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... it just looks like it really is shoooting in here... oh this is cool as fuck actually, the visual of it all... lykke li playing.... it’s pretty dope as fuck actually.

i like that recently there have been certain albums that i’ve gotten fixated on. it reminds me of ........ well, it feels quite novel, actually. this thing of like... these 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. maybe it’ll be nice to walk some of the distance to the u▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒. we can see how far i can get on feet and then take the subway the rest of the way. that sounds fun to me. i always love doing that. i always like getting into that flow of the walking, you know? and then depending on when i get down there, i can chill in r▒▒▒▒▒ park, perhaps, right? yeah, that would be a fine thing to do to kill the time 

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... and it’s like... it really is the type of thing where you are like.. it’s as if you’re looking at the sun with some of these folks. it’s like literally looking at the sun. that’s always been the case for as long as i’ve been a netizen on this site... it really has been the case the whole time... and i’m sitting here just thinking about how it is that we got here... it’s been a fine journey on neocities.

perhaps at some point i’ll write a full-on retrospective of my time on this site and all my encounters on it. that could be fun and interesting, don’t you think? it could just be fun and interesting... fun and interesting, in that order.

the thought occurs to me because this neocities shit is one of those topics that i write some deal about, but that ends up getting edited out of whatever final post i end up doing. and i’m in the business now of refusing to edit out some of these sharp edges. because isn’t that the point? the point is the point, and i’ve been cutting off all the points. i’m cutting off the points!!! let me get the points restored, can i? can’t i?

my sinuses are starting to resolve themselves, i think.

still nothing heard from b▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒ yet... nothing heard just yet.... nothing heard, and it’s all good, and it’s all fine, and we’re all good... and it’s fine. and we’re fine and it’s good and we don’t, like... worry about it. we don’t worry about it really in the slightest. because i know that all is as it should be, and this here and now is part of the process.

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 don’t want these people to be scorned by modernity. i want modernity to be... better. i don’t want modernity to be the sick nightmare that it is right now. i want it to be better.

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 then apps that are about turning pictures of your 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.

culture it really has been the work of the last decade or so to take black culture and to just 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 get all this digital clout, and you’ll further lead people into delusion and psychosis... it’s fucked, bud. i’m not interested in anything that is going on in modernity right now... i’m just not interested in it. i find it really fucking tough to live in this world to be honest with you.

flashback 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 of all the programming that i’ve internalized that suggests 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 s 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. and i’d like for it to be with b▒▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒. i’d like that very much. if i could have one wish at this point it might be that.

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 didddd, i guess? and anyway i was up on the roof for a good chunk of that time anyway.

isn’t it funny how much time passed and how much flow state i found when i was editing those two things for uploadification into the anthill? to me it is funny. to me it is interesting. to me it is the flow state. there is a flow state to be found in writing and then another one altogether to be found in editing... to be found in understanding myself enough for others to understand me, too........ and i dooooooo want understanding. 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. i have these little plans coming together for the week: tonight with a▒▒▒▒ at b▒▒▒, then friday at the art show with r▒▒▒▒▒ andddd brunch with e▒▒▒ that same day... and who knows what’ll happen in the interim. tomorrow, for example, what’ll i do? i wonder. i wonder what i’ll do.... i just wonder. i wonder i wonder i wonder.

all this impulse to return people’s digital communications.... i wonder how much of it is even real and how much i can scorn it and not reply and let it fall let it drop be done with it not speak of it not address it. i don’t have to get into it... i don’t have to get into it... i can let it sit there and fester and stuff........ i don’t have to be so responsive all the time.

because the digital world, bro, it’s fake... it’s a fake ass digital ass world.