Today is the first day in a few epochs that I've awoke without a headache, however slight. My final conclusion is carbohydrate intake within a certain number hours before going to sleep and slowing my metabolism. My main crime is eating something in bed before retiring. Pistachios are culpable. They will be banished. Yesterday's experiment, which I shall repeat today, that resulted in a morning without a dull, cerebral ache, involved having NOTHING to eat at all after approximately 15.40 except for the las...
I have an empty cup that used to contain tea sitting before me. It was Earl Grey. The confusion before the word / preposition _before_ is astounding. Before it irks me further, I'll expound, as it was fucking with my development of _Lakife_. In English, _before_ can mean temporally in the immediate past of whatever temporal theme is being discussed. It can also mean _spatially_ immediately to the front. This ambiguity is not amusing to me. It is an abomination. My solution for Lakife is to clarify the diff...
What I have come to think of as the _oblivious nature of the Spanish_ or simply the _Spanish behaviour_, just occurred outside my apartment, in the stub of a corridor, in front and partially inside of the lift. That last bit is very important. Our new neighbour, whose name is Juanco or somesuch, stood in the stub of the corridor speaking to another human who stood partially in and partially out of the lift. This latter human was therefore blocking the lift and preventing anyone else in the building from usi...
Speaking of Michael Achenbach, I should attempt to look him up. My first question to him will be _Did you ever get around to making your own music?_ He was the _intuitive_ type, musically, though he studied to be a mechanical or electrical or some other sort of engineer. He'd pick up a stringed instrument and it just made sense to him. Though, admittedly, I did hear him spending long hours practising in his disheveled hovel-room in the Enfield house. _Intuitive_ contrasts with **me**, one who struggles with...
A stalk of bamboo hovers over me in eternal vigil. Eternity is the span of its existence, of course. Isn't _eternity_ the span of any _entity's_ existence? Does it take eternity to pass from the burp from the womb into the sudden state of decomposition? Does it take an eternity to pass from a smooth seed cradled in sod into the sudden state of decomposition? The span of life, this _eternity_, passes in a flash. Every detail of its presence evaporates. He / she / it who perceived the passage no longer exists...
The tea is made. It steams beside my telephone and painted fish. My palate and stomach awaits a plate of waffles I just concocted. Yes, on weekends, I abandon my "diet". Fuck um. Plan! Does routine really unhinge time so it passes like a flutter in a 12 year old hag's loins? It depends whether it is an ingrained routine or a "conscious" routine. And I think that even the former can be converted into the latter if one denies the _random pathway_ module of the brain dominance during said routine. The _rando...
Thank you for reminding me that I should be steeping my tea. Today, I drink _Touareg_, which differs from my _rough draft_ version of this entry, in which I was drinking _Lady Grey_. The contrast is sharp, or, as we say in Lakife, _hele kotzom_. Also, I commented in my _rough draft_ that _Lady Grey_ is tea for an elitist. In some way or another, I'm certainly an elitist. I also made the comment _British bastards_ in reference to _Lady Grey_. I'm under the impression that all _Earl Grey_ style teas originate...
I put on the album _Perhaps_ by Harold Budd before beginning this moment-dump. I glanced through the review at Samadhi Sound previously. It's an album of improvisations, like some of Budd's other work. I appreciate that. Of course, I cannot pay attention to the **details** whilst writing, but the ambience the sound-universe makes is splendid. I miss multitudinous details whilst attempting to commit the mortal sin upon focus: multitasking. Yes, listening to music during **writing** or **programming** or **sh...
I interrupted myself by answering Christián's comment concerning his current listening obsessions. This time round, it happens to be Brian Eno. Good for him. Not for Brian, but for Christián. Brian knows nothing of Christián. Actually, this also may be a good thing. So good for both of them. I'm happy that my friend is discovering music that I have been talking about, indeed _championing_ for decades. Here's my issue. Some people have a manner of expressing themselves that rubs my fur incorrectly. Christi...
I'll return after I begin the steeping of TEA. A concern I have lately is memory. I'm referring to the actual process of memory. It's actually not a concern of just lately, but of most of my life. Unfortunately, when I address it, my strategies only work for a few days, maybe a week, perhaps an epoch or two, and then I lapse back into a malaise. Specifically, I'm writing about short-term memory. I have always somewhat had my _head in the clouds_. Because of this, I miss details as I wander through my days...
If the reach between what we perceive and what actually "is" is as infinite as it seems to me, then our perceptions during waking and our perceptions during dreaming are equally valid. It goes without saying, or writing, or squawking that our perceptions whilst flummoxed on some drug or another is also equally valid. As there are other shambling physical forms in the world, the way we perceive them during moments of wakefulness, dreaming, drugged out bliss or psychotic rage isn't as important as the way we ...
