i am a quivering wreck of a man

'do you want to go head to head?' he drawled into my ear.

against thee wickedly. i took him down, 4-1.

'good game,' he said.
'yeah, i enjoyed that,' i replied, not entirely comfortable with the intimacy, but satisfied with some decent kills.

in disgust with myself, i lunged over for the power button on the x-box and removed the live headset.

now i see why (my step-brother) sam lives online.

i would not say i was good at doom, but partly because of my brother's fat pipe, i didn't lose to anyone. other people seemed to miss more than me. sometmies you do something right and you've no idea how, but over time you brain has simply re-programmed itself to do things like shooting imps and people better. you can't help it. but learning how to learn is a wierd concept. damn homonculi.

this leads me onto, bizarrely, a rather vague idea which keep slipping away from me - how the brain can re-program itself through nothibng more than thought. this i sentirely possible - well is uppose it's neuro-linguistic programming. it just blows my mind though - i'm sure i thought away my headache the other night. according to my mind hacks book, muscles get stronger just by thinking about using them too, suggesting some of that strength is in the efficiency of the neural pathways. the take home lesson is - playing air guitar makes you a better guitarist.

now i've got to burn off some cds, get changed and eat, and then get to the pub for 8 to meet a potential drummer. hats off to the zebras (or something).

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