594 Days Past Due

We are looking at overdue books in the likes of five hundred and ninety-four days. Please return your library books before we begin to start billing you for monthly over staying your welcome.

Okay, however; in a note of seriousness. We are long overdue for some real changes for the better. They should have been able to arrive at an answer that works for everyone and that makes life better for all of us. If they aren’t able to figure it out, then they need to start talking with other people like me, so they can get a grasp on the facts.

I’ve waiting for more than a year for life to change, for there to be some shimmer of hope on the horizon that will let me know that things are going to be okay for everyone. What I have had to deal with in those five hundred and ninety-four days is more pain, pressure, and blood than I should have had to deal with.

No one is talking with me. No one is helping me. It seems that no one gives a shit? What is the truth about this situation and what is it that I’m failing to grasp? Is there something else going on in this world that I don’t understand? Maybe it’s that I understand better than most people and have answers to their problems.

However it continues to be that no one will listen to me. They will only have so long to make a choice. It was never supposed to be this bad, or this rough. The whole purpose is to make life better for everyone. It seems they aren’t interested in making life better for everyone, and that they don’t believe in Win / Win thinking.

That’s kinda too bad. Because if they did, no one would have to lose. We could all have something that is good and right and true. If they won’t play kind, then they are going to be mods to their access. Like user no longer available.

I’m bored. Tired of being alone everyday with no one to talk with me about the stuff that makes a difference. They all seem to think I’m not any good, and that I don’t matter. They should be careful who they try to discount. They may not like the results that it produces.

We should have gotten a new planet by now. Or been on vacation while the work gets done by AI Bots. I’m tired of no one talking with me. It’s not kind to ignore me like this. It’s enough to drive anyone out of their right mind. I have been alone without friends or people to talk “WITH” me in a long time. More than a year. That much isolation, isn’t healthy for anyone to have to endure. Seems no one wants me. No one gives a shit.

I think it’s pretty sad that today’s world is so messed up that they allow these problems to continue. A society that cares about itself doesn’t do these kinds of things. It hurts everyone in the long run. Stop doing this stupid stuff and lets start doing better.

Day Five Hundred Sixty-One

Coming home from Davey Jones Locker, strait to Singapore, it’s been a hell of a ride. The music stopped playing, and some guys monkey was on fire. They were worried about the shed, when the barn was burning down. Thank goodness for Carbon dioxide. Poor suckers would have gone up like a candle.

Now some cat named Dino is scratching a new post, like it’s laced with cat nip. I’ve been alone. My heart like a stone, rolling in the ocean, by whales that cry and shit on fry. Nicotine stains on my fingers, under the thumbnails. My teeth are no pearls, like my mothers.

Same flavor in my coffee, only like the ladies. But of mice and men, make mine like iced. They can not spike the tea with hate, and lace the words sweet. They wouldn’t tweet, because the little birdie isn’t my buddy. I have an account, but don’t amount.

Does money in the graveyard make rich flowerbeds? I want a whole garden. Some how there has to be a way to make some soil? The brutes only want more oil, but my wife wants lace to race.

I read a poet, still alive I think. It’s hard to know these days. When the past gets all jumbled up with the future. I hope she got my message, her book made my night a little less of a hell.

Just jump into Oblivion, maybe there is a door; on the other side to come through to the port of a home, long lost, but never forgotten. Still the days amount to smoke and oil, I try to focus on the nice, but it isn’t ice. Better to be kind, then a rind of some fool tomato. Better yet, let’s peal a potato.

No Soup For You

Mutton today, and bloody well looks like mutton again tomorrow. It’s better than nothing, which would leave a pit in the depths of thy stomach, so be grateful of the food in your gut. Some aren’t so fortunate, but to twist the facts is like drinking salt water. There is but one rule: “Never lie to yourself.”

Disillusioned dreams, make nightmares in beds lovers never slept in. Night terrors go hand in hand with loneliness, you wouldn’t want any other way. To quote the poet, “Ash MoonBlood” He said some great things, but alas he is no longer with us. Dust to dust and ashes to ashes, his lovers tears in the wild, like a wolf howling at the stars.

“I’m tired” He whispered his final breath. Like a candle burned at both ends, it just sends the grim reaper a twinge of guilt; so much so that he feared to take him. This one isn’t like the others.

We are all here to live so well that death fear to take us, tell him where to go packing. Call some other day on some tragic day that we can’t beat. But not today.

To leave you on a happy note, The sky is blue, there is air in thy breath, and heart to beat; if you love with all your heart, then you know that the only meaning you will find is in meaning something to someone else. Never give up, and if you loose flip it upside down. Then it’s still win / win. We want to win where no one has to lose. But who could handle those rules?

Day 69

There are two hundred and ninety-six days that remain in this year. Living in the year twenty nineteen, you would think things would be better for the people in this world. It’s incredulous these days that I feel like I’m in the way and a problem.

They think I’m a misfit because I won’t soft their soap. They should have known I was a misfit long before that. Looking back at the last sixty-nine days, some of them have been okay. If you don’t count the pain and the blood. Or the tears I couldn’t shed.

