___ ___ ___ ____ __ _____ __ ____ __ / __\ /__ \ /__ \ / __// | / /__ \ / / / / |/ | / /_/ // \ \// \ \/ /_ / /||/ // \ \/ / / / /| /| | / __ // / // / / __// / | // / / / / / / |/ | | / / / //___/ //___/ / /__/ / / //___/ / /__/ / / | | /_/ /_/______/______/____/_/ /_/______/\_____/_/ TEXTFILES ---------------------------------------------------------------------- #106 : Sunday 28th September 2003 : http://addendumtextfiles.org ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Gehirnfarts, by Steak ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯ -._.- The cold winter air blows through and under the pagoda like a torrent of knifes stabbing at my bare fingers. I feet that maybe I should look into buying a pair of gloves, but my endeavors to hit the keyboard in the same freezing outdoor atmosphere would be slightly more hindered with the hand warmers in place. Perhaps fingers gloves are the way to go. I will have to look into it. With my hands so cold I am constantly reminded of exactly how cold it is in this outdoors winter world, and further still they remind me exactly how could I would be @all over@ if I didn’t happen to have my clothes for come reason. I’m glad to have clothes - clothes are good. Nine-Inch-Nails doesn’t make the whole place seem a lot warmer, in fact I would say that their music adds a sort of, well to be honest, deathly chill to the environment. Like a coffin stuck in a stone tomb in the middle of the North Pole. But I can deal with the music -it’s only psychological. -._.- Unemployment is attractive as hell. I’ve been doing it for the last few months and trust me it’s tempting as hell to just sit out the rest of my life in an altered state of consciousness in a small comfy ball somewhere. It would be so easy just to never do anything, lying in every day and sleeping whenever I want, and eating just for the hell of it and doing what ever I want whenever I want. However life doesn’t work quite like that and very soon I’m going to run out of money and energy. Not only that but I am sure that the novelty will wear off and I will become bored and long for something more substantial to fill my life with. That something will, with any luck become more employment and with that I will be able to rebuild my funds and eventually take over the world. -._.- Open-plan communal living is the best idea I’ve had all year. I want to just get together a group of really chilled out people and all just live in a large studio with all the creature comforts applicable to modern living. It’s the best way to live simply because there would be no boundaries, you could make any part of the studio anything you want. Like one day the place where you have your lounge area could be your gym and your dance floor could be your computer area. It also forces you to communicate with everyone in the place, which can only be a good thing. This is simply because wherever you are in the house you would be able to see everyone else and hence talk and commune with them. This would get a little tedious at times so I imagine bedrooms would be a necessity after a while. The experience of living in a studio would be heightened by the sheer industrial aspect of it all, for instance you would of course need some sort of larger than life entrance to the studio - like a massive freight elevator or a pair of huge garage roller doors. It should go without mentioning that there would pretty much be parties twenty four hours a day seven days a week. Sophisticated people would always be hanging there as it would basically be a commune of extremely cool people, and if you have the right type of people this can, of course be wonderful. Extremely huge curtained windows would also be a fun addition for endless games of people watching. Maybe I’d need multiple bathrooms as well. -._.- Everything must be recorded, if we don’t record what we do, say, see or think, then those thoughts could be lost forever. Imagine how many thoughts there have been in the history of human kind, and then think about how many of those thoughts have at one point been written down. Yeah it’s a small number isn’t it? So imagine how many thoughts have been thought up - only to be forgotten, all this human imagination conjured up into perfect fantasies doomed to circle and spiral around in oblivion forever, never to be dreamed again. So it’s important to write shit down, it really is. Like right now if I didn’t write down the fact that I’m sitting out here, under my pagoda, freezing my fingers off, listening to Nice-Inch-Nails, while my trench-coat-wearing long-haired friend dances like a strange African man, possessed under an obscure spell the product of some wicked rhythmical demon that only he will ever hear the beat of, then the fact that it happened would be sentenced to insignificance and you’d never find out which would just suck for you. -._.- ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclamer - This content of this issue of Addendum is copyrighted the respective author whose name or handle should appear at the top of this page. You may copy this textfile but please keep it in its original configuration. Please note that the views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of addendum as a whole. Thankyou. ----------------------------------------------------------------------