3rd Try

''Like I careUser:Serprex 01:43, August 15, 2011 (UTC)

This is my third attempt at writing something since last I wrote something

First I took to takes at 9 lives. It'd be about this guy who dies nine times. He'd grow more and more pissed off with each iteration. To the point that he's like a psycho killer and everything. Opening lines: Look down. See note. It reads: Look up. I had it going on with two word steps for quite awhile. But I was struggling enough with how to tame it, nevermind how to constrain the language

Then I decided I wanted to write something called Table of Contents. Essentially the chapter names would be rather descriptive. I came up with 4: Everything is happy; Now I'm sad; I've made everything sad like me; Now I'm happy. This not including the fluff like Foreword, Preface, Introduction, Intermission, Conclusion, Author's note, etc. The tagline would be a dedication: ''For me, my most faithful reader, sternest critic, & patient friend

A couple years ago I started painting. They're awful paintings. On the back, at first, I'd write. One such line: He was his only critic. It made at least one other person laugh

I've been wanting to write lyrically, but it's too sparse a medium

What this's about: I seem incapable of writing consecutive clear minded pieces. Any attempt has me playing too much with structure. Until I write one of these awful things

Here's to my first use of this's. Does that even work? Like I care

It's surprising how fast a martini glass can be swallowed

Thoughts which drift about taunting me to write: Recursion. As always. I've recognized that for awhile I began to drift into a dogma of rejecting dogma and such. My skepticism must remain skeptical of itself. I figure this will eventually be sorted out in my mind so that eventually I'll have to practically be skeptical of the next iteration of skepticism I take up. Which gets into the future injecting itself into the past. It's also an underlining that the enlightenment in life isn't to be found in the phases we take up, but in transitioning between phases

& Life carries plot. That quote gets into another idea. It roots from my opinion that music should have plot. I view Sufjan's Impossible Soul as having plot. Life is big and messy. It doesn't have the kind of plot that can fit into anything else. Anything that tries and captures the full berth of life is futile. Or so the thought goes

Here's to my use of the word berth

Impossible Soul's plot: I first mentioned this in relating to enjoying some factor of music in a literary sense compared to the emotional sense. This would've been around August 4th. I'll quote myself: Her taste in music changes with concerts. Phases. She was listening to plenty of Silence of Sirens throughout. I happened to be in a slight phase myself of listening to Sufjan's Impossible Soul. With its length its [sic] able to build the atmosphere of proper plot without carrying a clear narrative. The closest thing I've found to it in the past is of Montreal's The Past Is a Grotesque Animal. But she's funny in that she takes her phases so personally. She finds that Silence of Sirens's lyrics relate completely to her and all that cal. Same logic as horoscopes

the interesting thing is the last three minutes. It's an essential component. C'est dénouement. Maybe it's even the said "Yeah" after climax. Life goes on. Similar traits found in Plastis Wafers

Beginning, middle, end. But ends go to beginnings

Here's to sic

That's another idea: the recognition of the minute. That's what the Here'ss are about. It's to reply "I have nothing to say to what you've said, but I am replying because I want you to know: You're right. Thank you"

I was talking in a bus stop at midnight last night. At one point I was given evidence to support self constructed reality through conscious intent. I am completely opposed to this idea. But I could only nod my head and smile. & not in a degrading way. It was a smile where I gave off a chuckle to show how lost I was to opposition

I later explained it with system theory: the possibilities of our future are dispersed throughout our reality. It's when we step back and let heuristics highlight these potential realities without knowing the entire scope of the information entropy pool we're drowning in that we're able to sway probabilities and have reality appear to follow our intent. The smallest things trigger so much. This relates to how they happened to pick the right ad to look into. We're surrounded by so many ads everyday. This also relates to my knowledge: we're surrounded by random information everyday. I happen to remember more than less. Hilarious how my ninth grade science teacher was set off when he mentioned absolute zero to another student and I was able to supply the value of negative two hundred and seventy three point fifteen degrees Celsius. He asked "How'd you know that?" and I could only shrug before he'd moved on. It probably says more of his low regard of me than the point I'm trying to make. But he was strong and biology and openly confessed to having an awful memory. I have trouble working with those high work energy types

I'm naturally ethical. Thus people are set off when they realize how little I care about being ethical. Thus do I contradict so often, going from being nice to doing some oddly rude thing

Back to transitions. It's while the mind is still astir that one's actions are viewed as genuine. People look down so much on intentional luck. Back to probabilities. How likely are they to cheat? That probability implies so many more. Information transformations. Recent discussion had me explain a transform on instruction layout allowing for more compression. To note: both forms of the data are equally compressible. One just happens to compress more given one method than the other. Efficient extraction of information. Information can't exceed the speed of light, but I'm unaware of any limit on the bandwidth. Only latency. Also with understanding: compressible data is not random. But perfect compression requires intelligence. It requires the kind of thinking that can look at a stream of bits whipped about by a Mersenne twister and instead of compressing it raw, generate a Mersenne twister and feed it the 19968 bits of initial state

I never explained: a perspective of reality: we have our own perceived reality, but the reality outside of our consciousness is the information entropy which feeds in through our perception. Very much based on my opinion that I'm not original enough to imagine this reality. Solipsism to shame

Here's to Solipsism. That should almost be the obligatory for lonely Here'ss