AnOublietteofThought

where wisps of words wander in aimless stillness

Fortitude lapses on the furnace of my chill like ripples cascading across an abandoned minefield. All it takes is one surprise snap, and suddenly it's Splash Mountain —arms all akimbo— in feat retracting clamber.

Void of spotlight shenanigans, I sink into the murky peace, and allow the temptation of hesitation to be clobbered by its own path of mutual resistance. Another step of tape-strung prep saving the splay.

It'll be okay. Speed is not for today.

Repetition quotes a diver-tranced “Again!” Pain is my friend. Ascend to the mend. Red lines may welt across this forwarded moment... Uhhhhmmm. ...but I'm fraught with survival, and an excess of laughing matter.

Written August 3, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

I managed ¾ of a mile this morning. It frustrates me to no end, but I'm reminding myself that all movement forward is still movement. I think learning compassion for myself has been one of the most challenging life lessons. It remains ongoing, and likely will continue to do so.

I was once involved with an organization whose motto is “adapt and overcome.” Who knew it'd become a very important mindset in my life. Of course, the definition of “overcome” has gone through its own metamorphosis. Kind of like me.

Chin up, Buttercup! Life may break your body, but your wit and spirit are unconquerable!

Tonight's play... Nothing special. Blobs of chance prancing in shadow. An interrupted contemplation interpreting the figment of release. The long-awaited exhale tingling to expand. Brecciated completeness. A digital mop. Droplets missing from a dried out palette.

Why do I enjoy the freedom of this so much? I would be annoyed in any other media at any other time, but there is pleasure in this. I think it might be because I'm making a mess that I don't need to clean up. I'm really not sure. It's just there, and it can be deleted with the touch of a button and zero guilt.

I talk a big talk about downsizing my studio, but fuck that's hard to do. Everything has potential, and I grate at knowing I'll likely just go and repurchase down the line. I need a mental adjustment.

I know why I'm not investing in making what I want to. It's nothing to share here. It will definitely pass in a positive direction, but I do feel that need to wait. Like the moment just isn't right. I do want to finish the one project, but realistically there's no place for it, and there will be even less of a place for it in the future. I need to come to terms with size. Maybe I just need to come to terms with me...

I got a pink dress today. Pink! A beautiful high/low number with what I call peek-a-boo sleeves. It was available in black. I've worn two colors 99% of the time for the last eight years or so. One of them being black. My closet used to have much more variation than it currently has.

I'm not sure what I feel about the pink. I think those colors represent my softer, more vulnerable side. Am I allowing that out to play again? I'm not sure. I think I might be. I'm really not sure if the pink still exists within. I imagine it could. It currently feels a bit unsettling. I may have moved on from it, but I do know I gravitate towards the pink dress instead of the black. It surprised me. It's something I need to consider.

I am grateful for the opportunity to fumble my way back towards a more complete me. Life often escorts us into roles that we didn't choose, or maybe we did choose them but weren't aware of what that choice would mean. We release little pieces of ourselves, outgrow others, and even have some stolen.

My birthday is in a few months. I don't know why I continue to be surprised by my age. I probably always will be. I feel a major shift continuing to happen. Not just in the world—in myself. Maybe that's why I'm finding such joy in just throwing color on a digital page.

Written August 2, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

Come sit in uncertainty with me. Let us open the door of wonder and dare to welcome what greets us across that threshold. Let's embrace our lack of understanding with a curious awe, and delve into the probability that all we assume to be true is either incomplete or wrong. Unwrap the definition we've limited consciousness to and expand in the glory of our lack of specialness. Are we able to step into the unknown and meet it without terms, and without feeling the need to conquer it. Can we accept that our own definitions are the heavy chains that shackle us in place? Are we able to rise without trampling upon all that has allowed that flight to occur? Dare we to see ourselves less clearly, but with more awareness? Come sit in uncertainty with me... Let's explore.

Written August 2, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

Is it possible to not get singed when in close vicinity of someone determined to commit spiritual self-immolation? I don't know. Trying to release the residue of such an encounter had me doodling this for tonight's digital meditation painting on my phone.

I openly admit that I suck when it comes to painting on my phone, but there's something about the act of doing so that floods me with great relief. Perhaps it is because it's the one media I don't feel bad about mucking up, and I just allow myself to move color around. There is such freedom in that.

While doing so tonight, I realized the expectations I place upon myself are often quite silly and counter-productive. I think I'm going to make myself share more of them here due to that. Not all, but maybe the ones representing an important moment.

