I wrote this last Friday but forgot to publish it. This may have been a good thing, but I’ll let you decide.
Back when I was studying in Adelaide I’d start writing a post with absolutely no idea what it was about or where it’d go. I wouldn’t be allowed to hit
backpack backspace and delete, nor could I go back and change any words until the end when spelling corrections were permitted. I wouldn’t say the results were ever particularly good, insightful, or a third word, but it felt oddly liberating and…
There’s a new song playing at this cafe I don’t recognise; the singer keeps saying Roxanne is in Malbu and only wants to do is party all night long. I suppose she didn’t take what Sting sang to heart. That may be one of the oldest person things I’ve said here.
…interesting to force myself to write.
I’ve only ever used Macs for half the time, and I grew up on DOS and Windows 3.1 with IBM keyboard layouts, but the ENTER key will always be RETURN to me. Even on my FreeBSD tower I have to swap the Windows/Command and Alt keys or they’re in the wrong place. It makes far more sense to have the Command key adjacent to the spacebar because that’s where your thumbs can more easily reach them. I mention this because I hit the RETURN key after that previous line, and I get the distinct impression another is coming.
Reach is something I’ve been most humbled by since pontificating online. I remember when I first blogged something that generated feedback: it was a gentleman in Moscow of all places. It gave me an oddly fuzzy feeling knowing someone on the other side of the world was reading my words and, more importantly, felt them worthy of comment. I probably should import my old WordPress comments from 2005ish here at some point.
I wonder if centipedes are jealous of millipedes? That went on Twitter first, but I’m trying to incorporate more of what I write there here as well. My blog might be humble and rather silly, but it’s more permanent than social networks. And besides, both have the letter D.