That is my principal objection to life, I think; It’s too easy, when alive, to make perfectly horrible mistakes

So, yes, I’ll quote Vonnegut in a title. I’ve not kept up on the ‘blogging daily’ promise, but I’m endeavoring to try. A few mostly-written blogs went missing when I let the battery on my Powerbook expire, which is unfortunate. Why is it that Blogger doesn’t automatically save drafts ala Gmail? Granted, there were no particular epiphanies lost, but my state of mind at the time has gone missing. Daily espousals of my thoughts should be easy enough, but I find that I desire to maintain a certain level of form. Ideally, I’d like to communicate an idea with each blog. The whole paper-writing mindset. Establish a thesis in the first paragraph, supporting arguments in subsequent ones until I’m spent. None of you really want to hear what I do with my time apart from you, and a modicum of taste is maintained. Were I to expound upon my daily vitiations, a necessary facet of life would be irredeemably lost.

It’s not that I’m some kind of hedonist lasciviously flitting from vice to vice, but that some things are better kept out of the ‘Google me’ realm of information about myself. Do I want prospective employers/dates/whathaveyou to know about $thing? Well… I’m of the attitude if they’re apprehensive with regards to activities which I may or may not have engaged it, then any future is a moot point. Everybody makes poor choices at times, and I’m no exception. Little point in hiding it save to protect somebody else, but opportunities may be lost should the vagaries of my existence appear to reprehensible. Should anybody be truly interested in watching my fulminating tirades, primarily on the topic of my social life, they’re welcome to. People shall infer what they will, and I may allude to events, but naught shall be made plain.

It’s clear that nothing I write is going to convey a depth of emotion nor elucidate whatever may lie beneath the surface. It’s been done before (though the record has since been purged), but I can’t picture a repeat occurrence without a catastrophic event in my life, and that’s not likely. In the intervening time, a support network of sorts has been more clearly established. I’m not sure that a single person counts as a network, but at least there’s somebody who’s seen me stripped bare (figuratively in this context). The others do not live here, so all is promulgated without them being physically present. Presumably, whatever proverbial wall I careen into next will not so intimately involve them, but the future is ever-unknown.

Given the infrequency of my blogging for the last week, I’m going to forsake the aforementioned commitment to a definitive subject for each. I’m inevitably going to run out of things I’m up in arms about at some point anyway, so I’ll leave that ambition by the wayside. If it happens, it happens, and no loss if not.

I find that I’m increasingly aligned with an archetype which at least nominally includes 1/12th of the population. There’s a certain camaraderie among us all — a willingness to discard with established propriety if it’s exciting. The doldrums of life are far too mundane. Still, at what point did I decide it might be fun to check compatibility with others based upon this factor alone? As an aside, it seems that virtually none of the usual websites give me very good odds other than with an Aries, and I know none of them. It’s libelous to imply that I’m prone to infidelity and promiscuity merely because I think sex is an important part of a relationship. There are other factors to consider as well, and I’m not about to forsake or jeopardize that merely for a good time. Why am I a quintessential Sagittarius? Frivolous, magnanimous (maybe not), perpetually happy, and difficult to tie down? Nobody wants to feel tied down or constrained. The ‘right relationship’ shouldn’t make one feel that way anyway.

I’m not on some kind of quest for that, either. If it happens, fantastic; if I’m single in 10 years, that’s great too. I find myself given to inappropriate dreams about unexpected people lately. Life has been reminiscent of some Wagnerian tale of late, and it’s affecting me. This is worth noting since very little actually gets to me. There’s no overt knowledge of this, though I can tell I’m superficially adapting to the new dynamic. It’s been a long time since anything noteworthy enough for my brain to process nightly whilst I sleep has occurred. Sporadic dreams? Those are normal enough. Every day? Now that’s something. I only wish I knew what it were…

I still need a domain name to be selected for me, as I’m too busy learning how to properly use an ibrik to feed my encroaching addiction to coffee. If a thing’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right. Turkish/Arabic brewing is the ideal, and I’m willing to put in another investment of time.

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