Allusions

Slowly, we're getting this baby running. I've got a lot of time to gather what we need. And the tools keep falling in my lap, one after another, in the order needed. It's like being able to read minds or see the future, but instead, right now just keeps getting better and better, and it doesn't look like it's stopping.

Rethinking. 

Being on edge makes for wounds and regrets.

I keep thinking that I'm being impatient but now I realize I'm bipolar. Sorry, I mean that I'm a liar. And I've come to terms with it. Honestly, I'm mostly lying to myself.

Fickle intentions and halfhearted speeches overshadow simple underlying principles made to soothe the frothy sea of emotion.

This is what I'm amped for. The Codes.

So what are they? The programming isn't all debugged yet, so until we can run it through a sim, there's no self monitor safeguard for this bad boy. We're waiting for the beta to conclude, and then we'll share our findings. 

Until then, our researchers will still be working to release the next generation of firmware. Thank you for your patience.  

Idiocy.

That feeling when you've gotten soaked in it. But you realize it's been drying for a while. 

I have problems. They may include general social ineptitude, residual effects of a low self esteem, obsession with specific perspectives, inability to think creatively, remember my dreams, or even hold on to habits, I get no sleep, overdose on sugar and vitamin c, and bike so much, my knee is dying on me.

Can you imagine being inferior in ways that you couldn't even understand? To me, that is hell. And accordingly, is the existence I live in now. 

I can only guess at the effect I have on others, because I've spent so much time trying not to. Realizing the inevitable influence of presence, I wonder if my actions have represented my inner thoughts--which, to be honest, I fear; or if my thoughts are unintentionally masked or muffled from everyone's perception. 

There are few people now that can predict my more intimate reactions to topics or issues. On the other hand, my series of work catchphrases have been met with bemusement, ridicule or some mix of the two.

Even the timing of my exposes are all inappropriate. I realize that in trying to fit an elder sage role, my stories come off as lectures or homages to my personal youth, when I feel like they are attempts at personal encounters. Aside from whatever string of words I can put side by side to make coherent phrases, I understand that communication is made on a number of different levels, most of which, I have not yet mastered.

Yeah, but still, it's all young bullshit.

I have become less and less certain when I am lying to myself and when I am actually giving out my truth.

Time, and time again.

It was five thirty when I first thought about writing.

I'm scavenging the remnants of a previous meal from my personal pot when everyone walks in. It's that feeling of being caught, or more precisely disadvantageously exposed, that rings through my head.

Of course, I'd be as blazed as a Woodstock campfire and all I can think of is, "there's not enough for everyone!" Well fuck. I sit down on the kitchen island and slump over. 

But that was then. 

Now, after a five hour sleep, I will be resetting my sleep schedule.

Now for more systems planning. 

post-mortem review

I get the feeling that I give too little credit for the efforts the people around me put towards building a real camaraderie. On the flip side, my trusting nature has led me astray more than a few times. Dividing what is true and what is not true will be the death of me.

I am building on previous blocks, and I pray for their security.