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must be all-repulsive.

I am sorry I hit you.

Neither of us were watching.

I wasn't sure how to fit this in, without using some obvious bias.

Heather McEwen, the name of the girl that I first kissed (yet, pronounced more from memory like Mc-"Q"-Inn, and spelling unknown for certain) was the first girl I kissed. It happened in church.

Heather Thomas was someone I came to, through Google image search, as the first image with the name Heather, in the main section for results, for "Heather". Heather Thomas is known for her role in the TV series, The Fall Guy. She co-starred with Lee Majors.

Heather Thomas has three children, with Harry M. Brittenham, who she married in 1992, and they are Kristina, Shauna, and India Rose.

Lee Majors is currently married to Faith Cross-Majors.

Wikipedia made an error (as errors go) in attributing this Heather Thomas, the actress, to authoring the book Resurrection Papers, as listed first, among others.

Heather McEwen in a search comes up with a girl who is an actress, and her most prominent film role was in one called Voyage of the Unicorn, and she is credited, also on the surface, as starring in a TV-film, Orpheus.
Heather is currently a yoga instructor.

The unicorn has been associated with Christ, as has Orpheus.

Just had 4 mg subs n now having some wine. I deserve a drink after this week. So chilling out n going to relax for a bit.

Evey xxxx

Heather was the first girl that I kissed. I just remembered her name, after dreaming of my old church this morning. I've been struggling with trying to remember, for awhile.

I remember I tackled her, at church, and kissed her. I was around 4.

McEwen- her last name, though I can't remember the spelling exactly. My mom spelled it McKuen, when she helped me by remembering the last name, but this spelling could be wrong. Could be right. The "Q" was heavily sounded. Qu-in.

Heather had two older sisters, who were the only twins I remember, clearly enough, from church. Amy and Amber.

Searching "Heather", on Google image search, the first image to display the name Heather in the main section of images, a last name, Thomas- my last name, followed, with a picture of the actress, Heather Thomas. Heather Thomas is known for playing Jody Banks on the TV series, The Fall Guy.

I had one dream where I remember a fight occurring, and there was a hint of connection to another, or other dimensions, like one group was hiding some link to it, or trying to stop belief in connection, to some, perhaps, higher selves or more of themselves, that might be accessible to anyone. Some truth hidden. In part, a thought war. I am not sure. But there was a realization on the part of one side, and I heard a voice say something-"Titan Network", referring to the hidden, and then I woke up.

I'm not sure if I believe that actual Titans existed, as in very large humans. I have read about such things, and seen alleged photographs of giant humans. And some things just seem curious, about our history, like there might be a lot more to it than has been able to survive to be viewed, to now... Things that seem much too complex for the time period they are supposedly from. I wonder if Titans are simply those with connections able to be seen, like, networks, like how I have seen myself as connected to others (though, I know how I have been viewed as crazy, and my thoughts of finding patterns and connections, labeled and written off as errors such as confirmation bias)- my being is much larger than this little body, or connected to a being, much larger, that is still "me", although I might forfeit that designation, in ways that I might employ it normally, and, I guess, what I have seen has given me information enough to say that I am not "me", either. But it's a matter of how you see it. Though, it could all be me. I've tested it out, I guess, to see it- and make things work.

But truthfully, I don't know, and there may have been giants at one time. Yet, still, I guess that doesn't preclude the possibility that it might apply to what I mention, that our beings are not limited, to the dimensions we see of them, only.

I woke up, and Alphas was playing still on Netflix- I fell asleep watching it. It was a rather intense action/fight scene. I rewound to see if they had said "Titan" anything, but found nothing, though I don't doubt my subconscious was picking up on audio of the action.

I fell back asleep, and I remember I was going with my friend, Rob, to my old Church. I haven't been there in a long time. I don't know why I was going. For some reason it was held really early in the morning, and at first I was going to come back later, for the later service, but then more people began to show up, so I decided to stay. It was still dark out. Still very early. And it was held in a gymnasium, or that's where we found ourselves to begin, congregating. It was very hot, and I began to sweat. I was wearing my Tilly hat, which has a huge brim. I was getting many eyes, perhaps for the hat, my tie dye (I never wear tie dye) esque shirt, and because I hadn't been in so long, and people were recognizing me. They- Some seemed to remember my name, though I had trouble remembering any of theirs.

Rob didn't want to go, but I convinced him just to suffer through it for me. I had a reason I needed to be there.

At some point, I was across the room- the gymnasium, and ran across to Rob, as he was sitting or laying on the ground, with many people around. I ran, jumped really high, and did a wrestling drop-elbow near him, joking. I absorbed the impact of landing with no trouble. Though, some others seemed concerned.

Rob was also wearing some tie-dye, and his signature as of late unkempt hair, and shaggy beard, and glasses.

After this, I came into contact with a female, who knew my name, who I remember being in the same class as at church growing up, and who was always nice. And then I came into contact with her older sister. But I don't remember her having an older sister. But I seemed to, here. She took my hand, and said that she was 55. She was seemingly in a hurry, for something, like she didn't have much time left, perhaps to have a child- I don't know. She took my hand, and I took hers. She looked no older than 22, I told her. This was true. She told me we were supposed to lead. I told her I was no leader. That I was capable, but I didn't want to, I guess, or wasn't ready, or didn't know how to start, in this case. I needed the situation to present itself. But she seemed adamant, when she said it. Like she received some sign from God.

