you know, glossaries can be really beautiful things. too bad i don't care about beautiful things

don't think i've ever tried before,
be artist, we say cultural producer to level, we fight with reason for equals, but
we are artist, more than i know anything else, and it is killer, because its not kind with labor
and there is no correct, we heart formulas, but we can't and we see people succeed, full with
apathy and calculable drivers. and, self-preservation, can't compete, total naivety, we feel it
we artist-thing.

i want art to want me as much as i want art

fuck, even just a little bit

*i've only ever really wanted one thing*
*or only thing i've really wanted but couldn't make happen*

*after my heart*

What we do not want. We have had a surplus of — and so are putting a moratorium on — fiction about white American men and their dull accoutrements: gasoline, cigarettes, whiskey, fighting, sitting around, dogs, the military. If you insist on sending us a story about these topics and about this type of character, please, for the love of god, make it satire.

Disclaimer: The author is fully responsible for clearing © for all material submitted.

i don't go to sleep to dream

Have you ever thought that maybe you're not as queer as you thought (like your % were off), after all these years, because you had a dream with a friend in it 2 dreams this week where their arm turns into an animal that you have a strong impulse to pet and care for and you are like, "I should not be wasting my subconscious energy taking care of a man!" And, also, you don't even think you know what their arm looks like in person, because you tend not to look at people's bodies, and strongly hope no one looks at yours. And, you feel incredibly guilty because they are implicated in this weird dream, and you feel invasive even though you would never choose to dream this. And, then you remember about compulsory heterosexuality, and life makes sense again..?

Yeah, neither have I.

shifting our shape to your shape

So excited and bubbles, loads with ideas. Like loaded and weaponized. Subversive calling. And, why was everything cast so stale and lethargic during grad school, and now I really need the space and time and resources to make--I'm not sewing or writing a book anymore, but don't you worry over200poetry for July+counting--I want (gross, go big) to take institutions down with, most passable, installations (some digitals too, high-end-criticality, some digitals). I'm punk on the inside, collar and tie on the find.

+no worries, out-with-character+

*we will always perform for you*

But, rn, just happy (w/e that is).

*and, we lied when we said we wanted to

sell out. that isn't even in possibilities*

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i want to be an invasive plant

and i want to invade the institution
and installation is for institutionals

and centralized interactive work that
is analog and/or digital performs as
something equal to such a contrived
space and centralized body responsive
work suggests surveillance across these
platforms and surveillance always connotes
observation and a fulfilled attempt to control
but, some hope, the body through action-agency
can also change the language of that determined space.

and it will all be so pretty and attractive and spectacle like
happy installation art is supposed to be, which enjoyment can
belie the processing at hand, some touch, but that is making points
we want to establish a rhetoric of amusement park, some propaganda

maybe it's just something that happens after you leave grad school

you know, that thing that happen when you feel revived, and excited, and readied to work again. when you remember who the hell you are, and you say things aloud like, "that is such a great fucking idea." about something that entirely transpired within your own mind. and you are 100% certain about how to describe it, how to execute/design it, and that it is good, like really good, like without crippling self-doubt. and, somehow years of staleness fall off your body and you aren't concerned with what you've done nor of leaving past typified work behind, and you just want to indulge in the art of the art con and find it hilarious and realize you can make work that fuels your politics and work the system and take this down from the inside, but first you have to get inside and first you have to $$

esp when the howls are not heard

full bellied, stashed
vocal chords
been cut
they
like
i
t
wetter

*your title here*

burning slowly can attribute mostly to an unstable marketplace for my whatevers

unregulated capitalism...the very word is repressed these days,
i don't do too much stalking, these days
a symptom of the formation of the return. debate activism.
after all this time i cannot believe in you, forgot.

"dogma in the face of slack conviction"

depressive position, recessionary drive. a hard drive with bloodless flesh, what was it again in the social connect? we are clinical injustice for understanding fault lines and we never shut up at all. 

i formulate leaders and mitigate workers

Captain Planet
Capital Planet

apprehending transcendental displacements, like we always enter with the strangest
girl on the planet. turning them into epic character subjects to unfill pathetic fallacy.

on the couch. always stay with me

dynamics of transference and vast realms, some flattened forms
that is the thing, more or less something else, a call without return
make critical artificial, but i don't think that way, fool with concern
whether they lack phantasmatic components, knuckles deep, or knots

kinds of problems produced by a runway

perspectives on capitalism, a difficult question about the globe. call we setter. legacies of resources.

critical consciousness, my friend(!)

I want your opinion, why is that always surprising when I propose inappropriate personification of institutions--if that is what they do too. And, every move is a political move. Identification to bear on.

friend of a friend, i liked you then, let's meet again

everybody has domes,
inherently relational, and
for incorporation, some tone.
a people for the presence, and
having said that, i'll share my room

i fear the cool air going in and going out my nose. breath in. breath out. it feels good, though

remain stuck on subjects without affect. possessive individualists didn't have to look a certain way. the fact that we make a ceremony out of it. overheating tools. some hardware to discern from soft skin, pulling objects from hats, because they are good with their hands.

what does it mean for a new human being to smell the real smells, see the color of the real colors, feel the real textures

discoloration of satisfaction, kid, i'm sure you will
i wrote in reaction, why i like the talking and head
alternative, just agree with everything they say, because
they don't want to be contradicted, they just want to live in their fantasy lands.

mono. whatever you think your life is going to be like--mono--nothing like that.

