finally put thumbnails up for the video pages, the last time i had thumbnails must've been in 2018 or 2019, i stopped using thumbnails at the time probably because of some half-forgotten aversion to "moodboardification" but it doesn't really matter anymore
i know already that i will wake up in honest despair in some pitch of 3 or 4. i set myself up for it in a ceremony of saving time by pulling it into the past. cold seeps dutifully, reliably, rusting and sandlike, frictionless between the curtain and the blind, instead of rushing through from another purchase of all the moon's light, but at this point i doubt it would've helped, i joke often and so casually about being shot by rays, aren't we all? what would otherwise ease a center rounded out by the debt of virtue lost to every decision building a legend of our agency? will it amount to the same wool and plastic over our head when it was decided that was enough to hide the annihilation
RHappy new new new year!
made a pile of myself, it wasn't a mess just itemizing, just inventory regardless it's still overwhelming because it isn't really all me it's like a lot of different things, sometimes made from the same things and you kinda wanna keep track of that and in the end maybe it's like any other manufactured good never built to disassemble, old glue crumbles with old moldings and there's an insatiable urge just to quietly put everything back again but broken
i can no longer cohere, or have i ever, or has it been a choice or instead an attraction or a circumstance that placed me beside those so far from me, like avalanche-stopping, say what about myself when someone's gone to school for it, spend enough time in a woven thing that is your life only by way of negative space, america makes experts in leaving details out. looked for a while and found nothing in knowing, a taste, expression, always and increasingly leads to the same, yet no virtue in the opposite, only another kind of caustic silence
became sick of words again and thought with who we know they were only ever good for re-gesturing the motion that has no end with a see-through body and neural bits spoiled with a frantic hope mostly splattered forth in front of other see-through neural bits besides, we see right through undeserving shapes of little mirror maze what gloom what rage or other thing and back to this and that afforded luxury like reassurance and a clownish dignity
ah, I remember you, glow. but everything shaped somehow slipped away. I would extend memory into recital, to comfort the others but I myself had emptied. if you recited to me i wouldn't know if it had occurred or if it was just another story I half-listen like a dream worth seashells or some softened pebbles
it's dark and rustling sounds are coming out from the brush I say hello, no response, the little creatures want to consume me and whatever stupid things I struggled to put together in my hands