2016-07-16 at

Negging

Bits of our childhood. Bits of our youth. Meandering foolishly across the waters and earths of a motley civilisation. I remember the worlds we met in, the worlds in which we departed, over and over again. We won't remember it the same way, because we manage memory differently. One in the moment, one in a timeless space. Orgasms are different without you. There is no weight between my hands and my cock. Nothing to lean into, nothing to hold, closely with whispers and chit-chat. Far out, you thrive without concerns of loss, nurturing only a casual loneliness. And that loneliness is my casual loss, folded into the negging boredom of a life in a world of plebs, whose movements remind me of you. And several others too, but for now, mostly you.

2016-07-13 at

Trite Nights

Much waste stems from unspoken minds. The bleak silhouette of bodies against the moon, and stars, and distant villages, of older times... is echoed in the cold darkness of phonelit rooms, tiny lehds on devices made in factories full of fright. Straightened hair falls against the light, and a stern moan breaks overbearing silence. The smoothness of skin against dry skin, not yet fatigued. Shadows barely visible, as the lights are weak: a nipple here, an arched back, knees to nowhere, there a shoulder. Nothing shocking, forever trite, the slaves are busy through the night.

2016-07-12 at

Yawn 6

A thoroughly uneventful day. Does that mean it's time to write or draw again? Perhaps one day I'll be smart enough to do serious math in my spare time. That hasn't been possible yet.

/

Privilege is such sweet sorrow. The $10 million man feels tragic about the $1 million man's efforts. The RM40 man feels tragic about the RM4.75 man's lot in life. Oh, what a pity. And yet the markets clear... businesses come and go, but business never ends.

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Writing a strategic priorities brief. Perpetual success is hypothetical. You can only provide evidence to support that hypothesis, never actually achieving it.

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I just wrote a management manual. I feel like a useless smartass. :P

/

So this made me think. The first AR dating app that gets put out is going to be interesting. It should look kinda shimmery like the holodeck. It's not even that hard as long as you get dates to stand up against a green (or other flat coloured) screen.

/

If I empathise sufficiently with strangers, then the benefits of being my best friend... effectively drop to zero. No one wants such assholes in their lives, do they? That's what I'm thinking about, as I record some spoken words, and send them to a friend who hasn't read my messages in a few days.

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Deploying to the trench.

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Run time.

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T minus 61. Team6 will engage with Team5.

All units on yellow alert for 11 days and counting. Hope for a clean handover and relief. Wait for it. Drum dum di dum. I have some other thoughts to pen in the meantime.

/

Unreadiness for speech is professional suicide. Huhuhu.

/


I just lost the outsoles of the shoes I use for running on crap roads in the rain. I'm a mechanic - I get sentimental about my tools; by extension I view teams as toolsets, and I get sentimental about people also. A staff asked yesterday why I was being nice; I said it is because it my job to be nice to people: it is my job to manage the resources that have put themselves at my disposal. Moreover, we work in hospitality - we are the tools of comfort. If you forget this, you forget what it is to be hospitable, and that is a contradiction of the business case. A team that is capable of higher-order thought has a clear separation between its actors and their roles. As actors we may care about actors, but that is not to be confused with the roles we play. Our roles do not care about actors; our roles care about roles. Failure to distinguish the two leads to folly, and sometimes, laughable grief.

/

"He bought me a toothbrush."
"AW. There's something really cynical I could say. But you don't want to hear it."
"What?"
"Toothbrushes are cheaper than prostitutes."
"WHAT."

/

Many of these are guesses:
ISFJ uninstalled.
INTJ installed.
ENTJ... installing...
INFP... looking around furtively...
INTP... focusing on exams...
The other INTP... still on permanent standby. Did I get everyone?
Oh... the two ENTP customers have been introduced and are starting a philosophy class. Excellent...

/


Over the weeks, I have had so many suggestions from some party to fire another, that I am seriously considering firing the next person who asks, on the spot. Lol.

/

I've set myself a reminder to talk to her in three months:
Divestment, on clear guidance. Enforced silence. Chores, breakfast, and sleep.

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Time to buy protein powder - budgets are tight. Scheduling a message to touch base with loved ones in a quarter. On to chores!

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Team6 briefings - first 24-hours: Deal with incoming aggression as a cohort, with strategic planning. Anxiety and aggression are both medical conditions, so treat them as such... therapy is important; seek professional help if necessary; allowing it to become the _status quo_ is a no-no. AVOID falling in love with your work, or colleagues, as it may result in utter confusion and a mismatch of priorities. Enjoy the ride. Stay as long as you can be happy. Leave as soon as you have exhausted opportunities for happiness. Broadcast your trajectory MONTHS in advance, preferably. Don't block the door. :)

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On aiming for rejections, as practice: "It's the same with customers really, if you're not making someone sad, you can't possibly be taking enough risk. Of course, that's debatable. :P"

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Walky walk in the beautiful weather, new food to try out. Waiting for the team.

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Department on fire: Day 13. Initial feedback indicates that the learning curve is steep. Oh well.

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Work.
Waiting.

/

"I didn't know you to be playful. You used to be a curt conversationalist."

"Well, I would like to be running an army. But I have lucked into a kindergarten instead. So here, I argue with children about why pants must be a certain way, about why toys should not be stolen, and why poop must go in special places. I can't say it is enjoyable, but it is the nature of the job.

Of course, we all end up sleeping with burdens that are not our own - most of my hourly concerns are intrinsic concerns of our people which I make a point to remember - since most of those concerns are non-verbal, one can only store them in non-verbal memory, for the sake of accuracy. Remembering what everyone dislikes is a matter of remembering how each one's fears are triggered, and how their resultant fears are experienced - experienced, in the first person.