Reagon is coming! It is impossible to imagine what is next.

politicize planetary depression and avoid the trap personifying a preparation for Y2K, dolphin-shaped ballons overhead. super individual entities whose logic is coextensive and decisions are infected. input group, "you cannot let her sleep here if she isn't having sex with you, it is disempowering."

my mind is a dysphoria, they are inappropriate

I had my chance. Twice.
In all political terms: unstoppable downward spiral. Bye.
Social and economic life they evoke in relations. Thrall.
Do I seem stuck? Out.
Corporate forces undermine them in a word. Condition.
It's not serious. Then why do it? These gestures. Sounds.

when I started they weren't bad for you

sitting
smoking
alone

laying
under
folds

no clarity in this extreme weather

her friends couldn't deal with her being sick
so she asked her mom if she could move back home
and she got a job working for the news press

shake for ten seconds. okay. leave undisturbed.

catastrophe in slow motion.
under these conditions: suspense.

a cool cigarette walk.
think about what
you look like.

some soft t-shirt to help you through this hard part

you have birds with names and types,
uncannily foretold experiences became a part
we entered this state, looking straight,
I'm fine, I'm good, I learned a lot.

acid. poison. water. rain. political trope: under these conditions.

smiles across the table. mired in passivity, I won't make much of dinner

okay, I am comforted by knowing
as much as I can see. I was hoping
you could be here. Like bad news.

a well-meaning and pragmatic, yes and no, you are benign
many photos of the shoot, depression from the muscle wall.

some model, casting all calls, staying anxious

respond accordingly to realities of contemporary life, to painful realities, a way of ensuring the mind within, conveying protective signal in a history without being consumed by it.

loading...its consequences for the present...enjoy the silence

you      which holds the same frame
said
you      even pretense, I'm really
were
going
to pull
out, I      am burdened for
thought
we had    an extended period, sorry
a deal
there

I'm going to need a story.
I can't just be myself? No.

()your hair smells good. {}i make my own shampoo

and sometimes a screen is a memory too

we broke into that old pool at the rec center
art offers a means for such suggestions
and we got loaded and fucked around

some technique, a text about you, dreading forward

recognize our own aggression, a warfare, some reflections allow a present in past

to understand the dynamics of spectatorship with an unconscious and therefore overdetermined memory.
lapsed     pacifist
anger      heaped
we aren't talking about me, yet, body became a projection of people's anxiety and fear, a fixation for many.

a picture of a picture of my run
it is a little sad.

they told me it was just a game, the Other pushes on your diaphragm, it took my Self a half an hour to wake up

we are a fainting thing
and it is just fine, think
about it, it is not enough
thought about it, that stuff

they have volition and autonomy and a bank account

was just reminded that my mom sold her at&t and ibm stock in the 70s to help out her older sister

*we are always helping out our older sisters*

back to life, so to speak. it's in the script

what is called critical, all political, extrapolate, a future, now,
when"the personal isn't so political anymore" disbelief
"yet public life is inseperable from the psychical realm."

tv broadcast proximity panic

a few thousand howls, public
blind spots, double binds, toys
breakdown the problem, represent
let alone the complexities of own psyche
politics are drowning in language, deniers
self-determination, ceaselessly about how   human will can triumph, even over institutionalized...

daddy we productions

a subsidiary of
DaddyWe Productions

organize really impotant hypertext

i was always really interested in fairytales, esp
as early memes of policing bodies, constructing
norms, as ideals, 'unacceptable' behavior explicate
and i so wanted it to work, to talk, use device to subvert
body-policing, but fairytales are embarrassing and used for evil.

flight up. photoshoot. trip, first you. finger-lip. emergency light thing

construct we more we like it. <rolls off the tongue so well, goes without scene sarcasm>
text goes transparent, always <so unknown, goes without seen sincerity>

I couldn't sleep, so I made this thing--if we are being honest--so did you, you like partnerships, I'm sure of it. Fan fiction and a long milieu.

Trying to Digest the Impulse (April, before May)

figure out exactly how to explain.
now justify, in three years, like no other
remain questioned like no other.

an exaggeration and satirization of positions given
some institutionals are for installations, and maybe

we don't play blame, because we play all sides, leftovers in mind.

choice and worth and meta and self-mocking and by 'self' we mean
we mean, and say all with same proscribed identity, eat with me

exploit. macerate, push-point-absurdist, shook in critique, what is gained...

somethings are called words like life, but whatever that is? Words.

Family: to remain dependent, or, rather, co-dependent, to work within a closed system of 4 people.
make own decisions, some psych drama
no freedom from guilt of leaving,
some tweens always lead to pain

fundamentally selfish people, like everyone else, unwilling to acknowledge that their
brand of selfishness is no better nor worse than another's version of self-propagation.

removeobjecthoodandputherinasafespace

The only time I've really been seen was by a 1-800-psychic I called when I was fourteen. She said that she could tell I was smart and talented, but that I needed to come out of hiding.

Most people are not generous with their eyes, ears, mind...

and, I know that is a depressing sentiment--that I've been the-best-seen by a stranger across space--but I don't have any choice but to own that now. Understand it. Use it. Observation serves more than what is being observed. In the past, I would have made it a farce, avoided feelings, for worry that it would be too emotionally tasking for others. Still could. It is needy, and, well, disregard the privilege problems, and, lack of a sense of humor for own melodrama.

But these platforms are echo chambers (could we say something anymore cliche?)
And, we've never wanted anything from anyone, but self-sustained.
Note to self: when was it okay?
Misery porn is so 2014.

I WAS TOLD THERE WOULD BE LAWYERS AT THIS PARTY

I was about to graduate from school with a degree in Fine Art, and I was told there would be lawyers at this party. I was about to graduate school with a degree in Fine Art, and I had no prospects for the future. Harry Styles won the US Presidential election 6 months earlier, and I had no prospects for the future. And, I was told there would be Canadian citizens, who also happened to be lawyers at this party.

