LoserNet Index Previous Next
City of Dreams
Silence, Little Lamb!

Sunday November 1, 1998

Perhaps it's the Wort taking its revenge out on me. It's hard to say. All I know is that I've been talking like a fool for the last few days. Then, too, it may be my version of catharsis. After all, I have been known to exhibit some form of anxiety on an occassion or two. I have officially begun my eleventh month of chronic unemployment with no relief in sight. And, in about a month, I'll be celebrating my 4th anniversary of my sobriety. As we have seen in the past, this is when the sinister force/kahuna toys excessively with the oversized cranium. I sure hope that the Wort is still on sale at GNC because I may need to buy a dozen bottles. I will need to increase my dosage tenfold. If only I had told myself, "Silence, Little Lamb!" My City of Dreams has turned into a Ghetto Nightmare and I'm one of the derelicts hangin' out in da hood.

Alas, I am just but a foolish, lost soul. I took my six-four out for a ride last night. I toured Waikiki and stopped in at Kahala Mall. My poor six-four has been running poorly again. I suspect that the vacuum leak is back which means that the manifold bolts have probably worked themselves loose again. I don't know why I am keeping my six-four around. I guess I am under the misguided perception that I'll actually have some dough to refurbish it. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! I can't even afford to pay rent. That's why I'm living in moms' house. Sheesh! Things are pretty screwed up around here. I wish I could wave my hands around and make things right. However, I'm just a foolboy in the army of life.

Monday November 2
Lori and I had another misunderstanding again as we were walking to the gym. My futile attempts to quell her anxiety about her job situation only caused more problems. We managed to mummify the situation before it got out of hand. Later, Lori told me that there was a message on her machine from her workplace. She was officially laid off from work. The spineless weasel waited until about 8pm to let her know. No matter what, I felt like a real schmuck. I have offered to help Lori out with part of her rent. I'll also pay our gym membership fees. She is reluctant to accept any help. I am willing to do that without any obligation. I will not wrestle control of her household from her. It really is sad that it takes a crisis for us to realize that all we have is each other. If we want to do battle, we can find worthy opponents anywhere. We are supposed to be friends. Partners.

These times of despair also serve as a lesson to me. I have let my resentment build up to the point of sheer stupidity. What really gets to me is that Lori and I repeat the same mistakes over and over again. We have been here before, just a few months ago. When are we both going to recognize this vanity?

Po' Boy
Tuesday November 3
When the going gets tough, the tough get going. Only the losers think about buying a new modem. That's my profound thought for the day. Lori and I met downtown after she cleaned out her desk at her former workplace. We took the bus home. Then, we walked to Kuapa Kai to do some shopping. I bought three pairs of slippers. The rain started up while we were walking home. I was a wee bit preoccupied with what moms had said earlier. I told moms that I may have to help Lori with her rent. "How can you help her when you can't even help yourself?" she asked. I could have reached for the Wort and downed the whole bottle at that point. Every doubt that I ever had once again resurfaced. It could have easily been another time of reckoning. Why does this happen? I know that the sinister kahuna is going to actively toy with the oversized cranium in the next few weeks. The issue of my sobriety is in question.

Lori thinks that she will do well with her new opportunity. She believes that she can make enough dough in little time. She's probably right from what I can tell. She may be able to work only a few hours a week. As for the ol' lavahead, nothing much is panning out. The more I think about, the more I know that moms is right. I am not going to amount to much. What else can I do? I don't even qualify as a minimum wage slave. Sheesh!

Redundant Slime
Sunday November 8

My virtual homey Richard (RickBoNuts@aol.com) sent this thought: "Insanity is doing the same thing and expecting different results." Well, I'm the guy that wrote the book on insanity! Sheesh! I have received some feedback about the options I proposed insofar as the journal is concerned. I strongly agree with the principle that I should not completely revise the journal archives for the mere fact that it compromises my integrity as a writer. I will review all of what has been written so far. I plan to remove any references to anyone not directly associated with the ol' lavahead. I also plan to remove all non-essential photos. That should appease everyone.

