Garoo

Woah, an empty inbox. I’ve managed to tidy things up, sort everything into the right folders, and answer the awaiting messages. Feels weird, quiet and serene, this deserted Eudora. The pity is that I’ve never been that fond of the desert. But I expect, in the next few days, to receive answers to the messages I’ve sent this week, so I’ll have new stuff to store indefinitely in my inbox. It’s important. Making people wait. That’s what makes me feel real.

That’s when you realize that HTML is not well designed. Why isn’t there an <irony> or <sarcasm> tag? Isn’t that semantic? When they read the previous paragraph, everybody’s going to think I’m a big bad narcissistic (well, yeah, I know they already believe so, because it makes them feel safer or something) who likes to feel desired. Whereas, yes, I’m a narcissistic who likes to feel desired, but I’m not manipulative. At all. Have I already told you how I hate manipulation? I hate manipulation. And manipulators. And people. And the whole world. I don’t know why, it’s coming to me that way, at five in the morning, as I’m staring, with desire and fear, at my sleeping bag (because I have a sleeping bag on my bed, it’s… more convenient), fearing the nightmares I may have when I sleep, due to the things I’ve seen and read during the day. Although I know that, in those circumstances, I generally get the nightmares on the following night (i.e., tomorrow night), precisely because I’m not thinking of it consciously anymore. But, anyway, I’m really sleepy right now. I’ve answered my mail, I’ve finally written an article (although I thought it would be quiet here tonight) and I’ve got nothing, absolutely nothing to do right now, before I go to bed: my neurons are quite too tired for me to read blogs or anything else. There, let’s go. Garoo out.