I wrote something all meaningful and stuff about how hackers wind up trusting each other more than others because of the shared desire to create incredible things, and how it manifests in doing things like holding wires together for inexperienced solderers. But then PubMed ate this tab and all of it was lost. Oh, it was so poetic, so stirring, that you may well have shed a tear and suppressed a wet sob in awe of its grace and beauty.
Or you could have suppressed puking like I did here when Bilal jumped on my back while I was swinging belly-first.
However, to their credit, Nate and Andrew did help me down when I somehow managed to get stuck in the swing upside down with my legs tangled up in the chains. They didn’t even laugh or take pictures. That’s trust, right? POETIC AND STUFF!
However, that’s Amanda fallen asleep on the futon there under that large pile of things. The pile includes several cans of spray paint, lots of copper piping, 2 guitars, a broom, and several tools. She trusted that it was an OK place to sleep, and we trusted that she’d be out enough to sleep through all of it. That’s trust, too, right? NOT POETIC…