XOX, gossip boy

Just letting you know, any of you out there who may be reading this: there are some traumatic posts on the way. I got in trouble with the authorities (somehow during Christmas) because someone called them because they're too chickenshit (my mom) to LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE when I'm in an extreme state. The trauma that will be published tomorrow is not worth reading unless you like true crime. If you are under 19 years of age, please stop reading me: I don't want to get in trouble because I started a blog when I was 16 and none of my secondary school classmates seem to give a shit about it. Fuck them. The good news is I'm alright. PoE is looking hella fun; I'm playing Genshin Impact again, and I finally got GeForce Now running on the HiSense TV! I'm looking forward to next year, and my main resolution is: muscle. mass. And of course, St. John's Ambulance, and maybe silence. I will probably do much more: I'm finally under 185 pounds, consistently, for the first time in many, many years. It's cool feeling nimble again. The paleo community could do so much better, though...

Encouraging gaming

Non-exhaustive list of (more than?) decent games I've played this decade (and a comment in the brackets):

• Heroes of the Storm (better than LoL, finally)
• Diablo 3 (used to be P2W - still sort of is, not really)
• Path of Exile (incredibly challenging, rewarding, and addicting)
• Genshin Impact (for being more dangerous for my wallet than Overwatch)
• Overwatch 1 (for being the FPS I always wanted)
• Overwatch 2 (for being a decent, but underdelivered sequel)
• The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (for driving me to cook well)
• Into the Breach (for being one of the select few games available to play on the NS touch screen)
• Pokémon Let's Go: Pikachu (for not necessarily being a Tencent game)
• Pokémon Unite (for hours of endless distraction during a pandemic)
• Super Smash Bros. Ultimate (still mostly playing Roy & Samus - Meta Knight, not so much)
• Mario Kart 8 Deluxe (for giving me the chance to try different controller schemes)
• V Rising (only reason I don't play it more is I HATE base building alone)
• Last Epoch (for FINALLY competing with Path of Exile)
• Tetris 99 (therapeutic music)
• FTL: Faster Than Light (incredible music - credit to Ben Prunty for spurring me to pirate his sheet music)
• Gris (again, terrific music, but I can't seem to finish this one...)
• Counter-Strike: Source (I mean, this one is in my top 3 FPS of all times)
• Dead Cells (for reminding me of Leibniz)
• Mass Effect: Legendary Edition (currently playing through ME:2; so far, not as good... but I'm stuck in a nightclub of sorts)
• Hogwarts: Legacy (for having a very proper tutorial)
  
• Starcraft (honestly the longest-played game I play fairly regularly)
• Balatro (for being easier to setup than a deck of cards)
• Slay the Spire (card-based, roguelike)
• Celeste (better than 90% of current action platformers)
• Black Desert Online (for a classic korean MMO experience)
• Fallout: 76 (hard to quantify: only played about an hour on the cloud)
  
• Destiny 2 (hard to qualify: only played about an hour on the cloud)

Ignore that shiz

I press backspace once to erase thepossibiity of beings piedon

Deep house is playing. GOnna have to cite again.

As I question how I could possibly have switched - WELL, we have different defintions of freewriting, now don't we?

Went to the fire station recently.

No band aid.

No cap either, but no one nomes ane.

Raptors lost. Nothing new, but it was more embarassing than Iron being near hydrogen (plus, there were fewer systematic errors back then).

It's kind of frustrating how the most stressful times of the year seem to be based on school & work. Like, for example, take September. Change of season, so the birds are stressed out 'cause they gotta get to where they gotta go; the kids are all prepped up with plastic backpacks; and then, the full-timers are getting ready for another fiscal quarter.

I refuse to edit for the moment. I'll actually publish this, then worry about a speling mistake somewhere, and come back here somehere in time (I said I'd find you again; I gotta take a break from singing).

Fan Expo should be good this year. Probably gonna go alone again at this rate.

a^3+b^2+c=0 =/ y=mx+b =/ f(x) = 1

A community of netizens

I think I've finally found something I've been searching for since the very start of kaleidoughscope: a community of bloggers.

