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Sometime, somewhere. Ages ago.
 

My it's nice, being alive, not many people get to be.

But I am, and I'm going to make the best of it. Hopefully.

Who knows who I am, hey? Certainly not be, I've got no objective view. I'm only writeing this because I'm in some way unable to practise java programming at the moment. I'm sitting here,
an old ministry of sound album giving off quiet house beats in the background, a pair of flared jeans on, a male shirt and a Harrods watch, which conflicts with my personality. In my
brothers room, old semi-literary vertigo comics piled like soil around the computer with white roots twisting through them. It could be worse, I could be sitting here in the dark with
nothing but the glow of the screen to see by. hmmm.

But I do love learning, afterwards I imagine thats what a high feels like. But the only drugs I'd take are LSD and caffiene. The bizarre exhilaration at being able to build something new.
Strange, I don't know why.

Hmm, my hands are looking nice today. Normal. And they work too. The veins or tendons over the knuckles stand up beautifully and the muscles tighten perfectly around the carpel
bones. The fingers' lenght compared to the hand looks like some sort of golden ratio. The tiny hairs on each finger serving to remind me of my ultimate ape heritage. The wrist however
holds no such delight, it's only pleasing aspect is it's asymetry and the contortions of the veins visible under the skin.

But the what the hell, what am I doing here? I can't adequately say. And hey why would I tell you? A third of the time I'm only interested in science, and the rest in something completely
different. Get far, me? I can't see it personally. I've probably got the desperation required but not the force of personality. (and then again.... I love a good ellipsis.) If you've read this far
hopefully you'll send me some feedback.

This is a little flicker in my time. Just as I'm about to move into the final year of school. And I'll put it onto the internet, the big mutating thing that it is, and change it, but I won't be me by
then. I'll be some other person, probably reading a pottery book to justify my putting it on my UCAS form.

Damn, wish I could have therapy.

I appear to be here but damn, am I not dieing all the time? Every second some new brain configuration erases the last one, and every second is a second less I've got in life. Stupid bloody
world anyway. What kind of god would make plague? Or free will for that matter? There's no point to it. Or hell, just some catholic/prostestant (they're interchangeable) ploy to get
punters to let the clergy take control of their spiritual lives. If you're not catholic you don't get to heaven, you go to hell. Remember that.

Remember me too. (remember to put 2 m's in remember.) And yet again what have I discussed? Somewhat about patterns (souls) I vaguely recall. I mean why should I bother to read over
it when I've got you for that? I need a nice picture. or a good project.