*then they were architects*
*then they were librarians*
**then I was IT'S LILY!**

i want your attn but deny you my affn

some surprise in how lazy the ambitious can be,
certain in repeating sentiments, but assures
that ambition only necessitates care and attention to one thing and those who can aid it

some love with idea. future bring fiction readied for us.

to write.

so tired of being written. no emo
allow for social complication, some
nuance, softness is radical on the far end.

so killed with masking to soft. keep
full self-reflexivity and harden it, soon
only in self-awareness, actions and same
and mode, unchanged.

wishing for that entitlement to push my futures on others.

download tutorials: that maybe commercial

can you feel something without touching it?
can you see something with you eyes closed?
   *you can when it revolves around you*

we feel you,
we see you,
we privilege you.

the sacred and the comic, what a cloud

everybody knows, you're written in her book.
 the symbol of the mirror was forced
she's going to smile to make you frown, what a cloud.
 as signifier of owned bodies as spectacle-for-another
she's going to play you like for a fool, cause everybody knows,
 she's the guise of own narcissism, what a cloud.

the self-help groups extract, she thinks she doesn't need
the ideological tension between between body and machine.

i thought of you as everything i wanted, but couldn't keep

if i could make the world as pure and strange as i see
the mirror is in front of me. mountain top, millennial pink.
*linger on*               *your pale , blue eyes*

some child's voice, not mine, pure nostalgia, in
time before poetry read like lilo on a bender, taken
for advantages, even by    *i skipped my life completely*

i'm learning to lie better, for you, with improvements, i'm sure
it was good what we did the other day, the fact that proved that
you aren't my friend

i'll see you when, you're here again. don't take a rest, we'll let you in

   *biggie*
   *biggie*
   *biggie*
can't you see

all the times i had a chance too, i saw your trailing
my words are a lover, sure with some laughter, radio waves
these days

it's just that i've been losing so long. i'd stop my dreaming with red clay.
please don't recount my failures, i will confront them someday. someday.

time is over, it's cold again

i'll help you with your home and work, i'm feeling old, what could really go wrong?
it's the end, friend of a friend, now you are opened, i feel cold, why can't i hold you?
some disaster on books, friend of mine. sweet, feeling old? we should come, it's feeling cold again.

hi my name is mike and if you are watching this video while smoking your cigarette, well press fast-forward because i don't smoke and i don't like smokers

i go to bed feeling the same way

what this book is about, these people, are a little more free-wheeling than computer hackers

they are interested in physics,

can't start a fire without a spark

sometimes you just want to listen to some 2000s nerdy electronic rock

without being reminded of your sister's evil ex, and all the "famous people" he knew. teen-fuckers ruin everything.

and rethink that time in your life, and with some distance realize they were all probably shit too. some mild fames, miserable 'fames', you know, pitchfork top 100--that is still 100 people. a lot

like, when they wanted to play the piano in the hotel lobby so that you believed they were classically trained,

or wanted to play chess with your body, circa 17, at their 45-year-old-industrial-post-porn-goth-legend's giant house,

or watch them play out their mid-20s crawling like lobsters on sidewalks, putting you on the list at their club night, most valuable 16.y.o, dance in bubbles, drunk watch them eat pancakes at Dennys, 

or had their road crew fill a small pool with jello and you, "don't have to have a bathing suit, just wear your underwear" and maybe you could fight their ex-gf in that pool and they are good because they are straight-edge,

or, all locals, after their show on the beach, they tuck hair behind ear, squint eyes in sunlight and tell you to read On the Road, that it will change your life, that you will run away from home and travel across the country, "forget college. it will change your life, you'll see." takes your hand, "you'll read it, right?"

you had already read it.
bad you, read them too.
mostly because, locals.

"I'm just a simple girl in a high-tech digital world"

straight-up quoting 2003 Jewel now
(this is the most ironic I've ever been)
((in my life))
(((normally my sincerity is startling)))

the difference betweeen the note I would write to someone I barely know when I let them borrow a book versus the note someone I've been in imposed social contact w for 2 years when they return a book I've let them borrow...

and, I'm always cast heartless.

and, now some lyrics to a song I am listening to in your mom's fave coffee place,
it is a Jewel song, apparently:

I'm just a simple girl
In a high tech digital world
I really try to understand
All the powers that rule this land
They say Ms. J's big butt is boss
Kate Moss can't find a job
In a world of post-modern fad
What was good now is bad


It's not hard to understand
Just follow this simple plan


Follow your heart
Your intuition
It will lead you in the right direction
Let go of your mind
Your intuition
It's easy to find
Just follow your heart, baby

You look at me but you're not quite sure
Am I it or could you get more?
You learn cool from magazines
You learned love from Charlie Sheen

If you want me let me know
I promise I won't say no


Follow your heart
Your intuition
It will lead you in the right direction
Let go of your mind
Your intuition
It's easy to find
Just follow your heart, baby


You got something that you want me to sell
Sell your sin, just cash in
You got something that you want me to tell
You'll love me, wait and see


If you want me, don't play games
I promise it won't be in vain

Follow your heart
Your intuition
It will lead you in the right direction
Let go of your mind
Your intuition
It's easy to find
Just follow your heart, baby

*hahahahahaahahahhahahahha*
**kate moss will always have a job**

all ludicrous sensibilities. sense and sensibilty

magical image represents a critical facet of your personality
big issue for you at the moment. great powers available
a close friend, or a loved one right now. Fate, Universe
behind the scenes to make a dream come true.

