Beloved Image Of A Soul Unknown

I could picture you rising from the ocean, standing upon that shell, the birth of Venus, indeed. A brief visit to the mortal realm and gone again. Shining down from heaven, the very vision of an angel, I see you there. The Brightest Of The Constellation, how does this light not catch every eye? The one to outshine them all, helpless to look, helpless to love, a blinding afterimage, a brilliant ghost lost to time, Yet, still you shine. I'm late on the scene, but not too late to see you there. And seeing is so much more than believing. To see is to know, to know is to love, knowing a love for a light long gone. But if it means anything, I still see you there. The way Elton John feels about Marilyn Monroe and Princess Diana, The way L.A. Guns feels about Jayne Mansfield, so do I feel about Willy Rey (Wilhelmina Rietveld). She would be my mother's age had she not fallen to tragedy. She was born the same year as my mother and died a month before I was born. As far as for photographs, she is by far, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. No exaggeration. Beyond the obvious, It would be very difficult not to get lost in those eyes. And her life was no less tragic. I think she deserves a song, too. It's only a picture, I know. But I wonder about the story behind the picture and the mind behind that angelic face. What was she like? What were her dreams? Maybe this is a weird thing to think about, but hey, I've got plenty of time, so why not? None of these modern-day TikTok queens could ever hold a candle to her. If I were a beauty contest judge, I would crown her Ms Universal Spacetime, for nobody in all eternity comes anywhere close. Or at least I have not seen them. As far as for physical beauty, she wins. Though I wish I knew more. I would have loved to have known the person and the soul within, but I was born way too late. I don't believe for a minute that her death was on purpose. With anxiety it is not so easy to quiet the nerves. And there's just no sleeping when it gets bad enough. One pill here to calm the nerves and ease the mind, just enough to be able to sleep. But, it took more and more, and one tragic day, enough was too much. That's what I think happened. Now, I don't know for sure. I could be wrong, for I sadly never knew her soul. But, still.. It's a dangerous game just to have a little peace. Either way, it was a tragedy. So young. So achingly beautiful. What a waste of a beautiful soul. It's a big bad world full of sad stories, but this one somehow hits me personally. Though I can't understand why. I know, I know. Such is the way of the force. It's just so sad for someone so young and beautiful. I also have a feeling she would have lived to be a beautiful old lady. Let's see, she would be turning 77 this year, same as my mother. I sure wish I could have kept my parents a little while longer. Circle of life, I know, but I still need them, still wish they were here. The real loves of our lives are the ones who loved us from the beginning. That's a lesson I wish I knew sooner. I miss them. Okay, before I get upset, back to the earlier subject. Wilhelmina Rietveld is no doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in pictures. She outshines them all. A close runner up would be Linda Ronstadt back in the day. I suppose it is a matter of personal taste. Interestingly enough, that it is women from that era that really shine for me. Also, that I have never gone crazy over blondes. For me, it's often redheads and brunettes. On "Threes Company", I preferred Janet to Crissy. I suppose everyone is different. There's how it stands with pictures of those I could never hope to meet. As far as for real life and in person, it does get a lot more complicated. My feelings often put their figurative thumb on the scale. If I try to be objective in subjectivity, my middle sister's best friend would take that crown, hands down. She was adorable in high school, and she's downright beautiful now. Thank you, Mario, but your princess is in another castle. Damn, you Mario!!! Go for it, Bowser! But... When I bring my irrational feelings into this, it's a certain angel I refer to, now and again. Though the logical fact is that when you love someone, it makes them even more beautiful in your eyes. I guess it's the only area of debate where bias makes perfect sense. Of course there are real memories involving real people I love, still photographs of the mind, certain memories never leave. I wish for only the happy ones to stay. Special moments can never be planned, at least not in complete detail. Sunsets and soft light just happen sometimes. Maybe a face, if you're lucky, an expression, a softness one never forgets. One can't just plan. One must build and one must hope. The best moments are when you know they're happening before your eyes. The toughest moments are only realizing after their long gone. It is good to know they were real, that they happened at all. Such is the way of the force. The social media vortex glitched and damn near locked me out, robo gas lighting me as to wonder which password is right. But what if it did lock me out? Would that be such a bad thing? It's true it's the only link I have left to the accounts of Marsha, my parents, and several dear friends who have passed on. But, I have screen grabbed a lot of that, and it's not like they're going to be posting anything new. Unless it's a damn hacker or something, which is not something I'd like to see anyway. Should any aspects of my dear ones be held captive by these sinister corporations? Or should it be in my hands instead? I think I can answer that question. The social media vortex is, as a certain Star Wars Admiral from under da sea would say, a trap. And the vortex long ago ceased making me feel connected to anyone. Quite the contrary in recent years. It makes me