The happy place

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.

I’ve been stricken by profound thoughts again.

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.

That explains a lot

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.

And I’m getting my sense of smell back

I stink

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.

Cake ran out, there were cake and pie and they were expensive with mousse and suchlike. The type of cakes which are expensive.

It’s the type of cakes one typically associate with semi fancy work functions, with focus being on looks rather than on taste. Pastel colored.

Indeed this was in a type of work function, where one or other minor event, such as having exceeded quarterly projections or the like, was celebrated.

They (co workers) took all of the cake, but I managed to get a piece of a pie-like cake, (the ones with mousse having ran out, (this signified greed I think), but I thought the pie like cake was better because my belief was that even though it didn’t appear so fancy, it was on account of superior taste the better option nonetheless).

Then when I looked at my plate; laying next to the pie/cake was a little fish (on the northern part of plate). Silvery and with the size of two medium sized coins next to each other.

There was dinner or lunch served along with the cakes (though that was not the case from the beginning), and supposedly I’d gotten some dinner or lunch by mistake when I got the cake somehow. (There were only cakes)

Like when I used the cake knife to take a piece of the pie-like cake, hidden behind at the tip of the knife was the little fish.

Supposedly.

Then the little fish disappeared, instead the cake/pie become a bigger fish, size of a regular small fish like a shampoo bottle or something, and its eyes stood out of its face like on a slug, and it started moving and was in great distress and in pain (!), it’s eyes seeking mine. It clearly looked baked (eyes were shrunken and looked smoked), but also simultaneously clearly looked raw, and it definitely looked grotesque, and one was supposed to eat that one, like a delicacy; a sad fish in pain with freaky eyes stood out like antennae. And in a miserable situation of despair.

This upset me so much that I woke up before I got the opportunity to confront them (the upper middle class co workers who arranged the thing).

Okay this Monday felt insurmountable, felt like the day was ten days long and my brain was wrung out like a dog breath smelling old wrung out rag, and the thought of retirement being so far away felt absurd, but then I became (thanks to my strong psyche) like a steam powered iron golem with a dog breath brain who just chugged along in a very impressive way and then I had lunch.

Sometimes I fantasise about working with something which is actually meaningful (to me), like a job where I could help people with meaningful stuff to which I do not count build pipelines or anything with kubernetes or worse yet terraform. Maybe a teacher helping young children find their footing and see their worth.

But I hated school. Still gives me bad vibes. 😬😬😬

I should maybe hibernate in a bunker for four years and think things through.

The rest of the week so far really did feel a lot better and now I am in a very good mood.

Life is nice and then you die

since I’m regaining my sense of smell, it seems, I’m feeling less inclined to let my little dog lick my face because her breath smells like garbage.

Furthermore, and for similar reasons, I’ve changed out of green fleece sweater which I’ve been wearing so long because it’s such a soft and nice one into another fleece sweater which is also green but not as thick.

So you see there are big changes in my life right now.

I dreamt that we were at a restaurant and they were serving dessert. It was something with whipped cream and also ice cream and I was cheating on my wife so was going to call my mistress on my mobile phone, but it had turned into a spray bottle. One of those colourful orange/purple blank pretty big like 500ml spray bottles with a proper handle with room for at least three fingers, one one would typically find in a bathroom and use to clean stuff with. I was unable to find the display, I was expecting one of the green old Nokia displays but couldn’t find it nor any sign on the surface of the bottle/phone that hinted that it might be hidden inside. (Same with the buttons).

My mistress (in the dream) didn’t show up, her dessert was melting and everybody (there were a lot of people there just to see me) had a terrible time (this is a fact in the dream, not just projections), and it was all my fault.