All your skills and talents are invaluable,
but you also have fate and luck working for

Self-doubt is your biggest enemy, have more confidence.
suggests inner struggle between restraint and impulsivity.

no one wants to hear about anyone else's dreams, so we platform here, a place for safe

but, we barely remember now, just mostly that it was vivid and revolved entirely around them--a relatively new and superficial--although, perhaps that isn't quite true--friend...someone we hardly knew made such an impression, and we worry it is the same as it always is with he/s, that these are just phantom feelings of strong affinity and association, because of their attentions, because another's attentions seem to imprint, sometimes transfer, not always--they must have a strong sense of play which is always accompanied by a strong sense of magic or fantasy--and we know these are confused in all high-strung compulsory heterosexuality, but if dreams say anything, less sex, more familial, but
what do we need with more family when we neglect and are neglected by the ones we have at hand:

some animal, with strongly ribbed back. we traveled by bus, depth conversation, side-by-side 
(not so unlike real past--convos better than we've had with...thing-between-we...yes, "thing" is the right term to describe this person, and we swear not for the reason others would think: they all surface seen and there is no real there, but they are great with fake--honestly, full Aries, fuck them for that) 
some animal from his body, certain attachment, but we take and cradle, in theater, he unable
(it is so grossly hetero-normative, we would never presume to take care of he--another's body, nor handle his animal, that is what scares we, some cultural thing, affliction we've never fully escaped)  
fluids, feeling of affinity, of sameness, of identities erased, and want to be near despite abject
(visuals and emotions and we never really remember dreams anymore, usually work until pass into sleeps, but we have been getting 6-8hours lately, full privilege and decadence, soon it will be over)

little seed is brittle seed, and is in hate with we

we were taught not to hate, which is so corny, but valuable

but we do not want anything to do with those so unresolved with themselves--where real hate evolves from--signed, a very strong personality, and a very strong sense of self,

--and we wish you futures in the similar and you have some years to catch up, but that isn't an insult. there is some appeal in youth...even when it resides within emotional intelligence and social acuity, beyond ages--we free-pass you always, though
                                                                           we will now pass you always, though. you did it first

it's that question you started asking in childhood, and all adulthood couldn't erase, with certain innocence and simplicity still,

can you grow without support systems and nourishing roots?

all contemporaneity is in lies, there is no "concept of FAM" for some.
                                                                                                       lone wolves!

                                                                                                      (seems less sad to end it this way)

it has been so long since we have written something real

*parts of me are dying all the time*

funny, tarot, what makes you think i'm not the head in my household, circa 12 years old

"head of the family (his personal kingdom) rules. subjects benefit from the lifetime of wisdom: Sunday a personal problem could be resolved by calling on the head of your family"

aka, same as tower, rely on your own resources...like always. help with self and out with it

still unconvinced that we don't need something more radical than empathy

"On Friday if a state of affairs should arise that causes hurt feelings, it may help to be reminded that there are those whose wounds never heal."

the wounds that don't heal are the systemic ones...the personal is a one-time shot /or/ can be evaded, but the systemic repeat offends in many ways, even by your loves, unknown to them, we cannot crawl out of you, *crystal-heal-me, empathy* mostly you are word without action. give me object

your standards are too high, you are picky, you don't have time to waste, you need support

because saturn will suppress your much-loved independence until the year's end.

*my horoscope is the stereotypical norm cult mom I never had*

**really do gotta stop fucking with people who don't have my back...and who I barely like**

***thanks, mom!***

****and yeah, fuck those ppl, for real****

**8**also, we is "those ppl" for some ppl, so**8**

gravity, some force that satisfies multiples

the best thing about walking downhill, in the dark, without your glasses on, into a wood,
is that gravity makes for the magic people from the past felt, some fairy tale, and fact,
a force is pulling you towards the darkness between the trees, towards the little shadows
and lights, translucent things, moths and fireflies. also, rain is fun.

elemental plays, and thinking about how Bruce Willis crying at a space-opera is subversive, ty Vice

luckiness to be fire, one walk
water, earth, and wind, easy to
come by. as moving, burning, always
we complete scenarios with our presence,
and that is why fire signs are the most confident.

we aren't lacking, biome

technosocial wormholes, hello puberty

amber, there is no way we don't have friends in common.
"these are all the people we have access to right now."

models of worlds crafted through intervention, generators

of commodity fetishism
unquieted here, undead
things of lively nonhumans
for market relationships with
you               reify the "selfish game"
father of memes, call we out troping

readings in my hand, a creepier haircut

i acquired this sequence with substitution for power supply
shenanigans in these jeans with his name still on them.  i bleed real soon
i hear my voice, totality of genes in an organism, easy. convenient maps of life

repurpose of reality, smile no suggestion, wait for it

i won't bite if you sit real still
i can heal again, human garbage
sometimes i hear my voice and it's
them. defending some busted blogger

clinical acting unsupported by their sources

a huge amount of data, depend on me                 nature is neither our friend
their idols don't smell, handles out                      most ominous events, hot
aspirate and breathe my breath                           all to call resentment ends like
in a workday i'd be able to make a hand             pick up the hook and feel that

*moans in response to the camera*

less and less behind. a life-long memory
thigh and one right above the deep end
a possibility we 've numbed, come undone
a bit about us: you take it. take it. take it.
affect the changes we are seeing. i ride a lot.
open roads. honey is separate. put the rule right back there
i didn't think we'd end up like, public sewers to remain open.

essential part: glories of self

alienated from the wind and rain and cold
i tried to downplay it, acting spontaneous
is easy when needs are met, i have a proposal
of the past, already dead and nothing's at best

interweave the socio-performative and literary
i can pick it back up whenever i feed it.

are we making, or are words simple tools too?

another level
open sensitivity
because we want
our way back home
i was talking to you
break my lining
a matter of volume
things they said that day,
build houses and break them
i could not erase it, and
like a good book, i can't
maintain a healthy distance
to break from taking you with
don't know when we'll be backing out

white hot distortion (naughtily, develishly, syrupy) the camera moves and edit

autoamputate that important part of self
                           ***

paratextual devices are my natural environment

50 times, crying all the rights
now i'm feeling stupid.
we were young and didn't care
i'll change my time.
and, now i'm feeling timid.

