Bounded-Error Log

A new year. A new start. And just a chance to abuse the phrase “See you next year!” It’s hard to get tired of using it once every 365.24 days.

So, I have decided to open up my other blog to people.

There are a few reasons for not doing so previously. Firstly, there’s a lot of silly writing with unexplained LOLs and exclamations all over the place in the archives, not to mention the countless other sorts of weirdness linked to the handle I’m using here that’s spread over the rest of the interwebz. But I like to keep old stuff as some kind of record that my past self existed, and I’ve given up being embarrassed about them. And anyway, now and then I’m still performing embarrassing acts that outstrips any of this stuff by miles.

When I was thirteen*, the world was a different place to me. I imagined thousands of creepy people staring at computer screens out there, waiting to kidnap children and sell them to clients halfway across the globe the instant they figured out their addresses and statuses as minors. I don’t blame that old me; there has been at least one computer class devoted to videos of this type.

2011, on this blog:

Alrighty, if you’re looking for the IBSH Freedom Writers contest website, its URL is http://freedomwriters.ibsh.co.cc/. (2013/03/28: The link is now dead. I’m not surprised; it’s just more evidence that free websites of the “do your own html files” type are really fragile things.) I just tried to help my sister find it through Google, it’s nowhere to be found, and instead there are hits in ancient archive posts from this blog.

I don’t know where to start.

First there was a headache. No biggie, sleep it off. But it’s easy to lose yourself

The pain, the random gusts of nausea, confusion, irritation… it’s another person in this body, speaking a foreign language I can’t even begin to fathom

playing by his own rules, won’t let you figure them out. his kingdom, and there’s not even a way to surrender or take the path of least resistance. Every path looks the same from here

blackness, vagueness, shadows, defying all interpretations

So. I was hoping I could blog for once without predictably explaining something about how this doesn’t mean anything about future posts or activity or anything, but apparently I can’t get started without a lame start like this.

Eight months have passed since I started my fight with leukemia. Yes it has been a rough eight months, full of unpredictable pain, nausea, diet restrictions, and freakishly-sized needles.

I’ve been waiting for I don’t know how long for everything to go back to “normal”, but now that I look back I can no longer imagine the idea. The world, outside, still seems to be rushing at its insane pace towards maximum chaos. Economic and natural crises still seem to be always around the corner. But in here, in the hospital ward, or at home, it’s a really different feeling. I feel completely disconnected. Nothing changes; every day is waiting, waiting, waiting for the future, for a better moment or feeling or achievement.

For what, really?

2010, on this blog:

2009, on this blog: