So I had that banger of an opening to this entry, but because Apple became a shadow of what It was in the past, the notes app and the iCloud decided to stop this flux of human creativity, if Steve was alive he would be ashamed of that.
Anyways, our banger of an introduction was about writing, the most humane act of all human acts, the supreme habit, and the ultimate medium. From the oldest texts of ancient Sumeria to (mid)nights album by Taylor Swift, writing was always there for us, to record history, to spread knowledge and advancements, or just to say “Hello, I was here” to the next generation. Even god, chose text and writing as the only permanent form of his existence on earth, so maybe writing, as an act, is more noble, maybe writing is something of divinity, rather than humanity.
So, you ask me why am I writing right now, and I can’t really tell you anything, I just feel kinda sad and empty, yk? I’ve got 23 days of a vacation, complete quietness in my house and life in general, a great job with acceptable social life at the moment, but I’m still feeling that feeling of something wrong, something missing, and guess what, writing can’t make it feel any better. Maybe emptiness is the reason, and I need to surround myself with some sort of a deadline or a fucked up stressful routine in order to forget everything, maybe! Maybe I need to sleep and everything goes well, maybe!
But here I am, writing for that next internet historian, who will dig deep in the internet archive and find this blogpost, just to waste his time, and to draw a smile on his/her face. Hello, son! From your great great great distant grandpa, Radwan!