Trying For An Actual 'Log'

Okay so this place is supposed to be a 'Web log.' A place collecting a record, a series of more or less chronological notes of something. Maybe someone's life, maybe something else like a set of ideas being unfolded -, maybe even someone just unfolding their thoughts over time just as they go along, not everything all thought out beforehand.

Someone asked something quite interesting privately just the other day - namely, is there some kind of mechanism that you use...? They didn't actually use the exact word 'mechanism' and I'm using it to convey the idea of something outside of the individual's own personality, something transferable and objective, but then, automatic I guess; something which automatically 'opened some kind of door.'

...I think this will feature in the new
'story.'
It's just a story, right.
No need to be afraid of anything.

Well yeah...

So anyway let's do an actual 'blow-by-blow' real log then, afterall. Never have done it before.

Right now I know that physically I am fairly exhausted. I've been doing some programming from the ground up. And that is exhausting. What takes it out of you is the riskiness, the fact that there is no guarantee you will succeed -, that you will attain the kind of result that you were really looking for. 

I'm not ever exhausted while I am doing these kinds of things, only afterwards, when it is over and it really was successful. Because then you can drop the adrenaline needs and go back to um, 'being normal.'

I do not like being 'normal.' ...Do not like living in the normal state of 'being human.'

And this is the principal reason of all of them, that I force so hard to get back to situation that I was more naturally and 'mindlessly' involved in when I was a tiny child and living, literally not just at the foot of the deep jungle, but in the jungle because it had grown right into the old Sultan's horse training racetrack and Chief Steward's house - where my family were then living.

There was no one of any account around there and so there were no witnesses who could say anything and be believed.

This is for you, Bill.
Coming soon.

My parents of course knew, and so did various uncles and aunts and cousins.

But it was a long time ago, Star Trek had not yet even been made...

People were different then. So, my mother - who was well into her late forties - had an alien child. So what.

LOL

Me, I have spent my whole life (at least initially) trying to fit in, trying to pretend that I am pretty ordinary.

Anyway, don't worry about any of that. Just follow what is happening right here, right now:

Right now I have (had; I took it off) an SKG electronic neck massager on. I dunno how it works. Could be TENS, not even sure. 

Anyway I know that it automatically shuts itself off in fifteen minutes.

But here's the thing see. I had made some of that 'Persian Star Fairy' drink, and I have some specially-designed music ready to go. And I am trying to write something to tack onto the end of something which is a long screed about AI, and it's all very dreary and not even that technical. 

'Hitchhiker's Guide' said owning 
a digital watch was the secret to
happiness in the Universe.
Other John - John A. - told me
that today, Bill.

The thing I want to tack onto the end is upbeat, uplifting, and more about what I have been doing these last few days - which is mainly eating incredible food...

I want to write this in honor of one of the two girls who remixed that last Brian Transeau 'Kintsugi' track. Really amazing work. 

So...

Suddenly the neck thing switches off.

No way. Cannot be already fifteen minutes. Come on!

What happened?

Did time slip, speed up, what?

Did something happen?

Where's my drink gone?

WTF.

There's none of it left. I don't remember drinking it. I touched it, yeah.

But I can't remember drinking all of it.

...Okay now I'm going to play that track (it's the one below, so you can join me/join in/join in the experience, maybe).

What experience?

The room is (was) not really swirling around, or spinning around. But it did feel as if there was this pure clear, clean slightly bluish thick 'water' with strange bubbles in it everywhere around me, engulfing me. But now I can breathe!

'Bring Bliss' - really super nice guy.
Music producer. Made the song down below.
Dmitriy...
Good job, dude.

Before, in the 'normal' the air was a strain to me.

Now I can breathe.

I am being literally shot through with dozens of laser lights, like sharp blasts, but then like a shower, and not anything painful or dangerous or frightening.

This is people talking to me, communicating, but not the way people do down on Earth.

There are bits and pieces of conversations, but these are also the important bits and pieces; the rest is just a warm flow over me, through me too.

I find I can turn the volume up really loud.

OMG - it happened again. I know how long this track is, but suddenly I have to go back to the beginning because it hit the end without me having heard anything in between!

It seems I am here and then not here; somewhere else, and then back to here in a split second.

...I am in the entry hall - which is open to the sky, to the air, to nothing - of my home which is in a really tall, bronze-colored skyscraper tower among a whole lot of other ones. It's some kind of amazing futuristic city.

My maid is there. And she looks mildly shocked: 'What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be light years away somewhere else right now?'

'Yeah yeah.' I tell her. 'I'm only here for a few moments. I'll be back later.'

I am very very tempted to go pick up one of those 'craft' with the massive data connection systems patched into them - and go fly around the musicians and see what they are doing right this instant.

This is Steve Hughes - Australian
musician and comedian.
At the Roisin Dubh.

This city is run by a machine.

Well -, no. There is a machine looked after by all of us but it implements a bunch of automated systems and processes.

Can I grab a craft? 

Am I allowed to for this kind of frivolous thing...

But it isn't frivolous though, is it?

***

Such unassuming people. So unaffected. They do not even think that they are brilliant. They are amazingly brilliant.

They are thanking PVD.

And Vandit Records.

There is a feeling of people wanting to help other people. People hurt, people in danger, people suffering, people in privation. That is what motivates these women...

Interesting.

I did not know that.

I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a highly polished full-length glass door panel. Steve Hughes with long Elven ears and weird eyes. But slick, streamlined, futuristic, and not old.

One of them is attracted to Hughes. She saw him at Roisin Dubh.

That is so funny.

To me.

'The Black Rose.'

Oh Danny Boy, the pipes the pipes...

Means the doorway beyond life; at least, beyond this life - this human life.

I am more the black blade, not the black rose.

Danny Boy was composed by fairies - as you know. That is, the human writer said so himself.