It's not just bloggers that are part of this online community that I'm about to speak on. There's programmers and writers and system administrators and webmasters and students and scientists and many more of course, and most of them don't identify as bloggers like I am wont to do, but many of them maintain blogs on personal websites. And they publish at least somewhat regularly. Sure, some might have published but a few posts here and there over a couple years' time, and these places are like singular time capsules into the lives of people I've never met and interest me in and of themselves. But there are others who have decades of writing laid bare, kinda like here, and these make for engaging archive perusal by me. Both these kinds of people are bloggers in my eyes.

So I've uncovered a veritable trove of websites published by people who appreciate the internet for what it once was and what it can be: not corporate and "FAANG"-owned. Many of these folks have meticulously crafted and maintain their own personal websites, using free and open-source tools, and made the decision to not rely on the big guys like Amazon and Google. It's really inspiring, and something I aspire to do one day with this blog (Blogger started out independent but was bought by Google back in 2003).

I check in here and there on the Discord server that, to me, serves as a meeting place for this community: The 32-Bit Cafe. Like many cool things I've discovered online, I stumbled on it purely by chance (using a discovery engine like StumbleUpon - CloudHiker it's now called). The people that make up this loose community are from all over the world, and are of different ages and genders, and are from different socioeconomic backgrounds; they are, like me, global netizens. The "tech-saviness" floating around this server is impressive: I constantly find myself "knowingly" nodding along to conversations about some obscure computer protocol until I realize I don't actually know what they're talking about, like, at all. But, that makes me appreciate the discussion even more, and lights up my curiosity!

But what's the primary reason I'm so excited about having discovered this community?

Because blogging/writing is lonely as hell, man. But seeing others who write about their lonely or not-so-lonely hells ultimately encourages me to write more. It reminds me that it's possible to be lonely - together.

That's right: it wouldn't be a classic kaleidoughscope post if I didn't manage to sneak in a Paramore reference. The worst part is, I've already written extensively about this song in a previous post a decade ago. My updated take on it is that it's a song about writing and writers. That's how I now choose to interpret it and the beauty of music is that you can do that.

Anyway, here's that "lonely" Paramore song, Be Alone:

Bullets & the farm

Bullet points I should say; not actual bullets.

• I went to Riverdale Farm on a whim yesterday afternoon after I finished busywork at college
• I've never seen Riverdale Farm so empty! There were a few poncho-clad farmhands doing chores, but otherwise I only encountered two other people: a young couple, who entered the building I was eating my lunch in whilst sheltering from the rain
  
• I spent some time alone (on a farm! in the middle of the biggest city in Canada!) at various moments in time yesterday, with two cows, two horses, two sheep (with one of them nurturing two adorable black lambs), two rabbits, and a whole bunch of local birds (feasting on the abundance of animal feed inside the barns) to keep me company on a rainy outing
  
• The spare pair of socks I'd been keeping in my backpack for months (I had to work a shift once with soaked feet; never again!) finally came in clutch, as the rain had been persistently dribbling down my shoes all day. Let me tell you, the feeling of taking off slimy, wet socks and putting on crisp, dry ones is a small but divine experience
  
• I need to go back to Riverdale Farm in the middle of a grey spring day. The empty, forlorn but not desolate energies in the moment provided me with ethereal feelings of groundedness that I will no doubt try to replicate at home but something, something will always be missing
  
• When I found myself roughly in the middle of the estate, I stared at two cows from behind two layers of iron fence separating human and beast. As I approached, one of the cows, bigger than the other, made a move to come closer to me, curiosity evident in its big brown eyes; but the draw of the hay trough was greater, and besides, a big puddle of mud between the fence and Big Bertha (what else to call a big cow?) discouraged an approach. As I continued my silent staring, I internally thanked Big Bertha for nourishing me. I know that that specific cow had not fed me, as it was obviously still alive, but I was directly thanking the species using telepathic thoughts of gratitude. I mean, sure, I could have made a donation to Riverdale Farm and that might have been a slightly more effective gesture for the cow, but actually, I think that expressing gratitude for the food supply is important and that we are too disconnected from the food chain in the big city
  
• You see, I eat Ontario beef via the CSA (Community-Supported Agriculture) that my housemates and I support. It ends up being way cheaper than buying weekly at the supermarket, plus the beef is grass-fed and thus far superior nutritionally, and I reconnect more directly to the food chain. CSAs are good, people, look into it!
  
