“George and I will miss your company.”


With all the infamous misogynists being called out on their horrific behavior, I’ve been feeling lots of things.  Anger, of course.  I’m also proud of the people who are coming forward to share their experiences as a result.  Since humans aren’t too keen on allowing their fellow humans to maintain their free will, I figured I’d create a solution in keeping with this mindset, (even if it’s just art.)

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if nobody had to worry about being objectified and abused by others?  Where such behavior had swift and clear consequences?  Where seeking justice for such treatment resulted in justice rather than further attacks and retaliation?  Where shame is assigned to the perpetrator rather than their victim?  I want to live in that world.

p.s.  You can click the image to view it at full size.


Once, to a dog. He licked himself and left the room.

My left ear hurts.  I’m running a low-grade fever and just spent several minutes trying to remember why I entered the kitchen.  I also sound like Peppermint Patty, so I think I have an ear infection or something.  I’ll run it off tonight.  I didn’t sleep well last night.  I had stress dreams I forgot immediately after awakening, but the anxiety lingered.  I converted it into hyperactivity.  It’s better than feeling anxious, but the cost will show up tomorrow when the bruises appear.  I’m stuck in walking like I just learned how mode, so I’m bumping into everything.  I’m moving like my toon in World of Warcraft.  (I suspect I hold some sort of server record for most times dying from accidentally falling off shit.)  I’d better burn this off while running outside.  Staying on the treadmill while running is out of reach today.

I prefer running outside. However, the mosquito situation sucks when you run on bike trails that hug a river.  I have repellant, but it reeks.  I guess that’s better than skeeter bites.  My imagination usually suggests I may have bed bugs when I’m covered in skeeter bites and itchy while falling asleep, (despite my weekly linen rotation and daily bathing routine.)  My imagination is an asshole.  As an African American, I’ve never had head lice, but I’ve heard all about it.  (Most African Americans have square hair follicles.  North American lice affect round hair follicles.)  I guess it’s worth having hairs so thick they can defy the wind.  My imagination fucks with me about lice, despite this.  Hell yeah, I rub oil on my scalp to prevent itching from dry skin.  Still, my imagination has the gall to suggest I may be suffering from trichotillomania.  Ass. Hole.  🤣

I’ve been painting on my new iPad Pro with the Apple pencil.  Dear Wacom, thanks for everything, but I’ll no longer be needing your tools.  My iPad Pro made your company obsolete.  I’ll always remember our time together over the years before this innovative smack-down occurred. Buh-bye, now.  P.S.  Microsoft Surface line, too. Tut tut.  There’s an app that utilizes the iPad Pro as an outstanding wireless drawing tablet for your Apple machine.  Other apps allow you to use it as a standalone drawing tablet that far surpasses existing (consumer) drawing tablets.  As an Adobe Creative Cloud user, the Photoshop app was free, (included in rental.)  I got an outstanding drawing/painting app for $4.99.  (In the App Store, look under featured apps for the iPad Pro.)  I’m donating my Wacom to a public school art teacher.  (It’s still an excellent learning tool.)

I’m going to purchase another iPad clamp holder like the one I got for my drum kit.  It will allow me to adjust the position of the iPad as I paint, so it’ll replicate an easel on my desktop.  Actually, I think I’m just going to use the one I have now, and add a Bluetooth adapter to my drum kit.  I only use it to play along with music, so a dedicated resting place (for my phone) is unnecessary.  I forgot how easy it is to spend several hours painting.  I have a quirk that won’t allow me to listen to music while I paint.  I’m starting to think it’s a feature rather than a quirk because it prevents me from painting for too long.  Yep.  Going with a feature.  I’m having caffeine withdrawal.  (It took an embarrassing amount of time to figure out why I’ve had a headache for two days.)  I might have to do something I never thought I would do.  I might have to start drinking coffee. (It’s the only non-retail source of caffeine I can acquire.)

