I haven’t seen the sun in several days. Today is like the others. Outside, the air temperature floats just above the freezing point. It’s the kind of day where the sun on your face, were it there, would make the difference. Or the lack of wind. But, as I look out onto my courtyard, it looks breezy, and the sky is a mottled gray. I can only see buildings, from my vantage point here on the fifth floor, and maybe just a polygonal patch of sky. Gray. Gray of sky, gray of concrete, old bricks. The tiles on the patio are wet, as if it was raining a while ago, but maybe not right now.
Not much to say at the moment. I’ve been thinking about politics and AI–artificial intelligence. Maybe they’re alike. I don’t think much of either, at any rate. I will never get my mind around politics and the motivations of politicians, but my thinking on AI has begun to slowly evolve, to begin to move like the the giant steel wheels of a sluggish steam powered locomotive struggling to pull itself out of the station. Maybe later. If it hasn’t become a runaway train.
Just wanted to give the blog a little jog, a little impetus, like a playground merry-go-round, just to keep it going, somewhere between unmoving and spinning ’til you puke. And I’m filling time while I empty this coffee mug in preparation for standing up and walking to breakfast out there in the gray morning.
I’m going to call that a poem:
Just wanted to give the blog a little jog,
A little impetus,
Like a playground merry-go-round,
Just to keep it going,
Somewhere between unmoving
And spinning ’til you puke.
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I like this poem. But put a line break after “unmoving”. So your last lines would be:
Somewhere between unmoving
and spinning ’til you puke.
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I like it! Thanks!
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