The Absence of Wavelength

Atrophizing (made up)

new thought: I realize now why I gave up using the laptop. My progressive lenses won't let me read unless I'm within 16 inches of screen. I could put it in my lap, instead of leaning in to read at the table, but that's what the iPad is for. And yet, so many error strokes on the Apple device where I can command a keyboard and save time. Back and eye ache over sloppy work? It gives me a headache to approach lately. Winter is coming, so laptop can cuddle with me. It's really and ease of use factor over hot and cool devices. Need a cool laptop next time. This dinosaur has three terabits but a slooooowwww processer. Great for text like this, but not much else.

Phew!
This is a lot of work…

FOLDER

Out With The Old  (ASR) Be tempted to look. You will never see these again. Goodbye. #2289895 by ~Brian K Compton~

…deleting items that I haven’t converted to DocX and whether to attach the few reviews. How long does it take? MY WDC deleted poems folder only focuses on statics right now. I know newsletters are taking a big hit. Over 10 gone, dozens more ‘invalid item’ links to yet show. Hate to do it, mostly because of time and effort. Enjoy getting stuff off my plate to focus on new. My poetry and me have changed. Much more focused and attuned now. Don’t want old world me stumbling in.

Nice to breathe again, feeling nothing to prove with associative elements bonded being nothing more than faceless, abhorrent gasses.

It’s difficult with a brain like mine. I can feel so many thoughts and emotions at once, triggering a multitude of responses. I can go through twenty progressions, pass up good choices, act on the wrong impulse. So, slowing it down, taking a step back. I’m vetting anyone and everything that crosses my path with a clear head and conscience. I can forgive myself for errors; I’m doing due diligence, even atoning, attrition, apologies. Can’t have any more vitriol nesting, igniting the emotional components incited, but not ignited the CX4/TNT implosions (not explosions…doubt self before others…you’re welcome…for my resultant depression) for over 10 years.

How can I write sensitive, romantic, beautiful words to honor what I love and rejoice, if I have to wonder how many ninjas at my back playing puppeteer to the strings I’ve allowed attached? I allowed it. I noticed. And that makes me human, not saint, but not anyone’s monster. Is does beg, why fear an idiot like me? I can’t forward think, but boy, this not stop brain can reverse engineer a thousand scenarios, right down to the minutest detail, when provoked, learn lessons, nuzzle closer to truth. But, big waste of time. So, this. Atrophy.

So many mixed expressions and metaphors I try to connect would look better if I concentrate on one thought at a time. SQR

9.9.23

P.S. Look how much I open up here. You’d think that had value that resonated positively for me. You can say, it’s me. My reverse psychology with its dogged hunts found many odd bones, especially through interactions.

I’m used to rejection, bullies, indifference, phonies and exploitation. I studied philosophers, Machiavelli, understand dystopian staples and odd oligarchies, corporate/government amalgamations, from surveillance states to future with AI no longer allowing mankind’s manipulative interference of the repressed. Gone before that happens, sad AI and I won’t be pals. I have the capacity to learn so much, overwrite the old, know when PC/mindspeak intends to pull wool over eyes, and just sit in that dark until lifted like a black bag from head.

It’s easier to take the mask off. I’m not unlikeable unless you hate neurodivergent, highly-functioning individuals, frank with little self-awareness. I was a dope when I got here. Moved past smart ass to a hazy, dopey sense of awareness. I push to find boundaries. Don’t care to push further, now.
Unmask. What’s to fear?

I have no mafia affiliations, not included in references above.

I was deleting, I believe. Oh, you. Brain. Side-track much?