<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32399254</id><updated>2011-12-14T19:11:45.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Thurd Life</title><subtitle type='html'>The ramblings of a nomad living in the post-virtual world (after the servers go down).</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>maskatron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08322619265232308580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32399254.post-115610037950743050</id><published>2006-08-20T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-20T11:59:39.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A coffee sounds awfully good to me, so I decide to walk to the coffee shop.  Halfway there I realize I am winded, and walking quickly.  I don't know why I am walking quickly.  I'm not really in that much of a hurry to get a coffee.  I guess it is just habit.  On to the next thing - without really taking the time to experience the present.  This idea ping pongs back and forth in my mind often, but somehow if can't seem to germinate into a behaviour change.  This pisses me off.  Maybe I should have stayed inside.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the coffee shop, the non-descript worker asks me what I want.  I tell him.  The exchange is almost robotic.  Our monotone voices fall into place in an orchestra of monotone.  Part of me knows there's something missing, something wrong.  Another part of me is already off on a quest for the next thought, the next stimulus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32399254-115610037950743050?l=bitmaskatron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/feeds/115610037950743050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32399254&amp;postID=115610037950743050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115610037950743050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115610037950743050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/2006/08/coffee-sounds-awfully-good-to-me-so-i.html' title=''/><author><name>maskatron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08322619265232308580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32399254.post-115558718193032264</id><published>2006-08-14T13:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T13:26:21.963-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>With my thoughts still swirling, I decide to go outside.  I am greeted unceremoniously by the day.  The sun is shining and I am taken back by the new ambient noise print.  The hum of computer fans has slithered under a rock...I faintly discern a singing bird in the distance.  I glance up awkwardly to the sky.  The clouds drift by at a snails pace, yet they appear to be in no hurry.  I admit to being envious, but then it occurred to me that I am always in a hurry but at the same time I acheive little.  This revelation does nothing to improve my foul mood, but at least the fresh air tastes good.  I invite it to blow the stink off me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32399254-115558718193032264?l=bitmaskatron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/feeds/115558718193032264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32399254&amp;postID=115558718193032264' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115558718193032264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115558718193032264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/2006/08/with-my-thoughts-still-swirling-i.html' title=''/><author><name>maskatron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08322619265232308580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32399254.post-115551395873296513</id><published>2006-08-13T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T17:05:58.746-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My heart keeps beating through all this.  Deep inside it there remains an ember...flickering but still technically on fire.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32399254-115551395873296513?l=bitmaskatron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/feeds/115551395873296513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32399254&amp;postID=115551395873296513' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115551395873296513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115551395873296513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/2006/08/my-heart-keeps-beating-through-all.html' title=''/><author><name>maskatron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08322619265232308580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32399254.post-115532710710434969</id><published>2006-08-11T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T13:11:48.953-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Virtual - a term that has become a victim of its own success.  My virtual life still hangs over me like the shadow of a much larger creature.  I look up hoping to find a clue to its whereabouts.  My head starts to ache.  It joins my back and wrists.  They ache in comfort.  The comfort of my situation, my old situation that is.  I try to come to grips with what is and what was.  The flash of my virtual life before my eyes...images still burned into my retinas.  Cinematic soundscapes at every turn have disappeared.  Now there is just a daunting silence.  I am certainly alone, but also slightly afraid.  The ultimate loner is afraid of being alone.  I can feel panic setting in, but it too feels somehow muted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32399254-115532710710434969?l=bitmaskatron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/feeds/115532710710434969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32399254&amp;postID=115532710710434969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115532710710434969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115532710710434969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/2006/08/virtual-term-that-has-become-victim-of.html' title=''/><author><name>maskatron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08322619265232308580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32399254.post-115521971234939167</id><published>2006-08-10T07:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T07:21:52.356-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Food.  It comes to me.  Hunter, deliveree.  I eat in haste, my thoughts on the next thing in my queue.   I eat in haste and the heavily processed meal tastes dull and lifeless.  It occurs to me that it should - it has been dead for some time now.  For a split second I question my own vitality, then quickly move on the next thing in my queue.  My queue?  The screen remains dark - it too is lifeless, basking in an eerie glow...the LED from my speakers.  It is starting to sink in...my queue, my path, my focus, my blinders...poof.  They are gone and I am so alone.  Utterly alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32399254-115521971234939167?l=bitmaskatron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/feeds/115521971234939167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32399254&amp;postID=115521971234939167' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115521971234939167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115521971234939167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/2006/08/food.html' title=''/><author><name>maskatron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08322619265232308580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32399254.post-115514192902130425</id><published>2006-08-09T09:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-09T09:50:03.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I rubbed my eyes and looked down at myself. My body had gotten soft from years of inactivity.  My stomach hung over my pants, a milky orb modelled by a wiccan Martha Stewart.  Possibly it was candle wax mixed with hair?  Its appearance cried out for nuturing.  Which reminded me, I was hungry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32399254-115514192902130425?l=bitmaskatron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/feeds/115514192902130425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32399254&amp;postID=115514192902130425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115514192902130425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115514192902130425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-rubbed-my-eyes-and-looked-down-at.html' title=''/><author><name>maskatron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08322619265232308580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32399254.post-115504916575642451</id><published>2006-08-08T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T17:37:14.680-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now what?</title><content type='html'>The switch has been flipped. Ok, now I'm just staring at the blank screen.  What the hell do I do now?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/32399254-115504916575642451?l=bitmaskatron.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/feeds/115504916575642451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32399254&amp;postID=115504916575642451' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115504916575642451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32399254/posts/default/115504916575642451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bitmaskatron.blogspot.com/2006/08/now-what.html' title='Now what?'/><author><name>maskatron</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08322619265232308580</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
