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Self-lixiviated by Zombalaya
November 2021

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November 3, 2021

Got ground down watching a sports highlight video. There, as the home run ball soared into the night sky, I only saw one name on the array of multi-million dollar billboard displays in the outfield. Halliburton.

I would laugh out loud but my stomach won't allow it. Evil buried in plain sight. We deserve it.

Soler. Halliburton.
Minute 1:11.

Once I am done with this recently purchased chocolate I am back on the sugar-wagon again. Have to. This is nonsense, how something so simple as sugar can wreck my discipline like said discipline and resolve never existed, or were made of sugar.

Sleeping and napping whenever the mood or need strikes, quick(er) to anger and impatience than normal. These peanut butter, miso and chocolate sandwiches would sell for 12 dollars a pop if I were lazy enough to mass produce them.

Got my dad to come over yesterday and get up on the step ladder to change a couple of light bulbs for me. Today is darker than yesterday, though, outside, so I tend to keep it dark indoors until the later evening. I kind of feel ike I am in a sheltered forest of sorts, right now.

Ate some oatmeal and an egg earlier, then took a nap and ate the rest of the oatmeal. Then I got dressed and drove over to the guitar shop because they called last night, but did not leave a message. Which is fine by me because I most likely would not have even listened to it. I delete my own family's messages if they leave anything under 10 seconds. I delete the rest of them, too. Maybe we can set up some kind of flashing-light relay system across town to let each other know what is up. Kind of like an internet or something.

So I went and picked up my guitar at the shop, which always makes me feel somewhat like a musician. But I'm not, so I shy away from test-driving any of their work. This particular acoustic guitar I have is the first one I bought, 25 years ago now, and this is only the second time it has had any work done on it whatsover. It's not perfect, though.
It does sound better now.

Then I drove over to the Goodwill on the main drag here, looking at women and whatever else. I never know why I feel like I am going to meet some random angel at a thrift store. (I actually probably dodged one once, at a thrift store called The Clock Tower thrift store in Centreville, Va.
Now I have to go find the actual handwritten journal entry I made that day, involving the dream sequence I had the night before and then what absolutely happened the next day...)
(Can't find that at the moment. A definite squirrelish behavior that I have is to juxtapose my journal entries, the ones on paper and bound, sometimes, if I think they are special or whatnot. I am going to find it, though, as it involves the name of a band, Chubawamba, my attraction to the cashier at the thrift store then, trying to match up the cd case with the actual physical cd, and how that was all one giant mindfuck, all with not more than maybe 3 words said, if any. I don't recall any at the moment.)

But back to what I was talking about. The Goodwill store today was a mixed bag, and I found two nice short sleeve shirts. I also walked over to the shelved books section and found an old Webster's Dictionary, most like the one that was in my childhood house. This one is from 1966 (I just checked) and after the table of contents it starts off with a picture of the washington dildo on the left panel, and then a Portrait of the Presidents thing that starts on the right panel/page, starting with LBJ, that mobster from Texax.

My patience with online dictionaries and even wikitionothing is slim these days. This bound copy is "Enlarged from the concise edition," and when my eyes see the words it does something to my brain, because it is the EXACT SAME font and layout as the bound and worn, red in color Webster's dictionary from my childhood. It will be interesting to see what gets unlocked in the coming days to years.
Back to women, though. I am definitely feeling it, this need, now. It has been a long time, over 6 years. When I was younger that would have bothered me, but I have fully enjoyed being celibate and do not feel lonely because of that. Any time I feel lonely it is usually tied up into some feeling of regret, guilt, sorrow, etc. I figure there is no outlet for those other feelings, so loneliness arises (?). I don't know how many times I have sought out, usually unconsciously, the comfort of other people, only to be disappointed ever the more because of it. Of course I have had the opposite experiences as well, when there is a great connection with someone. I have an older aunt that isn't even blood-related to me that I feel this way with. Something about her demeanor and character.

I am not going to get sidetracked this time around, though. There are tons of people that will throw themselves under the lovebus of anyone, just to catch a ride, and that ain't happening on this track anymore. And I am o.k. if there is never another Other.

2 hours later...
Decided to walk over to the new old dictionary that I had pulled out of the plastic bag and left on the card table. Did my "hand" thing (bibliomancy), and the first word my finger finds is "disembody." Eyes not looking into the book, hand wandering, etc.

Things get weirder:
Almost 2 more hours later.
I fell asleep in the recliner for a bit, having gorged myself on the last of the recently purchased chocolates. I had taken the new old dictionary with me to the chair and read the first page or so of entries, starting at A, of course. Then I fell asleep. When I began this process, in the chair, I was listening to a song called "I Loved Being My Mother's Son," which was true when I was younger, around the age when that first Webster's Dictionary meant so much to me, when I was like 10-12 years old.
So I woke back up just now and the dictionary was still in my lap, closed, as I had left it that way. I decided to do another bibliomancy, thinking along the lines of "what else does this have to show me?"

I opened the book randomly, as always, and there was a black ball in the crease, along the inner spine. Where I opened the book to, however that is described. I thought the little ball was a dead insect at first, but as I leaned the book in towards my body, to read better in this weak light, the ball rolled down as well, and I stopped it with my stomach (t-shirt) before it rolled away. I was still mostly on my back.
It seems to be either some kind of tree seed or a store-bought piece of plastic. I can not tell yet.
But, the little ball, which is the size of say, a very large peppercorn (?), but all black, had rolled down the page to only one word: "Understanding." or rather, the entry for the word as, understanding. That's out of say 25 entries on the right-hand page. {Edit: I am now unsure on whether my eyes first opened to the word "understanding" or "understudy," as they (my eyes) were initially following the rolling black ball/thing. The words, down the page, as entries, go: understanding, understate, understudy. 7 entries above "understanding" is the one for "undershot."
Now, there is also one symbol or diagram on the page, the same side, and that is of an undershot wheel, which looks like a navigator's wheel (to me, at least), and is, according to the attached entry, what is said of a water wheel.
My mother was an Aquarius, and I associate such things along those lines, naturally, or superstitiously, perhaps.
She died on January 1, and this upcoming new year it will have been 13 years.
My birthstone is garnet, hers is amythest. What this all means is beyond me.

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