>Short and Sweet

>I sit here eating powdered sugar doughnuts after attempting to get re-adjusted to the world of internet programming languages. Am I an enormous dork? I am. Am I ok with that? Absolutely. I've been tapping away all afternoon attaching links to pixel values in bitmap images and linking external pages to inset frames... it brings back incredible memories of having nothing to do on friday nights and honing my skills conversing with other dorks on the internet, idolizing tutorial writers on pages like Spoono. Those were the good old days.

The reason for all of this lapse into the past is just four words: Slow Cars.Slower Jets. Matt, Josh and I have a good thing going I think. But of course I don't expect many people to understand what I mean just yet. One of these days, though, when these words reach more than the dormant eyes of the internet and the apathetic ears of the casual peruser, perhaps somebody will understand. We all want to be heard, understood, analyzed. It's a primal desire of humanity and something that we all share. That's why we talk just to hear our voices or why we scribble in journals at bedside.

That's all I really have to say, I suppose. Short and to the point. To all my (zero) readers, until tomorrow

Hamilton Barber

The subject of this page is an introverted writer/musician/lunatic from Chattanooga, TN who dabbles in lexical dexterity, unorthodox thoughts on prosperity, and being overwhelmingly undeserving of the privilege of waking up every day. He hopes that everybody who reads these words takes them to heart and leaps higher than he ever could. He reads, thinks, and speaks too much; he listens, works, and loves too little; and he says “I” entirely too often. The words on these pages are not his: they are the words that were given to him.