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Okay, folks, I've been talking about this with people individually for some days now, and its been startling to me to accept.   But I think I finally have a handle on it, so I'm just going to put it down here, and leave it unless someone wants to bring it up. My depression has lifted. It is completely gone.Collapse )
Current Location:
Here and now
Current Mood:
Yes
Current Music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wigqKfLWjvM
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-or- What's keeping me up tonight!

Aside from noticing the changes in LJ format, I was recently learning about a concept called Simulated Reality. Not entirely new to me in theory, but I had no idea people were putting so much work into it. Then again maybe they weren't. Maybe this is the latest update to my sim. Since then, I've seen postings for articles on the subject cropping up in my browser.
[But now I'm plagued with all these issues about my memory.]
I have exactly two real memories of my Great Grandmother. I have three of my Great Grandfather. The first one is of them together. Then one of him alone. And for each, seeing their bodies at their funerals.

I spent the first five years of my life living in grandparents home with my teenage mother and aunts and uncles always around. I distinctly recall the importance of the moment to me. I felt as if me of the future was sending me at the age of four the message that I needed to remember this. I recall feeling as though I was encouraged to stay out of sight, or out of the way. I think there was concern that I might overwhelm these aged people with my presence. They were visiting for something, and everything was even more carefully spotless than usual. They were coming in through the front door, and I was nervous and excited in the kitchen. I wanted to wait for proper manners to be let in, but I somehow knew they wouldn't let me in. And I was sure that me meeting them that day was the most important connection that would be made that day. I feel sure I'd met them before, but this would be the only lasting memory I was going to be able to keep. I was not going to let it go by. I rounded that house and went into the living room with the conviction that I NEEDED to burn every detail I could into my brain for my future self. They walked into the room, and the gold of the sunlight and the red curtains, and the overhead light was on too, so it was some very well lit sunny room. They were well lit from above and backlit enough to glow, and the squeak of the door, and the sound of a screen door, and them in the room, and me running in and out of that room, trying to stay as close to them as I could get away with. As close as my courage would let me. It broke my heart to have to wait a whole room away and watch them from the dining room. I tried to listen. I wanted to spend the time touching them some how. But I barely did. I don't even remember getting eye contact. But the way they looked, and the way the rest of the people made them so important, that I remember. Her hair like a halo or a cloud. The way they stood and sat together. His hard face. The gold and red and brightness of the room. The distinct upsetting feeling like I should cry for all the bits and pieces of this memory I was not going to keep. The unraveling darkness at the edges of my mind. That's what I kept.

The next memory I have of my Great Grandfather, is going with my Grandfather to see his dad in the nursing home. It was actually something we did a number of times, but they all blend together and I only really retain now the one experience, and the feeling like it was neither the first time, nor the last. We went up a windy flight of stairs to get to a door with the knob all the way at the top of the door. This scared me a bit, knowing I would have no way to get out. That door was solid, and that knob was scary high up. And it didn't look like normal doorknobs. I could reach it if I was lifted up. But not by myself. I would be trapped in there once I was in there. And I was only vaguely aware that it was designed to keep the infirm residents from reaching it either. They all seemed trapped and contained in their chairs or beds, or cots or whatever. My Great Grandfather was across the room around a corner in and alcove on a certain bed sort of thing, more like a cot really. And I wanted him to be loving and affectionate with me like my Grandfather was, and they resembled eachother enough that I thought he should be happy I was there. But he wasn't. Not really ever. He was scary to look at, and I was afraid to be in reach of him. I wanted to make my Grandfather happy, and to be with him, buy his Father was too much for me, and the only thing that kept me from bolting was knowing that I had no where to go. The knob was too high. I was sad for not being able to be with him, but he was not nice at all. I was surrounded by trapped helpless prisoners locked in chairs and blankets and feeling like I was the center of all the attention in the room. I seem to think my mother took me to see him that way too, but I don't think it went any better.

Then I remember seeing each of them in their respective boxes. I'm not even sure of the memories beyond looking for them there. I didn't see them. I saw objects that looked like them, but it was surprising how others could see the person they knew in the objects in front of me. Bodies have never looked like people to me. I saw them more in the faces of the people who looked for them, and around the room. I was neither scared by them, nor did the sight make me any more interested to cry.

