We'll always be together in eclectic dreams

Virtual gut-spilling. (another meme stolen from Racine)
Ask me anything (e.g., that something you've always been wondering about me, or just some other question you've always been meaning to ask but somehow have never gotten around to), and I'll give it to you as straight as I can. Just send me a PM either through Multiply or LJ or email me at [my username]@gmail.com, and I'll reply via the same route. 

Another meme! (Tagged by Racine)
a. List seven habits/quirks/facts about yourself.
b. Tag seven people to do the same.
c. Do not tag the person who tagged you or say that you tag "whoever wants to do it."

1. I keep my Gmail and Google Reader tabs open all the time in Firefox. I check them, along with various friends pages, every so often whenever I'm online for extended periods of time, provided I'm not concentrating on anything in particular.

2. I have a rather high tolerance to alcohol (as several people could attest to :P).

3. I guess I can be rather uptight at times, in the sense of overly worrying whenever things don't go exactly as I planned, or about not keeping above a certain threshold of productivity, and things like that. I'm guessing that I seem rather carefree to most people, but I'm not like that all the time.

4. Given #3, I can still be amazingly lazy at times. It's a crazy pendulum, which I have yet to really set at equilibrium, i.e., my balancing skills are still somewhat lacking, but improving.

5. I keep an "organizer" of sorts in the form of 3"x5" index cards held together by a small black binder clip. What it actually is is just a collection of daily to-do lists/reminders that only stretch for a week in advance, at maximum. I've been meaning to rethink its organization to make it a bit more useful, but haven't gotten around to doing so yet.

6. I sometimes snore, a little, I hear from people. But not overly loudly..

7. I love playing RPGs, usually old console ones. I'm no judge of game greatness, I just know what I enjoy playing, even if people might see some of these games as rather flat, repetitive, or boring. I shrug and continue suspending my disbelief of these tiny video game worlds, if only for just enough time to finish with them and move on to the next, until it's over.

Now, because I'm lazy and can't be bothered to come up with seven names and am not sure there are that many people who'll read this anyway, I tag everyone who reads this sentence. Yes, you. Tell us your secretsess.

Because I was amused:
Comment on this post and...

1. I'll respond with something random about you.
2. I'll tell you what song/movie reminds me of you.
3. I'll pick a flavor of jello to wrestle with you in.
4. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me.
5. I'll tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.
8. If I do this for you, consider posting this on your journal, to contribute to the meme-pool!

Fill out my Johari window please! Thanks. (In case you're not familiar with it, you'll just have to pick five or six adjectives out of a grid that you think are applicable to me. Fairly quick and easy.)

I'm interested in seeing how different people see me right now. I guess I'm realizing again that people don't always (almost never?) see the same person that I see myself as.

(LJ people: yeah, yeah, this blog is supposed to be dead, but allow me just this one post. I'll take any publicity I can get, in the interests of this, um, survey.)


Psst. The owner of this blog is moving. He says that he would like to see you there, even if he really doesn't, you all being as slippery as peripheral vision. He says he doesn't mind, except that maybe you could leave some signs, sometimes? He gets awful lonely, but he says it's not your fault. (He says a lot of things.) In any case, here he is, and will be.

I'm in your blanks, blanking your blanks.

Spent most of the day learning LaTeX (wiki), a sort of programming language for formatting documents, invaluable for equations and the like. Will probably be what I will be writing thesis on, when it comes to that. Encoded a pretty long problem set solution, felt accomplished, but used up most of day.

Next should learn Maple or Mathematica, which are mathematics software that people at Theory also use a lot.

Other news, hmm. Discovered hanjie, or griddlers, which are basically "paint by numbers" logic puzzles where you shade boxes based on some numbers provided as clues. Hard to explain, but is fun. Try Googling. Whee.

Hello, world

There's something oppressive about entering the text of my entries into this (Tabulas) form. Perhaps it is the sameness, or the very slight gray of the background, or the closeness of each line of text to the next, or any number of things, but there it is. Sometimes it seems comforting to have a history, sometimes just nostalgic, disappointing.

The last few times I've blogged, I keep wanting to revamp my layout or even transfer to a new host, but I haven't yet drummed up enough motivation. It seems like a lot of work for something that I don't use that often anymore, anyway.

I don't think it's because I've outgrown blogging, but that I seem to be veering away from the person I used to be. I don't have that much free time anymore, it seems, to spend on bumming around on the Internet or tweaking a blog entry or hunting around for old games and new songs.

If this is the new me, it will be a student who tries to be more conscientious, a freelance creator of Internet article drivel, less shy a speaker, a young man trying to lose the last of his baby fat and slowly (perhaps) succeeding.

In other words (the words of another man): I am drawing nearer to the world.

Stopping by for a bit, bye!

Press any key.


A proposition made in dead of night.
A climb, a hand touching another caked with rust,
breaking away, the fall and the farewell
to the deep and narrow streets.

Another made in sun, in summer heat.
The sweaty palms that almost missed each other,
the heat of body, the heat of the skin,
the flushing heat of ruddy cheeks.

Under the rain, soaked to the bone.
Gray watery murmurings, an unopened umbrella,
wet fingers, wet hair, dripping faces
falling to the ground, eyes blinking, steady.

The blinding light, the shivering, the thirst.
The eyes do not see more. The skin in goosebumps.
The mouth must not open, must not hold more.


Even to a child, walls are comforting.

Outside are the mermaid, the pillars of salt,
the dryness, the unsleeping leviathan,
the prophets and their bellies of fish.

Inside are shivering small hands and fingers.

Even to a child, words are for wishes,
wishes are for wings, wings are for flapping
sand into walls into sky.

Outside is more sand. Less walls.

Inside, the sands are running out,
falling through small fingers
flying away from small hands


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