Almost 2200 Hours
Should I go to Trader Joe's or Whole Foods?
Trader Joe's seems sketchy today.
I'll go to Whole Foods and buy deionized water and some kind of milk. Maybe almond milk or soy milk. I don't feel like drinking cow milk lately. Oh, and Electrum said she survived off oatmeal for a while. I should get oatmeal. Oh and raisins, yes, raisins for the oatmeal.
People seem to be "off" today. Maybe it's because of the rain. It's like Vermont. Or it could be because it's Friday too and they want to run their errands and get home.
I'm not sure I want to drive to yoga. The parking lot might be a mess. But if I ride the bike it will probably rain on me. It will rain all over my face and I have heavy eye makeup on. I wonder if people think it's weird I don't wash my face before yoga. If I already have makeup on I just go like that. But lately I haven't been getting very hot.
God this woman behind me is in a big hurry. So I didn't turn right when I could have because this biker was in the bike lane fiddling with something and I was afraid to hit him.
I wish I had enough money to buy Nicorette. I think it's more addictive than cigarettes.
Somewhere in an isolated locked down room, on the ninth floor of an obscure building, in an unknown state, a computer feed is running. There is an electronic feed and a paper feed. Due to advances in technology it is now possible to monitor and document (almost) every thought of specific human/alien modified hybrids. It is a specialization of "neural-mapping." Although initially the discovery of such capabilities usually elicits embarrassment, it's located on a level where "embarrassment" has been overcome, and is no longer relevant.
I feel good today. I mean I have a really good life. I really do.
Part of what I like about today is I don't feel like I have to try as hard. I think I'm finally coming out of that phase where I was overexerting myself in an attempt to prove I'm still strong. It wasn't very feminine.
It feels better to move with less effort, but I have to be careful not to get lazy.
Oh no, I knew this was going to happen.
Now I'm picturing this guy and I doing this strange dance together. I feel kind of bad because I pegged him for having a certain "type." Thin, tall, short blonde hair, blue eyes, white, wealthy, doesn't have to be that smart. The truth is I'm just as much of a predator as I kind of made him out to be in my memo. I mean he fits my "type". If we ever sleep together he would actually be the fifth one in that category. Hm, this makes me sound bad. I haven't slept with that many people, but the point is I find myself drawn to a certain type. The part that makes me feel guilty is that all of them came after one man. It's that one man I'm somehow managing to find in different people. I'm drawn to him, he's like honey to me, so I'm fond of his resemblances. I'm not even sure if I would like the original anymore, but something tells me I would. The memories fill a place in my soul, in my heart, in my body. Real sustenance. But I feel guilty because this is a different person, with a different story, and am I not using him in some sense?
I mean I fantasized about him, and then when he touched me it felt right.
And then he said something about a love story that hasn't coalesced yet (wasn't ready). For me it isn't what it sounds like. It isn't some big Casablanca affair. It's more clandestine and covert. And it's not like a big lifetime love story.
It's about love, but it's complicated. It isn't the stereotypical big deal. Have I said that yet? What I'm trying to say, what's important, is that it is about love. And when I find love connections I tell myself first to be careful, and second I know it's important.
Here's how I see it going, because it's not the right time at all now. Like I said I see us dancing. We go away and come back again a lot.
This is scarily obvious of me.
What can I say?
To whittle it down. The right time comes. On the wrong day. Maybe it's the right day for him, but it's the wrong day for me. We've played everything else out that we could possibly play out. So here we are. And this could be a year away or three years away. It could be in Colorado or in California. But we find ourselves at that point. That point.
Which also means we can't take it anymore and we have to sleep together. And it's cliché in a way, but there's a reason why we use the cliché. I don't honestly think at any time either of us actually wants a relationship. This is because our work, ugh, our passions, ugh, our interactions behind the scenes - away from each other - are so rich that we don't really want to see that much of each other - in person. It's too much. We're playing a love game - thanks Lady Gaga. And a death game. And a psychological fantasy game. And we find out more all the time, even when we don't think we will. And it's shocking to see it build, because in the beginning it was so faint. I'm sure it was even more faint, close to non-existent, or non-existent, for him. And it wasn't even me that really brought any of his attention to me. It was all the things that happened to him.
And if you're one of "us." Those of us who are in this for life, with no going back, you understand. The reason why people get involved is because it is so damn intriguing. It is so damn addictive and interesting. It is so sexy and scary. Seriously the experience is on a phenomenal evolutionary scale that heightens the sexual experience in ways that people can't get enough of.
So the next time I'm out it probably won't be me who's watching him. Or me who sees him watching me, watching someone else, from behind a concrete pillar. Next time it will be that he sees me and I truly have no idea.
That's when it gets real for me.
And this is why I write.
The computer doesn't hum. It doesn't bleep. The fans are consolidated in a way that nothing is heard. The monitor looks at the recording and sighs, because the department chair will never live this down. The mirroring is becoming mind boggling. A computer reading of a woman recording the recording and documenting the documentation, and then noting the recording and the documentation while it's being documented. And so on. And it bears resemblance also to what she's thinking about and writing about, because it is so damn interesting, it is so damn fascinating, and it is so damn sexy.
