So the date - yeah, it's December 16 2005. This doesn't mean too much to me lately. Other things have been on my mind besides dates and days of the week. There are no jobs now and most likely there won't be any until February. Good thing I have that pot of gold I found at the end of the rainbow. Thank God I believe in leprechauns.
It's what people call the holiday season - some people call it that anyways, but I beg to differ - you see my life is the holiday season. At least temporarily. But I don't want to get all seasonal, it's so boring really.

The cycle of everything always repeating can really get on a person's nerves. Why is it the human race has to make everything into a routine?

Isn't it enough that on a day to day basis we have to go through mundane routines? Why does every single event have to be planned out and calculated on an annual schedule? Just because this stupid planet spins in some sort of cycle - does that mean we all need to follow one?

Yeah, yeah who cares right? Shut up your mouth and just go with the flow. Fall into place and fit yourself into the lineup. Maybe I just have too much time on my hands lately. No. Wait a minute. That's not it at all. We are all just a bunch of bucking retardts.

We are no different then my cats. If you change one aspect of my cats' routines they have a logic meltdown and refuse to accept their condition as altered. If I feed them according to plan everything is harmonious - but if things change and they get fed early they refuse to accept the anomaly in routine and demand to be re-fed regardless of how full their dish is. They will stand right in front of the full dish and demand it because of the routine they have relied on.

Are we the same way? I don't think so. I think that the concept of routine in human schedule is enforced primarily through consumerism. Don't worry I won't go on about it any more - I got go - It's lunch time.

What the hell is this?

Close up....









I was going through my photos looking for something to blogg about when I came across this image - I must have overlooked it and not noticed what was going on. Weird that this photo would show up now - after me posting that rough story excerpt. I took the photo to Henry's and asked them if it could be a problem with my camera and they said that my digital was fine. It really creeps me out to have found this - it almost makes me want to stop writing about abduction. Could it be a message from God? Is he telling me to be careful or am I just insane?

The close up doesn't show anything but I wanted you to see it for yourself.

To be honest I just don't understand this. My first reaction is to downplay it as a fluke coincidence but who knows. It's giving me nightmares. Last night I had a dream that I was sucked out of the sky and cut wide open - then dropped back onto a field like garbage.

This is the first part of a rough draft I am working on for a submission to Science Fiction and Fantasy Magazine - it is still rough and unfinnished but its all i have for you today - sorry I am not in the mood to post more but at least this is a little different - I will republish the complete story in a few days.
When they came for me I was in the back yard digging potatoes. My hands were dirty-numb from thumbing off the wet cold mud before I put each one into the bushel basket my father had left for me. It was a grey sky. My subconscious silence matched the flat acreage that stretched out before me. Dampness seeped through my hands and up my arms as I stood on the open earth. The last of the insects ticked weakly in the broken fall grass that surrounded the garden. The grass stretched out down the hill and through the fields and rail fences to a distant lake that defined the horizon. Cool air seeped silently up the hill towards me and awoke the tip of my nose; making it run just enough to warrant a smudge of grit from the back of my hand.

I was three days into the crop, and had more than two to go. I dug listlessly spearing large healthy white potatoes with my fork and guiltlessly tossing the damaged ones into the grass unseen. With contempt of responsibility and purpose; I yearned for my time to be my own, if only to waste it away. I was smitten with selfish pity and could see no value in my father's plea of purposeful task making.

I had been waiting for them. They were the perfect distraction to unchain me from the prison of my deed. They came for me from behind and I had little time to respond to their showing. The silence of the day resonated inside my head and I sensed the crowd at my back. My jaw set at the sight of them and I dropped my potato fork at my feet, feeling it hit the steel toe cap of my boot. They touched my mind quickly and it expanded to a size more vast than any concept. My consciousness opened up into the landscape and my posture swayed as I tried to adjust to the change within me. They encircled me and we moved as a mass into the dry dead grass of the field. Their close proximity helped me to compose my balance enough to stagger weakly with them down the hillside.

An instant of their time defined an eternity of what I had known. I was touching the belly of a God and drawing upon its power. We marched foolishly in the broken grass as I adapted to my new insight. Drinking in the power; I was dying as we walked. God was real; I could see him coming at me over the horizon from the lake. Their hands brushed over me reassuringly. My excitement fought with the calmness they exuded.