Ton of Feathers, Ton of Steel.
Sep. 7th, 2006 11:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jacktellsliesTime and objects may be stolen and borrowed. Also, I've been told to do this.
Meredith got her first tattoo today: a twisted ouroboros.
There was ritual: we smelled crayons and ate the first candy corn of the season, standing at a crossroads (it happened to be there) under a huge and orange full moon. Unadulterated glee was successfully invoked. We walked to a bench and sat down to find broken eggshells and talk about sex. Ritual complete.
Debate: I dislike meta-livejournal. However. The story of why my lovely and perfect computer is no more is embarrassing and terrible and I deserve the repercussions. As long as I am communicating in ways that I dislike, I will simply state that were this a self-aware Canadian afterschool special, at this point not only would my computer be broken, but I'd probably have no friends, be in counseling, and be goth within two episodes of the start of next season.
There are certain things that I do want to be writing down, things that should be tracked. They are not the same things that I had previously been tracking, though.
Is the desire to spend more time reading real books combined with the near instantaneous destruction of possessions and the fact that my paid account is running out on September eleventh a sign from the gods?
A computer is a terribly expensive internet machine. I do nothing for which one would really need such a device. I do not make music or art or force my machine to stretch the known decimal places of phi to improbable new lengths. If I fix this problem or find a new toy, I will be obliged to make something fantastic.
But I spend quite a lot of my time at work. In order to feel like an intelligent individual who understands culture on any meaningful level, I need to spend less time here and more time reading published works. Would sending out missives and rarely interacting with others make me a terrible bastard of entirely the wrong sort? I am usually so very fond of reciprocity.
I feel that my handwriting is inappropriate for some topics, and I feel crippled writing things down, whereas I type nearly as fast as I think. But a paid account and a new monitor or a new machine entirely will cost quite a lot more than even the most perfect of paper things. It isn't that I don't have the money just now, but couldn't I be saving it for something better?
Do I really need to own anything at all?
Come May, I can go anywhere and do absolutely anything I like. New Zealand is an intensely silly option. Either this or a piece of paper may know more of these things soon enough.
Meredith got her first tattoo today: a twisted ouroboros.
There was ritual: we smelled crayons and ate the first candy corn of the season, standing at a crossroads (it happened to be there) under a huge and orange full moon. Unadulterated glee was successfully invoked. We walked to a bench and sat down to find broken eggshells and talk about sex. Ritual complete.
Debate: I dislike meta-livejournal. However. The story of why my lovely and perfect computer is no more is embarrassing and terrible and I deserve the repercussions. As long as I am communicating in ways that I dislike, I will simply state that were this a self-aware Canadian afterschool special, at this point not only would my computer be broken, but I'd probably have no friends, be in counseling, and be goth within two episodes of the start of next season.
There are certain things that I do want to be writing down, things that should be tracked. They are not the same things that I had previously been tracking, though.
Is the desire to spend more time reading real books combined with the near instantaneous destruction of possessions and the fact that my paid account is running out on September eleventh a sign from the gods?
A computer is a terribly expensive internet machine. I do nothing for which one would really need such a device. I do not make music or art or force my machine to stretch the known decimal places of phi to improbable new lengths. If I fix this problem or find a new toy, I will be obliged to make something fantastic.
But I spend quite a lot of my time at work. In order to feel like an intelligent individual who understands culture on any meaningful level, I need to spend less time here and more time reading published works. Would sending out missives and rarely interacting with others make me a terrible bastard of entirely the wrong sort? I am usually so very fond of reciprocity.
I feel that my handwriting is inappropriate for some topics, and I feel crippled writing things down, whereas I type nearly as fast as I think. But a paid account and a new monitor or a new machine entirely will cost quite a lot more than even the most perfect of paper things. It isn't that I don't have the money just now, but couldn't I be saving it for something better?
Do I really need to own anything at all?
Come May, I can go anywhere and do absolutely anything I like. New Zealand is an intensely silly option. Either this or a piece of paper may know more of these things soon enough.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-09-25 08:32 pm (UTC)