I am ecstatic about last night’s election. Still watching all the footage from the past week. Chaser is hilarious. *does the we-have-a-new-government dance*
I just have one question… being in Australia and all, with Australian spelling, why is the Labor Party spelled without a U? They must be US spies *shifty eyes*
I don’t think that my life is where it is supposed to be. That’s all I have to say on the matter; it is true nonetheless, however.
Anyway I make killer pies. Pumpkin and potato and curry pies to be precise. Nice big batches of pumpkiny goodness. I fucking love them. I brought you pictures even:
I mean … FUCK … these are some good pies — this batch in particular.
I want to write music again… Lyrics, riffs, poems even. I want to take photos, and I want to meet beautiful people; “beautiful” as in GOOD people, beautiful souls etc. I want to find people who want to play music so much that it drives me to play. I don’t get a chance to stop playing, to leave my guitar rejected in the corner or my room.
Also, I want mosquitos to GO AWAY. And I want to know where my slippers have gone to. Why can’t all people be awesome?
No one reads this piece of shit blog, rarely updated at is, so I suppose today it’ll serve as a place to vent. I’m hungry. Pies take too long to reheat. I go to other people’s blogs, people I didn’t even know HAD blogs, and there are people responding and relishing them in love with comments and their own opinions: They have a bubble. I want a bubble. A blue one.
Also, I very much want to be very drunk right now… verily. It’s an odd urge for me, as I usually don’t care to drink more than once a month, and even that is rare. I’ve gotten dumber and number as I’ve gotten older. I used to be so much more awesome. Now I look in the mirror and I just look tired, sleazy and depressed. I am probably two of those three things.
I’ve been questioning everything in my life; analyzing everything; examining all. I don’t like what I see. I don’t like who I’ve become, most of the people I know, or the things I’ve done. I think things need to change. A lot. Radically. Quickly.
I read the seventh and final Harry Potter last weekend. I would have finished about this time last week. I liked it. I even got teary, and THAT is freaky because I am cold and heartless as a rock. Not that I always was. The only reason I can be even as emotionally honest as I am right now is because no one reads this and it’s essentially just a little box with a blue highlight with meaningless words.
I don’t want to be that guy who drinks alone and turns into an alcoholic. But yeah … I really could go for being wasted and content in drunkenness.
Music is good. But I think that I implied that already. I love incomplete. sentences. ^_-
I wish I was more creative. I can’t even be inspired to code nicely. I am in such a mood to drown out my own thoughts in that kind of recklessness you get when listening to loud music, slightly tipsy, and not caring that you are dancing like a fool. You do realize you look like an idiot, but you dance even more ridiculously in spite of it. That’s the good kind of feeling. I wanna be like that. I keep mentioning drinking and being drunk, and it’s not for the badass drinking thing. It’s just so I can get to that really honest raw place. The place I was at the other day; I was truly happy.
I want to be alone but around people; the kind of alone you get in New York when wandering through streets with thousands of nameless, story-less faceless floating passed you. But you don’t go mad in solitude because there are people everywhere. But no one cares about you or tries to understand you. You get to look inside yourself. To them, you’re just another nameless, story-less face. I want to be nameless to some unnamed nobody. I loved walking home from Ryan’s house on a late late night when everything was dark and quiet and the streetlights reflected across the road in the gloss that dirty, iced-over snow had left over the course of the day. Occasionally a cab will zoom passed or a limo with some drunk teenagers reveling in their rebelliousness. It was so awesome walking the dozen blocks or so down Broadway in a big jacket, iPod blasting. I miss that. I MISS THE SOLITUDE.
I am confused.
I am regretful.
I am melancholy.
I am not a beautiful and unique snowflake.
I am hungry.
I am NOT emo, despite the above.
Val, don’t ask please.
I managed to get a Byron Bay Blues & Roots Festival ticket for the Thursday night performances, which luckily included John Mayer (who was the person I wanted to see the most, mostly because I’ve seen most of the others… mostly. most most). I also got my video camera in and filmed some of it. Unfortunately, being at the very front of a moshpit at a live concert makes it VERY difficult to hold the camera still. Damn people jumping around.
Videos are after the jump: […]
A few weeks ago, a friend told me about a different keyboard layout than both the commonly-used QWERTY and Dvorak called Colemak.
I read up on the layout and really liked what I read and since then have been making a serious effort to type using it daily. Today is a great day for me because I have finally got the Caps Lock, possibly the most useless and abused key, functioning under OS X as the backspace key, whose default location is inconvenient in Colemak. I am trully proud to be writing this post using this new skill of mine, although it’s taken about 10 minutes so far…
In order to get the caps remapped, I followed the following directions: http://desp.night.pl/keys.html. I adapted the instructions at the bottom to map Backspace instead of Escape.
I suggest everyone have a read about the benefits of Colemak, and the comparisons to the leading layouts. Mmmm