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+<!DOCTYPE html>
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+<html lang="en">
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+ <head>
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+ <meta charset="utf-8">
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+ <meta http-equiv="X-UA-Compatible" content="IE=edge">
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+ <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1, shrink-to-fit=no">
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+
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+ <title>unblink - UNBLINK</title>
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+
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+ <meta name="description" content="Misc @misc Condition Some say the human condition is Our contract with death. But I’ve watched my dog Fear death and recoil in disgust. No, our curse is Being in the present While living for a future We believe May inevitably come.
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+Suns It was a lot of wind for us, really, the day the wind came up. There were no grand meteorological explanations. No perfect storms. Just wind, blasting from the southeast, pushing over coolers on tables with eggs for sale.">
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+ <meta name="author" content="[Colin Powell]">
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+
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+ <link href="https://unbl.ink/an-old-hope.min.css" rel="stylesheet">
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+ <link href="https://unbl.ink/style.css" rel="stylesheet">
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+
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+ <link rel="apple-touch-icon" href="https://unbl.ink/apple-touch-icon.png">
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+ <link rel="icon" href="https://unbl.ink/favicon.ico">
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+
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+ <meta name="generator" content="Hugo 0.109.0">
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+
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+ <link rel="alternate" type="application/atom+xml" href="https://unbl.ink/index.xml" title="UNBLINK">
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+
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+
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+
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+ <script>
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+ function setTheme() {
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+ const time = new Date();
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+
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+ const prev = localStorage.getItem('date');
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+ const date = String(time.getMonth() + 1) + '.' + String(time.getDate());
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+
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+ const now = time.getTime();
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+ let sunrise;
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+ let sunset;
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+
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+ function setBodyClass() {
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+ if (now > sunrise && now < sunset) return;
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+ document.body.classList.add('dark');
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+ }
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+
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+ if (date !== prev) {
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+ fetch('https://api.ipgeolocation.io/astronomy?apiKey=5ed37d85103e4defa5df4c5298ed5215')
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+ .then(res => res.json())
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+ .then(data => {
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+ sunrise = data.sunrise.split(':').map(Number);
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+ sunset = data.sunset.split(':').map(Number);
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+ })
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+ .catch(() => {
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+ sunrise = [7, 0];
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+ sunset = [19, 0];
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+ })
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+ .finally(() => {
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+ sunrise = time.setHours(sunrise[0], sunrise[1], 0);
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+ sunset = time.setHours(sunset[0], sunset[1], 0);
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+ setBodyClass();
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+ localStorage.setItem('sunrise', sunrise);
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+ localStorage.setItem('sunset', sunset);
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+ });
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+ localStorage.setItem('date', date);
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+ } else {
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+ sunrise = Number(localStorage.getItem('sunrise'));
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+ sunset = Number(localStorage.getItem('sunset'));
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+ setBodyClass();
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+ }
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+ }
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+ </script>
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+ </head>
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+ <body class="single">
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+ <script>
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+ setTheme();
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+ </script>
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+ <header class="header">
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+ <nav class="nav">
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+
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+ <p class="logo"><a href="https://unbl.ink/">UNBLINK</a></p>
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+ <ul class="menu">
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+ <li>
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+ <a href="/">Home</a>
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+ </li>
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+ <li>
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+ <a href="/post/">Archives</a>
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+ </li>
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+ <li>
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+ <a href="/categories/">Categories</a>
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+ </li>
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+ </ul>
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+
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+ </nav>
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+ </header>
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+ <main class="main">
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+
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+
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+<article class="post-single">
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+ <header class="post-header">
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+ <h1 class="post-title">unblink</h1>
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+ <div class="post-meta">[Colin Powell] · January 1, 0001</div>
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+ </header>
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+ <div class="post-content"><h2 id="misc">Misc <!-- raw HTML omitted --><!-- raw HTML omitted -->@misc<!-- raw HTML omitted --><!-- raw HTML omitted --></h2>
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+<h3 id="condition">Condition</h3>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<p>Some say the human condition is<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Our contract with death.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+But I’ve watched my dog<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Fear death and recoil in disgust.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+No, our curse is<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Being in the present<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+While living for a future<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+We believe<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+May inevitably come.<!-- raw HTML omitted --></p>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<h3 id="suns">Suns</h3>
