On blogging

I think, thing is.. thing was. Is. I mean, have you read the blogs out there? Like, really read them?
It's like every commenter on youtube also has a blog, where they discuss other bloggers and (apperently) awful spelling/grammar. Often with horrible spelling/grammar.

I cant speak for anyone else, but re: swedish bloggers? Y'all bollocks, neo-nazis and anal. Were your teachers really that terrifying, that you feel the need to attack strangers left and right, implying that people who cant be bothered with spell-checks have lower IQ?
(The irony of complaining about people complaining in blogs in my blog is not lost on me).

I guess, having done this a couple of years, some of us feel intitled to some sort of respect or at least, a belittling smile here behind our screens. But we dont. Or, rather, I dont. I dont blog.
I cant tell this fukre apart from the rest of them (hint: there's less pics up). So, no, I dont have a header promising that this blog will entail "everything in my crazy life and head *teehee*" but part from that?

There's no way for me to run a study blog without the student. There's no way, for me, to go back to doing what we used to, my head doesnt work like that anymore. Maybe it would, if things were different, really no point in doing ifs.

As you can see, Im still horribly inconsistent with my 's. All is well.

ps. Appropå inlägget nedan så är det ju oftast så att jag vill dricka öl när jag träffar världens bästa vänner, inte att de pånåtsätt tvingar den på mig. Jag blir bara lessen när jag inte har råd att dricka öl med världens bästa vänner, och så gör jag ingenting istället. Det låter ju lite dumt, men så är det. ds.

Jag är så trött på att grina på min kammare över att jag inte har några pengar. Jag är så trött på att vänta på CSN så jag kan betala CSN innan den 31:a om de behagar att dyka upp innan dess, och jag är ännu tröttare på att försöka förklara detta för en snorvalp på telefon. Jag är så trött på att mer och mer förvandlas till Maggan, som är pank, bitter och ändå har råd att ta en öl, during which hon gnäller på att allt är förjävligt, för det är inte den jag är men den jag blir eftersom jag aldrig säger nej. Om man säger nej blir folk som inte heller har några pengar (fast sparkonto, några hundra fram till lön, eller föräldrar) besvikna och det kan jag inte med.
Jag känner inte igen mig själv och jag kan inte tänka mig, ens föreställa mig, en framtid då jag inte vänder på varenda krona, lånar och bjuds och har aldrig råd att bjuda tillbaks, eller blir provocerad av indredningsföretag/-programreklamfilmer. Det är så svårt att föreställa sig problem för dem som strosar in i videobutiken, slösar några hundra på förbrukningsprodukter som de njuter av i sina miosoffor och ernst-skärgårdsmys-kuddar. Jag vet att de har problem, bland kuddarna, men det är svårt att ha förståelse för problemens natur när jag inte vet hur jag ska äta. Det finns inget att äta, hörrni! Det finns ingen chans att betala csn, utan att få csn, och då blir det extra avgifter. Hörrni. Och den jävel som säger nåt om cigaretter kan inte ha läst särskilt noga, då det borde framgå att jag inte rökt på ett tag. Vilket inte alls hjälper.

Jag är jättetrött, vill gå och lägga mig. Klockan är 14:50.

June-July, A summery

1. I cant believe I saw Dylan Moran live. I cant believe he's gone again.
4. I cant believe school's over for summer (every year you just turn into this high-on-life fourteen year old, waiting to high five someone)
5. Til you realize you have to work.
6. The 'Could you tell me if he's psychotic' Party (he didnt show up)
11. People! Whats wrong with you?
13. I still cant believe I saw Dylan Moran live!
20. Midsummer's, where I spent the evening conversing with my future self.
22. Where's the sun!?!?!
25. Oh there it is. Oh god. I'm dying.
28. People! Whats wrong with you?
1. I cant believe I haven't seen him for so long. Everything is just less fun without you.
6. Hi HI! There you are, I missed you so much.
9. No money, no food, no cigarettes. As usual.
13. Night out, I needed that.
16. Talk about the future.
17. Think about the future.
18. Jinxed.
21. Ideas taking form, net's growing, this fall; things gonna happen. Feeling strangely excited about unexciting things.
22. Jinxed?


