It's been an amazing year so far, and I just had the best 3 day birthday.

Hopefully I can wake up and remember enough to write about it.

Damn. Today was a good day.

24

Damn.

I'm chilling here in my obliterated state, and I don't know what to say.

Shit is so different though, it's crazy. It's like the exact opposite of last year, I can't contain the giddy-ness.

Man.

I need to do this again later, there's just too much going on.

I actually just witnessed and somehow even involuntarily participated in a "friendly," and unintentional DDoS attack on a website that was recently discovered and is on the frontpage of Reddit right now.

Technology and the connected world. I mean, damn, this shit is barnacles, huh?

There's also suggestions in the comments section of the thread about calling it things, but they revolve around the hive mentality of Reddit that kind of creeps me out.

This isn't the first time this has happened, though. I've seen servers crumble under the weight of a collective all trying to access the same website simultaneously before.

It's funny, because in a "normal," everyday situation you would only expect a server to fail or not come through when the website isn't popular enough, and therefore not funded sufficiently.

However, in this case, it's popularity that causes the server to break down in a metaphorical tired sweat.

The subject page, by the way, is: Diy.org/skills

It's a step closer to turning our lives into a "RPG." That's "role playing game," in case you haven't been keeping up with the video game industry.

Reminds me of this surreal short film I saw on YouTube some time ago about a technologically advanced world some time in the future. I'm conflicted as to whether or not to call it a dystopian future, but consider the fact that we're constantly connected to the internet in our brains.

Let me elaborate a bit. Have you heard of Google Glass yet? It's basically a pair of shades that provide the wearer with a HUD. I've just realized I don't know if there's internet connectivity, but I can see 3G or at least WiFi being a part of the experience. I mean, definitely, considering you will be able to upload pictures that you've taken using the glass on to, well, some picture service provided by Google, I'm assuming at this point.

But in this short film, there's no accessory on your face, the HUD is all part of your vision. Something embedded in the brain, on the lens of the human eye? I'm not sure, but the point was, everything turns into a game.

While you're chopping vegetables and making eggs, there's an experience meter filling up right in front of your eyes. You're getting better at things in real time, like it always was, but this time you're witnessing the growth or rate of change, as it is taking place.

You are literally witnessing "experience," as you gain it.

Talk about shit that is barnacles.

This doesn't just range to sliding an egg around on a frying pan, or "consuming media," (also see; watching television,) while staring at a blank wall. This also encompasses such fields as relationships/dating, and other social interactions. You have at your disposal the handy "wingman," app that you can pull up and run while you're sitting across the table from your date. So you know exactly what to say, and when to say it.

You can pull up your date's "social networking" website's "profile page," and figure out all his or her likes and dislikes.

The funny thing about most of this is, it isn't even far from the truth or the present human experience. Life, this one, in the present.

The only brilliant thing is, they've taken the metaphorical "dating game," and portrayed the idea as more concrete, more literal.

You tell me whether that's dystopian or not.

I can not remember what the short film was called, and as kind of a cruel game I'm not even going to attempt to look it up to link to it here. I'm not about that life right now.

Will life ever be as good as it once was?

Will I ever stop living in the past, worrying about the future, and start appreciating the present?

Will I ever accept things and just move on?

All this and more, in the life of daanish.

Fuck, I need to get out of this rut.

Let's talk music because somehow I can describe how I've been feeling very well using it.

I was never a big fan of Radiohead, but then I heard this jazz cover of "Paranoid Android," by Brad Mehldau. Replacing the vocals with a piano adds to the overall haunting feel of the song, and I actually prefer it over the original.

Especially after the 5:20 mark, when the music has slowed down as if to implore you to pay more attention.

"Baby, say you'll remember...
I will love you till the end of time."

This song sends a shiver down my spine. Injects me with a dose of melancholy, too, but I don't mind.

About walking out on the dream/out of the door, and the Late 70s', early 80s' for some odd reason. "Blue Jeans," right? About cigarettes and white tshirts and black thick rimmed sunglasses.

About being young and in love, and the first brush with it. About making so many mistakes you can only ask yourself how you could be so, "young and foolish."

Aah. About willing to risk it all and not look back, never ever.

About going all in, and willing to put everything on the line. Being careless by design, experiencing being free, trying to explore the limit, willing to be ... reckless.

Aah. About making so many mistakes, that you'll never make again.

It just can't happen, you just can't let it happen. You now know better.

Somehow, that takes the magic of it away, too though. Doesn't it?

The magic that was bundled with not knowing how any of it actually worked, or what exactly was going to happen. The thrill of that, the rush.

Growing up makes us make more concrete decisions, look further ahead on the field. Because we've already made all the fun mistakes, we've learned how to be more careful.

I am going to miss being careless.

I'm turning 24 soon, and these are the kind of things I've got to say for myself, still. Ha.

Bluebird, Charles Bukowski

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?

Variations on the word "Sleep," Margaret Atwood

I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head 

and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear 

I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and you enter
it as easily as breathing in

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

Nothing Gold can Stay, Robert Frost

 Nature's first green is gold,
 Her hardest hue to hold.
 Her early leafs a flower;
 But only so an hour.
 Then leaf subsides to leaf.
 So Eden sank to grief,
 So dawn goes down to day.
 Nothing gold can stay.

So I go on asking if maybe one day you’ll care.
I tell my sad little dreams to the soft evening air.
I am quite hopeless it seems.
Two things I know how to do.
One is to dream,
Two is loving you.