Can't sever myself in discrete chunks. Can't step out of time and figure out what happened. Can't analyze what's doing the analysis. Can't introspect, can't set a control group, graph the result. Nothing erased from this hard drive, it's all there, overheated and congealing. Attention involves a blind spot. Perception is fiction. Gestalt little happy faces. Can't see atoms, infrared, most of the E-M spectrum; don't believe my eyes, but fear the alternative - living in a cave - even more. Being and not being. Give me my cell within the Borg, an oar on a slaveship; can't handle being alone no more, so desperate to sell what's left of my personality.
I switched to Blogger beta, and it's way cool. One neato thing is the stats on post frequency by year and month. Seems something happened in August 2004 that took the fire out of me (heartbreak?). Then in July 2005 I attempted to retire (burnout); after my comeback I was never the same. Or maybe I just ran out of things to say. Whatever the case, each year I've posted approximately half of the previous year's totals. So 2007 will get only 50 posts, approx once per week. I hope they're good!
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