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wordsy
New design is still sitting in limbo, not as bad as the stalled-delete-the-software limbo of PhoToast, but a "my routine interferes with me completing things" kind of limbo. The new design will involve having more words on the page than I do now, a redesign of intent as well as .... visual. I like writing, even when I do it badly (ala most of the time) and I get inspired by wordsy places like Verbalized. Simple, to the point and fun to read. But not journal-like... to be honest, I like randomalia in my reading unless I know the person personally. Then I want to read each drop of their life.

Tangent. Wordsy tangent. Why the fuck is my life so often like a Rube Goldberg machine of mishaps and accidents? It's as simple & annoying as placing a awkward shaped bowl against the microwave when I am washing dishes, which leads to a number of things leaning against it and ends up with somehow snagging an entire handful of clean forks with one plastic cover and sending them all spinning onto the floor. I always yell at the objects like it is their fault, as we know it is, and wonder how it could happen. As if I tried to setup things that way there is no way I could accomplish it. I swear that someday I am going to elbow a bag of bread and somehow collapse the apartment building next door.

But maybe it's just the universe trying to tell me that my current state of mind (sour, self-obsessed, pent-up, frustrated, on-edge, unable to smile for real) is affecting more than just my immediate environment but causing real woe in the world, ala butterfly in tokyo kind of damage. Talk about self-obsessed.

P.S. I am not talking about current as in "this hour" but days, weeks, months and most likely the entire last decade. It's like my entire reserves have been drained, as in those reserves that people recharge when they take vacations. Mine are empty, the furnace of my contentment is off and I don't know how to re-light the pilot.

Oooops, I didn't mean to rant or whine but sometimes the words come out.


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