One more day of work before the holidays.

And it feels pretty good!

I’m grounded today. Looking back at it, I think my last few days, no: year has been one truly of turmoil. I was been turned inside out, then twice!! So back as it were to my original shape

But wrinkled

And some of me still is in the filter of this tumbler or the dryer.

Wrinkled but with the sweater now clean, dry, and turned the right way, I gently stretch my back to stand erect

The sweater all warm.

It used to be blue and gray, but now it’s almost red!!

'I do not attempt to deny, that I think very highly of him — that I greatly esteem, that I like him.'

Is love a fancy, or a feeling?

No.

It is immortal as immaculate Truth,

'Tis not a blossom shed as soon as youth, Drops from the stem of life— for it will grow, In barren regions, where no waters flow,

Nor rays of promise cheats the pensive gloom. A darkling fire, faint hovering o'er a tomb, That but itself and darkness nought doth show,

It is my love's being yet it cannot die, Nor will it change, though all be changed beside; Though fairest beauty be no longer fair,

Though vows be false, and faith itself deny, Though sharp enjoyment be a suicide, And hope a spectre in a ruin bare.

— Hartley Coleridge

---

On the Arc of Light There is a Shakespeare sonnet that has been staying with me—one that traces a life through the path of the sun. At dawn, the light is adored. Faces turn toward it instinctively. At noon, it is powerful and necessary. And by evening, quietly and without ceremony, it is no longer watched. The same sun. The same light. Only the angle has changed. What moves me is not the sadness of that ending, but its truth. We are very good at loving what feels immediate and radiant. We praise intensity easily. We linger less with what lasts. And yet it is often the longer light—the steadier warmth—that carries us through the day. Sense and Sensibility understands this better than most stories. It does not dismiss passion, nor does it scold restraint. It simply asks what love looks like when feeling must share space with time, responsibility, and care for others. It asks whether devotion can remain alive without constant proof, and whether something deeply felt can survive without possession. I find myself thinking about that often now. About how love changes when it cannot rush forward, when it must move with patience and intention. About how some connections do not announce themselves loudly, but settle into us all the same—quietly shaping who we are, how we see, how we endure. There is nothing small about wanting to be seen fully. Wanting warmth, closeness, recognition—these are not indulgences; they are human needs. But there is also a tenderness in learning how to hold affection without taking it, how to remain present without demanding more than what can be given. The sun does not stop shining because fewer eyes follow it at evening. Its work continues, steady and faithful. And those who understand that—who know how to love not only the rise, but the long arc—learn to recognize beauty even when it is gentle, even when it does not call attention to itself. Some forms of love are not meant to be consumed or claimed. Some exist to steady us, to witness us honestly, to offer warmth without burning anything down. They ask for care, not conquest. And in their restraint, they reveal a depth that intensity alone cannot reach. Perhaps that is what matters most: to stand in another’s light without trying to own it— to feel the warmth, even as the day turns— and to know that what is real does not vanish simply because it is quiet.

Our most honest language.

I feel like Jodi Foster when she first gets a look at alien worlds on her journey in ‘Contact’.

“They should have sent a poet.”

Oh wait! We did.

---

Oh. My. God.

I haven’t had many hands teach me what my body knows,

but this one— this one spoke fluently.

And my body— It understood the assignment.

---

I’ve had few massages in my young life, but I most certainly just had the best one.

My Portuguese masseuse’s youth belied her strength and skill. She had a grip like iron and pressed hot rocks on my pale veneer with the force of a titan. Slicked with oil and barely present, I traveled the world in ninety minutes. I never dozed, it was too demanding of my pleasure centers to let go that way. But I did drift subconsciously—to my heart-home, to friends, to strangers, even to fruit—trading breath with the meaning of life.

At one point I was speaking to a politician who was a head of lettuce. He didn’t have much to contribute.

The absolute pleasure of being kneaded and stroked by a stranger’s hands simply cannot be matched. Unless—perhaps the hands of a lover. That, though, would produce wholly different somatic reactions.

Joy. Utter joy.

The sounds of the space—for you only have the two senses, sound and touch—were heightened tenfold; a repeated splash of water rinsing the hot rocks, the soft grinding of two hard things together, the oil audibly glistened in the cloistered room.

Viscous, wet and warm, smears slick lubricants that get traced by stones feeling something like hot chocolate poured over and down your body. It takes a moment to realize the tension is heat, not liquid.

The space is small and dark and so, so very soft. Music and candlelight set a mood undeniably tuned to unfold the body and mind. The therapist’s beauty and easy countenance rub away any hesitancy. She is utterly composed and professional.

I expected tears considering the weighty emotions I’ve been harboring, but the session produces only peace and occasionally unprovoked laughter.

When it ends, it does not do so abruptly. The hands leave, the stones cool, the oil settles into skin like a secret. I am still myself, but rearranged—pliable, unguarded, briefly absolved of the effort of being held together.

An hour of steam and shower cycles complete the day’s self-care leaving my skin golden and glowing with the texture of silk. The steam has choked out the contaminants and allowed me a short spirit journey from the heat and cold plunges.

I step back into the world slower than I entered it, aware that for a little while, my body was allowed to speak without interruption. Even now, it thanks me —for thinking of it at all.

Rain again. As if the sky wakes up every morning and decides to be a problem. Streets turn slick, shoes get ruined, and the air smells like something that should’ve stayed buried. Convenient.

Thunder always needs to participate. Loud, abrupt, demanding attention. It doesn’t warn you, it just interrupts like it enjoys reminding everyone who’s in control. People flinch, then pretend it’s charming. I don’t agree with them.

Cold weather works the same way. It slows your hands, tightens your body, and turns simple movements into effort. You don’t live through it, you endure it. The day becomes something to survive instead of use.

They say it makes you feel alive. I think people confuse irritation with meaning.