There's been no room for tweets and blogs this summer.
All over the world, people have far more interesting and important things to say. Mine would've been customer-related bitching, there's limited purpose in that.
I have a few things to say, and they will emerge when good and ready. Sometimes the space I take is imagined, both the importance of it and the "actual tub space" (heh).
Im chalking that up to narcissistic tendencies, you may do so to.

world englishes

Which is actually a subject I would love to touch, being a L2 speaker and all, but not today.
No, today its quicky-posty time, I have movies to watch, things to take care of and most definately books to read.
Following the honest guilt-trend here, Id like to say a few things about procrastination (guess what this is, btw). See, I know there's this idea of lazyness attached to it, and that might be partially true, but its not all of it. Again, its about fear of failure. If I dont give it my all (ie start on time and work on something for long) I wont feel as bad if doesnt turn out good.
Its hard trying to explain the procrastination way for non-believers, cause ultimately, it is a destructive force. I do think, however, that peoples work rythms are very different, and most of you who dont, would benefit from thinking the process thru before you start. The problem after that is just starting (and not the day before deadline).

Ive always been a procrastinator. I noticed early how I could get away with minimal effort, so I did. Thing was, I always got stressed by putting it off for so long, so the final (usually brilliant, ahem) product was always tear- and sweat drenched. I was waiting for the right time to do things differently, you know like, when it would matter. But I think it never did. I could always pull something above-average out of my ass when I needed, not becuase Im that smart, but because I understood what I needed to (with minimal effort).

Ive lost that ability now, and I guess thats a good thing. I need to work hard, really hard, on assignments "below" my intelectual capacity. Naturally, this breeds doubt and anxiety, meaning my starting's never come unless I find someone to make me.

This semester has been so much harder than it needed to be.

fuh-DELL-uh-tee

Turns out its impossible for me to write a strict study blog in english. Most of my imidiate observations and thoughts concern swedish phenomena, 't would be tarded and time consuming, not to mention tedious to read, to try and explain everything.

Secondly, trying to keeping this place up to date without mentioning my thoughts on books, classmates, teachers, ideals and despairs sounds fucking ridiculous now. What was I thinking?
A lot.
Which brings us to #3, I cant get around this without going all out; last years condition still has to be dealt with. So lets start there.

I know there's a high frequency of both malpractise, quick n easy solutions and misunderstandings regarding the "diagnosis" burnt out. Or similar.
What pisses me off though, is people who know me, and still doubt the legitimacy of my sick leave. Im still having a hard time coming to terms with what actually happened, how I will prevent it from happening again (something that wakes me up in the middle of the night) and how legit I think it is.
Not that any doubters are reading this, but Im not on any pills, Im spending money and time talking to a professional, I dont feel like a victim but the condition, whateveritis, affected my work performance. Thats why people get sick leaves, they cant work. I know, I know, I know, there's a whole trend of people being considered lazy on one end, and people using the system on the other. I cant speak for them, or their doctors.

My case was this; I didnt function. Luckily, even though it'd been building up over time (how long? dunno) the emergency break was pulled before an actual crash. Did I cry and thought it would be easier to kill myself? Yes. The crazy german doctor called it exhaustion/depression, and I dont think anyone around me couldve pegged me as depressed. We're different.
Bitchy doctor lady then continued to explain this as a lack of vitamines. She also assumed I was on a diet and wanted to get pregnant soon, but I digress.

The woman Im now seeing about these things, and general everyday fuckery, is cool. I think she kinda gets me, which is rare. Not that Im unique snowflake in any way, but I cant stand being held up to a norm not chosen by me. I think thats fundamentally human in a way.
Am I "cured"? I have no idea. I have serious issues with what Im studying, where Im going, and the future scares the crap out of me. This all sounds perfectly normal.

My sense of self has, for some reason, never been completely destroyed. My confidence in getting things done, has. Obviously it affects this place here, my words will never be good enough and my thoughts will never be clever enough. Im ok with that, question (again, probably not directed to anyone reading this) is, are you?

1 step forward, 2 steps into shitsville

So, what a great week to be internet-less, huh.
Thing is, 'course I couldve used other peoples wires here and there, but easter and catastrophic things were upon me you see.

Now then, with that thwarted (meaning I can haz 3 year plan and housing) Im back in business.
She wrote, cautiously remembering "wireless" usually means non-existant.