And now I superimpose the first time I saw my daughter make eye contact with me across the room. Those angry little black eyes, searching for me as if to say, "What the hell, dad?" Blood and crud all over her head and tiny body. Doctors waving and whisking her through the room to clean her up and give her to me. How she cried at first, but seemed to listen to and respect my assurances, and how she slept on my chest almost immediately.

How Owen had still looked a little alive to me, and I held his body and turned his fingers in my hands. Arranging his face in front of me. The sickening of helplessness.

And how Morgan wasn't going to stop crying no matter how surely I told him it was okay. And how I was just happy he could cry. A fact I still remind myself of some times to get through the nights. Less and less, though. I miss it when it doesn't happen most nights.

I can see all these things with equal clarity, and at the same time. They connect for me. It makes me incredibly angry that I only have one good memory of my father/donor as well. I got home from school, and I barely got a look at his balding head and face. I went to my room to wait for my mother to finish talking to him, and once again, to be introduced properly. Part of me knew then too. I should never have left to room. He could walk by me, and I couldn't tell you. Not that I want a relationship with him on any real level. But I wanted to be able to spot the coward walking by. And I am incredibly grateful that my own children will never have to wonder about me that way.

But back to my original thread. How do these things string together? What is the purpose of this simulation? Why would anyone need to study this? Is this your idea of a game, son? I find it all hard to believe either way.
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Anyway.
I am finding my inner lonely again which is good and bad. It means things are slowing down enough for me to breath and try to remember my name. It also means I am going to find a way to manage this realization that my name is almost entirely gone.
I tried to do some simple math conversions today, and I had to speak them out loud to remember how to do them.
I don't think I remember how to play my violin. I certainly don't think I could read music anymore.
My daughter insists on playing her radio all night long every night. Magic 98. Yeah, its like that. I know them all. I can't even cry about it anymore.
I keep having this overwhelming urge to get up and go home. I'm sitting in my living room. I'm not sure where I think home is.
On the better side, I have continued to have thorough success with lucid dreaming. I'm generally not retaining anything of them when I wake, but I distinctly recall a state of awareness and control most days when I wake up. Naturally, that fades shortly thereafter.
I am also enjoying my slow shift back to insomnia lately. I need to channel this into writing or something. Or surround myself with sleepless friends.
I keep thinking in terms of obscure song references that no one will recognize.
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you are darkcyan
#008B8B

Your dominant hues are green and blue. You're smart and you know it, and want to use your power to help people and relate to others. Even though you tend to battle with yourself, you solve other people's conflicts well.

Your saturation level is very high - you are all about getting things done. The world may think you work too hard but you have a lot to show for it, and it keeps you going. You shouldn't be afraid to lead people, because if you're doing it, it'll be done right.

Your outlook on life can be bright or dark, depending on the situation. You are flexible and see things objectively.
the spacefem.com html color quiz
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My Live Journal posts shall now appear on my facebook as well. Who knew?
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In fact, I really wish I had time to post a thing today. We will have to settle with this, because I have no time.
Current Mood:
blank none
Current Music:
some damn country thing
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My daughter has officially had her first experience getting stuck in a tree.
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First let me specify how I discovered Foxy Veronica, and her Peach Pies. As is typical, I was online late one night researching some random thing that I thought might pertain to Rocky Horror, and a tangent lead to a tangent, and lead to a "holy shit, I went to highschool with her!" I landed upon an interview with some like I care, and the resulting info drop on this person was, well, nice. I was then inspired to Google Foxy Veronica and see what I came up with. I found both a My Space page, and a Facebook page. And I added this to the growing pile of reasons I ought to join Facebook. I'm not going to post a link, look it up yourself.

Just a few minutes ago, I arrived home, and I want to tell people about the show tonight at the Inferno before I lose track of my brain again. The opening act was some casual garage band called Level Down. I didn't mind them at all, though I got the distinct impression from the singer that he was trying to interact with the audience by his tone and gestures. Unfortunately the sound was a bit muddy, and he had the mic too far down his throat to articulate clearly on any consistent basis. Some parts were clearer than others. The drums were loud and the guitar was right on. But all together, they need to work on their mix.