feel invisible as always. What's worse is they seem to promote general ugliness more and more. I am more than sick of seeing people hating on each other, hurting one another. Friends, I would love to see some love out there, even if not specifically for me. I am tired of the cruelty, the ugliness, and the way it's promoted on social media just to keep us engaged. Remember how before all this, that was a good word? Okay... Better subject, please. Clean cup move down. Between the yards, the garden, numerous, and various "Round 2 it's," I had an extremely productive weekend, I mean, I got a lot of things done. I rocked. I rolled. I really should feel good about myself. (As it is, I only feel 'okay') But, okay is good enough for me. I hope to keep my rocking and rolling going into the workweek. May we all rock. Though this morning has been just a bit shitty, literally speaking. You know, everybody in the land of Oz has to go see the wizard sometimes. There is just no getting around it. But what the hell is going on today? Did everybody in this place have a big Ex-Lax platter breakfast or something? It should be added to the Emerald City Bill of Rights that everybody has a right to wash their hands or see the wizard without two nasty asses shitting in the same room! I fled one such room, walked across the building to another, and guess what? Literally the same shit going on in there, too! Geesh! This weak stomach quite literally ain't up for this shit. Gah!!! The weatherman on channel 7 says that we're in for a heavy tropical downpour later this week. Which is good because I hope it cools us down a bit. Sleeping, even under a fan on full blast, has been a bitch and a half. It has been hotter than three flips and a flark, and I've been miserable. The AC is broken and it's going to be a while before I can afford the repairs. So, come on, tropical rain. I am ready Freddy for ya, baby. My garden is, too. I just hope the roads stay intact. But I guess that's another problem. [A day or so later] It's awful gloomy outside, but it's cool and comfortable for once. That's a worthy tradeoff if you ask me. Actually, these rainy summer days are perfect sleeping weather. If only I had the time. To fade into that television snow sounds like bliss to me. When your work interferes with your hobbies, that's a bummer, dude. These days, sleep is the new party, and I want to party all the time. Do I really have to be a functional cog in the wheels of civilized society? Do I really have to? Really? The Egyptian taskmasters had nothing on the almighty dollar. I've been building pyramids all my adult life. Just not for myself, sadly. I don't even have the time to fall asleep and dream one up. I said where's the freaking bourbon! Wrong dream, Fred. Okay, new subject, clean cup move down! The recent demise of the last couple old world web hosting sites has given me enough pause to go over my favorite old websites and make sure I've got them preserved as well as I can. The old internet is sadly dead. It has been dying for a while now. Mainly what I have tried to hold onto are the pages for my favorite old games, 90s FPS, and those cute / fun visual novels that people put out there for free. Each site was a work of art and it's very sad to see them lost. Marsha had a page (Dedicated to Guiding Light's Buzz And Jenna) on Angelfire that I am glad to see the Internet Archive has saved. I, myself, saved it many years ago, and again in '22 just to be sure. The internet of old was more than just a few large corporate sites to bounce between. People who were passionate enough to build their own web pages, never went with bland and boring. When they loved a game, a show, or a movie, they wanted the world to know about it. The old internet was an experience and an adventure, and it's so sad how short a season it was, and how only a lucky few, myself included, will ever know. There once was a cool Beetlejuice site, called the "Website For The Recently Deceased". What a cool name! Though, these days the site itself is long deceased, just as the wonderful person who gave me the link so long ago. It sure didn't last 600 years. Though, who knows? Maybe on my M-Disks it will. Plus it's on the internet archive. Though, since I saved some files roughly 19 years ago, my backup is more complete. Though I guess it's no big deal so long as the spirit of the site is saved. I can't think of a more deserving spirit than The Ghost With The Most. There is a YouTube video with PJ Harvey singing an acoustic version of "Down By The Water." To me she looks just like Lydia Deetz in that video. The only one who looks more like Lydia is Winona Ryder herself. Maybe it's that Goth motif? Hey, Lidz! Whatcha singing about, babes? I guess that is one of the hardest lessons of life, is that all things wonderful, all things beautiful, be they websites, people, places, things, wonderful hearts, or beautiful souls.... They're only here for a season. When they're gone, they're gone. And I wish I could have saved those beautiful people as I saved those pages, on disks that will almost certainly outlive me. But I can only save their pictures, their writings, and their voices. But a voice can never be the same as a presence, and a picture can never be as having them by your side, to laugh with, to cry with, to embrace, to love and be loved. That, my dear friends, Romans, robots, and strangers, was lost long ago. There is no way I can soften, downplay, or sugarcoat this harsh fact of reality. It's a dirty secret that is really no secret at all, except in my admitting that I keep trying so hard to forget. That's the ugly monster barred behind the closet door. It's a hideous fact of life. And that's why I always clean cup move down. Michael Myers time is once again in effect.... One long hour and fifteen minutes to go, and it's going oh so slow. Fresh out of