1918: I resolved to disregard the one-way communicator, as it evoked a sense of foreboding, possibly a harbinger I had been cautioned about. My colleague noted its origins near Seattle, though with deceptive hops to Virginia and Florida. I recalled a dear friend in Seattle, a struggling bartender whom I had met. During the pandemic, I extended monthly aid to her, and others, never solicited but freely given. My frugality is well attested by acquaintances; I seldom indulged myself. My proficiency in mending technology and writing afforded me modest earnings, which I used to support others. Even in my gaming hobby, I shared my resources and skills, earning payments on creative platforms, yet always keeping my income just shy of what required official reporting. This supplementary income, though modest, did not interfere with my primary employment, but rather aligned with my ethos of aiding others. However, today, I made a solemn vow to cease squandering my gifts and income on others indiscriminately, and instead, to finally live for myself. For too long, I have prioritized the well-being of others over my own. It is time I recuperate and focus on supporting myself, and perhaps, in due course, a future partner. Semper supra!
1522: In days past, a segment of research I had contributed to found its way into the software and hardware of an organization known as Thorn, established and supported by the notable Ashton Kutcher. Recently, I was tasked with the optimization of a management application for surveillance systems. This endeavor aimed to enhance visual and audio fidelity through automated means of pre and post-processing. However, a challenge arose: moments of throughput spikes causing gaps and freezes, rendering the system vulnerable to infiltration and exfiltration. I believe I have the solution, though it will require some time. This task brought to mind an optimization I once performed for Marina's stop-animation project, reminiscent of a similar effort in elementary school—an endeavor to prevent drug use on the streets of New York. Little did I know that I would later join a mission with a similar aim: a joint team combating trafficking and solicitation of drugs, illegal contraband, and even human shipments along the Eastern Seaboard. The specifics of my contributions remain shrouded in secrecy, masked for years and still untellable. Nevertheless, I digress. I shall find time for this task, as I sense its application may extend beyond the commercial sector, perhaps even to spacefaring research. On a different note, I had to remove the Tiddy post by request after the individual mentioned it in a rather one-sided conversation. My apologies; it was intended as a cheeky jest.
0856: When others discover my high-functioning Asperger's (autism) and attempt to unsettle me, I often find myself amused as I reflect on the day's events. My mind possesses the curious ability to replay occurrences as if they were recorded, albeit by disassembling them into manageable segments. This method of compartmentalization proves invaluable, alleviating cognitive strain and facilitating the learning of new concepts. The human mind's capacity, though theorized to be limited, can be exponentially enhanced through such organic practices. I have mentally mapped out markers to navigate back to specific points, a strategy I have adapted to suit my neurodivergent tendencies. A peculiar occurrence unfolds when individuals intrude upon my focus with requests while I am immersed in another task; I mentally tag the current activity as a spatial reference, enabling me to resume it later. The belief that one cannot read and listen simultaneously is refuted by my experience, as I seamlessly alternate between tasks. My mind operates with sub-processes that pulse within various corners of my consciousness, though explaining this phenomenon proves challenging. Notably, my basal body temperature fluctuates to nearly feverish levels, reflecting an autosomatic response to mental exertion. Amidst this intricate dance of cognition, I have devised inventive names for those seeking to christen their offspring or pets, a jovial outcome of my exposure to name registries.
0424: Not so long ago, translating the intricate tapestry of the human mind into machine language was little more than a theoretical dream, a concept once known as wetwire, beset with challenges too formidable to surmount. The myriad complexities of individual minds—each unique in its responses and experiences—rendered the establishment of a universal baseline for data recording a Herculean task. To achieve accuracy, it was necessary to find a mind that exhibited a calm and steady demeanor, capable of registering thoughts with subtlety, avoiding extreme spikes that could skew results. My own mind, though marred by the scars of time, has developed an adaptability that allows for a natural flow of thoughts, rather than a frantic rush of responses. This subtlety, it seems, aligns with the requirements of such studies, suggesting that individuals like myself may be central to this research, though we remain distinct in our uniqueness. As I continue to contribute to advancements that propel us forward, I also turn my attention to tackling the vexing problem of overheating. I recall once envisioning gel packs imbued with neural networks, designed to self-cool—a notion perhaps as fantastical as a Star Trek episode, but one I conceived in my youth. Today, we see water-cooled systems inspired by automotive thermal dynamics, a concept I first explored with a self-contained water-cooled Xbox 360. In those days, I was the go-to repairman in my dorm for broken gadgets, a pioneer of sorts in a small but industrious realm.
