I’m sort of starting to pay attention.
I’ve studied some HTML this morning before I even had breakfast. Just woke up, to studying. That’s how it should be. Any free time I have I should be studying.
Father makes loud, irritating noises. His voice is a nuisance. It’s always on. He’s downstairs talking at mother.
My algorithm is different. I’m more selective. Less predictable.
I bought this laptop to design computer games. I haven’t published a single one yet. Sadge.
Delusions at this time of day.
I bought a set of pencils, a sketch pad, and colored pencils, a really really long time ago, and I have hardly used any of it. I am under the impression that to improve your skills is this really rigid like diligent study of shape and form and shit. And it’s like painstaking and hurts my brain to copy what I see. Instead of just being free-form fun to sketch whatever you want.
There’s definitely a psychological block to practicing art in me.
I write poetry once in a while.
Really, I should be subscribed to an intellectual observations journal, and write my own essays for it in response to other observations of intellectuals who submit to it. Wow English is a clumsy language. Amazing sentence.