So, what will happen after this? I want to start up a new journal called Old Man Noises and Other Strange Tales. Stupid, isn't it? The only problem is that I won't have much to write about. As you can tell now, I have little to write about since I have been severely limited content-wise. However, I think that I've said all that can be said about my life. I followed a strange path that led me on a journey which ended up here in Hawai'i. Everything disintegrated into a cesspool of redundant slime. I went to hell and back. Yet, my tribulations continue. None of it really matters in the grand scheme of things. The events have obscured the thoughts. The mind itself has gone to mush. Redundant slime. None of us need that anymore, do we?

Perpetual Loser
Monday November 9
It was very difficult for me to take the scalpel to the journal. Although I did not change much, I felt a little ill after I finished with the minor revisions. I removed all the names of people not directly associated with the ol' lavahead and I also removed a few photos. I should have just deleted the whole LoserNet site. In the end, I think I'll get over it. I'd like to spend the rest of the month in better spirits over the final disposition of the journal. I received a lot of interesting comments concerning this situation. Nonetheless, I think the time has come to end this journal as we know it. We will embark on a different journey, although many unanswered questions will remain. Does it really matter? Perhaps some questions are best left unanswered.

I had an interview on Friday for a teaching position with a small business college. I remain optimistic that I can become an adjunct faulty member there. Little by little, I want to build my credibility and career. After I pay my dues for a few years, then maybe I can amount to something more than a perpetual loser. Modesty is the best policy. I'm not going to chase the big money. We already know the outcome of greed and cockiness. All I want to do is to live comfortably and enjoy my life.

Monk Solaces
Tuesday November 10
It's a little strange when I look back at the last few months. So many thing have happened. Most of it was not very pleasant. I was engaged for a while, but that has changed. The ring is still in my software box. Marriage is something I no longer need to discuss. It may happen. Then again, it may not. I know that it was a long time ago, but I enjoyed my days as a monk at the Brothers of the Immaculate Roach. Actually, I was the only monk there, as I recall. There is no heartache in solitude. No hurt feelings. My life may never return to that point of tranquility. That's not including irritating neighbors, by the way. However, that is neither here or there.

I guess I can never forsake my pathetic journal. I already feel a sense of bereavement coming on. I have no idea what the new journal will be like. All I know is that I want to avoid the mundane. What will be hard is refraining from discussing certain aspects of my life. For all I know, that may be short-lived anyway. Look at what happened to the competitor. Alas, what am I worried about? There is never a poverty of nonsense to discuss.