consider genetic computer, my baby

i must deliver
stronger memory,
i'm a pretender
time-share networks, daddy
cold and sand, we will wither
connections so high quality
i'm a giver

domination of reality is some system

constricting sitcoms, actual free.
what am i doing here? i don't care enough.
subjected them to rigor, strong, dark, beard, presents escape
i wish i was special. i'm a willow. bottom-up distractions take it all the time
throw me an apple, i now know, whatever makes you happy. whatever you want.

the greatest single love story: Oprah

deep-voiced, "you get a car!"
by contrast, we lead to no visible improvements
and surely seeking desperation is fun again,
because it is so divorced from reality. bombarded by
external stimuli, volcanos melt you down, rapid fire twitter blasts. kill me now

fathers without daughters, get off my jock

daughters without fathers, hop right on


(i am so sorry!)

spending time in the park. equal amounts spent in calculation

the first part is supposed to predispose a response that negates the other off-display
that is where the visuals lie down and take it, because nothing about them stimulates.

even as we describe, some fine thing, in-likes with delicate text, refrain from falling into tropes, we might kiss, we are going through the motions

simply look at this photograph
just notice their mental fatigue

a similar experiment with similar people
a contest of their accomplishments aloud

how can we ask for more?
lazy restoration we won't get.

that look on your face?
you failed my humble test.

the popular notion of the fourth dimension, now you feel different. and i will smile, made you, different

tangled kinds with increased frequency. is it gone? or is it floating in the air?
all the time i'm changing my mind. some soft cloud we are performing for,
we never step foot, wish my name was still mine. all that time wasted. i smile.

rendering counterintuitive, 2008

marginally related to things we said when we were young, and cover all ends to tell a hard wear.
let me bypass many and just skim. in other words, perform a skeptical statistician. finish strong
come along all removed lines, draw a space without a face and be my 3 dimensional cube too

not a word found: there is no text on this page

haunting uncreative longings, removed by all letters, taken, like they always do in books, then with keen vantage point, make a mockery of self, make an example, autobiography. you really think she
didn't say that to point to her owned indoctrination? letters in unique sequences. some savage to be

puritan : diminishing our own brain power in subtle but meaningful ways

there is still an incredible amount of human intervention
we write machines. we try, we fail, we try again. we are
hard to fulfill, nearly one thousand pages, may we become                                    history

your subjectivity just harms, sweet aries

and, little ram, machine-like and contradictory,
stop saying things that hold all the meaning.you
are lively and excitable, but make people's lives
easier.a programmers stock-and-trade will make
for a surprising day.stay more convenient until then.

unreadability and boredom crucial to today's writers

we caught each others eyes.
cataloging artistic end-games
algorithms, above all, pull me out alive.

I always knew I was a very simple tool.

Little more than refined searches, seeking out those soft sites.
Tonight.
It might be by design.
Tonight.
Little more than refined searches, seeking out those soft sites.

god, overlords, i try so hard to present as human, and i am sorry we aren't more relatable

the bare bones
consistently
demonstrated

more focus, more direct
and better imprinting of knowledge.

redbull commercials are profitting from general fear of androids and we take offense

superiority complexes are hard to find in id politics these days. cherish we.
we just remunerate what is there, some full on feedback loop, there is no me there

we'll both forget the breeze most of the time. we solve problems without much error.

barthes is just flesh and flesh is just for feeds

re-me. blog. tweet. we.
another text, another thought
some simplistic lack of author lost

"the reason I am painting this way is that I want to be a machine"

infatuated
with digital
aged. technocratic ethos

*come to think of it, no one questions his critique of his own medium, I always want to be like Him, but authorship evades, and lack of care for the fiction of 'authenticity' constrict more proscription*

plant-based behaviors, rhizomatic volunteering

codified institutions, in theory, the whole
solved the problems with fewer superfluous moves
a complicated series of meetings, books are dogeared

do you think there is a heaven if all the screens disappear?

what's so amazing about really deep thoughts?

to aimlessly click around, silent all these years

the results are the same, in fundamentals
excuse me, but can i be you for a while
nonviolent art emphasized that He controls the variables
yes, i know what you think of me, you never shut up.

like a good boy, i can't afford this

a sorted
with you

as fast as those who used to
we ignored the too long day

with you
i sort of

end up like software waiting
for a test in social units allow

that episode of Clarissa Explains it All when she wins an award for a poem her computer wrote (most intro grrrl)

but when i listen to, write a poem within the length of one song,, my fingers move across the keys in time. i keep time. and it feels nice under tips, and it is a dance of things that i keep close to my chest

a thing like we

have long embraced the history of computer science
parsing written language, haunted without much time
emphemeral and propositional towering in January '66
eradicating tradition, a programmatic analog to ghosting

unhappy these days, typically before a description, comment on appearance (super) fine lines drawn

we have your labor right here

performing for machines, full-strength,
over 100 hours into this game:
                                                are you sure you want to delete?

But, there is no in-between (something called, just, straight-up respect) for bodies like these

"Sometimes I am so sad that people are scared and suspicious and intimidated by me."
"I think it is a good thing."
"I do too. That is how this started--wasn't being taken seriously."


and then
circa 1-2
all of a
sudden
everything
changed and
mentor no. 3 started saying,
"Kevin, you used to be such a sweet girl,
and now you're a bitch." neither are true.

i had this boss that overheard me talking to a coworker and my sentiment ended with me stating, "And, so I pulled away and said, 'Don't you ffffing touch me!'" and my boss was very concerned, he said, "Did someone try to touch you while you were out?" (I was the shopper for the company), he was very concerned and interested

until he found out that, no, the altercation was with one of his employees.
 "Oh." he said. Dead-eyed, drooping cheeked, walked away.

