oh, the cleverness

or whatever as even haphazard or seemingly disjointed (confusing?... irrational?... unappealing?... offensive?... oh gosh golly gee i sure do hope not, not any of them, really) at times, time, time, time still tells us a story, as harry related just a bit more than thirty years ago (time?), but for what it's worth, i've taken to telling my own story (with some others inserted now and then, names changed to protect them from humiliation and also to their sanity, i suppose), as you may have noticed if you have been paying attention (oh, the cleverness of nonchalance, aye?) and that is part of the point of the written gardens which, as the link just linked demonstrates, is now called something else, sort of (other parts of the point relate more to maintaining my own sanity, which all may merge into bullsugar in the end (and i don't mean this particular blog of the same name), though success seldom shines nearly as brightly as the hope of intended plans, the concept may not been completely off the mark...

parhaps narf? :)

it seems important

so many things in life, but personally for this moment i am thinking of (and referring to) this blog, the bullsugar, and the writing i do without thinking or planning like tonight, for instance, i fell asleep early and intended to sleep the night through and the phone woke me and i found myself sitting here typing and six entries were suddenly presenting a profound sense of simultaneous gain and loss, the gain of memories of loss, if that makes any sense to you (and it matters more than it makes much sense to me for in this understanding the profound feeling of satisfaction and accomplishment grows, as if understanding gives life more meaning or something life that... or like that, for that matter) and in the end (not only the beatles song), we can only hope, depending on perspective, that it is, or is not...

bullsugar!

hope i am

not just bullsugar and more importantly (if anything is), hope i am listening... the first thought as i pop back in here tonight is anybody listening and then before the ink dries on the question mark that isnt there, the more important thought is the title of this blog as i hope am, as i am respectfully, as honest as possible in my writings and sharing without giving out too much of other people's privacy (i hope and if you know me offline and i give out too much of your privacy or if anyone reading feels like i share too much personal stuff, please tell me cuz it is my intention to share me and the life i live and offend or intrude on no one more than they allow but on the other hand i don't want to encourage the foolish paranoia that most people carry around like a shroud nor do i want to feed the monster and wall that over-worrying about what other people think becomes and then hope i do listen and take it seriously when it is serious cuz that's important too and i wish i could read minds sometimes, especially on this subject or the other subject in this rambling if you follow along or any of it for that matter and there is a deep part of me that wishes somebody does and cuz the bottom line is i sometimes tell myself important stuff in my babblings and i hope i am listening cuz if i don't listen to the important stuff i could crash and burn and i have had enough crashing and burning in this life and it sure would be sweet to have someone looking out for me (hint hint :)

what?... another paragraph here?... with ellipsis pauses no less?... and question marks?... why this is possibly quite odd for this place and so i wonder if this belongs here but then, it must cuz it is here after all and what i mean (or was getting around to) is (or was, daring redundancy for emphasis) that i know i give too much for my own good, but somebody else must love the giving as much as i do and together we could help each other give just enough to feel the bliss and not give too much cuz giving is kinda like flying close to the sun with flammable wings, or something like that cuz somebody must understand what i mean from personal experience, and i just wish you would find this writing already and speak up and until you do, i am out on the edge on my own loving almost every precarious moment of...

bullsugar! :)

quiet year

it was a quiet year, the year that just passed into the past, and i wonder if that has more meaning that i acknowledged or recorded as yet in the meanderings of this (or any) blog for there was a time, so we thought, that this blog was a new start, a fresh breeze, and profound step forward in the evolution of the written gardens, especially the blogging places and yet, the expansion continues as more than five dozen blogs flow here at this public blog site alone and the possibility of watering down is everywhere and yet, this may be why it was a quiet year here in this (or that, for that matter) year that just passed into the past and it may be that, in the end, someone (me, even) is truly listening, connecting, understanding, and caring in the verbal and verbish sense of the word and there is always hope for an actual meaningful method to the madness and it is not all merely...

bullsugar! :)

the writer says: be

perhaps... all this (or is it that, and then some) is writing the record of the life i kinda sorta seem to think of or at least consider mine from time to time... sometimes appearing (or is that feeling) broken (or is that disconnected... lost... forgotten... abandoned... ignored... unwanted... unknown... whatever?) and sometimes recording remembering (it is a long long way from may to december, or something like that) and that is what i got back to doing, the writing the record, a bit tonight (even if the smile seems to be missing a few teeth at the moment)... the water flows, the wind blows, the fire burns, the earth turns, and love is the fifth essential element to life (to life, l'chiam, aye?)...

