#NostalgicNuggs

Middle School ☾𐂂

Those following along at home will have to imagine the construction because I am not getting up.

What was that, ten minutes of writing? Most minutes this year, probably.

The birds on the screen make a scene most serene as they squable for peanuts that mean everything, when the snow’s a foot deep their ain’t no time to preen.

Caught with the dog in my lap in a nap ears aflap gently breathing with airway soft tissue clap.

When your books are decorations and construction vibrations light up synapses like holiday decorations

I wonder how much longer we shall feign concern over print, radio, and television media ownership (last I looked you could only own so much of the market) while entirely ignoring ownership of the medium replacing them, social media.

I really don’t like how well this one will age, flying without autopilot (aka norms and precedents).

I bet there is an addiction somewhere in our lineage partially responsible for our evolution. As it happens, I know there is one partially responsible for our devolution.

Life is kind of unprecedented.

If Micro.blog had private reply options, would more conversations find me? I wonder if not-uninterested people fear embarrassment inevitably follows engaging with my hard to understand expressionism because they imagine receiving my judgement or that of their post perusing peers.

When your subconscious finally groks that rebutting a snide comment is victory for the opponent, since the faith was always bad and seeing that snide land is the whole f$&king point

When you’re the one kid in kindergarten that doesn’t join the other children crying else the whole room is in tears (as I catch shit again for tapping my screen just to type this bullshit).

I wonder what I could have created yesterday… or the day before.

All history is revisionist… or are you trying to tell me there is anyone anywhere that gets everything every time?

When you realize your ability to rationalize to get what you want is exactly how you are performing your own calculated modifications.

I want to release my hold on our den as my home base. ∴ j’ai besoin une nouvelle … er … home base. There is a book-shaped thing in my head that tracks the construction of the crutches I’ve been using to brace myself, mustering mindfulness in the face of isolationism. I constructed my crutches out of composite materials… mostly weed, fur and anime. Any new base, ∴, would currently require access to these three things. You could swing the monitor around just to watch anime (don’t act like this was not by design)… but… (filling in this blank is beyond the scope of this particular post).

But, then again, aren’t you meant to draw from the corner like you have from the couch?

And, haven’t you always kinda wanted to use the second monitor option for a full image view while drawing?

Your need to defend yourself is stopping you from achieving that which you set yourself out to achieve, bro.

“Hey, yeah, that looks cool!”

“Here, let me show you something cool… wait… let me take twice as long to store twice the data to create an entire full fledged blog post just for you…”

“On second thought, I’m not that invested.”

Holler if you break the ability to manage the upload myself and img

.@pratik if this message makes it out, we’re all trapped in the well out back

Wait, feels like I nailed a jacket blurb of some sort back there.

I suppose it all amounts to our fear of heights and how comfortable we can be around all the gaps. When a gap freaks us TF out, our subconscious will fill it TF in with whatever it finds readily available. This is rough for those of y’all rocking a fatalist subconscious. Mine errs the other way.

If Jabberwocky (fuck me is that a dragon) were infused with A Modest Proposal and built upon explainable philosociopolitical theory that could prop up at least one ivy league course were blossoming inside the skull of a bloke who’s voice triggers the only other person around.

Bee tee dubs… once I’ve let enough go to fit myself inside one of them RVs John Oliver tried to give Clarence Thomas, me and Kota may just head off Into the Wild

It is time to get rid of all my tools. We have never had a more useful layout for my wall organization system. She wants to introduce cabinets because a wall of organized tools, in a garage, is an eyesore. No. I don’t need to further bury what I need while ensuring I never get to pull the car inside

If you are keeping score at home, despite appearances that thar was progress. I even showed her where our patio table ought be (I staged it and moved it back one day so as not to poke any bears).

When you realize your country’s former presidents are two for two re: moonshots.