caffiene and chocolate

and crackers and cheese spread and shrimp and meatballs and sausages in barbecue sauce and six different fruits and six different veggies and five different dips and six different crackers and six different chips and five different sodas and three different champagnes and several different beers and brie and ice pops and fudge pops and pistachio nuts and more... that's part of the menu for tonight... better fast today, aye?... did i mention four different lindt chocolates?... hey, we're getting the blogs confused again, but at least the upbeat is back, double aye? (aa, almost a fonz)... hi ho :)

more than survival

it is not too much to ask for in this life, more than survival, especially when i definite that as sharing... but there's too little sharing in this life to meet my definition for more than survival these days and that, for anyone reading or caring ever, is not bullsugar... fall down go boom sobers one up i suppose...

no worries, the [whatever this is] will return soon enough...

the difference is why

and somewhere deep within the words (or perhaps between the lines... betwixt?) there may be a difference (or was that just a failed intention?... time, posterity, and the judges of obscure literature may one day tell, but for now, we'll just play with the possibilities and hope for some discussion on the matter, or on any matter, for that matter, or this matter, for that matter, whatsa matter you?)...

bullsugar!

maybe i ought to get some sleep soon

ridiculous, no doubt, for i have the days off to do as i please and while i am relaxing the body by lazily doing none of the chores that rather depserately need doing around here, i am still giving into my nocturnal nature, which might not be so bad if the phone didn't ring regularly throughout the day cuz that's when the rest of the world is awake and expects me to be and i ought to turn the phone off for a day or two next time (cuz nobody else is gonna do it, aye?), snarf...

the day is simply too short for my natural circadian rhythm...

all through the night

and to think, i was nodding off way back when, eight or nine hours ago, long before i let the emo rise and flow over the flood gates (oh, if there was only someone around, we'd have fallen in love... emo pouring over flood gates can be quite dangerous, ya know)... someday maybe i'll figure out where to upload all the words (and you can wander around trying to find them, aye?)...

the magical mystery tour continues after all...

since last time

some of my xmas reading cuz all that peace on earth takes knowledge (and a strong stomach)...

so i watched a lot of videos on the youtube to fill my head with stuff cuz stuff is the essence of knowledge (and a strong stomach)...

and you thought it was all bullsugar (i know)...

attention!

it's been a brain-fest weekend so far as i've watched at least a few dozen videos, probably more, some more than an hour in length and more than half educational in a legitimate academic sense... and there's been reading involved too... you can find some of the links in previous entries here and over at bullsugar, which has become the sister daily blog to this one... and there've been many new videos uploaded to the two video blogs... and even some babbles uploaded to the babble blogs... and more, but just cuz i love attention and want idol worship for my massive amygdala and hyperactive nerons and all-around brilliance doesn't mean you have the time to explore, find the evidence, believe in me as i do, and sit there typing words telling me how great i am...

of course you could, i mean, we know you can do anything you want to do... and i'll return to the music now cuz songs are such good things (and you can't stay a stranger to a song... unless you ignore it)...

kind of like everything else, aye? :)

bullsugar! :)

this secret is personal

bullsugar might be the sweet side of bullshit, but it also might be the playful side of fake doo-doo and in the end, perhaps it is a chocolate creme pie in the face that pretends to be poop and leaves you wondering (unless you are the one tasting the creme on your very own lips)...

in other words, what is real and what is not?... you have to get close enough to taste me to really know me... narf :)

auto-posting

yes, it's the new thing i've been doing as i swim through the never ending stream of babbling, setting entries up for automatic posting at some later date... i've got them all over the place, popping up and surprising me when i least expect it...

just one more layer or wrinkle or whatever in the bullsugar :)

continue

more videos popping up, tuning in, turning on, tapping out...

more to follow :)

bully on sugar

yes, as real as it gets, there's another side of much more careless realness and that is the hedonistic self-indulgence of the sensory fun this body can enjoy and it is definitely a serious bull market on sugar in this body these days and there may be no let up until i suddenly stop, as i've been known to do...

wonderfulness, for as long as it lasts :)

yes, that's it...

the previous entry sums it up so well, or at least starts to a bit and heads in the right direction, so i could expound and perhaps should expound if i only could remember what i was thinking about when i was talking about what i was thinking...

sharing!

weirdness arises again

most of the time it is a memory cell that slips and forgets something that causes weirdness of the personal kind because without that memory cell, the uncertainty of precisely how and when and what exactly happened and whether i did it or someone else did it or...

so linkages in recent posts around my personal blog world and emails found filtered by the software (was it filtered into the junk folder by microsoft or by my virus program and why did i decide to look at the junk mail tonight for the first time in months to find a six day old email that came in on the 16th of all dates?... ooooo, weirdness :)

yeah, so alone, i make of it what i choose... and if anyone else was involved in this weirdness, he or she will have to say so...

huh? :)

yeah, something about where i left myself

or where i left off... or perhaps just a random series of connections, links to some other worldly long and winding trail (with many possible tangential diversions) that once upon a time may have thought to represent me, or so someone thought (was it me?... huh?... on the right of the real?... who is driving this bus, anyway?... or that bus, for that matter... what matter?... whatsamattayou?... firesign theatre says everything you know is wrong!... and the laughter scared some children away but the wise one said, don't be scared now...

privacy
miss you
someday
kit
what I do
why
the real?
because
deeper?
vegging
all for you (narf)
truth
history
qualities
moving farther on
if you can
sensual compromise
leave a message at the tone
or check my calendar to find me
the written gardens
the survivors
it's what i do
random titles
privacy
word

and then there was more

cuz i am not just addicted to some foods, but i am also addicted to sharing and have compromised by satisfying this sharing addiction with the illusion that writing these words is a form of sharing cuz they could be read at any time by you or another mind and then, sharing!...

so there is always more (if you find it :)

for the love of pizza

it's one of my addictions, pizza, if there was a twelve step program for pizza and chocolate, i'd be the poster child for the example of the one who needs it most, but then, at least i couldn't find myself on the biggest loser... by current real cultural standards, i'm barely overweight... still, i'm gonna set the set-weight goal down thirty ppounds for 2010 cuz current real cultural standards are sick...

holidays kill, ya know?

