I usually see several things, in any given picture. Usually I look for a forethought and a pre thought about it. I want to read the past and see the future of everything I look at. A still image is never just a still image. A long movemental composition is.. never just a sad song or .. happy song.. or.. a song with one theme. To me, the music I listen to, especially the songs I refer to often.. they either have a complete story.. or tell their part of a whole story.

I thought about this just now.. because I've spent long periods of time trying to identify the differences in the way that I think and the way family.. friends.. or people in general that I clash ideologies with.. think. Therein might lie some justification for my actions: past, present & future. The future, especially, as it helps me feel better & reach a state of conclusion. I have much to do, still. A few necessary atrocities left to commit; I am still at war, after all, and eager to end it soon and for good. I am, but the terms have long changed from being an exchange of hostilities. I want to get home.. not more or less than that. It has taken me a long time to reacquire that place, let alone plan to move off for it.

The essence of the justification I seek in my own hande is that.. only I know the things that I want.. or can see the twists and turns in the path out in front of me that I am beginning to roll down. It is good for me, only, therefore I only must go. There will be no peace, for me.. in my own life, until I've won out.

The basis of the justification I've reached is that.. their thinking begets their outlook begets the paths they choose. The paths they choose are, at the end of it, the product of what fits their thinking and is right for them.
As is mine, for me, according to that... and therefore the actions I have taken and will take toward my desired path.. are legitimized, even if I am the only one just enough to concede that.

Even if no one does, I require this justification for the sake of my own noisy conscience.. the sole source of second thoughts and lost momentum I can think of. I have spent a long time in the service of others.. and adhering to the thoughts of one person or another, above my own in precedence. This changes more, the closer I get to understanding the validity of my will.

There are no words. Not at all. I'm still quite in denial on this one.
 


Love him or hate him. Grew up with him or just rocked him on the radio, head the message once and for all, cuz now the messenger is gone.

:( The King.. has left the building. Rest In Peace, in the hands of God & the glory of his kingdom, MJ. You will be missed by everyone from everywhere.

I have a handful of pictures left of me when I was a little kid. Most of them are heavily damaged.. by time and the basement floods the survived. I'd want those there so I could remember way back to some point in time when I and my life weren't so grown up or complex.

I can still remember, vaguely, back to the days when some of them were taken.. but most of my memory ..before.. say..7.. was etch-a-sketch erased by the multiple seizures I had, up to that point when they finally did stop for good.
  
I have one.. of me when I was maybe 4.. sitting on my dad's lap on the.. oldest couch we used to have. I have another of me drawing and putting together this.. broad little drawing of outerspace.. which I laced with.. these little gold stars that I found a sheet of.. the sticky kind. I drew it on the back of white card stock that I rescued from the trash :D. I worked on it for maybe 3 days before I finished.. and I took a picture of me finishing it.

I remember those. Then there's one of me.. no bigger than 2.. being held up to put up a candy cane on a Christmas tree. I don't remember back that far.

I would put those things in there so I could remember something other than being poor, in squallier or conflict with someone or everyone. That's most of what I remember from 7 on up.  I'm not bitter now, but if I had to choose something to remember about being a kid, I'd choose to remember my early childhood, thus those are the pictures I'd choose.

The other things I have, on my person, worth preserving are the things I brought back from Boston. I brought back a knife that was later stolen,.. and I was given several pictures.. some small gifts.. and this little ..bracelet.. locket.. kinda thing. I also have the.. last letter written to me, before I left there.

I have chosen to keep these things because these are not only mementos of my very first love.. but they are keepsakes of the very first time I stood up for something important to me and against what I considered to be a terminal cycle of life, before that. Even though I've long since moved on, I think.. throwing them out or.. destroying them

I used to have a CD, but don't anymore, containing the recording of the first piece of music I ever wrote and produced.. it was ripped from the the single evening performance of it in front of a small night crowd.. couple hundred or so. I was able to salvage the audio from the badly destroyed copy. The song was written for Kirsten.. and I still listen to it, from time to time. Not really because it reminds me of her or sinks me into any hurt about it but it brings back my very clear memory of that night.. from the seconds just before I began playing to open the song, till the.. 2 minutes after that, where I was shaking hands and thanking people for showing up, still fresh off the high of genuine applause and a handful of hoots.

Listen, if you like.

It reminds me of something I did right.. absolutely right. It's precious to me because it reminds me of my capabilities.. which I often forget or second guess.

I would make another copy for this capsule.

A war began, in my life, a few months before that. It wasn't started by me.. but going to Boston was my way of striking back.. my instance of defending something I held dear.. and, if any of it had gone well, complete secession into a brand new, granted fragile, life with nothing but the most important things.