Rob then moved me from there, pushing me along the floor. I felt taken care of. He pushed me outside, though, and many males showed up. They were apparently coming to protect people from me, but then realized who I was- that I was not a threat. I recognized many people, but none of their names. And I seemed to be naturally in a position of leader, of the group. Not that I had anything to add... Or boss them to do... Just that I was something of that sort. They followed my attention. They wanted my attention.

The BMV took forever to bring to attention a status of habitual traffic violator, to make it active. They should have done so all the way back in 2006. I could have begun to serve my suspension then, and it would have been done in 2012, when they actually brought it active.

Back in 2001-2002, within a couple of weeks, I was arrested first for a DWI, and then having a controlled substance on me in my possession, while driving. Both were for marijuana, and there is no way to prove, actually, that I was stoned while driving, one, and two, these substances are now legal in two states, and tolerated in many more, and three, this is now over ten years ago, and at the time the BMV finally did bring it to the courts attention, it was almost ready to expire- it was almost 10 years past. It was like they waited until the last possible minute to rip me up.

Now I am "serving time" for this, as I am on a probationary license, and I am doing so until 2017. It will have been, by that time, ~15-16 years past the original "crime" of having marijuana in my blood, and having a plant on my possession, which ultimately put me over the line qualifying me as a habitual traffic violator. Of course, I also got speeding tickets along the way, but even that was three years past, the last time I had one, by the time I had my license revoked, and fought to keep it on a probationary level. It had been three years. And in that time, I even completed a course to keep my license, to reduce points. What? Then they suddenly hit me again? When I hadn't had another ticket? And I paid them money. More money. I even believe that I had to do another course between 2006 and then-2009 when I got my next ticket (the course mentioned before came after 2009), to reduce points. More money for them. Milk it.

15-16 years, and a rapist and a murderer would have served their time, by then. A child molester. And I simply drove while having marijuana in my blood, which I could have smoked 20 days before, for all they can prove. I have to have the government breath down my neck for the next three years, concerning this, going to compliance hearings, never getting one ticket, doing everything perfect, always under threat. ~100,000 miles a year.

Anyways, I missed one compliance hearing, thinking it was the 13th, not the 3rd. I am now having to go in one month, on the 7th of April, to make sure I am in compliance, and to provide an excuse as to why I didn't come on the 3rd. I'm pretty sure I have a legitimate excuse... I could also throw in that I have been in the process of trying to find a place to live and that may have factored in to my inattention to detail, such as compliance hearings only being on Mondays, but I wish I could have had this taken care of by 2012, as it should have been, and not stretched all the way out to 2017.

I currently drive, for a living. If the judge decides to be a dick... I'm screwed. I guess the best I can do is get a haircut, shave, and dress nicely.

I hate speaking in the negative, but it sucks that these people can mess up against us, but when it comes to us messing up, there is little forgiveness, a lot of times. Such incompetence on their part. Its a joke. "Government" facade.

Its up to us to protect ourselves. Be vigilant. The enemy is more than likely domestic, not to say they intend harm.

In this case, it would have been good for me to know the law, and when I should have had my license revoked. This way I should have brought it to their attention. Got the punishment started. It would have been done.

....

Spend 10 bucks to change our username. Funds could go toward maintenance, or other things, like MAPS, or other research.

It would basically be a donation.

I know many of us don't care, or like to build and stick to an identity, but I for one change my name a lot. Maybe its insecurity. But it seems they are expressions. I'm not always expressing the same thing.

Now the most logical choice for me seems something to do with my given name.

I still have this idea that punishment is going to come from some divine God of things, for doing wrong. Wrong has been right enough, to where I don't think anything would exist without it. Its pretty much a choice how one sees it.

I spill my seed. I make more. My skin does die, and it sheds. I shed now for the future. Consequences are temporary. Its all okay. Nothing is okay.

No matter what I do I'll be punished. Without punishment I couldn't feel. Not that that is really any better than nothing, but while we're here, we might as well see it through. I do think there is something worthwhile to it, even if sometimes it seems pointless and so often one step forward and two steps back... Or just the same thing, which ends in death. That we are just eaters. That we trick ourselves into keeping up this game of life, and that if we really knew, we'd see no point. But I tend to think we're Godly, and we have a choice what to do with our hands, and mouths. And we can enjoy ourselves.

I may have decided to stay where I am at- getting another unit in my current complex. For now.

They showed me another available unit. The only issue I have with it is that it has a gas oven/stove, and I can't handle gas smells well. I can get around it though. I can buy a countertop oven and a portable burner.

Then the paint fumes are still there, but they didn't effect me that badly for how recently they painted. Its winter so it hasn't aired out, and I will do this, plus lay out dishes of activated charcoal. And add spider plants and other VOC scrubbers.

The door lock is painted red. The apartment that is right up the steps like mine is in my block, mirror position is 333. Across the way from the unit I'm looking at is 330. Not that I'm interpretting any "omens" as bad or good.

They let me hang out in there on my own to see if I can handle it. When I turned the key back in, to Zach, on his desk to his left- my right, was a tiny yellow envelope with the number 113 on it-- The one given to Christina yesterday in my presence. This number I have long associated with Christ and sacrifice.

