#text object

vim의 가장 독특한 기능 중 하나를 꼽으라면 “텍스트 오브젝트”를 취급하는 기능입니다. 예를 들어 di) 같은 명령으로 괄호 내부의 텍스트를 삭제하거나, dd 를 사용하여 한 줄 전체를 지우는 것 등이 있습니다. 이러한 동작을 커스텀 함수를 통해서 사용할 수 있을까요? (more…)

I watch it all so that you don't have to watch.

The man in the linen suit jacket, bludgeoned in his own foyer. I watched the killer make tracks in the linen man's blood, out on the linen man's porch and on the linen man's lawn.

Why is it now instead of some other time? Some of them expect it and some of them don't. Of course one is never not living until the degenerate moment when one is not.

I watched the man in the suit jacket posturing on the floor.

It's not always secret, not always cordoned by night. But such as is seen by ordinary people on a daylit street is the stagecraft only.

There is no shutting my open eye. There is no dreaming of breezes and shady trees. There's a brownstone and a young black man. An apartment and a little girl. A crossroads.

It wouldn't be a just world unless someone saw. No one dies alone. No one dies in fear.

The man with the golden rings in a stranger's house. He's shot several times but it's the one through the thigh, through the fat blood-pipe in his hams, that's bleeding out. He moans and begins to feel cold. There's no moment per se; just slowness.

I can't do it all. Each scene is like another fissure. How thoroughly have I been cracked and broken! But I still hang together. That's my penance.

The man with the mustard stained shirt. Carelessly shot by a mugger in the park. His heart cored out and leaking in his chest. I sat by him as he gasped his last. There's too many thoughts for life. I know so much. I feel so wise. But what can I tell any of them? I can only watch.

Here's a young man on his mother's stoop. His buddies all scattered when the car slowed down. He was the only one shot. His neck is swollen and purple. His brain is swelling shut. A lot of them are young. I was young, too. I watch him until his heart slows then sags.

How can I reflect? Every scene begets a new scene. There are too many and every one must be watched. There'd be no justice otherwise. It's no more my justice than it's the linen man's spindly statue that does the killing.