whatever comes to mind

Quick Aside

Writing has felt boring again, of late. Seems the thrill – if and when any – is mostly of a hope-driven, pseudo variety.. imaginations of it accomplishing something.

But what could it, really?

Sure, I know, in the extreme case there could be financial reward, attention, even fame.

But short of that – at might be referred to as “my non-pay-grade” – what's the goal, here?

That something kinda sorta maybe happening in “my” mind happens kinda sorta maybe similar in another's?

But to what end? What's really being accomplished? Especially in the blogging case, i.e. minus evidence of specific others having read – let alone experienced the aforementioned hypothetical time-delayed mind synchronicity?

Have I been writing on the nearly non-existently-wispy fumes of imagining that happen?

(Speaking of fumes... what is said “I”?)

The Non-Vegan of the Matter

So I laid awake in bed for the longest time after we turned the lights out, literally realizing the non-duality of I/not-I (i.e. there being no sense/notion of I/not-I, but rather <can't be said>).

I mean for hours as my partner fell asleep, and went into some major foghorn snoring.

But eventually the snoring seemed something apart from me, and furthermore affecting me, and not in positive ways.

That eventually fanned the flames of its delusional self into significant hysteria, to the point of relationship madness.

There's something old-school-master-brutal about passing from non-duality awareness to utter conviction of the duality that begins with I/not-I.

> Rather than relying on thousands of engineers to > individually remember all the quirks of web application > security, it is a lot more efficient to focus on a > battle-tested set of frameworks and APIs and reduce the > need to constantly tweak these settings.

I found my joy increasing as I increasingly shunned happy horseshit file formats, and – especially – the deranged psychopathic adherents thereof.

> white men,

Still seeing people primarily in terms of, first, skin color.. and, then, gender?

Huh. And here I thought we were living in more woken, non-profiling times....

<shakes head whilst rolling eyes>

> Stuff is the bane of existence. It locks you and restrains > you and limits you. Real things like end tables and > couches. But also elemental things that transcend. Friends, > lovers, haters. They all are stuff. They can hold you > either willingly or you make feeble attempts to break > free. Nothing works though. You are chained by your stuff > Bill says.

The heaviest stuff of all – indeed, that to which the rest clings like psychological iron filings – is notion of self.

Lose that, and the rest falls away without a fight.

> I don't want to sit here and belabor the point, but; > Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, Snapchat, even > Mastodon, Pixelfed, and Pleroma – you name it – > they all have addictive, time-consuming, anti-creative > properties built into their service(s), and you should > abandon them immediately.

All “stuff” per the above....

> But I find when I say or do something a tad off, I see a > micro-expression of disdain, confusion. Our relationship > is in total jeopardy for that millisecond.

My coworkers have been chatting up a storm during my typing this into existence. But I get said micro-expressions right and left, too, leaving me thinking more about micro-expression avoidance than how to fit into their flow when they rev the chat engine to a glow.

> I think that's the big reason why I write. To be immersed > in worlds and relationships of my own creation. Because in > those worlds, I don't have to fit in. I'm not part of that > world like I am in this one. I can set the standards, the > conditions for what's normal and odd there. In this world, > I can control what I find normal and odd, but that will > never 100% match with what larger society finds normal > and odd.

Yeah, I get that. But then one micro-moment of realization it's all my doing somehow drains its value – as though fitting into others' worlds is somehow “more real”, or some such.

So, like anything else, it's fine until doubt that is shows up uninvited.

I felt that way about this place, even, yesterday afternoon – as though having awoken from a strange, delusional dream.

And so now to I wait somewhat impatiently for a fresh shipment of delusion to make it all better, to chip away the rough edges of doubt, Vaseline the lens, a touch of reverb here, a tad of compression there.

Anything but confuckingsensual reality....

           weekend over
           bright sunny
          sonic assault
           this thread
          I'm hanging by
          hurry, aspirin

Ah... a nod to where I loved internet-ing most....

Semi-significant snowfall in progress even as I type.

Wrote a ton of work documentation this morning.

Neighbor's German Shepherd enjoying the snow.

Speaking of which, a few days ago I saw an article claiming dogs can sense the Earth's magnetic poles situation, and mostly prefer orienting themselves in a north/south fashion when defecating. Needless to say, I considered that article a pile of shit.

Seems kind of dead around here, today.

Just wanna eat and drink coffee....