Arriving back at my current unit, for the first time I have been in a position to say hello, as I might normally to anyone, to the girl that moved in next to me, whose use of strong petrocarbon fragrance motivated my escape from there, and I denied my natural desire to be social, and just put my head down going past her. She doesn't deserve me. Frankly I don't care if she gets killed. Not painfully. Just dead. She basically said that my sensitivity is not her problem. She has no idea headaches are common side effects of the use of these things. People are more likely to be depressed breathing the compounds contained. Children are especially susceptible to them. The simple fact is the chemicals don't belong in our air. Indoor air is polluted enough, without their addition. They need to be banned. If I ran things consciously, they would and any fragrance would be yanked from the shelves and properly disposed of, and further production halted, pending full investigation, including the question of how ethical it is to force others to breath things they don't need or want to- things that are harmful. Granted there are many things in society that we breath that aren't good, like fumes from gasoline (I have ideas for full automation at the pump too), or cars, Etc... But some things are somewhat unavoidable, and we are working on it. Engineered fragrance is just obnoxious, and extraneous... Unneeded bullshit. I'd love a totalitarian government that did things right. Some people belong in chains. It doesn't have to be repressive. Its not a sacrifice to stop being dipshits. Tell me its not your problem when your child is born and is less than it could have been because of your ignorance of the effects of the environment. When you make life harder than it needs to be. Creating problems that never would have been. Trashy fuckers.

Been putting large amounts of effort into my SSE CV. The amount of thought and time I have spent on it should hopefully get me an apprenticeship. Not to base happiness on money but that apprenticeship guarantees a career for the rest of my life and £750 a month starting August. Other than that only been at home and school. Met everyone yesterday in town, was the first time we had no smoke or anything to do, not that it wasn't quite fun.

Laptop screen got smashed today when my mother tried to grab it off me. That was really annoying but I'm not that worried about it. Should get fixed soon and I can use this shitty monitor in the mean time.

Volunteering n I'm in the toilet cause I keep bursting into tears i really don't know how to get out of this.

Wish I could find some way to feel happy n stop feeling this way

This is too damn much

Why does this have to happen I don't know what to do n nothing feels ok anymore.

Because everything changes n I lose everything.

coal.

209, 113

Cute blond in apartment office, touring units. Zach is helping her. He asks someone, perhaps its Christina, if she can help him acquire keys for 209.

Christina then takes me into her office. I'm just trying to touch base- to communicate on when I am moving, and see what all my options are.

A maintenance guy, wearing earrings that stand out, walks in and hands Christina keys for room 113.

113 I have a build up of Christ-association, however I do have it, it resonates.

209 I associate with one, Zena, and two, Melissa, the girl I had association to when my life went to hell. Well, another level. Though, that is likely an exaggeration, relatively.

Both associations with 209 occurred (though not my knowledge of number) when I was in heart tied to Alisha, still, who is the average of names "MASK" numerogically, and who I asked to marry me, but then let go of after she expressed interest, saving her and myself from pain.

Alisha is where my face began to hurt.

I also dated another Melissa, who went by Missy, when still tied with Alisha, as I was. Melissa means honey, honey-bee, honey-drop.

209, for explanation, is their name sums possible if they were my wives, taking my last name in place of their own. Melissa and Zena. I don't know about Missy. I don't know her middle name.

113 I came to through another girl that I felt like Jesus after, after Alisha, and who had a prominent cross on her spine, on her neck, who had red hair and who was a stripper- Donna. Then I saw it was associated with acts of sacrifice, and according to the source I found first, "meant" "sacrifice for sin", and was a number representing, however they figured it, the immolation of the Christ on the cross, which added to the complex of Christ in my life.

Alisha was where I first "felt like Jesus", at the average of MASK, where my face began to feel like it was being, ha-ha, crucified.

Alisha could have a name sum, with my last name, of 192. 192 most recently was found multiple ways in a crop circle. I'm not sure what meanings I would associate, but I was abducted (no, don't call it that) when I was with her in heart. Had a dream about a red haired girl in a red place first then went looking for her to find myself in a vessel, in space, with a red haired girl that wasn't the red haired girl that I was looking for, a gray and black and white water color- fading in and out rapidly man, a woman, dark, with light skin, the vessel was orange and red, and yellow, with some white... So clean. Crystal, glass, marble-like, some mineral. Tiles (blocks) that were all different sizes, rectangular, but they went together beautifully, smoothly, seamlessly. I was told it would hurt a little. I stood facing a green cube in the center of the room. The red haired girl was behind me, a doorway shaped portal to the outside- to space, ahead. A blue ball and a white ball, stars or Earth and Moon, outside. Then I was at some point shown the inside of a cube, where I bounced falling first then up, and it seemed to get bigger and smaller. Everything looked simulated. 8-bit, or 16. 2-D then 3-D or reverse that, but it fluctuated. I hit a box near the top, like Mario, sort of, and it said "UPGRADE!", and the animations were celebratory, pixeled. Then I was shown an overhead view, it moving smoothly to that, where the cube in the center that I was facing was shown as the central processor, and the young red-head in back of me and the gray-black-white painted (fading in and out almost as fast as it would paint, or come to be seen) male to the right, and dark hair and clothes with lighter skinned female, older than me like the male, in the corner, facing the center, they were elements. The red head was facing the woman. The woman facing... I have said the cube but it might have been the window- the doorway shaped portal in the golden wall. The male was at the controls (though nothing I remember seeing), seemingly, and facing center. But they were units in this system. And this system seemed to be as I've told the story many times, old, and beyond anything we have accomplished yet. And simple, but capable of the utmost complexity.

Seeing from above, I saw through a green transparency, like the color of the cube at times. It was like a mother board. The green electrical masking on them sometimes.

Then I went back to myself, and was in my body, there. Then (well, I'm not sure what happened when exactly) I fell through the floor, perhaps between the three or in front of the cube where I was before, compressed, and sent back to my body here. It was painful. My jaw felt like it was coming undone. My shoulder. I saw what looked like hyperspace in the movies. Then they became symbols, characters. Then one appeared in the center, which meant love, and explained love to me, so simply. It was so simple, and never anything to be afraid of, if true, as it was.

