Writing for me is a real buzz. I love that I'm finally free to tell the stories I've always Kept pent up with that business man I keep chained up in the basement. Just imagine the rush people are getting from texting. It is in fact one of the only forms of communication where you can pre edit what you say. Texting is the logical child of e mail. But the effect is similar, I don't always require a response and you have the right to ignore me. We never have to speak. So 21st Century.
And now I'm writing blogs. The comment pages are closed. If my writing is correct I may want to continue my literary exercise without expectations. It's starting to take on the life of it's own. My research suggests that there is a curvature in social space time. The gravity of all the information produced in ever accelerating profusion, bends the shape of the universe. At the rate at which we produce information, there is never enough time to process. The data is lost like so much waste heat, while adding to the overall coding density. Entropy has a social dimension. Vid goggles are on the store shelves today, 'bout time. My memory comes and goes and sometimes that's good, and sometimes I hate getting fogged in. (Step away from the computer.) I'll never forget those feelings of smallness that came on when I opened my first really hard math books. Lost art, much of it today.
Memory is very much keyed into our attention. I'm going to reopen a different blog site: "The Bridge Between The Worlds" Taking a detour into; Return to My Surreal Novella,
