In 1964, Pablo Picasso was asked by an interviewer about the new electronic calculating machines, soon to become known as computers. He replied, “But they are useless. They can only give you answers.”

You don’t say. Someone once questioned me why winning a spelling bee was such a big deal when you could just look words up on the Internet. At least have something saved in your own fucking head can’t be a such bad thing. 

Planning to do most of these things. My Dad suffered severe dementia for a few years before he died. I know that it is lurking inside my head somewhere. I am forgetful and I don’t get enough sleep. And I don’t think what I do for living helps me in that regard. 

The nurse who used to visit my Dad told me there are a lot of Alzheimer patients who used to be engineers. Last night my wife took a picture of me and my daughter and I went, “why this is how I look?” 

Anyway, my health is the most important thing in my life. Without health, you can’t really do anything else.

It’s time to get my shit together. My body is tired and I don’t see why it should be. I would like to do something worthy of doing. Something that I can look back and tell people that I built that shit. 

I guess life doesn’t need purpose. My purpose is to keep my family closer and raise happy kids. And if my job gets in the way of achieving that, I should reconsider. I am actually tired of working with people whose entire work is based on creating this aura of perception.

Everything is urgent. Everything has to be done yesterday. But you know for a fact that that’s far away from truth. Saving a drowning person is urgent. Putting out fire on a burning house is urgent. A fucking website? Probably not.