On Baumann, last weeks read:
Baumann, in general, was a hoot to read. Calling groups 'politically retarded', drawing easy to understand parallells between the states and Europe without forgetting the differences. However, he's eager and angry, sometimes to the point where Im loosing both his point and whatever it arguments he used to make it. I guess he writes like I wish we could write (notice here Im already referring to myself as a scientist, ha!). When we know its right, and there's no time or energy to waste on petty things, and at that point you tend to communicate a kinda 'here's my truth, Im right, deal' text. This is, of course, simplification royale, but at its worst, Baumann is truthiness. Albeit, my kind of truthiness.

Im still struggling with understanding what culture is, or how it manifests itself, outside of the social science discourse. This is not a case of poor teaching or misguiding books, just a matter of how one is raised. No 'culture' was bestowed upon me, in order to seperate me from 'the others'. To every argument there was two sides, and reality was something you yourself shaped, just keep in mind that everyone else does it too. Growing up, you quickly realize everyone is not like you, Im guessing how quick depends on how different a stance you take. Or maybe, how well you listen. In any case, the essientialist view of culture, especially as a social scientist, is very hard for me to understand. And not very rewarding to use as a backdrop for any study. My task now is to learn how to at least pretend I understand it when talking to people. Which shouldnt be hard, I already know how to pretend-understand japanese and german.

We've moved in on Nuclear Rites almost a week ago, and Ive been so busy with the study questions I havent really had time to reflect on the reading it self. This hopefully just means Ill be engulfed in it by next week. In short, Gusterson studies a nuclear weapons laboratory, who works there and why, how is the interaction with the town and near-by activists, and what I would call, the relationship between the micro and macro of nuclear ideologies.
Im guessing his central message is (like Baumann) that there's no natural or given ideology regarding nuclear weapons. Himself being against it, he does a brilliant job of not letting that shine through too much. However, Im against any sort of nuclear weapons (and power too) so whatever bias views he shares might not be filtered by my own glasses.
The most interresting chapters are the ones involving the secrecy in and around the lab. Some very high-tech FBI stuff, there.

More on this and much more later, the pile of work next to me seems to have grown half a meter since last I looked. Blargh.

Day 1 & 2 Combined A

So, first thing's first. Im reading social anthropology, which Im hoping to cleverily work into the title soon. This teacher is heaven sent. Parts of our lectures were as close to Dead Poets Soceity Im ever going to be (not a fan, but that's not the point).
In four hours total, we've covered some Wittgenstein, the problems and complications with "culture", nihonjinron, reading for all the tards who are new to it and how this course is gonna play out in general. Mouthful!

Book we're currently reading: The Multicultural Riddle - Baumann, G.
Books I want to start reading already:
Foreign News - Exploring the World of Foreign Correspondents
King Leopold's Ghost
Dreams from My Father

My first reaction, looking back on the history of anthropology and our two last courses, is in all honesty, wtf? How, exactly, did this work? And for so long. I get that there was a lot of people who "did the right thing" or whatever you wanna call it, but part of me just feel we know nothing.
I understand the times were different, present ideologies and what was probably experiences as a right way to do it, just as I am set in my track now. Im just saying it shades the actual data we do have.

(I also wondered what possessed the man behind me to shout out colonialism when we're talking about important post-45 events. Or if the latin sic. in anyway is related to the reading instructions structural - interpretive - critical. I know its not, but I kinda want it to be.)

"Whatever we see could be other than it is. Whatever we can describe at all could be other than it is. There is no order things a priori."
How is this related to anthropology?
Well, there was this thing on chairs, right. The chair is only a chair cause we named it so, in order to seperate it from non-chairs (much like ethnicity, which also only becomes relevant in relationship to someone "different").
And I wonder about sitting? We all sit. I imagine the best anthropologic place to be is much like when youre abroad, trying to communicate with someone, lets say about chairs. They dont know it, you dont know what word they use, but eventually we must sit, somehow. When you reach that level of understanding and showing "Aaah, the sitting place? Oh ok" we're halfway there.
It wont be a chair, still, but at least we're sitting together.

This naturally led into the old "the world wasnt flat, but since people then thought so, anthropologists need to think so to." Of course, the conflict between the two views is interresting.

Step 1: Formulate a plan

The short version would be; I was knocked down last year, I picked myself up, Ive been sitting thru two godawful courses just to get to what Im studying now, I still cant let this place go and now I found usage for it (and so, me).

