There is a manner in which certain things ask to be written, not so that they may be found, but because to exist in silence, for too long, eventually becomes insufficient. It is not urgency. It is something closer to a necessity that makes no noise, waiting patiently until it discovers the proper form. This archive was born in such a way.
Not as a diary. Not as a blog. Not as something that is updated merely for the sake of appearing alive. It is a place where certain thoughts come to rest, those which do not dissolve, those which return, those which insist with the silent obstinacy of things that truly belong to you...
Amsterdam is already wearing tomorrow. Rainbows have been appearing everywhere and the city has that pre-event energy where normal Friday life continues while everybody knows Saturday is going to be...
Before anybody writes anything: yes, I know. Windows is not Linux. Nobody needs to arrive with torches. XD I spent another day poking around Windows 10 and noticing how quickly...
I upgraded. Of course I did. There was no universe in which I was going to spend the entire day reading about Windows 10 and then calmly wait several weeks...
Technology becomes invisible incredibly quickly. That thought arrived at work today while I was annoyed because something took several seconds longer than I wanted. Several seconds. I grew up with...
Saturday had no historical significance whatsoever and I loved it. I woke late, spent too long over coffee, washed my hair, changed the sheets, went shopping with Yuri, bought a...
After spending half the month mentally billions of kilometres away, tonight I wanted music that puts me violently back inside my own body. Hardcore. Loud enough to feel rather than...
I think I am finally coming down from Pluto. Not losing interest. Absolutely not. The data will keep arriving for ages and I will keep looking. But the intense countdown...
After a week staring toward Pluto, the Moon looked almost indecently close tonight. I saw it while coming home and stopped for a second, bicycle beside me, because my sense...
I love photographs enough to know their limitation. They preserve what reached the lens. They don’t preserve the entire thing. This week has made that feel enormous. Every Pluto image...
Sputnik Planum. Another name entered my vocabulary this week and immediately attached itself to a place no human being had seen properly until now. The bright plain inside Pluto’s heart...
Pluto has a heart. I know it is terrain. I know the shape is an accident of geology and viewing angle and human pattern-recognition. Pluto did not spend billions of...
It phoned home. New Horizons is safe. The signal came back after the flyby and I watched people in mission control celebrating, and that was the moment the whole thing...
Why?
Because every thought leaves a trace. If something moved you, disturbed you, softened you, or made you think, leave it here, quietly.