dreamweaver three

hmm...14 July 2025.
i dedicated June to not much at all -
it felt as if i had wroted a novel
instead of dream notes...i kept
wondering over the puzzle of the
last penned dream herein...it
was too vivid, maybe too much...
i only knew that i had to end
the notes there in order to
start over...it was an estimated
three hundred pages if double spaced -
well, i've put those away and here
goes...monday, daria called her
puppy her soulmate...i felt in
a daze...on the fifth of july,
i happend to see a picture of
two friends, children...i kept
wishing i hadnt seen it, but
even as cut off as i am from
most folks and i suppose even
some of my own emotions, that
scene really got to me...
i was in the middle of writing
some new songs and wrote four
verses...the fourth was left out
when it came to recording -
it took a couple of days to settle
into it...when i finally escaped
noisy distractions, the sudden phone
calls insisting on either hanging up or
pointless trivia, the strange hound
seemingly in search of boy-vagina,
and an insane argument about the beach...
(what else could it be except madness when
i have no inclination or desire to sit in the sun)
oh yes and the bizarre 'no input' mystery
which i suppose is all part of the process, like
pound might say...
indeed, when i finally escaped
nothing mattered but the work at hand...i called
it 'the fifth of july' and put it out for release
with these lyrics;

I KNEW LILA WAS DEAD
- HOPED ELOISE WOULD SURVIVE;
SHE LOVED HER PUPPY DOG,
SHE HADNT EVER BEEN WED.

A HOUSE DANCED
ON A RIVER'S SONG AS IT PLAYED
LONE STAR STATE OF TEXAS
YEAH SOMEHOW STAYED...

I COULDNT TELL HANNAH AND REBECCA APART
- THEY WERE TWINS LIKE
FLOWERS IN A FIELD'S GARDEN
- IT'D BEEN THAT WAY RIGHT FROM THE START

A HOUSE DANCED
UPON A RIVER
(A RIVER'S SONG AS IT PLAYED)
LONE STAR STATE OF TEXAS
WE SOMEHOW STAYED...

LITTLE BLAIR COULDNT UNDERSTAND
- SHE WEPT SHE CRIED;
LITTLE BROOKE COVERED HER
SAYING COME ON GIRL HOLD MY HAND

A HOUSE DANCED
UPON A RIVER'S SONG AS IT PLAYED
LONE STAR STATE OF TEXAS
WE SOMEHOW STAYED...

A HOUSE DANCED
UPON A RIVER
(A RIVER'S SONG AS IT PLAYED)
LONE STAR STATE OF TEXAS
WE SOMEHOW STAYED...

i'd put placed all four verses on vsco from
handwritten notes photographed along with the chords
which remained the same...save for an added note
musical note.
as i glance through recollections, wondering why julia
mecey and joey king enjoy love island, wondering if
charles bukowski actually dropped a man at the race track
as in the italic section of factum or even why sylvia
plath's ghost doesnt haunt the hell out of matt haig...
i remember that night, the fourth of july...
i dreamt something like a bridge or a dam where the water
was red, crimson, but in that nearly dried blood brown color
and i couldn't see where i was but i saw a man holding a shotgun
and he did not move or speak, the motionless image against the
waves were etched in my mind the following day...i thought it
was about a guitar that had been slow to arrive and that
possibly it had suffered in transit yet by the time i went to
sleep again it felt revealed...well, decyphered...neither spirit
nor worry could save these lives from the devastation waltz
winding its way in what they call flash flood alley...
i was certain it was william s burroughs, a man who knew
about loss in an intimate way...aside from the wife, his only
son had perished and even in the afterlife i suppose some
emotions keep, all you can do is stand there and bear witness
i learned also that gabrielle's mother and my own share
a birthdate as it were...
i don't want to write anymore about these things as in
typing i might not reflect how much i felt and much less
how it all still hurts and will continue to hurt so many...
so i re-order that guitar and continue to wait...
i have a few dreams to jot, but those will be done
at some other point in time when i can turn my minimalist
writing into an even more concise style so as to not end
up with a book-length manuscript that might only serve
self-references...


16 july 2025

i consider yesterday notable even if i don't
fully examine it here...
learning another side of the camp story...
what was her name, hayden...well she spoke
kinda like how i speak...
the second axe was shipped on the 11th
and arrived on the 15th
it felt as if my writing had manifested it...
reminds me of the telecaster except it
has a decided rock and roll tone
(no single coil pick ups)
i decorated it while listening to mustang sally
for a minute, everything else took a back seat
meaning it was thrilling...
i'm thinking now of a dream i had in may
i'd been with lotta in my old apartment
she kissed me and it was magical
we lay there talking about what the next meal
should be when a man with gun started shooting
at me and i ran into another room
there is a bookend dream to this scene which
i will jot later...
she's watching the summer i turned pretty
which i looked at but found revolting
i'm wearing a snake ring on my middle finger
instead of my stainless steel spoon since
some sort of rust invaded it...
anyway i awoke with a racing heart and
the realization of how much she means to me
hmm...when i said not much in june i meant movies too
although i did watch most of the secret life
of the american teenager
well, this was more than i intended to note...
let's leave it at that - for now -
here are two outtakes of the song i mentioned
i had the intent to adjust my release for one of
these but i couldn't figure out how to do that
and i am aware that this sort of takes the
expectation away from the single but i want
to share these as a way of saying it is
not about streams or whatever, it is what it is.




the fifth, second alternate- two skinny girls...

the fifth, alternate- two skinny girls...


17july2025

correction, the mustang only sounded like that through the boss amp...at the fender, it was much nicer...yes i was fender-reluctant, but since i don't much use pedals, the champ amp was only logical...as for the guitar, i kept hearing a line from blind willie mctell when i would go window shopping for axes until finally i didn't want to be haunted by it... it is a step up from the ancient mustang i had which hardly ever stayed in tune but it is not for big hands, even mine feel it to be a task going up the fret as if i had to abbreviate my fingers which is the exact opposite of the jackson wherein my hands sense and appropiate the space... at least i feel a sort of bulgari vibe with my new ring...still, all this goes against my attempt at brevity and i have yet to jot the dream note...hmm, notes.. connie francis died and her song had recently become a hit again...even a parody emerged, "you can touch my pussy..." which might have been the cause of her demise...but many several poets also passed away and i had the evil urge to make a list of all the writers that had perished after 'the tortured poets depart-ment' hmm...but what really worries me is the grammar when gender is made illogical- andrea is called 'they' instead of she - here is quote/example: "Their father, Mark, worked for a post office and their mother, Shirley, was a secretary at a technical college. They have one sister, Laura." this plural form makes language more of a virus than it needs to be, indeed and why? where was i...ah yeah, i find lately that i go to sleep only to awake an hour or so later simply to wander around in confusion...that was the case last night, but first the bookend thing; i had walked into a shop with julia and told her to get something to drink, there were only cans of coors in the fridge... we walked out and there and then several men harassed us, one of them with a stick that knocked the hat off my head...it had been a goodly time until then...weeks later i learned that she had lost her red baseball cap - cut to yesterady, i'm in the bath and the bath is overflowing, i am trying without luck to shut off the water as somehow there are more knobs than i care to count, i say the words julia help but as i do i find the right knob then we are on a bed where a cat climbs up, i remark that it is not skirt and i think of hedwig who it resembles but as a kitten - the cat speaks and i wonder if we have all gone crazy...i awake and can't get back to sleep until half a pack of cigarettes and coffee argue with melatonin...i kept seeing romy mars although i only 'met' her at some far away chanel thing... i like her especially since she positively proves my point that sofia was and is pretty...the only thing is it makes mayhem of my fantasy life... love her ego song - so catchy... she had a bad scene at some hotel, in my dream which i thought was about michael madsen, another poet, i was in the elevator trying to get to the twenty ninth floor - there was no 29 button, someone pressed all the buttons and i got out on seventeen determined to navigate the stairs - 1920s elegance surrounded me, someone with a glass case of coins, collectables, and aritfacts was set up like a cigarette girl might be and i stopped for a glance there and then noticing a man seemingly having a heart attack nearby, i kept walking after thinking about it all for a minute - as i contemplate it now it was like the waldorf astoria...a minute ago having a grand re-birth...i'd been there once upon a late night frenzy...but i don't remember any stairs...not even much walking as yellow cabs did the work...miss morin was at the chelsea hotel, i took a peek at how upscale 23rd street is now...i think it's where i bought that other mustang...i think it's still there unlike music row on 48th...anyway, yes poets are supposed to die like everyone else while a few songs and verses live on but is it time to advocate for protection of the scribes... well, i dunno, but if someone whats to protect me - please do but get Daria safe before that...


3 aug

not sure what to call this...an update? an explanation...well whatever it is, the thing is that last month i decided to make these notes wait until the song was released, which i expected to be a matter of days or a week... there are several many dreams on the backlog... but maybe this will help me make it all more concise...still, i don't want anyone thinking that i have been putting the dreamweaver page on the backburner...on the offchance that new visitors arrive or that i have upset followers, i am put-placing the earlier notes back in some sort of extra html box...meanwhile, i still expect the track to be released any minute now...i am reading charlotte bronte's villete, i had more of a party than i expected with charles bukowski's hollywood...nearly as lavish as pulp, now i am in the middle of a cheesy slasher ride called graduation day - this after viewing red sun and wondering who would find the sword left hanging there on the train wires...i think i have entered into the veritas guitar giveaway and i will be beside myself if i happen to win - hmm i was thinking about love letters from a portuguese nun as i wondered why it had such an impact on me...i couldn't figure it out, as i looked at it again everyone seemed to differ from my recollection but i saw why or partly why kia attracted me...there is a similarity between her and susan hemingway...it was then that robyn disappeared and i viewed ballerina which i felt was too much into developing the backstory and training only to be clumsy but it came through in the end with some help from keanu and a flamethrower...being maria was extremely hard to get through, as i think highly of LTIP yet this never gives you a way to care for ms schneider - the element of spoiled brat never leaves...despite the stories, she and brando remained friends although it is true that the same cannot be said for bertolucci - you see there is no way to win, obviously i can't dismiss a woman's suffering but i cannot badmouth bertolucci as the only director that ever mailed me directly as if i were on his level...well, some situations have no distinct resolution...let's see i also took a look at meghan 2.0 but the wonder of the first has worn off in this sequel - didn't they see the fabulous potential of the opening story with an ai model gone beserk... dude, that was the movie and then end it with the promise of meghan being re-built for a third film...well, it didnt leave a bad taste yet mostly that's the way i saw it...like they threw everything at the audience hoping something would stick...finally, cold sweat was all right but here too they purposely posed the little girl to give men upskirt panty shots...no reason at all unless there is something about bastille day they haven't told me... yeah, dream notes will return when the song is out.

