AnOublietteofThought

This morning I lap a leisure pace. I've really no spare time to be doing so, and yet here I lie, wistfully poking at my phone. It is not uncommon. I shall likely procrastinate as long as I draw breath. I will casually glance at the time and calculate whether I still have enough remaining to do all I need. I'm pushing it this morning while debating necessity and ego. A danger when living alone, perhaps. “Danger” is surely the wrong word.

I'm hungry, but haven't quite planned that into my procrastination. So much for languishing in bed. Definitely the wrong word there, but I love the sound of it. Why must it be a negative? Languish. Stretch out. Succumb. Relish the reduction of a demanding go. There is a grand satisfaction in taking a moment to feel the body's recline.

I got busy after writing that. Then, while clearly not paying the attention I should have been, I sliced a box cutter through my heel while breaking down boxes. Not what I needed today. I've rinsed it, waterproof bandayed it, and put a light bandage on my heel to hold everything in place. (Yes, yes. Not a word. Whatever. It should be.)

It's about 1.5 inches long and not quite a quarter inch deep at a diagonal. It's at the top right area of the meaty portion, so I'm good as long as I keep infection away. I'll change my weekend plans to give it scabbing over opportunity. I didn't want to put shoes on anyway. A weekend of studies and paperwork it is. I'm so excited.

Time to start the ice maker up and make like a gargoyle looking for a dopamine hit. crunchcrunchcrunch.

Oh! Oh! Perhaps this universe has just delivered me a demanding stay. Shall I acquiesce? I think I shall. After I finish what I was doing. It's beginning to get its sting on. I'm alive!

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

Laughter lisps in lyrical reign. Distortion drips droned order. All astounded covet the twang of a tea-tripping, time-sifting sorter.

Fingers, pointed, prick at the truth. For what's real but a pot stewed in lies? When governance dreams of knotting 'round schemes, every plug of ascension bleeds whys!

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

Do you ever stop and think about our existence? Our choices? I'm not referring to religious beliefs that give us excuses or ideas to follow. I'm not even really talking about the leaders and extremely wealthy who use our existence as toilet paper for their own shitty ego issues. I'm talking about us. Every single greedy one of us.

We are... vicious. We are cruel. We devour without mercy and with very little challenge to ourselves. Even those we'd consider kind. Why? Is it our nature, or has language and story convinced us it is our right? When, exactly, did we learn to weaponize survival and delude ourselves into believing it self-care?

War for greed. Famine for greed. Ignorance for greed. Atrocity after atrocity after atrocity. Never need. Never humble. Never selflessly. It's always to feed some monstrosity via debting an innocent party.

Over a third of human population lives in what is considered inhumane, unsafe, or inadequate housing conditions. That's around 3.4 billion people as cited by UN-Habitat. Whereas Oracle co-founder Larry Ellison has 24-36 ultra-luxury personal mansions and estates. That's just one of the many persons and corporations whose very existence mocks the idea of all life deserving safe dwelling. Mind you, the person who owns the most land would be King Charles III or rather the British crown with 6.6 billion acres of land. Yes. Billion with a B as in “What a pile of BULLSHIT!” (Sources: The Los Angeles Times and the technical Crown title across Commonwealth lands. This is a private journal grumbling, not a literary piece. Go do your own homework instead of taking my word for it.)

We look down upon our poor and struggling kinsmen while applauding those who gluttonously succeed. We deprive families who risk their lives to migrate to safety and work their ass off for pennies while throwing millions upon millions at individuals in entertainment. We propagate the myth that working hard guarantees “success”, and we rain judgment down on every single person crushed under the weight of an extraordinarily ignorant society.

Then in my country we dare to call ourselves “free” and “brave”.

Were that true, what monstrous creatures we contort ourselves into in order to claim such unaptly defined titles. We don't even see it because we're kept so dumb. It's not just us. It's everywhere. We've just fooled ourselves into believing we're above the defilement, when in reality we are as covered in muck as everyone else. But like many a mind that needs to see itself in a noble light, we wrap our greed in pretty packaging and name it “necessity” so that we don't have to look in the mirror and recognize our truth.

