In the middle of the night when I feel most alone I have no one to call so I talk to my phone voice to text is my friend maybe you understand I turn in to my words for a helping hand in the middle of a crowd when I feel most alone no connection is found just a sad monotone so I talk to myself and ignore silent stares behind whispers and moans no one really cares in the middle of the day when I feel most alone I want someone to stay but there’s nobody home I’ll look into their eyes isn’t anyone there just a vacancy sign and no one aware in the middle of a song when I feel most alone I listen for a tune but just hear monotone longing for harmony someone to sing with me so I dream by myself of something that could be so I sing by myself a love song fantasy. Don't forget

Bullsugar!

what happened to this one?

it appears there was an entry here and all that is left is a link to this entry in another blog which is oddly interesting in a kind of what the hell is that? i mean what is that thing? kind of steve martin saturday night kind of mocking way if you know what i mean because it could be some deep dark secret was revealed and nobody noticed so it disappeared or it might even be some magical formula that could save humanity from it's obvious self-destruction (spells apply here) but we may never know now because whatever it was, it is gone as if it never was and all that is left is this summary of the reflection on the disappearance and that link mentioned earlier...

sugar?...

thinking choices

so many humans are addicted to the rush of fear, anger, paranoia, depression, or some other thinking error that leads to hormonal surges, internal drugs, chemical addictions without even consuming a drug... some thinking errors become "illnesses" and others become accepted delusions (cuz if enough people believe a delusion, it become common-knowledge and truth for the moment {like the flat earth once was} and oh god, yeah, so many, though fewer, are addicted to external drugs, the legal ones and the illegal ones... sadly, the majority addicted to the thinking error emo-drugs and delusions do so much more damage to life than anyone else, not to mention condemning the minority who doesn't buy into the thinking errors...

and i sometimes wonder if i do any good with sarcastic mocking, laughing, and words like those above?... whatever the answer, it is better than sighing or the thinking errors... i choose the drug laughter brings... and occasionally, chocolate :)

too much to ask?

is it too much to want someone who wakes up with me as the first thought on her mind or someone who believe the sun rises and sets just for us i mean is it too much to ask for someone who feels i am their everything all i want is someone to want me as much as i want them to be the world to me... or is that just bullsugar?

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!

random pauses II

recently i wrote (in the land of couldabeens) something about entering another world that was like a revisiting of blogs phase (which lasts anywhere from a night to weeks or longer for those who may know) and for whatever reason, i paused a moment (that is a relative measure of time that could be as long or as short as time can be) in my recent re-visiting of blogs and left these three blogs open in nearly consecutive tabs on the browser (in fact, the pause occurred almost precisely at these three entries for whatever it may mean (and if you know how to paint targets around wherever the arrow(s) land (and if i had the time i might) for this (but i haven't had time for real in-depth re-visits, no less painting targets and even more in-depth explorations of reality fantasy and the magical moments between in a very long time, being time, after all), but i mention it here because i want to believe you used to know, i think, and you tried to understand and even liked knowing and wanting to read the creativity and possibly revealing babbling that these re-visiting phases once produced (and this probably shoulda been an entry in deeper places {all of which are pausing themselves, in fact}, so for now i leave only the randomness and possibilities this re-visit and this pause might become), just so you know cuz you used to want to, ya know, cuz somewhere in my head is the tapestry of threads that form the whole of it all, but for now, there is only the moment of brief memory of the infinite garden sprawling everywhere and anywhere with little or no apparent cohesive purpose or meaning or whatever (cuz moments can be like that) cuz there is no time to step back and focus on (or into) the big picture so as to understand it all, which happens when living in the microcosm of the moment(s) as if time was a linear string of random blips and was not one eternal infinite experience as in always...

so for now, as dan fogelberg sang, someday we'll all understand :)

and i hope today was a good day :)

button

sometimes, i love to push buttons... sometimes out of sheer boredom, most times out of innocent curiosity... i mean, if a button is there for all to see (or even if it is hidden and i am the only one to see it), what is the harm in pushing it?... isn't that what buttons are for?...

