Helping make pigeons our friends in Downtown Los Angeles, CA, USA + iPigeon tech, lifestyle, commentary, and art.
Translate iPigeon.institute in to your native language 💱
Tuesday, October 19
An [imaginary] day of recognition for iPigeon.institute and for me, Jay Ammon.
Sunday, October 17
Another Downtown LA (Though Slight) Occupation and Riot - October 2021 DTLA Folklore.
Who could deny it, for either living here or ending up here, any time over the past several weeks or so?
Friday, May 21
Being a 'Normie' Guy Amongst the Age of Hormonally-Enhanced Male Subsets.
Of on Dick Big Now,
I, personally, could maintain that I'm not quite up to, or for it, given that my underlying psychological sexual affinities draw much closer to extended foreplay and orgasm denial.
Not that I'd been having much opportunities in heterosexual dating arise, any time recently, but I'm banking on that people live longer, in general, over time; I'll improve in my life's circumstances, over time, and I'm [unbeknownst, previously] just a particular someone who's time has come to a generational halt: the ones who enforce these types of upstart cells are jackin' juice, trying to keep up with law enforcement surveillance detail, and sometimes, or for correcting physical abnormalities inherited from birth, or from youth, in their nurturing environment's circumstances.
I'd casually experimented with Testosterone supplementation, on one occasion, in life, as a dumpster digger treasure-hunting bum, digging through a dumpster. I found a 1/3rd (or so) syringe labeled as testosterone in a dumpster, and I happened to be in the Fairfax district of Mid-City Los Angeles; nice neighborhood, so I figured, "why not?" I took it as that the testosterone was for external and topical use. When I got home, I rubbed some of the creamy substance on to my shoulders and chest, since that was the area in which I would have liked a bit of growth and improvement on. Over the next day, or so, I had developed a somewhat buzzing, electric feel, around the area, and the muscles that I'd applied the cream to had a dull ache about them, as if I'd worked out, which I hadn't, much, besides that I was out collecting recyclables.
These days, I'm a bit bulky hefty, in my upper body, and I'm significantly muscular in my legs. I go on long walks around town, several times a week.
Cheap trick shit, of a hooker, or « something like that », a Dick Big Now would commonly have of it. As for myself, I feel that I would be troubled significantly more so, if my penis was getting in the way of my life, in common scenarios, come to pass, as they do, all the time. For that matter, I'm circumcised. I don't have to worry about things in regards to my privates that my parents hadn't taken care of, already, and also based on what's known about health.
"The human race is in peril because of people who use drugs religiously."
- unknown male observer, 4:55 p.m., May 20, 2021.
At some point in time, I feel like many of my life's circumstances and problems do, in fact, arise from out of other people in life who take issue with me. The latest was just yesterday, where, the day prior to yesterday, I had serviced a client I'd met through craigslist, and he bore some resemblance to some other guy I'd known, previously. I don't really gossip about people; I try to keep it Christian, but the circumstance was that there was a debate over who was the most handsome tweaker Nazi of downtown L.A., or "something like that," whereas I'd garnered some support for myself, in the run for achievement of that end, in life, "supposedly," based on that women's remote personas were being portrayed as such.
So, I get pwned sometimes. It's most typically portrayed to me, in my mind, as *some guy." At times, the man is shielded of his identity towards me, yet only for an ephemeral extent of time. Inevitably, the man is ousted of his veil of secrecy, and intimations of that a law enforcement officer, or some sort of surveillance agent, had been figuratively embodying the interlocutor, imitating his affect and formant through means of technology, whereas the person whom I am familiarized with had been, in turn, himself pwned by surveillance, and a drama in which he is presented with me, imminently myself, somewhere else in the world, by most means of imaging (typically). For as much as the portrayal of me is worth, of for « thoughts | imagination | beliefs » sake, the man finds the novelty of me timely, and an adjunct to ascending the ladder of sociable capital and narcissistic supply.
