Orange yard toad.
The fundamental aspects of geometry
I’ve long-since run out of things to say.
I need a place for images that do not invoke man’s inhumanity to man or suggest that your father has been reading Dante.
Something about the
Winter bring home the abyss
Of late capital
Two kinds of
Decay joined by
Could we have
Perhaps backed the
It has been a while (again). The convenience of just putting things on Instagram is seductive, I guess. At any rate. . .
Had another day where I slept a lot. A certain amount of catch-as-catch-can with regards to this is inevitable with a graveyard shift, but one needs to exert some control over it to get what one needs from the normal world. I don’t really know where to start with that, which makes me nervous about putting it off indefinitely.
Basically all I do for fun is bathe. I sort of think I’d get something out of leaving the apartment for leisure, but I am attempting to emerge from a period where I was beating myself up for not having a hobby that was personality-defining, so being casual about stuff like that makes me panic.
Whither leisure, the Joaquin Maguire story.
So I have, speaking broadly, a crippling problem with aimlessness. Last night I was sort of hoping that putting stuff up all the time might help with that, because I’d be narrating what was going on. The problem, of course, is that I can’t start that, because I’m too aimless, and then there’s a bunch of panicking and chicken-egg dysphasia-ing. What I did do today was make some marvelous fusion snacks.