9 august 2025 the fifth of july was released on the eighth of august, i was immersed in establishing a balance in terms of of music software that is to say uninstalling this and installing that...mostly this involved native instruments...it felt as if had been suddenly rewarded for my efforts which was an all nighter that went past noon given that the second laptop requested an update that was slow and resulted in me foolishly deleting the onedrive documents folder which turned out to be the actual and only document container...it wasnt in the live trash to restore and it seems to have took the restore points too...so there was the matter to checklist the missing things and get as many back as possible except i don't know what was there exactly or why it took up so much space since i only use that for music - reminds me to double check if anything else needs to be put placed therein again...in any case, i felt good and sensed it as a turning point although part of me wished to go back to typewriters and tape recorders...in my dream there was some sort of discussion, could some beds be countries...the other afternoon i awoke to a vision of a chinese letter or note which dissolved into dots as if translated morse code...i say it is a vision since it was there at the moment i awoke and vanished while i got up - daria returned from sicily and wore a revealing red dress, i was pretty surprised when she said she was switching schools as she counted her shoes...i freaked out over julia presenting her neighbor as a best friend while worried that it would in turn give my own next door upstairs or downstairs an entrance... ironically i have never felt so attracted to the other julia... well lets get irony out of the way - lotta said she broke up with someone that she had gone to mallorca and taken home... i hesitate to spell out my suspicion that is was her manager, but it is only logical to consider being that she specificied him as a companion during her first trip to france...i sensed it then but there may be more to the story than meets the eye and it is nobody's business, i only mention it in passing to show myself how foolish i can still be...but what will i do with these feelings and these memorized imprints within the mind's eye...germany suspends military aid to israel...alaska takes center stage...i realize that having a lot of guitars also brings the dilemma of which one to play...agency heads perish, stella then william, for a minute, as i glanced at writings and songs i thought to myself i've overdone it, i've taken on too much...yet it is an age of excess, is it not? i'm nearing chapter twenty of villette and i like it thus far - i started to view harvest yet i realized that i was too distracted and tired and hopefully can give it the attention it deserves today...i'm happy to return here for these erratic notes and i have a hell of ghost story for you next time...

18/08

i do not feel myself to be a stranger to ghosts...at least not in dreams...i have felt their visits like angels on parole from heaven's jail...here you go, take a few minutes for the living...ever since i started writing i thought of the words are we dead that live to tell, i thought also of fame is the sun that shines on the dead, well i thought of many things but these in relation to that...in any case, it's nothing i can prove, what proof is there within the unconsciousness...only the shadows within memory...in the case of my uncle, i would amend the statement to be from hell's confines or perhpas via purgatory's expiation, do a good deed and we'll let you go home, as it were... i don't think the church kept that middle ground it's weird that it comes to mind on the heels of the hand of dante, who ofcourse included it in his divine comedy - where was i well i was stopped thrice at returning here, first the subject matter - in this occasion it wasnt a member of the family, it was someone i employed...i saw him for the last time on the street, circa 108 or 109 broadway, he remarked about my countenance as if surprised, i didn't know what to say and said it was plastic surgery - in fact thinking of Elvis who i had heard say to get it early so it wouldnt have to be so drastic et cetera... listening to undescribably blue a dozen times yesterday after the anniversary of his death...he'd gotten a bit crude in a car as the documentary rolled, i think now, so somehow this all fits together as in the dream it was a car, the centerpiece was a car - unlike my dream last night of leah telling me we were friends and then awaking to think it was bentley whi i had suggested be considered to play sinead although she is neither an actor or singer yet you can't look at her and not see the resemblance once it's pointed out...in that dream i think he pointed at the car, i was with a girl, not sure who - he was with another, i put my girl in the back seat and got in the front seat - then he got into the driver's seat with his girl sort of upon him but they kept shifting and sexually so until he ejaculated on her face yet all the while looking at me in the end with some sort of cruel satisfaction i could not understand as i awoke...a precise memory of something he had told me led me to believe that it was a ghost, no imagination or product of mind, miller and aspirin, this was his recipe to last longer during intercourse...you load up on miller high life beer and get a couple of aspirin...subsequently i wondered if ghosts actually had sex in the afterlife, they never really frighten me and this was no different in that sense but it sure was intense and i sort of wish i knew what it meant... i thought about it briefly again while watching the very strange the night always comes...mazda madness...eddington shows us the madness created at the start of the pandemic - i recalled my argument that there was no logic to it, like prohibiting driving so there'd be no accidents... because even walking one might stumble and fall... ah yes, i was shocked to see walk hard the dewey cox story...but i will refrain from commentizing upon it - as i will remain silent on harvest, which is in a class of its own. now then, or secondly, i was stopped by the awful feeling of the delay fact...my spirits, high in expectation of a haul that should have been arriving, were brought down low as the package was sent out a week later than i thought...so all that won't be here until next week...look at my very own first world problem! and finally well thirdly, i was stopped by the insight in a passage within villete, i imagine very few people will comprehend but it contains a severe truth and that along with the fact that the novel might have peaked in the middle gave me pause; yes i know it is a long passage, but i must put-place it here so as to have it available... from chapter 24; "Those who live in retirement, whose lives have fallen amid the seclusion of schools or of other walled-in and guarded dwellings, are liable to be suddenly and for a long while dropped out of the memory of their friends, the denizens of a freer world. Unaccountably, perhaps, and close upon some space of unusually frequent intercourse⁠—some congeries of rather exciting little circumstances, whose natural sequel would rather seem to be the quickening than the suspension of communication⁠—there falls a stilly pause, a wordless silence, a long blank of oblivion. Unbroken always is this blank; alike entire and unexplained. The letter, the message once frequent, are cut off; the visit, formerly periodical, ceases to occur; the book, paper, or other token that indicated remembrance, comes no more. Always there are excellent reasons for these lapses, if the hermit but knew them. Though he is stagnant in his cell, his connections without are whirling in the very vortex of life. That void interval which passes for him so slowly that the very clocks seem at a stand, and the wingless hours plod by in the likeness of tired tramps prone to rest at milestones⁠—that same interval, perhaps, teems with events, and pants with hurry for his friends. The hermit⁠—if he be a sensible hermit⁠—will swallow his own thoughts, and lock up his own emotions during these weeks of inward winter. He will know that Destiny designed him to imitate, on occasion, the dormouse, and he will be conformable: make a tidy ball of himself, creep into a hole of life’s wall, and submit decently to the drift which blows in and soon blocks him up, preserving him in ice for the season. Let him say, “It is quite right: it ought to be so, since so it is.” And, perhaps, one day his snow-sepulchre will open, spring’s softness will return, the sun and south-wind will reach him; the budding of hedges, and carolling of birds, and singing of liberated streams, will call him to kindly resurrection. Perhaps this may be the case, perhaps not: the frost may get into his heart and never thaw more; when spring comes, a crow or a pie may pick out of the wall only his dormouse-bones. Well, even in that case, all will be right: it is to be supposed he knew from the first he was mortal, and must one day go the way of all flesh, “As well soon as syne.” Following that eventful evening at the theatre, came for me seven weeks as bare as seven sheets of blank paper: no word was written on one of them; not a visit, not a token. About the middle of that time I entertained fancies that something had happened to my friends at La Terrasse. The mid-blank is always a beclouded point for the solitary: his nerves ache with the strain of long expectancy; the doubts hitherto repelled gather now to a mass and⁠—strong in accumulation⁠—roll back upon him with a force which savours of vindictiveness. Night, too, becomes an unkindly time, and sleep and his nature cannot agree: strange starts and struggles harass his couch; the sinister band of bad dreams, with horror of calamity, and sick dread of entire desertion at their head, join the league against him. Poor wretch! He does his best to bear up, but he is a poor, pallid, wasting wretch, despite that best."