There is a person in my life who likes to compare today's me with a me from thirty years ago. With a me who was not comfortable in her own skin, but was determined to be seen in a very specific light. She was not succeeding in the way that I now define success. She was exceptionally good at surviving, and rose to every challenge that came her way. She was miserable most of the time. Terrified more often than not. And mistakes were not allowed. She wasn't someone I'd encourage anyone to be. She definitely did not love herself.

Today, I do. He seems to have a real problem with that. I think it more that he can't stand himself therefore he needs someone to project all of that self-loathing on to. When he decides to go there, it's a massive energy suck from multiple directions, and it always leaves me feeling it in a multitude of ways. I have gotten much better at navigating that.

I wasn't sure if writing this or sharing the doodle was the correct choice. I now find my eyes growing heavy to the soothing sounds of nature I have raining in the background. That tells me the magic of acknowledging is working. I am grateful for the sleepy smile this contemplation has gifted me. Perhaps come morn I will feel much lighter.

Written August 1, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

I like to put parameters into Google and have it present me with a question that I might not come up with myself. It allows me to think about things that I might not normally. Today's question is as follows:

“Imagine a new global law mandates that every citizen must publicly wear a digital badge displaying the exact percentage of how much they actually like the person they are currently talking to.

How would your relationships change? Would you avoid people? Would it destroy polite habits in interactions?”

I am not sure that I'm going to answer these questions exactly, because I think the idea behind them is more intriguing. Psychologically, how would that change us? Could it be a positive change? Could it be a negative change? I think it would be an intriguing change.

We would have to become comfortable in our skin. I suppose it could go the exact opposite way considering how daft we can be, but if a generation grew up from the start having that and not being encouraged to ensure that they succeed in popularity, it could possibly be a pretty positive thing. I mean, unless someone is extremely good at acting, we have an instinct of whether a person likes us or not. We ignore it. This would force people to acknowledge it. But it would also allow people to no longer mask. Perhaps it would allow for greater professionalism. Perhaps it would help us become less insecure. Then again it could force more insecurity upon people with this abundant need to be liked that exists today.

Maybe I should answer the questions as opposed to just letting my mind wander off in a million directions like I tend to do. How would it change my relationships? I think it would make my relationships more honest in some cases, but in others I don't think it would change them at all. If anything it might give the person reassurance that, “Hey I actually enjoy your company.” In the ones where the score might be lower than the other person expects I think it would open up that opportunity to talk about why. Perhaps it would make communication better for most people since we tend to avoid those topics. I think most people are afraid of the answers they might receive.

I rather like the idea, since it would grant opportunity for self-growth. I don't like the idea because I think it would further numb our own awareness. Which perhaps brings about another question as we become more technically inclined. What trade-offs are worth trading off? Is easy access to such knowledge worth the loss of an instinctive comprehension? And would it feed our negative or our positive impulses?

For me, any question that is like this is not about the immediate or secondary or third possibilities. I prefer to look long range and then come backwards from the furthest point out that I can think of. We can't know what shifting any one thing is going to cause because there will be elements that come into existence that we never thought of before, and that will have pivotal changes in our course. But we can ponder beyond the immediate as far as risk versus reward goes and try to contemplate and comprehend the shifts across a wide spectrum.

I think one of the things that would probably happen is people would try to place such a thing on animals and then would get upset if their cat or dog doesn't like them in a moment. I wonder if they would take it out on the cat or dog versus figuring out why. People are so poor at figuring out why and trying to communicate and comprehend a different perspective, that I think it could really bring up some issues across a vast majority of people.

Would I avoid people? I already avoid people. 😹 I don't think it'd have an effect on the number of my interactions. Though from a curiosity standpoint, I would possibly engage with more people just to observe the like/dislike perspective. Yes. I can see how I could become amused by that for a short term if I'm being honest with myself. Reactions would likely sway how quickly I got bored. I find constant engagement with people to be exhausting as is. I think it'd be interesting to see the awareness form between perceived likability/popularity and reality in various persons. It'd also be interesting to witness how that factor might shift and affect things. There's a lot of possible parameters involved. It could be interesting to watch the birthing of awareness.

Would it destroy polite interactions and habits? I think it would evolve them. What would be interesting would be if a person were capable of masking well enough to throw off the measurement. If not, networking would become an absolute riot.