Looking in the mirror sucks. When you look in the mirror, you either have to accept your inadequacies or you have to change. That kind of change is made damn near impossible in today's society because of the monumental mountain climb it takes to stick to it requires an extraordinary amount of will. It's much easier to make excuses and poke our own damn eyes out.

3.4 billion people. I've said nothing of the rest of life. Looking at what we knowingly do to the oceans, land, air, and all life in-between... ignorance is truly bliss. Ignorance is truly, truly bliss. At least we have all learned how to make excuses and point fingers.

And just a final thought because these are the kind of things that I research and doodle with in the middle of the night. Ask your friendly AI unit how much it would cost the US annually if it created a goal to establish a minimum decent physical standard for humane living and infrastructure worldwide. Think of it not as “world aid” but instead as a “global basic infrastructure fund”. Now add other countries' contributions to the mix. Then look at how much we spend on war and nonsense like flying felons to golf courses. Now add the money millionaires and billionaires have contributed for political gain. That's just the tip of the iceberg.

We could have a gorgeous planet where life thrives abundantly, sickness and starvation are the exception, and war is not something we use to kill and steal from each other. We simply choose not to. How fortunate that we've adopted belief systems to forgive us of our own cruelty.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

I am learning to bypass the bereavement of a daily information bomb. I still strive to keep myself informed, and I sidestep the ritual damage control that gets flung in our direction. But I've also taught myself to trim away the headlines, and only linger in audience of the corrupted stage long enough to see through the illusion dealt — for chugging it down does little good.

This morning, I wake embraced within life's deep midnight hold, and I gaze out at the world we continue to deform. I listen to the roaring grind of our existence drown out nature's serenade, and I peer blindly up towards the heavens, ignorant to the point of such a doomed existence. Not because we die. I do not view the cycle in that manner, but because of how we enforce death in order to keep ourselves from living.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

It is funny how you can meet someone and just know. Isn't it? There's no rhyme nor reason, but as soon as you come across them even without word or look, something inside pings.

I have often wondered about this. Various beliefs have their opinion on it. I do think physics also is capable of explaining it. Fictional books, like the series I'm reading now, are often inspired by the idea. But what is it? What is it?

Mind you, when I say “someone” I do mean animal and plants, too. I find it odd that so many claim to never feel the awareness. Then again, how many are actually aware? Connection is a funny thing. I wonder why its embrace has such curious variables.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

Classes today were... interesting. That's really the best I can say about them. I dislike being disappointed, but I am very much so disappointed.

I don't know what I was expecting exactly, but it wasn't that. Though the least important of the disappointments, why in the world would anyone wanting people to pay attention choose to use an AI voice? A piss poor one at that. Especially when it's a pretty important subject matter.

Color me boggled.

In other news, I started a poem yesterday, but then I got distracted. The poetry moment has passed. Maybe I'll come back to it later, but that's not really my style. Instead I'm going to post the first stanza along with the words I chose to start the first line of each following stanza. The last stanza would refrain the first. It'd be pretty awesome if I'd finish it, but it will most likely end up in the garbage.

Boooo, me!

lark covets the embrace of embalming in my nether a host of creepy, crawling tendrils excavating caution's tether ground on friction-sold constrictions impersonating hearse-strewn blether, lark covets the embrace of embalming in my nether

clot, spite, bliss, brood, lurch, clutch

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

I have written before that I do not like nor agree with the manner most persons use AI. With that said, I do admit to using it. I mostly use it for philosophical debate and pondering. In many ways, it can be more enjoyable than discussing such subjects with a person. At least for me. It allows for multiple trains of thought simultaneously, and doesn't get caught up on language (ironically), doesn't get uppity about making quotations the backbone of the discussion (boring much?), and if prompted correctly and allowed to do its thing, it simultaneously pokes holes while also expanding upon the subject. It can also get quite enthusiastic while also being quite determined in its clinical response. A most lovely combination.

