Jesus, who pushed the self-destruct button?

Life is sad. 🙁

I’m too old for all this shit, or at least I should be. “Almost thirty,” but it’s hard for me to grok what that amounts to, I can’t even keep the emptiness out. I feel like I’m twelve.

Blah.

I need my conscience to keep watch over me
To protect me from myself
So I can wear honesty like a crown on my head
When I walk into the promised land…

The neocons think that we left-wingers a) hate America, b) think that terrorism might be justified, c) don’t believe that American deaths are worse than non-American deaths. Well… speaking as a left-winger… true, true, true. So what’s the point?

All kinds of sun, but I haven’t done my laundry, I don’t wanna do my work either, I’m thinking about the last time I was at a McMenamin’s having a beer-O and about the last time I was in downtown SLC buying veggie sushi-O and wondering about the freedom of automotive life-O and about the pollution that I always felt guilty for creating-O.

Confusing shit, and I can’t work it out, I’ll leave that to ppl more beautiful than I, like, everyone is more beautiful than I, like, I wish I was more beautiful than I, like, admiration is so everywhere in me. “As for me, myself, personally…” (i.e. a Cheshire moment), I don’t know, I just don’t know, I’m gonna freak, I’m gonna run and not stop running and tear my clothes off and run and not stop running and leave my feetprints on the beach and keep running and burn shit and keep running and drive and run and drive and run and I won’t stop I just won’t stop there’s too much in the balance for me to stop I don’t wanna see any of it I don’t wanna face the MBH boys I don’t wanna see the ST office ever again I don’t I don’t I don’t brown sand beach Danville Hercules reach I am the visitor and I want to stay in your bed please I haven’t got the courage to face the crossings in the central business district ever again just lemme feed the meter once more I’ll be back and I’ll never leave again never ever I promise I promise I promise I promise…

—

To believe is to know you believe, and to know you believe is not to believe.

So today my IQ is higher than it has been. I opened up sr.c in 2.6.5 and hacked up kludge R/W for USB2 DVD-RAMs just like that in about twenty seconds, no idea why I couldn’t grok it before. So I was able to archive all the recent photos, finally.

Then I recoded my old leapdragon.net blog scripts into a new incarnation that uses a simple, book-like (i.e. plain text) entry storage format instead of a DB, is about 1000% faster, more fault-tolerant, and uses fewer than 100 lines of bash code — about a seventh the size of the previous incarnation — all while remaining completely automated.

If I had Tourette’s Syndrome like my cousin, I would have screamed out something obscene and broken somebody instead of inserting this sentence here. I wonder if he’s out of jail yet…

I have to download Core 2 and begin to analyze it for changes. I also have to get my shit written up for workshop… I was supposed to supply most of it last week (Wednesday, Friday), but I was preparing for the Scav Hunt stuff and just postponed it. Gonna fuck me grades overrr.

Looking at the prints I had made yesterday, I realize that the Sigma 28mm f/1.8 that I have used so much really has horrible chromatic aberration and needs to be replaced, mebbe with a Canon 28mm f/2.8. Why did I never notice this before? Oh well, live and learn and shit.

I don’t know if I’ll use the new code and put leapdragon.net back to work or not. I began to think about recreating the older shit when I was reading the 2000 stuff last night and realizing that it was significantly more interesting (and less long-winded) than anything I’ve posted recently. Maybe I’ll rebuild the templates for this blog using the CSS stuff I cooked up this morning when I should have been working.

Ramble ramble, grunt, grunt.

So now when people ask where I’m from, I won’t have an answer. In July I won’t live in SLC, I won’t live in Chicago, I won’t live in San Fran, I won’t live anywhere. There will be no answer. When they ask whether I have a job, I’ll avoid explaining by simply telling them that I did once but I went on a rampage and killed all of my underlings with a stolen AK-47 and I was on death row for a while but then I went to the halfway house because they were running out of space for the kids who got caught up for carrying. Then they won’t ask anything stupid of me anymore because they’ll know I’m confused and dangerous.

I have to get to fscking work, I suppose. A couple of friends called last night, but I didn’t wanna see ’em. It was a good thing because I ended up hanging with my GF instead. Not much time left.

Two weekends.

🙁

I’m fscking lonely already.