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Showing posts with label personal care. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal care. Show all posts

Monday, May 29

Today, I have a friend.

 For people who see me around town, being that it’s the civic center metropolitan district, I’d suppose that I’m a sore sight, on various counts, for some people. On one hand, for example, I feel like I’m fairly pro-sociable, and that I’m good for “friend status,” and, although it plays out, in truth, in some sort of informal and disjunct fashion, I feel like, even though I’m present, in a cognizant sense - meaning, I could reliably answer questions accurately, in nearly all situations (which, I’d say, is one of the hallmarks of my reputation, nowadays, amongst people who know me), I have some chronic pain and inflammation issues that never seem to go away, being that I’m legitimately fully homeless, and, since town is fairly upscale, in many of the small locales which characterize the areas I frequent - this is Los Angeles, on one hand, and we’d been brought up, in this generation, to have fancy ideals and aspirations to live up to. 

Nowadays, I wonder how the rest of America views this fumbling facade - it’s become a stark contrast - this notion of poverty and the battle for inclusion, in to the American Dream, whereas so many people are mired in judgmental paradigms and sociability-defeatist attitudes of better aspirations (perhaps), whereas I constantly see groups of peers and colleagues, amongst us (youths), of this generation, berating each other, at the slightest notions of escapism, in to some sort of virtuous or fanciful deed, or gesture - essentially crippling the work day, work week, workplace morale, and, in doing so, it undermines so many foundational and essential functions of coworkers, affected demographics, and governmental institutions. My personal, fanciful belief, that I flout, sometimes, is one where I assert that people’s common belief of that we are constantly struggling against budgetary concerns (crises, that it were), is actually shortsighted, and, a more insightful perspective on things is that people would endear to fund us - from whatever means available (yet, only “somewhat,” on that last notion); yet, at the most distributed workforce entity-meets-consumer, as far as social services, public and mental health services, and other relevant institutions, I feel that a limited pool of selectivity in hiring, and extraneous influences upon workplace attitudes has become pervasive and characteristic of unaccountable organizations, where casual unprofessionalism is considered due process, and trite judgmental attitudes and quips, which characterized the abuses that we’d known, and, largely, as young society, back in our early school days, committed against each other. In recent memory, it seems that, over the course of new, and forthcoming presidential administrations, we “repeat” some of the hard-won, progressive policies, which had taken decades, at these points in time, various that they are - yet, it seems that they have to be repeated, for the sake of folks who’d been distracted, or who seclude themselves, as hermits, of some fearful respite over growing up, and facing adulthood, and it’s constituent features, vulnerabilities, responsibilities, accountability, and so forth. 

On one hand, this is an age where science and technology dominates life. I feel that, to deny the preeminence of this facet of society and global commerce, would someday work itself out, for individuals, to inevitably be torn asunder from this sort of privilege that we enjoy, whatever that might be. 

As for myself, I experience several, perhaps, disadvantages, as far as being homeless. I make accommodations for myself, in various forms, yet, all in all, I’m perhaps not all that much different from my “housed” (surreptitious, being that it’s within my memory, and I’d duly “housed” myself, rightly so, as an independent business owner, in previous years) self - on one hand, sure - maybe I was “playing house,” in some cases, yet, in some other cases, I fully supported myself, all on my own. Over time, I learned valuable lessons, over losses, and I take those things in stride, and I expect little, these days, that I’m not already offered, or taught, “had been” taught, already, or, on one hand, I’d been distracted from thinking, perhaps, due to this ongoing exhaustion, which I’d mentioned, earlier. 