19/8/2025

well, yes these are the lyrics to nobody knows you when you're down and out - which is possibly a point charlotte missed...but there were no blues back then... still, to think she could - by turning her character into a man with poetic intersections describing a solitary existence - conjure those emotions by put-placing seven weeks as the timeline...herself, always surrounded by others and eventually even married, was not intimate with loneliness in the sense of lacking company...still, like the words in i'm just a gigolo, there's something to it, you might agree...i certainly do, having spent much more time than seven weeks without companionship...my point is then what would she pen if she imagined it to be seven months, or years... in my dream helena is in an involved conversation...i'm hearing her yet i am not sure if i am there with her or not...the only way i can describe it is to say i had no peripheral vision, my eyes were locked in looking ahead into nothing specific or a specific nothingness...an abstraction - she was speaking of legacy as if a time travel spy, for a minute i thought it was to let me know what would become of my writing but i was either too horny or more likely sure that it would be just like it should and didn't want a fortune teller as it were...i should interrupt myself and interject briefly on how once in a while women will contact me -usually to join a dating site, or more frequently with a provocative photo and a note stating how they need or want this or that in random succession, spam as it were that i barely glance of or take notice, less frequently it is an actual letter with convoluted details form european women intent on what they call a serious relationship, then there are a few requests to chat...since these are few i do answer as i sometimes politely turn down the others...early in the month a woman named mary started to message. it was, to my surprise, nearly normal with none of the usual weirdness that i have pointed to here - of course this was balanced by her wanting me to invest in future trading...still it all felt friendly and maybe well intentioned until i noticed her reluctance to be 'seen' in terms of me posting her picture...and when her voice didnt match her features, she claimed she had lived overseas when young and so on and so forth - well i suppose i will never know as she then disappeared for a while only to return for a final confrontation in which she turned logic on its very head by deleting the thread and calling me an extreme pervert! a good title for something i suppose, now i don't know what she meant but i am positive she was hiding something...i was talking about hair styles and shaved heads...still it brought the lonesome side of things into focus...so i'm saying to myself, am i even able to have a conversation with someone else...can i even afford a friend...but worse, and i don't like to admit it, is it now so settled in me, this luxury this freedom of being by myself that i cannot in a sense share in terms of companionship. i seem to be able to do so with my cat and my guitars yet i don't know. my one concern is that by divulging or declassifying such notions, is that it will sound as if a protest. it ain't, it's merely a fact with a bit of an opinion that is maybe grounding its roots or being pulled from its place to be replanted on more solid land.

twenty august


on of the last times i turned on my television was to gawk at would be the next to last mission impossible film - gee that was an awful good time...so i had some expectations with the conclusion of this series...after setting up the sony, i settled in to it...however i found i had no way of pausing due to the cable remote being for functions unralted to the usb drive and the natural remote itself unresponsive to new batteries and slaps...already it was a mission in itself as i then downloaded andraid apps that all failed since lacking the ir blaster as they call it...giving up an turning to one of the laptops, i found a much clearer picture, at least...but i was a bit distracted given the aforementioned runaround - and then the underwater scenes battled with james bond scenes in memory as did the high flying sequences near the end find themselves contrasted with hell's angels - i mean i knew i was looking at very rare and special cinema history but films for me an experience that require a preset disposition, that is to say simply the agreement within one;s self to go watch a movie...in fact my idea was the opposite as i wanted to finish up villette, yet sensing opportunity well...let us say i did not like it as much as the other one yet there is no doubt that it is awe inspiring. it also bitter sweet, as nothing in production will wield such raw power for an incredible cross section of people...in any casem does one buy a new remote or overhaul the equipment entirely... in my dream, i am sitting with some girls, it is a restaurant, a rare dream for me...but i am sitting there like a thief planning on how to carry all the things i plan to steal... i got up at midnight, feeling weird over it and not even sure where it was or who they were...in the mary timeline, i will have you know, there was another catfish, i say this now certain of who the actual woman in the photo is... someone named rose, who must be insane or intent on making me feel as if crazed...no need to extend the story as it might serve itself better in terms of fiction...no way it could be poetry...i went to sleep for a few more hours hoping i would catch my new contact in hong kong before nightfall...you know, the twelve hour time zone difference - speaking of hours, i'm only a few away from concluding villette, at dawn i cooked rice and made the chicken peppery with onion, lime, and olive oil. the meal brought a drowsy sensation i fought off not wanting to spoil the gains i made in terms of my desired schedule. i hesitated through coffee and cigarettes yet jotted these words hoping to get even more done in the sense of recording or mixing music for production.

21 august 2025


THE SUMMER WITHOUT POETRY

nothing beats a jet two holiday echo until the eagle has landed revved up crowds with sydney jeans when her sammy davis movie wrapped we can look back at the irony later antlers and moose meat alaska summit sees leaders greet night witch spirit polina gelman i filter it through awake on my airplane nightmare six thousand words added to dictionary database is darfur a rumor? how many roads can a man walk down talk up war jamat mali balochistan pakistan itself a rhyme civil war so-mali a-gain ukraine gaza gang war in haiti boko haram lebanese eternity itself attacked by houthi, houdini-like magic boats sink... the heat it even stinks of smoke from wildfires, the heatwave hits my ass as i sit - a donkey packed with a bomb booms colombia, nigeria worse did we mention myanmar, yemeni, yeah man it's too many it's too much kamchatka nasa looks to see if we can go to mars rightaway new peoples liberation army wouldn't be what you expect philippines las navas no relation to las vegas much less la vega...mai mai republic of congo hey hey rock and roll is here to stay...no i don't know all these chords and i don't think i wish or want to...would you? someone started sex video pizza sales and i study the matter lamenting the once upon time innocent and nearly universal word, brooke's husband sells pizza, hell, she even got a slice tattoo on her arm...simultaneously i finally understand the term catfishing - i know i should prolly not speak into the unknown yet something within requires interaction - except in my dream i am packing up, not from the plantation but aunt's gone old house, i clearly see my plaid pierre cardin cotton robe and grab it heading down the stairs only to find two chained dogs fiercely barking on the right side and then a solitary puppy perhaps like winnie hey leah didnt say if it was marymount my old school except with one eye closed or missing itself in a fright myself estimating the space to slip through this canine puzzle, but i awake before i can make sense of it all - it's marie anne's day, a lot of this happened last month yet a lot of it is still going on...i told julia that i loved her for saying she would rather suck the toes of a man that hadn't washed his feet in ahundred days than watch some summer i turned pretty scene...conrad murray was the michael jackson doctor, i come across the five's abc...there was nothing like it until hanson's mmmbop, i'm at all the bebop scales on my shirley flying v - still an inertia zen settles in as if we were all meant to doom scroll for free, well maybe it is freedom, liberty herself went to denmark after returning from saint tropez from denmark itself via england... i feel i have known amaryllis without meeting her and in amarillo burl 'bj' jackson chester died possibly from team conrad syndrome - i've been riffing on get behind the mule and killed it yesterday...white stratocaster that gave me hell, go ahead brag, go ahead rave... now i don't think ozzy osbourne is going to be nominated or made a saint, despite what lucy snow thinks about the catholic church, i tell mother protestantism is in the blood, but i didn't say anything about him and sort of want to sort it out here and now as a conclusion to prose-poem shock news shavings, there was a minute wherein nothing else was on, a final concert that really was saintly and an army of guitarists picking on momma i'm coming home, someone postulated that it was a zeitgeist! myself, i was puzzled. i thought of the scene wherein he pissed by the pool and dropped down to lick the tiles, this ain't saying i didn't like the man - i did, i only felt that the hype was indeed somehow out of tune...too much or not enough? i can't say, it's the emotion i suppose that one might encounter if most of us looked the other way while the war pigs went about their business, by the way, it's a protest song in the folk sense...now you might ask what i think it should have been like or expected...i reckon something more underground, something in keeping with his persona or style...who the fuck is justin bieber, the wynn hotel is asking...yeah, something that didnt parade in a procession so heavy that it hardly left a trace...or did everyone hail satan as if not knowing shit about fuck... have i got too vulgar, good he would have enjoyed that, a twenty something couple having condomed sex decide to go for a get pregnant try and proceed to turn the rubber inside out after ejaculation as the romp continues or perhaps it was Jesus gone insane from prayers to john michael osbourne, rest in metal. meanwhile we have not found cile steward, her mother, with the strength of God, voiced her sorrow in a solemn attempt to make the world safer for other children in the future... i dedicate whatever this might be to cece, i demand that senate bill one be put into action... i decline the silence for now and so have here said... (for a second there i wish i had been the candy man instead, separating the sorrow and collecting all the cream, of course that entertainer was a card carrying member of the church of satan, not the deranged seeing eye bitch hound in everything is illuminated)

23 august 2025
i came to the end of villette and therein knew i was right, the quoted passage was the peak, in a sense, it foreshadows the possibly solitary life to come after the sails encountered a storm... i awoke very early - too early - i knew i had not rested although surely i had slept a few hours...only a few, i always think of soraya on this date...i raced through some likes on her instagram as if to say hey - i didn;t really enjoy f-1 the movie...i even thought, no wonder apple tv is raising its price, the soundtrack alone must have cost a fortune...and yet it fades out with a mediocre ed sheerhan tune...let me not argue about it - obviously some people like his thing... my point is the shifting perspective used to film the laps did not make sense to me...i also did not like ferrari, but for contrast you can feel the quality is higher especially in the stranger killing crash scene...anyway, we are behind the car, then in front of the car, but also sometimes on the side of it...dizzying and if like me you are not a fan of the sport - well...it makes it a struggle... i regret to report, as i searched for what to read next, leaning into the tenant of wildfell hall, so as to have experienced all three of the bronte sister's writing albeit i believe wuthering heights to be the bee's knees, i thought of london rules, which i excitedly read in vigil for the arrival of a new season of slow horses...i thought if charlotte were writing today this would be her type of romp, hmm perhaps without the political commentary, herron goes out of his way to have a giggle at trump's expense, but there is hardly a mention of leaders in villette, well napoleon as a point of reference or description... in any case i have decided what to read next, although i am most likely going to view einee meniee...in my dream i was in the lobby of where i used to live once upon a time, about to check the mail, i looked at the key, it now had to be slid in sideways, as opposed to straight in...as if to reflect my thoughts before going to sleep - people i don't especially like showed up - i awoke weirded out - who knows why this happens and who knows why my thoughts turn to women once in recent while as if camping i am certain want nothing to do with me...like is it a message, or is it merely a mess? i scrambled eggs and then started the day again near noon...it's an unusal day as did dishes and even cooked again, yet i am waiting a while before settling into the meal. oh yeah and the movie...

