week 37 of 2024
itβs cold!
Saving patterns to files on your computer has finally been added to bento, and i started writing a little about bento too. It works offline now, too. yay, bento is now local-first software.
Here is some music to listen. Sure, itβs crunchy. The end is very nice.
Listening to that Lady Gaga song with Bruno Mars in it, amd Iβm not sure if thereβs anyone Iβd want to be next to when the world was ending. A great thing to start doing in 2025 is tell people to βsay cheese!β when you take a photo. The opening line of every chapter of my autobiography will be βI had a perfect life, but I wanted moreβ. And then you feel them letting go from miles away. They say that we donβt know why the volcanos that spat diamonds turned themselves off a million years ago, I read about it in a magazine. A few weeks ago I stayed at a hotel where the tv remote had a TikTok button. That was the day I stepped in dog shit, and I washed my boots in the bathroom sink. How about Conwayβs game of life except instead of dying single cells go off in search of community.
The person who unmasked _why the lucky stiff was a bastard.
Iβm going to Los Angeles next month.
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There arenβt three minutes worth of lines to write here about my week. Itβs lots of little small things and I havenβt been taking notes. And itβs harder to write about nothing sober. Iβm reading The Art of Doing Science and Engineering and writing a lot of little experiments. Today Iβm going to try to play a video game. But first, eggs.
Itβs been so long since Iβve been in the United States. A decade since Iβve been in California, where infinite westward expansion finally banged into the reality of the Pacific and the only remaining territories were out to space and inside our minds and souls and bodies.