Anyways, getting back to my vision, of the rest of America - essentially, “hoping” for a beautiful generation of us, coming from out of this California Dream, so to speak, and, rightfully, as well, I’m sure that they expect it. We read half-hearted news, out here, nowadays. We get untimely late updates about rainy weather, lately, that I experience, for example, and, for me, that’s one thing that really affects me, at least, for a day, but I do a lot of reading, and I encounter, just tangentially, subjects such as weather engineering, which irks me, when the weather is, year over year, uncharacteristic, and seemingly, cruel, at that, and arbitrary. I feel that a proud and foolish man (or woman) would claim superiority over nature, whereas natural sciences are, on one hand, significantly vast, and numerous, in nature; and, as well, for the sake of the fact that a self-made attitude, in part, plays in to this sort of narcissism, and, on another topic at issue, sometimes, people gather together, in the various forms that we gather, nowadays, or are influenced, collectively, perhaps - we may be apt to have been led by suggestion, at a point in time in which we were prone to seek peers, and support, for ourselves, which is natural, and standard, in psychology, whereas cruelty sometimes simply seems, or feels like it’s appropriate, when our emotions and patience are tried. The best of the self-made pool of successful people, as far as articles have reported for us - would (surreptitiously) have a second-hand, non-arbitrary “serving” of their foes’ consequences, for defiance - it’s part of corporate governance structures, I’d come to discern, in far fetched lessons that I glean intelligence and insight from, which seem to rightfully characterize the man or woman whose face seems to be duly their own, and with recognition to boot, for having become the rare public figure who had flouted a poor reputation, notably so, of some sort, which regularly peppers our news feeds, of a Scientology sort of twinge to a story of life 😏. It’s tough, but we all like to laugh, on one hand. 

Wait. While I arrived at this thought, I’d like to dote on a recollection of its significance - of the fact that we all like to laugh, raucous and foul-natured that the humor may be, and despite expectations at maturity and composure, yet, writers have to have a job, and “everyone’s got to matter,” (perhaps, here, inappropriately, that I’d put this last assertion in quotes), and humor is one way to soften the insults that more well-composed, patient, and reserved folks might otherwise duly characterize these sorts of qualms, of occurrences, that get served to us, on our intellectual meal plates. 

Some sort of similar notion got flouted my way, for observation, and for ire, for example, when I’d checked on a selfie porn video that I got talked in to filming, and I looked fwacked and bwammo’d, most surely, facially, which - on one hand, I’d refrained, initially, from posting it, yet, I got talked in to reconsidering it, and, even though - fwacked and bwammo’d, in appearance, to be sure, I relented, and I went ahead and posted the video. It made me consider contingencies of classical virtue, in a philosophical sense, of stuff like, “well, what if it’s just fwacked and bwammo’d on my end, for ethical and moral purposes, like self-restraint, and public relations considerations, et al - considerations?” I’m not all that cognizantly a pornographic narcissistic exhibitionist, via search, so outright and simple. Who is? - I figure. 

Okay. Some people are…, or, uh, I dunno. I don’t really know anybody. Who really knows the real somebody, anymore, these days, enough to truly get to know somebody, for real friends, types of purposes? Some guy gets me, like that, and we’re hanging out, right now. Some notes, I encounter, are that he makes me desire drugs, none whatsoever, while he’s with me, and, by and large, I’d refrained from re-dosing myself, whereas, I’d probably, most surely, have had chosen otherwise, had I been by myself, which is characteristic. I’m always by myself, as a homeless person. I’m always fraught with the presence of others (okay, sometimes, perhaps. I do like people-watching, a bit - but not, like, I’m super-in to it, or by any means, inappropriate) - I’d used pornography, in my personal time, to satisfy that sort of personal aspiration at intrigue. I guess that some people find it creepy, since the reality of creating pornography is sometimes a matter of abuse, from an objective, societal perspective - in common sense, in other words. I know that, well enough, yet the pursuit of capturing the essence of beauty pervades our young minds, regardless of religious underpinnings, reeling against that sort of impulse. But what could possibly be left of childhood, for one thing, if these types of freedoms and expressions of ourselves were so truthful, accessible, and… simple, on one hand? It would easily cheapen the structure of authority, itself, if our nude and sexually vulnerably prone selves were our easily accessible identities, in common encounters. 

