not well.  There is a bit of a difference.  I am not sure if the cold, or the fire underneath, is worse.  A metabolic war?  I don't know.  An odd thing.  I have it from time to time, but the war between to two seems much more profound.  The fire is very hot, but the cold is deep and unyielding.  I only notice either when they begin to battle.  No, that wasn't a story.  Actually, I had written that post before finding the video.  They do fit so well, sometimes.

I did make a bit to eat.  The leftover rice, a can of beans, and a pound of hamburger.  Toss in spice, fry, put in a tortilla, and... it was enough.  It isn't exactly wonderful, but it isn't bad.  Sour cream is a nice touch to finish it off.  Milk would be wonderful, if I had some.  Coffee doesn't go well with food, as I see things, so iced water sufficed.

I am going to attempt to stretch into the provinces of the sun.  I seem to have missed a couple of things, of late.  I actually saw them coming due, but could do nothing to... deal with them.  A call, or two, would have been enough.  I simply could not react.  Frozen, it seems, not just not the shell of my flesh.  At least I am keeping some things going, and well.  I may, actually, reduce my medicine over the weekend.  Just cutting down a bit, in the morning doses.  Perhaps that is the problem.  I should know soon enough.

Later.

Midnight.

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Thereabouts, in any case.  A wakening.  No, not the witching hour, mind you, that is later.  That notion is unsound, anyway.  It was only set to that time to hide nefarious belief systems, it never was a truth in fact or belief.  Then again, there are no truths among those who seek to be unGodly.  God IS truth.

Discussing God recently, someone believed that God is an egotist, demanding sacrifice and worship.  Most, of course, do misunderstand God.  Beyond God being a noun, a being, He is also verb, both passive and active.  Truth, for example, or the real fact of science, is a facet of God.  What God demands is that we choose what is true, what actually is, and not believe as we wish.  As to observance, He asks nothing that He Himself does not attend.  He decided, from all that is and could be, long ago, what of it is God.  So it is.

You cannot tell people who have decided, for whatever reason, that God is wrong... pretty much anything.  They choose what they will, usually so they can do, or support, what they want.  If you want to believe in homosexuality, while ignoring that it bears no fruit, then you have chosen to believe in a lie.  One among many.  Hating God is a potent illness, one there is little chance of curing.  Such medicine requires two participants, and is not easy even then.  I have helped to cure this, of a lessor sort.  Well... lessor?  Different.  Perhaps worse in ways.  Hating God means there is belief.  Relegating God to nothingness is worse, perhaps.  And yet, that is where I started, not even half my life ago.  Half a life is relative, but it adds perspective.

I heard something, in the twilight where I lived, through the dark, but sure, and true.  When I realized what it was, I pushed it away.  As the wind to a mountain.  Did it come to me, or was it always there?  Difficult to know in the dark.  When that failed, I hid, digging deeper into the notion of being my own king, in the truth of the illusion of darkness, and some other things.  Fortunately, I had limits.  Some lines I would not cross to ignore (escape) Truth.  Eventually I ran out of room to run, places to hide.  So I challenged the voice.  I wrestled, to me at the time, for the very freedom of my soul.  I was free, why would I choose chains?  The voice was more potent, more sure, and actually offered truth and freedom.  I still... struggle with that, but not because I believe otherwise.  I merely wish, at times, to believe otherwise.

God, if "she" exists, I was told, is a woman.  Ah, but I have been there too.  It is merely an affliction of men who do not wish for the responsibility of being men.  And women who cannot find a lord.  After reading the bible, NT, OT, and listening and hearing the voice, I came to understand.  Well, and remembering being over there, the second time, into death... a minor seeming detail that has become a massive understanding.  When you remember a place where no lies can exist, you realize that when you believe something that isn't true... it isn't belief, it is willful disregard of the truth.  Men were born to rule.  Rule women, rule animals, rule the world.  Running away, or trying to pass it off, only leaves us feeling free to do as we please with these things, without consequence.  It is a lie.  The only reason, for a man, to believe God is a woman, is to be free to be a cad, and worse.

It would be easy to say that men fail at what we are called to do.  And, that is true.  And we will fail until the rightful King takes his place, and teaches all things, then makes us true kings.  Even then, it will not be as it is today.  Sin will no longer be known.  Some of what passes for sin, and is truly sin, now, will pass away.  Nakedness, for example, will no more be a sin than clothing, a cover for sin, is now.  As children we are to approach Him, and as children we will be.  But now, and then, and before, are not, and never will be, the same.  They aren't even similar.  Regardless of failure, turning our backs on our duty will not spare, but spoil faster, an already dying world.  And so it goes.  But our duty is clear, as the male sons of God.  Choosing to not accept our birthright is far more of a sin than taking it and misusing it.  Further, just because a man is called to be a lord, this does not give him the right to misuse.  This, too, will be judged.  Men and women will not be judged the same way, or even for the same things.  A man will be judged for attempting to create the lie of equality, a woman will be judged for failing to be obedient.  If this whole line of argument is just a stop-gap for those who wish not to be culpable for their guilt, or even a party to it.  Even if they deny, men most certainly do rule.  Just remember, the best of rulers rule lightly, and rarely, merely creating the station through which all their trains run is often enough.  Let them figure out the details, only make sure the way exists.

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I have waken more fully.  I did some of the dishes yesterday.  A small thing, but... a change, of sorts.  Something from nothing, and nothingness.  I have reset the remainder of dishes to a fresh hot soak, since waking.  I made fish yesterday, and rice, with broccoli.  I thawed meat for today and tomorrow, at least.  Such small little things.  As scraping diamonds from the bulk and crust of the earth, it is little things sought, and found.  Precious, however, if marketed properly in any case.  It is hoped that today will see more digging.  A little bit is beyond mathematics to compare with nothing.  And so it goes.

I would love to get into town again, soon.  I do need cream, and would like to try various other pillows.

I may not be, or do, much.  But for a thing that should be dead, and worse... probably damned, I do alright.  I'm still not sure why I was called back, or reserved from death and damnation, so often and so harshly at times.  I have learned to have faith and do what it is I do, as well, and often, as I may.  It is good to not have worry, true worry.  I know what is over there, I know the options, and I will not surrender to anything less than heaven for anything of flesh.  I won't risk my soul, but I will gladly risk my life, for what is right.  My priorities, finally, are as straight as they can be.  Perhaps I can teach, help.  Perhaps I am merely here to perish in some horrible way, as a lesson that separates men of flesh from men of Spirit.  I leave these things in Father's hands.  Amen.

More, perhaps, than I first thought.

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