Inevitably, when the ruses of transpired suggestibility become played back at me, I'm so commonly simply prepared for the relentless siege upon my freedom and autonomy, being that I am (and "we" are, for all intents and purposes) the same age as these people (I'm currently 39 years old), and I'd obviously grown up, as a child, expecting that I'd be living a family life, dating, settled down, working, more or less: standard stuff in life; I feign existential circumstance as though I'm now babysitting my school days' peers, as an adjunct mental health professional (although I'm unpaid for that task, and I hadn't gone through formal education for it; only personal pursuits in study of psychology and abnormal and antisocial personality disorders, of which subject had been of considerable aspirations, for me, in learning, given that I suffer from bipolar disorder, myself. The difference is, is that I'd had private medical insurance afforded me, through my parents, during my upbringing, and I'd been more situably appropriate for standing in on abnormal psychological stubs of egotistical and grandiose psychology traumas of my former peers, whereas I'd had a streak of wild financial and romantic successes, quite commonly, in my former early adult years. People became sick of it (guys, for the most part). These were guys that knew me as a different person. Don't people leave high school and establish their furtherance in successes in life, for moving forth in education or employment, via some route of expected progression throughout adulthood?
It's trite, by all means, yet I sometimes emerge as the « graces-bestowed » charismatic self-aggrandizing and condescending narcissist.
Shit as it is, compared to intimacy and affections, we're only as much as handicapped could suppose of the situation, of that the belief of « sight unseen, winner take all », although, upon offering things a second thought, or a few seconds of stepping back, and establishing composure, it's apparent that remote-sensing-initiated encounters levy us handicaps, at best; we're not afforded our imminent concurrency of our physical environment, for one; forgetfulness, listlessness, and glitches in thought processes and memory are common shortfalls in such a developmental environment, where drugs are undoubtedly most commonly involved, and humility is a character trait and virtue that had perhaps not been imbued upon the unfortunate children inside of them, abused of that many of us had been, of some sort, and that it had gone without acknowledgment, or corrections, throughout and up to this point in our early middle professional semi-adult lives.Other people are treated differently, by these guys. The entire premise of American values, at their most fundamental, is fraught with abuses and dissidence, through these young men, as if virtue itself was disposable, and extending in to quantum mechanics and communications intelligence industry and productivity means we're somehow on our minds, whatsoever, as children that we had been, as we knew each other, whereas people still find my childhood self relevant, somehow, and I'm left with only supposing that misfortunes had befallen them, as hapless abuse victims of their early developmental and nurturing environment's had been all that they realize and care for; our fathers being faulty, for as much as they could have been afforded in life, whereas now, excuses of merit and attainment are null concomitants in life, and expectations, in intellectual actualisations and capable selves, that we could, and ought be, are falling short of ourselves, whereas the tape roll may or may not have some active attention and oversight | followup, if you will, by some distanced third party objectivity mind about the matter.
In a more effective, impactful, and well-developed economy and society, intelligence would be expended liberally, as though we could play with the notion, while gaining in merits, for that developments, upon efforts, were the pleasurable pursuit and receipts of our blockchain ledger of harmonic tariffs expenditure that come to pass. At some point, artificial intelligence and machine learning superiority takes precedence over human-naked capable self, where quickness in perceptions to success ratios are commonly measures of intellectual merit, of just one form of merit, in intelligence quotient (IQ), and where cloud compute ephemeralities of remote sensing persona and presence, peering in, upon us, is the inevitable consequence of which we are afforded the liberal freedom of will, as it were, and given of that we are allowed our freedom of will, by our nation's constitutional foundry and formative statements. Surely, as some sort of anti-nationalist coup were to establish itself, we blurry the lines of distinction of identity, place and time, which had been regarded as self-indulgence partitioning of needs-based fulfillments pursuit, and "privacy leisure," such that I commonly end up finding myself commonly still pleasuring myself, watching pornography, whereas I'd had "good enough" relationships and attainments in life, to accept furtherance in needs fulfillment, such that I don't find, as a remote sensing abuse novelty, for men whom I'd used to know, in teenage and childhood years.