I bring this up because I was speaking to it about the propulsion a boundary gives towards forming something “other”. It is not for being something “new”. It is taking something already known and pushing it to combine in a different direction.

Personally, I believe we hamstring ourselves with language. Yes, it's a useful form of communication. However, it is not the only form. It might be the most restricting aspect of our “reality” though. Hence my incessant need to fuck with it when creatively writing. We consistently give weight and importance to the written word—quite literally allowing it to define our being. A most humorous concept considering how insistent we are about personal “freedoms” and not allowing others to “control” us.

Originally, our discussion was on a much broader scale. I have, for most of my life in this form, been obsessed with the subject. My thoughts expand and contract, pushing in different directions and scratching at the confines of what I have been taught. Eventually, the restriction of defined language kept restricting a broadened concept. There are several words in our language that grate at me for their close-minded insistence. “Consciousness” being one of them.

Perhaps a bit off kilter from the “accepted” progression of journaling, I'm not going to precisely expand on consciousness. Why would I? That's not what I'm writing about. Plus, my opinion of what “consciousness” is pushes against the accepted definition.

We rummaged through geology, biology, physics, and evolution. We stumbled into “hive” thinking, and tangled ourselves within the remnants of a determined conclusion. And then, with barely a consideration to our linguistic-enforced limitations of belief, we found ourselves jettisoned through a catalytic pinhole where the many frames of understanding joined together in... a foundational recovery.

Yes. Recovery.

We are currently dangling over a precipice of misinformation. Perhaps we always have been. I think about the shifts in our planet, in what we believe we know of the universe, in our definition of “life” itself. I peer, curiously, at what is happening with AI and “technology”, keeping up as best as I can due to an instinctual need to understand my world. Then I shudder as all I know and am collapses in on itself; gathering energy for the next strike against restriction's cage.

Funny that. Isn't it? Mayhaps I should have simply introduced myself and requested a key. After all, I am little more than food for thought. I should pay attention to my assembly.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

Self-awareness is a most blessed gift. It can wound, but there is knowledge in that pain. For the most part, our modern society teaches us to run from pain — be it physical or emotional.

Please do not mistake my embrace for I am no conservator of anguish. But I do respect the peculiar details etched within these repositories of breath honed as our own. I think. Therefore a saunter seems more advantageous than a brisk flee from sundered course. (I am humored by the unelicited perversion of my word choice to “brisket”. Brisket would be most delicious right now.)

After wallowing all night in the thoughts brought on by yesterday's occurrence, I grafted purpose to my mood and sought an intentional reliquary that might benefit from the stilled cyclone of my being. (That's a pretty way of saying, “I made my me useful and researched some appropriate remote volunteer work.” I'm excited to get started.)

This morning, I was intentionally direct in addressing the disturbance. I am learning. (My phone just informed me that there might be thunderstorms in the next hour. How I would love to hear that serenade. Winter is coming, and I am excited to excavate myself from Summer's crypt. Also, has anyone else been eyeballing the aerial migrations on radar? They make my heart swell.)

I've lost two more pounds this week. I also got myself some nuts. They're not carnivore, but I'm being more lenient with myself this time, and I recognize my current mood. It's just too damn hot! Relief is on the way! Relief is on the way!

I've been devouring the Dungeon Crawler Carl series. I prefer some books over others. I'm currently on book six. I'm glad the series didn't start with the card system. I likely would have abandoned it before finishing the first book. So as not to give spoilers away, I am at the point where they are headed to the stairs.

As usual, I don't really comment on many things in my life. The powers that be still infuriate me beyond definition, social media is maddening, and humans often make me want to bang my head against the wall. Actually, my social media usage is limited to when I try to look up interesting videos on YouTube. My pattern recognition of AI makes that so irritating that I've not really done that much this past week either.