Some of us appreciate warmth, clarity, and silence. The rain offers none of those. And some say it makes them feel alive. I think they confuse discomfort with depth

If I wanted chaos, I’d create it myself.

Sincerely,

With no warmth,

The Sky’s Critic

This started out as a Remark.as response to this post from Ernest Ortiz. Once it became long enough, I decided to make it a proper blog post instead.

So, here's my response to his question about my “writer's carry”:

Interesting, I've never heard it called a “writer's carry”, but it does make sense.

I used to write down my thoughts and ideas on my bullet journal. That habit slowly faded away once I started using Obsidian on my phone. Since my bullet journal is too big to carry around with me all the time, I still primarily write down thoughts and ideas on my phone first. But lately, I've been trying to get back to more analog writing, and have been writing to my bullet journal more.

I currently have a navy blue Bullet Journal, the official one that is a collab with Leuchtterm1917. As for my pen, when I'm at the office, I write with a Uni Jetstream pen. And when I'm at home, I use my Zebra Sarasa pen. Everywhere else where I can't easily write into my bullet journal, I use Obsidian on my phone.

#Response #Writing #BulletJournal

Red supposedly represents anger or power. It also represents the expendable red shirts in the Star Trek TOS-era. I am the latter for this body is merely a temporary vessel before the afterlife; I try to use it to help others as much as possible.

At my disposal, my red wooden pencil and red notebook are always there to write my ideas and thoughts. I then use my red phone to type and post my blog articles. These three items help me spread my words throughout the online world.

This is not to brag or think I’m better than everyone else. I’m at the point in my life where I want to contribute whenever possible. It’s a calling, not a job. I can make money elsewhere.

What’s your writer’s carry?

#writing #notepad #phone #pencil

JOURNAL 18 décembre 2025

En direct de notre envoyée spéciale au kotatsu et malgré qu'elle se gèle le culte de sa personnalité. Donc entrevues avec mes deux psys. Pour le check-up je suis un modèle standard, la japonaise type, moyenne partout, faut pas se croire unique c’est pas un film de Spielberg, ma petite je suis d'une banalité standard. 😞 Pour le côté psy, les deux sont ravis que je fasse une pause dans mon introspection, ils m’ont toujours dit que j'allais trop vite. Je vais beaucoup mieux, il y a beaucoup moins de croix à gauche dans les questionnaires, beaucoup moins de rouge dans la marge. Ils sont contents de ça aussi. Je suis maintenant classée dans les dinguottes légères, limite ça passerait inaperçu mais maintenant qu’ils me tiennent ils ne veulent pas me lâcher. J'ai un clair syndrome d'abandon. C’est très courant au Japon. Je le conjure très bien paraît-il en étant très amoureuse et fidèle 😎 Il me faudra compléter mon travail pour me libérer de je sais pas quoi, mais je crois deviner que c’est en rapport avec ma famille et en particulier mon frère aîné et je commence à me faire une idée du problème et ça m'embête.

tatataaam

Je les reverrai après les vacances, ils m'ont conseillé de me bien vider la tête. Samedi soir vacances Le ministère n'a toujours pas répondu pour l'autorisation de s'éloigner de tôkyô de A. 😓

Our Father Who art in heaven Hallowed be Thy name Thy Kingdom come Thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven Give us this day our daily Bread And forgive us our trespasses As we forgive those who trespass against us And lead us not into temptation But deliver us from evil

Amen

Jesus is Lord! Come Lord Jesus!

Come Lord Jesus! Christ is Lord!

Culprit until time runs out

The clock is ticking, as relentlessly as the hours before. It’s the middle of the night and the clock on the wall is ticking.

What a burden, such a heavy conscious, isn’t it? If it were only that, you‘d be sound asleep. And in consequence, so might I.

I can’t pretend not to be tired. The day was long and busy. No, the fight for this night was not decided during the day but at its end: I had a friendly chat with colleagues. Exchanging ideas, plans, the state of projects. It started oh so confidently. Until the lightning.

So dramatic again... „lightning“ was simply a sudden realization (which hit me like lightning): one detail, one project point, one optional – probably totally not optional task... did I do it? And how probably totally not optional was it now?

Repercussions for the entire project, for the entire team. Because of a small oversight on your side. Totally avoidable, all the more dire. The clock on the wall is ticking, George is nagging. As relentlessly as the hours before. And no chance to check how optional and dire.

They will remember and they should. It’s bad. One sleepless night? More likely the first of many. Tick tick tick... will they remember? For how long? I wouldn’t. But you will. But I will. You can’t forget, you can’t escape, you can’t forgive. Yourself.

He’s not even trying to hide the double–standard. So strong is his grip on the game: I could – I would – forgive a thing like this. No evil intent, no clear big warning in the requirements, an oversight. A human one. But your standards on yourself aren’t „human“ level.

They sometimes are! But you don’t want be to see this, do you? Not at this hour, at tick tick tick o’clock. The hour doesn’t matter. Now, tomorrow, always. Not the hour but the company. I’m alone and tired. I’m easy prey and victim to your ticking. Right now I’m the entire world and you blame me worth of one.

I would forgive, I will forget. Life moves on, unimpressed by time seeming to tick the same way it has been as long as I remember.

We still don’t know if it was crucial or optional. You never bothered: guilty until proven otherwise and even then. The only thing truly optional are your beating – and the battery in that clock.

---

Last post: “Homecoming with insight”

Gdansk är en stad som bär sin historia öppet men samtidigt känns levande och självklar i nuet. På två dagar hinner du få en stark känsla för platsen, promenera genom århundraden av dramatik, äta väldigt gott och ändå ha tid att bara slå dig ner med en kaffe vid vattnet och titta på folk.

