actuality.log

This was supposed to be a post on sexual tension and an inability to masturbate, but I can’t get myself to divulge it.
When I first started this journal a long time […]

For the stalkers in the audience, I’m now in a college town in Colorado. The primary purpose of this trip is toward this conference or something, but you’d never know given how unprepared I am. The hotel is cheesy—with its crap “decor,” the […]

I’m writing this with Crayola sleeping peacefully on top of me.
I call her Crayola you see, for I love how we behave like a bunch of kids given a piece of […]

Now that the title has got your attention, I think it is only fair to warn you that this post has nothing to do with me or my emotions—or does it?
It […]

We haven’t done this in a long time, because I’ve not been shooting very much. But after much prodding, I was inspired to walk around for more than half of today with my camera. Here are some things I ran across.
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As a reward for having angelic voices, hundreds of young boys were castrated to prevent their larynx from fully developing during puberty. This put them at the enviably unique position of having the vocal range of a young girl/boy, while having the strength […]

If you haven’t noticed, my takes on a lot of topics are warped and generally blown out of proportion. They’re warped because I don’t have any close friends to have intimate conversations with; you know, to use as sounding boards to help develop […]

Fiddling around with this new computer has gotten me somewhat interested in technology again. I mean, playing with the Hurd while tinkering with a Quicktime video is an eerie experience.

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After nearly a quarter decade of being passive, I’ve finally decided I’m not going to take it any longer. The next time anyone tells me how “funny I am,” or how “creative I am,” or how “adorably-sweet I am,” or how “smart I […]

After quite a bit more pondering, I think I’m ready to articulate why this was pissing me off so much.
It’s just that my parents provided me with enough that I can’t […]

The bastard child of Gautama Nuddha.
I went back and forth for a bit on this post because it was skirting the boundaries of TMI. And by “skirting,” I really mean “blatantly […]