i should write i should post i should blog dammit blog but what would i say if i did? i am unwilling to try & explain my life at this point (it would only confuse me) (or you, if there are any you’s left who still come here) and i’m sure i have other things to say however this $2.50 per hour internet thang is seriously impeding the flow of whatever those other things might be. composing offline just isn’t the same, there is something in the connection itself that is a conduit for the expression of any inspiration i may have on hand; disconnected, it seeks other outlets. it’s revived my long-dormant semi-obsessive tendency to frequent the stationery aisles, impulsively purchasing more spiral notebooks & cool pens than i possibly need. i have also been up to my elbows in glitterpolish & crazy glue & discarded things, to the extent that the finished products are less decorative than they are an infestation of sparkly crap covering every flat surface everywhere.
another thing i can’t seem to do offline, is code. i can download code with the intention to modify it & upload later, but when the modem clicks off, so does the part of my brain that had those great ideas for those cool modifications. i am perfectly capable of doing some pretty extensive shit with code & having it right the first time, it’s not like the old days of testing wild guesses, all elebendy kabillion of ’em, before i had a working finished product, so i don’t really *need* to be online like i did then. well, at least not for that reason. but i do, apparently, need to be online.
there are parts of my brain that are conditioned to work on a computer that is actively switching packets in the background. i can get as far as the first impulse to look something up, & it’s over. i might not need the answer to continue, but the sheer fact of not being able to have that answer till i log back on … ADD … look! a shiny thing!
weeks. it will be a few more weeks, two-ish, until this business with the offlineness is resolved. until then, i am … somewhere between a holding pattern, and a test pattern. i am something filling in spacetime until the real something happens.
& if & when the apocalypse comes, and i survive, you will find me holed up in an abandoned ISP with a case of red bull & a generator, working diligently day & night to get the connections back running. and i know others who are of the same mindset. i comfort myself with this, whenever i am forced to face the depth breadth & extent of my need. there are worse things to be dependent on, than a blast-proof packet switching network that connects me to a mind-bogglingly vast array of things. even if some of those things are parts of my self.
god i love the internet.