If I could find the time to create it, I'd sew a flag, to fold up and put into the capsule. I didn't think of it so personally, at first, but there was a sort of emblem that I fashioned from the image I could think of the very first moments I fell on my face after that effort.

It's this, if you're curious.


In a period where I have.. lived, breathed,.. transformed.. mutated.. bidden and borrowed time to use every motion for the sole purpose of carving out a path, a swath if need be, and asserting my own will in life, it became sort of a symbol.. like the American flag is to patriots.. or the Confederate flag is to racists and people with rebel spirits. It's followed me, for the last few years.. and might stay with me for ages to come.

I doubt that I'd ever forget it.. unless by some chance.. the end of my life is that much more peaceful than it is now.. or in the future that I can see. In that event, then I'd definitely still want to remember how I spent my youth in vigorous contest for everything that mattered.

These are all things that, for the most part, I find it difficult to carry into the future without it seeming like I'm unable to move past those times. The truth is that I'd want to keep them because they were important things. Each time that they come from was a time of either transformation or transition or.. revolution or renaissance.. that I'd rather not forget, the way I've lost my earliest memories.

All that being said, I might well make a time capsule, for the purpose of preservation.. as I, indeed, move on.

I just answered this Featured Question; you can answer it too!

How do I proceed from here?

There is an impending invasion.. and I have few to no more resources to mount resistance.

Once again, I am rewarded for trust with vehement betrayals across my circle.. and for giving unconditional love with an irony driven demise of that bond. This was only last night.. and until just now, I thought it was possible to escape being hurt.

Once again, not so simple. Even if I wanted to wage a fight of principal this time, though, I couldn't. I wouldn't if I could.

I have conditioned myself to believe that cynicism is my enemy. That pessimism is what slows me down. These are things that I've been told, at least.

I now know like I've always believed, though, that it's been irony and circumstance who, together, have always had me out-maned and out-gunned.

Both legs have been cut out from under me. The.. questions I have in my head are... how I continue to put up a fight, in this condition... and even if I were capable of it... what do I fight for, next?

I am the king of bouncing back. The mother of all hard-to-kill bastards. The ayatollah of vengeful resurgence.
The dials in my head are turning, conceivably to point me in new directions and outline a new set of objectives.

I just don't see where I'm going with it anymore, for the unshakable sense that no matter what I do or where I am.. I will fall back to this same Earth.

Edit:

.run { shutdwn
}
.run { restrt
.del { hist_2009
}
    .run { SpartanV.exe

          .load { S5objective_list
}
    .setOS { SpartanV.exe

Let's do it.

Edit: Where there is a will there is a way.

So. I haven't updated in a while. I've been busy. Dunno if that's obvious or not.

So, let's backtrack a few months :D. I've been in two relationships.. one very short, one relatively long, but neither worked out. Actually.. the second isn't over, even though it is.

The problem with both is that the women involved are cheaters :D. The good news is it doesn't hurt me anymore so much as it disappoints me often. It could be because my heart is one of igneous rock now, or it could be that I've grown up/out from unconditional attachments. Either way, I'm mostly unscathed.

Why is the latest deal not done, you ask? It hasn't been that simple and for whatever reason I was initially able to get past it. Now I'm not so much, having realized that it's only aggravated my trust issues. This leaves me with an unkind decision that I've now to make. I am not used to deliberately hurting people and I haven't found a way I'm comfortable with. It'll come, though :D.

It's also not done because I've been busy. As I might've mentioned a few times, my home is under threat of invasion. My M.O. has been to get the F out, just like I've already done once.. only not under as urgent circumstances and much better armed. To put it simply, I'm fleeing. Obviously to an undisclosed location.
I need space and opportunity to dig in and start over. Because of what's coming here, I feel the time is now.

Because of these particular invaders.. I exaggerate none when I say all life will cease to exist in this house, after. God have mercy on the rest, but I don't intend to endure another x years of it. Not when I'm perfectly capable of avoiding it along with changing my circumstances.

I've done lots of asking around and reflecting.. just to make sure this is absolutely necessary.. and the consensus seems to be that I am in the right.. and the general idea within myself is that.. I have an entire lifetime still ahead of me.. and so the time is most definitely now to take back my streets and get busy living.

This is a war that, for 5 long years, has taken me up down, across states across rivers and timezones. To hell, heaven and back. Now it's time for that to end.

So for the last few months I've put all energy, resources and what I can gather of cooperation into the next and last rocket powered big adventure. In a few days, I execute.

And when it's over. I'll work on the repaying of the various debts, large and small, that I have incurred in wartime and of which I've not gone unmindful, and then get back to conquering life... one day, one degree, one aspiration and achievement at a time.. as I was on the way to doing before.

I've wanted to travel some more, since returning from my.. visit.. to the east coast, anyway. There is, indeed, no better time than now.

It definitely promises to be a big adventure. :D.