I wanted to hold onto the message to tell the girl that I was chasing, in the beginning, that I was trying to find when I ran into the other, and who I had first run from because I was afraid of the feeling that I might fall, with her, and that she couldn't hold me, or wouldn't want to. I walked away from her in the beginning of that dream after coming face to face, feeling so weak. I had to regain footing. But I came back and she wasn't there. She had left with her mother. I looked around, then found myself in the vessel, when I came near to one other one with red hair, thinking she was the other at first, who I was trying to find, but realizing she wasn't.

In the vessel/craft, Merkaba, uh, I, uh, felt like a child, and on drugs sometimes, and the girl and I were playing first, by the window, and I was afraid to fall out. Then it was like I was in trouble, and was made to stand in front of the cube, which I didn't mind. Interestingly, perhaps, though maybe just coincidence, as a child I was made to sit in a green chair when I was in trouble. "Jeffrey! Go sit in the green chair!".

I screamed, in pain, and fear of coming apart as I fell, and I think I did, come apart, because by the time I reached the symbol for love, that was like, the operating system's language, or something, for it, I wasn't screaming. Maybe inside. I don't remember anything but silence and an energy to things. The feeling of movement/ falling. But I woke up in my bed, screaming out loudly- louder than I have since after birth, probably (yes, yes), relatively, and then I seem to remember a light flash outside my window, which could be just coincidence (but, it's light...), or a self implanted memory to try to make sense of things. My retainer that I was wearing to keep from grinding my teeth, also, I was nearly swallowing by the time I woke up, though that would be impossible, it could still provoke a reflex/panic. I won't pin any reason, though, on any one spot, for this.

I felt like she was real, and she wasn't Alisha- the girl of my dream, who I as trying to get back to. But I had a feeling that the only way I could get back to her, then, was through that that I just came from, and it felt real. More real than here, I felt. Though, it could just be equally so. Though, I have considered that this is all just simulated, and it's only us four, or however numbering I could perceive us as. Or that I am used, by those three. I felt like she was real, and she was in a certain direction, from me. The closest direction was north. "Up". And I met a girl, about 5 years later, who resonated with this experience, and who lived north from there. And she believed in aliens, and angels, and that we were descended, some of us more than others, from these angelic beings. She was totally crazy, but not. I gave her a chance. I wanted to give her... extremely creative thoughts that I know she got from things I had read, too, but I don't take them literally, and I don't believe, but she seemed to... I wanted to give her a chance. I test. I test everything, or try to. She has been "right" about many things. Though, it doesn't mean she is right. It just means the universe allows it to work like that.

I've wanted to tell her I loved her, for awhile. Simply. And at first, I was so complex about it. Going into numbers. Trying to prove it in the grooves of existence, like it's on an information medium, encoded, my love for her. Like my attempts at explaining things like this, to others, it's either not read, or not understood, much of the time. I just loved her.

Her- Donna, numerologically her name can sum to 184, with my last name, the same as my mothers.

Last night, a girl on OkCupid flagged a photo of mine. It was a picture I took of a child angel statue. In my visitor list there were two new ones. One marked her religion as "atheist", so I assumed it was her. I may be wrong. I wrote her a message asking if it was her, then another that said that atheism is not a religion..

I disabled my account. I was mad.

Anyways, a little later, a little redhead named Molly swiped right on me on Tinder. First time in over a week, maybe two, that I have had a match. But I won't approach her, even if a part of me wants to at least flirt a little. She's 22. I'm nearly 32. Different places. But I hearted images on her instagram, and followed her.

The closest Molly to me is my niece, who was born on February 14th. She is 3, and still hasn't grown any length in her hair, because she pulls it out.

at the same time.

amirite.

Why does everything change n always have to be so final???
I am starting to wonder if I'm allowed to be happy because everything gets wetched away, time n time again n it's just too damn much.
And always so final
but I have to act normal.

No I'm not allowed to be happy I'm just not.
It's easier to be miserable because nothing is lost then is it.

Same with codeine......
With with the family I was going to have......

All , all gone.

Now it's happening again.
And I have to act normal again.

Sigh
Ugh.

one dream a few days ago i was eating and then realized what i was eating were beetles, which could resemble scarabs.

there was a male friend, who looked hispanic with plenty of native american, south american native in him, but it was said that he was scottish. he did have a good deal of "caucasian" to his structuring, possibly. but his skin was darker. spanish.

we were in an apartment. i don't remember a lot. but we sort of shared a place. but i was supposed to be on a team with him, in some form, and i kept forgetting what i was doing- a feeling akin to joining a mission in a game, like grand theft auto, and then forgetting i was playing, neglecting the team, and failing, and this happened at least a couple of times.

he was a really nice, beautiful male. intelligent, rational, but at one point, he got tired of me dozing, and lifted up a gun and shot me in the head, i think. or he was going to. but that's certainly not the end.

i ate a beetle or five, not realizing what i was doing- thinking i was eating other things, and i know it happened multiple times.

a dominant color in memory was blue.

it might be easy for me to want them to be something associated and recognizable, as a scarab. i just know they were beetles. the only easy tie to scarab besides their look, generally, is that scarabs are symbols of rebirth, and this being in some apartment, which may have been a new home, resonates with my searching for a rebirth- a new apartment. that, and the fact that i think i was shot in the head and didn't die.