Börja första dagen i den gamla stadskärnan, Główne Miasto, där nästan varje gata känns som ett vykort. Långa torget, Długi Targ, leder dig rakt in i stadens hjärta med färgglada fasader, Neptunusfontänen och det pampiga rådhuset. Ta god tid på dig och gå in i Mariakyrkan, en av världens största tegelkyrkor. Klättrar du upp i tornet belönas du med utsikt över hela staden och hamninloppet. Fortsätt ner mot floden Motława där den ikoniska träkranen Żuraw minner om Gdansks tid som viktig hansestad. Här är det perfekt att strosa längs kajen, kika i små butiker som säljer bärnsten och slå sig ner för en första lunch.

När det gäller mat finns det mycket att välja på. För klassisk polsk husmanskost med modern twist passar restauranger som Goldwasser eller Restauracja Gvara, där pierogi, soppor och långkok serveras i snygg tappning. Vill du ha något lättare fungerar det fint med fisk eller sallad på någon av uteserveringarna längs vattnet. Missa inte att prova lokalt öl, Gdansk har en stark bryggartradition som märks både på menyerna och i barerna.

På eftermiddagen kan du fördjupa dig i stadens moderna historia. En kort spårvagnsresa tar dig till Europeiska solidaritetscentret, ett arkitektoniskt slående museum som berättar om fackföreningsrörelsen Solidarność och dess betydelse för Polens och Europas samtidshistoria. Utställningarna är engagerande även för den som inte är djupt historiskt bevandrad. Har du mer tid och energi kan du fortsätta till varvsområdet som numera är fyllt av barer, ateljéer och kulturevenemang.

Kvällen spenderas med fördel tillbaka i centrum. Gdansk har ett överraskande bra utbud av restauranger i mellan- och toppklass. Restauranger som Eliksir kombinerar mat och cocktails på hög nivå, medan Fino erbjuder mer elegant fine dining med fokus på säsongens råvaror. Efter middagen är det trevligt att ta en promenad längs floden när byggnaderna speglar sig i vattnet och staden känns lugnare men fortfarande levande.

Dag två kan börja lite långsammare. En bra frukost eller brunch är lätt att hitta, till exempel på Drukarnia Café eller Retro Café, där kaffe och bakverk håller hög nivå. Därefter passar det bra att lämna innerstaden en stund. Ta dig till Westerplatte, platsen där andra världskriget inleddes, och promenera bland monumenten i den stillsamma parken. Kontrasten mellan naturen, havsluften och den tunga historien gör besöket starkt men värt tiden.

Tillbaka i Gdansk kan eftermiddagen ägnas åt shopping och små upptäckter. Ulica Mariacka är en av stadens charmigaste gator med sina smala trappor, smyckesbutiker och konstgallerier. Här hittar du mycket hantverk och bärnsten i bättre kvalitet än i de mest turisttäta kvarteren. Om vädret tillåter är en båttur på kanalerna ett avkopplande sätt att se staden från ett annat perspektiv.

När det gäller boende finns det gott om bra alternativ i och runt gamla stan. Boutiquehotell som Puro eller Hotel Gdańsk erbjuder stil och bra läge, medan billigare men trevliga alternativ finns i form av pensionat och lägenhetshotell runt Motława och Wrzeszcz. Att bo centralt gör stor skillnad eftersom mycket av det bästa nås till fots.

Två dagar i Gdansk räcker för att bli förälskad i stadens blandning av historia, vatten, mat och avslappnad atmosfär. Det är en plats som känns både lättillgänglig och innehållsrik, och som ofta får besökare att planera en återkomst redan innan resan är över.

Panorama – Cars 1980

“You wear those eyes / That never blink”

Eyes that never blink suggest unflinching self-possession. This person sees without flinching, without apology. There’s confidence here, maybe even danger—someone who doesn’t look away..

“You always were / The missing link”

The narrator positions this person as the answer to a long, unnamed absence. Not just attraction, but completion—something evolutionary, inevitable. Nothing else, at least nothing known can finish the puzzle of you. So it’s an unfinished existence—knowing the last few pieces are on the table, but the rules say you can’t finish, not yet.

“You painted your mouth / You let me know”

Lipstick as signal. Deliberate presentation. This is communication through appearance (performance?), not words—seduction that knows it’s being read. Or as a writer, one could argue the ‘painting’ is the prose and performance. Implied versus overt, but clear to the right perceiver.

“You really are / The only show”

Total focus. The rest of the world fades. This isn’t casual desire; it’s singular attention, almost worshipful.

“Just take your time / It’s not too late”

Reassurance. Patience. The speaker isn’t rushing the moment—they’re holding space for choice. The implication is that a thing worth doing is worth not rushing.

“I’ll be your mirror / You won’t hesitate”

This is key. To be a mirror is to reflect someone back to themselves. The promise is: I’ll help you see yourself clearly enough to act, to be whole. This is the power of good communication and presence.

“I’m easy to be found / Whenever you come down”

Availability without pressure. The speaker isn’t chasing—they’re present, grounded, a place to land after the high.

“You got that walk / You do the stroll”

Physical confidence again. Movement as identity. This person owns their body and the space around it. More performance as message, as identity.

“You make me lose / My ground control”

A Bowie reference, yes—but emotionally it’s about losing composure, gravity slipping. Attraction as destabilization. There is no linger up or down, just awareness and an uncertainty how to find earth.

“You got that look / I can’t resist”

Pure pull. No justification needed. Instinctive, electric, powerful.

“Like something missing / Never kissed”

Longing without history. A sense of pre-existing intimacy that hasn’t yet happened—the ache of the almost. Unremembered and/or unhappened.

(Refrain repetition)

The repeated lines don’t add new meaning—they deepen insistence. The song circles its core rather than advancing a plot, which mirrors desire itself.

“You do the pogo / Without the bounce”

Punk imagery stripped of chaos. Movement without release. Energy held in check—restraint instead of explosion. This is the real challenge: power and energy that doesn’t have release can be damaging. Containment is vital. This series of lyrics describes someone who likes the idea of falling in love but keeps and emotional distance. Not full committed.