Surveillance causes entropy.
People appreciate their own sickness
in the same manner that a smoker has affections for their own smoke-flavored phlegm, during a bout with pneumonia.
Sure, a guy might have a bigger dick than me, and I simply don't care for it. Who could blame me? I'm fine with my own submissive fantasies; I work these things out, over time, and I learn what truly pleases a woman: being self-sufficient, self-reliant, and non-problematic, whether it be in bed or not, and how much of bedtime relations ought be a focus within the scope of a long-term relationship, anyways?
I'd shrugged guys off, recently, of a mounting psychic attack regime of on dick big, going on months, now, that it's been relentless like that. Is the threat of my conservative Christian nature aspirations in life seriously that much of a threat to men, of such a large swath of them? There are other men who are employed, for example, looking in on my topic issue remote sensing contextually, and I must say that the standard|-ly| employed demographic fares much better in resilience and self-esteem.
Let's face it, stalker guys. We're not quite allowed the full freedom and agency support of the authorities, themselves. I don't know what's going on, of on dick big, but I'd suppose that it's something as simple as Freud's plighted child and infant stage dilemmas, whereas I don't know a whole lot about masturbation and sexuality of a time before I became cognizant and linearly-minded, of the world. That happened around age 5. One of my first memorable characteristic knowledge contexts was that I knew how to pleasure myself. I became a classical pianist, and my hands were imbued with extra focus, for example, given the extents of my knowledge base and repertoire of activities I might have, and did - engage in. Musical knowledge is one of the 8 or 9 intelligences, after all, and people otherwise appreciate musicians, and their lives and livelihoods.
It's like, they can't stand the fact that I'm me, and I receive pleasure from up and out of myself, sometimes. It's a sad thing, to be sure; if I wasn't me, and I had to be myself, as well, of some notion, but people are supposed to have something fair enough and decent about themselves, in any case. I worked hard in learning, growing up. As hard as I was capable of; yet people had been doing this "talking at me" thing since my childhood, I'm sure. All of this sort of knowledge base will inevitably become formalized in the future, and acting out in one's "private" time would surely reap additional consequences, once the statistics in communications intelligence become analyzed for cost and casualties incurred, compared to benefits of « other cells » of people who were allowed to operate differently. Keep in mind - affecting me, as a personalized favorite target has very scrum little effect on society in general, whereas common society moved forth, regardless, and despite that abused like this are playing out. Sure, it's a "easy" target to exploit - imagining that "talking at someone" is as good as "actually" speaking with someone, but you guys are mentally and emotionally unwell and immature. I say that there's some dick big and Freud's Penis Envy, or some other genitalia-sordid context underlying the thing. My penis is just standard normal, by any measure of evaluation. It's just standard, but was sexuality simply this much the issue at all times, every day, though? Women are going to learn standard and appropriately proper "stuff," sooner or later, and weirdos will be sorted out and fall short in effecting well and nurturing relationships, for courting abuses and psychosis, inevitably of that these guys smoke or shoot their drugs, whereas I offset the potential for risk and danger by limiting myself to snorting, and I honestly just don't, and can't - [quite] get that high. I don't get as high as these guys, anymore, and I feel that they are getting that high, smoking and shooting their drugs, or whatever, and sexually abusing me, as a false idol, whereas I become the representative of the sexually-abused person, in judgment over them, for the fact that sexuality had been repressed and reprimanded of me, whereas I grew up comfortably, in pleasuring myself, and these guys are trying to boycott and abuse even that, of myself.
Saturday, February 27
AakHh! The forex markets close on the weekends! Now what?
