Are we even talking about the same thing?

Talking past each other.

I'm getting complimented. Like seriously. Actual, real compliments. THAT IS FUCKED UP.

It's gotta stop. SERIOUSLY. It hasn't even been the chance crap either. I've had 2. That's right, TWO. From TWO different people. Not cool.

This is a goddamn time bomb.

Also, one thing you can't really do half-assed: bomb defusing.

My predictions are coming true, which freaks me out in an eerie, and what seems to be a discomforting manner. I am up late at night fulfilling unspoken and unwritten contractual obligations to that party of people known as friends. And no, this does not involve the maths that i'm going to do. That is different.

YAB was fun! in a generic sort of way. I'm happy, almost, if it weren't for those hidden prejudices and revulsions which I haven't been able to quash or rationalise away in a smoky puff of logic. Or faux-logic, as it stands.

Henson today! last day of exhibition. Gmail is hella cool. Google radiates Quality like nothing else, not even a radiator. That radiator has gotta a loooong way before providing me with awesomely large amounts of email storage.

I like Quality :)

Aside from that, provide me with Quality, and that is all I shall require. I bid thee Good Night.