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+<pre><code>It was a lot of wind for us, really, the day the wind came up. There were no
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+</code></pre>
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+<p>grand meteorological explanations. No perfect storms. Just wind, blasting from
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+the southeast, pushing over coolers on tables with eggs for sale. Slamming doors
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+left ajar.</p>
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+<p>Buddhists believe the world will end in a sequence of seven suns, each causing
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+some specific, systematic failure of a vital life function on Earth. The seventh
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+will consume everything. The ground beneath our feet will burn beyond ashes.</p>
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+<p>There will be no perfect storms when the sun expands to consume us. There will
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+be no grand explanations as a fairly average star does what fairly average stars
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+do when their fuel is expended. But it will be a lot of heat for us, really.</p>
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+<h3 id="curt">Curt</h3>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<p>Not really cutting someone off, but making sure they understand.<!-- raw HTML omitted --></p>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<h3 id="pink">Pink</h3>
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+<p>When I put on a pink shirt I immediately think I’m doing something bold,
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+unexpected. Fuck you expected culture, I’m wearing pink. But really, it’s just
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+light red. And I still look askance at people with mo-hawks or giant riser
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+shoes. Silly fools, using their appearance to signal how they’re different. I
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+should probably just always wear black.</p>
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+<h3 id="infection">Infection</h3>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<p>Under a steel sky, snow falling<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Likely in April, as the garlic<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Struggles to push through soil<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Left on top of it months ago,<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+We forget what we used to know.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+People used to get sick. They<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Used to get close to death.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+And the beer on the table<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Promises me a buzz, comfort<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+And all the things I want.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+But what about the things<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+That I know I don’t want?<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Infection breeds necessity.<!-- raw HTML omitted --></p>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<h3 id="preservation">Preservation</h3>
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+<p>I once had occasion to eat mincemeat from a Ball jar processed eight years
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+before my birth. The dubiousness with which I approached that experience says
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+volumes about our ability to preserve things. Even preservation has it’s limits,
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+you must agree. A ship, replaced board by board over five hundred years will, at
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+some point not be an exercise in preservation, but change. The slow
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+inevitability of change that causes mountains to fall and entire ecosystems to
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+die.</p>
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+<p>Our home among the stars has invited us for a short visit. Let us not, in our
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+determination to survive, forget that we are guests. Mind your manners, do unto
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+others, and don’t try too hard to stay alive that you forget to live.</p>
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+<h3 id="wind">Wind</h3>
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+<p>Traveling ice that builds up on the bows of living organisms I didn’t see until
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+just now, and I’m wondering now how trees got to be here. Certain species are
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+moving. The North is warmer and they know and are moving. Closer to the warmth
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+they go, but not the one here, covered in ice. It’s stuck, stoic, standing its
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+ground. Water drawn up to dizzying heights, to each little branch until a thin
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+paper-like sheet of living cells that turns sunlight into sugar receives exactly
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+as much as it needs to do it’s work. Yes. We are extraordinary machines.</p>
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+<h3 id="sunk">Sunk</h3>
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+<p>It’s that sinking feeling you get, when all things being equal you’d just rather
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+give up.</p>
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+<h3 id="garble">Garble</h3>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<p>When sunk costs dig holes in your yard<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+And rampant words stand vigil over your house,<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+You will be done in your domain<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+As his haven turned out all but the best of us.<!-- raw HTML omitted --></p>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<h3 id="writing">Writing</h3>
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+<p>Writing is a technology.</p>
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+<p>Writing improves information density.</p>
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+<p>Writing creates a moral hazard of intention.</p>
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+<p>Writing remembers what we forget.</p>
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+<p>Writing destroys relationships.</p>
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+<p>Writing cannot replace thought.</p>
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+<p>Writing is not often true.</p>
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+<h3 id="relationship">Relationship</h3>
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+<p>And in the end, we were just supposed to get our work done. But our work was
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+hidden from us, so first we had to discover what our work was. Upon discovering
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+where our work was, it turned out we had the wrong work in mind at the start and
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+so we begin to plumb the depths of our found work.</p>
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+<p>While plumbing, we resolve to do the right work this time. No more time to mess
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+around. We haul up our new work and find that it wasn’t what we expected. No one
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+wants this work do be done at all.</p>
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+<p>But looking around, the work we thought we should do turned out to be okay work.