on the other hand, some buttons are booby trapped... especially buttons that people build, consciously or not, to cover up stuff they do not want to deal with (so here, push this button and blow it up and we will blame you for pushing the button instead of holding the bomb builder accountable for covering up the mess they tried to avoid)... this is especially true when dealing with humans with fragile egos and irrational fears and avoidance habits, people who would rather filibuster than resolve, people who conditioned themselves to be more comfortable with discomfort, conflict, and confusion than with peace, love, and happiness... know anybody like that?...

if you want to snap, why button?... or if you don't want to snap, why build a button?... why not a zipper?... are we making fun?... semantics are not the villain here, no matter what it looks like to you... but can you really answer the question?... what is the question?...

welcome to my work (professional life, that is... i defuse bombs... or set them off, depending upon perspective... personal life too, but that's another story for those who realize everyone does it to some degree)... i love the challenge most of the time, kind of the same way i love to push buttons, sometimes our of boredom, most times out of innocent curiosity... and if we can cut to the bottom line, my intention is to help... to remove the cover and resolve the fear and diffuse the bomb and allow peace, love, and happiness to overcome the discomfort, conflict, and confusion... but until you see that, sometimes i just ask...

why build a button, after all, if it is just to be ignored?... why build a button if it is never to be pushed?... makes no sense, really, unless you are looking for conflict, just setting a trap and if you are, even if you do not know it (and most probably don't, but that's another story), the next question may be is the trap for someone else or for you?...

of course i could be wrong... it could all be bullsugar... show me? :)

meaning in memories

once i found great meaning in memories, more than mere meaning, i found creativity and expression and understanding and emotion so profound that some of the most amazingly powerful near-as-can-be perfect bliss and euphoric moments in this life were experienced as i was writing and reading the creativity that my memories produced when i let go of all inhibitions and flowed into the timeless expanse of the written word, the written gardens as i called them once upon a time...

wishing you were somehow here again...

:)

relativeness

as opposed to relativity, i suppose, though that may be moot (or relative to perspective) as the pondering producing this postulation forms the words in the form of a question (thank you alex) of profoundity (or profundity or profoundness, for that matter) as if to query if everything was profound, would anything be profound and if everything was creative brilliance, would anything be creative brilliance and so ultimately in considering the relative meaningfulness of the individual blog entries right here and now i come to the question, if everything was equally meaningful, would anything have meaning?...

bullsugar? :)

where wandered i part seven hundred and eighty nine

with many hundreds of missing pieces uploaded not along the way and this, merely the bullsugar version of the conceptual browsing (or haunting, even) the momentary and then some nonesuch sundries et cetera with as much vim and vigor as as is mustard (or ketchuped) up at any given hour of the wee time, we unanimously present with all this fawning fanfare and irreverence the latest rendition of the choir of cybernetic angels singing ccourtesy with an independently alternative beat, this one...

fugacious love without trust
fugacious photos
vernon god little
radio 3 cbc
digital detox
fugacious lost portfolios
fugacious archives
the last fugacious (for now)

not that bad

really and if it is all just a test or a game or a chance encounter in time and space, it is what is is and what it is is right here waiting...

you?

moods, dudes

slap the fool silly who whines about emotions (oh you are so emo) as if feelings are cause to put someone down when the true value of life is to experience the physical roller coaster within and all around so just relax (or don't relax) and enjoy it with those who can (or all by yourself) and let those afraid of it to move on after they try to put you down (and you are the fool if you let them) laugh inside and realize (even when they will not) that they are just moods, dudes, treasure them while you've got them, they are better than alsheimers or being dead, cha cha cha...

it might have been grand

or at least a fiesta (collective groan, naturally, from all who know about the great car search of 2011), but c'est la vie and a merry man's chest (or davey jone's locker, for that matter) cuz maybe, maybe i'm wrong is still one of my favorite songs off one of my favorite albums by one of my favorite bands and the point is not lost just cuz the sleepy apathy that many read as depression covers the many other moods like a wet blanket cuz we will not go quickly into the night not me not you not i so there cuz that would be giving up and giving up is accepting death and i still have another thing or two to ramble on about so hold your horses mr undertaker and bring on another round of roller coaster for those of us who love (salute's unnecessary)...

