inquiry

Wabbits, all.

Accounts and inboxes: holes full of everything but stick-borne carrots.

I miss earbud worlds like today.

Today it's one after another, although I get stuck on a few, so dozens of times for them: with at least as much – perhaps slightly improved upon, even – emotion each listen/performance.

Yes, listenings are performances too.

There's only your hearing of it, so the world way as well be on the brink at the time.

Or (as it seemed to me so many gobs of years ago that Hilary Clinton was, well, quite the lawyer..) such that the person I wanted more than everything else multiplied and factorial'd – and maybe even to-the-42nd-power'd – together were winnable, e.g. mine mine mine upon winning the very next pool game against a (haha) slightly lesser version of me that she could never want, so thank God the slightly better version of me that she could want just so happens to be on hand to defeat that poor sad little thing....

I should be writing code at the moment. But something a lot of people don't understand about writing code is there are definitely shades of breathing to it. You don't just inhale or just exhale. There's much stepping in and back.

Shit... like painting?

[Deleted long rambly section asking forgiveness for having first typed “Shit, man, like painting?”.. I mean, you do see the horrific privilege gaffe in that construct, no?]