Thursday November 12
Some days seem to go better than others. I have days in which nothing seems to go right. Then there are days that everything runs so smoothly that I feel I am dreaming. Of course, nothing is really that smooth for a true loser. I should just clarify that point by saying that nothing tragic happens on those days. I received a call from the Dean at the business college on Tuesday. I called back today. It looks as though I may be teaching there starting at the beginning of next month. This will be good because I would have had a five-week vacation, as it were, since the university will be between semesters. I am still very far from making a living. I will just have two part-time jobs instead of one. However, I am extremely thankful for this opportunity. For three weeks in December, I may make the equivalent of a regular wage slave yet only work about 24 actual hours. That's not really true. I spend quite a bit of time preparing my course material. I don't have to, but I do because it keeps me busy. Otherwise I may sit in the detestable resin chair and lose my mind. Finally, thanks to all who have written including DwM (w45@dacor.net).
Sinister Day
Friday November 13
I have been skipping several days in the journal. You really wouldn't want to know what's been going on and I cannot discuss that aspect of my life anymore. Nonetheless, I sense that the end of yet another chapter in my life is coming soon. I guess that there's a point of no return in every situation. How does one make it through these troubling times unscathed? The key is to try to make it out without any emotional scars. Emotional scars are really just unpleasant memories. We can either purge them or dwell on them until it makes us sick. The grudges we carry in life become the luggage I always refer to. Why people enjoy carrying around this luggage is beyond me. The sinister force thrives on that luggage. It feeds on it. That is why it is so overpowering. It becomes just a matter of time before fond memories are all but forgotten. A cynical and angry core develops which is usually masked by a façade of pleasantness. The venom eventually makes its way out. The sinister force also has many allies to facilitate this process. So-called friends will feign assistance only to end up expediting the oozing of the venom. It doesn't have to happen this way, but it usually does. Where do you go? You can run but you can't hide. The only thing you can do is pray. Lord, have mercy on me.
Real Journey
Saturday November 14
 The point of no return has finally come. All I can say is that it was cleverly orchestrated. There is not much I can do about what is happening. However, I have been prepared for this moment. It was bound to happen sooner or later. That gives me more incentive to close this chapter of the journal. It was almost 14 years ago to this day that I had a similar situation going on. That eventually led to my ten-year drinking binge. No matter what happens, I'll never go back to Club Cobra. I cancelled my membership permanently. Life goes on. Don't you wish that life was more like a journal? Just close the chapter and wipe the slate clean. Great, isn't it? In actuality, almost everyone is capable of doing this. Imagine ... no luggage. People who are highly successful can do this. Water off of a duck's back. The main thing is to avoid bitterness. That's the venom I was talking about yesterday. A while back I said that I wanted to end the journal on a happy note. Make it so, number one. Okay, I know I'm not Jean-Luc Picard. However, sometimes one has to just look forward and say, "Engage!"

As I approach my 4th anniversary of my sobriety and my 40-something years on this planet, I've come to learn that I'm not missing much of anything. Life is pretty much the same no matter where I am. I once thought that I had to try to experience as much as I could and be where I needed to be. It turned out to be the greatest vanity. It was just an elusive dream. So much of life is spiritual. However, we have tried to displace that spirituality with tangible experiences. Seeking the ultimate experience is disappointing because the need for excitement is insatiable. No matter what we do, we can never fill the void. The spiritual nature of human existence cannot be captured in a single glimpse. Yet, it is elusive if we are distracted. Stay the course, my friends. Bid those who wish to depart a fond farewell. Then, take the real journey.

Right is Wrong
Sunday November 15
My new life as a monk seems somewhat more lonesome than my previous tenure. This will be a difficult time of adjustment. Yet, this is the life I was meant to lead. Companionship is difficult to find. I assume that is why people seek out relationships. Friendships can seem so transient. I am also beginning to learn that, if one is in a relationship that ends hostilely, there is little hope to salvage the friendship component. I suppose that there really is nothing to hold onto anyway, except heartache and sorrow. Evenings and weekends will be the hardest times to endure. I wanted to make a trip to Cali in December but that will not be possible if I am teaching at two campuses. My earliest retreat will be during Spring Break. I had previously discussed another island getaway in December but that will no longer happen.

Moms had discontinued long-distance service on her phone a few months ago. So, I cannot make any calls to the mainland. I have to find my long-distance calling card and reactivate it. The time has come for me to get in touch with old friends. I also have to see whether I can coordinate my trip back to Cali. I am sure that life has changed for most of the old cast members. Speaking of phones, I will be discontinuing my cell phone service at the end of the month. My prepaid term is almost over. I no longer need such a foolish device.

Wrong is Right
Monday November 16
Lori agreed to join me for dinner last night. At Assaggio's, we enjoyed a fine Italian meal. For lack of a better term, the event was a celebration of our separation. Well, hey! People have divorce parties, right? We have decided to declare a truce. We have ended the relationship. However, we have embarked on a new journey as friends. And, we now have only one way to communicate ... talk to each other. No more guessing games. Only time will tell where we will end up. Perhaps we will eventually move on to truly separate lives. For now, it doesn't matter. She told me to return the engagement ring.

