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! :)

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!

All The Years

Yes, I am fine and you can find all the years are marked in time in blogs and so much more (and more) as they pass (the last eight) and you can go back even further and even back further still and if you look for it you can find history almost to the very beginnings of what we might call me (who me? what?) and that (and this) is just the fraction of the writings that have made it online, I mean, in case it matters to you (get it, in case it matters to you). Yes, I know, there is a lot and today there is still more and that just scratches the surface of this life in words and images and video and music and bullsugar you can find on the web. From brief philosophy to universal news of the world (universes, even) to songs you never heard to wordz from who knows where the fundamental truth is self-evident for anyone to find (who cares, aye?) and I'll repeat it in case you wonder or have any concern that I am fine in case you think I've lost my mind. Remember?

Yes, Bullsugar!

passing through

and for no apparent reason i discovered myself here remembering what it was like to be free of the foibles and follies (what's the difference after all) of the responsibilities of daily life and random acts of kindness were easy without the stress of worry of rejection or homelessness because i was not dependant on anyone or anything outside of myself for my joyful laughter and secure self-esteem which was an excellent time in this life that should be on everyone's bucket list at least once if not always and even though i wandered astray from that idyllic paradise in my mind it still exists for my rapture and casual comfort whenever i dare to stop running the maze long enough to bring awareness of life and my existence to upper consciousness and once again everything is wonderful in it's own way...

even bullsugar! :)

really?

it may be that i lack an audience because i enjoy irreverence (and word play leading to repetitive redundancy and parenthetic distraction) so much i may appear to present as pretentious obscurantism or perhaps i am just misunderstood but i do wander into wonder a lot more than the average pineapple and we can easily be distracted by almost anything, even squirrels, and there are those profoundly meaningful or meaningless questions (because everything's relative) that come to mind like why are brits afraid to smile (teeth issues in their genes, perhaps) or would Richard Dawkins hate me or is there a point to all this (or all this, even) and of course the occasional love of meaninglessness, like pretentious obscurantism, is in the mind of the beholder relative, remember?) for everything is always a matter of perspective and opinion, after all (except what we know for sure, that is), but don't mind me, i am still looking for empirical evidence of my own existence...

and bullsugar! :)

do hornets like donuts?

what the frick, what the frack, what the knackity-knack it's a clicky clack world, clicky clack clicky clack and there's no skipping forward and there's no going back, there is just moving on on life's one way track so even though nobody beats the beatles (as if cuteness was not a crime) a friend asked me once upon a time, do hornets like donuts and i said what? and what's that gathering my head sniffing about like a hound? do hornets like donuts? that's what she said, whatever could have been going through her head, do hornets like donuts? well, let's hope they do at least more than me (koo koo ka chooo) do hornets like donuts, do hornets like donuts? do hornets like, donuts? (dough nuts horn nets horn nuts doh doh dee doh doh) so i heard once again do hornets like donuts? and i thought that is so Seuss, a thought in a noose, daring to hang around, but this is not Seuss with meter too loose, daring to mock a sound, so what is this then a poem of zen? about what it's not to be found yeah well, if hornets like donuts then wasps might resign to dine with an ant on a mound and somebody else asked does it astound? as if the animaniacs themselves were not profound and not just...

bullsugar! :)

where for art

beyond the secrets, beyond the illusions of magic or miracles or whatever the mind might come up with the explain the unknown instead of exploring it, beyond the fears that people empower to blind them from learning, from knowing, from understanding more, from being more so some express themselves through what we call art in order to find acceptance as new ideas appear less threatening when we call them art because people fear not knowing so creativity produces the illusion of knowing in the serious reality while art allows the mind to skate along the thin ice of wondering and imagining and almost accepting not knowing...

or something like that :)

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?...

younger every day

yes, sometimes i feel like i am getting younger every day and it's not just the chocolate talking either cuz the power feels so real and that could be a perception manifestation of becoming more aware every day and the awareness presents the perception of being younger when in fact the time passing is physically adding a day of life to this life every day which would be something quite the opposite of getting younger and yet it still feels like i am getting younger every day so illusion or not, it's a good feeling...

even if it's mostly bullsugar :)

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? :)

The Afterblog: the party of living: so much more

The Afterblog: the party of living: so much more is a dichotomy of connective blog tissue that accidentally happened, like a kind of blog mutation, as is this entry, for at this moment of writing i have no idea where it is going... the bottom line we can draw from this is that life is unpredictable and whether random or destiny, whether carefully planned or chaos, whether creative magic or an empty page, whether profound essence or meaningless drivel, whether sunshine and lollipops or stormy weather, whether a concise expression with tangible value or a seemingly endless series of comparative metaphors, similes, and what not that leads down a long and winding road to nowhere, man, whether a wonder beyond any imagination or a slippery slope of infinite distraction that appears to be spinning out of control, whether something or nothing, whether art or bullsugar, it is a party with you or without you, and as long as i remember that and remember that i enjoy every moment alone or with others, i can and do and i suggest you should do the same... that is all (for now :)

not a very scientific poll

right, so lately, besides wondering if my ideas and humor and honesty should be shared openly in public while i am looking for a job in this area, i've been debating ethics and integrity in my head... and what do you do on your nights off?... but i suppose i really should keep the focus on the job search (and thank you for all the support) until i find one... feel free to discuss among yourself...

and then maybe i should mention that i posted this on facebook (hence the title of this entry, yo)... heck, this isn't even proper bullsugar...

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? :)