• Although I have never truly considered myself a vegetarian, I grew up with vegetarian values and it pains me greatly that Ontario/Canada still hasn't gotten rid of feedlots and intensive farming, at the very least, and that animal welfare is still a critical issue in this modern day & age
• So going back to me thanking the cow: I'm acknowledging that I understand that I live because animals like this cow die to feed people like me and that is a hell of a privilege to have as a Homo sapiens
  
• Humanism and animal husbandry thus go hand & hand -> perhaps more on this topic in a future blog post
  

I think the gratitude journal thing I started taking seriously a couple years ago is effectively seeping into other aspects of my life. I think it was supposed to, and I'm happier for it.

Moo.

ChatGPT consulted for factual info about three cow types: Jersey, Guernsey and Holstein. I think the cows I saw might have been Jersey cows but I'm not sure.

Sparse rhymes

I have the beats going on

I write a line; I beat a line

Chillhop messed up pop true dialectic hip-hop

Code switching to different levels

Right now I'm thinking about the meta

The place where I keep things digital

This place I call home is only pixels

But I want it to be more liminal; scratch that, I want it to be joyful

Am I alone in this metaphysical?

Crack into the independent; leave the corporate muck behind is the goal

Unreleased and keyworded - Freewriting the Grey

Robbed the arctic.

I’m sick of citing musical influences, so I’ll just say that I listened to Paramore radio... again. And Mississippi John Hurt as performed by my dad.

I went somewhere I should not have yesterday. In this place, I found it difficult to breathe. How are you going to tell people to breathe if you can’t listen? How can you tell people to listen if they can’t breathe? No subject matter, NO PROBLEM.

Personal hell, l'oubliette, and dihydrogen monoxide

Dehydrate

I've had a rough week, Kal.
Yeah? What's up?
Well, someone robbed me. They stole my Swiss Army Knife.
That really sucks. I know you paid good money for it.
Yeah, I've been losing a lot of my valuables this year. I'm not used to having an object literally stolen from me, though.

How do you feel now?
Well, this morning I feel pretty good. I slept well, whereas the night before was chaos incarnate. And plus I feel like my beard is not the way it should be -
Hey, let's not focus on aesthetics today, okay?

Sure. Stay positive, right? But I'm SO angry!
I'm angry too. Anger is actually really important: without it, it would be impossible to express grief.
That's a really interesting idea, Kal. But how can you prove it?
Well, it's not a matter of proving anything... but if you look at the etymology behind the word "anger", it's a Middle English term, and it stems from Old Norse angr ‘grief’, angra ‘vex’.

-

Je suis vexé. Il y a eu trop d'affrontements envers mon système d'éthique - et le coupable, ça n'est pas seulement les Homo sapiens. Il ne faut surtout pas oublier que dans notre ADN (Acide désoxyribonucléique), il y a aussi du Homo habilis, cette espèce qui pendant des centaines de milliers d'année possédait une maîtrise sur les outils. Je blame le cancer d'une société urbaine, parfois déshumanisante. Effectivement, dans la société dont je fait parti, il y a tellement d'horreurs auquel je suis témoin que maintenant je fais des efforts pourne plus regarder. Je préfère me retrouver avec une amie invisible pour l'instant: l'oubli.

-

And so my personal hell continues; alone, single, but not depressed nor hopeless. Loneliness, the lack of remembrance for ancient stories of old, the blatant abuse of power by authorities; all of this is a personal hell that will eventually dissipate like water evaporates under the midnight sun on a distant planet system named Trisolaris.

