don't exist | go away.

isn't it nice having a premade article template so i can just type stuff in at random like this?

it struck me. . . megatokyo has really good design! some other blindingly obvious insights occurred to me, too, but that was the only one i remember. the obvious doesn't really stick in my head that well.

so i'd just been reading jwz's rant on web design, and lo. . . megatokyo has exactly what jwz means by good design. it makes everything nice and readable, and doesn't get in the way. it's clean. it degrades gracefully. it helps that all the stuff to read there is interesting, though. . .

*cough* yeah, that really helps, nyo. i really wish i had as easy a design situation, nyo. . . *cough cough*

yeah, okay, i shouldn't complain about how i'm not writing interesting stuff anymore. but it's annoying.

a person who mattered (and, truly, there are very few who do) asked me once what it would be like if every ability i took pride in were stripped from me. now i can answer that. . . this is hell, or wherever it is that half-articulated ideas and broken concepts go. a wasteland in the gap between your mind and mine, my ideas and yours. the place i'd like to transcend with words that in the end always prove inadequate. . . and fall.

laugh at me, just a little. it's not true if it doesn't make you laugh. the real and one and only test we have.

i took my personal site down a week ago. perhaps longer. in some ways i still liked it. in some ways it embarrassed me. in some ways i wish it still represented me. it said something about me. . . i remember that much. but there isn't that much to say anymore. and what it did say doesn't matter anymore anyway. it's what i used to think, how i used to feel. there's nothing of that anymore.

search for anything that used to be there. click a link into it. there's now a lovely 404 error page that directs you into this. . . this site. . . and i've created this, but it is not mine. in some ways i'm really fond of it, but it's not mine.

and some days i hate it, too. i hate the lack of good writing, the uninspired whatnot, the everyday banality that it makes of. . . surprise, the everyday. there is tremendous art hidden in our everyday motions. but there is also a tremendous amount of pointlessness. life has yet to teach me to distinguish between the two.

—chris