The Null Device

30/12. Looking at those digits brings home the realisation that another year is drawing to an end; that soon 2000 will join 1999, 1998, 1997 and so on in the vaults of history; dead things, ever receding and growing only dimmer. All that happened receding into the distant past, every day becoming fossilised, bit by bit; gradually transformed from recent events to the halcyon memories of distant youth.

At such times, one sometimes tries to summarise what happened in the past year, and all that. It's funny, but it's hard to think of a year as a coherent whole, when it's something you experience piece by piece.

On another note, I've still got no idea how I'll be seeing out the old year (and the old millennium, for that matter), except that I will most probably remain in Melbourne.

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