What a strange and bizarre, yet pretty much ordinary weekend this has been. Mentally in a fog.

Seriously, all day today. I think I spent more daylight hours today unconscious that I did conscious. And all of the most fucked up dreams you can't imagine. Nightmares, bliss, or some sickly distorded mirror version of reality?

I promptly awoke at 2000 out of a very odd dream in which I had viewed the X Files season premiere, only to... well, view the X Files season premiere. No, I am not kidding. I had a dream about viewing the X Files season premiere just prior to the actual premiere itself. I think Xena and Gabrielle might have been in there somewhere too, but I'm not sure just how. (Ain't it wild? All the shows that are gonna be no more after this season?)

Missed the teaser. Got in midway through the main title, mind in a totally fucked up fog. (I'm not real big on using the f word continuously in my ramblings, but it applies here. It just does.) Didn't help that the standard sequence of images had been altered to the point of... well, another smack to Bitscape's poor sleep-drenched, snow encrusted brain. Eyes barely focusing after the dead sleep. And all those wacky, trippy vocals on the soundtrack.... ueueueuouogghsnthsnth.

That pretty much describes my mental process.

As I was saying, I spent most of today (and a good deal of yesterday) in a state of unconscious surreal not-quite-bliss dreamland. I think the Dream Gods have been having a little bit too much fun at my expense. (I'd say Morpheus, but then everybody thinks of The Matrix, which isn't exactly the image I'm going for here.) I guess that's what I get for turning to Them in an effort to seek solace from my own demonic energies (or lack thereof).

During the hours I was awake yesterday, I churned through to the end of "When, Why ...If" Robin Wood. Second time around, do the excercises. We'll see if I'm up to the challenge. I think I am, if I will to complete it. If.

Last night, Jaeger also gave me a lesson in the ways of the dark side. Or... yeah. Obtaining viewable copies of choice television episodes via irc over high bandwidth lines. Screw network schedules. Screw commercials. Screw VCRs. Instant download is the way to go...

eerrr, maybe not all that "instant". Ya find an fserv that has what you want, ya put yourself in the queue, you stay in the channel and wait until it gets all the other people waiting through its queue, then download for a couple hours. (That's over broadband. Don't even think about trying this with a modem.) Then, you view.

Not too bad, actually. Definitely the way to go if you miss an episode of something, or forgot to tape, or have hideous reception (ahem, UPN, ahem), or feel like looking into the archives. I doubt I would care to adopt it as a method for regular weekly viewings of shows I otherwise have no trouble getting over the air though. Nice for fallback though.

So yeah, I watched last week's Dark Angel on my PC screen this morning. Pretty wacky.

Watched the second Woodstock reel today. One thing I still can't figure out: Why did they, immediately after the first song on the second real, put up a little "Interfuckingmission" lettering? Why not make intermission between the reels? Very strange.

So yeah, I guess you could say I've had my dose of old music this weekend. Oh, and at the end credits, they did identify all the bands with accompanying pictures. Much better.

...

Not sure how to put this into words. Tried twice already, found myself at deadend blocks, and did some dd-ing. Maybe the way is just to free associate every goddamn thought that passes through my head and let it be put on the web page. No censorship. Just let it go.

If I am honest, I would have to concede that I have been fairly down this weekend. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically, yes. And spiritually. Just down. How else can I really describe it?

I started to type that I've been feeling the futility of it all, but I don't think that's quite the case. Perhaps the futility of myself. But even that doesn't work. It's not futile. Just really dreary sometimes. There is a difference. I have felt the futile before. This is not it.

I feel weak. On more than one level. I feel lonely. IRC and email is great. Up to a point. There are times when I just wish there was someone -- anyone -- who I could really talk face to face with. About anything and everything. But at this point in the continuium of my existence, there is not. So I face the facts, deal with it, and proceed as best I can.

In the case of these last couple days, that has consisted of waking up, walking around, looking out the window. "Oh, what a sunny / snowy / beatiful / ugly day outside." Shrug. Look around. Check slashdot. Back to bed.

No, I am not joking.

Despite the fact that I've done little more than sit here, sleep, mess with motion video software on Argo, and... sleep, there has in fact been a vigorous war going on. Fought continuously, underneath the lazy veneer. The battle against the self destructive impulse.

At a time like this, it is so easy to throw away hope. To give up on my faith in the world, my faith in life, my faith in myself as a worthwhile creature. Too easy to believe that because I don't know where I'm going, because there is no one to hang out with, because my job seems to get more mundane, meaningless, and unfulfilling with each passing day, and because I'm sitting in a room surrounded by piles of... stuff... that I am somehow unfit, or undeserving of the fullness of life.

THAT line of thought, when followed, can become a VERY self-perpetuating spiral. I've been down it enough times before to know that it's not where I want to go.

And so I fight. I stand for my own basic worth as a person against those forces within myself which seek to tear it down. I fight in my wakefulness. I fight in my sleep. And I go on.

Problem is, one expends so much energy fighting, and suddenly, it's late Sunday night, and... goddamn! Where has the weekend gone?

But at least I'm still more or less here, more or less in tact, and more or less ready to begin another week at the grind. (Speaking of grinds. Anybody want to hire a programmer? Ya know, this thing called making software? Creating code? Ring a bell? Blah. That's another rambling, for another day, really. I'm not sending my resume anywhere yet. The time may come though. We'll see. There's actually still a lot of good things about my job. No matter how good the trappings, the benefits, and the people, when the work itself leaves you wishing you were somewhere else at the end of every day, day after day, well... that takes its toll. Especially when promises were made months ago about... blah. Like I say, another rambling. Another day. Maybe.)

And I just sit here and find myself contemplating. What the hell am I even doing? My life? Where am I going with it? Anywhere? Where do I want to go with it? That's an even tougher one to answer.

Of course, these are the sorts of questions the book I recently read prompts one to ask. Even though I haven't started on the full exercise pass yet, I'm already struggling with my own answers.

Groan. I think I know what my mentor would say right now. It would be one word. The word I hate, that I wish wasn't required, and that is really, truly necessary for me. It sucks.

Well, vultures, there's the "content" for this day. I will shortly attempt to focus my mind, stormy seas around.