24/8/2025
so the movie, not terribly good, had, i felt, car sequences that somehow surpassed the F-1 scenes... still, i can only imagine they made that thinking it would be some sort of shocking treat but the sad part is none of it stands the test of time, (someone asked chatgpt to count to a million) and i am writing this mere hours after watching it! sure i remember and can recall it, but not in the sweet way that happens when cinema rises to its potential without gimmicks...(the ai refused, several times) i want to express my admiration for brad pitt so my previous thoughts are not taken as a stance against him...this was jack conrad, after all, not to mention being the producer of mickey 17, anyway let's hang our hopes on cliff booth...both my dreams were weird, i finally sort of met another gemma, well a third if we are counting ward, and she, not the heir or the model, were in my dream yet in some vague fashion i cannot pinpoint - it crawled through the day, i remember standing in the shower thinking, i am in arizona and nevada and london somehow...helena called her chickens baby dinosaurs...i was dealing with some other woman in my dream, she was handing me paperwork that needed to be filled out but then some disgruntled man switched places with her and i stood at the counter trying to ask about the last two forms...there were paragraph length questions, i wanted to know where i was supposed to write the answers...i suppose this was an improvement on the baffling situation with savannah...i liked her, i think she didnt like me yet overwhelmed thought's vision as if it had all been reversed within me - which might help to explain part of yesterday;s note...it was getting hot as i awoke today, there in the sauna type humid chamber which i cannot fathom since i long ago covered the windows against the sun...so middle night get up feeling a severe twist at left calf like a sprain or swimming cramp...i sit up and it;s gone, i lay back down but no longer feel like staying in bed possibly sensing the mysteriously burning miasma...it's sunday, there was a song being wroted in my head or at least the repeated refrain of it insisting...years ago i wroted 'we are your limousine salesmen' it reminds me of that of course someone removed those pages from songbook as if now reflected in waking minutes - emily ann roberts, i find, had to get her martin and video letter the tune she was thinking of...flight to wisconsin...madison's a nice place, not as nice as madison avenue yet that is to be expected, no surprise, sunrise yet a few hours away as i speak to someone in hong kong, maybe victoria; name of land, ceded to England by China in 1842, from the Chinese hiang kiang, meaning good water; after the english queen. even in such a faraway, at such distances, i encounter the sensation of posers intent on masking themselves for the sabotage, making the entity in mission impossible more likely than i would care to admit - is it others i do not trust or myself...there is no answer, in the proximity a headlighted car stands still at the corner as if deciding which way to turn at these crossroads - i catch a glimpse as i look out the window to question the delay in my request for breeze - the weather is getting cooler but it will never be winter here. Lucy, in the novel, is the only Snow i will encounter for now.

26 august

couldn't find a way to record correctly with video, until i did, but my project idea is going to take longer as now doing it twice means double the work in terms of editing...oh yeah, i am simply trying to get a few versions together for something... it's tuesday at two in the morning - on monday i dreamt i was with julia - she was also in a magazine, the magazine was rolled with a viriddescent tint as if stained by grass on dream lawn...i can't say why there is such ease with some people in these scenes, like her...still i was looking at the magazine more so than at her...when i awoke i found liberty had visited a magazine shop...i didnt see liroe - i used the mustang and the kramer all in the same reel - one take has a good enough sound and the other has a nice enough angle, putting these together is a task that worries me, so i have been putting it off - i went to sleep early and awoke too soon for my taste - i had been dreaming of emilee, maybe because i kept the portrait up on my wall and it is partly visible in the video, or maybe for no specific reason at all - it was not our life, at least not one that either of us imagined; we were living on a farm, in a farm house, and she asked me to get her something yet as i went out i realized that i had left my keys, it seems that in the dream knocking on the door was not an option - i had what she wanted and was surrounded by birds - i think now of how most birds are natural cannibals - in any case the bizarre part was how the idea of living with her felt memorized, ritualized, as if a fact in memory although recently i have only thought of her at the sight of willow hand, i wake up with the heat strangling me, jump in the shower thinking of romy mars, she had lightly pranked her roommate in a lockout situation, as for the rest of the situation; i survived the struggle to watch electrick children - maybe i was rewatching it, can;t exactly count all the movies i;ve seen...so i either liked it better this time or i enjoyed it for the first time...hanging on the telephone is as catchy as ego...still haven't selected what book to look into next...on a whim, i viewed the assignment, which i know for certain i did see long ago but had no detailed memory of - it's not an easy one to look at and perhaps more so now in the middle of mourning donald southerland - i had lost track of aidan circa practical magic or more likely songcatcher - good to see he has been constantly at work with five projects upcoming and one series... making my production concerns feel trivial...hate to see lars von trier's name kicked around the obituary circuit, it was per holst and i suppose to attract more readers the press made the connection...my point is the man has enough trouble without having to now navigate against the casual curse of words in print which might have made some people think it was his headline instead of the producer. "The old cathedrals often have sublime artworks hidden away in the darkest corners for only God to see. The same goes for murder..."

28/8
not much in terms of dreams...i chalk it up to overthinking...that film led me on to want to fiddle through a spy thriller...i selected the fourth protocol, in an audio book i think is an abridged version - i also think there is a film adaptation...in any case, it is pretty good...got halfway into it and didn't want to to stop...i cannot say the same for mobland - which i lined up to view then weighed the things to do...hopefully i can see that down the line...i did take a moment to view the deceiver which holds up shockingly well - i don't mind nudity in cinema but i love it when it could have obviously been used yet isn't...like it implies a certain respect for the actors, specifically the actress - (the lead plays a prostitute, you see_ well, as for my own video project, i have now neared the finish line...if all goes well i can count it as a completion by tomorrow... it took more work than i expected but i suppose that is the nature of it... i am going ahead with the ending although there was something in the box still in transit that i wanted to employ therein...the last i heard it should arrive this weekend and be delivered some days after that...september. the thought saddens me yet it is not such a serious sorrow - i mean the haul will positively improve my spirits. she rides shotgun thrilled me with its well paced and mysterious start then further as it took its twists and turns...indeed, one i might not hesitate to watch again... lovely surprise. ps, writer tries to order chinese food, they respond, we are out of fried rice, baffled - he settles for a sandwich...the next day he tries again...we took beef fried rice off the menu but you can order the mixed fried rice with only beef...i ordered it...still baffled and maybe even more now in writing it as the frivolity prevails over logic and i think it doesn't even make a good story! my apologies for put-placing such a jigsaw puzzle in your hands, hopefully i will make it up to you with some other tidbit which requires no guessing in the coming month.

two september

having finished my attempts at recording nine versions of get behind the mule, live and on video, with even a couple of takes i like very much, i turned down two german films which were - well - they were feeling out of place - and went straight into mobland...i actually could not stop watching it, i kept thinking this should have been two movies, maybe three - so i watched it all except for the last half hour to have the pleasure of waking up to it as a sort of conclusion. so happy, i went down that road. in my dreams i saw pigeons on a city street - my thoughts convoluted and quick - i had started reading the tenant of wildfell hall and maybe i was trying to hard to process the information - i don't think i've dreamt of rock doves previously - i also don't think i have posted a series without any notes...there was some sort of glitch and i had to re-post it and so continued posting all nine without notes - i suppose it's obvious but i had promised willow hand (who is featured in the eighth version - actually the first one i taped which served like a catalyst - cause i was tickled by her picture with a donkey - near enough to a mule, i thought... when a donkey gets it on with a mare; mules are produced...or so i am told) a credit in the form of mentioning it was her...well, at least i am making it clear here and might edit maybe or commentize it... in my back to bed dream this morning i found my cat was golden on one side and there was another cat seemingly excited, feline erection dream on keanu reeves' birthday...i had been thinking of helena who said her cat is willy and made an amazing road car video which made me think of amanda seyfried...you'll know the refernce if you've seen twin peaks the return...for some reason i was very excited to hear that chloe grace moretz had tied the proverbial knot...there was a pale blue dress and i loved seeing her joy in it... however my yesterday still went weird as i didn't get to new recordings, not even to guitar ritual...it was like i was overwhelmed by my own thoughts in the whirlwind puzzle of procrastination or more likely too much talk.

later that evening


i suppose it is what i would call the variation sessions...i was at ease with the song since doing it daily as an improvisation...of course once one hits the record button, with the knowledge that it all has to be done in one take...well, let us say most of them were not first takes, all the first takes served to figure out the style (except for an unfilmed one wherein i wasn't thinking about it in those terms - only to get a feel or confirm that i was hearing myself right...)all i knew was that there should be some difference between each...the heat and humidity didn't help and i admit to some surprise at the end of each completion - i am inclined to say i like the fifth version a bit more than the others...for now...before that, as i tried to recapture the planned progression in open F tuning on the martin acoustic, the high e string snapped - i mention this because later with ibanez electric (in open G) the situation repeated itself... i realized later that these two had become connected in ways i didn't imagine, they were used to being the only ones i used...and suddenly surrounded by the new models it seems they collaborated to mirror each other's protest...it led me to rearrange how i kept them and put placed them together hoping that it would help in the future...still, it underlines the struggle of having several guitars as any of the axes might at one time or another feel neglected... it's nothing i expected...like the new naked gun... what a riot! it was beyond silly right down to the creadts, you don't need glasses! well, i do need guesses about the two dreams i had, again in 3k, therein at the living room - both times with an ex girlfriend and her sister - once her memory flooded my thoughts but not the other...the way to describe it would be sensible...we spoke calmly, lovingly maybe, and in hushed tones - i can't say more because the content of the conversations drifted away leaving only the hint of itself. my only concern was that i sensed no emotional shift within myself over them as if they were interchangeable - i hope they are all right and wish them well - after calculating and contrasting the price of pizza and cake, i opted for cake and said thing arrived an hour or so ago...i had some and shaved. anyway, the songs were all recorded live during the period of 26 august until 29 august with the exception of the one not filmed from 20 august but also done live in a single take - which felt no stage fright worry over a possible audience... the sun was in virgo and once in a while i felt bathed in that light.