mmmmm madness

while that is certaintly easily and accurately read as mmmmmm, as in yummy, the more mad reading would follow the previous entry of staccato letter p's that rather might sound like a moterboat or some sort of puttering stuttering shock-value title and enphasizes the word following the staccato letter, kind of like m-m-m-m-m, no, actually, even more like m.m.m.m.m., hmmmm, to be most even more precise, muh muh muh muh muh madness!...

yes, that's more like it...

in other words, after a bit of sleep, back out to the fucking holiday season for more sugar and caffeine and death-march cuz there's cake and sugary drinks and killer food everywhere and i seem to be socializing more than ever this year with an almost complete lack of any good sense or reservation about indulging as much as humanly possible and i am not even wondering if it is because i am feeling sorry for myself or hoping someone sees through the human sickness of sloth and whatever decadent hedonism this is (literally) to actively care and 'save me' or some such crap cuz i don't give a flying fuck about anything beyond the momentary gratification of the party in my head fueled by the sugar/caffeine chemical hormonal rush...

or maybe i'm just mocking the season of joy and happiness cuz i'm lonely and nobody really cares enough to be here to hug me and hold me long through the silent night, holy my ass, aye?...

could be it's just another odd entry for the hell of the shock value, or bullsugar, even, but then, whatever, it started as an e-the-real entry and ended up here, for whatever that might be worth to you or posterity... i shall be done, eventually, and that's no bullsugar, nyuk, nyuk, narf...

ho ho ho

just keep swimming?

yes, that's the ticket, the key, the answer, the information we all need to be successful in this life... just keep swimming, or moving, in the human case... keep moving through the day and the activities and the stuff of life...

or perhaps that's just what to do when fatigue is high and there's just no more left in the tank and yet there's still more work to be done... so maybe the phrase should be just keep working... oh, but that's a sad reflection of real life and what is ever so wrong with our culture, the workers oppressed and kept ignorant and struglling and therein, easily controlled and manipulated by the few in government and industry who reap the bulk of the benefits from human culture, just keep working, yes, a sad reflection of normal life for the vast majority... silent majority, sure, for who has time or energy left to speak out or even learn what to speak out about after work work working day after day after day...

while the few at the tip of the food chain just keep living, enjoying, benefiting, and yes, living... the rest just keep dying, and that's life...

she knew

so I get home, alone again naturally, and as if it is news, realize how different I am from people… maybe from everybody… it’s the diversity, plain and simple, the diversity going on in my brain that sets me apart (and leaves me alone again, naturally)… so I wake and head in for a long day of work as a director in a hospital, deciding whether I feel like working or whether I just want to wander around observing others, maybe helping, maybe just observing… some days I crunch numbers, some days I build spreadsheets or databases, some days I investigate incidents, some days I train staff, some days I talk to the kids, some days I participate in meetings and some days I run them, some days I entertain government regulators, investigators, surveyors, auditors, police, and all sorts of inspectors… some days I do other things, always important, vital functions that keep the hospital running… and then, I head out of work, changing into softball gear before leaving, and join kids who’ve spent half the time alive in their bodies as I’ve spent in mine (ok, not all, but I am the oldest on every team I am on, usually by a decade or more) playing softball as their pitcher (and the two teams I pitch full time for won championships this year)… and then, I hang out in a wing house with the jock kids from softball and the scantily clad waitresses who wave and come over to talk a few minutes cuz I’m just that sort of irresistible sort… and then, I head to a midnight first showing of avatar at the universal studios i-max cuz the sci-fi geeks I know got free passes and one came my way cuz I enjoy sci-fi as much as softball as much as scantily clad girls as much as jocks (well, some jocks) as well as the corporate games that run the world (sometimes I just tolerate them knowing somebody’s got to do it) as much as coming home alone to turn on the twilight zone on tv while a home-made pizza cooks in the oven and wait, did I wake up 21 hours ago?... surely goodness and madness will follow me wherever I hang out, cuz I love so many things, diversity, that’s it, diversity in my brain, interests, and all, it’s diversity, or simply, there are billions of brain cells, you see, and I intend to use every single one…

anybody wanna try it with me?...

one hundredth entry

yes, the next entry was the one hundredth entry in this newish blog named for the season of the psyche unknown to stuffy folk who lose touch with their realness and treasured by the honest among us with the sense of humor that appreciates duality and realness, but then this entry slipped in here in this out-of-time way (not as in not enough time, but in the sci-fi out of the normal chronological concept of time way, to be more accurately clarified) and usurped the next entry, which probably should have been a cult classic, so this right here and now, or whenever, is the one hundrendth entry...

yeah, for whatever that's worth...

this promise was not

bullsugar

though all else might be, or perhaps you've been lucky to find some connections that are not... this is my hope, for your happiness, for your peace, for your joy... for my heart is true, especially to you...

happy birthday amy

fast alseep

at the moment,

so later,

i returned to write this...

serious or not

to be, that is the question, nobler arrows have never been fired from the musketeers of little girl or, in other words, the gates of fruited plains could never be more full of virtue than if presented hanging from the loins of sailor chipmonks on leave from the stable of life...

and if, in one hundred entries, this was never noticed, the power and/or meaning would not be diminished an iota (no relation to yoda), nor would the references be any less real for it is (or will be, if you ever get here) all in your mind, as real or not as you choose to make it...

belief decides everything...

death

fear of death has long plagued the human psyche, diminishing potential of even the most powerful human minds and along with other fears, may be the root cause for all that ails the human from war to disease to depression to divorce to whatever ails you... excuse me if i laugh at the serious morbidity of the human perspective, but it is how i see it when i am not sad for the limits people place on their own minds, imagination, perception, and understanding... anything is possible, so it is possible that all human fears are valid and all the worst nightmares told by boogiemen and religions and scientists and soothsayers may come true someday and i say, so what... why let any of it interfere with the experience of this moment in it's full potential?... no reason that makes sense to me not to, so i hope you do... if you don't want to (or believe you can't) overcome your fears and want to further the discussion of death and possible futures, here's biocentrism, which looks a lot like egocentrism to me, but then, i am not considered one of the leading scientists in the world... narf...

