buffer, buffer buffer, cause the other offers emptiness - other's flush with substance but it shames me with its earnestness - other's so straight-forward, wasn't that the thing to clean my mess? buffer buffer, buffer, cause i don't want to explain, i guess

buffer, for a lot of reasons - they needn't be specified, like his curious associate Raul. They could be cryptic, cause not enough has been left to supposition in a while, not that it matters, not that THAT matters. Taking it all the right way. Taking it in the back, or let's say, leaving it in the back. And never no turning back, never never no.

Let's see, what else, any more words I can think of, as a buffer? No, guess not. OK. Every little bit of distance helps.

irrelevant again

It's the new craze sweeping the unpacked wolf nation: The Idea Game! Where a panel of pundits consisting of one person argue with each other over the wisdom of trying on this new idea for size: What is the truth that dare not speak its name this week? Well, it's a counter-intuitive one that points the accusatory finger back at myself to play angel's advocate and challenge the resentment-soaked political ideology that fuels most of my writing: How much of my supposed morals and deep philosophical framework boils down to spoiled brattitude? Just petty envy of the people who lived a fuller life than I did, even though modern tech has provided even mediocre me food and entertainment surpassing anything experienced by emperors in ancient times? My hurt feels unbearably intense at times, cause it's hard enough just to survive, just to be alive in that human condition, but it's relative, for good and ill. When looking at my place in society, I feel like I got dealt a bad hand, and it gets worse with every card I draw, but I never really have a great answer for the question of am I really worse off than my granddad. [Of course the libertarians have to go back to at least the silent generation, their comparisons get pear-shaped when boomers enter the equation]. I mean, yeah, he's richer, the generation that is squatting on essentials, housing, healthcare, money that makes money. But he never got to enjoy digital abundance. Cheap computers and media. That's what I get. Wait, I'm not allowed to say that sarcastically, because I'm playing the idea game. I have to play with the idea that, if I'm being honest, I really do non-sarcastically enjoy the digital abundance, but I'm weird that way, synthetic man, not like most of even my generation and younger, I'm the rare person that really would weigh my collection of ebooks, mp3s, and cracked software favourably against owning a house and having a meaningful career.

Stepping outside the game now, all this is probably moot when taking the future into account. If I'm pleasantly warm because the fire consuming my house is providing heat, I'm rich in a very stupid sense. So there's that meta-game, am I winning cause I'll be dead before it gets too bad? Do I wanna be that kind of winner? Moral relativity is just a maddening fact, but I've landed on an objectivism that works for me, which just comes down to the personal value that it's shitty and disgraceful to treat my life, in this clutch historical moment, as a hedonistic binge, carefully timed to avoid the consequences.