Poison Apple

It’s day twelve of the rewrites. If this post had a subtitle it would have to be “Whoah, easy there, Ozymandias!”


I do not like where this writing exercise is going. It’s as if I’m still performing while writing for myself, getting all pretentious. Why am I taking a stab at writing about “deep” topics I have no business writing about? Seeing myself dare is entertaining, I give myself that. But at some point one has to regroup. Avoid falling into some sunk-cost reasoning. Because I started pulling some thread it does not mean I have no choice but not to stop.

There is no shame in changing one’s mind. One could be more serious with digressions than with where one started. This is especially true if there was no initial intent. In fact, most likely there wasn’t, as most people apply intent after the fact anyway to things that seem to work. Here I see the thread of agency and free will dangling and very tempting to pull, but not now.

I’m collecting training data. That’s it. That’s the retroactive explanation for what I’m doing. I’m practicing the ability to produce words lest I forget. Having brain muscles attuned more to consumption is bothersome. Or this is an exercise of conscious thinking. Or this is a distraction. Yet if one would pay attention to the inherent randomness of life, what isn’t? At least the opportunity cost is less than half an hour and the sense of satisfaction after is instant.

After all, it turns out I’m able to say a whole lot of nothing with so many words. I heretofore declare, that’s good for me.

Enough for today.


Total number of entries so far minus twice the number rewritten gives how much more to rewrite. (31+5)-2*12. Is this true? Am I only halfway? Also, I’m halfway! Half empty, half full. Tomato, tomato.

Some things I noticed 02/05/2020:
  1. happy birthday sir despite the circumstances
  2. 100 prisoners problem via math twitter
  3. “Europeans initially believed tomatoes to be poisonous.”
  4. I actually also did snack on a tomato today.