August 16th, 2006

2013, cyd, new


i didn't want to go to bed last night until i mastered either torrents or RSS, but i went to be anyway. and dreamt of mastering these things.

okay, so i haven't mastered it but i have figured out how to download a torrent and then put it into another program (azureus, i think is the spelling) and download. now i need from you your favorite torrent site. how about it? please?

off to RSS learning.
2013, cyd, new

jesuss how my head aches

i now know what an RSS feed does. i know how to go to my microsoft homepage (as if i would) and change and add RSS feeds. i know how to do that on livejournal, too. whee. five articles and i know what i did when i started but with a whole bunch of other words.

i have only just now found out that you need help to turn RSS to HTML. that was one useful bit of information and i found it at the feedforall site.

i still don't know things like how to do anything i wanted to do. can i post one song at a time? can i use a blogger account to podcast? it seems way too much hassle to put it on my site and do it myself, if i could open a syndicated account, that would be so much easier.

these are the questions i'm not getting answered, if anyone has the answers, please tell me. thank you.
2013, cyd, new

i was not always a brilliant poet

i'm transcribing, for the first time, a collection of poems that survived from high school. and the poet at 16 is bad, boys and girls. it wasn't until after high school that i got exposed to jelo biafra's spoken word. and then rollins. i learned there are no limits and the definition of "poetry" is a wishy washy thing that you can try to make the most of.

i learned some things yesterday. you do that when you read three years of poetry out loud. you'd better. what i learned about kasey's death: thank gods the pain fades and i don't feel like that anymore. what i learned about me: i make myself the victim. i don't do it on purpose, i don't mean to do it, but i do. and it comes out in my poetry. only a portion of my stuff is about me, so i guess it can be pretty intense.

what i'm learning from these 20 odd poems i'm reading now is that i've always been screaming for love and feeling trapped. yep. sums it up. as awkward as my poetry is from back in high school, it still rings true to what i was feeling. even if it does all rhyme.
2013, cyd, new

check it out

i've figured out that publishing them is my little gift to myself for getting them organized. i have another book but i'm not done with the cover yet. okay, i haven't started the cover, but i've been banging them out in no time at all. i changed my mode with this new one. the cover is purple and black. and all funky looking, not just the image and text thing i've been doing. i don't even care if the silly things sell. the only bargain is to download them, which is a cheaper choice. i plan to somehow get my hands on a copy of each somehow.

the new one of the oldest stuff i have surprised me, which is why i chose to let it out of my sight. but there is such a difference between what i was writing in 88 and what i was writing in 98. i've been paid for poems i wrote in 98. only as a collection, as a view into my head when i was in my later teens does it make some sense. i was quite deluded, even back then, and everything was very epic for me. my need was colossal back then. not like it isn't now in its way, but anyway. there was also a lot of putting my feelings off on a 'you' or 'he' or 'she' or 'them'. it is interesting to possibly only me to read the fear of god and gods men that i ran into. i was fucked up in high school. i don't have many journals and i have about 4 memories from that time. this has been my only way to see it through my own words. what does a scared teenager feel when she tries to let out the demons? pretty scared and angry. though the anger is really subtle. and the outright self loathing hadn't yet made itself known.

there, i just wrote a review about it. whee.