One thing that I imagined, in this moment - fleeting that it seems, for me, since I’d gone off, on contextual and corollary subjects, yet - here, I envisioned that I; within this context of this new friend that I have, for the time being - he’s still somewhat anonymous and new, for me, and a bit lofty, which is fine - my take on things is that reoccurrences, of casual encounters, is a rightful duty that true locals have to bear, for the namesake of being a local. Out here, that could get pretty rough, for a well-traveled person, yet intelligence, in many cases, rises to the task - independently supporting what’s duly right - simply right, as our higher power, as individuals, in a sense. Anyways, I showed the guy some of my old photos, and they were blurry - jittery, so to speak. I considered various things, such as - had “such and such” headquarters got rattled, of their data centers? On one hand, I’m a bit of a sore subject, in big tech c-space circles, imaginably, yet, I’ve encountered, in some instances, old dogs of men just don’t want to look bad, in front of people, if they can help it - something like that. Another thing that I’d been imagining is this “live forever” thing, and the consequences of equitability, and personal responsibility in the matter, sort of thing. It’s a hugely flouted topic, amongst people of my peer group, age-wise, I imagine, or figure. I mean, they see me, and, based on my past, they constantly seek retributions, actively, whereas, as I’d detailed, previously, here, the well-mannered and austere, or even “anonymous” (for not… well, I dunno, I guess, what makes a person anonymous, off-hand, except… well, maybe it’s the adults-only contextuals, or something - so much sexual abuse goes on) amongst the big tech corporate figures - they maintain (forgive the cheap grammar, please; it’s just for ease of usage) composure by long-gone-on standards of ethics, which are enforced, and admired, throughout the millennia, for the inherent, fundamental, and structuralized sustainability within those forms. These types of restraints and restrictions upon our expectations, and our selves - forms some of the suffering and burdens that some people are commonly fond of, or some cultures, for example - as an off handed quip, but I figure that people know what I’m talking about. 

Anyways, ugh. A huge array of annotations and subject and author citations to wrangle out - while I’m shallow-means deep, in this Sticker Time concept, perhaps, which I’d used a one-step (mostly) app, lately, to vectorize and “cute-if-y” my photo images (mostly mine, but I hadn’t foreseen some of these consequences) - such as my old photos becoming jittery, which I can withhold from doting and musing upon - for one thing. I can, as well, get around to these image annotations, T & C’s checkings-on, and making-sure, kinds of stuff, but some of these Sticker Time images, I feel that I couldn’t just do without, as far as handing them out, anonymously, and scarcely - because, on one hand, who could possibly truly be “God,” whatsoever, with absolute expectations and breadth of reach, reliably? Some people just aren’t reached. 

I figure - I’ll Sticker Time some folks, when I can, at random, mostly, and equitably - Sticker Time them.

Now my old photos are jittery. 


Original photo shared by @a_london_pigeon, on Twitter. Cartoony-look (plain vector) by Vector Q app.

Wednesday, May 4

How to compose a proper personals and classifieds ad for success.

Last night, I wound up nearly accepting a “hang out” offer, from some guy that sat near me on the train home from Santa Monica. 

The first premise, at issue, here, is that I generally take issue with “guys” and “hanging out,” somewhat as a flat-out decree, being that people who pay attention to me, personally, and as a person - generally, (post-university years, especially) are the types of people who failed at school, they have nothing to do except bet on that I’d be an unrelenting gay hooker, and they sit around, drinking alcohol, taking drugs, laughing amongst themselves with a notion as trivially slight as that, and some forces of networking and psychology get put out, on the loose, and eventually - the victim of such intentions having played out, in life, become the rhetoric upon which demographic typologies are forged, and a litany of followers ensue - as casual stalkers, out on the streets, somehow - “just” how, I’ve never bothered to figure out, but people wound up treating me a little bit differently, today; some guys, for example, and they greeted me, whereas more commonly, it’s typical for people to ignore me, out on the streets. It hadn’t always been like this, I can recall. Here and there, I recall a time, yet not the place, off-hand, where people would greet each other,, much more commonly than we do, in these times. On one hand, Covid-19 caused us to be conditioned for social distancing to have become the standard. The anarchists rebelled against this sort of premise, and they proceeded onward with assaults upon people’s personal and private spaces alike, and even more people than ever started finding ways in which they could keep to themselves, or gather in more exclusive circles than ever - I, for one, being particularly isolated; introverted, by nature, that is, to say, couldn’t possibly suit the sort of personality type discussed in articles that featured accounts of discrete Covid-19 circles being established - I’m a bum; a pigeon-feeding bum, as my most prominent sort of bum, and it’s generally taboo for people of the middle or upper classes to associate with a bum, by and large, although here and there, small tokens of acknowledgment are witnessed, such as considerate food or drink offerings are left out, and, in many cases - recyclables are left out. It’s suggestive of that people would like to see a working person, as well as a hungry person, out of the sort of people who have wound up at the end of their rope, in life - so to speak, and who else, but an otherwise unhoused person would have to seek out novel accommodations of food and general interests? For one, a stalking victim would have to, a knave, a mentally I’ll person, here and there - a few, or several types, that is to say. People who were observing me, earlier today, noticed that I was acting out imprints of having been a bum, whereas I had just secured confirmation of that I had a promising serendipitous moment happen for me, in finding a client for my gardening services offer, which I’d put up on craigslist, the other day. My budget is tight, but it’s only $5 for a services ad, and I figure that craigslist features a rich trawl of both interested, as well as valid - employers, for jobs, big and small, as well as clients of all sorts - I’ve personally landed several thousand craigslist gigs, to be sure.

