Documentum Vivum et ad Aeternum
April 16, 2026
All day could I listen to Paul on the first part of You Never Give Me Your Money
And for all the time I spend I somehow spend more on wishing it was longer
It’s the ending that challenges a beginnings worth
Or brings regrets
Or makes you think about the nature of time itself like: were there no beginning and it just was then there wouldn’t be an end
But then I couldn’t enjoy the beginning part
And these are the thoughts that don’t keep me up, but they pass and maybe that’s not such a modern thing
(I’ve been trying to be more lighthearted
The song ended
A new one: Mary Et Jeff by Cortex came on
Real good so far, evocative intro
Evocative intro that I’ll never hear for the first time again
Gone as fast as a first kiss
But that one doesn’t really end, does it?
These things have been thought about before, thousands of years ago. They had to be. Hold on to yourself, man
Anyways, I’ve been trying to be more lighthearted
I heard something about frequencies or hertz or something and that putting your feet on the bare Earth is good for you
Maybe that’s true
Like when I used to run barefoot outside
Trying to jump over bushes during tag only to not make it and somersault over them
New scratches and all
But you know what, it did feel good
Then one day I got a massive splinter in my big toe
And my mom was no surgeon or pain doctor
So after that I never ran outside barefoot again
It’s funny, I got the splinter on a deck
I don’t know, something is missing
It feels like either something’s missing or I’m not thinking about it on some ignorance is bliss stuff
And then when I try to think about it I just get depressed
Or maybe I know what’s missing and I can’t do shit about it
But then again I know beginnings have ends
(There’s SAD for the Spring too
And I’ve tried therapy but it feels like I know that all of the thoughts are interconnected in some way
And that their manifestations are too
So I have the thoughts there, but not the language to synthesize it all and if I did it wouldn’t be digestible
I’m the living My Experience
And how can that be summed up? And how can I actually talk about it?
But I’m glad it’s feeling like Spring
And that makes me uneasy about working the nightshift
And it makes me want to lay in grass and never let go
One thing I’ve learned is that I am not good with letting freedom or independence go
But I don’t know why
I serve myself most of all
I trust others
And love others
But I have a deep rooted feeling that this is my world and I can’t limit myself from it because of others
I’d guess that comes from parenting
I mean, I had a selfish mom
A not-so-there dad
And sometimes I think I’m only not worse because of my grandparents and step dad
So now I reach goals and bide my time and enjoy the chaos when it comes, and deal with the order when it’s there
It should be the other way around, shouldn’t it? The more I get by the thicker this mask becomes
What am I like truly me?
Am I even me?
I’d be so curious to meet him
The television has been in sleep mode for hours and I just noticed
And when I drink I drink too much
When I sleep, I sleep too little
It’s 6:04 in the morning at this moment and people are starting to wake up
The birds have been going since like 4AM
I don’t know why they’re so persistent
Now a black-capped chickadee joined in
Ugh
All too often I miss past days and wonder if I’m past the peak of it
Like having experienced the worst pain of your life and nothing will live up to it
I need chaos and self-destruction and I’m actively looking for them.
April 17, 2026
When I made my first entry into it, it was titled Journal Entry
And it sat on its own in the White and the Known
As if inspired by flagellation I have had it sprung upon me from the wellspring of the Mysterium to convert this into a living document
(some may call it a journal)
I have titled it Documentum vivum et ad aeternum, which translates to living document and for all time
Take from it what you will
It is clear to me that few written languages meet Latin in its power and beauty
And its departure is a great void so the word is
Insatiable like a demigod.
I have been trying to care for myself more adequately
And the mundane is boring
But there are flashes of love and warmth in the allowances of comfort which I have not felt for quite some time
I am glad for it
And were my body not to fight itself
(maybe from the mind or the spirit then downward to the flesh
Then I may be in total bliss
Far be it from me to address my particular condition but to leave crumbs throughout writing
I think the inflammation hits the brain as well.
That being said, I am much steadier on my feet today than the last
Some may call it lability
I’d call it being of a liquid constitution
And the moon will stir no matter what man says
I am glad for that too
And as gravity churns the landscape and creates mountains, vessels for rivers, trenches
It was at one point the stirring that leant itself to my craft
Something speaking through me - daemon? muse?
Some warlockian deal with a patron?
I do not know
And I think it was my not knowing that was the conduit
And comparison is thief of creativity
In reflection I’d noticed various modes
And eras
Differences in themes, styles, those sorts of things
Behold - The Matte Gray Muck Era
I fear not
All that is present is food for the future’s reflection
And so a great barrier is dismissed — the writing of a day’s events
How grossly mundane that would be
And I was always more for ideas that don’t go anywhere
And the hope for another world
I need comfort and to go back to mySelf and I am actively looking for them.
0549, signing out. Goodnight —
April 19, 2026
I will keep this quick
It is almost 9am and I need to sleep
I must exist
Definitions
Nascent (adjective): coming or having recently come into existence
Bacchanal (noun): a wild, noisy, and often drunken celebration or party, typically characterized by unrestrained revelry and hedonism.
[that’s not official, it refers to Bacchus, the Roman god of wine, fertility, and revelry]
Words are the kaleidoscope of spirit and learning is gnosis
Yet I find myself strangely unable to text back and forgetful maybe as extension
(hunger comes, too late)
So it is with cosmic elegance that the last two nights
The deep nights or fetal mornings
Were fog and mist ridden
I must exist
Inexorable (adjective): not to be persuaded, moved, or stopped.
Out. 0904.
