The T7 Project.
The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project
The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project
The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project The T7 Project
Never ever ends.
His name is Botro and he’s a ninja
His suits not red not even ginger
Kapow!! is the sound of his triple ninja flip
with moves so fast he causes the space/time continuum to rip
DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDRobot
At first it was thought as the only possible solution. They were surpassing us in ways we could never have anticipated, and so it was released.
In doing so they killed their only hope.
Botro Janin.
CHAPOW!!!!
this is earth base 65692 come in Botro Janin
are you there Botro?
Botro?
-Fuck!! its got him too. That’s its then, it’s all over.
Boo.
Part 1: Street Lights.
Part 2: Traffic = Being part of the herd.
The ability to not fit into any particular category and yet freely communicate with all.
I am an incongruous bastard. Skirting the peripheries and hearing all the juicy bits.
Several years ago I was dragged kicking and screaming to the city to live. I grew up in regional/country Victoria (A southern state of Australia, Melbourne being our capital) and was not a big fan of the city. But after a period of adjustment and a handful of concrete pills, I started to enjoy it (city living) for what it was. Now we have moved back to the country, way out of town on 10 acres. Our own little farmlet. It is awesome, space, peace, wildlife and on and on and on.
But.
I find myself missing things from the city I thought I’d never. Little things, big things all kinds of crazy things. Here’s one.
Street Lights.
Street lights are cool because they help you to see where you are going. When it rains their light reflects off the road and looks nice. In the gaps between there are shadows in which scary things can lurk. If your going for a run and feel like giving up and stopping you can push yourself on by saying just until the next street light.
Do you carefully consider your options before easing your way into a new venture or making big life decisions?
ORDOYOUJUSTRIPTHEFUCKINGSCABOFFANDJUMPRIGHTIN?
I used to to live exclusively in the latter camp and abhor the former. My thinking was, and experience taught me, that if Murphy was going to bite you than he would no matter what so why not just get it over and done with. A very wise woman once spoke to me about balance, and it has plagued me the rest of my life. Trying to find it, understand it, hold onto it, achieve it. The illusive bastard, balance. Somewhere between to two.
Gradually, bit by bit. Take small steps. Break off manageable chunks. Make it doable. Specific. Measurable. Achievable. Realistic. Timeline. I used to wake with a coffee and a cigarette. Now I wake with a coffee, a couple pieces of Vegemite toast, a piece of fruit and some exercise. Strangely enough I feel better for it, sort of, sometimes, maybe, kinda.
Anyway it’s raining out, just the tiniest glimmer of the new day in the sky. Looks like ill be getting a wet arse this morning.
Have a great one.
I started to feel like this was just a series of long winded Facebook status updates.
So I stopped reading and writing.
I think I miss it.
weird·o n. pl. weird·oes Slang
1. A person regarded as being very strange or eccentric.2. A deranged, potentially dangerous person.The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language
weirdo weirdie
Collins Thesaurus of the English Language
Are you? How do you react when someone calls you a weirdo?
Until searching for the definition I wasn’t aware the word had such negative connotations. If you hear something often enough it loses its edge becomes normal and accepted, which seems to have happened here. The word just comes through as vanilla. I could at this point break into any one of a thousand stories all about weirdness. My weirdness. Although it has been called eccentricity a few times too. This seems somewhat more dignified and befitting as I get older, kind of like how grey hairs give some men bearing.
You are a fucking weirdo. Thanks for that. Ever so pleased that you had this opportunity to share with me your thoughts on my personality and general humanity. There is a rage, seething just below the surface, it carries sharp edged weapons and other devices for inflicting harm. It is OK though, this rage is contained, kept inside a little pouch. Rage with the safety on. By no means is this rage carried as an implicit threat against any others person. That’s not the reason it is still carried. It is fuel. Picture iron man’s arc reactor.
Anger if left to its own devices will always destroy. Harnessed it can move mountains, part oceans and heal the sick. This seems a far more productive path on which to tread.
So go ahead and call some one a weirdo today, it’s such a nice thing to do.
Ride of the Dodecahedron 