Been lurking through the collection of my notes between five to ten years ago. Noticed an interesting pattern: many of low-quality texts, and very little something of a value.
I’ve been inventing the system, which would eventually become what I’m having right now. So, perhaps, not that it was all in vain. I’ve been hyper focused on this task of writing things down, I tried to write down everything I could, sometimes absurdly uninteresting routine. The notes did work as placeholders for ‘one day I’d be writing something more meaningful’ idea…
But still, for some mysterious reason, I missed to write something more meaningful. Five to ten years ago was a very busy timeframe for me. So, perhaps… I simply didn’t have any energy for that. Noting down something trivial is easy, making an effort to write something more meaningful… that’s difficult.
Today Solomia informed me football players have no 12 number for the players, as there are always 11 players. And the 12th is the public, as without the public there’s no reason to play.
Sounds pretty nice.
I thought there’s similar effect to writing: it’s truly difficult to combine some thoughts when you know nobody would ever read you. I myself would read me, that’s for sure. But that’s just … still different.
Now, I expect I’d have more motivation to write. Over the last few years, I’ve been successfully collecting Hnat’s phrases. All of them are in our private family blog, but I think I’d transfer / duplicate some of them here, over time. At least those that would be easy to adapt. As most of them is the internal humour, which is a non-transferable asset. And hence, there’s no point in doing so.
I’m not yet decided on what to do to those texts: remove them or not, but I think of making them smaller by disposing some irrelevant metadata and keep them. My next steps for this blog would be making some kind of a cookbook / meals planner, which would involve me collecting things I’d like to eat and are easy to cook. And I have some old records of my meals. They look meaningless from the outside, but actually they’re very telling to me. Was surprised to reread the amount of effort I did while living with that fucking bitch who gave birth to my wife. The degenerate’s home is mostly full of things you don’t want to eat or drink (hello, Coca fucking Cola), if you want to live a healthy life.
I’m still making that tremendous effort, as my wife keeps bringing home all kinds of shit. Which is junk food.
But that’s a story for another time. I have a collection of texts over various topics, and I regret I didn’t come up with this idea of uniting them with blogs. Keeping a blog is a very thankful practice, even if the readers are non-existent. It’s fun to actually lurk around my own very old texts.
Sometimes, I can find something I’m doing or about to do, and be like: holy fucking shit, I’ve been about to do that seven years ago?! Still in progress?!
Well, the kids happened. And playing with my servers wasn’t a priority. And today I understand very well the things I only intended to learn back then.
So, all this makes various effects on me. It’s a practice worth having. That’s for sure.