On to the main show, Foxy and her, is troop the right word for burlesque? Anyway, they came on around 11:30, and they were done and I was home by 1 AM. But they were well worth it. Six gals and one guy doing a very stylize caburlesque ensemble. It was certainly a lot of your basic pump and circumstance, but it was done right. There was a mix of lip sync, and live singing. There were synchronized dancers, chair dancers, and a bit of rope bondage featuring Foxy herself. Foxy very much owned the stage, but also effortlessly shared it with the rest of the gang. I was a bit disappointed by the gender balance, especially as the one guy was a bit twinkish, but he was enthusiastic enough and it really wasn't his fault.
Overall, I am thinking I should make one of their upcoming shows a mandatory field trip for people who intend to continue or join with the Rocky cast. I learned tonight that they have a regular gig at the Inferno every second Thursday. Folks could learn a lot about passion and owning the stage, using the space you have, and honestly, dancing. I have already had some beginning conversations with Miss Veronica about putting our interests together for a future show, and will be following up on this in the very near future.

Here's pie in yer eye!
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If you could have any fictional creature from a book, film, or TV show as your pet, which one would you choose, and why?

I think I would either have a shoggoth, a la H P Lovecraft, or possibly the smoke monster from Lost. I just like the idea of a shapeshifting monster that could kill me.
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The sensations I have experienced today have lead me to extreme pain. I cannot give up hours at work, nor afford to be sick. On the plus side, there have been a number of drop in trainings today, and I have been able to get extra chair time by trying to learn, in a dark room, with a lecture style format, and a projector. In other words, I felt like highschool. I kept trying to not look like I was nodding off. Fortunately I was in the back row. Unfortunately there was only one row. Fortunately I was on the end of that row. Unfortunately I was closest to the door. And my legs/feet still hurt quite a bit. I'm taking my last break, and I'm too sore to convince myself it is worth walking around and finding food. So the triad of messages, Yahoo/Facebook/LJ. Fairly pointless. Twenty five minutes has not been enough. I do not have faith in the next five helping. Meanwhile, still no brain, or very little anyway. I had hoped to feel up to offering to work late tonight. As it is, I will be tempted to ask to go early. I'm already tempted. Damn money. Odd thing this computer. Every other computer I have ever known has recognized the failure to capitalize the word "I" as a misspelling. I had to notice all three times I did it myself. Correction, four times.
Current Mood:
cold none
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Unfortunately, dealing with those million things is consuming all my home time. And during my breaks at work, I usually have jut enough time to take care of my bodily needs, and then check my messages. I can usually respond to two or three of them. But not always. So I usually need to triage my needs, and way to much gets dropped.
Read more...Collapse )
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What animal best represents your inner spirit? If you had to wake up as an animal, which one would you choose, and why? Are your two answers the same? Why or why not?

The animal that best represents my inner spirit is a human. Its not a human, but if I had to pick an animal to represent it, that would be it.

As for waking up as an animal, I choose to wake up as a human every morning. It is better than the alternative.
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What's your favorite cult film of all time, and why? What are the essential ingredients for a cult classic?


Follow That Bird, definitely.

A good cult classic needs a strong definitive message, and also something subversive about it. There is no stronger message than the plight of an orphan, nevermind the already strong following of Sesame Street in general. And nothing is more subversive than teaching children to complain about authority.
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I have this thing where I put all my priorities into a grid in my mind. I have so many slots on each day based upon my work schedule, and my wife's work schedule, and my children's events, and I fill in every thing else around that. Its sort of like short hand in my computer brain thing. Anyway, I keep on putting together priorities and trying tio assign them days, and I roll my schedule off for a few weeks. Any more than two weeks and its really a chance die anyway, but I try. No luck. I have a long list of important things that I might as well cut off my arms, because I'm just never going to get to them. Anybody expecting to die soon, so I can steal your body and split my brain between the two of us? I could use the extra corpse about now.
Current Mood:
cold none
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Post two truths and a lie about yourself as an answer to Writer's Block. Have people guess which is the lie in the comments.


