and i am still here

and you are still there... sleeping no doubt, or sitting in silence... looking at the hour, when sleep covers most of the western hemisphere, i sit awake wondering why... why we do the things we do... why a child blows up another child... why a man soils his nest... why a woman helps him do it... why a leader does not give peace a chance... why a government for the people allows most of the people to fall farther and farther into debt-slavery... why a people allow the government to stand when it is so immersed in supporting a corporate world that it chews up and spits out a people... why self-destruction is so clearly the human way and why so many people would rather stick their heads in the sand and take it up the ass than face this fact... why we bother continuing to have children when we are destroying the world we leave them... why we empower fear over love...

and we still say... sweet dreams...

and then the night comes

it is not just a love of the night, the dark, the time everybody else is asleep and not playing the insecure human games... it is also because i feel like if i go to sleep, i might miss something, like the one... mostly it's subconscious... as odd ot strange or whatever as it seems, it is as it is as i am as the day rolls into evening and the evening ends and then the night comes...

wish i could explain it better...

the facts of death

good days, bad days, whatever, it doesn't matter in the end and especially not if there's nobody who cares along the way... how many good days go by unshared and sadder, perhaps, is how many bad days have happened with no one even taking notice, no concilation, no comfort from anywhere but within, that end-it-all feeling of nobody cares...

here we are...

still awake (still longing)

and i am still longing for someone to share it all and alament over the probability that you miss it all, or most of it, no matter how many different ways i try to share it, point you to it, wishing and hoping for your attention... even as as i love every minute of it all by myself, there is the dream of someone staying awake with me and sharing it all...

and it could be that i am just deluding myself into believing my few minutes (or hours, sometimes) a day putting videos online in my own pop news blog (that amuses me with stories and information I find in the news or on youtube or somewhere, some tongue in cheek, some controversial, some serious, some irreverent) or in my more personal video me blog (where I put videos that touch me, reflect me, affect me, and in some ways, represent me)… and the time I take to write words in my current daily life blog which is what it is, a record of the life I live and it matters to me…

even if no one ever cares to share any of it…

and after i do all that, still more is here, in the afterblog, the tip of the rest of all i want to share in the real world... and all the rest of the writings are a fraction of what is offline, but still you miss the bullsugar and all the rest and even the deleted pages (which I will do my best to find and re-upload one day cuz I care, again, even if nobody else ever does), they matter, i come here hoping somebody will find it all and share it all someday…

what?

ironically colored

the date, that is, seems most appropriate for the colors of this blog (at least the colors of the moment and i tend to change blogs a lot more than i shange blog layouts... hey, maybe that's one big reason i change blogs, aye?...

anyway, still here, alone, after...

so predictable

the words come out, silly, superficial, social, and of course, self-involved, but then, that's why a personal daily blog is about, right?... still, nobody pays attention (or at least nobody says so), so here again, alone in the afterblog... so predictable...

lonesome songs

if i was in touch with my heart, that is, if i had time to listen to it, i'd hear it singing lonesome songs... i enjoy the life living moment to moment, the fun of the the games (softball, board, numbers, and so on), the challenges at work, all fun for me... and staying so busy i don't have time to listen or feel what is missing much (focus on and appreciate what is not what is not... that is the key to a happy healthy life) keeps me genuinely happy because i am happy within myself with myself... there is still a hunger to share that is not being fed, a desire to love and be loved that is not being fulfilled, and that is why, late at night, after the blog is over, my heart sings lonesome songs...

luckily i love most of those songs :}

midnight questions

who am i talking to anyway?
imaginary readers?
potential friends in the physical world?
gonna run?
gonna hide?
gonna come out?
gonna come inside?
gonna let me in?
show me where you've been?
show me who you are?
now near, how far?
whatever, we are who, we are what, we are where
we are
we are
we are
we…
never mind the obvious child
wake me when we get to why...

counting the zeros

often i am told how much my words mean to the world, to people i have never met or may never meet, to people who will read the words in some future time...

and i wonder how that is possible when 90% of what i write is ignored or missed and 90% of the other 10% is left without response... and those i once thought close drift off and out of touch...

counting the zeros in front of the word comments...

spent all my time waiiting

only to find out that second chance was null and void almost a decade ago... would have been nice to have known...

did you ever see city of angels, the film, the story, the life?...

i mean, did you ever really see city of angels?

one.

i even check email

yes, my hunger for sharing must be growing because lately, i even check email to see if there is any communication, or any blog comments or new posts to read... i should probably get out more...

awakening

it's worse when you wake up to find there's no one listening to your mind and all the world is fast asleep and loneliness becomes too deep and for all the words upon the shelf you might as well just play with yourself...

latent consistency

if, in the end, i came here every night after everything else and wrote something meaningful, something profound, or even just something that i wanted to share, innocuous, personal, general, specific, serious, irreverence, nonsense, or whatever... something just for you, just before bed, just the curl up nod off sweet dreams thoughts that i leave in the custody of your arms as i sleep...

would it matter in the end if you missed an entry?

the story

The story can be found everywhere, personally, privately, and publicly, but the bottom line remains i am here to share. The words are the hope and actualized sharing that inspires the feeling and belief in not being alone that you might call god or God.

Get that, and you may begin to get me.

yeah, so whatever

What am I doing awake? I have a full day conference tomorrow during which staying awake will be challenging enough on a full night's sleep and here I am still wide-eyed and wishing someone would find me, love me, and share some meaningful moments with me. Fool or pathetic hopelessly hopeful romantic dreamer. You oughta know.

What's the difference?

just plain irony

Time isn't the only one.


.

and then, nothing again

and then, when nobody came, i knew there was no point other than hope, so i hoped...

crud, cud, could, would, should, good, fudd, dud, crud

the cycle of life.

what's the point, really?

it's not despair or hopelessness, it's a very sober question... have you an answer?... what's the point if nobody heard?

reciprocation is not caring

so if I leave you a comment and you respond and I leave you another and you respond and I don't leave a comment for a few weeks and you respond by not responding and we sit in silence and then I leave another comment and you respond, is that caring?...

I don't think so...