One of our assignments will be keeping a study log (how Kirk am I feeling? Very) and I intend to do so here. Out of the log a so called reaction paper will be born, I will get good grades and all will be well(-er).
This is handy for a lot of reasons; I get to properly form whatever derranged line of thought Im following, the much needed (i.e craved) use of english is validated and there's that ridiculous feeling of having to do it. Also, the need for personal b.s and excuses may or may not appear, either way is fine.

I think that'll do for introductions. Hi!

It cant be that bad

right? I mean, if it were how could I have:
Stuffed my face with Turkisk Peppar (translation not needed)
Almost-watch silly weed comedies
Kinda developed a crush on a comic book artist (happens. Although the pattern I follow is interesting enough to blog about. later)

slater, dickwads.

part 2

Here's to new beginnings; I just got unofficially diagnosed as 'burnt-out' with severe syndromes. Im not even sure what that means, and I just recently accepted this made up condition as an actual illness, so why am I not more surprised?

Where do we go from here?

Well, yeah, you know, Im at the office (still Uni), I should be transcribing, but to be perfectly honest, if I never transcribe again, itll be too soon. Ive been doing it forever now, but some of them are so weird I never get past that 5 min/hour mark. Or maybe its the man slaughtering the radiators above, the anxiety of being here or the grilled chicken thats flapping around in my head. Whatever the reason, blogs are back in fashion (or on their way out, its hard to keep track these days).

Now, there's a lot of things I didnt/dont get with the MMBH (massive multimedia blog hysteria).
Maybe Ill just do a list and change my mind someway half thru? Ok, ready?

• Not fashion blogs, but the amount of fashion blogs. There are whole communities dedicated to showing off the users daily outfits, there are fruit-sites, you know, so why so many one-person blogs/opinions about something as (lets face it, I know it hurts) mundane as fashion?

• The "Nice-rules", the anti-cyber bullying campains, the idea of a 'blog community' with similar opinions and focus, all while its normal, even encouraged, to write whatever they like about britneyjordanbushidiocracy. So, what, internet is for you and your little friends and people who doesnt agree with you should "respect your space and privacy"? There are such things as actual paper journals, Word (tip: name the folder 0811, Nov 08 or My thoughts) and, again, communities where you decide who reads your journal. Noone likes a troll, but if you dont feed it, itll go away.
• I think that all bloggers realise the absurdity of blogging about everyday life, and (rightfully so) question why anyone should read it, thats the charm. Assume we're all in it or not in it for different reasons, the fun of reading blogs is, for me, finding those out. However, unless youre hysterically funny or attractive, you and the antics of your cat will only generate a very small group of readers. There's no shame in this.
• I think that viewing blogs as some homogenic group/phenomena is silly and boring, and call for higher education/internet restrictions. Some of us do enjoy the possibilty of keeping mystery, beauty (I might not strike you as such at the moment) and fiction close, we are very much allowed to do so.

Today is december fourth, Im starving, stressing out and see myself being finished/collapsed in about two weeks time. This is my advent calender.

No titles

It is that I have to force myself to write here, that I remember the pro's of doing so, and I know its right. Its not only about the effort, or kidding myself into thinking Im good enough to pop in and out of this however I want, Im not going to compare it OCD or anorexia, but it is about control. Over your own stinky little universe. See, mine used to be filled with stars, and I think it is still, but there's smog too. I like smog, reminds me that I do live in a city and that I am moving in a pace a lot of people cant keep up with.
What I semi-do for a living now is involving a lot of swedish speaking, - listening and writing. Seeing how there's no bilongo in the sky anymore, and I have to translate half the things I say to small amount of company I am keeping, its hard holding down the few unruly english mechanisms still here.
Was out with a friend the other night, she said she sometimes have a hard time understanding me. As this is nothing new really, Im just surprised I dont hear it as often. Does that mean people are not listening at all? Am I testing them?
However, it seems, Im clearer in english. Probably cause I have to make an effort, constructing sentences, coming across as me, but not euro-weird (you know what I mean). I do find certain things easier to talk about in english, but I wouldnt say I use it as shield (ya, the whole thing about emotional language), its not like saying love is any less heavy than saying älska. Or ai, liebe. Words are words, if I say them I mean them. Its just, english tends to be a better window for explaining; for portraying and displaying thoughts and ideas, without necessarily making them my own (cause usually they are not), claiming them, capturing them or marking them down as permanent.
And, after having studied bilingualism for a while, I realise this is not typical. If Im relaxed enough I barely acknowledge the switch at all, no matter.