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+The people around us were able to eat while doing the work, and they laughed and
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+joked, sang and cried. The work made us remember we were human, and that was
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+good work.</p>
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+<h3 id="load">Load</h3>
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+<p>A wire carries, can carry, a certain load before the molecular bonds holding the
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+material together are weighted down too much. Is it unreasonable, then, to
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+imagine the tapestry of our lives, held together by invisible bonds, molecules
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+of constitution. And is it not possible that our constitutional bonds carry a
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+certain load?</p>
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+<p>What are we do to when we need a wire to carry more load? Faced with the upper
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+bounds of physical laws, we need more wires to share the load. We share the load.</p>
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+<h3 id="sky">Sky</h3>
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+<p>Today the winds shifted abruptly to come from the Northeast, which means cold,
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+and snow, and clouds.</p>
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+<p>The sky is a flat, slate gray with wisps of contrast ripped into it by the
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+sheering of the win.</p>
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+<p>They sky occupies half of our world view on any given day. Is it any wonder our
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+moods should rise and fall by the contents?</p>
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+<h3 id="parent">Parent</h3>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<p>To be the parent node, or the source of life<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+For something beyond what you yourself contain,<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Is a special position, in a world of relationship.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+The reason for existence for something so small,<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+And the source of a desperate persistence in the world,<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Soon strong enough to declare itself independent.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Of the source of life, only the parent knows<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+How fragile the connection can feel sometimes—<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+How tenuous the lines that draw the child node back.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+No parent can insure life against tragedy, and no<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+child node can escape the truth of it’s source.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+This is all we’re given to go on, and yet we go.<!-- raw HTML omitted --></p>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<h3 id="interfaces">Interfaces</h3>
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+<p>If we were in a simulation, everything would be an interface. Modify this, get
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+this response, adjust and modify the next things.</p>
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+<p>If we were in a simulation, everything would be relative. Gravity would depend
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+on the flow of time and light would bend and warp.</p>
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+<p>If we were in a simulation we would be stuck waiting for the next step to run,
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+unable to go forward at different rates, or ever backwards.</p>
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+<h3 id="flow">Flow</h3>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<p>When everything appears to be flowing,<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+You tear pages from the book and watch<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+As they flutter to fall in the water.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+When everything falls apart around you<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+You tear at your hair and think<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+As life remains as it was when,<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Everything is flowing.<!-- raw HTML omitted --></p>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<h3 id="space">Space</h3>
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+<p>Take a globe, the one from school, that no one ever actually looked at. Try to
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+imagine how big the moon would be in comparison. A tennis ball? Surprisingly
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+large for a natural satellite. Most planets are lucky to have one a fraction of
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+the size.</p>
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+<p>Put it 30 feet away and then imagine, if you will, sitting in a tin can as you
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+traverse that space, 100,000 times larger. I don’t know how we did it. I still
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+can’t really comprehend the feeling of isolation as they drifted, on a
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+calculated trajectory towards a place that could never harbor life.</p>
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+<h3 id="seat">Seat</h3>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<p>You knew a guest was in the house<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+The seat would be up.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Sometimes the door would be closed.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Intimacy breeds familiarity,<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+And a sense that what was hidden<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Behind the door was less a right<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Of all, than an expectation.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+We are unashamed, possibly even<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Impolite. But we always know<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+When there’s a guest in the house.<!-- raw HTML omitted --></p>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<h3 id="flight">Flight</h3>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<p>And to just lift off, leave<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Everything behind, a fancy<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Flight of. But<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+It’s not really possible.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+And leave just to lift off,<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Find yourself gone, a fancy<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Dinner party of. Or<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+All your best friends.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+They would miss you. Most likely.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+They would wonder where<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+You had lifted off to.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+A flight of fancy from a fancy dinner party.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+All expectation gone.<!-- raw HTML omitted --></p>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<h3 id="rome">Rome</h3>
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+<p>Fireworks at the colisseum. No. In the colisseum. Chinese tourists, roman
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+candles, in the colisseum. From outside, over the wall. Can we remember
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+everything in the past? Or are we doomed to repeat some things. Can we be doomed
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+when repeation is how we learn?</p>
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+<p>Roman candles, Chinese tourists, fireworks in the parking lot at the colisseum.
