It has been a long time indeed. I feel the need to write overcome all my stiff resistance, resistance to spend (read waste) time on things that are not related to the venture. I put in all my waking hours into it. I babble about derivatives and algorithms or so, my wife claims. Thankfully I can’t hear myself talk when I am asleep. For the past twenty four hours, I have been itching to write, some voice inside of me (also insistence on part of wife) coaxes me to write this time. I don’t know if what I write is worth it, I have always had feelings of worthlessness of output; the feeling of murderous rage inhabits some part of me. So let’s get to what I was itching about. I realize that Life has no meaning. At least I can’t find one. All of us, at one time or other, try to commit that mistake. I do that often. Repeat Offender!! I had been in love with this book by Scott Adams – Gods Debris. I have recommended it to a number of people and it’s free. I can really feel that the guy can feel
formulating infinity within zero