spud
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2021 29 April :: 11.03pm
:: Music: Tauk - Sir Nebula
Jet Lag
I used to have arguments with my uncle about language. I insisted that there were grammatical structures and rules in place in order to keep the meaning of language consistent. If we are to communicate and exchange ideas, it is critical to have the same words and sounds mean the same thing to both parties, in order to successfully transmit all information in the idea accurately. I thought that the rules helped to keep those meanings from shifting.
His primary contention was that language was alive, constantly evolving and changing in meaning. Different languages cherry pick words and phrases from other languages, sometimes at random, sometimes by conquest. New words are constantly being born, while old words slowly die off and are forgotten. I think he viewed slang as some kind of nursery for future linquistic possibilities.
I have to admit, he may be right.
After all, they condensed an extremely specific phenomenon - in which one traverses the surface of the planet at such an incredible rate, that their biological rhythms have difficulty adapting to the dramatic change in diurnal cycle - into just two syllables.
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try again
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godessalthena
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2021 17 April :: 9.46pm
had a really good birthday, just feeling pretty good about life when not looking at the parts I don't like.
it's going to be hard going back to work on Monday...
try again
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godessalthena
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2021 3 April :: 10.44am
when you realize you've become a shallow dish of the great lake you once we're
drying up like a river in california
molecule by molecule you've been dissapating into thin air
and everyone can see straight through you and none of them like what they see
vacuous space where a heart used to be, cold fingers, clammy hands, glass eyes and plastic beads for stuffing
you become one with the icy artic winds blowing over this fucked up landscape. a numbess enters you, fixing to your very core. labored breathing and far away eyes, trying to capture the warmth from you nostalgia.
just another deep emptiness of a human. wasting polluted air, generating more filth and trash. a creature so utterly lost from their home, trapped in artificial mazes of their own creation. dizzying and pointless, their minds grasping at foolish ideas of gods and cosmic flow.
when we all truly know what we come from and what we return to... endless quiet nothing. no sun, no water, no breeze or bushy trees bowing in the wind. just the end. the nothing. the nowhere. the deepest sleep.
try again
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