This is not even the authentic website. This is my old wordpress blog. That I still seem to update from time to time. Semi-regularly. It’s twenty days. That is the first number within this text. Some time last summer I was considering the merits. Of what is the point of simply… practice? Is the point to simply practice? By writing something over and over again a metric is developed and by that method a sort of ranking, a counting begins to take form.
The author who is writing is present in many places, and also interested in developing multiple audiences. Right. In one sense in should be easy.
Just as I moved to eliminate branded t-shirts from my life, arrives an offer for a free t-shirt if only. Should I take advantage of the starbucks free gift card? Should I register for a free coffee on my birthday? Should I make my own coffee? It does taste good.
Well, I wandered to and fro from different windows of context. I am editing many different documents at this time. Some are physical. There are two paper drafts to cross through. I want to study a possible UX of the information contained within the syntax. One publication on Medium which consists of several stories.
As the sun sets on yet another beautiful day the brilliant sky dome rests above the eucalyptus forest, trailer park, single family homes and two story apartments. Its a pale blue sunset now. The clouds are still white and the real secret to seeing nothing but the sky is to use the glossy mirror screen of my laptop to reflect the wonder above back into my own grey eyes as I write. Watching this sunset is a little more faint than usual, vivid memories come when times change. And simply knowing times are changing is all that is needed to make the world seem a little empty because Venus is not to be spotted in this dusk. The moon is out of sight too. Is that because you are already ‘gone’? Living under the flight path means I wave at your matter as the passengers fly past on their way across the entire ocean. It once seemed so far but now it is easy to see it is not.
Why does the medium matter? Dijkstra sat at his desk and wrote long notes and thoughts. Detailed passages. Lovely to behold and delightful to read, his long sweep’s of the pen leaving behind their clear delicacy. What if Dijkstra instead sat at his keyboard instead? And communicated via taps of keys instead? Does the language change? Is the writer freed or limited? Is the process still the same? What is the input and what is the output? Is the only important thing the order and type of character? What if it is posted on a website no one ever sees? What if there is a password?
Update on the Sunset: It is now colors near red that I swear to have not seen before. Also the clouds are dark grey with iridescent rainbows now. Leaving this place means I’ll miss you… Now back to writing. Or Typing. Or publishing my typing on WordPress. Or Medium. Or Github. Or Writing my Own Code. Writing my Own web domains. I’m not sure if I like to share responsibilities. I like to own what I make.
Should my computer be a place or a person?