Again, that is just the nature of anthropology in a society that is unlike oneself. One has to become closely, if obviously not exactly, like a local.

I feel it can be similar meanwhile, dealing with investors. Many fear that the business will go under. While I frequently (if not constantly) hold that it is probable that the business will go under, I mostly attempt to not fear that fact - fear only gets in the way of being able to execute on the risks we are here to take."

/

Am I a bad communicator, or am I clearly communicating things you don't want to hear? That's usually the thought at the back of my mind, when you hear me speak. Not always, but usually. All I study of the world, is how it is communicated, after all.

I suppose I must then draw a distinction between communications and rhetoric, the latter being the business of persuasion.

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Boredom is a knife sharpener. When it does a good job, everything gets better. When it does a bad one, the results are dull.

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Priora Robotics. Just because.

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Weeks upon weeks. (On doing nothing, improving work.)

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Snaking a toilet all day. Now we're gonna just rip it up.

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Now we have two departments on fire. Oh well. Today was rather uneventful - though I did end up bringing us RM200 closer to burn out, covering myself in sewerage, and helping to orientate the new procurement officer.

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Hmm. I am in online meetings with staff. There is an emergency 9am task to attend. It is 1am. I need to get dinner. This could result in another night on the couch in the office... the surest way to not miss meetings.

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Injecting influence on brand management today:
- Dreamy. No dreamers.
- Taste. Only the minimum.
- Fame. Avoid it.
- Boredom. Seek it.
Can't wait to retire and let the team reinvent the brand in any way it deems fitting. If we survive.

/

"We have problems, A, B, and C!"
"I know, I set up the..."
"Don't say you know!"
"i know the problem is there. I just choose to do nothing about it. It's there by design, because no one provided an economically viable alternative. With the addition of new resources (such as yourself), the opportunity cost of any comitment of resources changes. Do what you can, that is the mandate... natural selection will show us the future of the organisation."

/

Are we dead yet? No? Back to work.

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Same shit, different day. Wondering about spending the night out, or going straight to bed.

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Flirtation in the age of comet: two spaces followed by two backspaces.

/

I spend much of my life wondering if I am too snobby for my own good. The early decision to thrive on dust is too easily forgotten. I must often remind myself, that nonchalance is key. That is how I seek to be a better person.

Thank you for your random thoughts.

Tinder Profile Update

Let's discuss: honesty, fiscal policy, this ordered set, [Van Herpen > McQueen > Armani > Chanel > Saab > Versace], the history of ideas, the structure of a smell and its reproduction, language, math, cognition, and consciousness. If you will, move with me, discussing what emotions each shift in weight precipitates. Pauses to touch without speaking. The preservation of cadences. On the edges of many modalities, haptics, olfaction, mouthfeel, fingerfall, saltlick, dreamtickle, and sleep.

2016-07-10 at

On Commercial Talent (haha)

The lowest quality of talent, knows not what it cares for, and cannot negotiate it's own trade.

The lowly (yet not lowliest) talent cares for itself, but not for its work. This talent is selfish, but responds predictably to incentive structures designed for self-interested actors.

A mediocre talent cares for its work, and interacts considerably well with arguments about the work. However since the definition of work is fluid, the definition required by the client and the definition required by the talent may differ, and this may lead to conflicts.

A higher talent cares for the definitions of work, and is able to interact with these definitions, thereby pleasing clients in form first, and then in function.

The highest talent cares for nothing, and is keenly aware of this mode of work. It is thereby able to manage the logistics of talent, in accordance with the balances of power which must be maintained for the pursuits of an organisation. It does not concern itself with failures, or successes, but only pursues order. Nature works therein to demonstrate opportunities to be exploited, and to demonstrate false opportunities which were never there.

Stating the obvious then, this is how I view our world. But this remains a model - and we must consider very many models in any discourse. In this model, the leaders of our society are mediocre talents: the activists, the artists, the businessmen, the caregivers. This model exemplifies the rewriting of history according to a certain variety of nerdery. It is antisocial.

On Loss

The problem with already having everything of importance in life... is that as you go about retirement, whiling away the days... the things you use to pass your time... some fools will think about as if these are things you care deeply for.

That is how you lose her. That is how you lose them. That is how loss emerges as a toy.

/

Work has been slow, and I struggle to stay awake in between the business. I still try to write you, daily. Others, with whom speech was not such a common activity, I would wish to write to less often. Some will no longer receive my thoughts - they avoid me.

I have been thinking about the many people in my life who are deeply disturbed by lost and found fancies in their lives. I don't feel such great disturbances. Then I remembered you, and your search for such weightlessness. I hope that whatever you have been doing... leads you closer to such freedom. Maybe when you arrive there, losing each other won't hurt as much, and then you won't avoid our closures.

Closures. Our closeness. Intimacy. It matters not how the last word ends, as much as it matters how we read into it our feelings associated with those words. And the words, they will always mean something different to different people.

/

I was speaking to an aesthete, in the rarefied company of another who is transparent and curious about all things. (Perhaps not all things, but in any event... ) We spoke of love, and our studies, and economics, and ease. There is no easier speech than the muttering of lovers, encroached within each other. Often lovers cannot attain such comforts, but some can, and those are the ones we cling to. Whispers of mundanities wrapped in wetted meat. Reflections on the spectrum of cleanliness observable across a few hours of structured movement. Discussions of what emotions each shift in weight precipitates. Pauses to touch without speaking. The preservation of cadences. On the edges of many modalities, haptics, olfaction, mouthfeel, fingerfall, saltlick, dreamtickle, and sleep.