Me no talk so good. Engrish is hard.
Me no talk so good. Engrish is hard.
I used to be a poet. I suppose I still am, but I used to be too. For 20 years I wrote down every thought, every emotion, every observation. From haiku to sonnet to long winded free verse; I wrote. Then the worm turned & I spent time without my voice. I reached an end of the passion that had driven me to refine my language & lift simple words to a level I thought worthy to offer as a gift to those few who set my soul afire & drove me to the brink of madness that is inspiration. In the time of my writing I lacked the drive to achieve fame, but I have a body of work that I still return to & read with admiration.
I accidentally became self employed as a courier. The job is menial, but I knew that the business could be enhanced with a decent website & a few in house tools. Over the past handful of years I've built a decent web app that I rather wish I had the confidence to offer to sell to others.
I found a parallel beauty between poetry & coding. First learn the language, that's easy enough. Then learn to make it beautiful. The hard part is the step in between that no one talks about. Finding a reason to want it to be beautiful.
With poetry I thought my motivation was to impress an audience (convince young women to have sex with me) with with wit & passion. When I started writing code I thought I was driven by making tools to improve my productivity (thereby increasing my income & the chance of convincing young women to have sex with me). After I learned enough to know that I was doing it wrong & started doing it better I thought I might both impress & improve (that would mean double the number of young women or, even better, double the quality!) . In the end it turns out that I just really enjoy single player word games.
Maybe it's just mental masturbation. Both endeavors have the potential for propagation but I'm not putting it in the right place. I suppose, in the end, I just don't know what the fuck I'm doing.
I hope you like a boring rant. I'm going to bed now. I hope you have a very pleasant whatever time of day it is where you are. If you got this far you should have some chicken as only can make it . It'll lift your spirits.
I used to be a poet. I suppose I still am, but I used to be too. For 20 years I wrote down every thought, every emotion, every observation. From haiku to sonnet to long winded free verse; I wrote. Then the worm turned & I spent time without my voice. I reached an end of the passion that had driven me to refine my language & lift simple words to a level I thought worthy to offer as a gift to those few who set my soul afire & drove me to the brink of madness that is inspiration. In the time of my writing I lacked the drive to achieve fame, but I have a body of work that I still return to & read with admiration.
I accidentally became self employed as a courier. The job is menial, but I knew that the business could be enhanced with a decent website & a few in house tools. Over the past handful of years I've built a decent web app that I rather wish I had the confidence to offer to sell to others.
I found a parallel beauty between poetry & coding. First learn the language, that's easy enough. Then learn to make it beautiful. The hard part is the step in between that no one talks about. Finding a reason to want it to be beautiful.
With poetry I thought my motivation was to impress an audience (convince young women to have sex with me) with with wit & passion. When I started writing code I thought I was driven by making tools to improve my productivity (thereby increasing my income & the chance of convincing young women to have sex with me). After I learned enough to know that I was doing it wrong & started doing it better I thought I might both impress & improve (that would mean double the number of young women or, even better, double the quality!) . In the end it turns out that I just really enjoy single player word games.
Maybe it's just mental masturbation. Both endeavors have the potential for propagation but I'm not putting it in the right place. I suppose, in the end, I just don't know what the fuck I'm doing.
I hope you like a boring rant. I'm going to bed now. I hope you have a very pleasant whatever time of day it is where you are. If you got this far you should have some chicken as only @ChefDong can make it . It'll lift your spirits.
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