-------

i just woke up from a dream where i remember i was playing a game, as well. my brother was also playing. cars were being driven. there was ice on the road. there were kids, who looked up to people. can't remember a lot of it. it was like real life, mixed with a game. we had reached some level. friends were involved. i remember my friend alston was around. many people from my school- schools growing up.

but something changed. i remember woods. and being on some mission. and i was with a group, a small group, and we were gaining points, moving up, up a hill, there is a concrete and rock barrier. i raise up, and don't have my weapon drawn, but my team takes out the enemies. though, i feel a bit worthless, having forgot, again, to have my weapon out and ready.

my brother was in some vehicle. he entered an interstate, perhaps sliding down. i followed, and there was enough ice to where i had no traction, and was sideways.

then i was on roller blades, and i was nearly flying through the air, and when I would land, i would grind, on edges, but only very lightly would i seem to touch, and then i'd be off again, seemingly, like there was little gravity-- that i got to defy it.

once, i flew past people, thinking i would rest within their stream a little, but i just flew, and kept going, flying along in the air, clearing many obstacles with ease. the last part i remember was being over a track of sorts, or skating rink/track, with a central, park area, or just an area with a big rock or many, and grass, and shrubs.

i seem to remember a friend, brian... we call him burgy- short for his last name, who was living in a van, with his girlfriend. in her home, but in his van.

I went home and put some chicken in the oven, to wake me up- to give me energy before being away for another 4 hours or so. I decided to take a hit of DMT, while I waited for the chicken to cook. Not what I would usually do, but I wanted to get something inside my head, to stimulate me. It was a very light hit... From residue in the pipe. Before this, I was getting a little too warm, and zzz-ing a little in my eyes and brain. After, not much changed, but my mood was better, and I got a warm tryptamine feel. And I accepted loss. I accepted nothing. I wasn't afraid of nothing. I didn't care if I died, on the way back, from my run. But I wanted to complete the job.

I ate, and Tom called me at 4 to make sure I was about to get on the road, while I was. Yes. Planned to get on the road about 430.


It was about 440 when I did finally leave, which normally would be plenty of time to get there well before I needed to, but I did underestimate the effects of the sleet and ice it caused on the road. It ended up taking me right up until around 7 to get there, and on the way, I rarely could go above 60, and saw many vehicles had slid off the road. One truck had already jack-knifed. A jeep had rolled and the roof was crushed. A big four wheel drive truck was off to the side, in a ditch. Most cars seemed to not go past 35 mph in places, while I maintained about 60, flying past. I just got an alignment, as my car just got repaired, so this helped. I did slow considerably in areas, however. Once I reached around Batesville, or south of it, the roads got better. It was just water then, and I had full traction. By Cincinnati, I could drive completely normally, and I ended up at my destination, Delta on Kenton Dr, in Hebron/Florence KY, right at about 6:55.

Inside Delta's receiving, to tender, there was another courier before me. He knew the girl behind the counter, as they worked together often. He joked, and said that he was delivering a bomb- that his package was a bomb. And then she light-heartedly, but seriously acknowledged, "we're not supposed to say that"- that anyone else, anywhere else, would or could be detained. He presented his I.D. for her, and she took his birthday down (or expiration date, which is often the same), which was 9/23, as I heard spoken.

Her name was Kathy, and she was really helpful. By the time it was my turn, though, she asked what my cut-off time was, and I, never running these kind of runs, never tendering a package this sensitive/important before, didn't know about cut off times. The plane I knew was leaving at 8. I figured this was enough time. But the computer wouldn't let her enter it in at 7:05, so we had to communicate with my company, then the company we represent, to put it on the next flight, two hours later, to Atlanta. It's final destination, Kennesaw.

I was attracted to Kathy. She was older, and not little "vixen" hot, like I sometimes go for, or others, but something about her just seemed like she would be fun in the sack, and she wasn't married, and was just extremely nice, and forgiving, and willing to teach me the rules of how it is done/walk me through things there.

It took about 40 minutes to get everything worked out.

I played on OkCupid and got a match with a girl who was in Lawrenceburg. We both swiped right. But her town was Rising Sun, I seem to remember at first, and then it changed (But was it St. Something?). I told her "Good Morning". Her name, Cappe.

When 8 o'clock rolled around, driving back, I called Whole Foods, on the off-chance that someone found, and turned in my money order. Brandon who I was speaking with asked my name, and the amount it was for, and said he would call me back. At about 8:30, Brandon called me back, sounding positive, and said that they did indeed have it there. A customer had turned it in, and it was in the safe.

Relief.

The roads were good until I got closer to central Indiana, where they got steadily worse, from a little icy and sleet on the road, to more and more accumulation, and crawling traffic closer. I still managed to maintain 50-60 mph, driving by many who were going slower. Fresh alignment is great. Once again, though, I saw cars off the side of the road, and another truck-trailer off the side of the road, and turned around. I don't let my speed get out of control. I feel it all in my ass, and feet. I feather the pedal.

Picked up my money order at Whole Foods, saw Mel, again, from a distance, and the lady who checked me out told me stories about how she found a 6-thousand dollar watch on the floor once, somewhere, and turned it in, and at her old job, someone found a diamond ring in the bathroom, where a woman had taken it off to wash her hands and forgot it, and it was turned in, and nobody ever claimed that. I was lucky that whoever found it, did. It was blank, receipt attached. I wanted to give a reward of some kind, but I don't know who it was, so I might donate 20 bucks or something to charity. And they might have rewarded themselves.

"Cappe" said good morning back, right around this time.

I went home, ate some chicken, and put on Stargate, on Netflix, and then passed out.