4.9.2025
the expected haul seems to have been re-delayed...they said it would arrive friday, tomorrow, but that implies another week's wait since those things need to be sorted, put on trucks, and so on and so forth... i was partly alarmed by the witch's torment as it held an interesting concept yet insisted on playing out as if it couldn't have been done in an hour or less - for me, that meant skipping through it to its uneventful ending...there was indeed more drama in the windows update...i'd seen the reports and noticed all the wild discounts which in retrospect feel as if a planned revolution to switch as much equipment as possible - with some hesitation i went ahead and updated, confident in my snapdragon but once the package downloaded the machine returned with that message; ran into a problem and needs to restart...it said they would restart it but i got jittery after some minutes and pressed down on the power button feeling all the madness that comes with possibly losing files one has even forgot one had...as i waited i made a mental list of the novel i thought was not backed up and the songs that only existed therein, and who knows what else...funny huh, and i had just started learning the chords to lennon's i'm losing you - also therein shocked by the line "So what the hell am I supposed to do? Just put a bandaid on it? And stop the bleeding now..." which needless to say brought to mind the tragic 1980 scene and suddenly my own situation with the laptop...anyway, all that did pass, it started up and i paused updates... with a plan to connect one of my storage units and transfer as much as possible in case of anything similar down the line. he repeats that line, stop the bleeding now...i thought it must have crossed his mind as he lay shot down... meanwhile i wasn't bleeding but the sweat felt like losing part of myself upon the bed - two hours of dreamless sleep only to awake to the wonder of it all - returning to dream, i find myself dressed as i was except with shirt unbuttoned and running around trying to fetch a pen and respond to the door all at the same time...i'm standing there as if waiting to sign something...there are two men at the gate, they look as if one man that has grown a second head on top of his natural skull...they are dark, unfriendly, and i cannot recognize them...i wake up again thankful that at least i had another hour of sleep - i recorded an instrumental song yesterday and no one knocked upon my door - except for a meal delivery - the day was cooler yet the apartment kept it;s steamy stance...i thought about helena's voice message before going to sleep...i think it is incorrect to leave school in order to be more of a fashion model...but that is only a suspicion as i have no insight...when i got up it was eight thirty i didn't have any dream recall.

five september


my point was that she could exploit herself in terms of becoming a social media influencer slash model instead of paying an agency to exploit her by passing her portfolio along for adverts... the education part is debatable... i watched dynamite, a film i had superimposed in part - the party scene - upon one of the get behind the mule takes...it was way more intense than i could have imagined...but as a sort of spoiler warning, skip this one if you are a bird lover...julia faye was in it like she was in a lot of cecil b demille films...i didn't make a movie yesterday, but julia mecey was in my dream...we were sitting next to each other at the frame of an open door, i felt dumb for not knowing the architectual terminology of a rounded door...it was very much like the door in rome when i met carmen from romania and took her picture...suddenly marie anne was sitting opposite us...none of us were speaking as if we understood one another by simply being there - i woke up for a moment then, i had been looking at her ring...studying it to find a talk show host engraved on one side - it must have been the middle of the night when my next dream presented masha which is spelled like mawa but is a nickname for maria, i say masha to distinguish from aria and neverova - masha had been on my mind through the day as she reminds me of someone i can't place - or perhaps it is merely someone from a past life - in the dream i am still audience and she is decked out in heels and a cat print bikini - she is swaying more than dancing but i can't make sense of the dream and awake a bit baffled like maybe this scene was intended for someone else -it's still dark yet the day is coming fast - i have some cake along with the coffee and get in a chapter of the tenant of wildfell hall...i steal away for a nap before the sun gets any higher into the sky - in the sugar filled dreamscape i am on a sofa facing a tv and there is a girl there with me...i brush away remnants of clingy socks from her toes...like always there is nothing on the tv, i play with her breast and try for one of the music stations - i am surprised - it wasn't like before as all the music channels are labeled by country yet no matter the nation there is an ozzy osbourne song blasting out on each...i lower the volume and realize three women from my family are arriving - i guess it was lotta or sierra - i'm really not sure as i have not televisioned since mother was here a year or so ago - she tells me to get her my sister's phone number - i stand in front of my sister in the dream and notice a spider web tattoo on her right eyelid...she says she can't remember that number number and vanishes while i now face a closet of my onw clothes - sierra or lotta says something about the spider web design - i sense mother and aunt but i can't see them, then start to doubt that it was my sister...it would necessarily take a larger face for that design, maybe it was all a masquerade or the dream of a couch potato somewhere - i don't know but i did play i'm losing you again a couple of times and even took a minute to feel the vocal, that is mine in contrast to lennon...i suspect i will only have trouble with the chorus which goes a bit against the grain as if to plead lighter than the argumentative verses in four syllables that sometimes sound like three - not that i actually know how i will do it in the end, but i wanted get learnt on how he did it.

six september


someone is speaking to me in a dream, i do not know or recognize who it might be...it seems we are in a lobby or shop...something street-level since after talking i find myself on the avenue... i am shown pepperidge farm chessmen cookies - there is writing upon the package more like a letter or note than ingredients...i actually have one in the pantry yet i had overdosed on these sweets and it's been there a couple of months now - the font is a light script - easy enough to read yet i don't recall what it said - upon waking i find myself thinking of astrid, i had just learnt she was in lisbon when the following day told of a streetcar all the press called a funicular for some reason...she has two pictures are i admire - i was relieved to see her post a new photo as it then stood to reason that she was more or less in safety - in the dream, i saunter and spot a man i do recognize although i have not met him - i suppose he reminds me of the jamaican in the exchange loft with the slide out key as a transaction counter - for some reason in the scene he is having a sale, the dime bag comes with some sort of hallucinogenic side-kick, twisted roots in licorish color resembling peppermint christmas candy sticks or canes in surreal or abstract miniature and also encased within the common jewelry zip bag...i am eager and receive a ten from my twenty disappointed at the nnumber of visible seeds well at least they are visible and not embedded into the bud like a surprise in a cracker jack box...i walk away and awake - it's seven in the morning, i'm nearing the mid-way mark of the tenant of wildfell hall...i will carry on with it as the start of my day, then mix the new recording i did yesterday before guitar ritual when i again strummed through the aforementioned song yet did not sing it for the smoke filled room and upset stomach... i had viewed unknown number the high school catfish, which proves frailty thy name is woman might yet hold ground, hail willy shakes - and i reluctantly added it to the list of films about writers...what i disliked the most was how miss licari reminded me of miss mcderby from grade school... who left me a cherished remembrance... ps, for reasons unexplained i created wordstar.straw.page

8.9.2025

in a dream i am strumming a guitar - sliding down from an a suspended chord on the second fret to other chords between the fifth and seventh... the day did not seduce much activity, i tried to watch something called what we hide, but i was interrupted by an amazon delivery - the driver calling from another building down the road and the call itself making a passing street vendor sound in stereo - sounds really do sway emotion or have the potential to do so...i left the movie, my state of mind more to blame than the drama - in another dream, a woman has moved in and is being very gentle with me as if intent on staying, i;m not sure who she is and she didn't remind me of anyone after i awoke...i was telling her that i had cake and left over chinese food and it was all in the fridge - of course there hasnt really been left over take out since hunan garden...i don't recall exactly yet i believe the dream was not in english...i keep seeing these laptops on sale and started seriously considering getting on...no easy choice...we all know there will be new models in a few months - what if they are merely clearing stock - i tested the items that arrived, everything seemed fine - although i still feel marantz owes me refund...before resloving itself - anne switches narration to the female lead and it's the very definition of open up the safe; bitches have a lot to say... the writing isnt bad, although it gets a bit too religious, but it is as if she is knitting and making her readers explore the process of stitching her protagonist's tale until one feels drunk or dizzy - i suppose that implies that between charlotte and emily she was the lesser scribe...of course one could equally argue that it was a forerunner of psychological novels...if she were here, i would put place it thisaway; you missed all levity like a band playing straight ballads for hours, very little here inspires affection for any the characters when the tempo is downright sour...a third of it done, but i doubt there will be any humor on the horizon...well as hunter thompson said; pay the ticket, take the ride.

9.9.2025

i got up early, and returned myself to sleep, thinking surely i did not get enough rest - caitlin, who left new york for los angeles spoke of ovulation...it reminded of a slippery dream i missed jotting, sitting in a bath with a woman...i don't think it was her - and seeing blood rise...then searching her to see if she was bleeding...maybe it was about the blood moon - term of eclipse...a good reason to be a thief is to steal sky - now this is the third mention of shotgun, which i find weird or interesting - in another dream, there is a man in a trench coat, unlike the flood dream or the film - in fact sort of like kyle maclachlan, he is holding the weapon and looking none too happy. i remember waking up and thinking of the other side of dale cooper...gee he was good in that. too good. as i drifted into dreams this mid-morning i found myself dressed in a suit explaining to a man that i had a hankerchief, he tried to beat me by producing a second one from his lapel pocket side...but i had one in my own and he turned as if defeated, i patted him on the back...thinking of keaton, neither buster nor dianne but michael - although as confusing as it is, douglas...film idea the two michael douglases - back in the series kyle also played a doug...it all comes around somehow - anyway there is a line, crowded, it feels we are all enetering a court house - a heavy set judge leans over the entrance - there is a pretty prosecutor and she is trying to flirt with him, it is all in a language i can't understand - she tries again after glancing at me, saying a word that sounds like mint - but he scoffs as if correcting her, mont...i wake up thinking she doesnt have a chance with her case. i suppose the only thing to do now is to listen to jackson browne's lawyers in love along with queen's don't stop me now for it being inka's birthday and it was through her i found that song.