the flow continues

at this rate no one will ever have the time to actually catch up with me, literally, no less physically, cuz there are just too many words and that's the way i had it planned all along i guess... either the one who would dedicate her life to me would find me and do it, or i'd live and die alone in a crowd, surrounded by friends who genuinely care and share much, but alone inside and at the depths of intimacy only the one so dedicated could share... for it takes time and energy that allows for little else and such committment is rare, if it exists in this modern world... still, i hope it does, if not for me, then for her, for someone, and for you...

sigh :}

pop culture

yeah, there's a lot of pop culture permeating, saturating, even drowning us these days and far be it for me to sell my opinion short, though i am not trying to commericalize on your perverse confusions, insecurities, and fears like most pop culture maggots are doing these days... ummm, yeah, so anyway, there are those who say the twilight stories have replaced harry potter and there are those who say they have very different audiences (kind of like the buffy audience was not necessarily the same as the x-files or dr. who or smallville or audiences, but those are other debates for other times like comparing the star wars fans with the e.t. fans or even the douglas adams fans, but anyway), is it time for another story to move in on the audiences of both or all?... if only the human race would stop the hypocrisy and just admit that the pretense of innocence and the tittilation of teenage sex is what sells just about everything, we might evolve into a more enlightened (and peaceful) species that might have a chance at survival...

but anyway...

the seven rays already has a soundtrack (i am listening at the moment, it's pretty thin and poppy, so it'll need a good story with better acting to beef up the power of the songs, but then, it's not a musical, after all) and the film doesn't even have a cast yet... they will probably get a couple of innocently alluring sexy teens to play the leads and fuel fantasies and make millions...

but npot to be undone, or outdone (undone, maybe), i will plug (and highly recommend, based on musical talent potential), jenn em if she can get the right breaks and publicity... she could be the next big thing, at least until the next pop culture wave comes along...

wandering the web

yeah, so like i love everything and this is where i wandered today, in no particular order, sort of, without commentary or extrapolation, or babble even...

a whole lot about craig ferguson of late late show tv fame and then wandered along a path that went nothing like this, but sort of randomly stopped by the rest of these websites and listened to music when att would allow while wandering on to other websites, most of which are listed here:

metric lucy woodward sofi bonde deluka krista mycale libby lavella meridith meyer jenn em jenn em again more jenn em butterfly boucher urban buddha mandi perkins mars volta melissa rodgers chopin's friend selena gomez taylor swift kate earl 1040 action phoebe just jared britney switchblad scarlett fiona apple death cab for cutie anamanaguchi hilary duff sarah mclachlan john frusciante jessy mccartney destrophy goes cube zoe on the nervous breakdown zoe off myspace (where i paused to comment) deb calla deepak chopra howie mandel miss cupcake the seven rays the ellen show craig again rattlesnake mug wavey crocodile

remember this

I keep forgetting the use a word processing program or even notepad to type the entries so I have a copy of the entries on my computer before sending them out here into cyberspace and there are millions of words poured out here over the years in that precarious position of existence, that is, in the blink of an electronic nanosecond the words and all the thoughts, feelings, and whatever worth there is in them would be gone, poof, as if they never existed beyond the vague memory some few of you might have of them… scary fragile, this sharing of words on the internet…

scary fragile, it turns out, is a song by butterfly boucher who I am falling in love with in the last seventeen or hundred seconds or so, maybe ten minutes (you oughta know it doesn’t take long for me to fall in love with a photo or song or singer or whatever cuz I am easy like that… of course it may not last the day, but what a day it could be, aye?)… another aussie, which most likely means austrailia is second only to the us for providing love fantasies for my heart cuz there have been more than a few aussie heart bandits (even if i am not into make-up ya know)… though canada still ranks a close second… and per capita, they probably are first, though maybe canada, but I never actually had a physical love relationship with an aussie (we won’t get into my affairs with canadians at the moment, aye?) so if you are from australia and would like to see if your reality lives up to my fantasy, feel free to apply within…

oh so romantic, right?...

so anyway, this entry is intended to attempt to remind me to type into notepad or better yet, ms word (cuz then it’ll spellcheck for me, not that I pay attention to the spellchecker or rulebooks much cuz I am a stubborn rebel and who loves me some typos, dontcha know) so perhaps posterity and anyone who cares might find, read, and find a moment of worth in these words sometime in the future (which is your now, if you are reading these words, isn’t that time thing exciting?) and then I’d go down in history as having existed even after this body dissolves back into the primordial ooze…

so feel free to remind me often… even if you’re not australian :)

what i meant was...

to share a bit of the fondness and revelry we here at bullsugar feel for the irreverent absurdity (and flagrant flaunting of disregard for rules cuz people need a good shock out their socks now and then, regularly, even) of craig ferguson who is not only am american on purpose, but he is american on purpose on twitter, sort of... actually, i think he's a bit old fashioned when it comes to the tech world, unlike howie mandel, who actually twitters (along with his son, in fact)... but craig ferguson is quite insane, intellectually comedic and cleverly insightful and what i meant to do was insert a bunch of links to craig ferguson rather subtly in the previous entry with all the flair of oo-la-la if you know what i mean... you know, the way craig might do...

it didn't work though cuz i forgot... so i went looking for some websites and i found the seven rays and the ellen show and lots of others that lead me wandering through myspace and facebook and twitter and who knows where and i found craig's book on twitter along with wavey crocodile and even his rattlesnake mug which lead me to believe i might not be the only one who found him amusing...

so that's it, what i meant was craig is full of bullsugar :)

ooo la la

yes, those are the immortal words of craig ferguson (I wonder if he twitters)...

and in the strangeness of being me in my imagination (as some people tend to do with so many wants and needs and feelings and things like love and imaginary friends and such, i find myself actually missing craig on the nights he is not on the tv as if he is a friend who really gets me as if he could possibly know and understand me as if we've ever even met and communicated (perhaps i should send him an email, snarf)...

but the true test of friendship comes when the limits of the perverse (what?) are found and the closer the limits of two might be, the closer the two minds (and hearts and the rest) can become... as harry said...

and so i dream a base will join me
and fill the bottom in...

goo

aimless wandering

that's the direction my mind is heading and there's no time to enjoy it, so i'll just go through the day faking the maturity and responsibility and focus and all that grown up stuff while i let my mind daydream out the window of life...

