The Weave of PP Bands and the Silence of Joomla! 6.x

My Structural Philosophy.

This image was generated by AI.

Lately, I’ve been vibrating between two different "architectures."
One is the administrative screen of Joomla! 6.x, now as effortless as breathing. The other is the world of industrial-grade crafting, using PP (polypropylene) bands and custom jigs to build rigid, rhythmic structures.

Before Joomla! 6.x, the system was a relentless "debugging battlefield." One bug crushed, another error born—my life was dissolved in the quagmire of maintenance. Writing? I didn’t have a single bit of mental capacity for such a luxury.

But with 6.x, a haunting silence fell. Operation became too easy. This newfound "vacant time" became a luxury I’ve invested in my handicraft site—or more accurately, my structural production site. My fingertips no longer just touch the keyboard; they feel the hard edges of PP bands and the precision of the jigs I’ve engineered. This logical labor accelerates my brain.

And yet, when I sit down to update my blog, a strange phenomenon occurs: my screen is colonized by Katakana.
"Bug," "Error," "Tool," "User," "Update"... and then the heavy hitters like "Financial Planner," "Innovation," and "User Interface." Even from my workshop, words like "Polypropylene," "Industrial," and "Module" spill out like shards of a broken mirror.

I tried "correcting" them into traditional Kanji. Immediately, the prose became a stiff, suffocating bureaucratic report. English? No—that would cause the delicate nuances of my thoughts to evaporate.

I’ve reached a state of Zen-like resignation.
A "Great Literary Masterpiece"? That doesn't exist in my skull. My vocabulary is what it is.

Technique doesn't matter. What matters is the purity of the output—fixing the words my spinal cord reflexively chooses into the text, much like securing a PP band to a jig. If the result is a distorted, Katakana-heavy monstrosity, let it be. This is the raw voice of a man wandering between digital systems and industrial weaving.

Call me eccentric. Call me weird. I don’t care. I will march through this linguistic labyrinth exactly as I am. That is the logic I live by.