Pop-Tarts, Peanut Butter and finally relaxed... It's 9PM and it's going down in my room. Can only leave here at SET TIMES. Think about it this way - when I'm in my room, in my headphones, I'm in full control. Can change the music and auditory settings any time, and just listen to my thoughts.
Privacy. By giving it to another, I received it. Uncle Az, his own space. Cousin Dada, the right gadget. Cousin Dada. So mad at myself - I was overly generous, painfully so, extended beyond my limit in giving and hurt badly as a result.
Ground me! Virtual-Make my mind! Help me escape the nightmarish physical conciousness! This is a real-place, too, my room. Sit here reading this. I'm really listening to you. We can talk, Cousin. Stumble upon me when you're ready. Last place on this plane you would turn. I see what you did there... I know you're reading this.
"Nega, you are such a creep."
"Scorpio! Your money didn't buy anything!"
"Just don't make me pull out the pliers."
"You're so violent!"
"You're too passive-aggressive!"
I agree with being an ultimately non-violent being. Creep Author makes for a good career. Creep Author is basically writing threats to the reader, like death threats. Not to act on them, only for the thrill. Reader's thrill. Writer's thrill. It ain't gambling, and it sure as hell ain't shootin' dope. Lil' liberal for some, sure, but it ain't killin' 89 people on roadways each day, my country.
Cousin Dada's got a story. She's witnessed the extreme of violence, and can't bear the pain. She's traumatized, but somehow, she can find some respite on the Internet. She's virtual now. Protect your personal information long enough and pretty soon you'll start to forget it, too!
Be what you want to be. Progress in reality might lag progress online! And computers aren't guaranteed to last forever. So we need to work day jobs to make sure we can afford the next computer. That means we need a car to get to the shops and get to a little day-time work. But don't ask me to get up from my laptop between the hours of 9 PM and 2 AM. I'm here in the trenches, clearing up all of these polluted electrons.
I don't even breathe Oxygen. I breathe Electronics. I am a Netigationalist. Nega Rark.
What do I do off the keyboard?
Everything I can. I'm manual-illiterate. Dexterity-deficient, my only strength seems to be my ability to type. So I need to get in a routine where I type a lot. That's my job. I can type everything that's going on, so fast, you won't even hear it. I'm the fastest typer on this here online network and I'll make a living moving electrons. I'll make a living being a writer.:banghead:
I don't ask that comments be moderated before displaying. Please, speak your mind here. Only Contacts may read.
Privacy. By giving it to another, I received it. Uncle Az, his own space. Cousin Dada, the right gadget. Cousin Dada. So mad at myself - I was overly generous, painfully so, extended beyond my limit in giving and hurt badly as a result.
Ground me! Virtual-Make my mind! Help me escape the nightmarish physical conciousness! This is a real-place, too, my room. Sit here reading this. I'm really listening to you. We can talk, Cousin. Stumble upon me when you're ready. Last place on this plane you would turn. I see what you did there... I know you're reading this.
"Nega, you are such a creep."
"Scorpio! Your money didn't buy anything!"
"Just don't make me pull out the pliers."
"You're so violent!"
"You're too passive-aggressive!"
I agree with being an ultimately non-violent being. Creep Author makes for a good career. Creep Author is basically writing threats to the reader, like death threats. Not to act on them, only for the thrill. Reader's thrill. Writer's thrill. It ain't gambling, and it sure as hell ain't shootin' dope. Lil' liberal for some, sure, but it ain't killin' 89 people on roadways each day, my country.
Cousin Dada's got a story. She's witnessed the extreme of violence, and can't bear the pain. She's traumatized, but somehow, she can find some respite on the Internet. She's virtual now. Protect your personal information long enough and pretty soon you'll start to forget it, too!
Be what you want to be. Progress in reality might lag progress online! And computers aren't guaranteed to last forever. So we need to work day jobs to make sure we can afford the next computer. That means we need a car to get to the shops and get to a little day-time work. But don't ask me to get up from my laptop between the hours of 9 PM and 2 AM. I'm here in the trenches, clearing up all of these polluted electrons.
I don't even breathe Oxygen. I breathe Electronics. I am a Netigationalist. Nega Rark.
What do I do off the keyboard?
Everything I can. I'm manual-illiterate. Dexterity-deficient, my only strength seems to be my ability to type. So I need to get in a routine where I type a lot. That's my job. I can type everything that's going on, so fast, you won't even hear it. I'm the fastest typer on this here online network and I'll make a living moving electrons. I'll make a living being a writer.:banghead:
I don't ask that comments be moderated before displaying. Please, speak your mind here. Only Contacts may read.