I talked to Tom back in Convalescent City. He has had a rough year and he faces unemployment at the beginning of the new year. Tom said that he ran into Steph only once in the last year. Strange things. I will continue to try to contact more of the old gang. Then, I'll make preparations for my visit to Cali, whenever that will be. Sheesh!

Woe is Me
Tuesday November 17
I met with the Dean at the business college this afternoon. It looks as though I will begin teaching there next month. For now, I have been given two classes. The wages are not on a par with the university but I am just grateful for this new opportunity. I am still very far off from making any kind of living. At least I'm not sitting in the detestable resin chair. It a good thing that I know how to live within my means. Basically, my means are the equivalent of that of a pauper. For example, it will be along time before I can purchase a new computer. So, for the time being, I will have to put up with this pathetic Fujitsu computer that misses almost every other character as I type. However, pathetic is me! Woe is me!

My life has become somewhat empty since the breakup. I just try to stay busy, mostly with nonsense. The idle moments are excrutiating. I can barely sit down and relax for any longer than two minutes. The anxiety is a killer. I suppose that it will subside in time. I just have to get used to the fact that I have no place to go anymore. Maybe I can return to being a true computer nerd.

Close the Book
Thursday November 19
I am looking forward to closing this chapter, or should I say, the whole journal. It's time to start anew. The majority of the content of the journal pertained to an aspect of my life that no longer exists. In order to really start anew, one must wipe the slate clean. I can't predict whether my situation is final. Who is to say? The only aspect of my life that remains intact is my sobriety. That has been the ultimate test. I have finally accomplished something important in my life for once. Sheesh!
Friday November 20
I invited Lori and her daughter out for pizza tonight. This was a celebration of my new position with the business college. I wasn't exactly enthused about the evening. I realized that I have a pathetic life if the only person I can celebrate anything with is someone who despises me. After dinner, we tried to drive to Kahala Mall in time to catch a movie. That was not meant to be. I'm just glad that the pizza was delicious.
Putz Defined
Saturday November 21
Caroll called me on my beloved cell phone. She had made her way to Waikiki and found a reasonable hotel. I have to hand it to Caroll. She is very resourceful. I took the bus to Waikiki and met up with her. We spent the evening catching up on old times. However, that is neither here or there. Instead, I think I should quote some e-mail from a very thought-provoking former reader Tim (tim.putz@MCI.com). He wrote:
"I've been reading this since I found it while perusing Useless Web sites. It's terrible, yet I can't turn away. I think the sheer magnitude of its boringness has ruptured the very fabric of the space-time continuum, thus pulling me in against my will like a black hole from which no interesting subjects can escape. The Hawaii months (years?) have been compellingly mind numbing.

"So as I terminate my readership, I will leave you with these parting observations. Believe me, I'm not trying to be mean or insensitive. Even though I have read (suffered) through the journal, I probably still don't know what's really going on. Sometimes an opinion from the outside may be valuable. Maybe, maybe not - you decide.

"Next, kill the journal. It is infinitely more valuable to you dead that alive. In fact, the best course would be to kill it before the convenient end of month/year or whatever. Do it now. Move on. Dismantle the LoserNet web site completely. You can still put up another site, just kill this one. As an aside I think I recall you mentioning that you referred to the LoserNet site on your resume. If I was a perspective employer, I would run screaming from you as a job candidate after checking out the site. The use of technology was fine, but your personal life is waaaaay scary. Your time would be better served returning to computer geekdom that mindless repetition of journal entries. I work in the computer industry and let me tell you, you are many times over the superior techno-geek to me. Pursue that. You seemed at times very happy with this line.

