Red Hat conversations, 'Physical' on repeat, and at 6pm I start deleting Facebook data and choosing the next version of my life.
Relief after the election, then the memory of being silenced: why I keep writing when platforms and pressure push back. It keeps circling back to We and Chorus.
A restless mix of team fantasies, music, and memory: feeling judged, refusing prayer-pity, remembering old names, and asking for help while I try to move forward.
Entertainment ambition collides with annoying SELinux chores, Red Hat nerves, and Halo 3 nostalgia in one unfiltered scroll.
A leadership paranoia day: trusted intel, safety, and the uneasy thought my AI got touched, ending in a blunt, biblical 'King James!' moment.
A launch-day mood: Meg Ryan’s smile, Madonna in the background, Sri Lanka dreams, and Richard Marx playing like a promise.
A high-speed collage: daily coffee, fighter-jet obsession, office dreams, awkward breakups, and the blunt truth of server logs during hacking attempts.
While coding with AI and firing off emails, I get yanked back to that Halo drop-pod landing feeling and a 1,550 score, with prayers for Sean and the lonely edges.
I have AI rewrite messages so they land locally, then I nerd out on databases: MongoDB vs PostgreSQL, who uses what, and what actually fits the app.
Movie quotes and political clips feed the worry, and I keep reaching for Pauline as the end-of-the-world companion. It keeps circling back to Pauline and Da.
Trump's return hit me like a wave: faith, politics, and dark humor. By midnight I'm sketching tech-rivalry plays and feeling the quiet threat of Google pressure.
The weekend blurs into music, Ivanka clips, and intimate faces on currency. By night I'm distrustful of Google and I pause Freemasonry.
I start with a pitch for decisive leadership and peace, then get jolted by the microplastics-in-tea-bags thread. I go loose-leaf and return to building.
Notary trouble kicks it off, then I review the Rs 1.2m and commit to premium crisps with zero discounts. The night ends in geopolitics, code, and Sri Lanka headlines.
I start in craft mode, fueled by music and a film high. Then my brain shifts into cabinet fantasies: banks, media control, and cake as leverage.
I push back on cocktail gender rules and keep coding through exhaustion. China and election math swirl until my encryption fails, and I reach for mirtazapine.
A Moon-empire flag redesign and a Google Maps renaming riff track the annexation chatter. Under the jokes: persist, and be cautious about Sri Lankan tech.
I pitch Checkpoint for sensitive infrastructure after Mar-a-Lago briefings, then spiral into VPN fears. Wicked on repeat, I rank threats and revisit my July 13 suspicion.
I start with bull-riding and clay-pigeon fantasies, then the tone flips: faith doubt, a money windfall, and the Apache wishlist. It's escape vs resolve in one day.
I bounce from fears for Prince Harry to ISIS talk, then try to imagine music as diplomacy. Slow internet, media rules, and exhaustion keep interrupting the dream.
I prep the crisps launch while drifting away from Theravada Buddhism and hoping for Sri Lanka's stability. I fear Google power and want fair search and safety.