wanna climb a tree with me? :)

pixilated

or perhaps pixillated, but spelling is only one of the mind bending alterations that the pilixated can bring to the table of life... and it's long nigh on time (whatever that means) that we just up and faced the fact that i am quite pixilated...

now if i can only find a pixilated partner, life would be pixiperfect :)

glee

yes, who could share such a simple dream, from blissfully feeling the wonderful colors and radiance of the sun rise and sun set to the sensual pleasure of finding a favorite snack in the house and munching away at four o'clock in the morning... who still experiences the instant excitement that comes when a bit of sweet attention sparks the same powerful emotion as the feeling that children get once a year opening presents under the tree... can anyone, grown past the simple innocent years of youth, grown through the challenging years of establishing independence, through the monotonous years of working the daily grind to survive, to earn wealth and material things, can anyone, then, still embrace the full physical euphoria of glee?... to share a dream, to actualize the dream, to make the dream real... a simple dream, to share the glee...

remember the alamo

excuse me texans and anyone else who arrived by searching for the words in the title, this entry only resembles or relates to the title if you spend a lifetime building trust as only pre-school friends can (and the alamo might have been renamed the library if you know what i mean (no time to explain, you'll just have to come a little but closer to find out...

when i lived in san antonio for a few months there was this place called the warehouse we used to frequent that pressed the pregnant pause button every time we walked in... whether it was reverence, repulsion, or some other rapport, we were noticed and that was fun...

still. remember what you will...

shoulda, coulda, woulda

but didn't...

omg

nevermore

the story flows sideways

there may not be profound meaning in every title, or there may be, but there is profound meaning in this title even if i never explain, express, expound, or remember it at a later date...

sometimes sleep deprivation is a good thing :}

the best laid prams

or were they plans, we coyly inquire... it's an art, you know, the art of the coy inquiry (now there's a blog title waiting to happen... yes, so anyway, the week will be wonderful what with a wednesday to wednesday vacation from the work desk (and i shall endeavor not to turn on the laptop at home or away) and the softball tournament down south (it'll be good to get away from home, however briefly and rushed) and the holiday (but will i delve into the depths this year?... only time will tell, aye?) and such and such (heavy on the such)...

if you only knew, you might understand :}

shocking, no doubt

but then again, there may always be doubt for without doubt, there could be certainty and perhaps even perfection and with perfection comes boredom and the end of growth, change, and everything and we don't want everything to end, after all, so let the doubt ring...

still, you are not actually believing any of this bullsugar, are you?

no really, i was not looking for porn

well ok then, there i was waiting for a moment of non-suckage from att so i could google map where i am going tomorrow (should have done it from work where i have a printer, aye?) when i found myself on my twitter page that i never use to see who is following me (anybody's guess why) and i click on a link in the first twitter from the first follower and i find myself here looking at local amateur porn pictures and i am reminded how most human bodies are rather repulsive (disgusting, really) to my libido/psyche (no wonder i'm alone, no doubt) and somewhere along the way i find a japanese school girl who probably would have waggled my wiggle had att not sucked so much that streaming is rare here, but hey, who needs porn for fantasies when sex is mostly in the mind anyway...

no really, i wasn't looking for porn and didn't watch the whole thing...

maybe later lam lol la la la...

meanwhile, i wonder if masturbating before the big game give me weak legs?...

bullsugar! :)

yeah, right

the music flows more and more again, though not nearly where or how it once was and did, but more and the ache to share it, to feel it with and within someone, that is returning to the surface which means the depths of desire are stirring once again and if there was only time, the explosion would be seen across the blogosphere and perhaps, the changes would happen once again in the actual physical life...

still, all meaningless unless it is shared...

fox news

the sickness of our cultures is exposed once again as adam lambert's sensual act is banned by abc and good morning america, much as elvis was only shown from the waist up on ed sullivan and the beatles and others found similar censorship and it's been the same as far back from frank sinatra to the earliest human civilizations, the fear of the penis, the vagina, sex, the human body, and all that is natural and beautiful and sensual and real in this physical life... so distorted is our perception that the real obscenities of our culture are ignored, like the mind fuck of talk radio or sarah palin's sell-out going rouge tour (what makes a failed politician a rock star?... the bias of current "news" talking heads, the media in general, moral hypocrisy, and the psychological sleaziness of our culture, that's what)...

excuse me, i accidentally listened to a bit of fox news...

as if it's been here all along

and so it has, because it is, because you see, the here and now, was once before and this was not, but now it is, as if it's been here all along...

bullsugar :)

everyone is fighting

for one thing or another, everyone is fighting, if only for the illusion of control... for the illusion of belonging... for the illusion of being better than the rest... for the illusion of winning... for the illusion of being number one... for the illusion of power... for the illusion of order... for the illusion of right or wrong or heaven or hell... for the illusion of love or hate or pain or fear... for the illusion of knowing... for the illusion of sharing... for the illusion of feeling, of being, of thought... and most of all, for the illusion that it is not an illusion...

meet me at the restaurant at the end of the universe and tell me what you think...

how long before you notice?

i wonder every time i start a new space... the new link goes up on the list of branches off the tree of madness or the on the left side of right list on the RealTime™ blog (what?... you want links?... then it might be connected and would that be bullsugar?... define, please, s'il tu plait)... i'm just a little bit caught in the middle...

did i mention we are the champions?...

ah, strum your guitar, sing it kid...

just write about your feelings, not the things you never did... and yet, all he did was write about things he never did, a lot, and he felt them as if he did them, which was his secret, i guess, and if you really listened, you heard and if you really heard, you felt and if you really felt, you cried and if you really cried, you healed...

harry chapin takes me home to my roots better than anyone and tonight, i remember first loves, first passion, first feelings... bittersweet memories, because they are so sweet but no longer shared...

still, i want to say... happy birthday :)

speaking of tone

what tone?

exactly...

a great day for america?... which america?... no, really, north?... south?... central?... vespucci?... somewhere between sleep and awake where you still remember dreaming, right, tink?... you did know america is an italian name, right?... and sometimes it's just a matter of when and how to say go fuck yourself, but mostly it's all about the stones... thrown, not thrown, soup, what you do with the stones measures your place in this world... perhaps you'll roll them now, but what you do without thinking, that is the answer...

the question could be who are you, or simply what?