"Finally, most importantly and I'm sure most difficult, abandon your relationship for Lori. You two together is a recipe for absolute disaster. It was a huge mistake for her to move to Hawaii. She has plenty of problems of her own, not the least of which is her relationship with her daughter. Your relationship with her daughter is not that of a perspective stepfather - at least not a good one. You seem barely interested in her and in fact, annoyed by her. That's OK. Not everyone is cut out for parenting, but make no mistake, if you and Lori were to get married (shudder) you would be a parent and it would be a mess. Continue to be friends with Lori if you must, but forget marriage. There is no way it would work, and the results would be more painful that the pain of separation now.

"Again, I'm not trying to be cruel, but I say sh-tcan that entire relationship man. As an outsider looking in, it's obvious that it is going nowhere. I know it's easier said than done, but I just gotta say it. Lori should be shagging her ass back to Portland for the good of herself and her child. Of course, it really is none of my business - you know what they say about opinions ...

"So anyhow, good luck. I really do hope things go well for you whatever you decide. I'm removing the ol' LoserNet bookmark now. I feel better already - how about you?"

Hey, I feel better already! I don't need the Wort anymore. I'm cured! I'm cured! Tim has cured me! Baha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa! Arrggh! Can I get a witness? Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! Come on, Tim ... take your right hand and move it up and down! Move it up and down! Sing along everyone! Take your right and move it up and down! Oh brother.
Sunday November 22
The importance of friendship can never be overstated. Caroll and I have had a special friendship for a long time. It's the kind of friendship that crosses gender boundaries. We seem to be able to sense when the other is troubled. Not even 2,500 miles of Pacific Ocean can serve as a hindrance to this clairvoyance. Once again, both of us are going through stressful times. We are able to guide each other through our own experiences and observations. We seem to have a spiritual link as well. Caroll always helps me to see things objectively. Her insight fills a void in my own psyche. My methodical nature possibly fills a void in her psyche. Therefore, we are able to synergistically solve each others problems. Well, they may not be the ultimate solutions but they seem much more plausable than anything we would have come up with by ourselves.

The weather has not improved. So, we have not been able to do much sightseeing. Instead, we have spent most of our time in discussions over coffee, just like the old days. I will be sad to see Caroll leave. She is an important person in my dwindling support network. No doubt, we will see each other again when the need occurs.

Tuesday November 24
Caroll decided to cut her vacation short by two days. I met her at the airport this afternoon. By the time I got there, Caroll had already obtained her boarding passes. So, I could not persuade her to stay longer. We meandered around the airport while engaging in our usual quasi-psychological discussions. I felt sad that she was leaving and I also felt a tinge of anxiety. However, once I bid her farewell at the gate, I felt an odd sensation of total calm. I think that Caroll's visit was a godsend. She helped me unclutter the clutter that was my life. She also provided moral support when I decided to make a crucial decision to initiate closure with my previous life. Now, there is no turning back. I have eliminated the ties with my recent past. Only software remains in the software box.
Other Side
Wednesday November 25
I need to clarifiy that my goal is not to present myself as some kind of victim or that my own behavior has been close to angelic. During my own stressful moments, I presented a significant challenge to Lori. My tirades were not much better. I, too, have tried many times to end the relationship over basically nothing. My desire to end things was just a function of my temperament at that moment in time. I'm not going to point the finger at anyone, including myself, and claim that the responsibility lies solely with that individual. I just want to clarify that I am not devoid of responsibility.

Caroll called this morning to say that she made it back to Cali just fine. I was not able to talk with for very long because I had a bus to catch. I will probably call her tomorrow. I managed to tell Caroll that I saw Lori on the bus yesterday when I was coming back from the airport. Lori was amicable to a point. Then, she started in about the alleged deception and lying. I just told her to forget about it already. I have no idea why she is getting her dandruff up about this when we are just barely friends. Sheesh! Let's end the day on a happy note. Thanks to Damien (damienlongo@yahoo.com) and Tiina (tiina@uiah.fi). Wow, Tiina is reading LoserNet in Helsinki Finland!

