earlier ohhhhhhh.... OHHHH!!!!!! feeling strange. right now, feeling strange. but oh, just look at that beam of light shooting in through my window... and look at the little lines coming up from the bottom part... recently there have been certain albums that i’ve gotten fixated on. albums coming out and listening to them over and over and over. first it was worst girl in america, and that was in march, and then it was.... then it was............ middle of nowhere, that was a week or so ago... and now it’s this lykke li album. mind you i had never yet listened to her successfully... oh my god dude the light coming in through the window is closing up. it’s now just a sliver, slightly more than a sliver... slightly more... and isn’t it interesting how the boundary where the light meets the darkness is somehow darker than the actual full-on darkness? that’s curious to me... oh man. it’s closing now, it’s fully closing. in one second... it’ll be fully closed... there it goes, and there it goes, and there.... and there.... and now.... and there.... its’s closed. it’s all over. just like that. can you imagine? something so temporary... it makes the mind boggle in place for a moment in time. my mind is slightly boggled by that little thing that happened just now. it was admittedly a little bit silly i guess to eat that big bowl of ramen right before dinner... right before dinner, really... huh. i’m all about killing time these days. i’m straight up murdering time as it passes by me. i look it in the face and i fucking murder it. i murder the shit out of it. that’s what i’m doing right now is murdering the shit out of time. i see time, and i pull the fucking trigger. i pull the goddamn motherfucking trigger!!!! daliwali and divinicide, those are my homies. it’s been a fine journey on neocities. the point is the point, and i’ve been cutting off all the points. i’m cutting off the points!!! my sinuses are starting to resolve themselves, i think. is the part of you that cringes the same part of you that is mortified when you are known? is that the same person, the same individual, the same part? is it a different part? i’m sure not... i’m sure even the suggestion of different parts of oneself is dualistic and counterproductive. and i do worry about leading people astray, of giving them false ideas about things.. i don’t want them to think of... you know.... things incorrectly, or to mislead them in directions that i have already tried. it’s the same impulse of leaving breadcrumb trails and of sealing off dead ends in caves in minecraft. it’s that same impulse to lead people properly so they don’t get... scorned by the modernity of it all. i want modernity to be... better. i don’t want modernity to be the sick nightmare that it is right now. but you get ads on youtube for fucking apps that are designed to keep you on your phone for houuuuuuuurs at a time, hours on end, and they advertise apps that are about turning pictures of your white child into an ai video of her dancing in a way that is so undeniably black that it’s just a fucking farce... we are fucked, bro... we are so fucked. it really has been the work of the last decade or so to take black culture and assimilate it into the dominant white colonizer culture... and like... fuck dude. it’s successful. like it’s working. and now you can upload a photo of your white child to an ai robot, and the robot will make her dance so remarkably on beat, and you'll post it somewhere in the metaverse, and you’ll get all this digital clout, and you’ll further lead people into delusion and psychosis... it’s fucked, bud. i find it really fucking tough to live in this world, to be honest with you. culture i feel like the amount of typing that i do is someday going to catch up to me and i’ll get some kind of perverse fucked up arthritis. my tendons are going to be the first things to go. it makes me think of my own body as a finite resource... and right away i get some fear of death, but then i’m reminded that death is beautiful and necessary, and the mortification is going to be a beautiful thing, and there is nothing to fear, and i correct the thought process before it can form, the one that tells me i don’t want to die... which i don’t. i don’t want to die, not before i’ve... what else is there for me to do, though? mortifi-cation i would like to be in love again, maybe? i think i’d like to be in love again. there are more beams of light getting closed up. they were to my left, and now they’re gone, and now there is no direct sunlight coming into my apartment. it’s 4:15 pm... it’s all over. no more direct sunlight. but what a blessing to get as much direct sunlight as i did, i guess? i want to be understood. there is a large part of me that wants and craves and strains to be understood. i wonder what happens after this. like, after this whole thing. tomorrow, for example, what’ll i do? i wonder. i wonder what i’ll do.... i just wonder. i wonder i wonder i wonder. the digital world, bro, it’s fake. it’s a fake ass digital ass world.