Still fighting like hell to keep from gaining more weight but again it’s like trying to hold back the tide. I really think I’m going to see the 160s really soon. I don’t know what else I can do to stop it, though. I’m trying to arrange my eating schedule in a different way but I honestly don’t see how that will help because I really do have to go down to a thousand calories or less in order to lose weight and I just can’t stand that. I’m just too old for that shit.

Now here’s the thing I’ve noticed. It’s not that I’m gaining easier, but more like retaining easier. In the past, If I didn’t eat the last 4-5 hours of my day or so I would drop a couple of pounds before bed. Not anymore. The weight is clinging longer after eating or drinking and it’s taking longer to drop back down after a few hours of having nothing. But why? What could be going on with me that’s causing this? It just seems a bit extreme for age/peri.

I’m hoping, however, that the new eating arrangement will at least stop the gaining but I don’t think it will. I think I’m just slowing down the inevitable. I can’t even drink a cup of coffee without jumping half a pound that can take half a day to lose.

Last night I was browsing through YouTube videos and saw a horrible picture. One of the videos I watched showed photos just moments before tragedy struck. One of them was a gay man falling from a tall building that was pushed off and being executed by ISIS. It was a horrifying thing to see. Just totally sick, sad, infuriating and disgusting. How can one human do that to another without feeling a shred of guilt? How can they feel that’s the right thing to do? How can they believe their imaginary God would possibly pat them on the back for it? If it would, then it’s no God of mine.

But then I got to thinking about it… Is there really no one on the face of this Earth that I myself could do that too? Being honest with myself, I realized that while I couldn’t participate in actually throwing them off the building, and I couldn’t stand to watch them hit the ground like a watermelon hitting the ground with a gross, messy splat, I could certainly stand to know that child molesters, rapists and murderers, for example, were meeting a fate like that. Even one worse would be okay with me. Meaning that I would gladly look the other way without saying anything in protest. There are only a few people that I could actually torture and that I would be willing to do certain things to, but cutting their heads off, lighting them on fire or pushing them off of buildings isn’t what I would have in mind. Oh, I may end their existence in the end, but I would prefer a much less gory way. But then I think that humiliating them for the way they’ve wronged me would be much more fun and rewarding than actually taking their lives. Once you take lives they can’t live with whatever humiliation you’ve inflicted upon them and the horrible memories it would certainly bring.

Later…

So the world was more dangerous than ever at 11:58 PM (PT?) last night. But we survived. Wow, huh?

It’s a quiet Friday night and now I’m doing my writing now that my household duties have been taken care of. Well, it’s almost quiet. I hear the buzz of the freeway and who knows when the planes might get in on the action.

Nothing at all from Stacey or Palma and I have a feeling I’m probably not going to hear from either one of them no matter what I do. At first I was thinking, why bother sharing and tagging Palma when she’s almost certainly going to just ignore it? But then I realized it would at least flag her attention to the message I sent if nothing else. There’s still a chance she could have already spotted it and read it but there’s no way to know for sure. There doesn’t seem to be any activity on her account for a month and her friend count hasn’t risen either.

As for Stacey, she may reply with a message by phone but I wouldn’t count on it. I have a feeling she would prefer to keep me in the past as I have been in light of me calling her out on stuff she ultimately denied. I’ll find out soon enough, though. I was thinking I’d call her and tag Palma next week. Most people still have more free time on the weekend so I want to give them one more weekend to check in.

Didn’t have much stomach pain yesterday but today I had a little bit for the first few hours of my day.

Definitely didn’t have good dreams last night. The saddest one was where I guess I was terminally ill or something like that because I was being given a lethal dose of whatever. It was weird, though, because I was outdoors with a bunch of people somewhere. Maybe it was someone’s backyard. Only I didn’t seem to know anyone. I mean I knew the people but I didn’t know the people. The people closest to me were actually made-up characters in one of my books. I felt very woozy at one point and started to wonder if they were killing me in stages, so to speak, with whatever the on-hand nurse had been giving me so I wouldn’t be so overwhelmed.

Then I felt like I couldn’t keep my eyes open and I said I had to lay down. So I laid down on this lounge chair and could’ve sworn I heard someone say something about me not getting back up. Someone else said, “It’s okay sweetie. You can take a nap now and will finish later.”

What she meant by “finish” was the party going on. When I closed my eyes I wondered if I would ever open them again. I felt a slight prick on my arm and realized I’d been given the final dose that would put me out forever.

In another dream, I was in a bank somewhere with about 10 other people and this camera with this weird blinking red light followed my every move. Instead of thinking it was a motion sensor camera, I was sure that it was a gun and that whoever had set it up would shoot anybody who tried to leave the bank.

Then I had another dream where Tom and I were either homeless or the car had broken down and we had to carry some things. It was strange because one of the things was this large plastic doll sort of like an American Girl doll. I said I was going to just put her in the car and Tom snorted and made a gesture with his hands as if to say “What car.”

Instead, since she came with a backpack that could be strapped to a child’s back and since I was on the small side, I strapped her to my back.

In the last dream, I was back in jail and Mary slapped me. Instead of kicking her ass like I would have in real life, I just stood there completely flabbergasted.