I like the smell of coffee beans, but I don’t like hot beverages.  (Not even hot chocolate with a gazillion marshmallows.)  It means I’ll have to acquire a taste as an American.  This is against everything I stand for!  It doesn’t make sense to repeatedly imbibe something that isn’t immediately delicious in a first world country!  Why have taste buds at all?!  (Calm down, Alison.)  Iced sugar water with enough coffee to prevent headaches, it is.  Sigh.  Dear Mountain Dew, I’ll always remember our time together.  You should divorce Pepsico and buy back all your stock.  Employee owned businesses are edgy.  Peace, out.  I should make a cape with my remaining Wonder Woman fabric.  Yep.  This is happening.  I’m off to make the ultimate empowering playlist for my run later.


I don’t have any money, but I have these.

I’ve been feeling overwhelming surges of creativity.  It’s awesome, in a way.  But it’s frustrating because I’m too inundated with noise.  The realization I’m wasting valuable inspiration made me panic, which wasn’t helpful.  So I’m taking drastic measures to get myself right as fast as possible.  I’ve fasted today except for water and a handful of pistachios.  (I have Graves Disease, so I allow tiny amounts of fat and protein, and pistachios are perfect.)  Feeling hungry is the only way I know how to grab hold of inspiration when my head is too loud.

Earlier, I went online to look for a portable amp for my bass.  Unfortunately, I was immediately distracted by fabulous, shiny, expensive guitars (I have no business even wishing for at my current skill level.)  Tangent:  I’m almost positive there’s an unwritten rule regarding instruments.  The finest ones belong to the most skilled players.  It’s like a musicians creed or something.  If you step up to play, and your instrument is so beautiful, every artist in the vicinity gasps, you’d better bring it.  I’ve not actually witnessed an instrument being confiscated by a better musician, but I suspect it’s happened.

I’ve had a recurring dream in which I acquired a Stradivarius violin.  I carried it with me everywhere because I wanted to hear how it sounded in various environs.  Then I ran into another violinist who admired the Stradivarius and asked if he could play it.  I always say yes, and he plays it so beautifully I begin weeping.  It ends there, but I awaken with the heaviness of loss each time.  I cry because I’ve never heard anyone play so well, and also because everything within me knows it’s his violin.  /Tangent

So anyway, I didn’t find an amp.  I guess I don’t need one.  😂  I have no idea how much time I spent drooling over $15k+ guitars, but it was fun.  I’m glad to know they exist.  Then I practiced my drums, guitar, and bass.  I’ve discovered I have to slow down on building endurance with my drums.  When I get tired, I get sloppy.  When I get sloppy, I get blisters.  So I practice for an hour, then move on to the next instrument.  I practiced on my acoustic guitar for a while, then my bass for about 20 minutes.

I’ll practice it longer when I learn some music.  For now, I just do scales, a few riffs, and done.  I decided on using my index finger first but ended up using my middle finger because it felt more natural.  It resonates so much it made me start feeling a bit numb.  I love the deep sound.  I’ll be glad when I can play faster.  The riffs in my head need me to hurry up and improve my skill.

I’m going to stretch outside after my run in the morning.  Here’s something you might not know:  Literally touching the ground with your bare feet can help silence the noise in your head.  Not cement, I mean grass or dirt or sand.  You’re welcome, says Ms. Literal.  😂  I’ve never been in the ocean, (and have no plans of ever doing such a thing.  Release the Kraken.)  However, I think it’s an even more powerful means of accomplishing the same thing.  The best part is you don’t have to get in.  You can watch the waves, or listen to them, and smell the ocean air.

The Badlands (and other former seas) work especially well, too.  I spent a lot of time as a teenager laying on the purple ground looking up at the pink and orange rock formations.  I didn’t understand why it called to me at the time.  I just knew it was the only place I’d found where I could experience peace.  I have a shitload of poems about The Badlands from that time.  They’re funny to read sometimes because I don’t remember ever being so deep.  I was so emo.  😂  Oh yeah!  A full moon is also a powerful means, (but you have to actually go outside.)

I can’t even tell if I’m inspired to paint, or compose, or what.  It’s like having an itch I can’t scratch.  But I need to stop focusing on the problem and get back to fixing it.  I’m off to meditate.  Stay hungry, my friends.


Signals, Jerry. Signals.

