It really whips the llama's ass!
Winamp and few more old games are live on https://t.co/XWVaITZOYL
Super challenging to get multithreading working properly - notice lil clicks when Credits graphics is active
Younger people don’t have a distinctive handwriting style like previous generations. They don’t learn cursive - because why when you type everything? So they have this childish block print, and it says nothing about them. In the past you developed a style, cultivated it - and it reflected who you were.
You had ‘experts’ who might tell you what your letter formation said about you. You had handwriting experts who might testify for or against you at trial to prove this or that.
It’s weird. I don’t physically write as much as I used to. And I when I make a journal entry or something - my hand gets tired quicker. There is an entire culture passing away before our eyes. Maybe it’s unimportant, but it’s real.
Person with ADHD: I consumed too much caffeine.
Neurotypicals: lol you’re about to be so wired and get so much done XD
Other people with ADHD: enjoy your nap
The Knowledge of "how" to drive through America is somewhat a lost art.
On the interstates, you can drive coast to coast and see almost nothing but ugliness, gas stations, etc.
You need to research and follow the old "US Routes" these are 2 lane roads from the old days.
My biggest problem with parenting-as-aesthetic is it has no humility.
When we pretend we can curate our family journey and kids’ childhoods into vignettes, we forget that the most meaningful parts of raising kids can’t be chosen or styled. We don’t get to pick who our kids are or what they struggle with or if they get really, really sick or when they have a hard time. We can’t guard them from heartbreaks or accidents. We can curate their toys until the ugly loud plastic one makes them giggle incessantly. We can pick their outfits until they decide that one horrendous team jersey is the only thing they’ll wear for months (ask me how I know.) Sometimes you bake banana bread, barefoot in the kitchen, but then someone drops something and someone else hasn’t slept and there’s yelling and tears but the bread turns out ok.
As a parent you’ll realize you don’t wish for your life to be beautiful or whimsical or luxe, you’ll be grateful your kids are healthy, pray they make friends, be glad you can feed and house them and they’ll never know how lucky they are that it all seems effortless. You’ll cry that you can’t take away their unique struggles. It will go too fast, and you’ll be glad you have a million ugly photos of yourself holding because they were so so little.
You’ll realize your aspirations are simple: happy, healthy, yours.