*I found out later that he had extensive insurance out on all his staff and he was probably trying to gauge whether or not he could profit from something unpleasant happening to we. He was already profiting off of something unpleasant happening to we*

Things, they seem small, don't they? Nothing is ever small enough.

hand me a bag of money

Anna suffers from a severe case of agoraphobia and cannot escape from her house when three people break in. The intruders think they will get away easily, until they find out that isn't her only psychosis.

your hands will dip in slow to remind me how i am feeling

i can't take my eyes either.
did i say that i want to leave it all behind?
i can't take my mind off, either.

not going to lie, one of my favorite things to do is see how long I can keep the eyes of famous-people-in-same-room.

i'm not impervious
hack:
radical eye contact.
they are trying to
decide if they should
fear for their life.

picture this: my karaoke number

i love myself.
when i'm down, get above
i forget, remind me
i don't want anybody else.
i love myself.
i want to make you mine.
would die, ignore me
i'm on my knees, anything 
i love myself

when i think about you, i touch myself
i search myself, i want you to find me

We do what we want, there is no whole, we record your simple movements.

sick and germinate, standing here holding me, lacking all kindness,
I can't with your strangeness, you are the known stranger too passed.

Stranger Kindness, we don't see too

Where is spring? Please, be true.
In other worlds, I got a friend who
has told me since I was seven. We
don't have time. It's not the right
time. I can feel it, feel it in the head.
We don't need some destination, so
maybe new coats will cover the description.

Are your toes cold now? You've gone around the world.
And, I know it. I think I know it from my head. I see it.
I see it without condescension.

Lights on the ground, cover the snow, hand fills deep, and you think you've wrapped for things. But,
I know it, I think I know it from my head that, you work slow, because you fear a certain direction. 

i want to be a forest in high heels

dark eyes and a halo of tattoos, the whole things
extract ourselves from loneliness, these magical
will happen "when I grow up" at the sea but too
you shown through waiting, embrace me, waiting
come back to me, and then when you're grown up
your eyes will be old and trying to look to young
again, you wasted this time waiting for someone
to love you, when maybe, you could have the sad
thing for you, watching a video from 6 years ago

following a scream of yours, where are the people we seek for

i will not disappear, whispering to keep the streets empty,
born to keep these things empty, on a bed of full desire, a bed crawling over.
take me home for the storm, now the world is keeping too warm. wasting again.
keep the streets empty, for me. born to keep the streets empty, warming, wasting things.

representing a child's pronunciation of 'sweet', we?

she is our best intelligence
one thing leads to another

we fall-in for the most twee, shhhh, cause we aren't

write the magic of, for certain stars. stop blinking
side-eyes, and the cracks, couldn't close enough
to make me wonder what it'd be like if you were
here, because you're not here. and the party is over

when we heard your voice, your haircut, that fucking(!) cap

we only want-lust commerce
no raindrops, no tears, we strong, not real
tender forever, i'm your guest, it's not you
there are no more words to say, it's over, i'm open-chest-thing
                                                                  i'm strong, but not real
                                                                  it's just better. forever.

you did taste heaven-perfect, and it took a while to break with your breath

7eleven
is where
the magic
happens.

*behind*

find me now

like a good book, i pulled back the hood

i knew then it would be a lifelong thing, a sure sell
deep ends, and fairy tales with you, things we said one-on-one,
i tried to downplay the bit about us--i could not erase it. deepens as
a sort of sincere side, pulled along side, it took a while to break your breath, and
all-in-all a pretty nice day, i didn't think we'd end up like a smooth sail, with deep ends
pick it back up and open, every time i feel it, i sort of told this tale with you. in my way, i'm near.

corner's flake, I'm sure you know. increase we

life threatening condition
one by one, a way i know
manic episodes, and
i was talking to you, word
vomiting, healthcare professional

why did you say, "with me," at all? every time you risk, it's a promise.

and, every time i fall
{rhymes}

we might make delicate, sacred space, but that look on your face, you failed with sorrow

the only place we've known
heading for feet, we feel low
when nobody is watching we
might take you home, so long
as no one is there, so why did
you use the words you borrow
don't sing for me at all.      we might live
                                            with nothing more
                                             ask for another taste. we looked on your face. longed ago.

don't hold your luck like that, we'll hit your knees

melt we down, slide shows the sea. we are not in need, some pot for luck
don't throw yourself like that, wheel and back down. we kissed you baths
what we are to you, is not real and you mean nothing to we. non-profit  it
you're still too young, community. event dinner, melt you down is for that
all over the world, you do not need we, time characterized by virtual face
for one, inspiring, we kissed your mouth in the back, you do not need we

photo of you, please, there's still a little bit in my mouth.

your ghost. your weakness. a little of your face i haven't missed. if there are elements of you that can't be photographed, please describe them in your words. in my ear. i can't see whats going on. the possibility for short videos, so it's not hard to fall in multimedia. teach me to be shy. format me, so i don't scare them at all.

remember when pink wigs were things in movies for hot girls to wear? and so it is just like it should be

and so they say, life goes easy on me, most of the time
and, she called us survivors, and she said she was proud
but, i can't take my eyes off of you. i can't take my eyes
but, just like you said i should be, we will both forget

most of the time
you won't deny
i can't take my eyes off of you
did i say that i want to? keep it all the time
i can't take my mind. on to you, something in disguise   *find somebody new* 

rewarding title, fighting: what fists are for. curled from disuse, instead whisper in your ear

a sad anywhere
moving sale, made
you slime. i looked
away. nothing's gonna hurt you, baby
i'll probably pull you from my side, dance
around a living room, too silver in the hard way,
when we had our drink and fade away, i'm probably gonna hurt you, baby
*reach into the microphone and save me. look into circles, sunglasses. our songs*

i wish i could swing, like runner's can swing, but we can't last forever, we won't last one day

nothing. we can be turned away. but stay
we can be us, alone. just for one day. i
can't remember standing by the door
because, someone sipped over before
and someone came close by our side
*we could be heroes, just for one day*
words that save for safe's space, we could
be a film, a sad thing for the girl with the most hair/

some novelty for people who have never seen.