The more I think about it, the more options of what could occur flutter through my mind. It would certainly create a very different world than we live in now. Would it be for the better or worse, I do not know. How adaptable are we at that psychological level? Would it evolve our thinking and perception of others and self? Would it increase popularism or force it into extinction? Would everything lay somewhere in between? Would we have to become comfortable with being uncomfortable? It would be a very exciting experiment to run with persons willing to submit themselves to it. Especially when we consider the lie we tell ourselves of how we are being perceived quite often.

I think the question that I would be even more interested in seeing placed and hearing the response to would be if we looked into the mirror would we then get a result of how much we like or dislike ourself? And if that percentage number was accurate, would it encourage us to shift and like ourselves more? Curiouser and curiouser. I would be interested to see how much I like myself. I think I like myself somewhere around 90% or above. There are a few things that I would like to improve upon, but overall I have learned to be someone who I enjoy. I would like to see if that's true or not. Could I be lying to myself? Oh the questions that this brings up.

How about you? What do you think of such an event? And how much do you like yourself? Do you even know? Dun. Dun. Duuuuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnn...

Written August 1, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

Atop. Beneath. So grinds these teeth on morals written lacking. I chew. I spit. I choke in fits releasing while attracting. Accrued. In debt. Division kept with treatise sanctioned fiction. Diseased. Too clean. Prayed purely obscene I bleed in drowned remission.

Written July 31, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

The latter was written at some point in the last few days. I am currently in a place where my migraine becomes unbearable easily, and I keep pushing myself past the line when I try to figure out how all of this works. This has shown me how I am not very go with the flow on such things. I will get there eventually, but I'm finding the editing, etc a bit off putting. I'm probably not doing something correctly, but I swear this is clunkier than the journals from the 90s. That makes no sense. Hence it likely user error.

-—

How do we burn? In the flickers of yesterday's aggression, or the promise of tomorrow's future? At what point do we stop drowning our children with the obscenities of a wealthy ignorance? When each step is a rattling cage, how can we hear any substance of truth?

Half-blind and jacking off to a false modesty, we bid stupor to the obvious—both oblivious and wise. Little more than puppets on parade to stroke the not-so-cunning disaster. How glorious our stranglehold.

Perhaps we'll get lucky...and choke on it.

Written July 30, 2026 © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

Last night I was caught in that liminal space between waking and dream. It's not uncommon for this to occur when my pain levels are too high but medication is making me drowsy. I dislike it because it becomes impossible to distinguish wakefulness from sleeping. I spent three hours writing a small note to someone. That's what the clock says. I felt it to be almost instantaneous.

My pain levels have been so high that trying to write my weekly journal is almost impossible. I'm simply incapable of remembering much of last week at this time. There's fragments, but little more. I know it will pass, but in this moment my brain is very foggy on recollection. I think I'm in a minor migraine as well. It's just not powerful enough to have my attention. When I concentrate, I can feel it.

I have some things I need to get done, but I don't know if I will succeed. I really just want to go back to sleep. I may give myself permission to write today off and do so. The correct balance is critical, or I'll just make things worse. I am grateful to be aware this is temporary.

I spent years at this level of pain and higher on the daily. It was my norm. I am flabbergasted by that. It is little wonder that at that time I thought living to 50 a sure nightmare. Being past 50, I no longer hold the same belief, but I would not desire to live like this each day. I doubt anyone would.

I think I'm going to go back to sleep for now. I'll probably put Doctor Who on in the background to possibly help influence my dreams. Movies have influenced most of the last poems I have written. I call them pseudo-ekphrastic because I grab words from the physical backdrop of a scene. Very helpful for when the mind's decided language beyond “Ouch!” is unnecessary.

Yes. There's definitely a migraine brewing. Hopefully I will manage to knock myself out before it incapacitates.

Written July 27, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

As caverns crawl with twisted rage my saunter pulls to chain. Think not where dull minds scribe as mage. Reap kindle from thwart's flame.

Bid question, but loom not for choice. Our threads reign slow in might. Nocturne does weep a strangled voice. Still, “Blaspheme!” rues my light.

Written July 26, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

Eclipsed, this bayonet forsworn. Braided in a pity of harmony, and dilapidated to bow, I rise to the sharpness of a monstrous rebuke. Let Fate tsunami against me. I shall swallow every tide with a saccharine smile, and cleave wave after wave of mismanagement into a foundry of foreboding care. Yes, I dare...

That has always been both the problem and the solution.

Written July 26, 2026. © 2026 AnOublietteofThought.

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