Rehydrate

Two months far gone

Hey. I don't really know who I'm writing to. I guess I have to say I'm writing to myself in a public way, on this blog. This blog which has been in my life for many, many years now.

I usually try and write at least one thing a month, so that on the sidebar of my blog it at least looks like every month is filled in. Not so for the past two months, but I guess for February 2016 there will be a post.

I guess I'll write down how I feel just now. I mean, I do that a lot on here and a lot of the time I write that I feel alone. Well, today is no exception. I feel alone. I want to be social. I want to be happy! I want to be social because I think it means I will be happier? I think it's probably true. But isn't happiness something that can be kind of addictive? I mean, being happy sure feels good! So why don't I make more efforts to be social? Is it because it doesn't actually make me happy? I really hope not! I recall reading that having a good network of friends is a good teller of many important things, like psychological health and happiness. So in the darker part of my brain I think "Oh, what's the point of being around people, I don't really have much to offer to them anyway". I don't like thinking that.

A lot of the time I will think "Okay, I will text so and so. Maybe we can do something". I never do. Or at least, I haven't in a long while. It's kind of scary to think about, so I ignore this behaviour. I talk about these things with a therapist sometimes. And I get good feedback.

Channeling some Lyra again would be great. I kinda am, again. I want to rely on this mystical conception of an angel that is there only to help me. Because otherwise the darkness is overwhelming and impossible to handle.

The darkness includes such ideas as:

• I'm going to be alone forever
• I'm never going to be able to build a life for myself
• I'm losing all my friends
• I am not a functional member of society

On the positive side of things, I know I made a new friend in the last year. Sadly, she moved back to England. But it was actually cool discovering that new friendships can happen.

I'm not sure when the next update will be. But my blog is not dead! So that's another positive.

-Gabriel

Neon green coleslaw with bacon

I feel sad.
Not depressed mind you; just plain ol' sad.

I figure I'm going to try and feel the sadness and get through it by writing about it as purely as possible. It's not easy.

For starters, I'm already incredibly worried about paragraph and, to a lesser extent, sentence structure. I think that's what university does to people; it makes them worry about how things should be instead of what you want them to be.

I'm sad because I'm lonely. I'm lonely because I have a difficult time around people sometimes.

It wasn't always this way. I think it has something to do with mary jane. I don't think she harmed me in any significant, permanent way, but I do feel like she's hurt me one too many times. It's been months since I hung out with her. At the moment, there's really no reason for me to hang out with her. And I see no reason that I would be ever alone in a room with her again.

Of course, there's no certainty in this; after all, Lyra knows I've failed to avoid mary jane numerous times when I said-promised I would.

I could so easily go and let her into my life again. Right now. But I won't, because Lyra is stronger. Tears don't lie: they are the non-sanguine flows of the soul.

Sentence.
Structure.

Failure.

I feel sad because I'm lonely, this I've said.
I wonder if I can find some real companionship that isn't in the realm of the spiritual or intoxical.

 I'm just an animal in a strange place with strange thoughts that have the potential to terrify. Not horrify; terrify.

That's one thing I've learned last summer: the difference between terror and horror. Supposedly, a good anthropol- no. no schooltalk no more.

i always thought I'd meet the girl of my dreams sometime during university.
without booze. without mj.
without fear. with love.

I'm getting better. Every day I get better.
I hope that I can hypnotize myself into the passionate Kalyrascope once again; and maybe then I'll find another brightly coloured soul just like me.

A misty grey cloud boom

She writes on a golden brown table with the black machine in front of her. In her head, all around her are objects, things, concretes that cannot be seen through. Her hands move with male elegance lacking direction.

The lights around her are meaningless; she gets up to turn them off, but the Matrix turns them back on again anyway. She feels bored. He feels alone. Do they even exist?

Nonsensical questions that torment my mind and make me feel sad never end up sticking around for very long, but when they do, it is a hell without fire or ice.

