new arc

Finished writing an email related to Official things. It’s been awhile since — and though I pretend these posts are email blasts, there’s a mild mode switch when there’s only one on the other end. One could almost mimic a conversation.

After walking about some breeze and it’s a final coolfront here in Florida probably; the flint of a yellow lens and palm trees certain to show every few blocks to coerce the rest of the world you’re in a paradise unknown — well, I couldn’t argue it any different. One probably has a whole different opinion in the Ides of June.

Lately I’ve been thinking about a new name, because this current name is worn out. The same way you see someone desperately dye a blond in an attempt to patch over things long since.

One band I return to, every few years, would be MGMT — while I listen so I think about all those recruited for covert operations. When I looked at my bloodtype I realized I am a defector and that’s okay; that’s okay to be the invader. That’s half the rub: this is all a recruitment process if you’re reading.

But I’m having a real hard time figuring out a new name. I’d like to leave it blank so I don’t have to battle with a feeling of pretentious. The same as a fine-pressed coat hiding all flub underneath. There is no price tag to pay away an unregal reality and background.

But you can’t deny a fresh-pressed suit changes your stride somewhat amusingly; as though you’ve the pocketbook of blanc cheques to suggest you’ll reinvest everything and flatten hills for a new fulfillment center. You can do the whole arms out and the coat behind each hand, surveying your new budding empire.

I never own a suit due to my profession and out of a possibly misplaced pride in eschewing material things. But maybe after a certain while you realize it’s the only clothing left. Either that or something for a wooden retreat.

I know these are all gross exaggerations of a simple username change, but I’d argue half of living is decorating what could be rendered mundane. Everyone loves the histrionic despite all under-breath dismissals; out of a broken inner theater and envy they can’t make the same false tears.

The Internet sure is the histrionic playground, with all the silent eyes waiting for those determined enough to take stage: even if it comes with a dragging-the-name into obscurity a few months later. What would you do with your 15 minutes of fame? I’d hoped it’d never happen because it seems like a scarlet mark, though a reversal: not of what was, but what’s to come, the harbinger stamp as an angel’s bookkeeping in fate.

In any case, off to new things! Whether that’s truly the case or this is another coat paint, I’m still determined to give up brooding. Maybe colours could influence one the same as music, is the idea. What better composition than flits of pink mixed with drab greens and vanillas?

I’ve always mildly envied those well-versed in colour composition. It’s the one thing that always slightly confuses me when I go about decorating a website. This time around I took my default css file and a random palette generator and settled on this. Luckily the css file had some variables I could plug in, or you can always find+replace if you need to.

I’m not sure how others put so much effort into their website; but I also think it’s because I’ve been swindled into forgetting the fundamentals: it’s a place to forget about everything else. While one puts the most effort into a blogpost or the next rearrangement, you can shut out the world.

If you’re used to always keeping that world taped to your monitor then it’s no longer the retreat. One could even argue that art, while often procured from suffering, also requires a still moment to bring it out: if you’re always on guard or pacing around thinking of the next to accomplish, then you’ll get a bunch of disdain for doing anything else other than that which plagues you.

It’s ironic because everything you probably want to do necessitates that moment of silence. When I read Vita Contemplativa asserting the bounty is being in-of-itself, I still was stumped on how to do that. For so long one becomes the Tron motorized pinger between stoplights and tapping and hoping that, eventually, eventually, you can rest. You never will though.

Only by shutting out all the activity and complete and total immersion can one enjoy again; something as simple as making a website. Though I’m still warming up to that aspect. If I had to confess, I doubt I’d ever do pure website decorating more; if we’re making websites why not add more bells and whistles, user logins and a reminder of server bills?

Who knows what will follow, and after enough embarrassment and pacing back and forth and reasoning with the wall how to not let technology consume living itself, so at least I can give you this: that everything begins when you shut out everything else.

I vaguely put it this way out of a fear that, the more I formalize it, the more I’d lose the magic. It’s the same as explaining a videogame and then you realize it’s a masterful maze hoping to strangle your attention: wouldn’t you rather forget all that? Maybe after another half year I’ll come back and try to put it in words.

Until next time!