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Just occasionally during hypnagogia.
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I'd rather get up early and I actually sleep late.
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modern classical, the genre so badly promoted its name is a contradiction
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Tech support for an ISP way back when that consisted mostly of telling people how to click and what a modem is.
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Music that someone paid for me to hear in order to manipulate me.
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If your goal in life is to get smiles, write short shit. There's a reason people invented the term "tl;dr". OTOH.. don't adopt that goal. The people who read a long thought and respond, not necessarily by clicking but by their own thought, internalization and eventual action, those are who you should speak to.
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Nope, not at all. I see RL and the internet as increasingly convergent spaces, and I'm relating to them in increasingly similar ways.
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Crackers and cheese. Good cheeses, on plain crackers so you can taste them. Perhaps on each add a bit of vegetable or fruit, or capers, smoked salmon, cracked pepper, finishing salt. Each bite different!
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Follow your breath.
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Nope. I stopped being annoyed by earworms when I started making remixes of them in my head. Something about the creativity of it allows me to break the cycles. And I don't watch much TV-TV anymore mostly anyway.
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Blank books.
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gmail
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No they don't annoy me, but sometimes I find it difficult to connect with them emotionally, like we're in slightly different worlds.
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I'm entirely an introvert. But I trick people. I can only relate to people at all socially by bringing them entirely into myself, and then being comfortably interverted within my mind, my new expanded mind that contains them. I say the things I think, just as I'd say them to a brick wall. Just like carelessly tossing a stone into a pond, not thinking of how long it will lie there.
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Dead or immortal.
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Well that's so easy: HYPERLINKS. They were this awesome, revolutionary, bizarre, cool, nifty, different, deviant, destructive idea. There was no way they'd survive. But the way they managed to eliminate them, it's gorgeous. It's brilliant. I mean it's brilliantly gorgeous in the way you can appreciate the perfection of a lion, as you surrender yourself to the kill. There are links to things, still. But the links always just go one step and then stop. There's no web, anymore. Each connection is a connection to some egotistic, same, dead, block of a place that pins you as a butterfly to a board as soon as you arrive, now Hyperlinks, those were awesome. Crazy ones. A whole web of documents, linked by words. That delicious maze that almost ever was.
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It is legal. The law they write down isn't the only law there is.
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Brett Williams’s Bio
artist, singer, Discordian, Buddhist, conlanger, Lojbanist, pacifist, anarchist, queer, male, feminist, treehugger, Singularitarian, active, radical, born 1980