April 20, 2026
On returning from my 4AM break
I walk back toward the hospital from my car and through the night which holds a chill of a winter that will not go easy into the veil
Early on I move through a tunnel which has a stable ceiling
And the ground, concrete, slopes upward to guide the walker slowly toward the building
The upward movement and stable ceiling in the latter third aspect consumes the space in some perpetual drama and I could almost touch its firmament with a good jump
I’m back out of the belly into the air with a minute or two before passing the doors into the university which connects to the hospital
I have always enjoyed being up when most are asleep
A rogue warrior dealing with silence on my own terms and the world left only for me and a few select Others
(The scent of an old cologne kept in my center console sticks to my nose
Or is it stuck to my memory?
It gets harder to believe it's been more than a year and how much can happen and how many emotions can bounce in a mere three-month period)
My feet lead me through the university
One of the Others, a woman of about 24 or so
Descends the escalator
We make eye contact, once, then twice
And both keep walking
The building becomes hollow again, and I think that she probably wonders the ghosts too
Eventually I am on to the elevator, up 8 floors with haste, and then onto the bridge
I cross it, that tube of sorts
Separated on the left and right by the longest pieces of glass I've seen
And in no small part to the lack of sun, I can see patient's rooms glowing
Some with nurses at work
Others with the stillness of illness and machine
Before passing a custodial worker cleaning that tunnel
We exchange good mornings and give my kindest face,
For we’re only allotted so much magic but with infinite use
I key in, and I’m back
0500
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I woke around 5PM. Early enough to enjoy the light on the land but too late to do anything with it
So I move myself around
Eat
Have some coffee
And bounce between decent ideas, never quite landing on one
Time ticking adds pressure and the future pursues while I walk in circles in a thornbush of indecision
I wished to go to the DW Sanctuary on the northern coast of Nissequogue and walk in the slight, unconscious sounds of nature down to the water of the Long Island sound
In many ways it has taken Caumsett’s place as a reprieve, recharge, and or escape
Both have seen me in some of my most trying times
Tomorrow is another day
1906 | 7:06PM
April 21, 2026
What makes the past so difficult to escape is its necessity
Throughout the day I was hit by old things
Old dust
Discord, something I haven’t used in years
I go on and see old friends I didn’t keep in touch with
Last message… 4/11/2020
The things that have gone on it at time…
Those I would change and those I would relive
Somehow I know that it is more than either, it was the new dawn of true adulthood and the party of youth’s end
I will probably never hear from them again
So little things to keep me distracted
Beyond and also with all of that
I am a creature of great idealism, romanticism, and nostalgia
None have served me well outside of niches
Like writing but
Even in that I often fall short of delivering an idea.. or feeling.. without overexplaining it
So there are things I have to work on
And “for what?” we all ask
I think about it
I guess it’s either selfish or for some limited eternity
They are often hand-in-hand
I received the first copies of my book today
My face on the back cover was… not well thought for someone so private and wary of vulnerability but
I hold it in my hands and read through and do not know how to feel
Years of experience and work
And 80 percent of it cut
And I have an old me
An insect shell after molting
Laying bare and I’m so away from myself that I’m hesitant to look into my own soul
At the same time I am proud of my accomplishment and the making of something from nothing thanks to very good friends I’ve met from miles away
It is blank
Ahead
And I’m
Still
Mo
lt
in
g
(and I’m still playful somewhere it there)
How fast six years go by
I want ways back with new beginnings and I’m actively looking for them
Wolf out. 0552. Be well.
April 22, 2026
Sometimes I still wait my allotment in the next life
But I’ve gotten better at not wasting away
Better at forcing myself to have more than just coffee when I sit alone on mornings
Better at turning more lights on and moving more
Sometimes there is nothing worth moving, eating, seeing, waking for
Maybe that’s why the Puritans worked so hard
It distracted
And or they came to the same realization that boredom is the root of all evil
Is that why children are without sin?
What a small game we play
I did get to the DW Sanctuary today. Get this — it was closed on arrival. 5PM. It would make more sense if it closed at dusk
So I
Drove a minute down the same road to a beach and sat to a good view and music
Jenny’s book has been energizing to read
I fell into its world easily
Comfortably
somehow, and a new friend sits beside me
I mean to reach out and share my thoughts on it
I’ll have to send my own her way soon
A very mundane reflection today. That is okay. I feel mundane.
Bad decisions make their case and I listen.
Good decisions too. Sometimes I
don’t always know why I act
0703
April 24, 2026
Day 2 of 3 completed
(Mobile entry, edit later)
Young manic woman kept my ear throughout the night
Tapping on the glass with her nails every 15 minutes or so
Sweet girl, whispers mostly. Tells me she's the “Daughter of God” and that most people are demons but I am a shepherd
They will come for me and I need to make sure I'm protected
And urged me to be off of the unit during the witching hour
The intensity of her look struck a chord of my own madness and I almost believed her when she told me I'm saved and that the time is coming soon
Damn near followed her into the dark like her eyes but her tried telepathy was not breaking through
I'm quite tired, and my brain needs rest. Out
0944
May 1, 2026
You fly close, close
Closer to the sun
And next to vision
Darkness waits
All mama cares about it money
Makes you wanna
Sleep in all day all night all day
All papa cares about is
Well I don't know if he cares at all so I
Keep to myself all day all night all day
Not a lick of the passing time off of you love
Doodling whatever
Carving stones in chests and I could teach how to burn a Water Lillies
So much for burgundy sunsets
Sun rises just twice.. once a day (I can't know)
And I give my best send off to friends maybe made soon
But probably not goodnight
May 6, 2026
Fresh off of In the Mood for Love
The sun creeps up more and more and I wager a balancing on a sword's edge
Only the real can't be faked
And only the paralipses tell the truth
What a beautiful word paralipsis
And here I am cutting my foot by mentioning it
The eyes don't lie
And they're so far away
I'd put a decent hedge on sailing the mountains
I'd portfolio the chaos
Were the world not so small
0744