So I figured out the dream symbolism of the Damsel in Distress.

It's my self esteem for one, and it's connected to my desires/wants for the future.
She is always pining, hopelessly, singing this sad song and hoping somehow the Unrequited love will notice unworthy little her. The Unrequited Love is that which she wants most, but cannot bring herself to express herself to, and also feels the need to hide her feelings about. The Unrequited Love is something that she perceives is forever above her. She sees only limitations, and therefore cannot stretch her powers beyond them. Who is she to have it?

She is often so despondent that she talks herself out of even wanting to pursue the Unrequited. She wants it to find her, but even though it may be within sight, it never seems to notice her, and won't interact unless she can get its attention.

The worst part is, the Unrequited keeps showing up, and is in fact haunting her. So even if she wants to just say fuck it and go on to something or somewhere else, the Unrequited is still lurking purposefully. As soon as she tries to avoid it, it pops up. If she tries to pursue it, she feels threatened by the competition. (limitations)

So, she's forever stuck in this stupid pining phase, unless she can get up off her ass, go up to the Unrequited and say her peace.
The big fear is, that she will finally get the courage to do so once and for all, and that she will be ridiculed/rejected and have nothing left.

I'm stuck on the Rotor, that carnival ride where you stand against the walls and it spins you around until the floor drops out from underneath you. The pressure forces you against the wall, but you still slowly slip down even so. And if you look up, everything is a blur and will make you either dizzy, or sick (or both).
So I just keep looking at what's directly in front of me, because I don't know how long this ride is going to last, or how far I'm going to slip down.

I would say that I'm jaded, but for one to be jaded, one must first have some hope to be jaded from. I'm a little past that.

The comfort is either missing or imperceptible to me half the time. At the moment, since hope is conspicuously absent, I've abandoned that search. Not that finding comfort is much better. Comfort is fickle, and fleeting, and often transparent if found at all.

I can't seem to rewire the instrument panel so that it functions the way it should. As soon as one connection is made, another shorts out. I'm tired of tinkering with tools to try and fix something that apparently wants to stay broken. Can't see well enough to fix it anyhow.

So, comfort is the goal. A shallow goal, but at least a goal.
If safety is absent outside the shell, then the best place to go is in where the sticks aren't poking the sensitive parts.

My current and enduring funk can be described in several literary and movie related metaphors.

It's apparent that my life direction compass is Jack Sparrow's, and the needle just keeps rotating.

As described in Season of Mists (Sandman), Destiny's garden is being described, and how the paths flow and diverge, and there is mention of seeing only darkness ahead in front of you.
Again, that is where I'm at.

In the Matrix trilogy, there is discussion between Neo and the Oracle about choices, and the understanding of those choices. One cannot see past a choice they cannot understand.

I'm also here.

More than anything, I'm stuck in purgatory, inertia, limbo. Winter is still here and I'm trapped in ice. Driving on an inescapable winter highway which is so iced over in spots that the car does nothing but donuts when moved forward.

This isn't even so much about the current situation, but the situation is a part of it.

It's about having too many choices, but none worth choosing. No goals, no dreams that are enough to lure passion to follow them.

Some things that I thought might have been goals or things that were "supposed" to happen(according to pre-programmed societal patterns) are not viable, not even things that I had necessarily chosen for myself, and at present are not on the radar as I thought they might have been.

It seems that life is merely a pattern of keeping myself occupied in a waiting room, when I don't even know why I'm there or what I'm waiting for (besides waiting for something worth waiting for)

It is not to say that there is not fear involved, certainly there is. But ferreting it out has proved difficult.
Hopeless and sometimes despair are far more frequent company than I'd like to admit.

The question of what I "want" always comes into play. I haven't been able to successfully answer that for well over a decade. The question was asked of me when I first got out of college. I got tearful and was unable to answer it then.

The answer is still, I don't know.
And I fear that if I did, it would lead me to another dead end.
So there's my fear of choices.

