23 september 2025
I’ve always been fascinated with the way a snail quickly withdraws its eye stalks when touched. It’s an excellent
metaphor for how my past has pressed its shape into me; how painful experiences have taught me to withdraw. I’m in
a place that is more withdrawn than ever before, but I’ve realised it is not a place of fear, it is a place of
safety and contentment. I don’t crave the external validation I once did; I’m learning to enjoy the small moments
and to find joy in what is already here, rather than reaching into the void for echoes.
I am starting to see my past more clearly, not as something that overwhelms me or drags me into old storms, but as
a landscape that can be looked at from a distance, felt but not drowned in. It’s ok to feel deeply, emotions don’t
need to be dulled or buried under the weight of old vices. "To find light, one must be in the dark." - General Iroh
The green tea I’m drinking while writing this is so good...
I can feel a shift in me towards the present moment and immediate future, toward the people I hold close and the
students who sit with me each day. I wonder if this is what it means to step into the role of elder, to allow my
experiences to become something useful to others rather than a private burden. The world does not owe me anything
and I no longer expect it to hand me anything in return. I hope when storms return that I can still find shelter
in small slow things, in the ritual of green tea, in the classrooms where students surprise me and in the ordinary
care of my children. The life I've built is enough. I am enough.
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10 september 2025
Whaat a strange week...
Watching Sorry to Bother You and reading about the Myth of Sisyphus sent me into a downward spiral. I realised
too late, that my spotify algorithm was being unhelpful and suggesting music that was compounding my emotional
state. Life is absurd - we just push the boulder up the hill and then watch it roll down again, just to repeat
the process? Camus says yes, but we can enjoy the process, so embrace the stone rolling..
So I had an existential meltdown for a couple of days, stuck in a toxic loop. I remembered some Acceptance and
Commitment Therapy strategies so I eventually found solid ground again. Now I'm back to rolling the boulder up
the hill, but I'm content doing it - I've rediscovered my patient, motivated and creative self. I also deleted
my Spotify so I've exited that echo chamber, which has been surprisingly helpful.
I took the day off work today, spent time with my wife (she is the frog to my toad) and youngest. Ate a Japanese
style curry in some sweet spring sun, and set up my new MicroPC 2 to be my daily driver. This is my first entry
using it.
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01 september 2025
Five days in town and I'm starting to feel more comfortable. The shell is a little
less daunting and I'm starting to remember some commands. It feels nice to have a
little web page and space to log random thoughts and small achievements away from
the noise; almost like a little holiday house. It is so different from where I've
been online before this. I've left behind corporate social media; so tired of the
performance. I tried Bluesky for a while, dipped into Mastodon, joined a few
Discord channels. Still too much performance for me. It feels strange to admit but I
feel like I've never found my demographic; like I float through spaces not built
for me.
Until very recently my creativity was spread far across a heap of platforms and
I have slowly consolidated it all into my own website, now it's quiet. Dead quiet.
It feels like a relief but it's also uncomfortable. I have to sit with my own work.
There is no immediate validation from random strangers, no dopamine loops. What
makes it more difficult is that I do not have any friends that have any interest
in slow web ideas, experimental and minimalist code, not even my significant other
gets it. I mentioned tilde.town the other evening and how it would make a
fascinating ethnographic study and they said:
"sounds like you're obsessing."
So I made some ascii art and marvelled at how beautifully simple it was and went
back to living inside my own head.
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