Yellowboy! Love Will Forever!
And it's all thanks to Aeonity. Thanks, guys. c:
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Unian / Main / Ticket / Buddies / Older / RSS
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What's in a name?

I've always been about the subject in the past, hardly about the concept until the last group of months. The nearing expedition into the further-polished environment of learning is drawing to a fantastic beginning, and I have vowed to myself to establish routines, systems, values, habits, philosophies, and motives in order to succeed at my goals in the future.

My established routines include a weekly schedule of events, organized into forks depending on the possible events of the day, and these include work days, extra-housework-duty weekends, shop care days (planned in advance), etc.

Systems involve a fashion of systems-thinking-applied learning with five notebooks per subject. A Pulpbook, which serves to take notes on lectures, labs, etc; a Brainbook, which is an improved, systemic version of the Pulpbook that is also based on the chapters of books in resource; there is the Docbook, which contains documentation of examples from each subject/concept; the Viewbook contains the status, name, and details of each assignment; finally, a Workbook, which contains the assignment and its answers in themselves. Another system is the housework, which will be updated as I see need to. Some systems will have to be established in detail in the future.

Values include transparency, communicativeness, clarity, voluntarity, defensive and anti-bystanderistic pacifism, currentism, consistency, politeness, minimalism, etc.

Habits involve laundry duties, planning-tendencies, time management, etc. Philosophies are a little numerous and rather good topics for future blogs, so I'll describe them over the following years.

With these tools in hand, I have more than enough confidence that each and every goal I have in the future is addressed. Good topics that could come up involve how I address each. I guess this isn't just a coding/morals blog anymore. It's about how I keep laying out my future plans.

I didn't wake up 91, today; I woke up a young adult once more.

Instantaneously, there was relief in the rush of thoughts that ran. I had finally kicked the bucket, or so it feels. This was already the most elaborate dream I ever had. There was wind between my fingers. I could stop breathing without suffering apnea. I could feel my hair without oils and dust. There were no wrinkles or blemishes on my skin. My tongue could click and I could feel the saliva jumping in my mouth. Everything is so real, here. If my conscience cannot comprehend its reality, how can it be the work of my subconscience? Ah, yes, the thoughts now flood in. Am I really dead?

I've always been aware of the power of the subconscience that reigns in my dreams, but it has never expressed this kind of love letter to me; The grass is a dark grey, but healthy in shape and texture, as if it naturally grows that way. The sky is this golden yellow, the shade I love, and the clouds are of black vapors, raining lemonade. How strange and exciting. Birds of numerous exciting colors flocked hither and thither, but only a simple brown goldfinch sat on my shoulder.

It was then that I came across it; the lake. The lake looked so strange to me from a distance, as if it were covered in an ice patterned with parallel strips of saturations of yellow. Indeed, as I approached it, the strips were actually liquid. I recognized the contents immediately to contain both lemonade and honey. I never thirsted, or grew full, or went hungry. I felt satisfied when I decided I would suddenly feel satisfied. I worried if I would soon lose interest in drinking and eating in the midst of my paradise, or if all of this leisure I would take for granted. What would I do? To see my world grow old to me is nothing short of hell.

I decided that paradise was too frail for my prolonged love. Knowledge and effort was traded off for the most temporary of pleasures, and I had no representation. My extensive expertise wasted on a lake filled with lemonade and honey, neither of which that I loved. The computers were the best that I wanted, and I could create anything I wanted, but I always did it best with willpower; I couldn't make it complicated, or an effort, to produce. Achievements were taken from me, too.

Now I was a prisoner.