21:53 5/22/15 Planet Earth (Climate change in effect)
Trader Joe's seems sketchy today.
I'll go to Whole Foods and buy deionized water and some kind of milk. Maybe almond milk or soy milk. I don't feel like drinking cow milk lately. Oh, and Electrum said she survived off oatmeal for a while. I should get oatmeal. Oh and raisins, yes, raisins for the oatmeal.
People seem to be "off" today. Maybe it's because of the rain. It's like Vermont. Or it could be because it's Friday too and they want to run their errands and get home.
I'm not sure I want to drive to yoga. The parking lot might be a mess. But if I ride the bike it will probably rain on me. It will rain all over my face and I have heavy eye makeup on. I wonder if people think it's weird I don't wash my face before yoga. If I already have makeup on I just go like that. But lately I haven't been getting very hot.
God this woman behind me is in a big hurry. So I didn't turn right when I could have because this biker was in the bike lane fiddling with something and I was afraid to hit him.
I wish I had enough money to buy Nicorette. I think it's more addictive than cigarettes.
Somewhere in an isolated locked down room, on the ninth floor of an obscure building, in an unknown state, a computer feed is running. There is an electronic feed and a paper feed. Due to advances in technology it is now possible to monitor and document (almost) every thought of specific human/alien modified hybrids. It is a specialization of "neural-mapping." Although initially the discovery of such capabilities usually elicits embarrassment, it's located on a level where "embarrassment" has been overcome, and is no longer relevant.
I feel good today. I mean I have a really good life. I really do.
Part of what I like about today is I don't feel like I have to try as hard. I think I'm finally coming out of that phase where I was overexerting myself in an attempt to prove I'm still strong. It wasn't very feminine.
It feels better to move with less effort, but I have to be careful not to get lazy.
Oh no, I knew this was going to happen.
Now I'm picturing this guy and I doing this strange dance together. I feel kind of bad because I pegged him for having a certain "type." Thin, tall, short blonde hair, blue eyes, white, wealthy, doesn't have to be that smart. The truth is I'm just as much of a predator as I kind of made him out to be in my memo. I mean he fits my "type". If we ever sleep together he would actually be the fifth one in that category. Hm, this makes me sound bad. I haven't slept with that many people, but the point is I find myself drawn to a certain type. The part that makes me feel guilty is that all of them came after one man. It's that one man I'm somehow managing to find in different people. I'm drawn to him, he's like honey to me, so I'm fond of his resemblances. I'm not even sure if I would like the original anymore, but something tells me I would. The memories fill a place in my soul, in my heart, in my body. Real sustenance. But I feel guilty because this is a different person, with a different story, and am I not using him in some sense?
I mean I fantasized about him, and then when he touched me it felt right.
And then he said something about a love story that hasn't coalesced yet (wasn't ready). For me it isn't what it sounds like. It isn't some big Casablanca affair. It's more clandestine and covert. And it's not like a big lifetime love story.
It's about love, but it's complicated. It isn't the stereotypical big deal. Have I said that yet? What I'm trying to say, what's important, is that it is about love. And when I find love connections I tell myself first to be careful, and second I know it's important.
Here's how I see it going, because it's not the right time at all now. Like I said I see us dancing. We go away and come back again a lot.
This is scarily obvious of me.
What can I say?
To whittle it down. The right time comes. On the wrong day. Maybe it's the right day for him, but it's the wrong day for me. We've played everything else out that we could possibly play out. So here we are. And this could be a year away or three years away. It could be in Colorado or in California. But we find ourselves at that point. That point.
Which also means we can't take it anymore and we have to sleep together. And it's cliché in a way, but there's a reason why we use the cliché. I don't honestly think at any time either of us actually wants a relationship. This is because our work, ugh, our passions, ugh, our interactions behind the scenes - away from each other - are so rich that we don't really want to see that much of each other - in person. It's too much. We're playing a love game - thanks Lady Gaga. And a death game. And a psychological fantasy game. And we find out more all the time, even when we don't think we will. And it's shocking to see it build, because in the beginning it was so faint. I'm sure it was even more faint, close to non-existent, or non-existent, for him. And it wasn't even me that really brought any of his attention to me. It was all the things that happened to him.
And if you're one of "us." Those of us who are in this for life, with no going back, you understand. The reason why people get involved is because it is so damn intriguing. It is so damn addictive and interesting. It is so sexy and scary. Seriously the experience is on a phenomenal evolutionary scale that heightens the sexual experience in ways that people can't get enough of.
So the next time I'm out it probably won't be me who's watching him. Or me who sees him watching me, watching someone else, from behind a concrete pillar. Next time it will be that he sees me and I truly have no idea.
That's when it gets real for me.
And this is why I write.
The computer doesn't hum. It doesn't bleep. The fans are consolidated in a way that nothing is heard. The monitor looks at the recording and sighs, because the department chair will never live this down. The mirroring is becoming mind boggling. A computer reading of a woman recording the recording and documenting the documentation, and then noting the recording and the documentation while it's being documented. And so on. And it bears resemblance also to what she's thinking about and writing about, because it is so damn interesting, it is so damn fascinating, and it is so damn sexy.
21:53 5/22/15 Planet Earth (Climate change in effect)
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