I never had this sense before but listening to recordings made with my new technique feels kind of eerie. My delivery is different, maybe because I am talking into the cell phone and not as much into thin air. The quality of the voice is somewhat different, I guess on account of using the phone’s microphone and not the 3D mics. But it sounds good. Very testamentary.

I got into a dialogue-with-self about meaningful relationships, and when is it okay to reminisce about the ones you’ve loved. The question arose as to whether love for someone ever really dies even when you’re not with them anymore. It’s a hypothetical, or rather rhetorical question, and I do not even attempt get to the bottom of it all since I don’t think there is a single pat answer.

Certain exes have said they will always love me, even after they are married now and had moved on with life. I think such feelings are probably pretty common. One woman said that to me just a few years ago, that she would always love me, after she had decided to marry her husband. That’s an ex I now think of as something like a kid sister, but her comments nevertheless made me sad.

It’s a sentiment that some people do not accept or allow, which is understandable, but I can allow it. I feel no animus toward any but one of my exes, and even she has been reassessed in my mind over the last couple of years as our distance becomes greater not in physical space but in time. I mean whose life is so long that they can spend it poisoning themselves with hatred toward others, especially when, as I believe, these feelings are manufactured?

I just looked her up. She’s still out there, living the life of a minor celebrity. She used to say she wanted to be taken more seriously as a journalist or documentary film maker, but she seems stuck in a puff piece factory. I forgot how gorgeous she is. Funny, though, every other time I’ve looked her up I find that comments from site readers, when they are allowed, almost always dump on her for being an incredibly annoying twat. Maybe those were just tabloid sites, I don’t remember now, but I know she never took such comments lightly. Comments I find about her today are all positive about her beauty, if nothing else.

I’ve never been comfortable calling a woman “beautiful” or “radiant” or anything that would traditionally be considered complimentary. I think it all the time but fear keeps me from saying it not only to women I barely know to the women I’ve dated for years. I fear the woman will be offended, or belt me. However the few times I remember saying such things resulted in no violent reaction. It stems from my broader fear of women in general, and of the whole goddam world. But then I’ve never liked being called good looking or handsome partly because I don’t think it should matter, but also because I don’t think I am good looking or handsome. But I know some women (and men) who do. A woman friend of mine who owns the bar down the street from here once told me that I looked “particularly handsome” one night. It was strange to feel manly like that. That just does not happen to me very often.

I’ve been doing a lot of shower talks. I put the field recorder safely in the cabinet and the older cheapo 3D mics over the bathtub faucet. I arrive at some good ideas that way, but a lot of it is boring and listening back to it can be tedious as hell as I wait for those good ideas to come around. Still, it’s become a fine way to make time spent in the shower actually productive, though I wonder if others would think it creepy or a little weird if they heard it themselves. I mean I’m talking through running water and scrubbing myself in certain spots, not that you’d be able to tell the latter.

OK, enough of this rambles, I’m going to EAT.