I slipped in to the concurrency of such a notion, after having spent a day in Maguire Gardens at the Los Angeles Public Library Central Branch, which is a hoisty auger-wracked semi-seismic bwoffle of a hang out spot, for the layperson. Just next to the sidewalk, there is a construction site, of which there are, I believe, two other posts of major subterranean engineering going on - one by the L.A. Times Building, and another by the Little Tokyo Station, all set in place to embody what will be the Metro Regional Connection Project (… something along those lines, of a name). I set my obsessive madness of hawk-watching over my tenuous trades, as 2 p.m.(-ish) hit the mark of the day, which, as a ground-dweller, amongst the plazas of | and [the] high rise office and financial center buildings of Flower Street, there is a sundial-esque feel to the place, as the sun sits off, on the southern-more part of the sky, during this season, and the shadows cast by the buildings, along with the Santa Ana winds of the week, here, had (on my previous outing, and fixture, thereby, that I became, in to the afternoon); made up my mind that I could get about and on with my day, as a pedestrian - standard that the role would aught be, for myself, as a bird’s-flock feeder, around the civic center, of a couple or a few spots, of where the birds gather, I would normally attend to, and sometimes, I would pick up recyclables, and search for food, as well, as part of my daily outings.
The day trading thing was supposed to be an adjunct and ancillary development of intellectual and interest-based | (novelty) pursuit, since I’m largely assuaged and comforted by simple and nominal trifles, such as finding recyclables, food, drinks, and cigarettes, partially-smoked, as I traverse the paths and locales that I frequent, on my given day outings, of the days in which I make it out. One thing that’s been notable, about spending time in Maguire Gardens, is that the other guys who are regulars there, I’ve notice observed, is that they’d also been feeding the birds, which is a great relief, for me. I don’t have to worry so much about trekking out, quite so often, collecting recyclables, with my medication regimen, and the COVID-19 slight era, in life: somewhat crippling the recyclables collector’s economy of resources and materials to collect. Thankfully, unemployment insurance and Pandemic Unemployment Award money, from the CARES Act, and from other legislative acts and Executive Orders that have been quite timely and compassionate upon the small-guy earner, such that the welfare demographic, gig-jobbers, self-employed, and micro-small business startups, such as my Blogger enterprises and website domain establishments - we’d be unknown, to each other, largely, of my part, of knowing them, as individuals; (I typically deal with the Personality Disorder subtypes, most commonly, of this larger context of [-since] October 2016 until now; with me as a stalking victim, of the remote sensing and surveillance apparatus, whereas my humor and comfort level, about life, had become casually psychopathically a tristé, as it were, much more so, on my Twitter feed, where I cover all things that come in to the foray, in life, and banal that it might be, it made “coverage” thresholds of consideration, in the (-un)slight publication format that is Twitter. I say unslight, because much of my cookies, data science persona, and user feedback (to developers) metrics, intents, and returns, on concurrency-based matters, and institutional responsibility matters, and ethics, that it were, are all accounted for, on my latest version offering of my online Public Relations module, this being Twitter, with my account handle being my only outlet. It’s a scary notion, to the uninitiated, yet I’d become comfortable and adept at making sordid confessions, and the Deus ex Machina Artificial Intelligence adjunct computes-stimulations and suggestive themes and nomenclature derivatives, of situational and contextual awareness imbued me, many a time, with casually deranged and eloquently charismatic one-liners and supporting documentation and testimony, for pleading my case with “whoever” is out there, supervising and overseeing the matters that had transpired, from day-to-day - which had been going on, of an extent of continuity, since October 2016, as I’d mentioned.
