THICK SHAKE

23:12

COLD DRINK:

Walking up the hill from the bus stop, head turned 15 degrees off Z axis to have the widest useful viewing cone. Peripherally, I see two walkers coming down my side of the street, spaced widely enough that their presence covers the entire width of the sidewalk. As the distance closes, I confine myself to the right half of the sidewalk. Rightmost walker does not alter course or formation. As proximity increases, I realize that I am being set up for a shoulder-shove. As right walker pulls shoulder back to have a longer wind up, I take one half stride left and smash into him, head-to-face. My hissing, hiccuping laughter accompanies us both to the pavement. His blood is sticking my hair to my face.

Well, actually I stepped the other way. It is, after all, important to assert your volumetric superiority when possible. My current philosophy is that physical injury is the thing I least like to see in real life, so I avoid creating it in myself or others. Another way of thinking is to never compromise your self respect, take any possible affront. Kind of a moke way of thinking, but I see the point. A guy I knew in Hawaii, Bronson, was like that. He would have stepped into the way. He got beat up a lot.

My house now has in it some documents on government cryptography tools, for encrypting and decrypting ATM traffic in realtime. I do worry about the privacy of my network transmissions, because I've intercepted them (as part of my security education) and I know how mind blowingly easy it is to get into anything, if people don't use encrypted sessions. As a result, I don't use telnet anymore. I use a secure shell protocol when logging in anywhere, and everything I type is scrambled such that it would take a long time for a private individual to decode (maybe a couple hours for a government. Okay, maybe ten minutes.) so all my stuff is... Byeah.

Starting to get a little bit of mania back. Nursing it along.

Woop woop! Chicks! Money! Power! Cars! Being a badass! Being envied!

Chicks? Well, women. Any problem I've ever had with women wasn't something that only women do, I guess. How nostalgic I feel for lying curled into a "S" underneath my bed, tight throated, feeling disemboweled because she had left. Will that ever happen again? Not until I buy a bed to hide under, at least. Ah, I'm even insensitive to my own feelings. There's another little stumbling block.

Money? I have money. I will probably have money for the rest of my life. I don't worry about money anymore.

Power? Cars? Being a badass? I don't want to publicly admit to wanting these things. So why did I? Cause I do, though I can't quite articulate a good reason for doing so. I'm assembling some more pride, I guess.

Being envied? ... Whenever I find out something wishes they were like me in some way, I feel elated and ill and already obsolete and dead (but happy). And then I wonder if it is true that just about anyone could do just about anything I do. If so, I better get cracking on everything. It's so.

crack! crack! crack! crack! crack!

So, you unsubscribed from diary-bigot-L, huh? Well I left OPEN PAGES, ha! -- shrimp flavored idiot