Been having one of my sleepy days, so I didn’t even get started on today’s vid until 5 pm, which by the vague sort of schedule in my head is about two hours late.

Now I have to tippity type a thousand words and then get ready for a guest. Which would not really be all the big a deal, but all I really want to do is go back to bed.

Yes, it’s after 6 pm and I am still sleepy. So far it’s the pleasant sort of sleepiness which makes you feel cozy and relaxed and comfortable, but there’s no guarantee that will last.

The usual pattern at this point is that I will end up in that highly unpleasant state where I end up sleeping all day, only waking up long enough to blearily eat, write, and eliminate, and the dreams I have are so vivid and intense that it leaves me feeling like I have taken a very long and thorough beating.

Oh, and waking up in a lake of my own sweat, too. Can’t leave that out. Because it’s horribly gross.

One of these days, I will get the gumption together to flip my mattress. That at least will flip it to a side I haven’t drooled or sweated into for like, years.

That must count for something.

I swear, if there was like, a “we clean your mattress right in your own home! Guaranteed to make it as fresh as the day it came out of the factory or your money back!” service out there, I would find a way to pay them whatever they charge.

Anything to get all the stale sweat out of it.

Meanwhile, in Australia, a fellow has written a 99 page comprehensive guide to himself that such an extraordinary document that it is making the rounds online.

Sure, it makes him seem like a total narcissist. But a highly organized, thorough narcissist, and that’s something I admire in a person.

The idea is that this ponderous document containing, in extraordinary and let me add very candid detail, is to be handed to prospective lady companions so that they can find the answers to any, and I mean absolutely ANY, questions they might have about him.

And given this guy’s obsessive self-involvement, having a way to get to know him without actually spending time to him might be for the best.

I mean, can you imagine trying to make small talk with this guy?

You’d ask “So um…. do you like swimming?”
And he’d just roll his eyes and say “If you had bothered to do the required reading, you would know that I was a competitive swimming in third, fourth, and part of fifth grade, but that due to an inner ear injury I suffered on May 27th, 1993, I can no longer swim without throwing up. ”

So much for the “getting to know you” phase.

Now it’s easy (and fun!) to make fun of this guy for being this self-involved, and he does seem a tad delusional (he claims to have an eleven inch cock with a fat head, and that he got computer science and law degrees by the time he was 22… oh, and that his semen tastes great), it’s not necessarily as bad as it sounds from the description.

It’s just slightly possible that he is not the raging dickbag he seems like and is just a highly intelligent and organized person who got a little carried away when coming up with a dating profile for himself and ended up making himself look, to put it mildly, foolish.

But odds are that nobody could write a document like that without being just a little too into themselves.

I am sure there are ladies out there who would be quite pleased to be able to research him so thoroughly before they even meet and who don’t mind his self-involvement because it means he will not pester THEM as much as other men do.

And I sincerely hope this Internet kerfuffle helps him meet those ladies.

But for now, all we can do is gape in wonder.

I mean, he starts the thing with a fucking glossary.

Still feel like something big is happening inside me, although today it feels more like something is moving through me like a shadow crossing a room over the space of a day, and the terror I felt before has given way to something more like a mixture of awe and dread.

So that’s progress, of a sort. It feels like a process which is unfolding as it should. I have no idea where it all will end, but I have faith that it will lead, one way or another, to an emotionally lighter, stronger, and freer me, so all is good.

It is hard to learn to have faith when you are forty years old and have led, in the religious sense, a completely and totally faithless life. A life in which you have had nothing but contempt for the idea of filling the gaps in one’s knowledge of the world with dreams called faith, and who has repeatedly said that he would rather believe that which is known and true than emotionally invest in the shifting sands of delusion and falsehood.

But as I grow older and the world seems colder, I realize that even a mind like mind is limited and finite, and the business of living sometimes requires going forth despite incomplete knowledge of what you are doing or how it all will end, and what solution is there for that but faith?

Maybe not religious faith (I don’t think I am capable of it) but some kind of faith that things will turn out okay eventually, and that it is good to be alive and experiencing the world.

Something has to fill those gaps if we are to be whole. We cannot waste our lives waiting for life to make the first move and just give us those things.

Something has to go in there until we get those other things. Maybe not the same things as our parents and their parents, but…. something.

And I call that something faith… and I am developing my capacity for it.

I will grow up even if it kills me.

Oh, and here’s today’s vid. It’s about something I really care about.