Thanksgiving Day 1998
There are many reasons for me to be thankful this year. I have gone through some tough times but I survived unscathed. I have been blessed with modest provisions, enough for me to survive. Today, I'd also like to thank all of my virtual homeys who have followed this pathetic tale over the months and years. You have been kind and compassionate to a fool you have never met. I also am thankful for my close friends like Caroll. In the final days of the journal, I can look back and see that some good did indeed come out of this nonsense. Caroll urged me to look back at my relationship with Lori and think of all the positive aspects and the good times. She is right. I don't want bitterness to overcome me. I will spend my time honoring the Creator and giving thanks for what I have.

As this journal comes to an end, it also signifies a new beginning. I know that sounds corny. For the most part, the journal is the story of my relationship with Lori. So, it must end just as the relationship has. The journal, itself, will continue in a new form to signifiy a new beginning. I guess it all has to do with closure. I have a new plan, an optimistic plan. Were it not for Caroll's empathy, I would have never come up with a plan. Instead, I would be an emotional mess and reciting my lamentations at the Wailing Wall. The plan may not come to fruition but it will be the dream to keep me going. If you observe Thanksgiving Day, please have a safe and happy holiday.

Friday November 27
My sister-in-law and nephew came over for lunch. Conspicuously absent was my bro. I helped moms cook the turkey in the kamado. Alas, it looks as though my family is about as dysfunctional as was my relationship with Lori. My bro has some unresolved issues with either moms or myself. Life is just too short to be harboring a grudge for so long. I don't know whether any of this nonsense will spill over into the new journal. Who am I kidding? Changing the name of the journal doesn't change much else. The power of change lies with the individual. I would still be wallowing in misery had I not opted for change.

Relationships and friendships may come and go. The only constant in our personal universe is the soul we have been given for the duration of our mortality. All of our souls connect through our everyday interactions, but we can neither take from or give to those other life forces. It's all a matter of entropy. Therefore, rediscovery can only be accomplished individually. No other soul can accommodate the process. Soul ballet. I can choose to bereave over my failed relationships and lost connections. Or, I can move forward knowing that nothing has been gained or lost. The only thing that has changed is that I have gained a little more wisdom.

Saturday November 28
Perhaps I have more foolishness within me than I thought. Lori and I went for a hike to the Makapu'u Lighthouse this afternoon. We seem to be getting along as friends finally. However, I still have the foolish notion that we may get back together. Lori remains adamant about our separation. She does not want us to be anything more than friends. At least she is a little more realistic in assessing our former relationship. I was not quite the monster that she had made me out to be just a few days ago. I have really no idea why she went through so much drama and theatrics to end the relationship. It was as if she had to persuade herself that I was demonic in order to justify the termination. Sometimes I think that I should have remained a monk. However, when one finally leaves the refuge of the monastery, it is hard to return. In retrospect, I realize that I was weak. I gave in to the ways of the flesh and compromised my spirit.

I suppose that I'll eventually return to my former state of singularity. Lori has agreed that we should mutually invoke closure and help each other to put this matter to rest. It still hurts nonetheless. It still feels like a part of me is missing. Yet, it's only a perception. My soul is still intact. It has just forgotten how to dance.

My Day
Ol' Lavahead Day 1998
Today is the ol' lavahead's big day. He is another year older and incrementally wiser. Of greater importance is that this day is now symbolic of my sobriety. The sinister kahuna toyed with the oversized cranium as it always does during this time of year. The tests seem to get harder every year. When Caroll was here, I mentioned that I may find the occassion to celebrate my sobriety with a glass of wine. I told her that I knew I could stop after one glass. She asked me what that would prove. I didn't have an answer. Perhaps I was just looking for a reason to fall. If I challenge the sinister kahuna, I know that I will not win.