-------

Order for Kathy Mackey, born 11/9, I thought of 9/11, I parked behind 661, John's vehicle, and my vehicle is 991.
Kathy was also the name of the last woman I dealt with, for work, besides some communication with, I forget who, and Jessica, at work, over the phone.
689 was 23 and fireman red at Kendra Booth's house, on Christopher, where on the way, after picking up a heart and veins on Guion (Guion- "Commonly, a banner, but ecclesiastically a cross carried in procession. In this case since it is distinguished from a silver processional cross, it is probably of wood."), I thought I lost a lot of money. Christ resonates with sacrifice.
9/23 after "bomb" from the guy ahead of me, at Delta, with Kathy, on Kenton Dr, where I took the heart to go to Atlanta/to Kennesaw as far as I had knowledge.

For plates, I could read into letters, but I try to streamline sometimes, and not obsess, or go crazy. I know that after I picked up Kendra's stuff, I saw a car that had a plate that said "Indian 1" and it seemed interesting to see, then pulling into my complex to get my phone that I had forgotten, I saw "Graham 1" ahead of me, driving through the gates. At home, a name with the meaning "gravel + homestead", or "gray home".

This was my uncle's bookmark for years (this is a copy that I requested after they read it at his funeral, that I found cleaning out my apartment). He died on a date of 5/1, and was born on one of 1/5.

From there, I went to drop off the heart and veins at our office, for someone else to pick it up later, to be driven to Cincinnati. Tom, my dispatcher, called me prior to me dropping off, to see if I would want it. I was already thin, and didn't really want it. I said "probably not". But then after dropping off, and telling him I might change my mind, if the weather wasn't bad (winter storm coming then), and that I would call him, I changed my mind as I drove away, coming back to pick them up. I figured, why did I say no to a 90 dollar run, when I just lost 480? Dumb me, I felt, so I went and got it. I said no at first because I'm off at 5 usually, and didn't want to drive on ice. The drop off time was 7 A.M. nearly 2 hours away.

So I went home, to eat something, and rest. And started to get a little tired. Kind of kicked myself for volunteering.

Tom called me with another order, which annoyed me, because I wanted to rest up a little. Maybe take a nap. Eat. Not that I had a lot of time. This order was going just a few miles away, in Carmel, to a nursing home. Picking up right where it drops off- Next door. He first called me once and I just watched the phone alert me of the call, grumbling, "you mother fucker", "leave me be"- along those sentiments. He called me right back, so I picked up. I like to wait sometimes and make them call someone else. It gets old being bothered at all possible times for 12 hours. And my patience was a lot times worse right now, given that I was trying to find out how to cancel a payment with Western Union, having collected the information for the order earlier from the vendor, and nearly everything to do with it was fucking automated. Every person referred me to an automated line, which instructed me to fill out a thing at the vendor, and mail it in, where they would research it, and by that time if the order had gone missing, blank, it would be used. It was all rather annoying, and was really strange to me why I couldn't just call them up and say "here is the serial number, I just got it, and lost it. Please stop the payment. Thank you.". Like I was being tested. So I had other things than working on my mind.

But I said yes, first asking if he had anyone else- to which he said, "no, Tracy and someone are picking up organ orders and...", so I said okay.

I went and picked up, in Carmel, on Rangeline, and delivered on Medical. The order was for Kathy Mackey, born 11/9 (birthday is required for verification in many cases). I parked behind a van, at the facility. I didn't recognize it at first, but the numbers were 661, which I recognized, but didn't make a conscious connection at first. I walked to the door and tried to use the month and year to enter, punching it in on the keypad, but it didn't work. I turned around and recognized the vehicle as John Dawson's. John is a courier with us. "WTF". I wondered why Tom told me he had nobody else, when John is there right then. Why he made me come all this way, when John was already there, and likes to just hang out in the area to gather up the runs around there, as that's his route, commonly, 6 days a week. I called the living-facility because I couldn't get in, and a girl came out and let me in, telling me the numbers I pressed were right, but now you have to press star at the end. New keypad. Inside, O'Dowd (or O'Doud, meaning descended from the dark one) signed for the order, and I went looking for John, to see what was going on... If he was asleep, or phone didn't have reception. Nowhere to be found, where I looked, so I left, and called the office, to bitch a little at Tom (I'm always nice though, more asking what happened, informing), but couldn't get in touch with him as he was taking a call. I talked to someone else, a girl- I forget her name as I rarely have to speak with them, and asked for John's number. She was friendly, and gave it to me. I called him, told him about what happened, and he was surprised, and laughing, but also mad enough to say "I've had it", and head home. He had been waiting for two hours at that point. And was passed up. Tom, apparently, didn't know John was on schedule, but he is always on that schedule, and in the area until 4 A.M. It was then about 2.

It had started to sleet.

My first order, last night, was a pick-up of medications at a place in Carmel, going to Fairland. I had time- they weren't going to be ready with it yet, so I delayed a little, and decided I should get my money order taken care of, for rent... even if I decide not to stay where I am, just to get it out of the way. So I went to Kroger, and nobody was there at the customer service desk. I had time, but not that much time. I said "What the fuck", or "Mother fucker", or both, as I waited. I only waited about 20 seconds, though, before a very petite Latin-looking girl came my way. I quickly changed moods, as to not let it wash over. I understand how things go. I was just in a rush. But that is me. She was nice.