ten september


i'd gone to sleep thinking of julia...well two julias...one had spoken of naps with a near political enthusiasm...the other i had seen in weapons...a modern classic that defies category and somehow transcends itself... one of the few times where hype is not only justified, but on some level even lacking. well, let me leave it there as i would be tempted to go into spoilers by continuation - all the while, yesterday and today, that is i had been intent on avoiding the mention of the girl on the train that was unalived as the post-modern expression now says - but forgive me my lack of restraint as i was nearing the point of perfect silence, i mean why speak - what could one say! i was confronted by reports of an even more intense tragedy...she was stabbed in the neck, he was shot in the neck! orem, utah...charlottte, north carolina... iryna was as quiet as mouse, but the silence of the passangers near her was deafening... i wasn't sure what shocked me more - anyway, charlie was not quiet, on the contrary, he took a stance and it seems to have cost his life...i was sure of the shock in his case, as i watched the twitch and slump of his being when the bullet struck flesh and blood poured out into social media... everything said or nothing to say - both equalized by death...so i jot the note, horrified for his wife and children... hoping they never see my careless words. i should have been thinking about doris, another birthday girl...but where was the time? i had cake for breakfast along with honey don't - two great films in row, yes it is possible - i had a complaint maybe a couple , but hats off to ethan, that was fine cinema. i had expected to spend the afternoon concerned with the girls visiting new york for fashion week, at least the ones i 'knew' - yet that breaking news left no room to escape - nepal and france lost any hope for international attention, nevermind gaza israel or poland ukraine russia...i saw one woman say he was 'stabilized" then the reports confirmed his passing...as of this writing, the shooter is at large...another woman had posted herself naked with her georgia state id exposed upon her belly - indeed i've seen too much this week, maybe we all, collectively, have. in the late afternoon, i roamed back into my dream...well, it wasn't a dream - it couldn't have been since i saw helena flesh it out in a post as if anticipated or in some weird synchronicity...i;d seen her on a bed, topless, and could sort of hear her voice - it all surprised me since i seemed to be standing there watching and it is not in my dream nature to encounter women half undressed, still the surprise grew as i came across her new pictures, some shoot wherein she was not so exposed yet wearing only lingerie...i have had psychic dreams once in a while, but i can't put place this in that category which is why i wroted that it wasn't a dream...something else. in the early evening i wanted to eat something else and ordered kfc simultaneously intent on viewing dracula a love story - it took an hour and i had started to regret my choice in selecting that so called combo meal...but the film was so delicious, was such a treat, i am tempted to term it divine. two hours and ten minutes of rapture and delight. i am not a scholar of the dracula genre, but i have seen most of them with the exception of last year's nosferato by mister eggers - and so there was a sweet ping pong game between 1922 and 1979 and 1992 especially in my mind like time travel hop as the scenes surrounded me...it's one of the few times i applauded when the credits rolled. i fully intend to watch all these films again. as for the violent incidents irl, well i would be foolish to wish for no more of them knowing full well that in one case, the now nearly hushed knock out game could graduate into a stabbing sensation while in the other case, political assassinations are de facto or nearly part of the playbook...i've seen none yet have heard some left-wingers or liberals were cheering and or celebrating, indeed even before today there was a vocal desire expecting the demise of trump. i noticed the many press releases mixing in the president's name with an alarming nonchalance... on the other hand, unity such as this has not been seen since the death of ozzy osbourne... ( i would like to underline the further irony of the netflix royal visiting england as then some claim sisson was deleting anti-kirk posts, trekkies have yet to weigh in and being team shatner i hope they do so soon...) -------------------------------------------- Noah Vosen: Our target is a British national - Simon Ross, a reporter. I want all his phones, his BlackBerry, his apartment, his car, bank accounts, credit cards, travel patterns - I want to know what he's going to think before he does. Every dirty little secret he has, and most of all we want the name and real-time location of his source. This is NSA priority level 4. Any questions? ---------------------------------------------------

12 september

i did not retain any dream memory from last night. before then, i dreamt of waiting outside with a cousin...seemed to be new york, a parking garage, the vehicle a sports car, low to the ground...fancy, i cou;dnt understand it - yet it reminded me of a party i went to one time and that late night i was asked if i could drive, saying yes without actually knowing how to handle a vehicle, i was given keys and told to take the wheels into a similar garage. somehow, it all worked out...what didn't work out for me was anne bronte - the final influx of the aunt had my hysterical...it must be the longest epistle style tome in history and i felt the heaviness of time within it...sure the writing once in a while is poetic enough, but i really started to dislike it when helen returns to her husband in the role of caretaker...there is no logic to establish that as reasonable... well, at least now i have "met" all three bronte sisters...anyway, from the many raves involving dracula a love story, i learned there was one vampire film i had missed, dracula untold - quickly viewing the trailer, i didn't feel i had missed anuthing relevant to this - it is a real alternate take with minimal influence from bram stoker - hopefully i can catch it somewhere down the line - i awoke with heavy thoughts about weapons - with worry about arriving deliveries and if i had slept too late - it was well before nine in the morning so it was all right...although as it nears noon i see i could have squeezed in a few more minutes of rest - instead, i finsihed mastering and acoustic version of bookmaker's stake (song about the shooting of catholics in ireland and saint agatha) and in making the new art work i then proceeded to remix the electric version and re-named it bookmaker's shop, suspecting that is how sean graham's place was called - obviously the recent news brought this tune to mind... not to mention the now overlooked evergreen colorado incident... well, both are set for release...hopefully, soon. as i type the tyler robinson news breaks...not so good for the foundation...i notice it is not the usual three names and for some reason i like that it is not the usual as this was no usual assassination. there is a resemblance to one of the colombine shooters if memory serves...(took a glance, indeed eric harris looks a nit like tyler robinson, ps the foundation's address might be noted: 11700 W Charleston Blvd #170-57, Las Vegas, NV 89135...my apologies for the spelling, it was not intentional.. ------------------------------------------------ "Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes Put it in your pantry with your cupcakes It's a little secret, just the Robinson's affair Most of all, you've got to hide it from the kids..." -----------------------------------------------

13.9.2025

in a dream i'm riding on of those sand vehicles - i'm not sure what they are called, sort of like a four wheeler yet with room for two...i was standing on what must have been the passenger side, like in a western when horses enter a new town - i don't recognize the city - it is crowded with one story structures and some duplexes - i see sierra levesque walking as i get nearer to the streets - then i am walking, i hear someone shout something, like a cat call yet more of an insult, i see it's directed at julia - she is sitting in a cafe very obviously immersed in some fashion of study - she responds that they should mind their own business but i as my steps bring me close to her i see that she has sort of frozen maybe in midsentence, sitting there with her mouth open as if time had stopped - i suppose i have some knowledge that it is a dream and instead of being concerned i am only happy to have seen her - her hair seemed a touch shorter... in any case, either yesterday or today, is when sierra released her first album...i reckon by making a note of it i am wishing her well - i had gone to bed early without successfully falling asleed until later and awoke a few moments before five in the morning - i took advantage of the the cool quiet air to sweep the hall, living room, and kitchen...then i watered the plants - after feeding skirt and scrolling aimlessy through social media, i went back to bed feeling it was yet too early to start the day as it were - in my nap dream, i was carrying one of my laptops into what seemed to be an office, an office where mother was working...but somehow the scene brought to mind aunt's house - in any case, i'm at a desk surrounded by other desks and people seemingly at work - my laptop is slow and i start to worry that i should not have connected it to that network and soon enough shut it off - as i do i look under the desk and find several usb sticks connected to each other, i pull them out thinking to find out what data they hold or if the place was set up to transfer files from my own files..i think i speak to mother before leaving - suddenly finding myself in another room with two women - one of them has pants, that is she is offering me pants...she says she can get my size by pressing an incredibly large pair against my legs, no not large they were humungous - she judges the contrast, and looking at her trying to handle the giant slacks i say, so a former first lady has nothing better to do than trade in fucking elephant pants, i repeat then looking at the other girl, fucking elephant pants- i awake realizing that in the dream i did not even weigh the possible synonyms...colossal, massive, immense, megalithic, astronomical, gargantuan...all a touch nicer than fucking elephant pants, although elephantine could or should have been more polite - in any case, the easier huge, big, and oversize simply don't tell the story...i mean - stretched out - they exceeded the queen mattress in terms of length...it was about nine then and i knew it was time for more coffee. ps, a working version of our new fashion word processor is now up @ inkrealm.info/runway

sunday 14 september 20225

the new app met some evolution and addition - i surprised myself with this one as i believe it is the first interchangeable video background text area...i had spent a day nearly lovely - otherwise, except i did not get to as much guitar as i would have liked...i kept thinking of how unusual it was dream to of disguising a request - at some shop asking for tobacco paper instead of the usual name i would employ - even more unusual was thinking of harris, who i neither like, respect, nor expect anything but lies from...being in that other scene - perhaps it was the pure shock of a once reliable publication, the atlantic, printing her as if chaos does indeed reign...in the afternoon martha made mention of one of her earlier films, i motioned to view it and did so - baba yaga : terror of the dark forest... enjoying very much yet disgruntled with her limited appearance and demise within it. the situation led me to peek into 90263, the wordstar.nexus page dedicated to her - i decided to start planning an update yet have not brought myself to it...i do hope to find some way of improving it...presently in the middle of an errol flynn flick - edge of darkness, 1943...both films made me think of lynch, i mean in terms of darkness, where i got my idea about it from - as excited as i was to see the bowie archives available (https://www.vam.ac.uk/info/david-bowie-centre-faqs) i was at the opposite sensation of a thrill experiencing the sale of lynch's home - how cool would it have been to museum while having kept the already auctioned items... i imagined the demonstration in england in terms of protesting that as well as immigration...anyway, i don't know about you but the next time they start speaking of the blood moon i am going into hiding - what a fucking week! myself feeling bargained for as i rose this morning...mouth partly open, salivating, drooling on the right side... i didn't recall the dream except for talk of ontario - a place in canada i have not yet visited - i was concerned over being put placed in a trance or even wondered if i was suffering from some malaise - i am not intimate with hypochondria but every once in a while i undress before it knowing that each concern could further be complicated - at the expectation of a new machine i finally put in a couple of apps on my second laptop...it felt good like having enough options on it now instead of merely the music apps...in any case, i ate cake and much later a sandwich with chips. the weather has been cooling but the apartment is yet holding on to a mystery hotness...i noticed liam had a follow up sequel titled ice road : vengeance and i was pretty satisfied with my choice in avoiding hesitation - getting right into it i found it stars fan binbin as well as introducing grace o'sullivan - now reminding me of ann sheridan - 'we must be like steel' - yes i know the reviews are not good but i thought it was cool and i was entertained the whole while. meanwhile the 1943 is interesting enough, two thousand in the norway reistance lost their lives between 1940 -45, in 2018 Prime Minister Erna Solberg said the country was sorry - in terms of 'german-girls'; "Up to 50,000 Norwegian women are thought to have had intimate relationships with German soldiers. The Germans were also encouraged to have children with them by SS leader Heinrich Himmler..." those women were mistreated after the war for the obvious reasons...well, i suppose it is time to gif some frames of that film and include it in the film list inkrealm.info/1991