This image was banned in Russia today.  Putin is terrified of homosexuality.  So weak and pathetic.  I’m disappointed by Putin.  I gave him undeserved credit as an evil mastermind when in actuality, he’s just another thug.  First, he decided to use 45.  Any plan that relies on 45 will fail.  45 is likely in the early stages of Alzheimer’s, and even that doesn’t fully explain his gross incompetence.  Bannon could drop dead at any moment from alcoholism.  And Putin the Gay Clown is now art.  The GOP sold out America for a fucking clown controlled by another clown.  Sad!

Do women know about shrinkage?

Content Warning:  This post contains graphic descriptions of obscene artwork.

I’ve slept well the past few nights.  I normally consider 4-6 hours a good night, but I’ve been enjoying 6-7 hours.  Aside from feeling pretty disoriented when I look at the clock, it’s good.  I wonder if we did something in therapy that eliminated one of my sleep demons.  If so, yay.  If not, who cares, this is awesome.  I’ve also felt tired, which is odd considering I’m on a running break.  I’ve substituted running with gaming.  I really enjoy doing the daily quests in Draenor with all 3 of my level 100 toons.  I have a hunter, a paladin, and a monk, so they’re quite different to play.  The hardest part is remembering that I’m not on my tank on 2 of my toons, and going in like an over-militarized police force.  It’s gotten me killed plenty of times.

I’m starting to feel a nagging urge to create some art again.  Last time, I think I did a song.  Maybe this time I’ll try doing a graphic in Photoshop.  I’ve had quite a few pass through my mind that amused me.  But some could have gotten me in trouble again.  Apparently obscenity in art is in poor taste, even when it’s the point of the piece.  The last time I got in trouble, I created a graphic and uploaded it to my DA account.  I got feedback, and then reworked it with a more realistic appearance.  The first one may still be there for all I know.  The second one got taken down, and I got a digital scolding.  I have no idea why metaphorical mirrors are offensive.  What I created was an image of a flat world map superimposed over buttocks.  The Middle East was positioned directly in the crack of said buttocks.  Draped in an American flag, was an erect penis, positioned to penetrate the Middle East.

In my opinion, my graphic accurately reflected the political status quo not only at the time that I created it, but ever since, as well.  I was told it was obscene.  I wholeheartedly agree.  It is obscene.  What I don’t understand, is why my metaphorical graphic is obscene, but literally doing the same thing in life is acceptable.  And don’t get me wrong.  I wasn’t making any sort of reference to homosexuality.  I was doing what I do best.  I was being literal.  I don’t care where you stand on the political scene, the indigenous people affected by the displacement and violence are getting fucked.  We even created a scandal when literally handing them US cash to pay for our (crimes?), in what seems from the outside, to be an act of desperation.  It could be a brilliant move, for all I know.  I don’t have enough information to be certain.  My point is this; even our government is acknowledging that these people are being fucked, and is giving them money to compensate for it.

In America, that’s how an institution apologizes.  So that’s why it seems desperate to me.  But my time in the service taught me that the information given to civilians via TV news networks and stations is decided by the Pentagon.  I don’t object.  I was astonished when I found out, though.  Everything on the news in USA is created with the assumption that our enemies are watching, and is shown accordingly.  There are other agendas in there, too.  I’m looking at you, R.  “I sure hope you don’t install Trump as POTUS”, she said, cynically.    I just quoted myself and find it amusing.

I’m in a weird mood.  I blame the not running.  Usually I think all my goofiest, wildest thoughts while running, and then I don’t share them.  My weird is leaking!  I finally went over to the office to pick up my packages.  I had more there than I was expecting, and spent a while unboxing, and flattening the boxes for recycling.  I got some new glasses cleaning solutions and microfiber cloths.  I have a really hard time keeping my glasses clean.  The problem is that I can’t see clearly enough without my glasses to be able to inspect them after I attempt to clean them.  I’ve tried in all sorts of lighting, but they’ll look clean, and then when I put them on, things look a bit hazy.  I think it’s oil from my fingerprints on the lens, and I’m merely smearing it around.

So I ordered a few different types of lens cleaning solution, because the Windex I already had didn’t help at all.  It made it a lot worse, in fact.  I cleaned my glasses with dishwashing soap and hot water, then used one of the solutions.  It didn’t help at all with the microfiber cloth.  But when I used a Kimwipe or 10, they finally got clean and as clear as I can get them.  Next time I get glasses, I’m not getting any of those coatings on my lenses.  It makes them so hard to clean.  I want fingerprint-proof glass on my glasses and all my device screens, please.  We should be using micro projected light waves instead of solid surfaces for both, anyway.  There shouldn’t be anything solid inside the frames of my glasses.  I wonder how much longer we have to wait.

