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the psyche rummage

This is my last Monday before I take on sixteen weeks of a computer-immersed all-day nightmare buffet. Anything productive I do except read comics involves the machines that coexist with us every single second we spend in this parallel. We easily spot those notebooks with those square buttons and flat squares that glow and those boxes that hum with wires attached to another glowing square, but how about all the little ones in appliances and other electronic devices? I don’t have the energy to really get into it. Bedtime.

I’m watching Hard Candy. I remember this movie being a dialog-driven situational mindf–k, and it’s getting that way as this is being typed in another window on the same screen ’cause the JW199D pwnz.

I’ve been doing more relaxing than usual these past couple weeks, but that only means I’ve only left slightly bigger gaps in the whole to-do. I look forward to the next learning phase in the Fall, the second to the last, the heart of what I need to move forward along in my career path (and hopefully some better weather alongside).

The point in my life where I have an idea of what I’m going to do with myself is closer than ever. That happier repetition is just around the corner. A little more mini-golf, a continued indulgence in Texas BBQ and chicken wings, the growth of what has already been going on for decades now: my abstract? Ellen Page’s teenage character in Hard Candy has gone berserk on the guy tied to the chair, and he’s screaming for help.

When I punch the keys, I’m working. Makin’ it rain… peanuts. Actually, it’s much better than I expected ’cause the 4th anniversary of this psyche rummage is next week. Ha! Peace out.

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