meaningless drivel

what was the purpose, if there was a purpose, for another blog, for another way to write the time passing through this life... there is usually a pirpose, a reason, a theme for starting a new writing space... there were books, volumes, journals, diaries, and now, blogs... and why another, i wonder, when there are already dozens open and waiting for more words... is it because there are so many different threads in the tapestry of my mind or am i always trying to recreate whomever i may be... huh?...

good dreams don't come cheap...

feed the head

currently listening to meg & dia, lenka, bright eyes, harry chapin, amy farris, the telling, steve forbert, melissa etheridge, alice peacock, lily allen, melanie, demi lovato, moody blues, rilo kiley, dar williams, kate voegele, garth brooks, portishead, fleetwood mac, jackson browne, eagles, alexa ray joel, elton john, metallica, blind faith, 3 dog night, bread, ligion, say anything, snow patrol, spill canvas, manchester orchestra, the beatles, and others...

what are you feeding your head tonight?

what does it mean?

what does it matter?...

did you have your bullsugar today?

dr pepper cherry

it's deadly stuff, actually... like coke, it can clean the gunk off engines... so corrosive, yet we gulp it down and ignore the attack on our digestive track simply because it tastes so good... the sweet, the syrupy flavor of sugar, we are so addicted... and the caffeine, we are so hooked... pepsi, mountain dew, monster, red bull, coffee, tea, so many different ways to get our fix...

as steve forbert sings it's a shame, you know...

and the next day, the sugar hangover... we wonder why we do it as we look at the empty cans or bottles... like an alcoholic for sugar and caffeine... a legalized junkie... the office coffee fix... the slurpee... the speed...

just one more...

how long?

in 1971, when we met, the world was a very different place... you had your baton, you had your trumpet, i had my hair, my accordion, my running, and we had our music... music was much more magical, personal, and communal back then... and place, we had a place, we had your basement to play in, party in, sleep in, and commune in... i miss communing... people don't commune much these days...

happy birthday old friends... long may we smile :)

did you ever feel?

i've got the feeling most people would say yes, but i've got the feeling that most people actually never did, but then, how would one know, after all... illusions, all... it's really sad, but then, sadness is an emotion, a feeling, isn't it... so is it? (as in, i mean, does it really exist and what is real?... and what is it, anyway?)...

ever really hear meg & dia?

number 13

that is my number, by the way, in at least one of my softball leagues and we have gone to the finals twice in tht league... so friday the thirteenth is a fun day for me, but then, so is halloween, come to think of it... superstitions amuse me most of the time (except when people hurt each other or kill or go to war over superstitions... i mean, take religion, please)...

so bring on the black cats, the ladders, the broken mirrors, and all the still (the stuff too, narf) of superstitions for a laugh... cuz that's what they're good for :)

and it was going so well

the babbling bullsugar, that is... not that the writing paused all that much as there are daily nightly words popping out all over the web (and some even from me, wouldn'tcha know) and the internet connection (att sucks) is pretty bad recently, but there's a certain mood that brings out the bullsugar and that has been semi-sleepy of late... though mostly, it's other stuff...

which only goes to show...

for the love of obscurity

is that why i do it, silently slip away to start again in my mind, in the dark, in the new space and time without a word to anyone... is it to see if anyone is paying attention... is it a way to shirk or avoid the responsibility of a final committment to person, place, or thing or personality... who am i, after all... am i simply seeking a privacy that is absent elsewhere... is it a way to try to re-create myself once again... are these questions and if they are, or whatever they are, as words here and now, or then whenever, are they related, connected, ubiquitous, or something else again...

perhaps, as the title poses, it's all for the love of obscurity...

and i wonder about tone

specifically, the tone of this blog that is now entering it's third month of life and yet to be noticed by anyone, i think, as compared with the tone of my other daily blogs that are mostly semi-daily now, except for this one and then (or now, in fact) i wonder - is this the first time i am openly contemplating and linking this to the stream of blogs that branch out from my written gardens and if so, what do (or can) we make of that?...

well don't just discuss amongst yourselves, i mean, feel free to let me in on your thoughts too, aye?...

narf :)

do you love me yet?

that is what i am here for, after all, to fall in love with the one who falls in love with me in the exact same way (and it's not fantasy if it actually happens, ya know)...

all i ever needed was the one...

peace chance a give

cuz giving is the chance you take (kind of like the love you make) if peace is ever to be real you must share truth and how you feel...

sometimes there's no bullsugar about it...

make a plan to love me

some time soon...

qualities

if you want to attract my attention, please actively demonstrate (actualize) qualities like intelligence, objectivity, humility, logic, humor, relevance, sensitivity, appreciation, creativity, adaptability, resiliency, and simple courtesy... oh, and let's not forget infinite patience, imagination, tolerance, and unconditional love... and insatiable curiosity... and above all else, honesty without harm... and stubborn will to understand and live up to your ideals... and the desire and ability to learn, change, and appreciate word play, subtle understatements and irreverent seriousness (and serious irreverence) helps a lot too... did i mention an almost unhealthy addiction to ridiculously brilliant creative babble?...

if you don't want my attention, nevermind :)

it had to be you

if only you've have come...

you say it's your birthday

or maybe you didn't say,
for so long you've been far away
and even if this song won't play
i still remembered anyway...

happy birthday
j
yes
j

stoney starry night

and not a joint in sight, but the memory of the drugs we knew are still enough to get us through another stoney starry night of wish i may and wish i might make dreams come true for me and you if only we knew what to do... as depeche mode sang, reach out and touch me...

sometimes, to catch up

yes, no kidding, cuz sometimes the words flow but i either am away from the internet (shocking, i know) or i fall asleep before i get to upload the words, so there's the catch-up time when entries flood the web in what may seem like random places, but is quite possibly a carefully strategically meticulously crafted creative creation of sorts...

or something like that...

secrets be told, the seriousness within the silliness is almost always in charge, even as the irreverence playfully presents it most of the time... if you understand that, then you just might have some chance of understanding at least a small part of me...

or all, your choice :)

day by day

it could be there is some association, some relation, some connection through memory or meaning to the previous entry on the previous day or date, whenever it was, but the truth is found between and behind the eyes, so make what you will of the words but reserve judgment, if you must judge, until the eyes have had it...