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+This is not what I had expected.</p>
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+<h3 id="water">Water</h3>
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+<p>Rain doesn’t help us</p>
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+<p>Remember the cause, the</p>
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+<p>Animating factor.</p>
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+<p>Rain only redistributes</p>
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+<p>Colossal amounts of</p>
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+<p>Caustic chemicals everywhere.</p>
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+<h3 id="acadian">Acadian</h3>
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+<p>Diaspora in a compromised land, stretched by forces moving so slowly, slower
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+than we can see but with evidence left everywhere. Culture accretes faster, but
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+still imperceptible, reminding us that no one knows everything, or anything when
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+it comes to that. When it comes to remembering how to live, how we survived the
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+cataclysm, we depend on those who were lost once. We depend on those who knew
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+enough to get us here. We depend on those around us now, able to carry our hopes
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+and our dreams of returning to a place we’ve only been told about.</p>
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+<h3 id="assassin">Assassin</h3>
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+<p>What if we were indestructable? A blaze of light and ground shaking thunder
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+tears through our awarness and then nothing for a moment; sleep by any other
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+name. And we awake years later coming to understand our new surroundings. A
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+roll of dice and oak tree woods and the ocean are replaced by alpine meadows
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+and pine.</p>
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+<p>Isolated from earlier experiences, how would we know? What choice do we
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+have?</p>
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+<p>In a world where joy and sorrow live almost side by side, and where
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+choices are often between bad and horrible, how can we be made whole?</p>
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+<p>What if we were indestructable? Our bodies grow, mature and die, but we
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+never die. How many times would this have to happen for us to discover
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+that the path to right thought was in front of us the whole time? Many
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+times, is my guess.</p>
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+<h3 id="thunder">Thunder</h3>
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+<p>The thunder rolls, and the lightnng strikes. Under a blanket of clouds, cropped
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+tight to the ground, but not so tight to be fog, the thunder rolls. Gray
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+permeates the sky and the thunder rolls. Scattered rain showers ruin a wedding
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+celebration and the thunder rolls.</p>
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+<p>Above the clouds the thunder rolls. The sun shines, and the rain is nothing but
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+what we can imagine.</p>
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+<h3 id="breathe">Breathe</h3>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<p>Before action, there is thought, and before thought there is breath.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Breathe intentionally sometimes. In through your nose, and out through your<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+mouth.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Breathe.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Take that thought in your head, picture it on a piece of paper, and let the<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+paper fly away in a breeze, land in the river running past you, and disappear.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+Now do it with the next thought.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+And the next one.<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+And breathe again.<!-- raw HTML omitted --></p>
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+<!-- raw HTML omitted -->
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+<h3 id="capacity">Capacity</h3>
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+<p>We have the capacity to find joy in all things.</p>
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+<p>A negative attitude is worse than a tumor.</p>