I found out a lot of information about my new place in Denver today.  I thought it was going to be finished completely by the end of August.  I was mistaken.  I didn’t account for waiting on permits and inspections, or some such.  I wasn’t even given new estimates.  They don’t think I need to worry about a late December move-in date.  They’re sure it’ll be completed by then.  But they always followed that with a reminder that they have no control over how long certain aspects will take.  So I was almost grateful.  I did order a new sit/stand desk.  It’s bamboo with black legs, and has a 4 position memory on the lift and lower panel, so I can save my favorite 4 desk heights.  We’ll see if I can come up with 4 favorites.  I’m skeptical.  Two will probably suffice.

I’m a little excited about it, because it’s my first non-Ikea desk in what feels like a long time.  I do love Ikea, but I’ve come to an age where owning fewer things of more lasting quality is what appeals.  I’ve evolved as far as what objects I treasure.  I mean, I’m sure everyone does over time…  I can feel that I’m starting to grow away from urban vinyl collecting.  I haven’t purchased a new one in several months.  I still do KidRobot.com and Tokidoki.it fly by’s on occassion.  But the urge to buy anything is gone.  I think it might have to do with the fact that I got what to me is the ultimate figure.

I think my interest is moving more toward action figures instead.  I definitely want 2 Leia’s.  One as the Princess, and one as the General.  The one in the white robe, not the gold bikini.  That character has a lot of meaning for me.  It was the first time I realized women can go to space, and be political leaders, and lead rebellions, etc.  It blew my mind in a good way.  It expanded my horizons at a young age.  I don’t recall ever feeling like anything I wanted to do was out of my reach.  So, yeah.  I dig Leia a lot.  Science fiction is a big part of my life, and has been since I was 12, and my brother gave me a copy of Dune.  I couldn’t identify a Kardashian in a lineup, but I can tell you the plots of over 10 different stories about Mars, and which details are scientifically based, which were purely imagined at first, and are now reality based, and other such fascinating things.

I could talk about science fiction novels almost as much as I could talk about computers.  Talking about the things I love is one of my favorite things to do in the world.  But it’s rarely appropriate.  When I do get a chance, I cherish every moment of it, though.  Then when I feel the urge to do it again, but don’t have the opportunity, I can play back a previous time in my head.  I haven’t met very many people who love computers as much as I do.  No, wait.  That’s not actually accurate.  I don’t know very many people who enjoy listening to me talk about how much I love computers.  Bullseye.  And on that morose (by Blythe Milby) note, I’m off to read.

buzzcut season

I watched Sisters again.  That movie is so funny.  It wasn’t as crude as Bridesmaids, but just as hilarious.  I loved the cast.  Samantha Bee is in it, too.  Tina Fey and Amy Poehler portray generation x so honestly.  They do shit you did when you didn’t think anyone was watching.  My face hurt from smiling and laughing so much.  It’s absolutely going into my depression box.  I’ve been having a great time on the staycation end of my vacation.  I’ve also been sleeping since I got back from Denver.  Regular, nightmare free, sleep.  Each time I awaken, I sit there for a moment and bask in the wonderful feeling of being well rested.

This feels like my default.  My garrison.  This is the “me” that I strive for when I’m struggling.  I’m normally pretty happy.  Somewhere between the giddiness just before delivering the punchline, and on the verge of laughing.  I’m aware of my surroundings, but they’re muted enough to ignore effortlessly.  I feel creative urges, bordering on compulsions.  If I engage in any activity surrounding my interests, I begin to hyperfocus almost immediately.  I’ve been rocking and pacing a lot, but not like a drone.  While I’m stimming, I’m also brainstorming.  I either brainstorm about algorithms, or I brainstorm about creating something.  Like a poem, song, digital painting, or short story.