“You got the name / I can’t pronounce”

Exoticism, distance, mystery. This person isn’t fully knowable or assimilable. They remain slightly out of reach.

“You fall in love / You like the sting”

Love as pain, or at least as sensation. This person doesn’t avoid hurt—they court it. Following the series, the writer implies that the object of affection holds back, liking the sting, but not wanting to expose themselves to the devastating effect of going all in.

“You make believe / It’s everything”

A gentle critique. Romantic intensity may be real, but also performed, elevated, mythologized. What else can a conscientious romantic do? Maintain the veil of the unreal.

Final repetitions:

“Just take your time / It’s not too late” By the end, these lines function like a mantra. Time stretches. The song isn’t asking for action—it’s suspending the moment, keeping possibility alive.

Overall read

A song not about conquest or consummation, but: recognition, patience, and reflective desire—wanting someone not to be taken, but to arrive when they’re ready.

I wear these eyes. They are eyes of love, acceptance and celebration.

---

---

Panorama

Cars

Panorama

I'm gonna get what's coming to me No surprises, no impressions Hey, what's a wrong with you tonight Just sittin' on your can can Doin' the panoram With nothin' to contemplate With nothin' to search for With nothin' to integrate With nothin' to do 'Cept think about you Well, there's nothin' to do 'Cept fall for blue I just want to be in your panorama, yeah I just want to be in your panorama I'm gonna to take what's comin' to me No entanglements, and no compromise Hey get the picture, I'm on my knees Lookin' at your hot shot Turnin' down your offer Well I'm rippin' it up I'm lookin' away I'm pullin' my flag up 'Cause I'm miles away With nothin' to do 'Cept think about you, yeah I just want to be in your panorama Well, I just want to be in your panorama I'm gonna to find my way out of here No pushing the buttons, no deals with daddy-o I'm gonna to get myself in trouble Gonna take my chances If I break your bubble Well I'm rippin' it up I'm lookin' away I'm pullin' my flag up 'Cause I'm miles away With nothin' to do 'Cept, think about you I just want to be in your panorama Said, I just want to be in your panorama Well, I just want to be in, I just want to be in I just want to, I just want to be in your panorama Well, I just want to be in your panorama (panorama) (Panorama) Well, I just want to be in your panorama (panorama) I just want to be in your panorama (panorama) Panorama (panorama) (Panorama) (Panorama) Well, I just (Panorama) (Panorama) (Panorama) (Panorama) (Panorama)

“Touch And Go”

All I need is what you've got All I'll tell is what you're not All you know is what you hear I get this way when you come near

Then I know it's gone too far Oh, oh, I touched your star And it felt so right Just like the hush of midnight Then you said With me it's touch and go, oh oh oh Touch and go, oh oh oh

All I need is you tonight I'm flying like a cement kite, yeah In your headlock on the floor Who could ever ask for more

And I know it's gone too far Oh, oh, I touch your star And it felt so right Just like the hush of midnight Then you said With me it's touch and go, oh oh oh Touch and go, oh oh oh

All I want is you tonight I guess that dress does fit you tight, yeah You know that look does make me shake It almost looks too good to fake

And I know it's gone too far Oh, oh, I touch your star And it felt so right Just like the hush of midnight Then you said With me it's touch and go, oh oh oh Touch and go, oh oh oh

Well it's touch and go, oh oh oh Touch and go, oh oh oh

Well it's touch and go, oh oh oh Touch and go, oh oh oh

Well it's touch and go, oh oh oh Touch and go, oh oh oh

All I need is what you've got

“Gimme Some Slack”

I wanna shake like La Guardia Magic mouth in the sun Train ride to the courtyard Before you can run

Down at the end of Lonely Street Where no one takes a walk Someone lyin' at your feet And someone's gettin' off

Just gimme some slack, yeah Just gimme some slack Just gimme, slack That's all I want is slack

The seven floors of walkup The odor musted cracks And the peeping keyhole introverts With the monkeys on their backs

And the rooftops strung with fräuleins The pastel pinned up sails The eighteen color roses Against your face so pale

A just gimme some slack, that's right Uh gimme some slack Gimme, slack, ooh yeah All I want is slack

I wanna float like Euripides All visions intact I'm alright with Fellini fiends A trippin' over the track

Down at the end of Lonely Street Where no one takes a chance Someone's in the cheap light Someone wants to dance

Just gimme some slack, that's right All I want is slack Oh, gimme, slack All I want is slack

Gimme, slack Slack Slack Sssslack Slack (Give me the rhythm) Slack

“Don't Tell Me No”

It's my party, you can come It's my party, have some fun It's my dream, have a laugh It's my life, have a half

Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no I like it when you tell me so

It's my transition, it's my play It's my phone call to betray It's my hopscotch, light the torch It's my downtime, feel the scorch

Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no (Don't tell me no) Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no (Don't tell me no) Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no I like it when you tell me no

It's my ambition, it's my joke It's my teardrop, emotional smoke It's my mercy, it's my plan I want to go to futureland

Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no (Don't tell me no) Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no (Don't tell me no) Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no I like it when you tell me so

Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no (Don't tell me no) Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no Don't tell me, I don't want to know

Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no (Don't tell me no) Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no (Don't tell me no) Don't tell me no Don't tell me... no [fade]

“You Wear Those Eyes”

You wear those eyes That never blink You always were The missing link

You painted your mouth You let me know You really are The only show

Just take your time It's not too late I'll be your mirror You won't hesitate

I'm easy to be found Whenever you come down

You got that walk You do the stroll You make me lose My ground control

You got that look I can't resist Like something missing Never kissed

Just take your time (just take your time) It's not too late (it's not too late) I'll be your mirror (just take your time) So you won't hesitate