> I can’t stand battery saver on iOS. If I am not > constantly putting in text, the screen goes to sleep > damn near immediately. Like, yes that is the best way > to save battery, but it is really cheating, yes? No real > “innovations” in terms of turning off background apps > or anything like that. Just, SHUT THE PHONE OFF the second > I am not using it. #Lame

I absolutely detest devices/systems that shut themselves off. And I'd honestly be thinking that even were I in a wood chipper that turned itself off. I can't stand being treated like a child assumed to be not careful enough to be treated otherwise.

Thankfully, I found ways to keep the Chromebook and Android phone displays on until I explicitly turn them off.

But my work Windows laptop (whose settings along those lines can't be changed save by the employer)? Complete and total nightmare. I'm constantly having to reach out to diddle the touchpad so I don't have to login again.

But it doesn't end there. Being an utter “Windows shop”, I'm given Windows virtual machines for projects/integrations that also keep making me log back in every 10 minutes, or whatever the nightmare fuck it is. So between those and my actual laptop, I spend a non-trivial amount of time rushing between the three to diddle them to avoid having to login again... which of course now makes me wonder if it would just be better to let that happen, since it's going to be time down the drain anyway?

And <feeling a bit embarrassed now> why the fuck do I care anyway? If that's how they want me pay me to spend non-trivial time, why not just consider it part of the job, and be sure to list it as “accomplishments” when reporting status? “Oh, one more thing... I spent 10% of my time remaining logged into my Windows environments so avoid spending 11% of my time logging in all over again....”

Just ridiculously infantile....

> I need a #writing project (such as an e-book) and I want > that writing inspiration to hit me soon. There is still > the possibility of me exporting this blog as an ePub > document and there was some talk of that at one point, > but I don’t know when that will happen. If/when it does > happen, this blog will be turned into a sort of e-book. I > will look for “patterns” and “repetition” in my > writing and focus in on what is worth keeping, and write > a separate document about what was written as sort of > a “Self-analyzation”. Some of that sounds very A > Beautiful Mind-ish, but it is a lot saner (and lamer) > than you think.

Surely the title “Pipe Dreams” should be in running, amirite? ;–)

> the fact that there are good arguments both for and against > allowing comments on blogs

For the 666th time, what am I doing in this here sentence?

> Well, if I had done one blog post per day, that was 500 > words, seven days a week, for fourteen years – that > equals 2,555,000 words written. Realistically it is > much, Much higher a number. That is why I am rounding to > 3 Million words written. Perhaps more like 4 or even 6 > million words. I was shocked when I started to think about > it all, starting with a (failed to previously mention) > e-book I wrote in 2014/15 titled “Job Corps Rule!” > that was ended at 100K words, which is 10% of 1M, which > got me to crunching numbers.

Fun look-back!

I got rather angry at my partner last night, and somehow in conjunction started questioning the value of my doing this (blogging thing), to the point of pounding some gobbledeegook in a file named “write.end”.

But in this moment is a cooler head prevailing.

File deleted....

<he types, reaching out to diddle the work laptop's touchpad....>

> if it weren’t for me counting on it for a w.a Pro > subscription

If I didn't know better, I'd say you were dreaming. ;–)

> Anyway, today has been blah as blah can be. Just nothing > eventful happening and awful #stlwx outside.

Some unexpected snow took me by surprise about an hour ago.

But partner is out with her sister after work, which I'll take as compensation for the snow surprise.

Gonna have me a coffee, then possibly mess with the truss rod on the acoustic to hopefully eliminate some buzz.

> one skyscraper reflected in the windows of another > skyscraper

Gots to admit loving the timing, having so recently posted about reflections of a more sonic nature....

Pretty good work day, here.

Not that I did a whole of a lot of it, mind you.

But I did what I felt rose to the level of the pay.

I know.. I know.. I'm the first person you've ever heard of doing such an integrity-less thing....

The way I'm thinking of it, today, is we all need to do our part keeping others honest. And sometimes it's the “big boys” that could use a little draining of their swamp, no?

See, this is the kind of thing “progressive” types can't seem to get through their hyper-idealist skulls: that people aren't going to behave ideally, thus rendering their hyper-idealist plans/programmes the cock of poppies.

And what I'm describing today is just barely scratching the surface of what humans will do if/when they think no one is looking.

It's actually rather humorous they're so beside themselves for having been beaten by a guy so accurately representing the behavior of their worst nightmare: a typical American talking the talk whilst crocking the walk....

<pretends to cry big crock-of-shit-odile tears>