wanna, but a lotta gotta. Hocus pocus focus focus. Or so spoke us. Not enough ooja. Too much mobooja. You gotta do what you've gotta do. Get ta woik! Damn it, Scotty! Beam me home! I know, I know, you cannaduit. Levitate me to the house, Yoda could, but always with you, it can not be done! Hmmm? I guess the best way not to lose one's faith in humanity is to stay the hell out of comment sections. Article: "A young lady's life was lost." Random jerk: "And?" How about "And, you are a jackass!" People being jerkwads just to be jerkwads. If you don't care, then it takes zero effort to shut the hell up. Maybe the best answer is silence. They're just saying these things for a reaction. Don't engage. Don't feed the trolls, yadda yadda Yoda. Hmmmmph! Karma, this shithead deserves! So, I said nothing. Still, I think of my sister. That young lady could well have been somebody's sister. She was definitely somebody's daughter. She certainly had people who loved her. And if somebody had dared to say "And?" in my presence, they might have needed to borrow that computer Stephen Hawking had for further communications. Talking thereafter just might be difficult. Just sayin'. I'll tell you what, though. Nothing enlivens the workday quite like a tornado warning. But, why the hell did it have to happen right at quitting time? Well, at least it didn't tear anything up. I need my job. I need my house, too. Looks like that tropical rain is here, ladies and gentlemen. Okay... Let me sum it up and break it down, Agnew. Haroooo! Five Ways that I am weird: (1) I have pizza for lunch every day at work and I eat the topping with a fork before I eat the bread. (2) As I said earlier, on "Three's Company", I prefer Janet to Crissy. Joyce DeWitt was one beautiful woman, no matter how the show tried to downplay it. Also, Janet was intelligent, witty, and had her own charm. (3) I can't sit through a whole movie or TV show. Even my favorites. Not anymore. If patience is the Jedi way, then just call me Darth Cosmicus Wieus, Dark Lord Of The Sith. (4) I am a computer wizard so long as said computer was made before the turn of the century. (5) To me, sleep is the new party, and I love to party all the time. And now, for the bonus round. Even though I am using one to type these very words, I am not a fan of smartphones. I don't care for the apps or the games. Except for Notepad, which I'm using right now. What I dislike in the stongest way is just how every company, every government, and every bank expects absolutely everyone to have a smartphone up their ass to be lowjacked to. I mean if I lose this damn thing or it gets stolen, I am screwed. Even though I have never put anything involving my money on this thing. Hell no! I do all my finances and bill paying on a Linux machine that I know how to lock down. Aside from having to deposit a paper paycheck every week, I miss the days of paper forms, when there was no such thing as applying online. The internet used to be for fun stuff only. Now it sucks enough to spill over into real life. Though I have to say, Amazon takes the driving and the crowds out of shopping. I'm going to try and order a certain magazine from February of 1971, if they have it. It's a shame she was not on the cover. With that angelic face looking back at you from the cover, I bet it would have sold twice as many copies. I just wish I existed back then to buy it brand new. One issue only. I really don't care for the rest. Only Wilhelmina. Aside from that, I get my computer stuff from there, along with several household items that are less costly even with shipping. If I knew they would fit properly, I would order my clothes there, too. I may have to anyway. When the only alternative is Wally World, I will find another way. Just like Mr Spock. Even if I seem illogical. Why? Because I despise Wally World. I hate that place with a passion for which words could never do justice. I have no love for Crazy Chairman Mao's Super Mega Factory Outlet, aka Wally World. I'd sooner shop in Hell. It would probably be a more pleasant experience. Though leaving would be almost as difficult as navigating out of Wally World's crazy parking lot full of crazy ass people. Ugh, Crazy Humonz, gah! I must be Ferengi, Klingon, Or Romulan. Long live the Star Empire! Down with the Federation! I'll shop for my Romulan noodles elsewhere, Captain Picard! Clean cup? Move down? Set a course for the neutral zone? I skipped my usual morning caffeine because my heart thought it was in a race. Now that the afternoon is here, I had to drink a soda to settle my stomach. I guess the alien inside was going through withdrawal and needed a fix. Well, it's a Another stormy day. Another round of Michael Myers time. I guess I can live with that. Just spare me the tornado warning this time. That's not the kind of excitement I was hoping for. Really, there is only one kind that's acceptable. Not to spell it out, babes, 'cause I'm not exactly the Ghost With The Most, but it sure feels like it's been about 600 years. Ugh! Otherwise, no excitement please. And not at quitting time again either. Getting me out of some work is one thing. Making me late going home is another. Tropical storms of the round table, allow me to introduce Arthur. Though I think Merlin would have been a more awesome name for a storm. You know, friends, there is a vast difference between dreams and delusions. Now, there are indeed times when it's nice to entertain the delusion, but it is imperative to be able to differentiate the delusion from the dream. Because reality can be pretty damn harsh when you are forced to return to it. Quite the shocker for sure. It's the difference between parachutes and rocket powered roller skates. Especially when you have an ACME heart. Wile E can take it. The rest of us can not. Dreams have steps, goals, and possibilities. That's the difference.