Historically, craigslist had been acknowledged as one of the Big 5, of the internet - inclusive of Google, Apple, Microsoft, hmm… I don’t remember the other one, but craigslist had been notably mentioned, in my encounters with content, on the internet, of having that distinction. Today, it apparently stands in the top 20 - not bad.

Friday, March 4

An open-ended apology, for recent personal shortcomings.

 Being that I run a .institute, there are certain expectations and responsibilities to uphold an ethical purpose, in the course of my doings and daily life, much of which is intermingled work and personal life setting and environment. I’m expected to behave responsibly, and not mar the public-facing image and reputation of the company, which is led by myself, and, as such, it ought to stand on its own. 

Recently, I had a counter-intelligence tactical ruse set upon me, and I became caught up in the moment, and somewhat subject to entertaining uncommon and unbecoming temptations. All things being said, some people like to exert power over others, and witness the outcomes of having influenced somebody into foolishness. This was the sort of circumstance I found myself in, and fortunately, it ended up just being a cold night out, for myself, and a homeless person’s day, out on a lawn, somewhere in West Hollywood. It could have been worse. 

I’m asking, in essence, for a less stimulating set of expectations and circumstance for myself, as I’m largely on the brink of absolute poverty of various sorts. Sure, perhaps I do well, at joking around, at times, but I do fall victim to certain types of shortcomings, but all in all, I’m fairly astute and well-intentioned in many of the things that I do; I wouldn’t do better to pursue some sort of personal identity boost and prominence of fame over virtue, in other words - I’m a good working-class man, not a public figure, per se. I can’t reasonably fulfill all expectations of myself, and keep on with a proper personal conscience and a respectable reputation, if I indulge in pleasing some people’s intentions and influences upon myself. Some of these things cause contention, and being that some of these things are superficial desires, there’s oftentimes little care, as to the outcome of what pleases people’s momentary fascinations and interests. 

Let’s be spirited about the greater picture in life that we have, as Americans, and Build Back Better, as our nation’s leader would have us do, and not joke around so much. There’s work to be done. Not everything that comes to pass deserves being commemorated, but please try to uphold an honorable reputation and influence over others that is considerate of the common good and need in society.

Tuesday, November 23

Ask why do my genitals smell like I’m dirty from out of nowhere, lately?

 I’ve been experiencing this phenomenon going on years, at this point, albeit in intervals. The experience of having this sort of debacle befall one’s self is a traumatic and humiliating one, to be certain, because most of us take care to keep ourselves clean. So why does this sort of thing happen? It would nearly seem as though we had somehow had a lapse in consciousness, where somebody had molested us, intentionally wiping their body odor on us, whereas we may have become aware of this; for me, for living out on the streets - it becomes a questionable occurrence, as well: then I clean myself, and it ends up happening all over again, whereas only a short time had passed, and there had been no established belief of that I had had a lapse in consciousness, or a strange encounter. Is it epilepsy? How could the continuity of time have been so seamlessly thwarted? It would, on the surface level, imply that there is a state of warfare, here in The Militarized Zone of DTLA and surrounding localities, of an unimaginable cost. There may be this sort of unspoken, ongoing strife and expenses wrought upon society, from where we stand, and stay, here, while intimations of “perhaps” truths are lobbed at us, some of them, an attempt to evince belief, others, to challenge us, of our beliefs, and some things that seem beyond belief. 

So, what is the truth? 

On some level, it’s important to simply just not freak out. Just recognize, or look it up: we do live in The Militarized Zone here. I didn’t know it until I started studying for my A+ certification, and I got the big book, for my studies. It seemed a somewhat aside note, yet somehow conceded, here, in this premise, for the techies. For the tech guys to understand. To gloat over it, or to disavow it would suppose that they’d been lying in this book of standard literature that many of us (perhaps mostly guys, this being the tech field and industry) had studied. I never went through with taking the test and certifying, but this inclusion of information was a preeminent and formative small facet of truth that was imbued in to my life. 