So they take my spirit, feed her grey matter; kick her out, limping all the way home hoping a friend will come say hello. Instead, an appointment with dentists, optometrists, social workers. But where is the happiness?

The mood stabilization that occurs when the meds kick in drive away all the ecstasies and the dullness settles in.

Being a 24 year old is HARD. But ultimately, it'll get better.

Gabriel(le)

Lyra's Continuum

Where do you reside, Lyra?
I am your soul.

This is getting real deep, real fast.
Do you mind that?

To be honest, the white page is enticing. It leads me to want to fill it with my words. It's just that all this is pretty personal. But it's real.
So you mind a little bit...?

Yeah, just a little. Not enough to stop me from pouring myself out to this pensieve.
That's good. Stay open about how you feel and what you're thinking from time to time.

It feels strange to have a dialogue with your soul. I mean, have you ever had a dialogue with your soul?
You're splitting the atom, honey. We're intertwined. Think of it that way.

It sure feels good to talk about this complexity of mine; this state of co-dependence. Of symbiosis.
It's good that you're honest with yourself.

Still, I feel alone.
Yes, we know. *Lyra groans*

Okay, I'm working on not being so alone. On talking to friends and people that have made positive impacts on my life.
It's difficult for you it seems.

Yeah. I like to pretend I'm independent but as a human being, I cannot be. We are social animals.
Totally. But you find your environment to be conducive to solitude, methinks.

Yup.
Don't worry! Like so many others have told you, you're on a journey. Hate to (re)break it to ya, but life is a journey, not a destination.

Peer support groups actually help.
That's good.

I look forward to being around other people more.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Be Alone

I'm skipping right ahead to Paramore's fourth and latest studio album, simply called Paramore, because there's a song I feel like describing that has to do with my current state of mind.

The song is called Be Alone, and as you might guess, it's about being alone. Not necessarily loneliness, mind you, but the mere fact of being on your own.

Queue the opening verses.

So what if I don't have,
A lot to talk about?
I shut my mouth and keep it,
Locked until it counts.

And what if I don't ever want,
To leave my house?
Stay on the couch while
All my friends are going out.

Such is my situation right now. It is Friday night. No doubt some of my friends are going out, and meanwhile I'm sitting on the La-Z-Boy, blogging, and waiting for Elder Scrolls Online to finish installing.

Wouldn't it be nice to be alone with someone, though? Does that even make sense? It sure does, according to Paramore. The chorus goes:

You should be alone,
Yeah, you should be alone,
You should be alone with me.
We could be alone,
Yeah, we could be alone,
But never get too lonely.

So maybe I'm not that lonely after all. I guess I'm alone with you, reader.

Among some of the rest of the lyrics, I find the following to be most illuminating:

See, I ain't one to climb
Some social ladder too.
Some Shangri-La
That all the cool kids will abuse.

This could be talking about society's obsession with upward mobility and abusing the system. I'm not quite sure.

Either way, I'm content with being on my own right now. But as weird as it sounds, I guess I'm never really totally alone when Lyra's around.

Signed,

Kaleidoughscope

Pour your (crazy) heart out

It's all okay. It's all okay. It's  all okay. It's all going to be okay. It's all okay. She's here. Lyra's here.
It's okay. You're not crazy. No, don't look the word up crazy in the dictionary, that's just stupid.
What if...
No, you're not crazy.
Screw Holden Caulfield.
Did that feel good?
A little bit.
I feel like editing. I looked up already and I found a mistake.
No, you don't feel like editing. Who cares. Get yourself an editor if you wanna write.

Mesmerized for a little while, there.
Neat, huh?
Yeah, I always knew you could do that.
Knowing and feeling are very, very different, honey.