0224: A young lady recently posed a question about revisiting the irretrievable past, inquiring how such an act aligns with moving forward. This query, delivered in a manner I cannot directly reply to, highlights a nuanced point of contention. Occasionally, I use the term "young lady" which, despite my intentions, may come across as condescending. I picture myself, like Michelle Tanner from *Full House*, addressing such an inquiry with a playful jest. Yet, the essence of the question touches on a profound truth about my approach to progress. Imagine, if you will, that I cast a medicine ball or bean bag forward, setting it as a task to be tackled within a specified interval. I might then throw another object in a different direction, aimed at a distant traffic cone. Surrounded by these unlabelled items, the act of hurling them imbues each with purpose and a physical response. If I am unable to complete the task at hand—whether due to exhaustion or ill timing—I merely propel it further into the future. In mission planning, when acceptable risks are reassessed and postponed, this act of moving forward is akin to adapting strategies. Thus, my method of progressing through life involves not closing doors but repurposing them, transforming them into gateways, and reinforcing or altering them as needed. I trust this explanation offers clarity and wish you a pleasant evening.
0132: With every exit code, a new beginning unfurls—a catalyst or starting point concealed within layers of compartmentalized knowledge. This revelation, like many aspects of my life, remained shrouded, obscured by the very mechanisms I was entrusted to navigate. Accepting that certain truths remain beyond my grasp, despite my role in their orchestration, has become a necessary concession. A faltering chemical synapse, once vibrant but now diminished by degradation, has rerouted its purpose within my mind's labyrinth. The start code's intent is to rejuvenate my heart, triggered by names or words that induce a catatonic halt. While this study may seem trivial—words' meanings vary, after all—the integration of mind mapping and signal attenuation presents a pioneering approach to managing responses to stimuli. The ultimate goal is not for me to achieve but for the students in this field, crafting a digital counterpart to organic neural networks. This endeavor, poised between machine learning and artificial intelligence, aims to create a process regulator, a digital handshake broker. This project, though unnamed to me, originates from benevolent intent and promises benefit over detriment. My colleague’s assurance that it progresses favorably brings solace. As I reflect on my role—initially as a father not by title but by essence—I find satisfaction in knowing my contributions may aid others in reaching their aspirations, blending technology with human creativity.
0117: "Men don't often keep their word," was a lamentation I once heard from Marina's stepmother, yet I discerned in my ex's countenance a silent contradiction. Over time, I have demonstrated a propensity to revisit my spoken promises, feeling an intrinsic duty to fulfill them, even long after others might deem the path irrevocably lost. I once discussed this inclination with my therapist, who likened it to an endlessly tangled ball of yarn, suggesting that no one would waste their time unraveling it, but would instead cut away the unnecessary threads. Remarkably, I have accomplished what he deemed impossible, unraveling such tangles with remarkable swiftness by discerning the mathematical pathways required. This aptitude for tidying and organizing, evident in the meticulously arranged cords and pristine spaces I maintain, reflects my approach to many aspects of life. Born with conditions that do not hinder me, I have learned to efficiently balance deliberate actions with time-consuming tasks, a skill honed in martial arts where focus and repetition lead to adaptation. Though I may occasionally miss deadlines, the timeline of eventual completion reveals that my word is indeed my bond. To those who recognize this, I offer gratitude, for my commitment is steadfast, even when the bridge was but a mere vision. In a world ever in motion, patience is rare, but I assure you, I shall not let you falter if I can prevent it.