What I love the most about my default, is that it’s me at my almost best.  It’s like running at 80% speed in progressive intervals.  It trains you to push your 100% effort for longer.  It builds me up.  It’s awesome.  I’m loving my time here.  I know it’s temporary.  Sometimes, I push myself to my 100% best in order to achieve a goal I’ve set for myself.  I don’t do this very often.  I try to make it really count, when I do, though.  I’d rather get 3rd place most often, and go for 1st place when it matters most to me.  It’s a lot like a self esteem exercise you’d get in therapy.  Identify what you really want, then go after it with everything you have.  Put the mission first at all times to avoid getting distracted.

Eventually, the Depression Monster will come to call again.  Anxiety likes to try and make me her bitch on a daily basis, but I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping her in check.  Running is my best weapon against both.  Swimming is an alternative.  It’s probably better in that it makes my body strong all over.  Running requires additional exercises to prevent injury.  But it’s the most flexible.  After that, all I really have is distraction.  I have a depression box full of activities I normally enjoy.  I have a canister I decorated, and filled with small papers with activities written on them.   I draw one out, and just do it.  I have a sign on the wall next to the shelf with my depression box that says, “Just Do It”.  It’s a Nike ad, but it works for me.  If you insert, “just do it”, as a rebuttal to every argument with yourself as to why you can’t do something, it works every time.

Here’s a little something no one tells you about depression:  It makes you dumb.  You’re just so distracted by the chemical warfare going on in your brain that you can only focus on clear, short commands.  You don’t want to do them, but you can if you push yourself.  It’s incredible, the amount of effort it takes to do one simple task, when depressed.  So when you push through, and do it anyway, you just kicked the Depression Monster in his junk.  Each time you push a little further, you deliver him another blow.  But he’s a trickster.  Don’t fall for it when he tries to make a truce.  He’s really trying to trap you into accepting meh as good enough.  It’s not.  Meh sucks.  Meh is a depressed stupor in which you can function, but can never quite remember why you bother.  Fuck meh.  Aim for your default.  Your place where you feel most like yourself.  The depressed you is an imposter.

I know some people hate it when others claim it’s possible to fight depression with sheer will.  All I can state is that it’s possible for me to do so.  I have PTSD, and depression is a major part of it for me.  I have never experienced the depression of someone else, for obvious reasons.  In many cases, there are commonalities among those with the diagnosis, and this allows us to share what methods in fighting it prove successful.  Often, they are helpful to many people.  But I acknowledge the fact that there are exceptions, and I don’t want to imply that what works for me will work for everyone.

The more time I spend learning about diversity among humans, the more I recognize the mistakes I’ve made in the past.  I regret them, and am learning new ways to be respectful to other humans.  While I personally have a no malice, no foul policy, I don’t assume others do.  I don’t want to hurt anyone without realizing it.  It sucks ass when someone is insensitive to you for a reason you have no control over.  It hurts.  I can cope with it, but I can’t assume everyone else can as well.  So I’m interested in learning ways to avoid it.

One thing I want to note to other Autistics and similar who try weed, is that  you should remember to stretch before going to sleep.  Our proclivity for remaining in the same position for a good bit of time is magnified by weed.  I sat at a 45% angle for no apparent reason at some point, and didn’t move until my abdominal muscle spasmed.  The next day, I was so sore.  Mostly my neck, shoulders, and stomach muscles.  But my joints were sore, too.  I sit on my legs, and don’t move for a long time when doing activities.  They go to sleep, and then pain settles into my joints.  Most people move when they fall asleep.  Weed messes with your ability to communicate with your body a little.  Nothing frightening, just a heads up for when you wake up a little sore.  It’s so worth it.

You’re killing independent George!

I’m shopping with my sister.  I’ve spent most of the time on Twitter, thank goodness.  I don’t hate shopping, I just prefer to do it at a store that sells computer hardware and electronics, or musical instruments and accessories.  I’ve been wearing my headphones the whole time.  My Shure 840’s, not some unobtrusive earbuds.  It seems to me that it’s not possible to stand out in NYC, which is one of my favorite aspects so far.  I spent lots of time earlier trying to get my sister to accept that Bernie Sanders is a much better candidate for POTUS than any of the others running.  She was hoping to vote for Jeb Bush.  Sigh.  I did get her to admit that he’s a better option than Trump or Cruz.

