Update on a Lost Weekend.

It was such a beautiful evening that I roundly forsook the search for my previously discarded panties.  I was in such a mental state, as it were, coursing between emotions as if they were great boulders on some mountain path, and as Camus said, "we must imagine Mike happy".  Indeed, tomorrow will come, and with tomorrow, some of the same drudgery and busywork, but there will be time for transcendent thought and contemplation of God-these moments recompense and sound compensation for moments of servitude and the seeing-to.

I took the air sometime late in the day, and had of it, not questions answered, because it wasn't a query, not something like a Google search, but an impetus to just "see", to look upon the world with eyes that had a kind of half-satisfaction in the day, and a half-emptiness knowing there would be more later; I ran a project since January 2023, an analytics project, collecting data.  I see so many ads and apps and things talking about automation, but I figure the cost of my few moments every day or so, is less than the "automation suite" and it would require some exotic API from Google to truly automate the process.  The cost of a software solution would far overbalance the cost of a few moments a day, and in those few moments, I get a real time check-in and checking-on, every day.

every damn day.

With diligence, it is, that the father Dorkfish cleans the Dorkfish eggs, with his mouth, cleaning them off, depriving them of any protection from various algae and so forth, mold, every day, a fish of merit, the Dorkfish, the Joey of the world aquatic, and we exercise this diligence, my own concern, that is, in a small start each day, not but a few moments, and inputting the data, collecting the metrics: I note I managed some equations to automate some of that, but its balanced against manually-reported Google Analytics and so forth, such that the process is day by day illuminating, as I can check the pulse of the work, but at the same time, input the larger data set for a more thorough review later, and possibly yet more lines of analysis.

I was thinking of a superset of music, a live music piece with about five or seven songs intermixed in between, along with some solo work of the various band members, things from Howlin' Wolf to Coldplay to Megadeth, a kind of thing some bands do, and some bands do NOT, rather than just rehashing singles and so forth, a kind of good music note, like I watched the Led Zeppelin concert film and they sandwiched their own song Dazed And Confused acting as bookend around various bits like "San Francisco" and some other, and even Jimmy Page playing the Gibson electric guitar with a violin bow as his plectrum.

I used a baby diaper, of course, not Mother's Shine or something, but something ripshit soft on the surface of Christine, giving the work loving attention, as if I were at once the Dorkfish cleaning the eggs with my mouth; it had that gloss, like red lips in a magazine, that kind of dew-drop thing about it, like she had still had some kind of fruit gore, and my own search for my own panties not bearing fruit, as she had the fruit, instead, I guess, and all I had was my wants from a selection: that and nothing more.