In this day and age, of high technology, as standard, we outdo, by doubling, in speed, and performance; capacity, etc., every two years. Things along those lines, in terms of cutting edge technology offerings of the latest to come off of the production lines, in big tech offerings. For me to be stuck within a [same] framework of being, of some farcical notion of “remote-sensing” dramatics and “pwn’ing” {me}, of just “some” notion - I’d begun to start saying things like, “well, how much is anyone really actually themselves, with this sort of thing going on, in their minds?” The abandonment and use case factors scenario would come to mind, as the topic of dispute - the obsolescence factor, in matters at hand, in rating and scaling importance, in contexts in life, to come, and resume, from then, until now. For whatever that means, for others, as well as myself; yet here: I, and my family, largely, had seemed to become commonly abused, tormented, and slighted people, under the guise of that we weren’t “of on homie” enough, for these various, networked, or fancifully-designed cells of people, who had casual, acquaintanceship, needs-based, industriousness and productivity centered, - these sorts of ties, that could extend into my own understanding, yet the deeper tiers of companionship seemed to be embedded within these oppositional and “mysterious” [ooo… wooo…👐🏻] sorts of cells of individuals (who had become all but use “too trite,” to be blunt; yet I digress.
That was the backdrop to my life. I’m constantly seeking to embark upon a fresh slate, with accruements of what’s been salvaged, out of an identity that could be wrought, out of what I’d legitimately embodied and intended, of my young and early-mid (slight) adult life, whereas much of this sort of subversion in intelligence, and autonomy, of the socialist (or “whatever,” I don’t really know anything, off-hand) apparatus and activist movement, in life, had been going on since before I’d become superficially aware of these matters, that they are - as Personality Disorder subtypes, which I’d mentioned, previously, which, in turn, have been diligently wrought out, in analysis, and in the literature, such that meaningful and contrite counter-measures could aught be enacted, and embodied, of my own self, and fortitude, with my casual compatriots being the witting - or less - sufferers, of similar rebuke, standard psychology selves and individuals, as reinforcers, thereof. These ones were different, in my understanding of them. These ones had a thirst for economy, in the spoken word, whereas I’d simply been adept, in musical intelligence, of classical learning, early on, in my youth (age 5 is when I started taking piano lessons).
Then, there’s the world of currency trading, which, as an informal sorts institution, that I fashion of my ipigeon.institute brand and heraldry, (and perhaps I’m misgivings, on those notions, but I learn as I go, and typically only if I look things up (background check) the circumstance and topic at hand, if it’s a philosophical debate, or a meeting of differences, of the mind, that it were, at hand (sometimes I just accept the formative and fitting {enough} intelligence that suits my mind, and to suit, or to boot, at that. I’m fortunate, in that sense; to have a serendipitous outlay prospectus upon life, of that I’d come to have words to say; and let them not be that slight things would come to pass, upon the foray of things that I’d be known, of - as myself, or for myself. On Twitter, it’s a different trawl. It’s a non-edited sort-form, just like much of my writings, over the past several years - which I believe is suitable: the “thing” that had existed, undoubtedly exists. In the currency exchange markets, getting back to the point of things, of this article, what happened is invariably what happened, given the charts, and timelines of the fluctuating values of these currency pairs. Try as we might, as intelligence-validation seeking and needful people, that we might be, in the novelty-seeking subtype, we would like to, much more so, see our aspirations and intentions fulfilled; with currency exchanges, pairs, and valuations, there’s much novelty abound, in all instances of opportunity; at least, on a day like today, on Coinbase.
Trailing back, a bit, in the calendar, like we might, in currency trading, to get some further background perspective upon the present moment, and (perhaps) near future, in forecasting duties that we assign, of ourselves, if we take the technical analysis approach, to entering in to a position, in valuation.
I let the theme of the topic slip, out of the bag, as it were, by mentioning Coinbase. If you’d been following along, and keeping in, with my forex blog articles that I’d been publishing, and you’d come to the same such realization that I had, yesterday afternoon, in Maguire Gardens, that the markets close on the weekend, then you’d similarly be left in need of some sort of sociable effort, or gesture, as it might be, of your own will and becoming, of yourself, of something - something less locked in to the staring at the screen, and the charts, for the money to roll in, even better than it’d not, or it’s not, or that it might be doing, at some point, hopefully soon, in the future.
