watch out for the spin offs

I'm feeling itchy... that usually means another new growth area is ready to emerge from the primordal soup of creativity within me... as if what is off to the left (meaning the links) and out there (meaning the web world) when you click on the candora sig below (meaning my web world) is not enough... this sorta feeling usually comes when I am not satisfying some of the voices in my head (how many are there, you might ask... well, officially, the population of my head has never fully been ascertained because not everyone answers the phone when it's time for a census and there are not enough volunteers to go door to door... you had to ask, huh?)...

there hasn't been a good visceral growth in a while... I don't quite mean X-rated, but I do mean more sensuality than I've been expressing... you may find some rather erotic ramblings somewhere in my web world if you look hard enough (pun completely unintentional... much like the comma in my underwear remark in recent dialog that I thought twice about thinking about... a few of you may have caught that... laughing, are we? (well I should hope so)... I would hope that some references to physical sensuality would not be considered offensive, as my intention is not to offend, but for the Tipper Gore audience that a rather innocent beieng like candora might earn, I will consider expanding to another site if I feel eroticism coming on... in my own irreverent way, of course...

rants are another thing relatively absent in recent times... and I probably have a whole lot more to rant about now that I am back to being a poor struggling starving unknown artist working nights to sustain the body that feeds the insatiable heart and mind... I mean, life had become rather like a dirty toilet as the last millenium wound down and I don't think I completed ranted all that out of my system (the true rant is like a fine wine, it takes years to ferment and must be opened at just the right time... remember the soup? (it's not soup yet)...

there is also ego... my ego is another starving artist these days as, being insatiable, a million screaming fans would merely whet his whistle... adoration is all the fool wants and that is a rather precious commodity, so he plays aloof to mock his insecurity... maybe he'll have a site all his own one day, if I ever find the time and the right lion tamer... but there are the deep thoughts to consider (ego tries to claim them, and may occasionally actually have one, but ego has mostly rather shallow deep thoughts)... a site for short stuff may be in order (if only to shock and amaze {as opposed to shock and awe, I suppose} the multitudes who are convinced that there is no possible way I can say anything in less than a hundred words, no less a single, non-run-on sentence {see my tongue sticking out?... that may be a deep thought from ego} or parenthetic tangents...

ah, there's nothing like a good laugh at one's self to clear the cobwebs... in the absense of a mind-expanding drug, I imagine, genuine loving self-laughter is the best medicine for an ailing mind... even the fog of loneliness can be lifted by the laughter of enlightened awareness (like realizing there's a zillion beings out there feeling very similar feelings and if we'd only stop to smell them, or the roses, metaphorically, I mean, we just might realize we're all in this together and we can actually share more than we do and therein feel a whole lot less alone and isolated, especially during those moments when we feel most unloved, unwanted, or rather like it is winter and you are some useless chachka or art object sitting on some shelf in the seldom used guest house of an empty summer home that rarely gets dusted, no less noticed, than we do)...

but then, I think the key ingredient to the master plan I just chortled over plentifully in the previous paragraph is self-love... in this case I am not referring to masturbation, but caring about self... accepting, nurturing, respecting, and forgiving self... even if everything isn't clear, even if nothing seems clear (that's where the forgiveness comes in big time)... self-love is the best drug of all (I could make some joke about Timothy Leary telling me that on the fifth day of a four day acid trip, but I won't... even though I just did)...

hmmmm... I think I may be having some flashbacks, probably brought on by once again skipping the sleep portion of the circadian rhythm, though it could well be deeper memories resurfacing brought on by short-term memories of reading her so casually writing about lighting up joints... that was (and would still be) my drug of choice (way better than alcohol for my head)... and I might just miss it a bit more than the healthy mind-set that has for so long dominated my psyche (if not my lifestyle, though exercise has returned again) would like to admit... of course I do work a job that does random drug testing and live in a rather over-reactive drug-paranoid state, so I'll probably just leave the possible missing of old highs as a passing fancy and with the amusement of remembering journals dedicated to being under the influence of specific drugs in my sordid writing past...

and looking up at the screen I am noticing the e key sticking again... I could start a diary (I figure I've used the word journal enough and I am here at Dland, after all) for the trials and tribulations of this poor overworked ancient laptop... but that might be taking the whole spawning of spin-off diaries (or journals) a bit too far...

candora

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NOTE: Due to excessive comment SPAM, comments have been turned off... ironically, this month is the renewal for supergold membership and the comments feature... bad timing... you know how much I love feedback, so maybe there's be comments again one of these days... until then, please leave a note... thanks J