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!

is?

anybody wanna grow older with me? (cuz we're not gonna grow old, right?)... ah, but alas, the rub is there and that is that there is nobody i know who is around my age who is (wait, one is too many, aye?) plays softball and basketball and runs and stays up all night and still parties like a little kid and most younger folk just don't have the experience to understand and while their little bodies are cute, there is so much more going on in my mind than anybody else i know so long too and maybe that is the thing that gives me the impression that nobody is as i is (am) cuz those who are are actually being like me and i am not (is that so?) so (so?) whatever is the point of the promises we made if all the promises are broken in the end (and is that the way it is or just the way it is for me?) alas, again, the rub is there and is you?

bullsugar! :)

loneliness

feeling it more and more lately, especially after social experiences, which makes sense as the social experiences lack the depth and intimacy that satisfies the hunger that breeds loneliness while waking up that same hunger… i’ve always been lucky (or wise) enough to know how to party with myself, that is, to enjoy life alone… after all, the reality of the physical experience is that we exist in separate physical bodies, at least as far as our perception allows us to understand the experience at the moment, so the best we can do is accept the isolation of being in separate bodies and learn to enjoy the experience within, alone… that doesn’t mean that sharing isn’t wonderful fun and rewarding in many worthwhile ways, we just should not fool ourselves into believing we cannot live without someone else because we do, live in separate bodies… so the sharing we call love, or falling in love that creates a need for someone else, is an illusion… an illusion that feels magical as it inspires emotions that amaze and frighten and work on our emotions like a roller coaster works on our physical senses… and that emotion is the real, physical experience that sharing brings and the hunger for that real physical experience is loneliness… based on the illusion that we need someone else, it becomes such a real hunger that it can become a physical addiction… i’ve experienced that, but the loneliness i feel now is a deeper sighing wanting, more eternal and infinite than momentary imperative… the hunger is wanting more than the momentary compromise of superficial sharing… even more than what billy joel sings about in honesty, though there is an excellent expression of the first step, a prerequisite… get it?... anybody?... ah, but that’s the rub, or there’s the rub, to be more classically inclined… not just anybody can satisfy the hunger in me, in fact, no one has ever truly satisfied it and i am less willing to compromise with each passing year…

all that to say i am feeling lonely lately… and that’s no bullsugar, aye?... or is it?... sigh…

bullsugar! :)

the missing

yeah, even though i haven't been home until almost midnight or beyond most nights and life is so very busy with fun and friends and work i love and giving and food and toys and softball and basketball and games i love and diverse groups of people sharing most of my diverse interests and some oddities and even some tv now and then, i miss you and the song just keeps playing on another endless repeat... and me too, i miss me too...

bullsugar! :)

2, 3, 4 (once again)

as in she was just seventeen (and you know what i mean), and the way she looked... oh baby, you know what i like cuz, well, oh... hours ago i arrived at this domicile in which I sleep when I sleep and I’ll entry that time later with a backdatestamp (it’s a new word, look it up when the future gets here) so you’ve already read it unless you are not reading chronologically and then all hell may break loose in your time stream so don’t get hung up on the line or it’ll be bullsugar, or something like that… last night, once again, meg and dia blue me away once again, last night, and again, it would be so explosive if she let it happen, but does she have as much guts as she dreams of or would she crumble like every other human due to fear of something or other… holy moses it was love at first site...

meanwhile, in another blog (snarfuckle :)

retro scratchin

no really no no no really really really this ought to have been a passive sentence in bullsugar not the real, aye? e e e yeah...

bullsugar! :)

cha cha cha ha ha ha ha

don't you ever get tired of the emo whining over at the daily life blog (aka e-the-real)?... i mean, come on, the pathos is pathetic and all but swallows all hope for rational thought (loneliness swallows positivity letting fear consume hope, such a human way, nyuk, nyuk, narf lol lam laa)...

there may never be enough time for anyone to really travel back to understand it all, after all, many of the online babblings and rhymes are no longer there and the online writings make up but a fraction of the lifetime written gardens and this is just one life, cha know? :)

and what good is any of it without love? :)