15 september

i did not get to sleep until late, much later than i expected - at about ten in the morning, i was woken by an interruption of electricity - it feels very specific when the fan is all one has to keep from sweating...there's a steamy feeling, a sensation of the worst sauna in the world intent on making one lose one's patience - so the lights were out, i remember going to bed as lotta ended her day and helena started her own - there were no dreams and hardly any thoughts except i wondered how the amazon carrier would get through without phone or internet - before i could think too much, the street vendors seemed to take advantage of the opportunity, as if multiplying exactly at that time - i drank cold coffee and had cigarettes cursing the circumstance - it's like being screamed at from the street again and again so that even if like me you reach for reading material - in this case empire v by victor pelevin, for pondering that it would fit in nicely on the heels of dracula a love story, and get 120 pages you still have more recall of the distraction - in any case, after a few chapters i stopped worrying that pelevin would crowd the prose with his multitude of variations and found it to be pretty straightforward - so it should not be a task to tackle the rest of it and finish it soon - yet the day was lost, it was lost as soon as the lighte went out and the yelling started - the delivery never alerted or showed in any case as if the whole thing was pre-planned and packaged...i noticed as the electricity returned moments after two in the afternoon - later with take out, i tried to watch playgirls of frankurt and it sure had some quality but i was not in the mood for it - i opted for truer noir, 1949's "impact"...or if you think your wife is awful take a look at this woman - sure it has a glitch or two yet i was in its chokehold all the way.

18 September

im not much for thumb typing on my cell, by way of explaining this "style"... the windows update failed, corrupting bitlocker thing and wiping restore points, in the middle of a reinstall now... i was watching relay, not bad but he should have known when they had her phone... spent the last couple of days reimagining and redesigning the main inkrealm.info page, satisfied with results...more so since the haul arrived...i love the jackery knowing that power outages will not be as problematic, i adore the banker guitar picks, excellent - as for the new telecaster well, i feel as i did with the mustang so there is hope that i will come to terms with it... hmm i watched americana, but i am reluctant to commentize...i am nearing the end of 'rope of sand' which is pretty unusual - the novel, empire v is not holding up in the middle section - it's like it has too much to explain so it starts feeling like a lecture instead of literature but not so awful...i looked at pictures of munich from the 30s in contrast to present day...spme views are so similar it was thrilling, in a historical sense, naomi carman was playing live and i caught a few minutes - such a good voice and so beautiful! nothing else to note, not even dreams...uhm there was a scene with natalia but i felt it was manipulated although maybe it was due to her artwork being yet upon my walls...when waking i noticed that scanning sensation retracing the time i asked her for it... so i chalked it up to spying...spyvgames was a redford film and of course he was on my mind these last few days...it was a rainy day and i am enjoying the aftermath which brings a near chill to the night's air...i can't deny my anxiety over the reinstallation and i am not happy over having to put place all the apps into the system but i am hopeful it will all work out.

19spetember

i hope nobody encounters such a situation - well, let me preface by saying that the situation was resolved - however, for some reason the reinstall removed all wireless connections - when doing so, you get directed to a aka.ms/dotnet/app-launch-failed and so the first lesson is obviously to have another way at hand to access the internet - and a usb with enough space for a few items such as 'Microsoft.AspNetCore.App' and intel wifi drivers - et cetera (in my case things were complicated by the fact that samsung asked to scan my galaxy book but of course it was offline ) anyway after trying the turn off and on router and even ridiculously moving the laptop near the modem - i came across the first part of the solution, “OOBE\BYPASSNRO” which one types in at the pop screen from shift key + F10 (word to the wise, that particular screen needs to be "activated" and this is done by "tapping" on the screen and praying to an obscure roman deity) well, i proceeded to bring in the network drivers from intel and appscore thing but nothing - still a puzzle...it was solved finally and honestly still mysteriously by goinf back into the manage devices, wherein i looked past the network connections upon seeing some samsung thingy that was highlighted as if needing to be updated - in a second there it was - the wifi option! i hope this saves someone that encounters such a raw deal...i waited for today to rinstall apps but i did take a minute to delete as much microsoft bloatware as possible and turning off the updates ...while finishing rope of sand and making a second video for the inkrealm.info background...not being as tall as the previous video it left a space which i filled up with dick tracy, so catch that one if you can while its there... i went to sleep and had some sort of erotic dream, well maybe romantic but i always think it is erotic when there is nakedness...not sure, i know i awoke soon after thinking of how the vampires told each other to always pay for sex reasoning that there is no such thing as free cheese...uhm that's from empire v - and i went right back to sleep then in a dreamless slumber - getting uo in the late morning, intent on setting things right with the snapdragon - i sensed and even saw kitty ( a model that keeps a set of dolls as her family) yet i could not explain the quasi paranormal sensations although that other movie, the burt lancaster one, his character was mike davis...just like a history teacher i knew... it was from him that i first learned about astral projection - and perhaps in some sort of alchemist magic, there was a meeting in some some sort of grey spiritual area that would otherwise be inexplicable...anyway at this point it's now early evening - i am torn between cleaning up some or going through the scale ritual on guitar... i had been playing the mustang and then the new telecaster again leaving them both out as if saying to myself they were not that different except for tone...i mean that in a good way.

21september2025

as if i didn't get enough windows action, i opted to reset the other laptop, mostly to purge my system from onedrive - this was easier yet took a much longer time after the reinstall there was a bit of weirdness with fl studio, i had reverted back to an earlier model, baffled by their snippets of sounds and new set up - but some plugins werent loading until they did - i even managed to free myself from the browser popup information of "what's new" although later it still came up in the form of html code in txt within notepad...you can't always get what you want... i watched swipe, which was much more than i expected - even cool, in a feminist sense...but then american sweatshop was not what i expected, like they wanted to torture the audience with awful images or hints of them... for some reason i kept thinking of gemma, not my gemmma, and not the Ai model, but the going to college waitress that once in a while rants about the restaurant on social media...i'm not sure what this means, like the monkey flag but it was casual... i got to the conclusion of empire v, i can nearly say for certain that i did not like the middle part - and by the time the protagonist goes in for a duel - well, i was at a loss for logic - anyway the actual poetic battle wasn't bad but i had a hell of a time understaing how he survived even if the resolution was perfectly clear...i ventured to imagine that there are truths in it which cannot be told and so the narrative becomes riddled by necessity - but maybe it is that that particular author had already at that point overdone it in terms of previous books - in any case i actually preferd this style to generation p although gp is a lot more fun albeit convoluted or crowded with concepts. speaking of generation, the lights went out and i had my first shot at the jackery in an actual situation plugging in a lamp and fan and playing losing games of chess as the vst search function did its thing. it felt like being in a space ship drifting into the far reaches of the outer realms...the feeling of power and freedom - and as the lights came back the satori of wow what a missed opportunity that was in empire v with smells like teen spirit line albino libido mosquito although i myself had no exact theory for how it might be inserted or alluded to...ps, bablos - in english bab is like saying babe but in russia bab is like saying granny - however, the nearest word in not so common use is byblos - an eatery that might be found in toronto, bondi, mykonos, and miami. in other words i will prolly not find someone that might illuminate my questions about this novel. please note how the climax reflected my staring at the windows reinstallations!

23 september

dostoyevsky = sixteen novels, seventeen short stories... pelevin = nineteen books and counting... bulgakov...five novels. i'm not suggesting any write less, it was merely a passing thought within i also judge myself... in contrast - although i slept soundly, after eating i felt as drowsy as any drugged man and nested upon the bed again sleeping as if it were the only thing to do...my thoughts blurred in trying to solve the snoozing sensation - leni klum was there as i wondred why i had been dreaming about a dirndl before, florence pough was there as i tried to distinguish the scenes from the film lady macbeth as opposed to the lady macbeth of the mtsensk district which i had just read - i drifted away no wiser - dreaming of wood ladders and metallic ladders - it's only five degrees cooler on my desk than it is in ninety degree siberia but it will get colder there - here not so much - it's my first time reading leskov, "I prefer to build a story upon a real fact, not fiction..." and i hope it is not my last. tackle box, tail bone, tiny toy car... because i thought about it, i went back to apartment 7A. yet i paused it to see the fantastic four first steps which i thought would be fluff yet it was a magic act in the sense that it presented a sort of 1950s vibe right alongside space travel...enchanting, even the credits were extremely well done i admit, it even made me emotional - in a dream in some backstage hallway an impossible crowd of women in slik surround me and i kept holding my arms stretched out straight and still so as not to have them think my movement was intent on touching...in another dream i am dressed in a burgundy striped tee and then wearing the same pattern shirt...i was arguing with someone that claimed someone else was my pal, i don't have any fucking friends, i said - there was an avenue and a suitcase and i kept crossing back and forth as if checking in for a flight at some airport that was still under construction - i cleaned up my room and attempted to organize for creativity. currently, i have come across an unsually cool chord progession, i have also started on a tinsel town ghost story for the purpose of recounting the history of the land until the 1920s... the thought that i have never seen a native of los angeles california struck me as weird...i suppose in getting back to writing, yes i don't consider these notes literature, for the most part; i naturally pondered over opening lines - Jake felt puzzled at the obese family standing before him and insisting they needed his money with urgency. He would not have given weight a second thought, had it been a wealthy yet skinny clan. In fact, most of the rich people he knew - for unclarified reasons, were thin. He tried to count the poor fat people but he couldn't get past the irony. He gazed at Julia, his secretary, musing over her body structure which had always been scrawny but now was being fleshed out in curvy ways by some gymnasium she visited before arriving at work. He felt, the pounds made her less attractive yet nowhere as downright ugly as the blubber crowd requesting a loan at his desk...

