I’m forcing myself from the time I’ve started writing this to not switch contexts. From the time it took me to start that last sentence to the time I finished, I stood up and went to watch a Monster Hunter Wilds video my wife wanted to show me. ✌️

I’ve got a very strong desire to write more entries for this space I’ve made, but I have this massive inertia to just start and iterate on the ideas I wanna capture. I’ve got this idea now, though, that if I just start writing as if I were yapping in-person to someone, then it’ll be way easier to build that writing muscle.

So here I am making a persona I talk at in a conversational tone, and we get to both see how that goes. In a wonderful display imaginative capacity, this new person I will invent is just me. Maybe I’ll flex and try writing for different audiences and styles when I get comfortable with writing, but for now, there’s nobody that bears wonderful witness to my stray thoughts nearly as well as my self. My wife listening to my inane ramblings can’t fathom the shear volume of yap that’s been filtered and curated before reaching her. I haven’t given her even half of my ramblings after finishing Assassin’s Creed 2 yet, and I will very likely forget those thoughts before anyone else ever bears them witness.

To make writing to myself in a public forum at least as minimally accessible as is needed, I’ll write to the same version of myself I write my READMEs and project notes: the one where I assume I’ve forgotten my existence prior to my latest meal and have only the patience necessary to receive information through a glazed reading of the content.

I’m also capping content length. Not artificially nor measurably, but I’m already losing steam and my thoughts are outpacing my ability to write. Not my ability to write sentences in general (I can type at least as fast as a competent toddler), but moreso my ability to form meaningful sentences. I’m giving myself the out to just stop writing and ship a thing. Nothing here has to be finished nor good nor usable. I’ll edit published entries to my whim and

original ending here

I was literally about just leave that as is right there. And I will, but I went to console my wife over her woes with aging (we’re not even in our 30’s btw). And out of that conversation came a stray idea neither of us cares to develop: a spouse quits their job to spend more time at home but starts hyper fixating on their family’s personalities and the oddities of their house and these manifests as ghostly events that are only real to the them. I dunno, I’ve seen ghosts as metaphors for various traumas, and domestic horrors, and the usual trope of “husband doesn’t believe the wife about the real ghost haunting their family”, but haven’t seen this intersection. Maybe it’s a lame idea, but idk