As I was at the counter, another male- Young Black, came and got change for a five. The money order was for 482 dollars. On the way out, I walked out first, with the money order blowing in the wind in my hand, and he was walking behind me but quickly overtook me from behind. Here, I did have a thought as he was behind me, "what if he ran up and grabbed it out of my hands"- and had a thought to just give it to him, after. To let go of the money (I kind of wish I had it to give).

I went to my car, and drove across the street, to Whole Foods. On the way in I don't know why I still had it with me- the money order, but I folded it up and put it in my pocket. I bought some apple cider vinegar, that I had forgotten the first time I went that day. In line, I went to "Mel"'s line, and a male nurse was ahead of me. Very tall, bearded, and wearing bright colors. Mel began to re-tie her apron, and as she did I sort of checked her out, as it exposed a rather shapely, sexy body, as she made it snug around her. The curve of her back, to her ass, and her breasts from her chest and to lower abdomen. She turned her head to see me, and smiled, as I did, to her- the social smile we all do to disarm each other/ourselves. Once it was getting to be my turn, I turned around and saw a lady, who also did the social smile, as I did back. Mel said goodbye to the towering, bearded male nurse, but it was actually hello to me. I thought she said "have a good one" to him. It was "how are you doing?". It took me a second to process it back, but then caught it, and laughed, and explained, and she joined the laugh.

I dropped my money order in there, but didn't realize, until later.

After there, I went straight north, to pick up the order, a couple of miles away, and it wasn't ready yet, so I went inside and hung out in the presence of the girls who were packing it.

They told me it was promised before 10, but that they had told the customer that it might be later. It was about 9:10 by the time I got loaded, about a half hour after it was supposed to be done.

After this, I went to get my phone that I had forgotten at my apartment. This would still put me there at about 10 or before, at the destination. I need the phone for GPS and to receive orders. And the apartment isn't far out of the way. But I picked that up, and then as I sat at the gate trying to figure out which way to go out of it- which way was faster- right to Michigan down to 65-465-74 or left to Ditch to Spring Mill, to 465-74, I got a call telling me of another order, picking up a heart and veins at an organ procurement place. At first the dispatcher intended to have me do this after, but I told him where I was, and we both seemed to think that I could get there to pick that up and make it to the other drop off, not much later than I was supposed to be there- not much later than 10. I was wrong.

By the time I picked up the heart and veins, it was 9:50. At this point I had 10 minutes to drive a half hour's worth of driving to make it on time. And as I got in my car, I realized something: My money order was missing. Nowhere in my pockets, or car. I cursed God, many times, starting then. I wanted to die. It's better to be/have nothing-- Nothing can be taken away. I was really frustrated. I had just lost my rent money, and didn't have surplus. I'd have to ask my dad, again, for cash, for help. This messed me up, on the way to Fairland. I got on 65, wanting to go back and retrace my steps but knowing it was important what I was doing now- knowing I had to keep going, despite myself. But my mind was taking me north. I didn't stay on 65. 65 and 38th street run together where I entered it, sort of. I missed the fork to go on 65 and stayed on 38th, and went miles out of the way, in city traffic. This wasted a further 20 minutes, or so.

By the time I got to Christopher Ln, in Fairland- the location of the patient, Kendra Booth, it was 45 minutes late, and I just realized seeing a nurses car from St. Franciscan, what kind of order this was... One of those where they come out and set up chemotherapy (or something), and teach the patient and family how to do it. The license plate of this vehicle began with 689- numbers I see "23" with. They add to 23, and of any combination of numbers as are standardized, they are the most balanced, together (visually), and share commonalities, in that they all have the circle, like 0. They are like zero. Blood vessels are circles. Eyes are circles. Orbits. Circles of legs as they propel. Joint movements. Eggs. Stars. Earth. Hmm. Try to argue it. I know you want to. I'm just so obvious that it's hard to accept. So simple. You can fight it (you will), but you will lose. The circle is just simple. Common. Balance. Flow.

The husband, Brian, signed for it. He didn't express anger, or anything, but as I turned around and saw the wife, Kendra, she seemed a little annoyed at how long it took. I apologized as much as I could, without going over. The husband was wearing a shirt identifying membership to a firefighters union. He had a red-beard, and hair.

In my dream my dad gave me a bandaid, at a dance, where my old soccer buddies showed up for some reason. I showed up with them. We were older. My ex was there, but it as if I didn't know her- not that I didn't remember, but like nothing effected me. Nothing like that mattered. I didn't hate her. I just didn't see a reason for interrupting her life, or mine, with her.

She was at her last winter dance, for her school. She was still in high school, where in life she is out of college. She was telling a story about when I was with her, I heard. I remembered one time trying ecstasy, but with her friends, and she decided not to take any, in the dream- like her story. And she was totally naked, she said. I seemed to create a memory of this. Her friend and I did- a guy friend. Maybe another.

There was a closeness with myself and the guys I was with- my once team. They were more conditioned than me. I had forgotten about playing soccer. They had played since high school. But there was a physical comfort of being near them. Almost like one would feel with a girl, minus sexuality. I was wearing the clothes I fell asleep in. My pajama pants, and a faux fur-lined hoody, unzipped, and I was very chill, and at times in other parts of the dream, so weak that I couldn't speak, such as earlier, when I met other friends, and again was too weak to speak, or move at times.

In one scene a guy who used to give me some problems- gave everyone problems, yet was himself very intelligent, and talented, he gave me a ride home, and we got along fine. He no longer tried to act dominant. I didn't take anything to heart. And we both seemed to be eating these nicotine candies. Discs of white, where pieces would break off in the shape of pieces of pizza. We were eating these, and both seemed to be passing out, or very, very weak.

