jane 1. do you ever feel weird about blather?

i was thinking about it the other day and how i don't even know if the people i interact with in my daily life know what blather is...and if they do, they don't know it's me, right?

and then i thought about if i died and none of the blatherskites would know, because i would simply fade away, although i would have left my mark in the blather_world

and that mark would be unretrievable by my loved ones because they would have no idea
jane 2. does anybody else think that girl_jane and i are the same person? 020823
. fuck you you whore 020903
x you fuck whore you 020903
girl_jane I don't think you and girl_jane are the same person. 020903
eddie monster i thought you were the same.
aren't you?
slugweed you can email me at leeedmonds2002@yahoo.com
if you like.
either of you
read me chelsea 020903
jane hmm..so one does and one doesn't?

i emailed you, slugweed
jane i read
and i'm wondering
you w an te d
me to read it
eddie monster i'm not sure
maybe i was expecting encouragement
don't worry about a thing
phil 1. Yes, sometimes it makes me angry

2. Of course I did
jane i loved it

is that taken as encouragement?
should i give you what you want

i'm trying not to worry
i don't even know if i am
jane phil, why does it make you angry 020907
phil becouse i pissed my bed
and shit all over myself this morning
and i had blue balls/
and blood dripping from the tip of my penis /
with clotted mats of my hair and snot and somones blood in my mouth and all over my sheets and face['
paco you got problems, ese. 020908
eddie no shit. 021013
kss I feel a lot of things about blather, bad is sometimes one of them. blather is a strange addiction, a companion, an unpredictable forum, a social circle, a tickle in my head.

Sometimes I write things only because of blather. And I *need* to write them, the articulation and reflection being an part of my sanity. Sometimes, I wonder if I could have written these things without blather, or what shape that expression might have taken if blather wasn't involved.

I think the blather_friends thing is strange, a vague knowing and liking of people who are little more than a recurring name and some text that shapes a personality. We hardly know if that personality is real, or just a costume that is worn, hung in the keyboard closet, waiting for the next trip into the twisty tangly web of pontification.

I also have wondered about the idea of disappearing; who would notice, who would care? I'll admit blather has great narcissistic appeal. I'm sure that it is not uncommon for the regulars of blather care about each other; to notice or not notice, grow to know, understand, and enjoy the 'company' we find here, and affect each other's lives.
I doubt I would come if I were the only one, if there was an audience, no interaction.

Given that the interaction is part of what compels us, it is always a mystery when someone fades away. It seems many of us take the 'having words' interaction to a personal/external level. I interact with many people here, and some have even become friends. Even then, should I just disappear, I don't know how they would find out what had happened to me. In fact, I already tend to disappear in the real world, and I can't imagine how people would find out what the cause is. This is a challenge for even my closest friends, right across town, people that I have known my whole life. If I were to die, or get carried off by a U.F.O., or just run away and vanish, it would take them weeks or longer to find out what happened. I am so tenuously connected to the world, they would have to try pretty hard to find out, and might not even suspect something was wrong for weeks or even months.

Now that I think about it, that's a little sad. I wonder how things got that way? Is my life of introversion, reclusion, and intentional distancing finally wearing thin?
minnesota_chris isn't that the case kss? Here, as in the 21st century email world, you are what you write. We don't exist based on our physical presence, only the things we write, or produce (in a worklike setting).

Makes me want to take up bowling or something, just to be seen. Boy, aren't those bowlers seen, too, in their crazy pants?

Sorry to ignore you jane, this is another one of your wonderful posts, I really enjoy reading your stuff. I think the above will serve as my answer to question one, and as far as #2, I would say, um, maybe?

I have a hard time putting anyone's identity together, except for the really wacked ones, and Mahayana, who is really out to redefine communication, or reality, or both! And she has blue hair with stars, it's kind of hard to forget that too. And the whole refugee thing, moving around the country.
girl_jane girl_jane_is_not_jane_jane_is_not_girl_jane

just spreading the word...
jane don't worry about it. i don't feel ignored, i feel flattered that you are participating. so, thank you 021013
kss I doubt we exist only as our written work. In fact, I'm sure it's mostly the opposite, which is why "existing" here in blather seems so strange. 021014
kss also, I think only one person I know (outside of you people) has and idea that blather exists. A while ago a friend of mine did mention that he knew of blather, and he posted a couple of times. We never talked about it, though. I have no idea how much of my writings he has read.

I never talk about blather, and don't try to include people in it. I do it for me, and the rest of my life does not need to get involved.

