September 2nd, 2012
Night, forever night.
Gentle humming of the server room puts me to sleep and I see code. The source code of the Universe, no less. All the lines have been locked, yet they are all different every time I see them. Dynamic, ever changing. You can't help but wonder, how this change occurs.
One would attempt to study the objects, values and functions, but they are never the same and they never have a clear meaning. I have spoken to others who have seen this; it's been agreed that this is not good code. But then, this is not a very great Universe. It is beautiful though, and it works most of the time.
I don't even know if I enjoy this monochrome wonder. It's like being in low-level space. And then there's that inability to change anything. Even if I knew what any of this does, what it influences, there is nothing any of us could do about it. We can't find the cancer method and remove all calls to it. If we could, would we really know what else gets obliterated, what objects and variables would suffer? Surely, something would be set to null. Maybe the whole thing would break. Best case scenario - we'd get a compile-time error. The Universe can handle compile-time errors. Can we? Fear is the mind-killer. But you need a certain amount of it. Most of us just don't have enough fear to be given enough power.
People started seeing the naked Universe quite a while ago. It went on for a while before everyone noticed the similarity of our dreams, before it started replacing the dreams of people completely; and then everyone began talking about it. There was a theory it's a virus that affects out brain in mysterious ways. There is still a theory that the end is near, so we are being let into the greatest secrets of creation that none of us could possibly ever comprehend. None of this makes sense. To me it is the Universe. To others it's just a digital representation of the dreams they would normally be having as images. The virus supposedly destroys the images, reduces them to code. But they don't know any better.
This is our world in all its beauty. While stripped of the obvious beauty, it is stunning as ever, full of wonder, never ceasing to amaze. As you would imagine, not everyone can handle this purity in the logic breakdown of our world. Many have gone crazy, but then they would have anyway, just give them an excuse. Some formed religious cults; which not much difference from the insane lot. I belong the the groups of people attempting to study this phenomenon, with not much success thus far. In all honesty, I believe we are not meant to understand.
I wake up and it feels like breaking out of a spell that puts a strain on all your movements. The blinking lights of numerous server racks are soothing. Like a prof of life, they are a sign that everything is as it should be. As go about tending to my precious machines, I can't stop attempting to imagine what would their source code look like...
April 13th, 2012
Pain is a sign of weakness.
And when it hurts no more, only then I will be strong.
I'm probably already a fine improvement on my past self.
P.s. Fuck you, ubuntu server, fuck you and your incompatibilities.
March 24th, 2012
High heels - so damn worth the pain.
March 9th, 2012
|09:38 pm - Claire|
I know there's no time to give up. No time to live or tell a story. There's just and endless forever. Not the kind of immortality I seek.
There will be a moment to wake up. I live for that moment. Hoping for it to last an eternity and knowing that it won't.
But what if I die before I wake?
January 22nd, 2012
Intergalactic porn actually seems such a great idea.
Imagine not even realising that what you're seeing is dirty and highly inappropriate.
Well, you'd probably suspect something, since it's called porn. But still.
August 11th, 2011
|01:27 pm - Quote of the Day|
"любовь зла, полюбишь и гуманитария"
July 28th, 2011
Глубина, глубина...Я твоя
June 29th, 2011
Varbūt kāds zina kādu vietu Rīgā, kur notiek jogas nodarbības pilnīgiem iesācējiem? Ja vēl nebūtu dārgi, arī.
June 7th, 2011
|02:13 am - Shatter Me|
Have you ever wondered where did all the people go?
Maybe you don't even notice, as a whole city dies. The people live on, elsewhere, but the city dies. With an echo through all its surroundings, but there isn't a soul to notice.
Empty, but not soulless. It can still scare the hell out of me. I can clearly remember my first time, when I peeled myself off a floor of a broken, crushed building, all covered in dust - a ghost in a ghost town. Aggression was first to wash over me and just then the plain curiousity - my God, how did I come to this? Since then I've learnt to hear the cry. To follow voices and history. None of it matters to anyone, except maybe just me.
Wind undressed them stone by stone. Left nothing but broken bones. And kept on shattering glass. I know what it feels like now. To be left for dead.
Abandoned cities was a passion of mine, ever since I became a sleepwalker. Perfect by nature, ruined by the human world. That's a common excuse.
Unlike other people, my sleepwalking always took me far away to a city long lost and forgotten, left to completely disappear one day. They told me it was just my imagination, but all the dust and a couple of old maps convinced them I was for real. I started looking for places like that. For aggression and pain, mostly both. And then the calm feeling of acceptance. If I should ever be lost, my sleepwalking guided me through wake. It's great to close your eyes and know that next time you open them, you will find yourself at the birthplace of your peace. You can close your eyes and just be. All true and all you. And I reached the perfect balance of nature and the human world.
They told everyone I did it to myself. Every cut and bruise on my body screamed "lies", but it's never enough. People always claim to know only what they see, but really they don't know even that. In their simple mind I did it all, by myself, to myself. You know how sometimes the profile fits and they find your suicide notes at all the wrong moments. Cries for help lost in time, found and destroyed. One time I closed my eyes and woke up in a nightmare. Frightened and lost, wandering endlessly, trying to wish myself back into the lonely comfort of one of my dying worlds. But it's like they weren't even there anymore, as wasn't the radiant calm. The dust though, there was quite enough dust. Every cut on my body screamed "run", every bruise added "away". My mind was lost inbetween.
In the end, none of it matters.
Only the last drops of blood, my liquid serenity, reminded me, what the dead cities feel when they die. And the calm of acceptance flooded me in a wave.
May 28th, 2011