
Nature Can Also BEE Terrifying

Filed under Microblogging, My Life
The Past Is for the Future
What good are memories that only hold you back? The purpose of a memory is to inform you now, enrich you here, inspire you today; yesterday is a mere brick in the wall of the present, the house you live in.
To reminisce on the past is to be shaped by it. Are you taking the shape you desire? If your history leaves you misshapen, create a better one: tell yourself the story that has the happy ending. If a wall no longer serves your purpose, tear it down and lay the bricks anew–and if some are cracked or crumbling or toxic with rot, why keep them?
Forgetting is death, and death is scary–but not all death is bad. It’s no tragedy when life is lost, if that life is a malignant cancer; it is no real loss to lose a memory that’s only weighing you down.
Filed under Essays, Microblogging
The Mortifying Ordeal of Being an Introvert Who Craves Attention
How the heck do I reconcile being exhausted by social interaction with feeling like I’ve got frickin’ superpowers when someone shows an interest in me?
Y’all got any pointers?
Filed under Microblogging
A List of My Favorite Integers
I know, I know, it’s the sexiest title you’ve read all year, but please keep your undies on. We’re in public.
- 0 and 1 – Zero and one aren’t actually on my list of favorites, but I have to give them respect for essentially making all other numbers possible (and also out of professional obligation as a programmer).
- 2 – Two is such an underrated number. It seems so plain and innocuous, but it does so much! It’s the first prime number, the base (binary) that makes computers possible, and the smallest whole number that makes possible multiplication, exponentiation, logarithms, and rationals! It’s small but mighty; if it were a character in a fantasy novel, I think it would be a dwarf.
- 3 – Not a huge fan of three, but I really like multiples of three? I don’t know, man. I didn’t build this head, I just live in it.
- 9 – Nine! Oh man, I love nine. It sort of seems like it should be prime, but it’s a perfect square! Kind of goth–like, at first it looks like it might murder you in your sleep, but then you get to know it and realize it’s actually really sweet. (Four is a square number too, but four is suuuuper boring. A square of nine has that nice little dot in the center–so much more aesthetically pleasing.) Nine is probably my favorite number overall.
- 12 – Twelve has the charming, sophisticated air of someone with a lot of practice at being modest because they know they have a lot to be modest about. It has a lot of factors, so it makes an excellent base! You can divide it evenly by two, three, four, and six. Much more sensible than base-ten, which only has five and two as factors. It’s not just some math-nerd hypothetical, either: we actually use base twelve! Take a closer look at the next clock you see, or the next carton of eggs you buy.
- 13 – Thirteen is considered unlucky in some cultures, but I think it’s handsome. So close to the extra-factorizeable twelve, yet it’s prime! Very chic.
- 21 – Another one of those numbers that seems like it ought to be prime, but isn’t. I don’t care much for seven on its own, but when you combine it with three you get some interesting results.
- 27 – The first cube after the mediocre eight; nine extended into the third dimension. Seductive, strong, complex but understated. Kind of reminds me of my spouse. I think if twenty seven were a person it would probably be non-binary and pansexual, too.
- 60 – Sixty is that really fit, smart friend that everyone loves, and they’re sometimes a dick about it, but if you need their help they’ll show up without fail. It has even more factors than twelve! Sixty is probably the number base that super-intelligent space aliens would use. Just look at all the different ways you can slice this bad boy up: two, three, four, five, six, ten, twelve, fifteen, twenty, and thirty! Man, I’m getting hot just thinking about it. Oh, and in case you think this is another example of some obscure math nonsense that no one will ever use in real life? Take a second look at that clock…
- 64 – Eight may be mediocre, but it gets a major glow-up when you square it. Sixty four is a little hyperactive, but in kind of an endearing way, like a dog. It just has a big heart, you know? (Personally, I think all the powers of two seem a little hyper. Like they’re constantly bouncing up and down on their toes, barely containing their urge to show off just how extra even they are. “Look, look! You can divide me in half eight times!” Sixty four is big enough to know it could show off, but small enough to be modest and without the inferiority complex of poor thirty two.)
- 101 – Ahh, just look at it. So nice and symmetrical. And it’s prime! A lot like eleven, which almost made this list, but one-oh-one beats it out for mostly the same reason that nine is better than four and twenty seven is better than eight. There’s just something a little unsatisfying to me about a symmetry that pivots around an absence. I much prefer when there’s a thing in the middle.
- 111 – Cute but weird, like a pug. Has the same nice symmetry as one hundred and one, plus it’s a pleasant repeated digit, and it’s another number that really seems like it should be prime, but isn’t. But then for some reason its factors are three and thirty seven–blech! Somehow that ugly, bizarro combination comes out super cute?
There aren’t many numbers bigger than one-eleven that stand out to me in particular, so I guess that’s it. Oh, wait! I almost forgot:
- 69 – LOL
Unbuffer
Well, my buffer is almost completely gone. On the other hand, I’m depressed! Wait, that’s not right. Let me try again:
I’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is, my buffer’s gone. The good news is, there’s no good news. The–wait, shoot, that doesn’t work either.
How about this: I’m depressed, my buffer’s gone, the world’s ending, and I just made it through a really difficult ordeal. But at least I’m not proud of myself!
Hmm, still not quite right…
Okay, here we go: I’m depressed, falling behind at work, my buffer’s gone, my country is being turned into a dictatorship, my family’s risk of extermination rises with each passing day, AGI could arrive and turn the planet into goo any minute and people are wringing their hands over whether they’ll still have their jobs, and I’ve just made it through a very painful experience that I should feel proud of myself for facing, but I don’t.
HOWEVER.
I know IĀ will be proud of myself someday.
I’m going to keep seeking–and spreading–as much joy as I can, right up until the last minute, whether that’s tomorrow or ten thousand years from now.
I’m going to keep fighting the fire even if it’s the whole world burning.
And although my buffer’s nearly gone, I’m still going to write. Even though it’s hard and everything I write sucks, I’ll still put something up here every day. And you know what? That’s something I do feel proud of.
And you know what else? I’ve realized that sometimes your garbage isn’t the things you create–sometimes it’s the things you do, the choices you make. But the good news (for real this time) is that your practice there will help you improve, too. If you’re feeling down on yourself for making a mistake, or if you took a risk and it backfired, remember this: the opposite of success isn’t failure, it’s giving up. The risks you paid the price for, the mistakes you’re ashamed to remember, the efforts that weren’t enough–you can’t get stronger without them. That doesn’t mean a stronger you will stop making mistakes or being hurt–quite the opposite! But without those failures, you’ll never grow.

Oh, and one more thing: if all that’s not enough to help you feel proud of yourself, I’m proud of you. Even if you don’t think your effort was worth any praise. Even if the results were lackluster. Even if it was a disaster! I’m proud of you for trying, and I know that even if you can’t imagine it now, you’ll choose to try again.
And so will I.
Why Am I Like This, pt. II
Me: *keymashing*
Text: “g;dkg;sfsjklf”
Me: hmmmmm
Me: *typing carefully*
Text: “hg;dkga;sfsjklf”
Me: That’s better.
Filed under Microblogging
It Has Its Points
An 80-minute commute is no picnic, but I certainly can’t complain about the view…

Filed under Microblogging, My Life
Absent Mind
Getting real sick of feeling like a shell. Not empty, exactly: all my parts are still here, still have weight and feeling and motion and thought. It’s just that I’ve gone missing.
When the lights are on, but nobody’s home, is there a word for how the home feels?
Filed under Microblogging, My Life, Poetry