I have been paid by the government to have sex.
I have a deep and pervading feeling of hatred for the color yellow, to the point that too much yellow makes me feel sick.
I have for many years, I have aspired to write childrens' stories under the pen name B. E. Took.
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What’s the craziest thing you’ve done for love?


Got married.
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Dear Santa...

Dear Santa,

This year I've been busy!

Last week I had a shoot-out with rival gang lords on the 5 near LA (-76 points). Last Tuesday I helped tromatized hide a body (173 points). In May I set devianttouch's puppy on fire (-66 points). In September I got in line at the supermarket at the same time as someone else and I didn't yield (-8 points). In April parsnip_pixie and I robbed a bank (-50 points). Last week I committed genocide... Sorry about that, fuzzyinthehead (-5000 points).

Overall, I've been naughty (-5217 points). For Christmas I deserve an elder sign branded upon my forehead!

Sincerely,
Lantry

Write your letter to Santa! Enter your LJ username:
Current Mood:
cold none
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If you could hang out with any movie character for a day, whom would you choose as your sidekick?


Chuck Norris, obviously.
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How has the Internet evolved to meet your needs since you started using it?


It hasn't. It has evolved all of my relationships with others such that it has created new needs for me, rather than help me with needs I have or had. I got this LJ exactly because I could no longer stay in touch with certain people unless I was online. I now need my e-mail as well, when I never needed it before. I have many other similar needs, that I would probably rather do without.

I do appreciate that the internet has evolved to suit various wants. I can now look up old songs, games, and other media that I might have had trouble locating before, but I don't really need these things, and I would probably be better off if there wasn't such easy access to so many potential time sinks.
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All the things I want to do are getting in each other's way. I have too many interests, and all of them are important to me in the extreme. Each one is a very important part of my self image. And before all of them, I have to put my home and my family. I just don't have enough back burners. And I don't really feel like anyone else is there to fall back on and help me. I don't seem to have anyone to talk to about it. And no one else seems really interested my my plans or my ideas. So I have been trying to be the rugged individualist about it all, but in the end, I feel like it isn't even worth pursuing any of it, because in the end, no one will appreciate what I've done except me. So I think about abandoning some, or all even. But I have no ability to prioritize any of it, both because it is all so important to me, and also because it all seems equally fruitless. And then I have to account for who I would be without all these things and interests. I don't think I could survive the change. I mean there might be a husk walking around pretending my life, but I would be pretty much gone. And without all these things I love so much, I have nothing that I love to share with my kids. And frankly, my kids are priority. So, I can't really drop any of it. I need to be me, for my kids. But how? And sadly, I think the longer these parts of me remain unattended, the less they are really me any more. I am already dying.
Current Mood:
cold none
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I am enjoying a nice slice of pie and a hot cup of tea, both of which I acquired free in the break room here at work. I am now quite a bit warmer. With two and a half hours left at work, I am really disappointed that I cannot just go sleep now. The warmth will be gone by the time I get home, and I'll be awake again. Bah.
Current Mood:
cold none
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I was previously aware that my wife had a habit of enjoying Youtube videos with my children. I was also aware that she was making a point of exploring old songs that shaped her youth, mostly eighties. I was unaware that my son had developed favorites.

While I was loading the dishwasher, they were dancing around the house. And clear as a bell, "Love shack. Yeah yeah yeah."

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What computer accessories and peripherals can't you live without?

Keyboard, monitor, . . . hmmm, maybe the mouse?
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All of August stretches before us today—what is your prediction for this month's weirdest or most unexpected news story?

Based upon a dream I had a few days ago.

I predict some kind of civil war to be initiated within the United States. It will be initiated by some conglomerate of rightwing extremists, and be largely motivated by fascist ideals and laced heavily with racism. The first attack will be a coordinated attack on many major cities simultaneously, including state capitols and major trade ports. This attack will begin as a series of coordinated car crashes on every major street within the city, effectively blocking all traffic and creating a significant amount of chaos. It will be combined with riflemen who will scout the streets around the accident sites and then circle outward targeting anyone outside their profile of what makes a good American.

I hope I'm wrong, and that it was just a crazy dream.
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What vacations would you most like to take in the next five years?

Stay home from work for a whole day and not need to clean up after anyone else at all . . . for the whole day.
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What do you want your last meal to be?


The Sun.
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