nikki.lol

Some thoughts on my mind in late May that I just want to record for now.

Adam Graves walked with a limp.

I get so bored, so tired with myself.

There is this imp in my head; a devilish, little thing.

It’s hard to write about your core self, that doesn’t always want to honor other people’s wishes and is rarely satisfied.

I’ve been struggling lately1.

When I was in third grade, a fellow student started to mock my teacher, Mrs.

i Note Somewhat emotional, somewhat truthful.

A snippet here, a scrap there.

There’s this thing called Mental Models that is pretty prevalent in the world of tech, where I have spent the last twenty-plus years of my career.

I am not sure where I heard it or who I could attribute the statement to, but the following saying is something that has stuck with me over the past few years: I never want to treat someone based on how they treat me.

I’ve been watching the first season of Felicity for the past few weeks.

I have always been an emotional creature.

Humans are granted a gift when they are born.

This semester, I’m taking a course called Mindfulness, Meaning, and Resilience.

It’s windy today, the first day that I can feel winter on the edge of the weather, that tinge of raw coldness that marks the depths of the winter season.

A coworker recently asked me if I had any advice for her after her first year at our company.

Bella, the beautful bike.

As I’ve already written, I’ve gone through a break-up somewhat recently.

I’ve learned that setting intentions at the outset of anything often helps.

If someone had told me at the beginning of this semester that Frida Kahlo would both empower and heal me in the coming four months of my life, I would have thought them mad.

The view from the top of Mt.

In 1953, Frida Kahlo’s doctors informed her that the gangrene on her right leg would necessitate amputation below the knee.

Today, this morning in particular, is a rough one.

Three minutes to six in the morning.

The Smith College Museum of Art is a squat, brick building situated at the northeastern corner of Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts.

In 1932, Frida Kahlo painted a piece titled Self-Portrait on the Border Line Between Mexico and the United States (Autorretrato Entre la Frontera de México y los Estados Unidos), in which she paints herself standing on a border marker between the two coun…

In the painting titled The Love Embrace of the Universe, the Earth (Mexico), Diego, Me, and Se_ñ_or Xolotl, the center of the image is dominated with recursive embraces.

Last night, as I was going through my wind down process, I started looking through previous entries.

A little over nine hours of sleep last night.

C and I received our COVID-19 Bivalent Vaccine Booster on Friday.

Christmas morning.

It’s zero degrees here this morning.

I’m having a hard time putting words onto the page this morning.

I have this unhealthy fear that I will not be a good writer because there is a part of me that wants to remain hidden, part of me that wishes to remain anonymous.

I’ve decided to try something new.

Does everyone go through to-do apps like underwear?

I finished my philosophy exam yesterday.

It’s funny.

Over at Hacker News, there’s an Ask HN about learning Vim in this day and age.

Last night, it came.

Sundays used to be hard days.

I read yesterday in Garrison Keillor’s Substack1 that the books “on the Best Books of 2022 lists [are] very dark, not a single comic novel anywhere, they’re all about traumatic displacement and grief and alienation” and though I haven’t taken a look at th…

We put our tree up yesterday.

Death is neither good nor bad.

In The Meaning of Life, Richard Taylor postulates that heaven may be found on earth, inside each individual, and that hell, which he defines as an “endless pointlessness” (170), may be avoided by fully embracing our desires and wholly committing to our en…

In the first chapter of The Idea of Human Rights: Four Inquiries, Michael J.

The final words in Nagel’s prologue, The Meaning of Life, may have been more succinctly put as “get over yourself.”

The city was bright and alive.

I chose to read “Cathedrals” by Raymond Carver for this week’s assignment.