so what was this supposed to be again?

the serious one?... flippant?... cleverly popular?... irreverent?... the sweet bull?... everything except the offensive controversial stuff?... probably too late for that, but then, i've gotta be me, or so the song is sung...

i wonder what the funda would say...

the funda?

crossed wires

this was started as a whole new and unique blog that would not be completely intergrated (and therein biased, or tainted, even) by the babbling madness and controversial irreverence that permeates the previous dozens of blogs, diaries, and journals just cuz i enjoy mind games and playing with words (is it real, memorex, or artificial flavoring?... even her hairdresser doesn't know, but you could if you paid close attention and learned to count in aremaic... aremaniac?... sure...

but in the end, the themes and moods and purposes for this blog are spilling into other writing spaces and the babbling madness and other negativities are spilling into this one and that begs the question, what's the point of another blog doing the same old same old when there are already a few and a few more that are hardly used... i mean, where's the continuity, the congruety, the unique purpose and methodology and tapestry?... but anyway, everything is blurriful in it's own way...

nyuk...

the web woven

the web was woven (weaved?) wide tonight as i make time to release some of the words backed up between the synapses and you'll just have to find my ninety-nine gazillion other blogs, diaries, journals, and web pages on your own for now cuz this is bullsugar, whatever that means...

besides, you have to let me know you exist before i give you the keys to the kingdom, after all, or something like that...

narf.

writing magic

the magic comes and goes so fast, we mustn't always trust memory or fate, which may be why we write, among other reasons...

obviously not

being the epitome of oxymorons, i truly really actually did mean and intend (as if redundancy makes it more real and true?) to leave the controversies and negativities (and depths, for that matter, but that's beneath the story) out of this blog so it might become the beacon of acceptability and attraction that i can be when i focus on and actualize honesty without harm with serious sensitivity and responsible caution and without all that jazz...

any chance it'll happen?

honesty without harm

and if you are offended by anything i say (or write) then please try to ask yourself why you choose your way because i mean no offense and intent to do no harm and i won't let you bring me down and i hope you do the same...

i guess i simply do not want to discipline myself to the point of censorship because the stiffling of creativity does not need my help and i'd rather be me freely releasing the thoughts and feelings passing through me than carefully sharing planned pablum (or even serious thought) designed to placate fear and doubts and seduce the general public by pandering to the lowest common denominator which devalues everything and ultimately, will be shot down...

i love you honestly, so i will njot respect your stupidity, your hypocrisy, or your self-destruction... wake up and start living honest love and all will be well (if only you would)... sometimes it's not bullsugar but just appears...

oops, we did it again

again?... oh well, maybe there's just no cleaning up the act of the incorrigible child who really does not care how the world (that would be most of you, i suppose) perceives the babbling fool online (or is this yet another weaving of the web of the maze of madness that is the method to the means to me?)...

it was supposed to be more appealing as in less ridiculously abstract and whetever else it takes to be popular or at least more accepted as normal every day or really not all this grandious crap but some serious sharing on the semi-light smiley happy shiney facey side just like you...

or was that just bullsugar?

it's all bullsugar

whatever that means, i mean, who knows what it means, i mean, seriously, irreverence is sweet, sugar... everything is serious, in it's own way, but taking anything too seriously is just plain sick and a waste of time cuz life is short and the fun is the point if you love and let yourself be loved cuz love is the point if you make it fun (honesty without harm is the way, yay) so sweeten the ride and lighten the load cuz it's all too heavy to be burdened by worry and selfish emo (and you know what i mean, i mean, what it means)...

and what's this soul cake sting is singing about these days?... i mean, has the beard gone to his head?... or is that a small cake?... a salt cake?... assault cake?... might as well be agassi wearing a wig on crystal meth, but what sickness is really permeating our culture can be found almost anytime on tv, extra or tmz or so many other celebrity-sick narcissism only sadder when we realize the audience at home is even more delusional than the characters on the screen, living vicariously as if it's something to take pride in (cuz pride is so important to humans) instead of actually living...

and even as i appear so self-absorbed as i cast irreverence upon the cyber seas in words that at once mock and condemn and bless and judge and laugh and cry and who knows what else (or what is real, aye?) and it appears i am so desperately lonely at times and want attention so much i'll do anything out here (where did i put those the nude videos again?) for your feedback, in the end, as important as your noticing and responding really is, i am here sharing words cuz i want to write and the internet lets me store the words so i can look back and enjoy (or at least learn about, cha know) the thoughts and feelings in my mind and oh yeah, i'l the delusional one...

might as well welcome god into the mix, aye?...

cha-ching :)

wherever

maybe it's time to buy the netbook so i can tap the keys in more places, especially in bed...

wherever i lay my head...
wherever (eerie ethereal echos)
so long since i slept in bed
wherever (repeat echos, redundantly)
forgot everything i said
whatever (sudden silence)
wherever i lay my head
(layered repeated errie ethereal echos, again)


thank you very much...

the thing is

whatever i was going to say

loneliness

while happiness dominates the experience within me in this life just cuz i love (and love being a very close second to happiness for emotional experiences for me in this life) being me and enjoying the experience of being alive, loneliness is almost as powerful as happiness and is one of the most dominating emotions i experience in this life...

loneliness is one of the reasons i write here, hoping that sharing happens, at least in words and hoping that connections happen offline too... sometimes i come here wondering "is anybody out there?"... that's the loneliness talking... sometimes the hope and belief that sharing will happen at any moment and you are out there finding these words is strong and that's when joy and happiness bounce out into the words more...

how do you experience it?

in spite of the busy-ness

i find a moment to stop by because i want to keep in touch with you and that is the most serious the words can ever be about this blogging experience these days, or maybe ever...

i am here, hope you are there and we talk, smile, touch, and share soon :)

we never had sex

by henry gibson's younger sister

we never had sex
but we made love
we shared the dreams
lovers dream of
platonic and pure
tremulous and true
and you can be sure
i still love you
yes you can be sure
i'll always love you

awwww, precious, aye?... hey, a rhyme for your birthday with hope to amuse, a rhyme full of word play to tease and confuse, a rhyme is just my way as if that is news, a rhyme for you today to shout out the news that today is your birthday... so scooby dooby doos :)

happy birthday pj, from me to you

may this be the best one yet :)

because ever day matters

i come here to share every day (at least i want to) because every day matters and i hope to share every day because sharing makes everything more fun and matter even more cuz two minds exponentially increase everything (especially the experience awareness conciousness perception reality physicality and feeling, if you want it, of sharing) to make each moment the most it can be...