Her generation still thinks of communist democracy as too close to communist.  It started our discussion on the differences, and the fact that corruption ruins any form of government.  After showing her screen shots of facts about Denmark, I think I made some headway.  However, she asked me to focus on something else for a while.  It reminds me of when I was in high school, and was on the debate team.  I was a good debater, but best at extemporaneous speech.  This amuses me, considering I can’t even talk out loud when I’m burned out.  The first time I won a plaque for extemp, I remember how shocked everyone was on the bus ride home.  Our debate coach was the most surprised, but he entered me every time thereafter.

I was only on the debate team in the first place because my Mom insisted I take that instead of regular speech class.  I was dreading them both, but in hindsight, she knew what she was doing.  We had breakfast at some fancy restaurant this morning.  I felt awkward.  I have zero appreciation for luxury that serves no purpose aside from appearances.  It just feels ridiculous.  Children are starving down the street, and we’re eating overpriced pastries.  What a fucked up world we live in.  I like all the walking in NYC.  I’ve seen some pretty nice murals, and even some nice tags.  I bet there’s an artist within 100 feet of me at all times.  That alone explains the city’s appeal.  At least to me.  We ordered the sofa in a custom fabric for my new place.  There were a lot more options than I expected.  I went with a pale pink that felt soft.  Like chenille, or similar.  I also picked out a rug in light grey with a subtle cream floral pattern.

I’m tired from so much sound and smells and new sights.  I’m holding it together okay, but part of me wants to retreat to a quiet corner and hide under a blanket for a few years.  I’ll be going home tomorrow, accompanied by my nephew and sister.  They are going on to Denver after a short stay at my place.  My nephew purchased an acreage and they are breaking ground on a site for development.  I doubt I’ll go along.  I miss my cat.  And my weighted blanket.  I do like the diversity here, though.  It’s so cool to me to be able to see so many different people going about their business in harmony.  It gives me hope for the future.

A ramble

Today I should totally go to the airport and pick up my car.  It’s supposed to be done snowing for now.  I’m not looking forward to it.  But I need to get food.  And run some errands.  The streets should be plowed by now.  My cat is back to her normal self.  I lost my wallet.  I’m pretty sure I left it in the taxi.  Fortunately, none of my cards were in it, as I put them in a shielded case.  It was a Tokidoki wallet that I probably can’t replace since they’re limited and sell out quickly.  I’m not too upset about it.  It could have been a much worse scenario.

I haven’t felt well for the last day or so.  I’m not surprised when I recall the number of people coughing on the plane home.  When I did my run this morning, I used the treadmill in the main gym.  I was the only one there.  I think it’s funny that for a few weeks following new years, a bunch of people will start using the gyms with good intentions of making it a new lifestyle.  But after a few weeks, it’ll be back to the usual people.  I don’t know when exercising became optional.

I didn’t sleep well last night because I had bizarre dreams.  I only remember that they were strange.  I’ll be glad when the holidays are over so I can get back to work on an game I’m almost finished with.  I’m waiting on the illustrator for now.  Then on to adding voices.  I have beta testers lined up as well.  It should come together nicely.  I have to work out a marketing plan too.  Right after I find out what a marketing plan entails.  That’s as far as I can look ahead without getting overwhelmed.

Dang, I think I’m getting a cold.  I’ve sneezed about 10 times since my run.  I ended up taking my macbook pro instead of my gaming laptop.  Once I got it loaded into the backpack with my mouse and the power cable, the backpack was too heavy.  I’m glad I went with my R2D2 carryon and a smaller backpack.  The wheels came in handy, and a lot of people complimented it.  I still feel a little bit unsettled from my routine being altered while I traveled.

I’m looking forward to moving in a way.  I should say I’m looking forward to being settled in my new home, and comfortable in my new routine.  My anxiety has creeped back.  I’m trying not to be hyper aware of it.  Just knowing there’s a way to take a rest from it helps.  Once I finish my errands, I’m going to set up my new guitar.  I need to order a strap for it.  I’m excited to start playing it.  Seeing Marie Osmond on a nutrisystem commercial now.  She must have had work done.  She was never this hot when she did her show with Donny.  She looks great.  Hollywood is like the real Twilight Zone.  A microcosm of vanity.  It baffles me on so many levels.  I’m off to shower.