-Mobile continuation from Xanga blog PinkyGuerrero, this blog is PinkyGuerrero, ongoing continuation at blogs Pinky & Janika & Basically Clueless & PinkFeldspar, in that order.
-Most of the graphics and vids click to sources.
-Personal blog for Janika Banks.
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Wednesday, October 7, 2015

see what I did there


Had a good talk yesterday with someone who's known me a very long time about how something has changed this year. My attitude? My focus? My emotional health? I'm dealing with stuff left and right and aspienado is starting to blow for realz.

So it's not just me. Something's really changing. After all the stuff I've been through, I'm going to point at more brain healing. The brain is nerve central, and I've been living with a nervous system disorder most of my life that complicated into years of nasty, sticky, foggy mess during one illness after another hitting my already compromised nervous system.


This is the year I'm turning the big corner. This is the year I really get my brain back. And I'm going to do everything in my power to keep it that way.

Part of my years-long blogging has included miles of encryptions. No one's ever sure who or what I'm really talking about, even the people closest to me. It's all a big, long tapestry of words scattered across space and time that don't have a lot of impact except to those who've known me well enough to guess. When I go back through some of that, I see what I was doing, but at the time, I was messed up, drifting through a fog so think I could barely see my own hands typing in front of my face (metaphorically). (I think my biggest frustration as a writer is trying to convey visual concepts as metaphors, like an artist would, but through words that are sometimes misunderstood as more literal. I'm a literalist myself, but some of my coolest thoughts have blazed to light through imagery.)

But put the scattered strings together, and all new meanings blaze out. Today for #wwwblogs I tweeted links to-
my life as a dangling participle
the emotional value of virtual worth
and bio nazi.


When I write, it kind of looks like I know what I'm doing. Sort of. Can you imagine a painter putting on a blindfold first? Not knowing how the strokes will look all together once the blindfold is off? That's how my blogging has been for me. My memory problems have been so bad that I forget I've written this or that, and when I go back it looks like I knew what I was doing. My blogging over the past year almost looks like a series of planned reveals, but they're not. I fondly call my style 'live blogging', where the reader gets real time real stuff along with me.

And then what you guys don't see is how I put this all back together, by following the trails readers leave through my stats. They seem to go in directions back through old stuff, and I follow to see what they saw, imagining a fresh set of eyes. I'm often surprised at the trails not seeming at all haphazard after the way I've haphazardly patched my blogs together over several months and years.


Faith in the dark is a big thing with me. Some researchers think that synchronicity is a brain thing, some step out and insist it's more. All I know is, accidents, interruptions, and surprises have rarely misled me, and that trying to close myself off from the things that pull me away from my goals tend to make me a lesser person. I keep thinking how glad I am that I got knocked and bounced off my self-scheduled time table over and over. I'm seeing way too much improvement to believe I could have been ready at all before this year and that up till now has been a frustrating waste of my time.

I am my own causal connection, linking my own meaning through time and space, etching "I was here" on the walls of reality, which, in its most basic term, is other people's consciousnesses.

Many years ago I told a guy (a brilliant mathematician, actually) that I don't need to hope for something in my future because it's already there. I just haven't arrived to that spot yet. I believe it is already there. I don't work because I hope, I work because I believe everything I'm doing is taking me there. I work for the joy of work. It's been hard, but since when have I not loved a good challenge? I can't imagine how utterly bored I'd have been if I hadn't had all this junk in my life to figure out like a great big puzzle.

But what is it I'm seeing in my future? I've always seen it. If I live to reach it, I know it will be really cool. But what is cool? For me- that last move before the big checkmate. That last brilliant move that floors the opponent because it was so unexpected. That last dance step with the rapier for the thousandth cut. That last big reveal of an unseen strategy.


I have embraced this all my life. The world is my stage, the pieces have been set, I continue weaving my way in and out, and maybe soon Pinky will

stop being redundant.

I know, it's all out there and I'm just saying it again. Sorry, got a little carried away again with the morning discipline thing. I'm ignoring a cold and grappling with a slight time orientation smash since I suddenly dealt with a big load of stuff last couple of weeks.

So let's wildly distract ourselves, shall we? Might be a little naughty. And hard on the eyes, maybe a precaution if you're easily triggered for seizures. Probably NSFW.