Shores of Comm

I’ve been so tired, and the word’s not ‘uninspired’, But something’s deep & has expired leaving my brain feeling unwired. Every day’s its own little junk drawer with nothing but parts and sparks and breaking hearts, trinkets I’ve hoarded to fix yet by my own remissful hands remain undone. Bit by Stream and divide down the line to figure out buffering time, but there’s a playback error in this making breaking pontificating heart ‘o mine and it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine. Simply letting go into the peaceful state of flow is gone now, though. The beauty in the baud becomes the the blemish in my brain, each line compiling into the same looped whine. “How dare you think you could.” Println. Goto 0. Upchuck a breakfast of bile and blueberries and belief. “How dare you.”
Out my door again, steps falling like rambling, shambling down as I drag my disconnected heart along the shores of Comm

Temporal

The problem with posting “I’ll post again soon” is that $soon is never actually defined. And there’s a good chance you’re not gonna get feedback in your internal error log for some time. Possibly a year even. Especially once time itself tends to stop functioning like the neat little system clocks and smart watches you’ve wrapped yourself in.

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Downloading Air

“So, I should be able to just flip this open and plug in?” For a central location in an MIT building, the lack of obvious and in-use outlets was weird. For an event titled Cyborg Camp, it was even weirder. Going over the notes I took, I’m not terribly surprised by how they start out. Especially considering what brought me to this “unconference” in the first place.

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