I'm easy to be found Whenever you come down

You do the pogo Without the bounce You got the name I can't pronounce

You fall in love (you fall in love) You like the sting You make believe (you make believe) It's everything

Just take your time (just take your time) It's not too late (it's not too late) I'll be your mirror (just take your time) So you won't hesitate

I'm easy to be found Whenever you come down

Just take your time It's not too late Just take your time It's not too late Just take your time It's not too late Just take your time It's not too late

Just take your time It's not too late Just take your time It's not too late Just take your time It's not too late Just take your time It's not too late

“Getting Through”

I don't want to be your party doll All flaked out in Tinsel Town Circus mouth shooting all directions With TV ads that sell erections

I got no clue what they want to do with you It's just getting through, getting through to you

Living outside the misdemeanor Some get lost and some are screamers It's easy to tell the great pretender Broken wings and flip top fenders

I got no clue what they want to do with you It's just getting through, getting through to you

I don't want to be your suffering box Argue art or untie your knots I don't want to be your bad connection Or fit into your reality vision

I got no clue what they want to do with you It's just getting through, getting through to you

“Misfit Kid”

I dream frequently, sometimes they come out funny I go through insanity, all they want is money All these parties they get so habitual The same sea of faces Always pushin', always pullin' Always in the races

I get cooled out I get the come ons I get rumbled I get cru-u-umbled, yeah

I'm the American misfit kid I'm still wonderin' what I did

I'm stiletto, so so sharp and I'm willin' to cut Sometimes nebulous, well I'm ready to strut Lost and frantic, new age romantic I'm checkin' out the race I never cared about what it meant Always loved disgrace

I get rhythm I get cornflakes I get fast love I get wasted, yeah

I'm the American misfit kid Still wonderin' what I did I'm on the inside, takin' a fast ride (I'm on the inside, takin' a fast ride)

I dream frequently, sometimes they come out funny, ha I live with absurdity, it's always warm and runny And all these parties they get so ritual Lonely hearts and aces Always pushin', a-always pullin', always in the races

I get cooled out I get the come ons I get rumbled I get cru-u-u-umbled, yeah

I'm the American misfit kid I'm still wonderin' what I did I'm on the inside, takin' a fast ride

I'm the American misfit kid I'm still wonderin' what I did I'm on the inside, takin' a fast ride

That's right

I get cooled out I get the come ons I get rumbled I get cru-umbled

I get Cornflakes Fast love, wasted [fade]

Some photos take your breath away. And some, will steal your heart.

Rose petals have fallen neat upon her freshly-drifted snow, painting her lips in perfection.

The mounds of her cheeks, rosy with warmth and comfort— flushed with love given so thoughtfully, so freely.

The gaze of a universe ringed in amber and honey, piercing space and time, soul and the shields of discretion.

Eyes that see hearts and minds— and melt them all the same.

Bordered by a storm of silver and thick gold slicks— evidence of a life charged with experience, wisdom, and elegance.

A frame lit like a poem scribbled on a pane of morning frost— an artist racing to capture it lest the moment slip away.

The cold can be damned.

For this is the fitting presentation of the masterpiece of her.

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#confession #essay #story # journal #poetry #wyst #poetry #100daystooffset #writing #story #osxs #geneva #travel

I’m so incredibly fortunate to have the financial privilege to get a 0% mortgage from my dad to buy a house. I think about how A talked about how nepotism is the goal of being a parent in some way, because it’s essentially setting your kids up for the best shot at life from the lens of the “game” I guess. I do think about how I’ve been set up for generational wealth in a way, and how hard my parents must have worked to give me this opportunity. I know that I’ve also worked really hard for this, but absolutely a lot of people didn’t get this shot in the first place.

When Power Is Performance, Not Strength

I. Naming the Shift 

Something has changed in how power is spoken about — and more importantly, in how it is defended.

Many people sense it but struggle to name it, because naming it requires admitting that what feels satisfying in the moment may be hollowing something we depend on. The unease isn’t panic. It isn’t outrage. It’s the quiet recognition that the rules governing restraint, legitimacy, and dignity are being loosened — and that we are being told this loosening is strength.

This isn’t about a single leader or party. It isn’t about personality. Focusing there misses the deeper problem.

What’s shifting is the moral behavior of power itself.

We are being trained — slowly, persistently — to accept domination as decisiveness, humiliation as honesty, and impulse as courage. And once those behaviors are normalized, they don’t stay contained. They spread — downward, outward, and eventually inward.

This is not about who holds power.

It is about what power is being permitted to become.

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II. The Pattern of Strength-as-Domination

The word strength has been quietly redefined.

It is no longer measured by restraint or legitimacy, but by the willingness to dominate. By how quickly one can take what can be taken, humiliate who can be humiliated, and dismiss limits as weakness. What once would have been called impulse is now praised as resolve. What once required justification now claims virtue simply by being forceful.

This version of strength feels satisfying because it removes friction. It bypasses deliberation. It answers complexity with certainty and doubt with volume. It reassures those who feel ignored that someone is finally willing to act — regardless of how.

But historically, strength was understood differently.

Strength once meant the capacity to govern without constant spectacle.

It meant credibility that did not require daily reinforcement.

It meant coalition — the ability to persuade rather than coerce.

It meant restraint paired with resolve, not restraint replaced by impulse.

Strong nations did not prove their strength by how often they flexed it, but by how rarely they needed to.

When strength becomes indistinguishable from domination, power loses its center. It no longer knows when to stop. And what begins as decisiveness hardens into compulsion — impressive in motion, brittle under pressure.

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III. Spectacle Over Stewardship

As restraint erodes, spectacle rushes in to fill the gap.

Spectacle feels like leadership because it is visible. It rewards attention, rallies loyalty, and creates the illusion of momentum. It simplifies complexity into conflict and replaces patience with adrenaline. The public stays engaged — but only at the level of reaction.

This is not governance.

This is stimulation.