So, for this, as this is a part of me, and I now have an office, my own place, the logistics are cleared, Im keeping at it for a while.
Just to keep at it.

Seems like Im only able to get the bloggin to function if Im annoyed with people enough. Dont get me wrong, I am now ofcourse, but not as much as to actually blog about it.
Unless Im at work 2 (videostore) where there's no end to it. Sadly, clerks have no blogging at work rights, otherwise the bloggosphere would be filled with good rants about idiots.
It is now, but I find that the idiot ranting you take home with you just isnt as potent and more sour than the spur of the moment loveliness one thinks of ten seconds after the acutal incident occured.
I digress.

What have I been up to?
Oh everything and anything and nothing.
Everything as in Ive worked full time (mentally, at least) with something that was supposed to be part time, get me places, and just in general, be fucking awesome.
Anything, anything at all I could afford or have time for was what I did when I wasnt working/stressing out. Meaning no choice.
Nothing is what I have to show for it now, come September. No money, no thesis, Im not too sure about work, definatly no tan fading, creativity and potential love all fucked, you know whatever.

Choices are important to me, its not as much about walking the right path, its about walking your own path. My path since forever, feels like its been chosen for me. I have no jewish mom telling me to be a doctor/marry a doctor, but I have a knack for ignoring whatever Im feeling and doing "the right thing", perhaps even when it might be wrong.
Whoa, either very deep or contradictory load of bull. I could go either way here, no one cares about this place, including me.
Point being, when someone "asks" you to work part time with research at the university, and youre as newbie as they come, its not a choice to accept, you just do. When your living with you ex, and youre soo sick of not being wanted (everywhere Ive lived damnit), an overpriced studentapartment is not a choice, its a fact. I can go on and on about how almost every aspect in my life is like this, but it wont make anything any different. What bothers me most is that Ive always been convinced that its all about choices, even the stuff that "happens" to you, are things you are letting happen to you. And now, this is true to an extent, but what about when you made the wrong choices for too long? How do you pull the breaks on such a thing?

.....

Well, I dont know. But: Beer!!

well, yeah, but is it art?

Nah-ah, its 25 min of paint! Awesome!

Also; when youre eating a real tasty sallad, but its not enough, you know, you need bread.
If you, like me, put your bread in the owen a lot (there's an accident waiting to happen, and I dont even have insurance!), Im just going to share that keeping the owen open while its cooling off + tasty bread with olive oil and salt = just a lil slice of heaven.
Toast - heaven without the stroke.

Memento Mori

So, break-down was obviously needed and way over due. Good riddens, now if the pain behind eyebrow would just up and leave, we could really get startin here. Seriously, feels like its just gonna 'splode all over the screen. Eewww.

I fell asleep watching O Brother yesterday, so today felt kinda awkward until I started digging death songs. Yeah, strange fruit, dark night, all that.

Problem when stressing while being petrified, like yesterday, is that you know (You KNOW) exactly how goddamn lucky you are to have that. You know what people think of you for possibly screwing it up, you wouldnt want to speak any ill of it, cause its so goddamn lucky, you practically have leprechauns coming out of you arse (and oh, Hi, Happy S:t Paddy's day!)

But uh, where was I? Oh yeah, dont think its about lazy or not being grateful enough, thats all Im saying. I know exactly how blessed I am, but Im also starving and working really hard, so Im entitled to bitching.

You might feel defense is red-alerting a bit today, and thats because Ive returned to forum lurking. Its fun! People get all mixed up in drama, politics, bassoons (sp?) and whatnot. Coming from outside, its hilarious. We've all been there I suppose (no wait, what?).

Now its more blues, dreaming about warm weather and avocado sallad royale. Peace!

Is there a doctor in the house?

I know, still no dazzling art work or even update and yadayada. Noone reads this anyways (cept you, sweetie; Hi!).

Ive been doing double courses since 25th of Jan, moved around the 20th of Feb, having awesome sex meanwhile, and now Im apperently assistant in this research project (HUGE!) and Im not even close to qualified for it, but there ya go. Like dad said 'life's unfair, but sometimes thats your advantage'. So life, to put it mildly, has been somewhat hectic.

Nearly no social events, no beer, no money to spend on fun things or hell, even tasty things.
Just study, study, work, stress, work, study, study, (sexytime), work, eat cheap and close-to disgusting things. Makes Ed a dull girl, naturlich.