and cuz it's fun :)

watching tv is weird

of course it is, for many reasons, in fact... take time, for instance... you watch a rerun of a talk show and it's like going back in time and then right after that show you watch a live show and wonder what day it is cuz the other show was on just moments ago and referred to toay as some day that already happened and you get confused in a time warp uncertain which when is which and why you even look at the clock at all...

meanwhile, craig ferguson's mind is quite amusing, but even more, it makes sense to me... i wonder how many others hear the seriousness within the irreverence (serious irreverence?... no wonder i enjoy him)...

just thoughts, no plan, whether or not you understand, just words, maybe rhyme, just a way to pass the time, just a way to mark the time, just a way... i can call mine...

up all night

as usual, with softball in the morning, but that's another story (too real for here?... whatever is the point of all the different blogs if all the separations merge and confuse the purpose of each one if there ever was one {oh come on, we know there was and somehow, still is} anyway?... anyway?... yeah, anyway?... what of it?... anyway...

if only you knew...

the thing was

what?... maybe i keep starting new blogs to see if anyone is paying attention, i mean, really caring in the verbal literary as in caring is a verb sense... nouns, verbs, verbal, written, and all that jazz aside, humor too, it could be that at my deepest core, or perhaps in a nearby suburb, there is serious doubt that humans have the ability to care as much as they need to in order to understand the conscious awareness the mind is capable of achieving when the dominant power is love instead of fear... humans choose fear, though many will claim not to have a choice, as if the mind controls the consciousness instead of the other way around... so maybe i'm not amazed and wanna be and this wandering aimlessly (or so it may appear) is all part of the carefully laid out maze (maze?... a maze?... oh stop playing with words, most won't get it and those who do will only be distracted, but maybe that's the point, aye?) is the test...

what?... nobody said there'd be a quiz today...

don't hurt yourself

trying to get this

it'll be here when you get here
even if i am not

somehow i think

therefore what?... but seriously, i think, sometimes i think this writing space has forgotten it's purpose as so many have before (or perhaps it will in a week or so) and touched the real (the what?... allusions to illusions or delusions of grandiousity, if you could only know you might be introduced to me and then the magic might begin if you could only see your way to give me you as much as i can give you me... reality and fantasy are completely in you and me)...

something in the way...

ya know?

yes, it was

and still is the only dream i know (with respect to john denver for a change) and the music in the mind and the night and the stars and the ethereal... if we only listened)... anybody actually out there?... anybody actually keeping up with me?... even in my sleep, i am alone... but in my dreams, sweet dreams, that's where i'm home... yes in my dreams, sweet dreams, my love comes home...

always been between the sheets of bullsugar...

all i ever wanted

to love and be loved.

profund

a typo or a reference to something else... money... professionalism... productivity... fundamentals... are there fundaphysicals too?... fundawhat?

and what have you missed?
and what does it matter
if i was wise as a god
or as mad as a hatter
if it is only me
who knows my own worth
then was there any purpose
in my being, or birth?
for posterity here
and there i leave words
for myself and for you
and true, for the birds
sometimes lonely and sad
sometimes blissfully real
sometimes lost in deep thought
sometimes just what i feel
sometimes reflections of
worlds i do not understand
all around me are people
doing harm with their hands
and i so want to help
and not be in the way
but sometimes i just want
to be left alone...
like today

the irony is that we do that so well, ignore each other, pretend nothing matters, pretend we don't care (or maybe we don't), that i can always get what i want when i want to be left alone... too bad i don't want this all the time...

just because

there is meaning in obscurity, intentional and not... there is passion and truth even in what we forgot... nothing is ever completely gone if it ever was... and if you never respond i'll still be here, if just because...

pushing

there is not enough time in a day to do all that can be done and lately, a year or more in fact, there has not been enough time in a day to give myself the time for myself that i want... and now i come to the point of asking where does want end and need begin...

i am pushing to get what i want... do i subconsciously push still more to get what i need... is that the difference and is that where it can become confused or even self-destructive... if i am asking, where are the question marks?...

the distraction of rules is the human crutch i laugh at so as not to face how much i detest it so as not to break too many and lose my freedom to choose... but pushing, that is when lines can be crossed and even inadvertently, irrepairable damage can be done...

not including spelling errors or typos, narf...

it is time for a change

i don't wish i was richard corey
i don't wish i was john lennon
i don't wish i was tim leary
i don't wish i was jesus christ
i don't wish i was god in heaven
i don't wish for power beyond life
i don't wish i was lucky seven
i don't wish i was anyone else
just me

i just wish i was with you
love is true
i just wish i was with you

this is not bullsugar, just a momentary wave of loneliness... but even a tsunami is not enough to strip everything again... some roots are just too deep to ever die... and it's the same for dreams... even if no one ever understands, including me, the instinct moves on like the tide...

sleepless still

eyes burn, beg to close, for a moment, but then... sweet dreams swirl around to set my mind a-soaring once again... a-soaring?... yeah, well, artistic license is expanded when sleep deprived... and you think it matters what is said or done?... what matters is we share some love and fun...

yeah, we share bullsugar... better than nothing, aye? :}

because the world did not end

the song seems to have lied...

but it's not skeeter davis's fault

you were the sunshine of my life.

the story never told

is the story that never ends...

because i want to be known

by someone, someday, somehow, completely...

i continue...

if we want to

you could follow me there or join me here anywhere in the world through the written word or if you are within reach we can share some space and time as observers or creators of our own lives - lives we can make sublime and if we see eye to eye we might even come together like two wings lifting an eagle or simply two words that rhyme...

will you join me in this quest for communication and coexistence?...

we could be friends, if we want to...