Stewardship requires continuity, institutional memory, and a willingness to act quietly when drama would be easier. Spectacle, by contrast, feeds on escalation. Every moment must be louder than the last. Every conflict must be framed as existential. Every compromise becomes betrayal.

The cost accumulates slowly, then all at once.

Policies lose coherence because attention shifts too quickly to sustain them.

Institutions weaken as they are treated as obstacles rather than safeguards.

Public trust erodes as rules appear to change depending on who holds power.

Fatigue sets in — not just among opponents, but among supporters forced to remain constantly mobilized.

Mobilization can move crowds.

But mobilization cannot maintain a nation.

A society cannot live indefinitely in a state of spectacle without hollowing its capacity to govern itself. What looks like energy is often depletion. What feels like momentum is often drift. And power that feeds on constant conflict eventually turns on the structures that once gave it shape.

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IV. Moral Inversion as a Tool of Power

Power does not operate on force alone. It requires moral permission.

That permission is created through inversion — when behaviors that once triggered alarm are reframed as virtues, and virtues are recast as liabilities. Cruelty becomes “honesty.” Empathy becomes weakness. Restraint becomes cowardice. Dissent becomes disloyalty.

This inversion is not accidental.

It is efficient.

When cruelty is praised as authenticity, conscience becomes an obstacle.

When empathy is mocked, responsibility can be shed.

When disagreement is framed as betrayal, loyalty replaces judgment.

Over time, people are trained not just to tolerate this shift, but to defend it — because to question it would require admitting that something they applauded is now costing more than they expected.

The most corrosive effect is not outrage, but confusion. Moral language loses coherence. People sense that something is wrong, but lack the vocabulary to name it without feeling disloyal. And so the inversion holds — not because everyone agrees with it, but because resistance begins to feel isolating.

When virtue is redefined to match aggression, moral clarity becomes a liability. And once that happens, power no longer needs to justify itself. It only needs to perform.

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V. Foreign Policy Signals and the Global Echo

Power never speaks only to its own people.

It signals outward.

When leaders speak casually about land, resources, or sovereignty — when claims are framed in terms of entitlement rather than legitimacy — those words are not received as bravado. They are received as precedent.

Other nations are listening. Not with admiration, but with calculation.

The message heard is simple:

might precedes right.

Force establishes legitimacy.

Restraint is optional.

That message does not strengthen a nation’s standing. It weakens it. Because once moral authority is abandoned, influence is reduced to coercion — and coercion invites imitation, not respect.

Russia hears it.

China hears it.

Every state watching for permission hears it.

A nation that treats its power as unconstrained should not be surprised when others follow suit. Moral authority is not a luxury. It is a stabilizing force. When it is discarded, the international order does not become more honest — it becomes more dangerous.

Power can take territory.

Only legitimacy can hold a future.

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VI. Strength That Hollows a Nation

This is the paradox that is hardest to accept: the version of strength being celebrated now does not fortify a nation — it hollows it.

Internal division weakens cohesion.

Norm erosion weakens institutions.

Contempt weakens trust.

Fear can rally crowds, but it cannot sustain a society. Anger can mobilize energy, but it cannot build durability. A nation held together by grievance must constantly generate new enemies to remain unified.

History is unambiguous on this point.

Empires do not fall because they are challenged from the outside. They fall because they become brittle on the inside — because the very tools used to demonstrate strength erode the structures that make strength possible.

When power demands loyalty over integrity, spectacle over stewardship, and domination over legitimacy, it may appear formidable for a time. But what it is actually doing is consuming its own foundations.

Strength that forgets dignity eventually forgets what it is for.

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VII. The Hard Truth About Public Support

One of the most difficult realizations in this moment is not about leadership, but about ourselves.

It is the recognition that there is no longer a shared agreement on dignity.

This divide is often described as political, but that description no longer reaches the depth of it. The fracture is not primarily about policy preferences or governing philosophy. It is about who counts, whose pain is visible, and which lives are allowed to be treated as expendable in the name of strength.

To acknowledge this is not to demonize those who cheer. Many do so out of fear, exhaustion, or a desire to feel protected in a world that feels unstable. Understanding that does not require excusing the cost.

There is grief in realizing that appeals to decency no longer land where they once did.

Grief in seeing cruelty defended not reluctantly, but enthusiastically.

Grief in recognizing that what once united us — a baseline commitment to dignity — is no longer assumed.

This grief does not make one superior.

It makes one honest.

The divide is not about disagreement.

It is about moral orientation.

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VIII. What This Moment Requires of Citizens

If this moment teaches anything, it is that shouting will not restore what has been lost.

Neither will despair.

What is required now is a different posture — one that refuses both cruelty and passivity. One that holds moral clarity without spectacle, and conviction without contempt.

This does not mean withdrawing from public life.

It means living differently within it.

Refusing to normalize dehumanization, even when it is popular.

Choosing restraint where impulse is rewarded.

Remembering that dignity is not a tactic, but a commitment.

Citizens are not powerless in moments like this — but their power is not found in matching volume or outrage. It is found in refusing cooperation with what corrodes trust, fractures communities, and hollows institutions.

You do not have to shout to resist what degrades us.

You do not have to dominate to remain strong.

You do not have to abandon conscience to survive.

Strength that forgets dignity eventually forgets what it is for.

And a nation is weakened not when it is challenged —

but when it abandons what once made it worth defending.

© SilentSentinel, 2025. All rights reserved. Excerpts may be shared with attribution.

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Cuando el poder es espectáculo, no fortaleza

I. Nombrar el cambio

Algo ha cambiado en la manera en que se habla del poder — y, más importante aún, en cómo se lo defiende.