Cause, its like this; Ive had these periods of time before; no money and a lot of responsibility, youre not in control of your own time, and theyre fine, I can handle them... For two weeks.
Now we're pushing four, and this after (by my standards) a rough patch and I just-

I need to breathe. I need control over one morning or night, one without stress or thoughts.

Im not being friend enough, Im not being partner enough (where its needed), Im barely a daughter, Im just a student (coincidently quite low-ranking in the goverments eyes).
My mind, of course, thrives on this, and is currently indulging in weird dreams and thoughts completely unrelated to the matter at hand (school, if ya missed it) and Im telling you, Im not able deal with them in a healthy manner. Youre not helping!

Struggling with all these thoughts about possibly, maybe, being one of those I used to despise, one that everything seems to work out for (what if I am?) when I should be doing the dishes in my awesome "apartment", write my resumé and just get on with it - Now, I feel I came to a halt.
Its just Stop. Fuck.

Sing sing sing

(somewhat manically).
New housing, new internets (that works, people!) and its been a few hectic days, weeks, no, months but yesterday the "apartment" (nah, sorry, one room is still no way near an apartment for me) was filled with the chemical romance that is nail polish and hair colour and that means Ive claimed it. (and and and?)

Just gimme a few days to catch up in school and sort the possible webhosting out, and we'll have this up and running in no time. Ive already stocked up on booze.

MWAH.

I rubbed this all over my face

Yeah, so..Where was I?
No matter. Deal is, everyone (and I mean almost everyone I know) are having babies and/or getting married this year. Im not happy for them. I will be, promise, as soon as I live somewhere (anywhere as long as Im by myself now), as soon as Im no longer wearing plastic bags in my shoes to keep the snow out. I will be, whenever I stop feeling like such a looser and failure for not being there, wanting that, not stressing out about it.

I decided today to give myself January. My bestest birthday and xmas present to myself. As much as needed, during this month, Im allowed to mope, bitch, cry, all that, no holding back. Its ok.
Come February Im living somewhere on my own, am being most happy for all my friends and am succeeding in school, because of my international wit. Awesome.

Ive never wanted you more

Its true. And as it should be, there's nothing I can do about it, part from pining away at work.

I crave it, I long for it, I daze off in vivid dreams about it. When I do, I can almost feel the keys under my fingers, the strange light from the screen on my face, as if it was the only sun I know during winter. Which, of course, is close to true.



I guess thats why I miss blogging so much, Ive been racing to close to the boundries of honesty land.

Here, everyone speaks their mind. Short, heart-felt injections of their reactions to your actions all the time. O-rama.

And I am forced to do the same. The realisation of my nature being a bad one, a defect one, wasnt the lightbulb moment I wouldve hoped, but a crawling chill rather. So I adjusted - No, I changed - I "worked on it"? - Fuck you, I was easily swayed by the idea of Mine being something Broken. And so I agreed. To adjust. I bought into the myth of ... Of a lot of things.



And you know, when theres so much else going on. Who are we kidding, there's always so much else going on.
But when youre trying to do these things you know are right, you know? The studies, the togetherness. All those things Im so brilliantly horrible at. And everything you touch turn to shit. To be continued.

disclaimer

"I am not under any orders to make the world a better place."
He said, and I mightve believed him, as I do when someone seems sure enough.
Truth be told, I was knocked out by CNN, had to clean the entire apartment while listening to Bob Dylan, really loud to block out any evil that might venture thru the open windows.

My sentences are broken after leaving all the important ones on my desktop, but if I keep seeing them as NP+PP etc, I might even be able to put something coherent here, or atleast, linear.

...
Nah, fuggit. Let the chaos of my high octane mind run out here as well, I like you now, and with less people to juvenile-shly impress, knowing there'll be alcohol two days straight, free flow.

Ill be running a drunken experiment on pownce tonight, hopefully if bf doesnt get in the way, and other than that Im twittering less than I want to, its called selfcontrol.
Other than that that, Im hoping Ill be able to put up a proper design here alt. move this to somewhere I can. I need pictures in here, otherwise the thoughts wont fit, theyre like windows, see? Im working on it, but like with everything regarding the homesituation, things are moving slow.

For the record, I am also working literally everyday. Every. Day.

"What happened is that um, I kinda got this arcane glimpse of the universe and the best thing I can say about that is... I don't know. "