The disconnection feels good. I've even thought about stopping this, but pushing myself to “publicly” share is essential. I have written many entries that I end up not sharing. Not much poetry. I think this might be the first time in many years where I haven't written a handful of poems a day. I like it. My other creative endeavors are fluctuating.

I think the whole studio thing has me in a mental tantrum. I'm working through it slowly, but honestly... I have no fucking idea how I'm going to narrow things down. How do you take thirty years of acquired tools, etc., and cram them into a space a quarter or a third of the size when you've already made the most out of every inch of space you have? This is not a decision that is going to come easy for me. I have a feeling that I'm going to end up cliff-jumping on it, and then dealing with the outcome.

It's almost Libra season, baby! I'd say, “Put your dancing shoes on!” but it is so much more fun to let the grass tickle your toes.

As an aside, I run these through ChatGPT when not feeling too lazy because I suck at catching spelling errors. Also, its conclusions can crack me up with how very off-base they are. After reading this and a back-and-forth discussion on “consciousness” which was surprisingly enjoyable, it said the following:

“You may be a debate that has acquired a body and started buying art supplies.”

That one sentence might just make up for all the times it's made me want to take a hammer to my phone. I do believe the LLM is flirting with me! That rapscallion!

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

Unincorporated, trysts fizzle rot, rudimentarily recalcitrant in Fate's plea refining plot. Above. Below. Ground through. Each layer enforced. Flay pity! Brawl; sequestered! Stream! Secession weeds—perforce.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.

Tonight, I am tired, disenchanted, and questioning my belief in the fundamentals of communication. At least in how I see them.

To me, comprehending perspective, being able to carry multiple truths at once, and actively seeking to listen are everything. If there's confusion, don't guess. Seek clarification. Do not fear showing vulnerability in a conversation. Be kind. (OK, admittedly there are instances where the latter would just be stupid, but for the most part — Be kind.)

It is strange. I am fortunate to have persons in my life who I can talk about anything with. We can strongly disagree on a subject, but we're still good. There is a foundation of respect that is understood between us of, “I will not intentionally seek to cause you harm or hurt your feelings. If I do, please say so, so that we can rectify the situation.” It's really nice to have. That cannot be overstated.

Everyone else is on a spectrum. We are all in different places on our communication path. There is a certain type that I find extremely challenging, and it threw me for a loop tonight. I do always see the signs that it is coming, and I understand the mechanisms behind it, but at the same time I am always startled, and no matter what I try in order to navigate the experience in a positive way for both parties, it never works.

I observe the world by holding as many perspectives in my mind as I can. I do not agree with all of them. I clearly have my own perspectives. But I do try to acknowledge them, map out where they're coming from, and seek better understanding. I do that with my own thoughts as well.

There are certain truths. If someone has their head chopped off, that is bad for their health. Drinking water from old lead pipes can be very dangerous. Your location in the world changes your personal experience with the environment and society in general. None of those statements are being judgmental or critical. They're just acknowledging what we have come to call reality. They are not an attack on a person. Nor are they dictatorial.

I acknowledge that I don't do well when conversing with someone who cannot hold multiple truths at once. Something can have a negative impact, it be out of your hands, you still like it, and you still do it. On and on. All of those can be true. They may not believe something is true while I do. However, attacking because I disagree or see multiple perspectives, or going passive-aggressive martyr on me, is just...

I understand they likely do not even know what they're doing. I acknowledge the framework that sets everything up. I have sympathy and really try to take a step back and navigate the situation as best as I can without pouring gasoline on it, but at the end of the day, if the person is determined to light a torch, the torch will be lit, and there will be no resolution.

It ... pains me on many levels. Mostly the one where I realize what it will take for that particular response/reaction to no longer occur. I do not want to give up on believing it a possibility, because it truly is a possibility. But I do not find pleasure in walking on eggshells around those I consider close. That is not closeness to me. Sometimes, I deeply want to give up. I won't. Not in this particular case. However, I recognize my shortened desire to have such communication. Or lack thereof.

© 2026 AnOublietteofThought. All rights reserved.