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+<p>The best of life can come from the worst of life.</p>
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+<h3 id="cold">Cold</h3>
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+<p>Roadways clutter with debris of passing motorists and the cold draws the filth
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+out, into a grim reflection of the gray, moistureless clouds above. Cold will
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+descend, has descended, descends over the pine forests which stop only when they
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+reach the sea, or we cut them back and till, plant and live.</p>
|
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+<p>There is so little old growth forest left. In the cold, it seems impossible to
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+have such an impact on so vast and inhospitable an expanse.</p>
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+<h3 id="color">Color</h3>
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+<p>As an article of faith, collaboration, coordination, we claim red comes before blue. Energy and rates of oscilation bounce around inside our eyes and our brain tells us how to feel. Embracing the abritrary and acknowledging the structure of the world serves to build resilience and ultimately to allow us to consume our mortality and live for others as we live for ourselves.</p>
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+<h3 id="consider">Consider</h3>
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+<p>A torrent of wind and water and the blue disappears from the sky, leaving slate gray and silver streaks like knives cutting, deboning houses and slipping trees from sodden ground. And then nothing. Silence and the sun slips onto the surface for minutes, feeling like hours. Children, tempted to dance in the spitting rain scurry back behind boards over windows and the tempest slams sideways into the world again.</p>
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+<h3 id="death">Death</h3>
|
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+<p>A stiff wind blows and snaps the reed in the canebrake. Gilgamesh is dead. And yet we persist. How do we persist? Why do we persist?</p>
|
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+<p>The stories we tell ourselves are fabircations. The world tells only a single story. The story of all life, bending, arcing towards a darkness that knows nothing, that promises nothing. Only the great recycling of energy and mass. Heat and light and dust.</p>
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+<h3 id="fail">Fail</h3>
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+<p>By definition, seasons are temporal. There is no beginning but what we claim,
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+and no end but what we decree. Earth’s oscilations, rotations and orbits provide
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+consistency, but only inasmuch as we remember what came before. Life, our Earth,
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+and each day is change. When drawn out a thousand, ten thousand years, do we
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+have a right, or is it even reasonable, to expect anything to be stable?</p>
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+<h3 id="fixable">Fixable</h3>
|
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+<p>Under what circumstance did we expect this would work? Days, numbered, slide
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+past and not everything is repaired promptly. Some things are not fixable at all.
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+Amazing, what we’ll carry with us, into the subway, the neighbor’s house, our
|
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+last swim in the ocean. Scars from life. Some physical, some metaphysical, all a
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+product of choice and circumstance.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="haze">Haze</h3>
|
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+<p>Before you begin, consider the atmosphere of the day. Take stock when the day is
|
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+humid and hazy and the sun never seems to move beyond the burnt orange hue.</p>
|
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+<p>Or is there not a cloud in sight, with not a drop of moisture in the air and a
|
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+brilliant cerulean sky above you?</p>
|
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+<p>Perhaps the mood is changeable with a brisk wind and clouds that seem to shift
|
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+and move every minute.</p>
|
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+<p>Whatever your day, take stock that how the day presents itself to you can have
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+an impact on how you perceive yourself and those around you. Now act accordingly
|
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+and maintain your virtue.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="inverted">Inverted</h3>
|
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+<p>Imagine for a moment a tree. Hold the shape of it in your mind a moment.