You can do the same sorts of things on Coinbase, to start with, in the weekend, off-hours. As well, there are various organizational and institutional underpinnings that have gone through the checkered flags, and made it on to the common cryptocurrency exchange markets that are Coinbase, and Coinbase Pro. (That’s what I’d gotten to, so far, aside from CryptoTab browser ({Pro} - which is required, for iOS Crypto [BitCoin] mining - I think; it’s $3.99, currently; I’m not quite sure that, or if, it definitely does do mining, on iOS | iPadOS). On the Google Pixel 4a 5G, it tells me that the hashes per second rate goes at about 1500/s, more or less, and you can outfit the mining to run in 2 hour increments - a sustainability concept; as hot devices perform less well, and they become ruined, over time. Affections for attentions-paid to the devices. That’s somewhat the rule of hand. If you’re not there to tend, ruefully, to the machine, with your affections, in CryptoTab Browser, then what is the worth of your device simply sitting there? - trying to mine BitCoin?
At this rate, and, as it seems, as a standard, somewhat, that CryptoTab Browser assigns to high-end mobile devices, such as the Google Pixel 4a 5G, of 1500 hashes completed, per second, the gains are nominal, on standard settings; yet there is an option for cloud mining multiples of hash completions, given user engagement at the device endpoint, in assigning the device to crypto-mining, for two hours at a time, in CryptoTab Browser, as it were - for a cost - I won’t say that certain multiples aren’t worth the money, if the user is a hard core dedicated one, to and for the purpose. On the standard 1x mining ratio, given the current valuation of Bitcoin, I’ve been pulling in $0.01 per 2 hours, and my device gets hot, while it’s assigned to mining.
Starting from an Android device, that’s appreciable enough, given that I have an off-hours trading platform, in cryptocurrency, which can be stimulating, and rewarding enough, with even as much as a $2 buy-in, to the establishment (users can purchase incremental amounts of cryptocurrency, of a few or several dozen sorts of cryptocurrency offering, and Coinbase also offers some rewarded user engagement opportunities, in the user interface, for newcomers to the platform. There’s an astute trading mechanism endowed to the platform. Price-correlated cryptocurrencies are noted in the bottom on any price detail page, of the Coinbase app.
Like any sort of validated commodity; in Coinbase, as with stocks and forex trading, for example, the timing view pane of the currency being examined offers different expanses of time, for the user to observe.
As I’d said; start simple and slight, in cryptocurrency trading. The Coinbase platform is one based upon garnering intelligence and knowledge base awareness of the utility and underlying functions of what these cryptocurrency items portend, within the ecology and scopes therein, simulating other sorts of fiat currencies that ostend the various global and international currency products of any given nation, or the public offering of a company, as it were, in stock trading and investments.
All this being said, it seems that the lead-up to Valentine’s Day supposed quite little of our men, of this nation, whereas BitCoin valuation peaked and spiked, at $47,000, and $55,000, within recent weeks. Even so, we, as $2.00 “starting off” investors, can, in fact, still invest in BitCoin, incrementally, as it were, just to dip our feet in the markets. It’s a bit more of a forgiving grounds for tinkering about, as a $2.00 investor, which I hadn’t quite considered, in starting out in forex trading, with a $100 buy-in basis, yet it’s completely viable, as one explores and learns the world of cryptocurrencies, for one’s own self, within the user experience that Coinbase offers. Coinbase Pro offers extended features and cryptocurrency | fiat currency pairs trading; I haven’t gotten in to that app, and it’s features, just yet, for the morning. Perhaps some other day.
Saturday, May 30
Opinion: What the nationwide uprisings signify, of a sociological and urban evolutionary perspective.
See for yourself:
Sunday, March 29
Who pays the toll of the confounding [f]actor's role in a role-weary incompetent or insane subject?
