well this is post #2. it’s being written near the end of 2025. I just celebrated Christmas with fam. the 1st Christmas w/o dad being here. he passed in Oct, Oct 25 was the day. it was a sad, hard time for me. this is the best description of me emotionally at that time

I write in ghostwriter, which is the best free alternative to IA Writer which was my usual writing tool. but I also happen to love obsidian + kinopio also. I’ve relinquished MacOS + Windoze, and am using Archcraft now (a variant of Arch Linux). I’m not going to lie and say its the best OS but visually it’s a sexy lady whose good at sexytime. I couldn’t abide the windoze + MacOS worlds they were too artless, and annoying also. my particulars are more minimalistic now. this is more me, for now. I’m in a deep cyberpunk way whereas, make due with whatever tech you can salvage, cannibalize, and modify and pray it remains functioning for as long as you can make it. if there only was such a thing as an OS which was fully performant, beautiful and robust as Archcraft. or if ubuntucraft actually worked that would’ve been kick ass (it didn’t).

boldly going there

I’ve been trying to chart out a lengthy list of worthy sites, spaces, etc in which to foray, explore, engage with, interact. there’s one thing I’ve found to be quite true: there are a few communities which are populated with kids trying to ressurect a dying aesthetic: the geocities of Neocities, but most of these fail miserably b/c they just do, they can’t capture the soul of it very well. neither do I wish to be sucked into the great expanse of anti-social media with its toxicity levels being through the roof. we need new ones, better ones, ones that don’t become infested with parasites (scam artists), hacks, charlatans, influencers, shitheels, fakes, undesirables or narcissists. tall order, almost too tall for cyberspace. I don’t seek perfection, only: normal normal stability. look, people don’t want to co-exist, mingle, communicate, or be happy that much is obvious. they want to rise to broadcast depth, tell everybody how right they are about all the stupid, kookie shit they’ve dredged up and then disappear for awhile. they’re also too damned terrified of being exposed, being mocked, being ridiculed by a bunch of strangers thinking the same. fear governs these types, and thus everybody has a target on their backs by the appropriate police, by naysayers, haters, Karens, wankers, whatever. and nowhere in this type of contaminated, corrupt milleiu is there room for others who simply seek a wee bit notice, a wee bit attention span theater of the mind to make a diff however miniscule, or get a message out to their friends + foes, their neighbors or strangers. or maybe that cute Hooters waitress down the street, or the hallway milf that purposely opens the door when she hears me stalking the hall, scantily clad and all dolled up too with intentional wardrobe malfunction and a drink in hand.

Christmas report

so I got the usual: gift cards. sister #2 makes an announcement: a new tradition, we’re not exchanging gifts apparently next Christmas. why are the richest the most dastardly cheap? anyways, that they are. and I’ve discovered that people with less were profoundly more generous. the wealthier mortals became, the wierder, and they themselves oblivious to it. because they became paranoid, guilt ridden, wracked with suspicion and scorn, and even envy. as in enviably liquid people insecure around others who might either be equal to, or a step above themselves make no mistake. easily afflicted by an incurable madness that drove them further from reality, and they operated in that madness which corrupted their souls. yet for all material excess, there are so few who would buy that Mexican madre’s groceries, her and her 4 children. or tip a Hooters waitress $20 like just because, or whatever you get the point. we don’t do charitable acts unless its televised + sure to grab likes, followers, and idiots who think shits real. one thing I’ve learned, and will always learn is good stewardship over finances. my dad was one of the wealthiest men I knew, and one of the cheapest: for himself. he was one of the most generous at times, especially when required and sometimes, unasked for.