beginnings and endings. (God only knows how many blog posts have this name as a subject. Jeez.)
I feel a veil of slight melancholy about me when I do personal writing these days. It's as though I'm mourning something, almost. I can't quite figure it out.
However, there's gotta be merit squirreled away in me somewhere right now. Hmm - where to take this post..
Ah.
Two of my housemates got engaged tonight. It's been awhile in coming, but it was still a surprise and an overall success. I'm truly happy for them, but still personally kinda (rather very) disaffected right now.
So right now I'm sitting in my chair, typing this, and occasionally knocking back some nearby water. I drank waaaay too much coffee tonight. I think I just have to drop it altogether again, honestly.
Anyway.
I should change how this journal works. Take it in line with the classic postmodern conceit: language manipulates us just as we manipulate it.
This thing is too damn worthlessly introspective. I present myself to you, here, as a black box of sorts. (In a Turing Machine sort of sense, that is.) I run through ideas and conversations during the day, they affect (or, heh, disaffect) me, and I just kinda...well...do this. I haven't really done much with transparency...you know?
I'll try two things:
1) to bring in more narrative elements. (vid. - have this be less of a yawnfest.)
2) say something remotely interesting, or just privatize the entry so I don't just waste your time and bandwidth.
However, there's gotta be merit squirreled away in me somewhere right now. Hmm - where to take this post..
Ah.
Two of my housemates got engaged tonight. It's been awhile in coming, but it was still a surprise and an overall success. I'm truly happy for them, but still personally kinda (rather very) disaffected right now.
So right now I'm sitting in my chair, typing this, and occasionally knocking back some nearby water. I drank waaaay too much coffee tonight. I think I just have to drop it altogether again, honestly.
Anyway.
I should change how this journal works. Take it in line with the classic postmodern conceit: language manipulates us just as we manipulate it.
This thing is too damn worthlessly introspective. I present myself to you, here, as a black box of sorts. (In a Turing Machine sort of sense, that is.) I run through ideas and conversations during the day, they affect (or, heh, disaffect) me, and I just kinda...well...do this. I haven't really done much with transparency...you know?
I'll try two things:
1) to bring in more narrative elements. (vid. - have this be less of a yawnfest.)
2) say something remotely interesting, or just privatize the entry so I don't just waste your time and bandwidth.