Swap published columns for 24 entries from random.md

Retract the seven published columns into drafts/ and promote the 24 per-date
entries split out of Notes/random.md. Bodies are verbatim; titles, subjects
and slugs are new.

Make publication a matter of location. Notes/Notes.11tydata.js gives anything
under Notes/ permalink: false unless tagged `column`; drafts/drafts.11tydata.js
renders drafts at their real permalink under `yarn dev` and excludes them from
collections entirely in a build, so no template can surface one. Publishing is
now `git mv drafts/<file> columns/`, and moving it back retracts it.

Untagged notes were previously rendered into _site/ and deployed — including
Notes/random.md, which was live at /Notes/random/.

columns/2026-06-01-dead-weight.md

@@ -0,0 +1,83 @@
+---
+title: Dead Weight
+date: 2026-06-01
+layout: column.njk
+tags: [column, philosophy]
+permalink: /columns/2026/dead-weight/
+---
+
+To be born into the world in such a cold, plodding process.
+
+We've risen above slaves, and are in awe of ourselves, our presumptions of merit and insight, that not despite, but because we rolled in shit for so long we're endowed with a greater gift than those who have carefully guarded their treasures for so long.
+
+Do the great masses have god-given rights?
+
+Am I so desperately trying to convince myself that I'm no longer one of those rolling in mud and filth?
+
+Oh how badly I want to feel safe - like I escaped the misfortune. That I am now one of the blessed few.
+
+But then to witness the silver spoon society, untarnished and unblemished, high and mighty tromping about the world and I feel small. I feel desperate again.
+
+Where is my advantage? Wanting to get further ahead. Like so many others.
+
+When there will be a faster, smarter, smoother other, how do we go on? It's one thing to believe in change - but I will not escape myself.
+
+The ruminating, preoccupied masses, so overcome with their own feeling. And am I one (pretensious asshole)?
+
+This is the work - I am smothered and overcome with my own self-doubts. I do not afford myself the judgment, I deny myself the perception.
+
+Other people suck.
+
+Sitting idly and complacent. Indifferent and passive. No wonder I don't want to connect or try - they're so damned dull.
+
+Is that true though? or am I just making excuses?
+
+I'm trying to say that I don't feel like I belong among the vibrant ones. But that I find the dull ones intolerable.
+
+Am I worthy? What have I to show?
+
+I judge myself. Incompetent, inadequate. Irrelevant. Unnecessary. And am I wrong?
+
+If I threw myself off a bridge tomorrow, the handful of people who might care would also soon forget and move on, or themselves be erased into obscurity after some time had passed. The rest of the world wouldn't even know.
+
+Do we over-value life, simply because we're too afraid to face death?
+
+Do we over-value ourselves? The best kind of dead weight sees itself and cleans up after itself. The worst kind just kicks around like trash in the breeze.
+
+I am unnecessary. I am replaceable. The pain is ephemeral, and so local that it will evaporate instantly.
+
+I guess I don't have anything positive to say.
+
+I want to destroy myself - the only shot I have at living. As if the thing getting in my way is too much dead weight I just want to dynamite.
+
+I don't know - I'm uncomfortable with myself. I'm disappointed, and so stuck in my own discomfort that I can't see beyond it. And the best I can do is imagine upending my entire life because that is the only way I see around the pain.
+
+And why? What right do I have to feel so hurt.
+
+For every president, history is littered with a thousand corpses of also-rans.
+
+I don't take what I went through seriously. As if it wasn't supposed to be a burdeon. But I felt like a failure to launch. Imagine if I had stayed home this whole time.
+
+I can't enjoy the wild discoveries of other people. Because it makes me feel like I fell short. Didn't measure up.
+
+It hurts to see how much further ahead other people get. And to put so much meaning in being stuck in the middle of the pack.
+
+Like I need to know my place and get comfortable.
+
+And the only reason I'm able to make any progress is because of the work of others. But I'll never catch up to those who are so much further ahead.
+
+Fuck everything about this.
+
+Fuck everything about being trapped by childish dreams and wants and desires.
+
+Fuck everything about the melodrama, the self-pity.
+
+At the end of the day, I choose to make peace with myself, or to revolt. What's needed for peace? What are my demands? It just sounds like I'm angry for being myself.
+
+I'm angry for being myself. And don't see the value in my life.
+
+I'm busy looking for parents - people who can pick me up.
+
+I don't know how to look for teammates, partners, people we work together with.
+
+I'm I'm I'm I'm so fucking sick of myself and my myopic attitude, and my