by the time you find me here i may be gone

that's the way it is in this moving world

in this moving world

spinning round the sun streaking through space

dances in your mind create the life you live

you are unfurled unfurled unfurled

pretending we can stay in just one place

begging for connections, keep the faith, there's always hope

praying someday someone will respond

beyond heaven's gate the real is dancing in your eyes

but by the time you find me here i may be gone

by the time you find me here i may be gone

yeah, so

the world might be your oyster and you may be a clam but you would never know if you just acted like a ham so relax, you can enjoy it without fear of how you look and you can overcome every like you read in every book for your rights and wrongs are not found in a message in the skies but rather in your heart and mind and the look in your own eyes...

have you ever really looked into your own eyes?

if i came here every day

would you?

breathe like you mean it

cuz otherwise you are just pretending to be alive

someday i'll let you know

the irony in the titles and the falicy of believing in control, as if i can let you know anything or have the power to keep you from knowing anything when truth is we know what we want to know... truth is, we've known all along and we've made our choices...

but it was a nice fantasy to get lost in now and then...

and where we can wandered tonight

or perhaps it was another night... or day, in fact, but then... times is meaningless when we share... so i clicked on an email link and this is what i found... and where we can wander tonight...

always write

meetups

because i'm tea too

enjoying music and sci-fi

because ignorance is bliss (for the ignorant)

drug laws kill more people than drugs

crossing to facebook

up the sandbox

and all the while (what internet porn?), music plays thanks myspace

december's fall

merry ellen

beatlesque

sandy kilpatrick

then i came here to remember it all...

and back around to me again

as we recreate

we create

we enjoy

we recreate

recreation

seems

sometimes it may seem that every word i ever wrote was aimed at just one heart and soul i used to know and maybe that's the truth and the way it's always been or maybe you know something more that doesn't show... or maybe that is just the way it seems sometimes in dreams the exact clarity matters less than the flow and that is true in rhymes and songs and so for me and you it seems we laugh as if we know what we don't know...

(cuz seems create the dreams that always grow)...

what were you doing now?

as if someday you will find all these little bread crumbs of my soul so neatly scattered across winds of life and time i wonder what you were doing the moment that these words emerged from my inagination into rhyme and then i wonder if this will matter as much to you in then as it seems to matter to me in my now...

and yes, i'd ask in other ways if i knew how...

it's all made up

but are we?

because you dream in words

that may be why you follow me, because you dream in words and i am a prolific writer when i find the time to let you know i'm writing eyery night and day in any moment i can find the keyboard or a pencil anything will do and yes, sometimes in rhyme, but no, not every time... it's just i think in literary patterns and in lyrical lines and now and then when i am feeling in touch with myself i feel in melodies that influence the way i write so there is sometimes metered prose upon my shelf... but more than anything this is the way into my core and my imagination never seems to sleep and it might be because you dream in words you understand what i'm here for... to record a few dreams that will not keep... or to just remember dreams i want to keep...

was it real for you?

was i here every day or was i just trying to keep up with time as it rushed passed my blinking eyes.... was it as real for you as i imagined it might be or were we just connected by our lonely eyes... how many times did you wish for something more than this with me or with someone else you were reading alone late at night... answers are not always the best friends to get to close to if you know what i mean you'll be alright... real or not we shared a little time between the dark and light and yes we'll be alright if we just go on believing it's alright... just go on believing it's alright...

bullsugar

i don't have a particular flavor in mind as this writing space evolves from whence it came... i don't know if you'll ever understand my life in rhyme or if there will be too much sense made of the name... my thoughts escaping wildly now into the ethernet or maybe my imagination's on a leave (on allieve? sp) but time is on my side as long as i can take a breath and whether you are here or not i'll still believe that we are here to share and care and maybe be aware somewhere in between the moments we rejoice and grieve...

today's reading of the mad scientist

amy g dala

culture shaping parasite
tocoplasmosis
drugs
risperidone
electromagnetic brain
cver bucy
amygdala
limbic
islands of calleja
neuromodulation

mind over body

cuz there's nobody for the body but so very much for the mind, so until somebody comes along, i'll just enjoy myself by myself with myself and let my mind please my body and my mind... what are you up to?

omgoshikins!

omgoshikins, could it be that nobody did?

where have you been? (narf)

hiding or oblivious

you once knew the way

but years have lead you somewhere

have you been astray?

why would you want to be an ass tray?... toilet seat?... smoker?... ah, ash, as if...

play with the letters and you might see

you are as oblivious as me

but somewhere deeper you understand

you had the power in your own hand

all along

as simple as writing your song

but beware when listening to it on the radio cuz The mammalian brain is protected by the blood-brain barrier, which prevents harmful substances from reaching the brain tissue [and] there is evidence that exposure to electromagnetic fields at non thermal levels disrupts this barrier. dontchaknow... narf.

what are you afraid of?

afraid?... ring slater-natsi at (oh wait, that's another bit)... no, don't call me, i'll just pluck on your feathers until you hit me or run away and either action is unpleasant, so dance in your circles (flowing skirt or whatever) and hope for the best because, you oughta know... drugs are for those who can't handle reality.... well, most drugs.

not that i said i would

i mean, just because things happen does not mean i'll be here writing about it every day, here, that is, but one never knows, do one... questions do not always need marks, ya know... you could have been a contender.

six days later

flashback leads to all sorts of things cha cha cha (the only way to know may be to ask).

that's what it's all about

the latest in a long line of snack-fueled babbling literally reflecting the intense longing or cavelier apathy (with the occasional parenthetic ambivalence) born (or perhaps borne) of impulsive self-satisfactions and periodic boredom, but most of all, the eternal flame of hopelessly hopeful romance (or something like that)...

yeah, anyway, every day something happens...

mostly bullsugar...

narf.

i could happen tomorrow

or even yesterday
cuz time is relative
more if you pray
but what you don't know
is most everything
so whatever

or at least bullsugar!

need to know, need to fear!

that's the top news story tonight.

and if you thought it was for you

you may be reading way more into it than there is and fail.

emo crunchy cereal killer.

bullsugar

i don't have a particular flavor in mind as this writing space evolves from whence it came... i don't know if you'll ever understand my life in rhyme or if there will be too much sense made of the name... my thoughts escaping wildly now into the ethernet or maybe my imagination's on a leave (on allieve? sp) but time is on my side as long as i can take a breath and whether you are here or not i'll still believe that we are here to share and care and maybe be aware somewhere in between the moments we rejoice and grieve...