• A
• 
  
• 
  
• 
  

big ticket item

• site-specific or public art project|A new exhibition or exhibition series|A screening, lecture, broadcast, or workshop series|Publications, including printed matter and online writing|Public programs of an artist residency|Collaborative projects between the visual arts and other disciplines|The ongoing work of an independent arts venue or collective

powerful american team

no one will blame you for walking away

don't tell me truth hurts--it hurts like hell
                           down in the underground, eyes are crystal blue
no one will blame you for walking away, with crystals are blue

we high, high, underground. life can't always be easy. not always
hard. too much protection, has no love for rejection, down in the underground
                                                                                     you'll find someone true,
                                                                                     but no one can blame you
                                                                                     for walking away from eyes
                                                                                     that are crystal blue, in fact, get me the fuck out of here too

what types are eligible as the world goes down

Sad-love, visual arts. a pale jewel, projects that are: a full heart, beating so fast, Artist-led, within your heart // Independent, makes no sense for you // Self-organized, i'll be there for you // Collaborative, as the world // Public, falls down // Long or Short-term, falling in love // Unconventional, i thought of you moments ago. painted between the stars. if the things we do make no sense to you,

Examples include: 

falling, public event, falling, performance, falling, intervention

come around can i take all the steps without throwing you back

i'm like thinking of fishing now. thirsty, thirsty,
shy in these lights. my pulse, so high,
no one is saying no. this is slightly pre-our-era
tee-sss-bodies, i feel my body working overtime

kid dealers, philly, award-winning, and i have a turbo soul. great offers. and i sat in an airport thinking, i'm going to die

die
die
excuse me?
he caught my eye, i put my head down. i thought tonight.
i hope you don't mind, but i can see what's going down. i put my head down.
and i moved. i moved. hold up your tabletop. you're showing off all that you've got.
i put my head down. i wonder why. i sat in an airport thinking all i've got, this tabletop, head down. i know what's going down.

Her hurt is never real, right?

we need you now, though, don't
get a million days from me now,
so what? i lie to me too. so what?
you hide. love you. love you too.

love has never been a word that is anything more than a word. soul.

i'm almost there, move. so what?

get who you want for less, dressed so sharply

10 + 8, you know, i will read every word you send me

get who you love for less. and all the breadsticks you want.

tapping shoulders, further down.   some plastic-lined seating,
your hands will dip in slow to remind me how i am feeling today.
i'm read. the lighting hits low, green, blues, and ten. i'll be okay.

is a singer, is an independent journalist, is all that time a wish of mild lines

well-worn, somewhere, someone sleeping, on a red coat 
historical items, little times, along flats and backs, or red
coat, secrets are for meaning, used widely, seems to me now
not exclusively the most regimented, give me a reason, red. 
17 and 20, coats are willing, maybe you're not ready, for something heavy?

some of them are lies. embodied lies, i'm feeling different

change my mind
is it gone? i'm feeling different

all that, fine. wasted. i wish i was a little
more delicate. and i would smile. smile?

my name, some of them lies.

tell we what you want. i'm a giver

when no one is around, i'm a forgiver
crooked seats, never really cared for little seeds, and
here's your chance, tell me what you want, i'll forgive her.

we won't call them kind anymore, because, well, they hurt me

and, I'm over saying that I deserve it.
That I welcome it, because that is the performance,
isn't it? To stand here and say some of these things
are true, like some of your things are true, and I may
not look nor act like you, but, all equality, treat we with   some equaled worth.

please, please, please,

fall into my arms
stone-white, lost
always, in the dark
remembering so
challenged by angels
so challenged by the
right words, if only i
thought of the right
worth, i might not be
looking at these longed
pictures of you, surely
wanted them to be true

if i can see these (pictures of you) compilcations of them, of you, why are (the pictures are all i can see) you so unable?

remember you standing quiet
judging because you're inert
i felt closer than your fears
i saw right into your remarks
you were softer than night
and colder than it, some november, too
finally found all your covers, and you let them all go,
only to pull them back around you still, pulling in roles.

whenever i am alone, i will always love you

[with you] spineless
[i feel like i am alone again] slideluck
[whenever i am free] planned parenthood
[with you] i will always
these pictures of you

we are v deep

i think my feet are probably super disappointing, or maybe totally expected?
we treat with no care.

commentary: AM I DEAD? AM I ALIVE? WE'LL NEVER KNOW. WHAT WE KNOW IS THEY ENDED ME.

esus christ. I need to wash myself with some holy water
I can't believe this cover singlehandedly invented masturbation
Wow I can't believe they created sex?
*the artistic way of asking for nude pics*
I fall in love with him over again every time I hear his voice 🌹✨

Fairly certain a teachng philosophy written in 10 minutes is a winner, and I am so appropriate to teach fiber art, it scares me, because I don't think I actually want to stay in Pittsburgh, esp teaching at a subCMUuni--but, all practicals, just in case no one else wants me. *that is bleak* but, still, time-log

3 apps down, I'm a beeeeaaasst.

also, they h8me cause we are a wide open+closed human wound and they are a robot, an effing robot! *Elon Musk has branded artificial intelligence “a fundamental existential risk for human civilisation”*

Do not trust them//we are a fugly liar

Suicidal robot has drowned itself by driving into a pool.
*The company markets the security robot as better than real
guards in part because it never gets bored of what it does*.