30 september 2025

one kingdom was called iOS, and its capital was the Home Screen, a grid of squares and circles that glowed with the soft luminescence of the night... nah i haven't beem on my iphone so much, it's merely to introduce our app available exclusively for the other kingdom, android... www.inkrealm.info once you allow it, in some cases a scan is available, and install it there are no permissions needed and it will auto-update anytime the domain is edited...basically a mirror of the main page with the links opening in your chosen browser....the app-icon is;
that is also the detail which took days to get right...so yeah there was a lot of coding by which i mean mostly guess work and vibe coding... by way of explaining my absence...also due partly to expecting a delivery which somehow met with delay and is yet to arrive...i stayed up all night for the set day only to find myself still waiting...in the meanwhile, i viewed apartment 7A a few more times...it coincided with a new interview and since i was in a creative state of mind this was the result; https://inkrealm.info/apartment7A (i also had apartment 7g going as a playground) now mostly done save for links and a splash screen i want to put place there but it's coming along...lingering upon those inclinations i also started to update https://wordstar.nexus/90263 which naturally led to working on https://inkrealm.info/kessler which is the cornerstone of the aforementioned web portal...i'm onto something but for some reason it took more hours than i care to admit spending...now then the delivery in question is a laptop and in planning for it i was thinking about affine... i really am excited about that system and to show my enthusiasm i created https://wordstar.nexus/triad which isn't perfect but gives a great example of how cool their software is or might be...obviously all that made me contemplate https://wordstar.nexus/typewriter to which is now added a slow loading tf.js notepad because i finally figured out how to get language models onto a word processor but didn't want to disrupt this app instead i put placed the option at https://inkrealm.info/runway making it hopefully a greater thing than it was...not so great yet good enough for basic editing is the byproduct of investigating options; https://wordstar.nexus/novawrite which was more deepseek than myself but the enhancements were truly mine, it's one for the times when you want reference materials next to the text editor...i was thinking of the ibm symphony style...i suppose that about concludes the html, css, and javascript side of things for the time being... hopefully some of it will be of some use to someone down the line. but the absence was also caused by nothing to report in terms of dreams...last night i dreamt a haul had arrived and in it were three guitars, two acoustic and one of these a ceramic contraption that opened up as if holding a secret compartment...i remember trying to count how many guitars that would be...but in reality the whole week saw very little playing...i suppose all the updating and then too my choice to further clean house kept me at a distance from notes and chords...later in the dream i was walking down some city street with a woman but left her as i saw my hotel, like a hotel i always go to without paying but the receptionist was not there- it was someone else and i turned away knowing there was no way to get a room, entering some sort of press conference, a gathering of men in suits giving detective vibes surrounded me and then photographers and then i awoke focusing on one camera and thinking how certain people can drive you away from yourself in a sense...i wondered over maria aria and thought about the palm agency and how she might be...the only other dreams i recall from the week of construction were the ones wherein i encountered lotta crossing a street...then she was riding a bicycle which i suddenly found myself upon with a difficult balance - i assume i have not come to terms with that whole scene and most likely don't wish or want to...in some other reality i am climbing up a narrow staircase railing and handing a woman i do not know a deck of cards...i meantion it thinking they are related since they were bicycle cards...i played cards with mother when she was last here letting win to see some joy in her and in a dream i dreamt she was missing...in a manner of speaking it isn't far from the truth. i am reading zero k, a novel by don delillo, i had tried to dismiss it as a book wroted by someone past his prime, but found it poetic. it lost me at the pilgrimage sequence as if the narrator who is the protagonist had gone insane but it levels down and returns to its poetic tone...of course i shouldn't say anything until the race is run.

three october

it was that way with the first episode of slow horses, season five - a sudden but strange thrill i suppose from memories of first person shooter games or possibly rioting against all the murder in some ironic emotional way that left me wondering why i was happy to see the bloodshed, ofcourse i was only mixing emotions at the joy within the show's return but then (having read the book this round is based on, i felt my thoughts racing to judge it in contrast to the prose) it didn't sit well as if the opening was too much...i suppose they were merely getting their gameplan on - setting up the balance cause man woman or teen was that second episode hitting all the notes! damn fine. still my dreams were a blur but zero k got better - the wird orphan gives the reader a lot to think over... i was thinking of word processors and dug up the bones of of one i had forgot about while making two others as if suddenly in a trance...not to mention the wordstar app which has a flaw or two but you can judge for yourself on android wordstar.nexus

uhm the text editors are as follows: https://wordstar.nexus/alt, https://wordstar.nexus/ataraxia, and https://inkrealm.info/fadeaway all three might be updated for minor improvements but i feel even in these basic forms some users will find them groovy... anyway i got to sleep late and was awoken by news of the delivry - the outer box was repackaged with tape that read 'opened and resealed by customs" an awful feeling that gave me and the inner box was scratched but sort of intact... i'd say it's far from lavender but i got it set up after going back to sleep - giving it a gemma and a liquid ai - the ones i found most ease with, given my ram and space to run offline if i wanted...i opted for the ibm lotus symphony in case of notes and the only other addition was the sdk air (to see if i could translate one of the text editors into an exe with a .bat file...wish me luck! ps, viewed caught stealing, can't believe liev an vincent they must have the greatest sense of humor on earth... dear santa, in need of a briefcase that i can pack in three laptops...in case of having to go somewhere, but wait the guitars...better make that a van or truck, sincerely, inky.

on October third, he asked me what...

i'd like to know how many others felt the confusion- or at least settle the argument that the last two paragraphs of zero k are entirely too vague; " The full solar disk, bleeding into the streets, lighting up the towers to either side of us, and I told myself that the boy was not seeing the sky collapse upon us but was finding the purest astonishment in the intimate touch of earth and sun. I went back to my seat and faced forward. I didn’t need heaven’s light. I had the boy’s cries of wonder." if you, like me, had to look up Manhattanhenge,then we agree, my feeling - although having lived in new york city most of my life - that the sun was destroying the town like a lava flood was or is only logical... in other words, i sort of liked the book but what the hell was that indefinite conclusion!

5 october

william tell and the good die young, the first movie had it all except it was edited to frustrate the audience...one wonders if these sorts of things are done on purpose...the second was mostly good, especially the mother in law...i don't know where the time went in terms of trying out all the available ai set up options... i suppose i have something of an obsessive anxiety over getting a task done to as much as a conclusion as possible except when it comes to cleaning the house...alice cohen has a new record out and i was overwhelmed by ice queen...the cat kept looking at the back of the fridge until it made me curious and what did i find - a fucking bird...a pigeon had been there all day! either flew in through the balcony or was clawed down by the onlooker himself...i prepared some spaces and expected to lead it to the balcony but it cudled by the front door and so i let it out thataway...but this note is really about artificial intelligence - for a while, having tried some models, i was in a dismissive state of mind except for html - css - and javascript coding...but with the new laptop, i found myself anticipating or perhaps expecting a twist in the story...what i've seen lately - especially with deepseek and google's mobile beta option - tells me we are not in kansas anymore...these machines will likely improve and even if they don't quantum computing is around the corner...well, it's here just not for the audience as it were...i'd already judged myself far behind the game in terms of tuning a model to my own inclinations but i am thinking there may be a way around that hurdle, there may be a way to get something beyond my expectations and maybe even something beyond good...great. so i marched into the machine with that shadowing my reasoning - i liked lmstudio but it did not feel stable and also it felt aware of some previous "chat" which had taken place in openai... i opted to install three or four other versions of this contraption which imports large language models...i found it interesting or strange that ollama does not require an email if you do it on linux...yes, i also studied and seduced an ubuntu version from what is known as wsl2... i swear i'm not a nerd...finding it took too much space and then backtracking in retreat...but i resettled everything with jan ai even if i only felt it done when i switched out the hand emoji ico for something more in my style... well, maybe i am a nerd...whatever the case, i was pleased to find myself in the right as the copilot button seems to be disliked by many others...microsoft put in a season of 365 with a large amount of storage - for me, meaning that i could once again access the dreaded onedrive files which went over the free five gigabytes because it is itself a nonstop uploading and sync freak...i'd given up on it but was somewhat pleased at that irony, at it being available- strangely the zip download came with a bunch of errors and a slowness not even takeout can match...so in the end there were only a couple of items i kept - notably the quicktime player as i feel there hasn't been a better player made for video...like winamp with audio...nothing has come close...i proceeded to delete the files and rename 'personal vault' in a paranoid moment without looking back. there is yet something in me that wants a stand alone copy of word but i saw that even that now is littered with "copilot" cop eye lot...imagine it, a handful of people defy all the customers and carry on with their notion of what is cool despite all the evidence that it aint... don't get me wrong, i'm thankful for microsoft and i'd select that OS over any others even if ibm would have probably evolved into greatness (witness how even still OS/2 is still working - last updated in the 1990s with warp 4...) but they need to be in agreement with the people buying their product...there is no logical agreement with 365 or copilot...imagine the person buying their system today for a fond memory of cortana...well, lucky for them there is the hippopotamus...filehippo.com/download_cortana/ myself, i rely on majorgeeks a lot more than i would like to admit ie, www.majorgeeks.com/files/details/adobe_air.html well, maybe it is the way microsoft likes to go about it; backwards... does anyone use internet explorer...no. see the obituary from 2022...anyway, none of these ramblings help me understand how or when to find the satori within ai through these invitations i have prepared for them and myself...stil, a nice position to be in, that is to say confident enough in myself to think i can turn this rising tide to my advantage - well to the advantage of readers...and morever with a system now free of worry in terms of the laptop or saving files and backing them up since there are none and only a couple of apps...and when the time comes to write and save i will hopefully have further safety net options in place...as for now, i am in the process of rendering a mobile app for inkrealm.info/1991 and i will post and or update here when that is done...