The snow lay heavy on the roof. The car looks like a misshapen igloo, and yet the ice around my heart has melted.
Once when I was young I hit the back of my head on the asphalt and was sent to the E.R. I only remember that on the way to the hospital, they put a thermometer up my asshole, and that it felt vaguely embarrassing. Then I got sick with a fever and hallucinated, but I turned out fine.
At least OK.
I did that on purpose, that with the head. Or rather we were waiting for the bus, sitting on a type of wooden guardrail, and the girls from my class, we were about nine or ten years old, started singing and I thought that they were embarrassing and wanted to disappear into the earth, but as that option was unavailable (how would that look?) instead I followed an impulse to slowly tip backwards, whereupon I hit the back of my head. The tipping motion was not as slow as I had envisioned it.
It’s an ironic situation that; In order to avoid an embarrassing situation, I ended up with a thermometer as previously described.
It’s in the middle of the night, but I can’t sleep.
The problem is with the head. The thoughts in there.
Normally when I can’t sleep it’s related to stress and/or maybe anxiety and/or just that I’m going through some powerful spell of inspiration and think about a bunch of really great ideas which I never write down because I’m trying to sleep and then therefore forget the next day.
Now however, wise as I am from age and experience, I know that sleep at this point is a lost cause. Instead I followed my idea downstairs to the kitchen and grilled a bagel (we do have a sandwich grill).
I have also been wanting to write about the frogs: in autumn once per year or so, when it’s dark and rainy, there are frogs all over the road by the lake. Like thousands of small frogs crossing the road. There are rational reasons for this of course, but it’s never interested me to know exactly why they move, just that they are there.
I haven’t seen the moon today, because there’s some fog in the sky which smudges everything like there’s a potato chip fingered glass table in the way up there somehow or something, but yet the light shines through, and the blanket of snow on the ground brightens everything and makes it look special.
I went to the office yesterday for I had that head scan thing, and it’s nice with the darkness from above and the brightness from the snow on the ground below reflected from the lamps on the train station and I was wearing my winter jacket and I was listening to :wumpscut: while waiting for the train to arrive.
I’d brought my kindle to see what Geralt of Rivia was up to, I really enjoy reading that, but just as it seemed like he was going to hop into the bath with Yennefer of Vengerburg, the batteries ran out and I was forced back to the “real world” for the rest of the trip, too tired to do anything except look out the window at the darkness out there.
Normally I prefer to buy books made of paper, but there’s a nifty feature with the kindle that it’s got a dictionary I bought in it and I’m learning foreign languages.
Hallo hello im in waiting room H at the hospital, on the X-Ray something rather, to scan my head in one of them machines which looks like a solarium.
I’ve watched a little too much dr. House to be chill about the thing, but I’m sure it’ll all be OK, as long as I haven’t for some reason something metallic in there, in the brain or so, in which case I’m gonna die.
So yeah I didn’t die, the machine looked like a soviet version of the one from dr. House and made silly noises like in a B sci fi movie, so it was hard for me to take it seriously but I’m anyhow still alive and that is worth celebrating!!
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 very close. 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.