|
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+Consider where it draws its strength. The soil, moisture, minerals.</p>
|
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+<p>Now imagine a human. Hold our shape in your mind. Consider where it draws it’s
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+strength. An inverted tree? Not bound to the soil below, but to the heavens
|
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+above. Inspiration striking like lightining and causing our passions to grow.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="leguin">Le Guin</h3>
|
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|
+<p>“If you cannot or will not imagine the results of your actions, there’s no way you can act morally or responsibly, Little kids can’t do it; babies are morally monsters — completely greedy. Their imagination has to be trained into foresight and empathy.”</p>
|
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+<ul>
|
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+<li>Ursula K. Le Guin</li>
|
|
|
+</ul>
|
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+<h3 id="preschool">Preschool</h3>
|
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+<p>Wow. What’s now? I’m not sure I like … don’t want food, no no. Under the table I think that’s where I, hey. Who took the piece. You. Give it back. I’m sad because he wont give it back and. Yes! I wonder if they have the minions game here. Can I play it? I don’t want to go home yet.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="roughly">Roughly</h3>
|
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+<p>Understanding how everything goes together is, roughly, all that life requires
|
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+of you.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="repeatability">Repeatability</h3>
|
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+<p>Under an apricot sky a world expanded beyond what any one person could hold in their mind. Yet any corner,
|
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+taken in a moment, existed. There was no doubt about this. And what was more, given enough time, it would all
|
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+regenerate.</p>
|
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+<p>Chains of amino acids recombining a million times a second until what stood before you, in the
|
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+blink of a cosmolgical eye, an oak tree.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="seethe">Seethe</h3>
|
|
|
+<p>And in the hour of need, surrounded by all our loved ones, even some we missed or had forgotten about, the sea roils and seethes with the fury that only the planet can command.</p>
|
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+<p>In hubris, life clings to boats, tossed at once, and yet fettered to the spot, frozen, unable to move or suffer destruction. It thought itself invincible. But nothing was ever farther from the truth.</p>
|
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+<p>Memory of this life fades and what’s left is another rock, slightly warmer than the rest.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="soft">Soft</h3>
|
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+<p>The taoists had it right. There is no strength without weakness, no wet without
|
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+dry. Puffing up his chest, he stares through you, as though through staring he
|
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+can destroy. But soon, enfilade and then off-guard the underbelly reveals
|
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+insecurity that air cannot protect.</p>
|
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+<p>All is soft in the middle.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="trees">Trees</h3>
|
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+<p>Take a moment to hold a single, specific tree in your vision.</p>
|
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+<p>Now turn away and try to visualize the same tree in your mind.</p>
|
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+<p>Turn back to the tree and consider that the tree is alive.</p>
|
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+<p>The tree is growing right now; pulling water from the ground.</p>
|
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+<p>Return to holding the same tree tomorrow, and the next day.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="justice">Justice</h3>
|
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+<p>Caught in the wire, with neither the agility or intelligence to free itself,
|
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+the sheep suffocates. Justice lays over humans like the shepard to their
|
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+flock, untangling us in moments of dread, and slaughtering us when our duty
|
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+is fulfilled.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="typing">Typing</h3>
|
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+<p>It’s hard to understand what’s not understandable especially in light of what we never understood to begin with. The sound of the keys made a clicking noise that would have driven an average man crazy, but the lack of preconceptions in this case led to the clack, clack, clack, clack to a tap, tap, tap, tap to a drum beat driven into the heart of the most relevant moments of his life. But he didn’t understand what that meant. Reliving moments you thought were gone. Crying again and again for something you thought you were done with. The clacking, the tapping, leading to recall. Perfect, heartbreaking recall.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="angry">Angry</h3>
|
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+<p>Spend much time there myself. Depth charges primed, deployed, sinking, waiting,
|
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+fury unleashed. Proximity and destruction raining shrapnel slowly sinking. No
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+fire down here, just a shudder and ripping, tearing. Nothing to see. All
|
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+contained by pressure. Crushing pressure, surrounding us all. Can’t decide
|
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+which direction so it goes everywhere.</p>
|
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+<h3 id="upcs">UPCs</h3>
|
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+<p>The ability to reason about output, production or worth. If you id, catalog, organize you can gain insight, improvements or reaction. Understanding your universal product codes improves very little. Codes are tools of catagorization ensuring that everything is unique, trackable, known. All our products should be known. That is a universal goal of humanity.</p>
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+</div>
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+
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+</article>
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+
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+</main>
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