If this blog survives longer than three posts, I’ll consider it a success.

If Project Linnea eventually becomes a working multicore system, that’ll be nice too.

I’ve started and abandoned enough half-finished write-ups to know how this usually goes. A burst of motivation, a post explaining what I’m about to build, and then silence for six months while the actual building happens somewhere no one can see it. The blog dies quietly. The project, if I’m lucky, doesn’t.

I’d like to try doing both at once this time.

Not because I think anyone is waiting for progress updates on a NoC from a final-year student in Hyderabad. I don’t think that. I’m writing this mostly for the version of me six months from now, who will have forgotten why a particular arbitration scheme seemed like a good idea at 2 AM, or what exactly broke during verification and how I fixed it. Notes fade. This is meant to be a slightly more permanent notebook than the ones I keep losing.

If someone else finds these notes useful along the way, that’s a nice bonus.

There’s also a simpler reason. I think better when I have to explain something, and I explain things better when I know someone else might actually read it. Most of what happens while building Linnea stays in my head, half-formed, until I’m forced to put it into words. This blog is where I force myself to finish those thoughts instead of letting them remain vague ideas that never quite become anything.

So this is what the blog is for: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Design decisions I’m proud of and others I’ll almost certainly regret. Things that work, things that don’t, and the occasional rant when something takes four days longer than it should have. If you’re here for polished updates only, you’re in the wrong place.

No promises on a schedule. Updated when I have something to say, same as the rest of the site.

Let’s see how far past three posts this gets.