If anyone else has found it and connected me to kingsuperspecial, they have never mentioned it.
eddie monster ask something you dumb broad 021113
p2 1. i know what you mean
sometimes i wonder
how long it would take
after i stop blathering
before anyone would ask
"did p2 die?"
or if anyone would ask
at all

2. no
jane why do you give me fradulent titles? masks to hide behind that i don't want or need 021114
correction *fraudulent 021114
eddie monster is that your question jane?
i don't understand it.
masks and fraudulent titles, i'm so lost.
have you seen that hbo special "hookers on the point"?
that shits pretty funny.
my hair is made of plastic and i have no clean underwear.
jane maybe you should try to understand it before you go any further on the prowl 021114
eddie monster are you talking about the way i refer to all women as broads, bitches. 021116
jane not just broad 021117
eddie monster jane your so sweet
i want to find a hiding place
for us to have sex
jane are you really coming to ca? 021118
eddie hell yea! 021119
persephone hmmmm...interesting 021119
eddie monster i'm quite interesting, thanks. 021119
j where in ca 021120
eddie san diego 021120
eddie is that cool 021120
jane what do you mean? 021120
eddie san diego.
is it cool?
jane dont know
i've only been there once and it was years ago
eddie monster whats the coolest place to live in cal? 021123
jane probably san francisco 021123
eddie monster thats what everyone says.
but everyone knows it's the gay capital of america and i ain't got nothin against that but houstons got plenty of fags and i ain't got no problems with kickin it with em. but i'm kinda not wantin to move to a place considered to be the gay capital of the world.

go 49ers.
stork daddy hey anywhere you move will automatically become the gay capital of the world. not that there's anything wrong with that. 021124
;) you're a bigot... not that there's anything wrong with that... 021124
eddie i am a faggot.
i am a biggot.
stork daddy good...no one defends the bigots anymore. like they asked to be that way. 021125
stork daddy it's fun comparing incomparable things. 021125
jane why am i having trouble concentrating? 030505
stork daddy well that's my life right there...so i'd tell if you i could actually sit down and give it a thought. god i wish i'd been medicated as a child. instead i have to self medicate on violent video games and midget porn. the prices of being stimulus bound and having an attention deficit are great, oh the havoc it wreaks in the realms of reaching your dreams! 030506
jane hey! i concentrated all the way through that! thanks 030507
Rowbes Jane, concentration to me is something that happens to orange juice. I'm sure if any of us could concentrate, this website would not exsist. We would all be out concentrating on improving ourselves and increasing our net profit. Instead we pound keys, inventing personas and writing pretentious poetry.

And Stork, don't wish you had been medicated. I have swallowed many a perscription hoping western medicine could fix my problems, all i got were side effects. Violent vids may be just the thing for you.

was here.
jane wunderbar!
thanks you
phil Well, the reason it angers me, might be that I'm jsut plain crazy. I didn't write that other reason about the blue balls and things.
I just don't feel I can get out a clear picture, or big complete enough picture on blather. And sometimes I make mistakes.
So the general feeling, at least was, that of anger, momentarily anyways. At some of the other people too.
User24 I often think about the death thing. It's ok, though, when I have enough cash, I'll have a heartbeat/lifesigns monitor attached at all times, connected to the web, and when I die, it'll redirect all my email to someone else, and create a new blathe named "user24_is_dead". 030508
jane how much cash would that take?
could you hook me up?
phil A. $4

B. Yes, I think a thursday would work for me, sometime when it's bright enough to see your way. And the lightning bugs are out. Then we can light some candles out in the middle of nowhere and look at the stars a little while. Then I'll turn to you and smile, and touch your cheek, and kiss your lips. . . .
User24 I have no idea how much it'd cost.. not too much.. do you think I worry about my online presence too much? I'm serious about the lifesigns monitor thing. 030812
jane is anybody ultimately conquerable? 060105
ever dumbening conquerable, or controllable, or knowable? the first two, yes. the latter, maybe/no. 060105
oldephebe it all depends.

are you talking about just one on one?