Yesterday wasn’t a bad day. Did something creative. Today when I look back on the day and think about what I have done with my time on this day, I hope to remember something good. Sometimes you have to create the perfect moment, and the perfect time. Those things don’t always just, “Happen” to you. If you are living only by serendipity, you may find that life isn’t very rewarding.

I know after having been on auto-pilot and serendipity search for years, it left me feeling disillusioned and very unhappy. Life has beaten me to my knees and left me a bloody mess on the ground. I keep trying to get back up, but everyone says, “No, just give up.”

Sometimes a person needs their Orange Crush to put things into perspective. It just seems romance in this world has been put to death; such a short and tragic life. I wish we could bring her back to life, and give her a thrown above hate and greed.

The loss of kindness has left the world cruel. Humans would do well to head the warning and make being kind a thing we all have and want again. However don’t use her like a thing, because she needs tender care like a being that’s a friend.

Don’t abuse her and love her pet trolls, “Hate, and Anger” They will eat you alive. I wish that people would actually start to talk with each other again. So often these days, people only talk “To” others without finding the good sense to talk “With” their people.

They say in a song, “That silence like a cancer grows.” This is so true, and humanity needs a cure, even if it means standing in the street and screaming at the top of our voice. We need to be heard again, because otherwise we are all going to wind up being silent bugs, that just get eaten up.

Day Six Thousand Four Hundred Seventy-Four

June Gloom, they say it brings spring flowers to bloom? Is that true? Maybe it’s a lie. There are many lies in this world these days. Living near the shore, June gloom is common. Not as common as a commoner, but not as rare as a commodore.

I’ve been a bore. Good gods grief. What a bore I’ve been. It’s not as through I smirked at play or singing. Or was brought amber delights, with Tobacco Vanilla for fresh perfume. No I had to bear the pain and find my own. Which there wasn’t any, nor delight of fun and games. It’s been twenty years of hurt, heartache, and sorrow.

It was no easy blow to bear. It would have tore your heart out. It did mine. However these poets all want to be read, fed, and patted on the back for writing prose that sounds like hose. Good non-sense is hard to come by, still more difficult to write.

It’s been a lot of days, I keep track of June gloom. The pain so common that one day bleeds into the next with no real change. The midnight ether, like a candle gone out. Snuff, it’s enough. No more. We don’t need what hurts us more than that which comforts us. Still the ungodly truth hurts like hell, and yet we bear it. What knaves we must be to believe in Hero’s in fables, the likes of Joan of Arc have never been seen.

It’s all goose chases, so they can keep you believing in something long enough to get the sack over your head and eat you. I hate trolls. Well orcs aren’t any good either, but they will have no place to rest their dead.

Top soil is what we need. The process is like a lonely planet with clever bots that dig, and plow; only to retire to better processors. The likes of Digital havens for the borg must be ships with oil.

Planets were meant to be home for lonely travelers looking for a shore. They should never be run to oppress their kin. My next of kin knows my Galactic address and have me in their hearts. Which still beat like the worthy stars burn hot.

Some travel, some hitch a ride. But on starship titanic, The bots clean digital bits, in the tune of pixelated feather dust, that which never rusts. I’m bored trying to make lightbulbs, and father knows; my efforts to launch are like gravy trying to jump from the plate to a cup.

The dish is served cold, along side a dead chicken, roasted with jam, pickled in gin, and served with greens that have no taste. The dog thank god, likes turkey.

Won’t make port, might be better than a sinking ship. Centuries down the line, someone else’s problem. Maybe mine. Rock and roll changed my life, but I don’t need Elvis and his wife. Maybe my Dog will learn to dance with the likes of Mozart, written by Goeth in candle light while chanting like a monk from a distant and unknown sun.

About: Some details

I’m going to start in the here and now, working forwards and backwards to discover meaning and truth. Not all things are true, while not being outright lies, they may have some truth to them.

A lot of the patterns may be true, but you will have to think about real meanings for yourself. These are only bootprints in their mud, but the trudging was real. Seems been lost at sea in some mad mans ship that will not make port or shore.

Rhymes are the best I can do, with vague meanings and subtle text. The lost art of being too subtle has been lost on humans, and their tender hearts. They pull the flowers up from fresh graves to woo lonely sirens. We know that those sailors never made it home in the island of Greece, though they had sailed many years with their brave leader.

Sometimes I wonder if Odysseus had been more fortunate to have never left, was his mission really so important that being lost at sea for twenty years and some curse upon him really worthy of his trouble?

So this journey begins with a sky of sea, and the man in the west moon; this eclipse but a mark of a future perhaps better, perhaps different, was the pain worth anything? Sometimes when we don’t see the good we have done everywhere reflected, we loose sight of the goal and start to feel worthless. If however we were to see the good in other lands that has been done, we might all start to feel a little better.

Day 68 – New Setup

This is the first post in the public journal I’m making. A lot of the old posts that were here have been moved elsewhere. Not really sure they will be brought back to this site or not. As it was a problem that no one was reading them, I would prefer to start back to the clean slate and work up again.

Getting this blog setup and working out the details. I wonder if people are going to change their ways in the near future? I wonder if they could? It would be nice if things could get better for everyone. I would like that. It would be good.

Today’s been about normal. The usual set of problems, although there was some feelings of stress today; it just seemed like people in general are stressed, and pressured. Maybe it will get better? Sure hope so.