The Eleph and the Ant

I do not, strictly speaking, have time to write this. And yet, here I am. Nothing for it, really. Now, then. Let's chat.

I have several things that I wish to write about, and not much time to write them in, so I've decided to eschew transitions in favor of a more aetherial (sic) sort of new-age "experience." We'll see what happens.

I'd been feeling real sad yesterday, in that way that is specifically not depression because problems don't really exist until you acknowledge them, and I tried to stop myself from crying in front of everyone by playing music. Who's to say how successful that was, but it did result in me re-listening to my Proximity playlist. I'd forgotten how great my music had been back then.

I started on New York City, because that song never fails to wrench an emotional reaction out of me (except that it did fail this time, but again it's fine as long as we don't acknowledge that). By the time I got to My Sunshine, it was late enough that I thought I'd better get to bed. Started back up on Blackout, right when I started this post.

I only have four chapters left in the last book of the Broken Earth trilogy, which is stupidly called The Stone Sky. Honestly, I still think they just switched the last two titles by accident. Regardless, I'm due for one more chapter with each character, followed by an epilogue of sorts. I look forward to it.

I really need to get around to writing another book review. I've made a deal with myself to withhold certain amenities from myself until I write a certain number of reviews, and it's been tough. There's a lot that I want to do but can't.

I looked through some of Ben Orlin's list of books he loved in 2018, and realized that my life was woefully lacking in both books and lists. That's not about to change any time soon, but it might change later. I will, as always, do the best I can.

I read two short stories, Sally by Isaac Asimov and The Aleph by Jorge Luis Borges. Neither left that much of an impression on me, but they were both great stories. I'd recommend Sally more, as The Aleph is a bit opaque, which might have something to do with the translation.

When searching for Borges' story on Google, I typed in a=l, attempting for "aeleph (sic)," and a frankly ridiculous number of equations popped up in the autocomplete, but before I could process them I had deleted my search. It did not work a second time.

I tried to find The Morae River again, but it had disappeared. It seems the artist is doing well, however, so I'm happy for him. You can still find some of his drawings in some places. I'm sad that it's gone, though. If only there were like archives of the internet or something.

I have a new computer now. It's strange and all, but it does well. The battery definitely lasts much longer than my old one, probably.

I just finished the song You. I think I'll stop here.