as nothing coherent can be written, an incoherent stream of words and sentences will be generated as a substitute instead. there isn't much time, there aren't many ideas. there are a few failed attempts. nothing to satisfy the tacit constraints that have been illuminated by these failures.
you impose constraints on yourself, or they are imposed on you, you adopt them consciously or not. live them out for some time, maybe some of them a lifetime. find their limits. some you painfully forge into their antimaterial twins.
both hardware and software disappoints me today. as does wetware. many words written, none admitted. some admitted. written and rewritten.
sometimes these disappointments and failures are decisive. how many thoughts have been killed by misbehaving equipment? how many processes irreversibly interrupted? how many times dead matter beat life into resignation?