Milk spills and malt spills, but milt is just this guy named Milton.
And I am frozen in solitude right now, it's as if in effectuating to rid myself of certain feelings I think I have forgotten how to feel anything at all except freezing frozen fear. Though when someone warns you before she comes flying over half the planet to come and get with the person I've been with for almost eleven years and tells me she's "definitely going to freak out" I guess this is kind of understandable.
I have not even met her yet. They are in the other room doing things I don't really want to think about all that much, which is having - fortunately - the very positive side effect that my brain has fastened itself firmly to Choronzon (project, not namesake, though that, too) and flipping through all the half-done tracks for Effect Affect I'm kind of amazed. When my collabourator asked me to shunt them to the server to add stuff to them I was pretty jazzed; for a while he'd been distracted by other projects and I
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I sit about in a room which until tonight was uncleaned mess and detritus of a warm house gone cold. Tonight I cleaned. It helped that a friend took me out for yum cha today. It helped that I began working again today (annual leave) and had to get off my bum and start again.
But instead of putting the rubbish and recycling out the door for the trash (take that for people who don't believe in subconsciousnesses) I am delaying it. Listening to music, hoping to console myself, and burning CDs into electronic forms. (Not that I have listened to your albumn yet though; I just mull over nothingness at the moment.)
Which reminds me how I ripped most of *our* music when it was *ours* in the final days when she had already well contemplated the break onto her laptop, as a distracting project for myself. A time waster. A way to occupy my space and not think of what was clearly before me.
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Milk spills and malt spills, but milt is just this guy named Milton.
And I am frozen in solitude right now, it's as if in effectuating to rid myself of certain feelings I think I have forgotten how to feel anything at all except freezing frozen fear. Though when someone warns you before she comes flying over half the planet to come and get with the person I've been with for almost eleven years and tells me she's "definitely going to freak out" I guess this is kind of understandable.
I have not even met her yet. They are in the other room doing things I don't really want to think about all that much, which is having - fortunately - the very positive side effect that my brain has fastened itself firmly to Choronzon (project, not namesake, though that, too) and flipping through all the half-done tracks for Effect Affect I'm kind of amazed. When my collabourator asked me to shunt them to the server to add stuff to them I was pretty jazzed; for a while he'd been distracted by other projects and I ( ... )
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I sit about in a room which until tonight was uncleaned mess and detritus of a warm house gone cold. Tonight I cleaned. It helped that a friend took me out for yum cha today. It helped that I began working again today (annual leave) and had to get off my bum and start again.
But instead of putting the rubbish and recycling out the door for the trash (take that for people who don't believe in subconsciousnesses) I am delaying it. Listening to music, hoping to console myself, and burning CDs into electronic forms. (Not that I have listened to your albumn yet though; I just mull over nothingness at the moment.)
Which reminds me how I ripped most of *our* music when it was *ours* in the final days when she had already well contemplated the break onto her laptop, as a distracting project for myself. A time waster. A way to occupy my space and not think of what was clearly before me.
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Orbital.
Orbital.
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Milt is an archaic, and in UK englishes current word for
EJACULATE
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