unrequited inspiration defines the Muse

whilst adaptive capacitance constructs the muse's vessel.


///

There are no odds, no karmic comeuppance; i lack any pavement naps lately to inspire the usual self-mocking satirical questions. Instead I find it difficult to ledger mine thoughts due to unagitated contentment.

and ADD. Why don't spellcheckers use a grammar based word-construction algorithm before sampling the library? Will unchecked laziness be the downfall of creative conversationists, or is it all planned? Conspiracy's will to exist seems inexorable, unquenchable questioning ever encompassing the skeletal structure of osseous facts and figures so steadfastedly supporting our single-minded society. The flexibility provided by the evils of explorative questioning lie unappreciated outside their realm. Is there no striding the fence? Shall opposing sides never join in cooperative glory?

Am i blinded by the idea of a Single Light that doesn't exist? Or is the blinding light the superior shadow cast by the pall of permanent individual seclusion? Perpetuation in our human existence seems impossible without at least 2 parts to interact. But what are 2 parts except two footsteps in sequence from a single host? See?

But what is 1 without 2, then 3, and finally 5 to balance them all around 1? 4 is just a 2 in two places at once. 5 is the permiter of our dynamic containment unit, somehow able to juggle a 1 and two 2's around without sweatbreaking.

Math ruins romance by demanding emotionless logic over irrational chemistry. Music ruins math from within.

Music is interesting. Does it permeate all of existence or only our ability to percieve, and hence all we perceive? ie, Do we see music or see with music? The blind man sees with his hands.


///



i am probably faced with Just the Right Amount of decisions, as opposed to Too Many, but its hard to tell, and thus my current problem. Where do i move to?

I did my taxes, so i get a check, another stimulus is on its way, and hence i've been given a nice Reset Button, 1-Up Mushroom, or whatever you want to call it, from Life and the Universe and Existence I Guess. All of my tracking and study of humanity and thoughts with their processes has me amalgamated to a particular decision; that being that now is a good time to start something permanent. Life is not a huge gambling table or gladiatior ring right now, its more akin to a blank slate. Or slowly blankening slate. I am loathe to thinking that by stating i'm proclamating, but either way (whether i'm simply stating or unfortunately prophetizing) the current position is looking skyward to a golden star falling right at me as if a boon from the heavens; some starboarding deity travels by my part of the cosmos, and i am showered with golden fortune. so its on its way and i better still get it even though i'm talking about it before its gotten here.

So where do i go? I am already set on what i am to do. Its now, i have lifted the time upon me and i'm shouldering it to the finish line. So where do i do it? ha ha, fooled me! I bet i thought all i had to do was do what i had to do to get where i wanted to go, but no! Uh uh, i have to choose where to start too.

No its not that.

Its the ultimate question i've ever backed down from. Do i leave everything i'm close to to?

Do i leave everyone i'm close to?

Is it leaving?

who knows? seriously nowadays the planet is not that hard to shout across and talking relieves the soul of distance, to a degree. Releaves? to apply extra leafs too? i digress.

Wouldst leaving truly help me to find everything else that i'm missing, everything else i've only ever dreamed about so far because i never.....never left?

I didn't leave when i was 6 and i knew i could but didn't. at first i wanted to be older; to have the experience of being 8 but still be 6. Then i wanted to be 10 and stay 10 and not get any older then 10. And bit by bit i stepped through the growing process to fill the shoes i wear today with a size 12 realization that i'm still the same person i was when i was a baby and had no idea that nobody was actually understanding what i was thinking. I remember learning to speak as if it was backwards to communication. Up until that point, i felt pretty understood and confident in mine understanding of those around me, and that the sounds people made were loud echoes that permeated all but importance in my conciousness. When i figured out that people were associating sounds with things and we weren't all telepathic, a little part of me groaned inside.


And i've been the same ever since. True i've progressed in depth and experience, time fueling the nuances of personality and filling lists of likes and dislikes, but my "self" as i've known it has ever been the same. I treat life as an inexorable gulping of input that i adaptively process and understand. I am the clamp on the vortex, milking the excess of the straddled middle, the maelstromous teat of a battleground where the opposites of our existence meet and feed my conciousness. Well, its not "mine" in that its only mine, its mine like some apples that i would "have" were then also considered "mine." The apples are everywhere and are actually everybody's then, but in our temporally local dialect, mine has a personal connotative measure carrying an implication of ownership. And ownership, in my observance, is like a virus of thought. It takes ideas grown from input and turns them into powder kegs of useless destructiveness. The idea that you, alone, can own something, only grows a need inside you to own more, to own anything, because you assume a feeling, associate a sense of being with the thought of ownership, albeit unintentionally, and never figure out the ultimate interaction of nature by Sharing. Sharing is Ownership By All, and thus Ownership by None. We cannot always share, and so its better if we do not have to.


blah blah blah can you tell its late?


Bandering words about is obligatory, but i figure you can understand how i feel. Right now i know that i do not have to use all of my strengths at once, but to plan them out in a flowiful pattern is key. I am to use my best strengths, that is the ones with the greatest and quickest feedback. But its easy to talk about doing it. Figuring out the details is the hard part. Where do i go?

Where do i go from here? It's time to move again.

I know a good deal of ins and outs when it comes to Human Life. I've developed a manner of riding the waves. Now i have to put it to use or die. Die the slowest painful death of decay. Its so deep the skin doesn't register it, but the soul does. The heart bleeds from it, but it remains internal. Morbid!

But yeah. NY city? New Hartford? Kuaia? Idaho? New Zealand? Irvine? Back to Anchorage? Stay in Caz? New Woodstockshire or wherever Nick is building? Chicago? Spin the globe and pick a spot at random?


so many options.

go with the flow? or row to a flow that goes with my mojo?


its deep into thursday morning and i've yet to relinquish my dreams.

I wonder when they're gonna tell you about how they dredge the coasts so the waves kick too high for small manned craft heading beachside?

////


as for a normal status update, i picked up 40 hours for my job at alberts, and 10 or so hours at the pizza parlour. so i get 50 hours a week, thats not bad. i should be able to collect a realistic 200$ a week into savings, considering i've about a conservative 40 hours. By the time my lease is up, i should be able to wield a formidable pocket.

And to what ends, oh master Myself, shall I put them to use?

Strapping Young Lad's "The New Black" is my newest favorite. It sounds like music i hear in my head. Devind Townsend follows some kind of similar wavelengths as I, i imagine.



my health was quickly requisitioned to a winterized (ie slightly chubbed out) version of myself. All i need is to fill my time with more activity. My energy levels have lapsed nothing, and i find myself eager to keep adding hours of work to my days. All is within my grasp, i know. You all are too kind in your words of encouragement, but am i the only one to realize that grasping it will briskly whisk me away?

either way i must come to terms with leaving. I always choose to stay, and it hasn't worked out so far. Only saying no has gotten easier and more comfortable. Its like saying No makes things easier and more comfortable. much like not ever saying No seems to make things easier.



...

spring rolls over and pulls the covers tight. She sleeps in and suddenly summer is upon us!

its Pungenday, day 43 in the season of Chaos and year 3175, according to my discordian calendar. its 4:36 in the morning according to my laptops clock.

its time to goto bed according to my inner judgement.