Perhaps I fear what I want as well. Not that I really know what that is.
Sometimes I think I know, and several times I've said "i'm going to do this, or that" and then start doing it only for the speed to fizzle out quickly when I realize it's not really what I wanted.

I've had dreams about getting in vehicles and driving them, only for them to start slowing down and then disappearing entirely, leaving me on foot again.

My dream self is often this "damsel in distress" personality, pining for some unrequited love that never notices her, and she is unable to approach because she fears rejection and ridicule.
I've grown to hate this personality.

Why can't she just get off her ass and say "Fuck this stupid asshole, I don't need him" and go running off somewhere interesting instead of waiting for him to notice her?

When dreams turn crappy, and I'm lucid, I can change them, or wake up. In waking "reality", I'm playing a game of mahjong solitare with no more moves.

I realize I need to choose a new game, but the idea of playing at all seems boring. I'm tired of playing by myself. And why the hell am I playing anyway when I could be exploring?

Objects at rest tend to stay at rest.

While I am typically a motivated person, it is not so in this case. I'm in a desert with nothing for miles around, and chasing after mirages isn't going to get me any closer to water. So, here I am, wilting in the sun, staring at the same cow skull. waiting for the vultures to show up.

I should be following the stars, I guess, but I don't know how to read them. and they keep changing position anyway.

Come see the Skynet Side of Sears.

As if job hunting isn't enough of a chore, now it's fucking creepy.

Biological Algorithm Architect

So, what does one think when one sees this title (besides the obvious stream of curse words about fields that have nothing to do with architecture co-opting a title that they have no right to)?

Bio...wha?

...Job Description- Are you an expert in advanced biologically-based, software algorithm development?
(uhh...sure?)
Here at Sears advanced technologies we are creating advanced software systems using these techniques, and need experienced architects (NURGHHNNGNNNGHEADEXPLODY)with Masters or PhD level algorithm skills. We need the experts who can write books on this subject.

Blah blah bla...Sears? Wait, huh?

Education/Skills/Experience Requirements We are looking for a Biological Algorithms Architect with the following skills:

-Experience (expert-level) with the development of biologically inspired software algorithms

(twitch)

-Experience or in-depth knowledge with genetic algorithms, artificial neural networks, and evolutionary algorithms.

I repeat, artificial neural networks. And evolutionary algorithms. (getting fidgety)

-Knowledge of fuzzy logic, particle swarm optimization, and ant colony optimization.

(hiding under couch, looking for John Connor's phone number)

-Minimum of Master's Degree, PhD preferred.

-Experience with artificial intelligence and learning systems.

(Haley Joel Osment suddenly enters room. Panic ensues)

-Necessary to have experience with classifiers.

-Experience optimizing algorithms for high-performance/scalability environments with massive databases.

(I have too much fear in my brain to grasp that sentence. where is my gun.)

-Hands-on experience with Java or .NET programming desired.

-Desire to make sentient machines that steal your clothes and are programmed to exterminate the human race.

- Excellent communication skills

-Experience working in fast-paced, collaborative, team-oriented environments
(translated: ability to run fast enough from the fucking machines to get to the rest of your platoon so you can shoot the motherfuckers)

-Passion for the utilization of new thinking and technologies to solve innovative business requirements.

(what the hell kind of innovative business requirements that Sears has necessitate AI? Talking washing machines?!! Self aware refrigerators?!)

. Ability to adapt to new development processes and changing business requirements


I applied the cortical electrodes but was unable to get a neural response.
.....Where's my time travel device?!!

SEARS? no really. SEARS?!!!!
Everywhere, thousands of blenders and toaster ovens are laying in wait, plotting, devising....I no longer feel safe in my kitchen.

I'm not here to talk about hate.
No.
Hate has no place here.

It's time to talk about LOVE.

I love so many things right now.

Where should I start? I'm so bursting with love.

How about the psychological waiting game/experiment with the economy?
Can I hug all those people who have been sitting on their hands doing nothing?
Or can I send a big wet sloppy tongue kiss to the smiley heads who decide to lay off people merely out of fear?