bless yourself today, even if you didn't sneeze :)

breadcrumbs

all the little breadcrumbs that mark the long and winding road that can lead to your door, my door, any door (that's what breadcrumbs are for) after all, from the love we saved to the love we gave to the miracles on 34th street or promises in the dark, the musical lyrical references are but the sparkly shiny breadcrumbs, the colorful m&ms, even left along the path among so many other less obvious and more obscure pieces of fractal personality identity secrets nobody knows except the one who follows them all to wherever they may lead (and only there and then might we truly touch the magic moment so oft dreamt of, dreamed too, if life did not get in the way)... the laughing cloud mocks the sun's tear knowing the shadow is not forever and the sun will see the earth again... and the child giggles at the potential of the words... dream on...

bullsugar! :)

ephemeral

that word, i do not think it means what you think it means (ah, the wonder of quotations begged borrowed or stealed (modified, even) and is has been so very long to share to care to be well aware to love and be lost amidst the magic of romance and trust and the illusion of all that and unconditional love and how wildly fugacious of us (or someone) to have thought the concept in another future past space and time and head space were to for art thou you too and with muchness musicology and candor as if the moment had no end until it did, for the moment at least...

the werdness of the net

the internet, that is, cuz there is a difference here in the bullsugar backfround template and i don't like it and don't know who changed it cuz the extra space at the top has no purpose and drops the words lower than they were and takes they whole effect i chose this template for, the colors, away by putting them above the words so it is time to change templates and that sucks cuz i liked the one i chose and whomever changed it did a wrong and they take claim for it down below it seems...

bullshit!

what?... whatever

i mean, like, whatever (seriously, this is serious, dichotomously bipolar, even)... right, so i finally sort of updated the primary entry page to my web world (the only one left since att deleted the main gate, burned down the front door, and smashed all the windows {sorry joey} and so many other pages, sigh, yes, the house crumbles, but the heart remains... and att sucks... what was i saying?), ah yes, the back door now (suddenly) has a brand semi-new coat of semi-gloss paint (semi cuz the code is not perfect and width and height of the new vitally important text will change and overlay the rest of the page with every screen size smaller than a 15 inch monitor, but it's still brand semi-new and hopefully improved and potently (or potentially, even) fortified with ironic (isn't it?) explanations of what the world wide web was and sort of still is all about for me, personally, i mean, as a writing addict... yeah, whatever, and i know, you may not have noticed, but i am rather addicted to writing, for whatever it means like so maybe now someone will find my still beating heart within the crumbled wreckage of deleted pages that was once my home on the web and we'll fall in love and live happily ever after... wouldn't it be nice? :)

or bullsugar! :)

alakasasafrass

note that is with two esses, as one would be very different... and once again (or at least almost if you know what i mean, amazement swims in those bright brown eyes... or whatever color they may be today... and you, dear loves lost in ignorance, are missing the party, the story, the journey through the magical mystery tour of the mind that i experience (not to mention the web world)... for all you see is what you see...

bullsugar! :)

oh yeah

so many ways to say the words, oh yeah... ohhh yyeeahhh... deep voice, high voice, sexy voice, laughing boive, sly clever almost evil voice... and the home made frappacino i made last night and tonight have taken me to all of them... OHHH YEA-AH!...

and the youtubes deep thoughts, laughter, toons, and music have definitely helped... it has been so long since i gave myself the nights, the time to explore and set my mind free... and thought this six day trek was just scratching the surface, at least it got scratched...

oh yeah :)

wunnerfulworld

yeah, ya know, with a musical soundtrack, life is better than a movie...

fourty four blogs here at blogspot (though not all listed on my profile and a few shared)... thirty diaries at diaryland (though only about thirteen actually developed with theme and entries and all of those mostly sleeping these days)... and a few journals at live journal have long slept as well... and other elsewhere, some of which can be found here... why?... i am mentioning it because i want attention and feeback... i do it because releasing myself, real and imaginary, into words is cathartic...

also... so much bullsugar... and then some...

video fever

that's right, in case you found this place and haven't noticed, at least a half dozen videos popped into the random pop news blog from the serious to the nonsense from banal satire to serious social issues, the world outside the head came a knocking as i found time to wander around my emails and youtube and other newsy places...

posterity will have a lot of catching up to do... how about you? :)

what'dya miss?

oh surely you have not read every entry everywhere and even if you think you did, spent weeks or longer tracking down every entry i wrote, look again and you'll find some entries have slipped in between the ones you found when you were reading somewhere else... yes, that's right, write too... i write even more than you see and the overflow spills into the past as if they were already there... and if should come as no surprise cuz i've told you all this before...

you didn't know?...

must have missed that entry too :)

thereal exploded

referencing ethereal (even linked, which means something more, though i'll leave delving into the more for another time) where babble exploded and will follow here if i remain long (so i won't, cuz that's not what this is for, so there) but stopping by to bzzzzz some bullsugar at you cuz that's where it comes from (bullsugar is extracted from babble?... well, we'll have to talk to the scientists about that before we believe everything we read)... it was wonderful to be here (and certainly a thrill, with or without an audience, actually) cuz the imagination is the sweetest taste of all... happy new year everybody (and you too, wavey :)

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!

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

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 :}

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