In the treasure trove of memories, let’s see what I can find.
Once many a year ago, it must’ve been during fall, but that’s not right because it was winter outside and so therefore it must’ve actually been during winter.
During winter, we were in Tallinn; one of my absolute favourite places to travel to, a medieval city centre and great stuff like they’ve got a torture museum and a medieval restaurant in which I celebrated my 30s birthday. And they are famous for knitwear and amber (I think).
I knew an Estonian guy once, we were in type of special school, which I won’t specify more precisely here as it is out of scope, so anyhow a special school with this guy: we weren’t precisely friends. He loved Yngwie Malmsteen and played the guitar. I absentmindedly started to fiddle with the turning knobs on there as he was playing. The keys or whatever they’re called. I didn’t mean nothing by it, was just letting my mind wander and he happened to be sitting next to me with the guitar and then I did that. Same as when I crumbled that toy airplane when I was a child; my mind was elsewhere. Then he punched me.
Anyhow so we were in Tallinn on our way to the harbour and there a guy just pulled his pants down and shat in the middle of the street!!
Isn’t that something?
There’s a very thin layer of snow coating the land outside, softening the colours and making everything glitter in the moonlight.
🕳️
My fingertips are cold, my knees are too.
It’s easier to live today, the horrid feeling has evaporated.
It’ll soon be back but I’ve heard it told that one should live in the present.
The good thing about feeling bad is that I experience the lack of bad feelings as a very good thing. Invigorating, precisely why also it’s good to go a few years without smell; if ever I catch a whiff no matter of what, it’s a welcome one.
Okay take care!!
Whether! Sometimes (and this is a metaphor) when you are about to drown, you need to get your head above the water first in order to tell the story.
A pretty bad metaphor, but I’ve been having this sense of unease that I cannot exactly put my finger on. No that’s not true; I can put (one) finger on there, it’s rather I’m just not sure how to articulate that which I’m feeling.
I’m not used to that, more to being sealed like a vault, and now that I’m opening it a little bit, a stink of stale air comes out.
It was a while since I posted something here, like 17 hours ago?
It’s the case that I’ve been busy playing hearthstone battlegrounds and working and reading stuff.
The hens make me happy yet they bind me. Usually I don’t want to go anywhere, as I’ve like I said been abroad and seen some stuff, none of which have made any significant impact on me, my travelling I prefer to do in my own head where I can fantasise about stuff.
This post isn’t about fork bombs at all since I’m no longer a UNIX admin and furthermore I believe modern systems aren’t as exciting to goof around on due to ulimits and the like.
In much the same way a snake might shed its skin, I have left my special interest in fork bombs behind me.
Instead I now like to pick mushrooms; Something which used to anger me to the point where I would throw the big red plastic bucket into the deepest darkest part of the forest in an impressive display of raw primitive manliness.
Instead now it soothes me. Like a treasure hunt where everyone is a winner.
Always it seems on the duality theme; the thing is that the world is so complex that it’s easy to lose (I think) your footing along the way, as you can sway back and forth and it’s a strength too to be able to see things from multiple points of views: both sides of the medallion usw., but like I said: also a bad thing.
That’s a good start I think. A pretty good start.
Anyhow
The pregnant thought was: That which makes farts stink; the thiols, is the very same thing which makes the aged cheese smell so good.
That’s pretty interesting.
Speaking of which, now with my sense of smell seems to be returning to me, I will once again buy the banana shampoo and balsam that I liked so much.
It feels pretty good to have opinions on such things again after a long spell of apathy.
I couldn’t put my finger on the mood change; couldn’t put my finger on it, or name the force which dragged me out of my little pit of sadness, but I see now on the sky a silver yellow full moon.
Life doesn’t weight on me so much today. The sun’s been out. I feel smells now and the food tastes stronger.
I’m having a nice everything and that’s pretty neat
Funny thing is that it’s more or less the same life as yesterday. Nothing remarkable has changed, and yet everything seems easier.
It’s some or other imbalance in the humours, I think, specifically the black bile; it could’ve been the hot tea I drank which brought everything back on track and now I am ready to face life.
It’s very inspiring how Geralt of Rivia wants to avoid choosing the lesser evil but is unable to strikes a chord in me.
Not choosing sides is also a choice. You cannot avoid.
I like how Geralt is a mutant by some considered a monster, and yet how he fights monsters for a living and that the humans in there are sometimes the real monsters, much like in Frankenstein book.
That’s some food for thought.
There’s been something sad about me lately, bent as I’ve been in the gloom in front of my screen, using Teams on Windows. Having a beer belly. Using 2FA everywhere everyday. Typing my passwords and the PIN, the confirmation code and then again: the PIN. Not just one. It feels like dying in the inside a little bit.
Guess I’ve been stressed. Think I’m too old to start a new job like this: my fortune of trust and goodwill that I accumulated throughout the years is now reset.
It’s been dark.
What else is there? I’ve been wanting to write about that fox which gnawed on one of my crocs and ruined the sport mode strap.
Then I thought who cares about my crocs.
Who indeed.
Usually when I’m feeling this way I try to do something, like jog, or whatever, but even I, who am attuned to the moon, cannot see in this blackness out there.
ok I’m neither starving, eaten by dinosaurs, in prison, homeless, alone having the Black Death nor in a war.
Hello and welcome!! Today I’ll write about something really interesting and it’s something I’ll think of just now.
Let’s see…
when Vinnie Paz spits this line:
I ain’t the smartest motherfucker but I’m not a dummy
from the ”Keep movin’ on” track; a cautionary tale about basically falling for the lies of the government and those in power and that you must fight hard for any real change and progress to occur as power is not freely given and maintaining the status quo will only render you homeless, one legged and/or a brainwashed American Zombie. (Or something along these lines. My interpretation, though the lyrics aren’t very ambiguous).
Anyhow, that line above has always resonated with me; were I to describe accurately my level of intelligence, I do think that sums it up neatly.
Another profound thing:
long ago I saw or dreamed about some Thai boxers who round house kicked bamboo trees every day or at least very often and for hours so as to make the shins harder by remodelling the tibia through micro fractures which heal and thereby somehow make these bones stronger and harder and that’s something I’ve always found weirdly inspirational and also is something I think about when I am going through hardships and challenges.
(If you’ve ever round house kicked something hard then I believe you would have felt that that shit hurts.)
Yeah I didn’t know what I was gonna write about beforehand but this turned out pretty nice.