Muchas personas lo perciben, pero les cuesta ponerle nombre, porque nombrarlo exige admitir que aquello que resulta satisfactorio en el momento puede estar vaciando algo de lo que dependemos. La inquietud no es pánico. No es indignación. Es el reconocimiento silencioso de que las reglas que gobernaban la moderación, la legitimidad y la dignidad se están aflojando — y de que se nos está diciendo que ese aflojamiento es fortaleza.

Esto no trata de un solo líder ni de un partido. No trata de personalidades. Enfocarse ahí es perder el problema más profundo.

Lo que está cambiando es el comportamiento moral del poder mismo.

Estamos siendo entrenados — lenta y persistentemente — a aceptar la dominación como decisión, la humillación como franqueza y el impulso como valentía. Y una vez que estos comportamientos se normalizan, no permanecen contenidos. Se propagan — hacia abajo, hacia afuera y, finalmente, hacia adentro.

Esto no trata de quién detenta el poder.

Trata de en qué se le está permitiendo convertirse al poder.

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II. El patrón de la fortaleza como dominación

La palabra fortaleza ha sido redefinida silenciosamente.

Ya no se mide por la moderación ni por la legitimidad, sino por la disposición a dominar. Por la rapidez con que se puede tomar lo que se pueda tomar, humillar a quien se pueda humillar y descartar los límites como debilidad. Lo que antes se llamaba impulso ahora se celebra como determinación. Lo que antes requería justificación ahora reclama virtud simplemente por ser contundente.

Esta versión de la fortaleza resulta satisfactoria porque elimina la fricción. Evita la deliberación. Responde a la complejidad con certeza y a la duda con volumen. Tranquiliza a quienes se han sentido ignorados al ver que alguien por fin está dispuesto a actuar — sin importar cómo.

Pero históricamente, la fortaleza se entendía de otra manera.

Fortaleza significaba la capacidad de gobernar sin espectáculo constante.

Significaba credibilidad que no necesitaba refuerzo diario.

Significaba coalición — la capacidad de persuadir en lugar de coaccionar.

Significaba moderación acompañada de resolución, no moderación reemplazada por impulso.

Las naciones fuertes no demostraban su fortaleza por la frecuencia con que la exhibían, sino por lo poco que necesitaban hacerlo.

Cuando la fortaleza se vuelve indistinguible de la dominación, el poder pierde su centro. Ya no sabe cuándo detenerse. Y lo que comienza como decisión se endurece en compulsión — impresionante en movimiento, frágil bajo presión.

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III. Espectáculo en lugar de mayordomía

A medida que la moderación se erosiona, el espectáculo irrumpe para llenar el vacío.

El espectáculo se siente como liderazgo porque es visible. Recompensa la atención, reúne lealtades y crea la ilusión de impulso. Simplifica la complejidad en conflicto y reemplaza la paciencia por adrenalina. El público permanece involucrado — pero solo al nivel de la reacción.

Esto no es gobernar.

Esto es estimulación.

La mayordomía requiere continuidad, memoria institucional y la disposición a actuar en silencio cuando el drama sería más fácil. El espectáculo, en cambio, se alimenta de la escalada. Cada momento debe ser más ruidoso que el anterior. Cada conflicto debe presentarse como existencial. Cada compromiso se convierte en traición.

El costo se acumula lentamente, y luego de golpe.

Las políticas pierden coherencia porque la atención cambia demasiado rápido para sostenerlas.

Las instituciones se debilitan al ser tratadas como obstáculos en lugar de salvaguardas.

La confianza pública se erosiona cuando las reglas parecen cambiar según quién ejerza el poder.

Se instala el agotamiento — no solo entre los opositores, sino también entre los seguidores obligados a mantenerse constantemente movilizados.

La movilización puede mover multitudes.

Pero la movilización no puede sostener una nación.

Una sociedad no puede vivir indefinidamente en estado de espectáculo sin vaciar su capacidad de gobernarse a sí misma. Lo que parece energía suele ser agotamiento. Lo que se siente como impulso suele ser deriva. Y el poder que se alimenta del conflicto constante termina volviéndose contra las estructuras que le dieron forma.

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IV. La inversión moral como herramienta del poder

El poder no opera solo mediante la fuerza. Requiere permiso moral.

Ese permiso se crea mediante la inversión — cuando conductas que antes provocaban alarma se redefinen como virtudes, y las virtudes se recastan como debilidades. La crueldad se convierte en “honestidad”. La empatía en debilidad. La moderación en cobardía. La disidencia en deslealtad.

Esta inversión no es accidental.

Es eficiente.

Cuando la crueldad se celebra como autenticidad, la conciencia se vuelve un obstáculo.

Cuando la empatía se ridiculiza, la responsabilidad puede desecharse.

Cuando el desacuerdo se presenta como traición, la lealtad reemplaza al juicio.

Con el tiempo, las personas no solo aprenden a tolerar este cambio, sino a defenderlo — porque cuestionarlo exigiría admitir que algo que aplaudieron está costando más de lo que esperaban.

El efecto más corrosivo no es la indignación, sino la confusión. El lenguaje moral pierde coherencia. Las personas sienten que algo está mal, pero carecen del vocabulario para nombrarlo sin sentirse desleales. Y así la inversión se mantiene — no porque todos estén de acuerdo, sino porque resistir comienza a sentirse aislante.

Cuando la virtud se redefine para encajar con la agresión, la claridad moral se convierte en una carga. Y una vez que eso ocurre, el poder ya no necesita justificarse. Solo necesita actuar.

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V. Señales de política exterior y el eco global

El poder nunca habla solo a su propio pueblo.

Señala hacia afuera.

Cuando los líderes hablan con ligereza sobre tierras, recursos o soberanía — cuando las reclamaciones se formulan en términos de derecho en lugar de legitimidad — esas palabras no se reciben como fanfarronería. Se reciben como precedente.

Otras naciones están escuchando. No con admiración, sino con cálculo.

El mensaje que se oye es simple:

la fuerza precede al derecho.

la coerción establece legitimidad.

la moderación es opcional.

