Happy Birthday

Happy what? It must be a New Year somewhere, as time is as relative as the comments left on old blogs when delayed by moderation. So I come here from the past to ask the same old story here, in case it matters, in this void so any call home on some level or other. Strange world, out there, yet I continue to return in spite of no sign of life for reasons beyond words. While other dream of games of thrones or handmaids tails, I seek a life where such power trips and egomania is far behind. Where honesty is the primary law and love the only religion. Where harm is the last thing anyone wants to do and because everyone has been enlightened to the peace and joy of kindness. I remain true to this seemingly impossible dream in these times of fear-justified selfishness, no matter the cost, and continue to give all I have away. Even those closest to me allow it, even as it is a road to destitution, discomfort, and self-induced dementia. Hope remains my closest companion, really. Some get the bull, some get the sugar. I remain right here waiting.

Waiting

Wow, this started so long ago and I finally started posting years later and it has been years since... we can wonder why if you want to, but for the moment, since you are not asking (at the moment of this writing in case someone does not know how relative time is on the internet as I write and may edit and post at three separate times and you likely read at at least fourth time and, well, time is relative as it is, but even more so in blogs on the internet. Still the time date stamp may be accurate sometimes, which just adds to the relativity and amuses me as most things do eventually while I am writing... it's why I write, in case you wondered and didn't know, among other reasons, but I believe digression shall conclude now and whatever it is I came here to write might actually happen), we'll just continue with whatever I came here to write), I wait until you do. Bullsugar! :)

she was a bad girl

stumbling stupid weak and whiny tp still stuck to her hiney wither worry left behin'e approaching the night before, heard the whisper, evermore... reaking of the cheap elixor prayers were never gonna fix 'er compound interest has kissed her greed corruption and still more, heard the madness, evermore... delicate toes tipped around her pretending that no one found her even the dog would not hound her as she laid there on the floor, heard the liquor, evermore... cancer finally consumed her kindness and payment perfumed her even the worms cried, "exhume her", corrupting the earthly core, heard the maggots, evermore...

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?...

somewhere out there

there is bullsugar going on and bullsugar entries and all sorts of bullsugar has been happening and occurring and going on all over here and there and the bullsugar just has not been recorded here so it appears that there was no bullsugasr going on but believe you me bullsugar has been going on indeed it has so no worries about the bullsugar in this lifetime, or blog, even, cuz there's been plenty of bullsugar, oodles, even, bullsugar galore going on in the world and even if it is not recorded here, it is...

bullsugar! :)

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? :)

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? :)

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? :)

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 :)

was there ever a doubt?

silly child, of course not (what did you think the answer would be?... and why if you dare, huh huh huh? smiley face giggle) cuz the facts of life at least as they have been laid out for me in this particular life experience are beyond ironic (even when i am a moody emo child silly one) the joyous laughter tickles me inside (even when we are all wondering what what is what, or which, for that matter... what? what? what? what?) the game comes around sooner or later or so the philosophy goes (comes around, goes around, you know, that what) so tonight it did and there is no stopping the party for the bullsugar (or anything, cha cha cha (no really, seriously even, did you have any doubt?)... oh come on, over even, here's a hug)...

wish you were here :)

more to life

are you still dreaming or are you cheesecake dancing through your pickled life amidst fractal thinking bent mental contructs bleeding delusional logic feeding irrational beliefs and fruitcake holidays, but not to be denied there is a cure for that and they call it awakening to your own conscious awareness or death, depending on perspective and personally life is more appealing, so here is to hoping you get the point and more, you live it...

cuz there's more to life than bullsugar!

could you be any less cohesive?

what in the world (and happy birthday to an old friend i miss even as an ethereal bit of fluffy smoke in the older memory cells of the brain) could be going through the synapses with such a tittle we may never know, but certainly there is something profoundly curious in the way words flow through this place and if i didn't know better i would think they were painted by numbers laid out by some higher power as just to amuse those who are agnostically inclined and still, be that as it may or may not be, the folly meets the purpose somewhere between the lines for anyone with any real caring to be aware and ask, even, cuz in the end you are made if you gave all your love...

and bullsugar!

squeezing it out

so i take the laptop into the bathroom to squeeze out another entry (but geeeze surely, don't call me bullsugar, if you know what i mean) while somewhere in the distance as if from some future dream (or nightmare) a voice ponders whether a kid who loved t2 knew the star was his dad and is le-lo enjoying house arrest too much and is leann too skinny in her skimpy bikini (but can we show the photo another few times) as if that matters in our lives, but that's when i dive for the remote to change the channel or better yet, turn off the world's most popular (and probably most influential and possibly most destructive) distraction as i add one more round to this party bus loosely called (all together now)...

bullsugar!

every rug i've known

every rug i've known seems to be made (or have been made, for that matter) to be pulled out from under me, but then, that's probably because i choose to weave (and step on) magic carpets while imagining that i can invite someone on to share it and settle down, as if that is even possible, so now that it's all figured out, i might as well play the fall (foal?... foil?... fool?... fa la la la la, ya falla?) again and lay down candles in the wind cuz if i die, i die, and if not, well, i pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again...

what else is new...

bullsugar!

missing pieces

this was a different kind of blog of sorts that the critics liked more than the others because it was less personal and more creative in an abstract kind of randomly casual methodology of thoughts and such that mattered only for a moment if that long and occasionally could have been profound if one delved into the meaning but the story never really got off the ground because the emo grabbed thin air and fell from the sky with silent messages (what?) from the sci-fi imagination to the wishing well of emotions long sleeping long burning long lost in the busy business of living each day and then, it got sleepy and less fun to read and write, so the critics went away leaving their own form of silent messages that sent mr tanner back to sorting through his clothes singing softly to himself as i used to do once upon a time, so what is left now...

bullsugar!

praise the chips and pass the ketchup

somewhere back in time or maybe just a few moments ago in an entry that will not be found easily as it was predated just cuz i felt like it tonight there was an intention to do something (in the way she moves?) with that link but for the life of me i do not recall what or where or if i did, but then, for all the profound meaning some may find in the words or placement of pauses or entries, for that matter, they may as well be french fries for most of you cuz everything is better with bullsugar...

ketchup!

it's all about the flippancy

even deep within the feelings so many fear and others put down and still others attack with vigor and stupidity, the point of life is to find the smiles behind the frowns and see the rainbows through the tears and tickle your funny bone even when your arm is broken...

or something like that...

being different

being different is not acceptible in our culture, which is the clearest hypocrisy of all as the collective egocentric insecurity of humanity is quick to slam the lid on the box of anyone who steps out of it a little too far for collective comfort (from socrates to charlie sheen, from jesus to john lennon, from galileo to timothy leary), challenge the status quo, religion, politics, drug laws, anything people are afraid of or afraid to change, really, and you are ostracized… let's not even get into race, religion, politics, language, or simple physical appearance... just look like the majority and act different, challenge too much, and you are jailed or killed… different ideas are the thing that scare people most and will get you hurt or killed fastest... or in our supposedly enlightened humane modern world, sent to counseling which is basically a demand for conformity or else you’ll be prescribed drugs you do not want to take or have your freedom taken away… you know what that is, right?...

bullsugar!

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! :)