To continue, upon “not freaking out,” it simply “makes sense” that we’re here, by our own choice and volition, and many of us had been indulging in the vice industries, here. On some level, it’s somewhat “allowed;” even included, in the list of startup business licenses that are available out here, in the city of Los Angeles (at some point, perhaps I’ll come across this moment, once again, in my own startups pursuits, and I’ll include the link; I feel that it would be a bit of an arcane lore thing to rediscover, and cite, at this point in time. At least the article will have been written, already, though). 

The perhaps more sensible truth, that I’ll offer, being that casual remote sensing acquaintanceships and “portrayals,” I’ll say, are common - particularly for a guy like me, who tries to appear fetching and attractive. For example, an attractive young lady, about my age, or so, passed by me, as I was bummed out on the ground, earlier today. She was walking her dog. The supposition that I’d been attracted to her was gleaned, via intelligence, observing all of my interactions, feelings, thoughts, and emotions, all the time. Just maybe, she was attracted to me, as well. I personally choose to tread carefully, on this sort of context, since I know that I’m a bum. So how does this sort of thing happen? Is she a prostitute, smelling her day’s partner, and it becomes transmutable upon my own personage, for that a compellingly charming flirtation episode unraveled itself, as though she knew that I’m the pigeon-feeding bum? What did she really feel? was one of the suggestions lobbed at me. She was sociably a superior to me, as many women of this sort are: they get at the truth of sociability, in regards to many types of guys, and of girls who are like them, who live out this sort of prostitution-based lifestyle. 

Or am I being stalked by guys who are upset that they’re outside, and there’s a handsomer bum out here, being a narcissist, and they somehow command this capability? I certainly doubt that I had an unbeknownst (and, for that matter), commonplace sort of genitalia-smell exchange sort of sicko molestation sort of quick encounter, of a reputation that I don’t know about, happening to me. That would seem to imply an inordinate demand upon people of a type of cost and primacy basis, of being somewhere at a timely-enough jaunt, such to render me a more humble and hapless man, whereas I don’t really deserve that sort of outcome, in life. Sure, I had once (only once, though), been an ass-grabber, and I’d “somewhat” molested women, and all of these sorts of events were, in fact, consensual activities, and I was just a guy who’d been brought up, in part, of a detrimental nature, to have given me this sort of psychotic abandon and sense of entitlement of inappropriateness. So I did this sort of thing, many years ago, back in my youth. I don’t talk much to guys, so I don’t really know how prevalent this agreement of seeking and discovering a prostitute, for patronage, actually happens. Much of what I hear is conjecture, simply put.

I just feed the sparrows. I won’t deny that resonance warfare tactics exist, and I also wouldn’t quite suppose that people “don’t” commonly hear voices in their head, and I’d somewhat believe that people do establish face to f1ce relationships, perhaps sometimes, only, based on positive affirmations and positive conditioning that occurs, as a consequence of having been coddled, by what amounts to a support mechanism, of the intelligence community, that transpires, whereas I feel that the excuse is that we’re shy around each other, and perhaps not ready to really take the plunge, whereas more bold men, better for it, for a moment, or for a more long-term outset about things, are the ones who gain inroads in to establishing romantic relationships at this point in time, and so far. I feel that it’s well enough if I get people to acknowledge me and smile, perhaps, and it boosts my self esteem a little, when that happens. A truly serendipitous occasion, or opportunity, is a much more rare thing, although it more typically winds up in producing a long-term relationship, more fruitfully, and surely so, whereas I can imagine that it’s difficult to convince someone to not continue forth in life, as a prostitute. It’s awrr rawr rough and tough, not being a prostitute, I imagine. 

Monday, August 16

The online store (preview launch).

 I'm launching a private preview to my new online store, which will be offering essential oil and fragrance absolute personal misting bottle aromatherapy and personal care products, such as natural soaps, and other toiletry products, to come, in the near future. 

Here is the temporary (private) link to preview the online launch of my e-commerce store:

The store aims to provide direct-to-consumer deals on personal and home aesthetics and care products, with flair and artisan | boutique exclusivity. Consumers benefit from my constant efforts in sourcing quality ingredients and from my dedications to research and online publishing, in which I discover online resources which have led me to be able to provide affordable luxury products, with all-natural ingredients, of high quality and purity, hand-made with care and with attention to the utmost standards in manufacturing.

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