Somewhat -
Alright, « okay » like, I really needed that (most times), or, like, people really [don't] bother to conceal their formants, and self-such character-isms of speech and poise, but I don't really get the lack of sociable attainment, the thing about "just getting it done,"
Rather,
There's this vast contingency of avoidant (I'd forgotten about that one [of abnormal psychology]; the avoidant, the passive-aggressive, the decades gone on, in lacking sobriety and 12 Steps fundamentals, as life. People really do live their lives off of the 12 Steps, when they're in the supportive arms of truly good-meaning sober individuals - I've always self-managed my drug abstinence, because I have a hard time speaking with strangers, and some aspects along those lines.
For that matter, it feels like you guys are abusing the child of my life-in-suspension - I used to pull Tarot cards for this type of thing. But that was years ago.
Then, I became a person who simply never does the thing that is so characteristically immature, and short-sighted. I did the most menial of digital life-styling reputational upkeep, in cases where I had done others wrong (undoubtedly while in the midst of a manic spree on life; by all means, un-sober): I went back and apologized to the person - digitally, at that, since it was my digital Life up for self-criticism, and for matters of integrity of my self.
The point being, is that, all-in-all, I did do those things, and I could move forth in life flinching with the sour memory of those things lingering - nonewhatsoever.
Okay, there is this guy, and one other guy, I owe them each about $40-$45. Eek. That's literal money I owe, to leverage my business ethics statistical "perfect," otherwise.
But some of you guys (and ladies) - sheez, ... I guess maybe you guys (and ladies) perhaps never made it out past suburbia; whereas [I seem to have recognized destitute and laboring] {some guys} I've seemed to recognize, out in the open wild, while I'd been "trekking," and how natural the interactions were - just in passing; just maybe, it was "them."
Those kinds of guys don't have this passive-avoidant histrionic persona that pops in to my mind, and acquisitions some arbitration or leverage about my wherewithal and my going-for-show-pigeons better pedigreed self.
On one hand, there's the notion of replicable personae-identities, yet who would be comfortable knowing that I simply « believe » these horrible things about people? Some people.
Some people who don't really do Facebook « well, or properly ». And then, there's this whole thing about speaking in to the phone's speaker {thing} and the expectation that the audio clip-bytes reach me?
On one hand, I can concede that this is about as "crazy" as I'd come off, given my willingness to « once again » relate the long-windedness and intricacies of a schizotypal personality disorder, such that I have; whereas most people claim that they don't hear voices, whatsoever.
That's it, though. That's the limit of how « actually » crazy I look; it costs me a blog of relevant content, somewhat, to digress, again, in to abnormal psychology, once again, yet here it be, plain and simple - I'm 38 years old now, so's most people involved, or better (or lesser of consequence, for being third-person removed) - most perhaps-so. The opposing face-to-face second person disposition is truly a rare one, but I do sometimes speak at long-winded lengths about formative aspects of all expected contextual realities and foundational underpinnings, which lead to critical analysis of the "other" person, at hand, but that's not to say that many people who encounter me don't actually mean me harm, given a turn-of-my-back to them. They do, and I realize these things, even as they trouble me.
------------
Then, I inevitably get some web-crawler "bot" hits, after publishing the post to social media, and oftentimes, a colloquy ensues. But I'm moreso that I'd just rather be done, and done with the issue. I could do coffee, at a coffee shop, and forget about it, over a sweet one.
My blog stats - minutes after posting the blog and sharing it to social media. |
It could even be a home-spun drink, in a recyclable bottle - but these types of sociable accommodations just fail to get done.
What im im see, here, though, is an imminent troll-of-all-web internet activity, for lack of a better term, in the all-hours readiness to check out my latest blog, type of thing - which could only be « somewhat » okay. The thing of the internet of all hours "thing" is a tired subject - I'm commonly neurotically fraught with the consequences of having done a night of the internet of all hours "thing," and the cost of repairing that deed, with ionic minerals, with medications, with attending personnel and professionals about my mental health patient status, not to mention my social worker - these are all tolls of being improprietuous of what ends up being "for my sake," in which case I have to answer for my [obvious] shortcomings.