I want to send them a nice big valentine.

Oh, and how about the love I have for all those nice stupid opinionated asshats that I complain about all the time? I just want to share my soul with them. A nice firey ass hunk of burning love.

Jesus loves you.
But I love you MORE.

Oh! And one of my favorites objects of affection--- winter. Complete with fluffy white color changing to black and chunky snow that never fucking melts for weeks on end even after it gets up to 60 and rains GOD I LOVE IT SO MUCH I'm GOING to CRY!!!

(sob)

And I LOVE staying inside in a hermetically sealed apartment, breathing the same stale air over and over. Ah. Smells like last week.

You know what else I love about winter? Why the PLAGUE of Course!!!

Whose heart doesn't melt at the thought of being dizzy and filling garbage bags full of snot for days on end while playing fever temp bingo with friends and having dreams that would be too disturbing for a late night movie plot?

GOD I'M SO LUCKY!!!

I LOVE ALL OF THIS! SO BURSTING WITH LOVE!!!

And naturally, I love tea. endless gallons of it. and tissues.
BIG HUGS ALL AROUND MY FRIENDS!!!

Let's all sing a nice song, shall we?

I love all of you
you fucking bastards
I want to hug you until
your heads explode
DIE DIE DIE
Fuck everything
but lovingly
and sweetly
you complete me.

Fuck you with pretty pink hearts
and bows
I hope you choke
have a cup of mucous
I made it just for you
with love

Will you be my valentine
and impale yourself
on the closest kitchen implement you can find
so I don't have to get mine dirty?
I LOVE YOU!!!
LOVE LOVE LOVE
HUGS HUGS HUGS
DIE FUCKERS
LOVE.

Yay.

Happiness to all.

Expert Integration Architect seeking employment

I have been a dominant force in the field, having 5+ years of experience in solutioning the various
challenges that I have encountered during my career. My planful tactics and strategies have been underscored by my efforts
at managing a "green" cultural environment- which in my opinion enhances the manufacturing of the end product. My role
has been to integrate the raw data into the prexisting system, so that the data is more easily digested and actualized into
a solidified result. My forceful ability to initiate productization has earned me a reputation as a giant in back-sourcing, and
my track record shows that my efforts have exponentially increased the total quality of my yield. I am very familiar with the
workings of a back-end database, and due to my flexible approach, I go the extra mile to re-integrate unrealized end products back into
the system to retool the fruit of my labors, as it were. As you can see, my portfolio is robust and I have also been quite generous
with my liquid assets as well.
I assure you that were you to utilize my skill set for your company's benefit, that you would find me a very customer-focused envisioneer,
ready to architecturize cohesive commodities for general consumption.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,
Connor

It's not good, I've gone to poetry.


Bribes and lies and senseless guile,
They all do cultivate this bile
That bubbles upward all the while
And naught can heal the ache.
Here Hope lies raped and stricken blind
As Fear’s seduction drugs the mind
So rapt, that words of any kind
Turn truth that one will take.
Our machinations ruin us
Our thoughts corrode and bleed out pus.
We are our damage, and so thus
Infection spreads unchecked.
Push the stone, and it returns.
Entrap the devil, still he burns.
Yet not a soul among us learns
The dark that we reflect.
So doom upon our table spreads
And gluttonous we fill our heads
With sugared tripe and moldy breads
That poison all the more.
The pointed scowls and gritty screams
Against the enemy who seems
To throttle all our precious dreams
Become our favorite whore.
Our entrails eaten every night
Re-form again at morning light
And growing weary of this fight,
The acid burns our eyes.
A suffocating part we play,
In roles from which we long to stray
Yet suffering commands us, stay
Eliciting more cries.
Would I that I could dispossess
And extricate this vile distress
That it would no longer transgress
The sacred soil of soul.
The duelists spar but never fall,
Still circling deadly in their thrall
And still no verdict comes to all
Of ever being whole.

P.S. Schroedinger's Cat is in Pandora's box.