are you talking about a heart set upon pouring his hopes, his highest aspirations for "being" into a gilded vase, with a hole in the bottom, he jumped up barefoot, he ran down the alley carpeted with glass towards her broken haloed light, only to find that her heart is coated with argus eyes, only to find that she never saw, never truly saw the depths with wich she compelled him to care for her, she opened her soul and screamed every tortured year into him, he felt every serrated second claw its way down the wall he'd so arduously erected around his autistic heart and the moment when she finally broke through, when all of her pain and suffering brought him to his very knees, when that hidden fire in her mind, in her grandiose theatre of pathos and pain and her long suffering romantic ambition lay gasping for each breath as the vine, its cords grew tighter and tighter around her neck and its thorns pressed into her (and then i'm thinking now in the aftermath of summarily dispatched heart that she still retains that beauty that called to me, that beguiled and bewitched me, that beauty that called, reached into 5,000 nights, as my soul sat at the sill, a flickering ghostly flame and waited, and she somehow again wordlessly redeemed me for a brief time, and just as the light savage died in her eyes, just as every human sound, every thought, every noise was fused into this hum, this concentration of sound, the one note composed of many, the one note that shattered this vase, the one note that shattered that wall of my piety
my purpose
my peace of mind
my privacy
my poise
my perfected indifference
just as that one lovely finger encroached upon my heart just as it first brushed against its flesly plane
i watched, felt it become a crimson stained relentlessly impaling shard, a frozen flame crimson blessed and baptized to bring her from the precipise and burn every tender thing she regarded in me and i in her burn it all to smoke and unwashed air then have it forgotten zephyr like--
ta dum
the end
and still yet not one word
how can one wash thier eyes from this
so quickly
so blithely
you burn a mans soul with all of your pain and anguish and torment
you touch him deeper than almost any living thing? you send a shaft of light into him with every holy look, with every holy breath--and to be favored with the radiance of one of those beatific smiles is to be bequeathed a hidden fire,
you take it,
you cherish that thing,
you hold it reverently
in your memory,
you bask in its glory
when it is unvieled,
oh i shall
from this, you say, and you look
she is completely oblivious to the carnage she has wrought upon your heart and your life
so you say
we may have felt one anothers souls
each others spirit
i mean did you feel that?
did you?
was that me?
was that him?
was that her?
was that us?
i felt it
through a closed door
i felt it
across a cavernous room
she felt it
through walls
like a glowing hammer
softly pounding the heart,
softly singing,
across distances, through car doors, across rooms,
across the thin spaces between us,
to feel someones soul mixed with your own issue out of her and bathe you like some waterfall of glory from a heavenly realm, or some hidden realm, what the hell was that?
and still not one word beyond the agonizing formality of social and moral dictates. just words, just phrases painted to cover the hidden fires that flared all around them, some mist of the soul, beyond desire and act, sinking into sorrow, sinking into joy, sinking into the night around you stitching together the frayed and forgotten seams of dreams
but then
O woman
the vase i thought housed infinite tenderness
housed infinite and remorsless oblivion
and it "shattered me like a jar"
you must not have known my soul
yea you did touch it
and i yours
in the madness and euphoria
haze of it all
as we danced like skaters on ice upon the surface of it all
not too look
too deeply beyond it
the surface
as we dared
not to press to hard,
to deeply against
we just "felt" it
and now i feel twice burned
twice scorned
as you carelessly cast your eyes over my heart and soul and over everything that we were or could have been to one another, how do you burn such a thing so quickly and completely out of you?
and why do you seem to wish with such hostile determination of purpose to burn it out of me?
was it just some wildfire moment?
say here's a sip of this aura
it's eccentric, and egoless ad incidental and he's aloof and waaaay too kind
but it's like sipping champaigne just brushing against his aura.
was that all it was?
what about the man and the soul you shattered?
i caught every note
every beautiful broken shard
every note of that anguished aria of your suffering
it took a while too sink in but
you shouted a part of your soul inside of meand maybe if you'd
put your hands into the
earth of my soul
maybe if you cared to know just a little
of the man you screamed into
maybe if you delved beneath the earth, into the soil, into the song of my being and not just - just the glitter of suface things like the heady intoxication of surface things, like champaigne bubbles and god i want to say the beauty of a more brilliant and godlike reflection, i want to be resentful and bitter, i should be but i can't - for what expectation should there be from me?
but i think
maybe if you'd just
tried to know...
um maybe if you
tried to see soemeones
suffering besides your own
maybe if you tried to SEE or know
the man beneath the tortured silences
if you heard the song that presses against my throat
the song that aches to be heard
to be felt
to have its birth and being
in the bed of someones ear
in the cathedral of someone's soul
but i cannot
not with my voice
not like i want to
and not like i can
for in my song then you will know me
in my words, then you will know me
but then what even then if
all of that
is lost
in the wake of indifference
that stream
plaited finally
into the sea of forgetfullness?
so then i will be
just air that breaths
a place in a picture
air brushed out
with only the diminishing sands of time and the whim of memory to hold its ephemeral place
forgotten too soon
and never heard
and never known.
i do not like this world
i too have been hurting
so long.
i can't remember how many times my heart has been stung by that malicious cherubs arrow.
be happy
be alive
be free
be kind to creation
stork daddy beauty fades, does ugliness? 060125
icy well, so far it hasn't, but...
oh, wait, did you mean the inside or outside kind? (beauty is in the eye of the beholder. would ugliness be as well?)
oops, this is jane_asks... and i'm not jane...
. Obviously a humble unassuming gal. She doesn't ask a lot. 060127
jane ugliness can fade, yes... in & out..

i've met people where i found my judgmental ego immediately looking them up & down... oh, maybe plain.. maybe we could do something with your eyebrows... looks like everyone else. but then i'll talk to them more, & they'll have incredible stories of past lives & science & literature, & any ugliness i saw in them fades & dissipates. it works the other way too. then again.. maybe ugliness isn't the right word for that. i'm not sure what you mean by ugliness. i immediately assumed physical ugliness, since physical beauty is that which fades. did you mean something different?
flip flop And now I know why
Things aren't as pretty
On the inside.
phil is anybody ultimately conquerable?
Yes, but not all of them by you.