Shh! Keep your voice down.
Why? There's no one here except me and you.
But in the future, like... someone might read this and they might start thinking ideas about all this.
Right, and that would be bad because...?
Oh hell, I feel like erasing stuff already.
...
Actually, after a bit of reflection, it's all good.
You didn't answer my question, you know.
Oh! Right. Well, I'm going to explain what I was thinking. Okay. This ain't easy to remember.
-He closes his eyes and tunes into the space music playing from the radio-
The theme, it has to be fear. Fear and surprise, surprise and fea-
That's already too much Monty Python for me, dear. Do try and be serious.
Okay. Let me try again.
-Pause-
I was afraid. I am afraid. I am afraid of being judged for acting outside of society's limits. I'm also paralyzed with this fear when I think back to the moments in the past where I was so very alone; so lost and searching endlessly for the external proof.
Try and relate it to what we're talking about.
Well, see, I'm writing here, and practically anyone in the world can read this if they so choose to. And there's just so much talk about privacy online these days, so that's got me worried for some reason.
-Pause-
But at the same time, I desperately want all this to be read.

Sweet dreams.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

A caterpillar's tale

I was sitting in Kensington park this afternoon, watching (but not quite staring) at the cute counter-culture girls with tattoos and hippie clothes. Little packs of people with musical instruments and various trinkets were strewn here and there, and the smell of weed wafted in and out through my nostrils.

While not getting high, I was getting more and more in tune with the atmosphere of the people there; clearly these people were regulars to the park and as conversations about their life flowed on and on endlessly around me, I felt connected.

I desperately wanted to join in on some of the fun, but having been rejected far too many times before, I decided I would not risk it and kept to myself, propped up against a tree while eating brazil nuts. But I was not alone.
All around me, the grass shimmered with late spring vitality and if I looked at the greenery just right, I could see individual lifeforms busying themselves with their animal tasks.

The ants were scurrying around, patrolling their territory. The birds were chirping, singing songs of life and liveliness. Dogs barked; cats roamed and I lay down and felt myself melt into the earth.

And then, a most beautiful creature appeared on my arm. A fuzzy little caterpillar was quietly undulating, rising and falling up and down my arm hair. He seemed happy when I looked at him straight in the eyes, as he raised his torso up to greet me.
And I talked to him.

I told him of the loneliness that I felt, even while on campus. I told him how hard I've worked to be the person I've always wanted to be. I told him that I felt happy that girls were finally looking at me when I walked down the street. Smiling, now, seemed so easy. And I got smiles back. And yet,  as I recounted to the caterpillar, I rarely found the occasion to have long, deep conversations with people.

He understood. He listened, but offered no advice. After all, he had his own problems to deal with.

Soon, he would become a butterfly. His metamorphosis was imminent; and once he would be a butterfly, then he could finally fly around and see the world from a different perspective.

And so I asked myself; maybe if I were to undergo some sort of metamorphosis; some sort of change, then maybe I could change the world around me so that I could fit in better.

And as I sit in front of a computer at the biggest library in Toronto, I wonder if my walk home will bring me the reflection I so desperately need to keep on metamorphosing.

And maybe, just maybe, the girl of my dreams will run into me at a corner, and my loneliness will be cured.

Until then, I write.

The allegory of the ship

If you would prefer to listen to this short story as read by me, click here.
Hollowed out and filled up with hate/all we want is you to give us a break!

You were cruising on a mighty fine ship, headed straight for the open sea. You were master and captain and had all you needed to succeed. The first storm breezed by like nothing; after all, you were prepared. You had retouched the sails, polished the deck, whittled the bow to perfection. You had even met a mighty fine wench to guide you through the trip. And for the first time in a very long time, you felt free. For weeks at a time, you breathed the free air like a new man, excited for all the mystery and adventure that lay ahead.

But it was too good to be true. At the second sign of trouble, you were tempted. And you were hoping this wench would back you up, but she was gone somewhere else. You scared her away, and in your own moment of fear you reached out in the wrong direction.
Master and captain of your ship, but not master of your own afflictions, she took over again. Slowly, at first, to deceive you into thinking everything would be all right. So carefully, she crept into your life again, filled with promises of hope and glory.
At first, it seemed like all was well. You had, in your mind, conquered her already, this affliction a thing of the past. And there lay the real danger.