As always, I checked the classified for job listings. Pathetic, as usual. Sometimes I wish that I was a wage slave making a decent salary. Then, I have to ask myself why. I have always survived on mere pennies. My perceived need to make a so-called living was to pay off my loans and fulfill my role as the man in my now defunct relationship with Lori. What good did that do? Caroll urged me to pursue my writing again. I don't think that she has ever read anything I've written except for few pieces of e-mail. She may be right, but I have no idea what to write about. All I can do is ramble on in a journal format. So far, no one has offered me a million-dollar advance for this collection of garbage. As I am on my own once again, I do have the time to do what I want. I can survive on the poverty-level wages that I make. I won't have to live by someone else's expectations.

These are the final two days of the journal in the series called The Life and Times of a 41-Year-Old Virgin. As the one-and-only Keeper of Lost Lives, the ol' lavahead will continue his ramblings in a new journal. Upon closer scrutiny, one would be hard-pressed to find much different from the current journal. Same cheesy graphics. Same layout. Even the Lavahead Express will remain the same. Why the hoopla then? The journal has always been surprisingly coincident with my life. I once thought that I designed my life around the journal. That's not the case. The journal is my life. It's the extension of my soul. Several readers commented that things could have been different if Lori could read the journal. After all, it was through this journal that we met. I doubt that she has much interest in the journal anymore, which is another reason that it must end. Lori's interests have matured. She wants to move forward.

I have never read any other Web journal except the competitor's journal. Lori hated that journal. I somehow connected with it. It was not an inspiration for this journal by any means. However, I came to better understand why people read journals. Voyeurism is not the issue. It's a matter of connectivity. I once thought that diaries, especially public ones like my own, were sophmoric. Why would anyone read this kind of crap? Yet, it turns out that most readers are very loyal and compassionate people. In essence, the reader forms a bond with the writer which, in turn, develops into a kind of relationship (read: friendship). Readers who decide to move on are just people discovering incompatibilities in the virtual relationship. Actually, I don't know what I would do if I did not have the journal. It gives me a small sense of purpose in a purposeless world. All that to say, "Thank you!" to all the people who have been my virtual homeys, especially to those who have offered words of kindness during these trying times. Also, thanks to William (chindaw@yahoo.com) for writing in.

Monday November 30
Lori invited the ol' lavahead over for dinner last night. She made one his favorite dishes ... Lasagna. It was a memorable moment because it was more like our happier days together. Lori has offered the olive branch of peace. I have accepted it without question. What made us do the things we did? Even as I look back in the journal, I see the folly of my own thinking, what with the misconceptions and the resentment. It all worked against us. Lori described to me how I used to be. I didn't even recognize the person she was referring to. I have changed, and I changed for the worse. Why? The answer lies right here in the journal. I just never took the time to discover it. I guess that's human nature. That's why history repeats itself so often. My perception of the situation probably drastically differs from Lori's perception. Therein lies the key. Lori has gone through changes, too. However, I am the one with the tools to monitor what is going on. The system failed. I have proofread the journal so many times but I guess I forgot to read what I wrote.

What will happen from this point in time? Who can even guess? For now, I am just grateful to be here in the present. I will forever be grateful to all of you who have followed the ol' lavahead on this journey. In a way, the happy ending that I wanted did come about. As Ulla (Ulla.Riihela@fi.net) wrote, "A revelation is not an end, it's a beginning ..." For those passengers disembarking, please let me thank you and bid you a fond "Aloha" from all of us at LoserNet. For those passengers continuing on to further destinations, please remain seated. It's going to be a rough ride, but we'll eventually make it to where we're going. Hele on, braddah!

Old Man Noises
The Saga Continues
The Life and Times of a 41-Year-Old Virgin has finally come to a close, although life as we know it will continue on. It is a cathartic moment. The Keeper of Lost Lives will be writing on a clean slate, as it were, in the next series of misadventures, Old Man Noises and Other Strange Tales.
The Keeper of Lost Lives: City of Dreams

© Copyright 1998 by The Keeper of Lost Lives
LoserNettm Love It, or Lose It.