I’m now in my first year of my Master’s degree in Computer Science and Engineering which means that next year I am supposed to start (and hopefully finish) my Master’s project and thesis. As a consequence of that, I have been thinking a lot about it lately. I don’t want to make a rushed choice that will make me work on something I don’t enjoy for over half an year.
Today, I decided to readd a watches page, but this time it isn’t built from hundreds of
posts, but from the data that I get directly from Trakt’s API.
I built a small tool called trakt-collector used
to collect your history and save it in JSON format.
In 2015, I started a project called http.hugo, which was a just a simple plugin for Caddy, a really fast web server built with Go with automatic HTTPS. At the time, the plugin was exclusive for Caddy and it provided a simple UI to edit your files in the server, rebuild the website and so on. They were just simple features.
Data, data, data.
Big data, buzz words. I have been wanting to write about data for quite a long time already, but I’ve never found a moment where that would be opportune for me. Data is one of the most important resources for companies right now even though we don’t acknowledge it most of the times.
I’ve been wanting to write about my journey at [Protocol Labs][4] for a while already. Well, for a big while but unfortunately I haven’t had the time nor the disposition to write: the last post I wrote was in June 2017. This is something I want to change.
On 18th June 2015 I went to Lisbon to attend the Landing Festival — a tech jobs event organised by Landing.jobs. I was 15. And now you ask: what was a 15-year-old boy doing in a job fair? So, I was there as a journalist for Pplware. Though that’s not the piece of information that matters, I have to thank a lot to them because they were my ground floor.
I was there. I turn my head to the left and I see a bullet coming in my direction. The clock stops. I stop. I see myself doing nothing. I see my whole life running throughout my brain. I realize that I haven’t done what I should have done. My whole life was a wire, an intermittent wire which is going to eventually break up. I see my children, I see all of the people I love. The time starts counting. The bullet reaches my heart and the wire breaks up. My soul stays a little bit more connected to my body, but it’s just for a few seconds. There isn’t one wire now. There are two: the one we left in the Earth and the one which handles our memories.
A word can be a very powerful thing. A word can change lifes, a [word can destroy worlds][4], a word can lead us to other words, a word can make us stop breathing, a word can make us lively, a word can kill us. As you can see, each word is a very special thing. But I’m not here to talk about words, am I? No, I’m not, but I’m going to start with a word: [time][0].
Everyday I hear people complaining here and there. They complain about almost everything: from the pencil which isn’t on its place to the government’s rules. I think is doesn’t occurs only here, of course. Maybe it’s a problem of adults (some of them, no offense). I see them complaining every single second. If you’re not this type of person, I believe you should have seen some of them.
Sometimes, I look through a window. My bedroom window. It faces the road. I see cars. There are thousand of them. All different: in shape, in colour, in size. But that’s only the outside. Their inside is all made of the same essence.