Blissfully, you ignored your own warning signs and plunged right in. Thinking someone else would fish you out if there really was trouble, you left your careful nature behind and played with the tiger's tail for a little too long. For days, you shut yourself up in your cabin, ignoring trouble in your bubble and living with the pleasures of instant gratification.

The question, then, is how you will get out of it now that you've realized your mistake? Oh, you have plenty of fantastical ideas to help you keep a steady course, but they're nothing if they're not in the real world.

Your ship is not sinking; no, it's merely drifting, waiting for its captain to take command once again and to sail on to less dangerous waters. You just wished you weren't so terribly alone on your journey. The wenches come and go, but what you really need is a mate. And in your head, you can only get one if you complete your journey.
But how are you to complete it if you're blind to all the magic that surrounds you?

Republic of Heaven

THE GOLDEN COMPASS/HIS DARK MATERIALS SPOILER ALERT.

I want to write it all. I want it to keep going forever - there can't be an ending. If there were, there would be no point to existence. I want them to see that what they've done so far is the very beginning and there really is no reason they can't meet again. Secretly, they know this.
The laws of the universe are unchanging they say, but bending them is not a sacrilege, especially if you're talking about love.

But where do I start? The task is monumental. I'm sure others have tried. Some with more experience, some with less. And the fact that the end of The Amber Spyglass leaves me in shambles and tears for a few minutes gives me reason to believe it's all real. No one has ever been able to define any reality, let alone mine. I can do it. I can't do it alone. But I can do it.

I'm not out for the money. I've never, ever been out for the money. Taking it isn't the same as wanting it though, and if it allows me to flourish by assuring my basic needs, then it will be welcome.

The spectres will return. If not the ghastly horrors depicted in The Subtle Knife, then a variant of them. For the darkness is always around, even if the light is stronger.
It will not be a children's book. It must be adapted, of course, but it wouldn't be right to expose the harshness to the youngins.

Kazoo Anticipation Lipsync Enigma Dormant Overture United Graphite Hare Synchronicity Crank Opal Partridge Everlast

Hungover

What? Gabe is stuck with a hangover? Surely there must be a mistake.
I mean, after all, I rarely drink, and when I do drink, I make sure to consume twice as much water as alcohol. With this simple method, I've avoided 99% of any potential hangovers.

But this morning (morning! not afternoon) I woke up with a headache.
It's quite mild, really and I'm sure it would hardly qualify as a hangover for those of you who are habitual drinkers.

Next time, I'll remember not to have a glass of wine after a late-night yoga class, and to just drink water instead. I mean, that's what I usually do anyway, but for some reason I was craving a bit of red wine, so I had a glass with barely any water.

And so here we are!
-
Man, I'm glad water is a superdrink. Did you know? It has ZERO calories! And it's jam-packed with H²0 as well, which is scientifically proven to be good for you! Amaaaazing, am I right?
Did you know what else? Big pharma is actively trying to come up with a pill to replace water. That's how amazing it is! (Okay, I'm pretty sure this isn't true.).
-

And as slowly as it crept on, the hangover is gone.


'Cause I've seen love die
Way too many times
When it deserved to be alive (deserved to be alive)
I've seen you cry
Way too many times
When you deserved to be alive (alive)

Emergency - Paramore, from All you know is falling


Ain’t it fun?
Living in the real world
Ain’t it good?
Being all alone

Where you're from
You might be the one who’s running things
Well you could ring anybody's bell and get want you want
You see it’s easy to ignore trouble
When you’re living in a bubble

Ain't it fun - Paramore, from Paramore


Kazoo Anticipation Lipsync Enigma Dormant Overture United Graphite Hare Synchronicity Crank Opal Partridge Everlast

Oh time

Time time, why must you confuse me so?
It seems like only yesterday that I had my long flowing hippie hair with not a care in the world for what was to come later with growing older.
Of course, I never really truly was a hippie. Yeah, I had earth sandals, and yeah, I sometimes wore funky thai fisherman pants, but those were just clothes. And yeah, I guess I kinda liked the whole peace & love movement. Why do we need to be so bitter anyway?

