The Chronicles of a Developer

Deus Ex Machinations and Dietary Capitulations

The morning of August 11th, 2023, a particularly enigmatic Friday, started with a damn POST routine. Not the usual morning drill of blink, yawn, stretch, and swear at the sunlight. No, this POST was a digital zinger that jolted the brain right out of REM sleep. As the static of the waking world buzzed around him, one thing was clear: he had dreamt in techno-color.

In this half-awakened trance, memories of a bizarre dream held him captive. It was as if our dude had a VR one-night stand with a Deus Ex game. He could almost taste the cold metal and gunfire. Either his last night's dinner had been tainted with some next-gen hallucinogen or his obsession with video games had taken a dark, subconscious twist. Seeing the world through Adam Jensen's cybernetic eyes, he'd wandered a dystopian base, dodging bullets and braving explosions. Was it space? Another dimension? Hell if he knew. All that mattered was he'd escaped moments before that damn base blew sky high.

"Fuck, maybe I should try out for the next Matrix movie," he mused aloud, already drafting an imaginary call to Keanu Reeves in his head. The details of the dream were blurring already, prompting him to jot down the vivid fragments on his mind map. After all, one didn't get a head trip like that every day.

Feeling invincible and in dire need of an adrenaline dose in reality, he boldly declared, "Starting a keto diet today!" Maybe that would make his body feel as lit as his mind. But, oh boy! The universe had other plans. Carol, that ever-wise sage from two apartments down, who probably last read a science paper when Pluto was still a planet, didn't skip a beat. "Keto's bad for the brain," she pontificated with a wisdom that no doctor, nutritionist, or anyone with a smidge of medical knowledge had ever mentioned. And like the flip of a switch, our guy's keto aspirations went down faster than a hacker's firewall.

While his diet dreams crashed and burned, he did manage to put in a solid hour on ACARIS. Only an hour, mind you. Perhaps the explosion from his dream had still left some ringing in his ears. Or maybe, just maybe, he was pondering what other short-lived diets he could try and subsequently abandon.

In a world filled with pixelated explosions and carb-counting, our hero's day was just another blip in the chronicles of technicolor madness. But, damn, what a blip it was!