Once he gave me a ride home, from where we were. My place was like a studio, with a back porch, and a back yard. His car seemed like you had to lay back in it, or else there would be no room for your head. It was first a tiny car, but he dropped me off, and it seemed larger, like a Jeep Wrangler, when I saw it earlier, as he hadn't moved. He just fell asleep in it, as I slept inside. And I thought about being nice to invite him inside, but I figured nah, he's fine, or didn't want to bother him. And I went outside and he turned into a snake. A very giant snake. Moving around rapidly, through my yard. I laid down on his car, and only once was I afraid of it hurting me. It was maybe 30 feet long. Really it's hard to be sure because it might have been only 12 at times, or less. And it may have never reached 30 feet but it didn't seem to only be local to it's position. I could only keep track of so much of it. Only once was I afraid. Then I had faith. I knew that it would either hurt me/kill me, or not. The only thing I wasn't looking forward to was continuing pain.

When my fear went away, the snake didn't seem to have any interest in hurting me. It just moved about, very fast, in the air, and on the ground around me.

I remember people were helping me move. Stuff was here, then it was not. More and more was going away. I was slightly embarrassed by the shape of my love-seat, as the cushions are missing their covers right now, and I usually just cover it with a bed-sheet. My marijuana pipes were sitting out in the open, and my mom and sister could see them, but it didn't seem to matter. Some people I didn't know where there.

At some point I went and saw this girl who has been showing interest in me, who works at Whole Foods. She works the register, and sees me coming from a ways away, lighting up. Last time I did go, Melissa next to her, a woman I've known for about 8 years, as she worked at another market I frequented, and I worked there for a second- she said she can take me in the lane next to this other girl's, Lora's. She said "Jeff I can take you over here", and Lora expressed excitement over learning my name, telling me that I never introduced myself to her. Though, I run my credit card every time. But she came over and stood within an inch of me, talking to me, as I was being checked out, talking to me. In my dream I met her and her friends in a food court, but I soon passed out with my pajama pants and unzipped hoodie, mouth probably open, knocked out, face toward the ceiling, and they left.

Then I talked to Brian, a friend from my home town, who I used to always hang out with, and then sort of lost contact with over the last 8 years. I apologized that I was always suffering from some reaction, and it was hard to talk. I'm not even sure if he understood (dream).

Back to the dance, which was the very end of the dream...

I remember pictures were taken of me, that I didn't remember. Us guys were also couriers, and we were waiting to enter a room that was accessible by the dance floor/gymnasium. The room had packages for us to deliver, that we usually picked up by 2 P.M. Not sure why the dance was at that time, but anyways. And there was water in the room, too. Places where our packages were, was a big mobile dumping thing with lots of water in it. Or just.. thing that you can put stuff in, that is deep. I didn't see inside but I somehow knew.

The pictures taken of me, were model like. They were perhaps taken of all of us, and we were also, apparently, part of the show, "The Bachelor", but we were all this (and, in life, they are not, some of them). "Hot dudes"! One picture of me, I had a cock in my mouth. I was going down on a guy. Not sure who. But I only remember my picture being taken, by a ghost, seemingly. And I was always nearly passing out, or very, very relaxed.

I didn't quite mind this. I didn't care what people thought. Even if it wasn't real/That I can't remember actually doing this, it just wasn't a big deal to me. Those that it matters that much to, to change much how they treat me, would not matter to me. They wouldn't know me. I still knew I liked girls. But I did play into it, when asked by one person later if I'm the guy in that picture, saying that "I'm not, but uh... I don't know. Could explain why I don't get along with women"- which isn't exactly true... Just that to this point I have not had a successful relationship past a certain point (when it wasn't).

The party died down. Only older people were left.

My dad gave me a band-aid, after writing a letter, with strange writing. I just realized he had heard the entire thing. He didn't seem phased, or to care.

He gave me this band-aid, and I wondered, and said perhaps "why did you give me this band-aid?". No answer. But I do remember him saying "Claim it with a passion!". I'm not sure, still, what he means. I'm not gay. I still want and want to be wanted, by girls. I love the attention of any. Guys mainly flatter me, if they do show special attention in that way. I'm not ready to accept that. It's not as natural. It's not the end, for me, that makes the beginning- the new. It's a dead end. It's a side-game, at best.

I took his, my dad's, "claim it with a passion", as toward my apartment. The one he would tell me to do that with is 531, here in this same complex, which I have again been leaning toward moving into. I just want them to install recycled carpet with low voc glue, or water based glue, and I will try it. I like having the ease of my own washer and dryer. Nothing has really jumped out at me as something I want, that I have seen, enough to make a change. They all come with their own problems. Like gas stoves. But I can buy a countertop, portable oven, for what I make. I never use the stove tops, anymore. And I can buy my own portable washer and dryer. I'm considering another, 1250 sq foot apartment, as well, but it has the gas, and would be a bitch to heat in the winter. Expensive as hell. Unless I just brought a space heater where I was at.

But he gave me this band-aid. I had no idea why. It was a prominent question.

I woke up, shortly after, and my foot went straight down on a light-bulb that I had seemed to miss the other times. I usually don't get out that way, but I have a line of clothes yet to be folded on one side of my bed- the side I usually get out of. All I heard was a loud cracking, and soon a little pain. Then blood, as I checked it. Pulled the piece(s) out, and cleaned up. Bleeding stopped with hot water. No band-aid required.

"This Life Counts! Im humoruse, I'm a writer, an artist and a musical genius. I love cooking. I am a true spiritualist."

:D