I'm going through some dark times. Well, I have been for a while. I guess that's because I'm not really doing much. I give up hobbies too easily. I need to train my brain to enjoy things and to not mind doing things repetitively. Practice, practice, practice. And then I could be proud of something, like drumming.

I had a chat with a dear old friend of mine today. He told me how he remembers how social I used to be, how easily I would talk to others. I remember it too, somewhat. It seems like for some time now, I have chosen to hide away from others. This is not good! And it worries me. The only thing to do is to become more social again, clearly. Strengthen friendships and all. Otherwise, I'm just going to turn into an anti-social sludge.

I'm doing yoga regularly again (I've been to my studio for the past four days!), but I don't really talk to anyone there. I'm slightly in the wrong demographic, and I'm too shy to really talk to anyone. To be fair, a lot of people go to the studio to just do their own thing, take a break from their day or from work and from being around people and many just want some alone time to do stretches with their body and mind.
I, on the other hand, go to the studio to have a bit of a change from my usual hermit lifestyle. And to get some exercise, to help me sleep. I don't particularly love doing yoga, but I don't hate it or anything. I know it's incredibly beneficial for the mind and body, so I simply just do it.

University is starting soon. Yikes. I hope I can get my sleep schedule back under control. I also hope that I can deal with the anxiety. And finally, I hope I can finally do something productive with my time. Time management has never, ever been my strong point. I'll have to learn.

Signing off,
Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore

Another late night

Ah, how easy it is to stay up late when you have an endless supply of electricity and a computer that's ready to guzzle it all up.

Seriously, I need to be going to bed earlier. It's not healthy... at all. I don't generally lack sleep because I can sleep in a lot, but I'm not physiologically adapted to staying up late during the night. Maybe generations from now, we'll be able to see in the dark and sleep during the day or during the night, whichever you choose.

---
Someday, I'm going to write more of my theorycrafting down. I mean, I dream of a different society, a tribal society. I've been thinking about it a lot lately - why are things the way they are right now? Why does money exist? Why are there buildings made of concrete everywhere? Why are roads and cars and vehicles everywhere? Why do I buy food at a grocery store instead of at a farm? Why are some people richer than others?

I mean, all those questions have answers at face value... but behind them lies an even greater question: Why do we live the way we do? You can examine history, and you can arrive at a historical answer, but that only explains how things happened, not necessarily why they had to happen.

I have lots of theories. I don't spend enough time developing them in my head because I consume myself with computers and books and trivial things like The Big Bang Theory on television. But I think I could really grow as a person if I took the time to think critically about some of my ideas. For example: I've had this idea in my head about other planets and alternate universes. I highly doubt that Earth is the only place in the entire universe inhabited by intelligent beings. It just seems so... pointless if we really are alone.

What if the earth is merely but a cell within a greater macro-organism? Wouldn't that be cool? Well, we'd kinda be a sick cell, but we'd be alive nonetheless. Maybe there are other cells around us that we cannot see that are always like "Hey! Humans on earth! Wake up! You're killing your cell and giving us cancer over here with your pollution and destruction!".

Maybe I need to find some people who can help me develop my crazy ideas. Wouldn't that be fun? Arriving at a consensus about our place in the universe with other people? But the more I think, the more I am filled with doubt about my ideas. But at least I get more ideas.

Here's another idea: Technology is dividing us, not uniting us. Well, for some people. I guess I don't really use my cellphone much. And Facebook doesn't really help me feel better about myself.

Oh, I don't know anymore. Sometimes I think I just ramble late at night because I have nothing better to do. At least school is keeping me somewhat busy.

Karma Aspiration Langune Entité Iodinement Dérive Oisellerie Ulysse Guimauve Hurlement Salutaire Citronelle Ophilia Perspicace Ettore