Does ugliness fade?
clare where's ninga? 070217
dessiahs_song on the moon. 070228
Tip-X oh!

whys ninga on the moon ?

i went to NASA once.. got a cool badge.

no no...

yup yup yup...

she thought that was cool.

i think she's bloody cool

"i sat on it"

he he

it was supposed to be funny !
jane boo-ya! 070327
Aw-shucks huh ?

what ?

i'm kuffuffled..

can you de-kuffuffle me.

are you a MAGUS ?
jane depression: how do you help someone who doesn't want to be helped? 070603
REAListic optimIST you trick them into accepting it. Invite them out for something that you know they can't pass up, and then ninja-ly spring it on them!

I had to be all super proactive to get my roommate to do anything about his problem of leaving a giant mess all over every surface of the living room: clothes, crap, even diapers (wtf?!... nevermind, i don't want to know)

I just told him I was going to "help him" get his shit together two weeks ago, and that I was setting aside the day to do it, then confirmed it a week before.

He stood me up that day, which angered me, but rather than go off on him, I went out and had fun that night. he slept on the couch for most of today, so I just had a reasonable discussion with him, explaining how frustrated I was, and he was half apologetic, and half making excuses.

I had to leave for firejam (in fact I'm leaving as soon as I finish typing this) and told him I had 90 minutes to help him before I left. He finally acquiesced, and we got it mostly cleaned up.

I spearheaded the effort, did most of the work, and directed the whole event, but it finally got done.

I tell you this story to illustrate that you might have to do most of the work of getting that person out of their daily rut and into a pattern more conducive to coming out of their emotion coma, but that it can be done.

Hope this helps!
unhinged the pessimist in me says you can't help.

the realist in me says that for people with serious problems, a near_death_experience and/or some counseling are the only things that could help.

the optimist in me says give them plenty of hugs. even if they don't want to be touched.
jane ah yes, the optimist.
when i try to hug, i get a "don't fucking touch me!"
unhinged hug them anyway. even though they might not know it, that's what they need more than anything. a real hug though, not some lame patting. 070604
jane i only give hugs if they are real hugs 070604
REAListic optimIST it sounds like my story isn't real helpful, jane. unfortunately, when a person walls themselves off to that far of an extent in an effort to protect themselves, ironically they also sever their lifelines.

perhaps random acts of kindness and nudging might get under the wall if properly placed?
unhinged not that i thought you were a lame hugger jane ;-)

it's just i hated that more than anything when i was depressed. when people wanted to hug me when i didn't want anybody to touch me and i let them and it ends up being some lame patting on the back not some bone cracking squeeze where the other person physically holds you up for a minute or two. frank spoiled me with hugs like that when i was sad back in my youngstown days. and hugs really are the best cure. it was like he squeezed my despair right out of me. he wouldn't let go until i relaxed in his arms. damn man, i miss that dude's hugs.
jane funny, i posted this about e. and now i am considering everything for my roommate.
poor girl committed grand_theft of a firearm because she was so desperate. we had to go through her things, found the 45, found a noose in the basement. i am afraid of coming home to a dead body.
her wrists are a scar_garden.

we have acknowledged on many occasions that there is a problem, that is to say, we are not ignoring it.

still, at what point do you call someone and have them pick her up?
jane and nicole, if i could give you one of my hugs, i would.

{have you seen the free_hugs video? its quite amazing.}
LS You can call any pschyciatric ward and they will come and take her for observation for 24 hours. IF she just sits there, though, they likely won't hold her. Plus, you need a really good reason(s) for calling them out. Also, if your not family they might ignore the call completely. 070605
REAListic optimIST if you are able to contact her family, it might make it easier to make a case for your roommate to be detained, however, there is not much they can do beyond that observation unless the family gets involved in order to have her committed to get treatment.

once you are dealing with guns and nooses, you have to really make a serious case with family involvement if you want any outside intervention. In Oregon, it needs to be evident that she is in danger of dying within the next 24 hours. I'm not sure what the requirements are for your state.
jane we contacted her family. we are working on it. 070606
what's it to you?
who go