Journal Entry – July 31st

 Journal Entry – July 31st

By Jonathan Olvera

This is a very bright day—one of the hottest times of the year. The height of summer. Most of my time has been spent working on projects that demanded every ounce of attention I could give.

The projects have included plumbing systems, electronic monitoring devices, land surveys, documentation, and frequent improvisations to meet daily challenges.

Keeping up with technology and maintaining meticulous records is nearly vital to me. It’s a habit, a discipline—and, in many ways, a hobby I’ve grown into.

Much of the time, I find myself staring at the dirt. This place—the site—is composed mostly of earth samples and rocks collected from different parts of the world. It has become a resting ground of sorts, a place symbolic enough to lay the Roman Empire to rest. Things change. But the earth, especially the old riverbed, mostly stays the same.

It’s difficult to give complete instructions in a place like this.

I spend my time defining electrical dimensions, meditating on resources—their locations, movements, and behavior within the Earth's shifting matrix.

It is important for me to track changes in energy and resource flow—how to find them, how to monitor them, how to measure them.

I always want to make the best decisions.

To be a good leader requires knowledge, preparation, education, and practice. Everything eventually comes down to a moment—a time and a place—where you are forced to choose.

That decision is never easy, though it’s one we all know well.

The choice to define control—how to quantify the needs and measures of resources—is one of the hardest. It is a question of method, and of how that method is applied.

And that application—defining it—has proven troublesome.

We can all see that there is work to be done. From the headcount of cattle to the valuation of estates, from the grading of land to the positioning of livestock and infrastructure. Resources, workforce, and the proper notation of all vital elements must be accounted for to keep things moving.

It is complicated sometimes.

But there is always a priority.

To me, the most pressing and dying issue has always been the proper display and documentation of labor, trade, and workforce valuation—alongside the strict enforcement of systems, resource structures, spheres of influence, and directional use.

The consumption rate of the population within these structures fuels a constant need for labor. But it begs the question: is this system a punishment—or is it just a social experiment?

There is no real need for Celtic mechanics to be so advanced, though they are.

There is no true need for the extravagant feats of mechanical engineering that have made their way into our society—yet they’ve been accepted. Sometimes without resistance.

Should they be embraced? Or condemned?

It becomes difficult to monitor the crimes embedded in these developments. The challenges we face aren't always loud or obvious. They revolve around basic principles: murder, burglary, violence, and wrong. But they are masked by complexity.

We are in a time where control must be redefined—across biology, behavior, and practice.

Sometimes it feels like entertainment—this chaos. A kind of modern-day Babel.

Where does the evil begin? When labor is reduced to a number, a line item, a statistic? How do we quantify the true value of what our workforce can produce?

We must be sure—absolutely sure—of the method by which we measure this display.

But the more we try to lead, the more the population resists. Leadership becomes harder to accept. Governance becomes a decision in itself—to define the limits, the parameters, the interests of a people.

We must provide new rules for labor, for artificial regions, and for regional claims.

And the rules must change at the level of ownership.

That change—the redefinition of who can claim, who can build, who can contribute—will mark the difference between progress and stagnation.

Things become more interesting when you think of men not just as individuals, but as results—shaped by time, pressure, temperature, gravity, and the subtle shifts of the solar system.

So, where does the bickering begin?

And is there ever a time to end it all—and begin again, but more correctly?

I will never agree to bicker—not even for a moment, and certainly not over long stretches of time.

I know this system, like all things, will end. It will end completely. There is no true problem.

There is no real inequality. Everything can be made equal, if structure is applied correctly.

Medicine, however, is far more complicated. Sometimes even impossible—especially when we are forced to deal with the irrationality, the unlawful behavior, and the bizarre conditions surrounding livestock and other resource systems.

It feels insane at times. The lifestyle. The day-to-day. A kind of madness. A crazed rhythm born from the certainty of things we ignore, not the uncertainty we fear.

Some men must die—for things to return to normal.

Sometimes, those decisions—those sacrifices—are just as valuable as the discovery of a resource or the execution of a task. It comes down to the ability to follow instructions and to continue forward, regardless of the noise.

And I will continue.

I am not an embarrassment. I am not ashamed.

I am a successful person.

And I advance everything I do.