Checking in: What’s happening, and what’s there to look forward to, at iPigeon.institute.

 I’d been a bit absent, lately, 

in recent months. This has been due to personal difficulties, on account of various things:

• Back and neck pain
• Budgeting challenges
• Poor weather
• Perceived, or actual threats, to my personal security
• Persona developments
• Remote sensing acquisitions of my time

The truth is, I’d become a bit apathetic, and worry-worn, due to constant challenges and negativity surrounding me, essentially drawing a dark cloud over previous years, in which I’d had eccentric bursts of creativity and prolific resource of novelty and humor. These days, I find it difficult to drum up the same personal rapport and morale, being that the situations suppose, even more than I’d experienced, previously, since I began suffering from bouts of hearing persecutors voices, and from then until now - largely, now, have a distinctive dark taint of familiarity, amongst the characters whom present themselves to me, as harassers, which envelops my subconscious mood and fears of ever establishing yet another dysfunctional relationship, that I bring myself in to.

To be sure, it’s mostly guys that do this to me. With women, I’m much more optimistic, of that they could be “fixed,” perhaps, if necessary, or set aright, in some manner, if it came to that - it’s just sort of a feeling, more than that anything’s materialized; encounters with females are scarce, and not much of anything, although I have been feeling sparks of inspiration, in romance, in recent days and weeks, I’d suppose, and I guess that I’ve been working myself up to dipping my toes in the water, once again, so to speak. It’s a raw deal, that I run, being that I’m fraught with such a defensive and secluded personality framework spectrum of “possible” me’s, which I could make available, and secure some kind of workable sociability profile, for a lady, being that I’m picky, I’ve got formative standards and boundaries set for myself - I don’t tolerate much of any kind of conflict, or distaste, or aversion, to something that’s “not right,” or worse, in a relationship setting, being that I’m a very high 99th percentile degree of honest, and forthcoming, in life, I “don’t smoke (any drugs),” I’m very much present, in the moment, when it comes to opportunities to judge people, and on top of that, my neurotic spectrum of tendencies is still of that I’m generally shy, not much really capable of coming up with a right way to casually wedge my way in to some young lady’s life, and circumstances, and, furthermore, I’m somewhat expected to not even try to date, while on the job, for various reasons and rationale:

• I’m a bum
• My clothes are oftentimes messy
• Sometimes I sweat a lot
• I have a bunch of baggage - literal, bum and pigeon-feeding bum sorts of carry-along baggage
• My nose leaks and drips, endlessly
• I feel like crap, as far as limber qualities - I carry a lot of bags, as I’d mentioned
• A lot of people (women) could run circles around me, in socialization standards
• I’m there for the pigeons, and I can’t afford to look like a creep
• It’s a better trade-off, to be silent, keep to myself, and persist, in feeding pigeons
• I run a strictly fairly conservative Christian Protestant profile, of not much talk, or socializing
• I just keep to myself
• I have to protect my iPad Pro
• Sometimes, I feel like people are following me
• I have people making appearances in my mind, all the time
• I feel like some people definitely don’t like me, categorically, and sometimes, they show up, in town
• I feel like it would look funny, or scandalous, if I somehow materialized some kind of idealized female counterpart, at my side
• People put my personal private time at issue, and they criticize ostensible things that I do (or not)
• I have to do a sit-in job, while out and about, of performing licensed talk and behavioral therapist, marriage and family therapist, some sort of amalgamated public and mental health capacity type of fill-in, sort of work profile, lumped in
• Maybe these are just the “toilet can years” of this pigeon-feeding gig’s enterprise

Ha ha 😛. I had the imagination come up, through remote sensing, of that toilet can was featured as part the 2023 Grammys pre-show comedic fare. What an ingratiating boost 👍🏻.

— Jay Ammon - Founding Director at iPigeon.institute (@jay_ammon) February 3, 2023

• I’d given myself a minimum of decades, as far as the estimated arc and development roadmap of the business ought play out
• People are superficial, in some key and characteristic, defining ways - there’s a lot to be defensive about
• I just don’t have anything to say - I’m much better at messaging, for one thing
• Sometimes I can’t help how I look, when I look poorly
• I don’t change my clothes, on many occasions, and they get a bit dirty (I just lost all my clothes, due to them being removed from the group home’s premises)
• I like to close out open-ended problems, as they occur, yet things don’t always play out, according to reasonable expectations
• I’m usually completely broke (I’m paying my debts down, this year, though, so that could change, in the future)
• I can talk, or speak “well,” but I’m a shadowy figure, a bit (not shady, though)
• I only usually have my iPad Pro, to show, for myself
• I’m on an “always-on, being surveilled,” kind of thing, and the voices are hostile, seeking concessions and damages
• People talk about scary stuff, around, and towards me, and it gets scary, for me, sometimes
• I do the most garbage humor routines, for different ranges of people demographics 

I said, “I do it for toilet can.”

— Jay Ammon - Founding Director at iPigeon.institute (@jay_ammon) February 3, 2023

There’s more, but perhaps I should get some rest, for now. 