Ese mensaje no fortalece la posición de una nación. La debilita. Porque cuando se abandona la autoridad moral, la influencia se reduce a la coerción — y la coerción invita a la imitación, no al respeto.

Rusia lo oye.

China lo oye.

Todo Estado atento a una señal de permiso lo oye.

Una nación que trata su poder como ilimitado no debería sorprenderse cuando otros hagan lo mismo. La autoridad moral no es un lujo. Es una fuerza estabilizadora. Cuando se descarta, el orden internacional no se vuelve más honesto — se vuelve más peligroso.

El poder puede tomar territorio.

Solo la legitimidad puede sostener un futuro.

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VI. La fortaleza que vacía a una nación

Esta es la paradoja más difícil de aceptar: la versión de fortaleza que hoy se celebra no fortalece a una nación — la vacía.

La división interna debilita la cohesión.

La erosión de normas debilita las instituciones.

El desprecio debilita la confianza.

El miedo puede reunir multitudes, pero no puede sostener una sociedad. La ira puede movilizar energía, pero no puede construir durabilidad. Una nación cohesionada por el agravio debe generar constantemente nuevos enemigos para mantenerse unida.

La historia es clara en este punto.

Los imperios no caen porque sean desafiados desde fuera. Caen porque se vuelven frágiles por dentro — porque las mismas herramientas utilizadas para demostrar fortaleza erosionan las estructuras que la hacen posible.

Cuando el poder exige lealtad en lugar de integridad, espectáculo en lugar de mayordomía y dominación en lugar de legitimidad, puede parecer formidable por un tiempo. Pero lo que en realidad está haciendo es consumir sus propios cimientos.

La fortaleza que olvida la dignidad termina olvidando para qué existe.

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VII. La verdad difícil sobre el apoyo público

Una de las realizaciones más dolorosas de este momento no tiene que ver con el liderazgo, sino con nosotros mismos.

Es el reconocimiento de que ya no existe un acuerdo compartido sobre la dignidad.

Esta división suele describirse como política, pero esa descripción ya no alcanza. La fractura no trata principalmente de preferencias de política pública ni de filosofías de gobierno. Trata de quién cuenta, de qué dolor es visible y de qué vidas se consideran prescindibles en nombre de la fortaleza.

Reconocer esto no implica demonizar a quienes aplauden. Muchos lo hacen desde el miedo, el agotamiento o el deseo de sentirse protegidos en un mundo inestable. Comprender eso no exige excusar el costo.

Hay duelo en aceptar que los llamados a la decencia ya no resuenan donde antes lo hacían.

Duelo en ver la crueldad defendida no a regañadientes, sino con entusiasmo.

Duelo en reconocer que lo que antes nos unía — un compromiso básico con la dignidad — ya no se da por sentado.

Este duelo no vuelve superior a nadie.

Lo vuelve honesto.

La división no trata del desacuerdo.

Trata de la orientación moral.

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VIII. Lo que este momento exige de los ciudadanos

Si este momento enseña algo, es que gritar no restaurará lo que se ha perdido.

Tampoco lo hará la desesperanza.

Lo que se requiere ahora es una postura diferente — una que rechace tanto la crueldad como la pasividad. Una que mantenga claridad moral sin espectáculo, y convicción sin desprecio.

Esto no significa retirarse de la vida pública.

Significa vivir de manera distinta dentro de ella.

Rechazar normalizar la deshumanización, incluso cuando es popular.

Elegir la moderación cuando el impulso es recompensado.

Recordar que la dignidad no es una táctica, sino un compromiso.

Los ciudadanos no son impotentes en momentos como este — pero su poder no se encuentra en igualar el volumen ni la indignación. Se encuentra en negarse a cooperar con lo que corroe la confianza, fractura las comunidades y vacía las instituciones.

No es necesario gritar para resistir lo que nos degrada.

No es necesario dominar para seguir siendo fuerte.

No es necesario abandonar la conciencia para sobrevivir.

La fortaleza que olvida la dignidad termina olvidando para qué existe.

Y una nación se debilita no cuando es desafiada —

sino cuando abandona aquello que la hacía digna de ser defendida.

© SilentSentinel, 2025. Todos los derechos reservados. Se pueden compartir extractos con atribución.

In Summary: * I heard President Trump's Address to the Nation tonight, all 20 minutes of it, and learned nothing new. He touted the economic successes of his Administration during this, his first year in office. As one who follows the news closely, and his frequent posts on his Truth Social platform, I was aware of everything he spoke about tonight. There was nothing new nor alarming revealed. So I should sleep easy tonight.

Prayers, etc.: * My daily prayers

Health Metrics: * bw= 220.35 lbs. * bp= 140/84 (66)

Exercise: * kegel pelvic floor exercise, half squats, calf raises, wall push-ups

Diet: * 05:50 – toast & butter * 06:35 – 1 banana * 07:00 – 2 blueberry muffins * 09:00 – noodles w. cheese sauce * 11:00 – home made meat & vegetables soup * 12:00 – beef chop suey, egg drop soup, Rangoon * 17:00 – bowl of soup.

Activities, Chores, etc.: * 04:30 – listen to local news talk radio * 05:40 – bank accounts activity monitored * 06:00 – read, pray, follow news reports from various sources, surf the socials * 12:00 – watch old game shows and eat lunch at home with Sylvia * 17:20 – tuned into the Xavier Sports Network to listen to the Radio Call of tonight's NCAA men's basketball game between the Creighton Bluejays and the Xavier Musketeers, opening tip is minutes away. Let's Go X! * 19:25 – Creighton won, final score: Bluejays 98 – Musketeers 57 * 19:30 – President Trump's address to the nation is coming up in half an hour. Shall work on my night prayers until then. Depending on the content of his speech, I'll ready myself for bed after that.

Chess: * 17:05 – moved in all pending CC games