It seems to me that the hours of a
writer don't coincide very well with those of a civil service
programmer.
We all need one hour a day to
disconnect. No electronic devices (yeah I get the irony). No cell
phones, computers, e-readers, tablets video game consoles. Doubly
ironic - we need to be sure to experience the world around us and
not let us have others experience it for us. Down that path lies a
static and fragile Humanity.
The fear of becoming a machine is all
too real. It's one of the reason I would find AI teachers highly
suspect.
Moving today.
So of course I feel the need to write
at 2 in the morning. Wtf energy am I running on anyway? I'm
probably pretty sleep deprived, but so awake right now.
I am on a path to certain doom. I
don't think I have enough time to change course. I've been on this
path far longer than I'd care to admit. I wish I could make a stand.
Wish I could start somewhere instead of giving up so easily. I don't
want to go gently, but I feel like all I can do is rattle the bars
that I built.
Suffer in silence as I always do. I
don't trust anyone enough to listen. I only talk to scream into
emptiness.
Maybe one day I'll tell you just how
lonely I am if I trust you enough. Some already know though.
So the best I do is rant on some blog
that no one reads. Partly because I rarely post...
Damnit where do I start? While this
post maybe somewhat productive in and of itself, it makes no progress
towards any given goal. Goals....
I dream of love, but for someone like
me, that is all I can do. If I'm not antisocial, I'm clueless. If
I'm not clueless, I try to be unattractive. No one's gonna push
through all of that baggage. I suppose I'd have to let my guard
down. Like that's ever gonna happen.
I daydream about some random interest I
would like to pursue but never do.
So unique just like everyone else.
I cannot defeat myself.
Let me be clear about that. That was
never an option. If it ever looks like it was, either I was in
extreme physical pain, or someone killed me.
Every once in awhile I start thinking
of a dead drop or whatever you call it to give access to my computer
to someone else if I'm... Gah, everyone would probably lose the
username and password...
I want change I can murder in its
sleep. Don't believe in much anymore. So much I want to believe in
but I just don't...
I suspect I would still have an issue
with depression even if my father was alive and well today.
helpmiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhell
helpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhell
helpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhell
helpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhell
helpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhell
helpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhell
helpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhellhelpmeiminhell
“The dreams in which I'm dying are
the best I've ever had” OK So maybe they also involve saving a
bunch of lives, but still.
Why must I kill Bert? If I heard
voices in my head, that's what they'd be telling me to do right now.