Alright, 

Now I’m back, with some substantive updates. To imagine, it’s been a regular bout of cold and rainy weather, as I try to make sense of what’s come of my efforts, seeing as how, at times, the birds, in town, seem like they’re just the same old birds, getting fed, by me. Okay. It’s not really like that, but you’d have to understand, already, what I was going to write out. In any case, being that I’d familiarized myself with the newcomers in town, and, some time had passed, in which I’d established some formality, for these new birds, as far as expectations, as to what, and how often, and some framework of social structure, by which to intuit, learn, and establish behaviors upon, based around feeding the birds, I’d sometimes longed for other backdrops to my days and nights, especially since it’s been raining an awful lot, and I’m sometimes tied in to strange and uncharacteristic scenarios of abuse and entanglement that pops up locally, whereas access to resources becomes a scarcer potential to attain, given more interest in populating those resources. 

So, I leave town, and I overnight, I do my daily dues, out in a different city, checking on the birds, trying to plant myself as a dutiful, diligent, and suitably occupied bird-feeding guy, or various sorts of other stuff that I pile on, to my carry-along stuff. For example, I went out to Pasadena, CA, the other day, as I might have, in any other time in my young adult life until now, as it’s a bit more scenic, and the Metro Gold Line, from Downtown Los Angeles’ Union Station, zips right on over, that way, just several stops, from Downtown. On this night, it was raining, fairly regularly. Thankfully, it wasn’t too cold out, given that I was wearing multiple layers. Other people were wearing much less, but I suppose, ehh… I uh, actually… 

Man… the attention span thing.

. . .  

Anyways, it becomes difficult, sometimes, as many could understand - being the “different” one, in casual genetics 🧬  engineering, through maintaining a regimen of a rich diet for the birds, with some supplements, here and there. As it turns out, at this point in time, (2023 a.d.), some people have no patience for much else than what suits their existential crisis, of various forms that I come across. Eek. Topic creeping back up, in to my content, here, but, on one hand, in the bird flocks, they accept all comers, for the feast, and who knows what happens to the relentless bickering ones? I’d imagined that they’d all become sociable and satiated, through having been well-fed, throughout all seasons, and that they’d simply stopped those types of behaviors, such as picking on the young, as a manner of “teaching” them something, of “avian” know-how, in the ways in which they would. 

“I like mama!”

Looking further, in to some of the gritty realities of some bird bunches that I come across, I’d realized that, perhaps, the young had been picked, from the nest, and taken out of the hard life areas, in which pigeons get fed luxuriant [sandwich] meals (mostly), and I end up seeing evolutionarily-advanced birds, of various ages, at times, planted amongst other local or [slight] regional “other” flocks, or flocks that I had known about, in previous years, or seasons, and I wonder:

Had other people been doing a similar, or same, type of feeding and supplementation regimen, on their own birds, or donated them, or are these ones visitors? 

I used to not get around, all that much, outside of my regular daily thing, out in Downtown Los Angeles; at least, for perhaps the past couple or few years, or so. I’d been pretty regular, there, and things became more clear, to me, as far as the slight exclusive preferences, of small and nested locales, as well as what had become local law, regarding feeding the birds, and where else, where the birds would suddenly appear, or disappear from, and what that sort of thing could mean. On one hand, different feeders have their own special way about things. Some of the birds get tough corn grits, and the birds love it, but I figure, as for myself, “how could the birds not like a tasty sandwich meal, even better?” 

In truth, the birds just don’t get around, all that much, in this place and time, in the local avian ecology of things, such as travel, and, as well, subjects such as modularity and preference panel choices in lifestyle options, such as food and care. I try to keep up with things, amongst various flocks, in places in which I.m familiar with, yet some things come in to play, such as:

• Being patient, for example. Sometimes, it takes some time, sitting down, in order for the local birds to “try out” checking on a new guy, like me, showing up, in a new place (for me, that is), and, hopefully, meanwhile, the local population, or “somebody,” keeps up a regular-enough regimen of feeding the birds, so that they know how to accept food from people, and how to court them, with their presence and song.
• Returning to my known haunt spots, of where I’d lived, or transit pathways I’d characteristically travel through, in the past. Typically, many of my common activities are somewhat centered around that there’s birds, at least within walking distance, so that I could establish rapport with the birds, and build upon a larger sequence of habits and locales I might visit; learn a new walking route, for example, and perhaps get to know some locals, over time. For example, I came across this fledgling group of young birds, where there had previously been a large, burgeoning flock of pigeons, and there were churches, nearby, and I’d presumed that the birds were a somewhat attraction and ongoing topic of discussion, and perhaps “somebody’s” responsibility and duty - I’d not attended church, at all, going on years, and, particularly, not at these locations. Perhaps they’d just casually assumed that I’d show up, on a regular basis. In fact, I did show up, regularly, but the local attraction, for me - the grocery store, put up a sign, declaring that the birds were no longer allowed to be fed, at the store, hence, I stopped having as much of a reason to show up, in the area. On top of that, I’d also been thrown out of my housing arrangement, in the area, as well. 

These babies were cold, and confused, looking for food. I guess that there was no one regular, around here, to see to it, that they get food. I gave them a bagel. pic.twitter.com/JtVDbP2tGV

— Jay Ammon - Founding Director at iPigeon.institute (@jay_ammon) March 21, 2023