my careless contagion

So, I posted this on my other blog and then my other blog stopped working. Literally stopped working. I can't edit my posts. It also posted it below my previous posts over there, which is something I've never seen before. So I'm posting it here, too, cus nah nah nah nah nah. Clearly, someone or something does not want this out there. But I don't quit easily. Here begins my second attempt at writing about Elizabeth Smart and trauma-based mind control (TBMC). Who knew it would be such a colossal undertaking and fraught with unforeseen obstacles? Perhaps that is dramatic. I worked for two or three hours on a post Weebly decided to delete instead of post, which wasn't even the beginning of sorrows. I also sent myself an email with links I planned to use weeks ago, and the email disappeared. Since writing about TBMC on my old blog, I had a number of similar issues, and it seems the issues followed me. I'm not suggesting something nefarious is happening techn...

I saw someone — fleetingly — who reminded me of her. This is what I have to look forward to, these little snippets of memory as long as I breathe, surprising me from time to time. My feelings for her remain, and the questions remain, too. There were times I wished I could ghost myself into her somehow, to live among her thoughts and feel her heartbeat, to soak up the rhythm and rhyme of such a beautiful creature, to truly understand who she is and why she is what she is. Yes, I want to be like her. No, I don't want to change my gender, but we often desire to be like those we love, emulating them to ridiculous degrees. Psychologists call it mirroring or bonding or whatever label they feel like attaching. But it's just wonderment, sometimes awe, because we found someone really special, and we want to be special like them. We fall far short of being like them, of course, but that does not stop us from trying. Little does she know I already took things she said or did to heart, fo...

  If you haven't heard any 90s songs for a while, the sound of this song may cause a second take. That's good. Because the music in the 90s was better than today. This song sounds a lot more like the 80s than the 90s, though. You could get away with anything in the 80s. Who in the pop sphere uses horns now, anyway? Maybe some latin bands. And there is something to be said for white guys not being allowed to dance, but I digress. My dancing actually looks a lot like this. Ask my son. Yes, you can poke fun at this song. But I love it. Heck, I lived it.  The British band Go West released King of Wishful Thinking in 1990, I believe, on the Pretty Woman soundtrack. Despite some of the sad-sounding lyrics, the song is a lot of fun. Okay, it is downright silly (but they aren't making fun of heartbreak; they know it sucks, and they want to give you a boost). It is eternally upbeat. That is the message, of course. In spite of what happened between he and his lady friend, he remains ...

It is safe to say I sometimes over-apologized in the past. It's hard living with the burden placed upon me in my youth, but this doesn't have anything to do with that. And I think it is fine to say you're sorry about something you had nothing to do with. But when you've done wrong, an apology is necessary. This is a honest and heartfelt apology for many things I wish I could have done better.  I'm sorry, dear girl. I'm sorry I wasn't enough the first time we had a chance at forever. I'm sorry I interrupted your life with my unrepentant dreams of you and me. If I could go back and do it again, you know I'd do it differently.  I'm sorry I didn't quit pursuing you when I should have. I'm sorry I made you mad at me. And oh so sad. But, like Babe Ruth said, "It is hard to beat someone who never gives up." My persistence only made you sad and angry with me and drove you away. I lost a friend because I wanted so much more. I lost our f...

I wrote this October 16 but didn't post it. There is something bothering me about it, but I can't put my finger on it. I feel God is working on my heart, and maybe I need to be quiet for a while. I produced a lot of "talking" here but not a whole lot of listening. Here it is, nonetheless. If anyone is still reading, thank you. You endured many of my storms and for really no reason at all. You must have found something worth reading. I can't take credit for that, however, because I pray about what I write. Sometimes our prayers seemingly go out into the ether and never return, so I may never know who read something here that was helpful. Maybe you were simply captured by the drama of it all. But it is time for something new. With the opening of one door, we often close another. This is something I prayed about, so we'll see what the answer is, but it looks like I'm ready to step away from blogger (which is Google). I intend to finish for good the most endur...

Scene: phone booth in the rain (clearly a retro scene), a man fumbles for change, inserts two quarters, and listens to the mechanical whir of the phone dialing ... Hello? Hello, Cindy.  Josh ... sigh.  Just let me say what I need to say.  Just one last time. I know you won't tell me what I want to hear. Or maybe you won't say anything at all. But I'm asking for an answer. Whatever answer you have, I accept. Whatever your heart involuntarily says. And then I will politely walk away one last time. I don't want to beg, but I will. Please, Cindy, take my hand and walk with me through the rest of our lives. I know this world is troubled, but so am I without you. I can't promise you much but my endless love. I don't want to miss out on a single day of your life. I already missed so much. So, please, be gentle with me one last time. And say what needs to be said. I will accept your answer — yes or no — with dignity. I will hold my head high because I tried but knowi...

  Recipe for Hate by Bad Religion was released in 1993. It is yet another prophetic Bad Religion song (and album of the same name), revealing almost 30 years ago that hate is an engineered product, a product we now see every day in the United States. You can say it is just #2020goals, but these elements conspired for decades to fracture and destroy our society. Bad Religion was oft derided for taking things too seriously, but no one is laughing now. They saw what was coming and warned you, and you did nothing. Before I start, there are some interesting things about this album I will mention. Of course, the album is guitar-driven, though it was undoubtedly composed on both piano and guitar. But, believe it or not, this album has some country influences (which makes sense because country is a cousin to folk music, of which I consider hardcore directly related). Johnette Napolitano of Concrete Blonde sang on it, which is odd. You don't hear a woman's vocals on Bad Religion songs...

  Only Entertainment was included on Bad Religion's album Generator (released in 1992 but recorded in 1991) . The song takes a considerable, nasty swipe at the news media, which even left-leaning Bad Religion considered a complete farce at the time. Anytime I hear someone getting worked up about something political or whatever is big in the news right now (NFL players and the National Anthem, whatever Trump said, climate change blather, someone's emails, etc.), I'm reminded of this inscrutable fact: it is only entertainment .  While the song ends by taking a swing at the FCC, its ferocity is mainly directed at the mainstream news media. I maintain that anyone who gets their information from mainstream sources (all the alphabet soups, including PBS) is not wise. If you regard it as simple entertainment, you will do well. It is designed to draw you into the fray of left versus right, them versus us, blue versus red, etc. It is divisive. It peddles misinformation, disinform...

I admired Emma Watson for years. Please don't misunderstand. This isn't a fetish. I'm not obsessed; I just think she's incredible. Lovely, really. However, in this post, I will discuss something else that appears to be going on with her. Warning : this post is very long and contains approximately 100 photos. I spent months gathering information and hours writing it. While some may never understand what I relay in this post, others may immediately understand. I do understand because I share much with Emma Watson, strange as that may sound. We are both programmed. I realize this blog is dead, but it is my only means to share this information (perhaps Google is censoring me anyway, and if you're tired of being censored, join PocketNet, and while you're at it, upgrade your email to ProtonMail). Yet another thing I've lost. Still, I pray those who need to read it are brought here. Freedom is available! Email custerliving@gmail.com (I don't use that email for...