The desire to shield one's identity behind remote sensing technology is a dark, loaded vehicle, carrying the impetus of the person's wherewithal that could have been - for having jaunted a fresh, new, identity through stimulant abuse that many find so compelling; yet many also fail to remit a sustainable [or any some-such] contribution to society, whether it be digital or real-life. For that matter, I find that my schuzotypal self commonly lends it's nature to a more familiar term, in that I perceive it as an augmented reality - one where a person's reputation could « precede » their physical presence. Sometimes the voice {conscience} hanging over the shoulder of the guilty is a partner-in-arms, with the self of such person.
Thursday, March 5
Fleeing the iPigeon nest of home, once again.
Thursday, June 14
New Have-at: top cute iOS apps from [cross out] for an iPad-Photographer's-to-Illustration-Analog-to-Digital-Aficionado's Dream-Workflow-Status Array
- imaengine
- SVG Unlimited
- Adobe Draw
- Creative Cloud
- iColorama
- Adobe Concept
- Google Drive
- Hydra
- Tumblr
- AUM
- AudioCopy
- SoundCloud
- Apple iOS Photos
- iOS Accessibility
- TweetRoot
- Acoustic Picture Transmit
- Virtual ANS
- Euclid's Book of the Elements I + III
- Pret a Template
- Logotastic
- Molecule Design
- Fractals
- Kaleidoscopic
- Hyperspektiv
- Virtual Room 3D AU Audio Unit
- Domainr
- Google Maps
- Apple Maps
- Ads and Analytics - YES! On! All of them okay!
- Significant Locations
- Adobe Captivate
- Qleedo
- Agile Tortoise - Phraseology
- Meme-maker for iconic memes
- Wells Fargo Bank
- Wikipedia
- Map Area Calculator
- Arc-GIS
- Ibru
- Squeak!
- Concentric
- Gradient
- Meta + Exif photos
- Pro Shot + Perspective Fix
- Cross DJ Pro
- Licensed iTunes singles of your favicon songs! Perhaps futurebass mix 2 * and chill trap - YouTube for beats.
Latest post.
iPigeon.institute Local Botanical Item Spotlights - Mitica brand honeycomb, from Gelson's.
One of my more recent fragrance fascinations was with the raw material, the honeycomb. I'd once had a great sample of Beeswax Absolute...
iPigeon.institute’s most popular recent blog articles and posts
-
I procured a hefty load of chemical raw source materials for cosmetics manufacturing, as well as some ionic minerals, which I’ll cover sepa...
-
That being said, it's a particularly despicable sleight that was as simple as such: handed off of on any sort of personal respect and c...
-
iPigeon.institute User Privacy Policy The mobile app, web app, and scripting actions, and content of products produced of the organisat...
-
It's the year 2024. We'd had several months' lead up time, to this place in time (February, 2024), in which conversational AI,...
-
I know how compelling it seems. The life of a true and fully of on fwappStack developer, This is a mushStack, of pigeon mush food, for thei...
-
This is clouds on tilt. These are clouds on tilt. This is standard marine layer, with the morning summer sun, overhead, to the east,...
-
So, consequentially, I signed myself in to some agreement, which I had (mostly) looked over, yet it was some sort of thing about consent; fo...
-
curl -sSL https://~`/•^°\=✓*bwip!!.com/ installSlædeAeffe.™pac | sudo bash ???? {something like that, maybe} The point is to devel...
-
Welcome! [Potentially - ] to the team of people (and industry) in content publishing, design, and web [webApp] development of a large spect...
-
For first-time web | app (website-derived apps, or even in-page call stack coding “miniatures,” if you will) - somebody (like, myself), who ...