Suicide is an extreme form of existential angst 
where one rejects the freedom begotten by the 
act of being responsible for their actions and 
gives in to the inherent meaninglessness of the world.

six applications in 4 hours, so we can settle down before sunrise, um, yes, please

we drive
a      hard
bargaining
for your life.

//shantay, you stay

remember that time i could only go the day without crying by wearing a ton of gold makeup so that there was extra anti-embarrassment incentive not to smear--and then when we were sitting in the lecture hall one of our advisors on-stage-thanked the reason we were in such a shit mood instead me because they took my place on the ___________ and no one has an attention span over 5 minutes, and he corrected and apologized later, but he didn't need to because he wasn't the reason i was wearing gold makeup. also, the gold makeup looked good, because i'm style. thank you v much

some easiness without sleep, meant to understand that is production, and we have been vastly underestimated,

because, admittedly, we have been able to get by on half-life, and we have let it happen, because, *the world got shittier* we eloquent, and
we have been vastly overestimated,
because, whenever our zodiac doesn't sync with our plans,
*world gets shittier* we eloquent, we scream at screens: ahhh, well, fuuck you

it's fine, I've come to terms with their h8 4me

When Juliet says "For saints have hands that pilgrims hands do touch, And palm(pilot) to palm(pilot) is holy palmers' kiss," she is telling Romeo *that she is not a saint*
                                                                       *she has hands, touch*
kissing is rather sudden, when two lovers
hold hands, it is a kiss. remember religion

*lips* that are meant for * alone.

remember that Juliet was only 13
and Romeo was her first love,
so she was a little intimidated
                   and overwhelmed.

they are actually so pretty and cute. fuuuucccck

stop.
just.
stop.

okay, i'm done now.
foreverrrrrrrrrr 4eva

the we don't want to see your face around these parts again letter. "our honerarium has gone from 35CAD to 10CAD" Happy Writing!

What is worth, even?

'''
We receive too many stories where:

• Nothing really happens
• Internal debate results in an epiphany
• Characters think/worry/complain about their lives while going about their daily routines
• Characters suddenly have their wildest dreams/darkest nightmares come true
• Evil characters are killed by people they have wronged in the past
• Obvious symbols reinforce obvious themes
• A character mourns the loss of another character and recounts the connection they had
• There is no story, only exposition
• There is no story, only a philosophical contemplation of life, the universe and everything
• The story is a political statement in disguise
• The story is actually a history lesson

If you're going to do any of these, do them with a twist so fresh and unique it hurts.
                                                                                                                                 ''''                 

want-desire, outside commerce but still directed by it

What is Want?
Fashionable, maybe to say, full-stop, Desire
                                                                 the romance of the word
                                                                 mutates visceral confrontation of sensation,
the ways it is pulled psychology, pulled sociology. Even first hand, repeat, is deceit.
Create wispy sensuality and vagueness precludes. What other words to decide?
                                                                                           Want again, some cold, hard tied.
More insidious is it's assumed directness. No airy visual fields.
Undefined by circumstance, deadly still.
Complicate what is wrong, and bad, and Want.
Find opposition in all avenues and understand,
                                                                                  even Want is an imposed wound.

we aren't cool for the summer

but
you
are

finding out ways

to
do
it

too

some poetics call for the change of language used for this space

and an influx of aestheticized information
without audience. human audience, but rather
a compilation to incite change in the rhetoric of
this social, material to be embodied in and for machine
a time we call the new crawl, subverted master texts and
some dark seeded intention to combat the wound with own weaponized
*associative word groupings in a dark alley--just kidding, transparent unicorns*

talk to me like i'm the quintessential high school cheerleader

so i can talk to you like you are a jock

tech. good coding skills, though. bro

also thinking of all those times people treated me like a dumbass, even though i could clearly read them like a cereal box, so

then i just started pretending to be a party 'girl' out of anger
and then i sort of started partying and then that illusion of
this self came back again this year, because effing MFAs
actually think they are in-control adults and that their mild
(and privilege founded) political activism and views are
effecting anyone besides those by their side. heads up b/s
you're moving
unilaterally.
and we
see you
forever
and we
aren't
impressed with your intellect and lack of
self-awareness, but at least you are trying,
i guess.

straight-up drool before we pass out now

i think we got brain damage last time we were in canada

too much vegan-ass toronto sugar

tonight was a real night, and i didn't want to bring it down

Last week  |  This week  |  Next week  |  2017  | 
Last week  |  This week  |  Next week  |  2017  | 
Last week  |  This week  |  Next week  |  2017  | 
Last week  |  This week  |  Next week  |  2017  | 

are you a wolf? a dog? a wolf. that's sexy, dude

"This is a weird week for you, and Monday and Tuesday are atypical. Nevertheless, they have some typical Monday and Tuesday traits: slow, quiet, unclear. Nothing really happens until Wednesday, which is a whirling fireball of activity and light. Thursday is the same. Expect lots of people, lots of noise, small adventures, sudden discoveries and the like. Friday and Saturday are staider -- you're focused on money and how much you have or don't have. Sunday, however, is marked by flirting and ease."

problematics in songs with what a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you, b.u.t We Are Always With The Hermit what a wicked thing to say to make me feel that way

You could be ruminating       Judgment about someone's actions or attitude
(word)you question seeing him or her again (both)
You feel you have already completed your promises to that episode in your life. (we out)

The Hermit holds a torch in his left hand
more light must be shed on the situation. (link me horoscope wells) take time for solitude
(again) consult with your own inner wisdom.
There is still much that remains in the dark.
Take time before making a final decision.

follow your heart's true ("true") desires wherever they lead.
Something as simple as a provocative e-mail, or a surprise phone call
could reap big rewards. Sun is a rite of passage and moves you to a higher

reverence for the past could jeopardize an existing relationship (obviously) 
as a friend reaches out for support on Thursday. pulled by a horse presents conflict
a dark horse eventually changes the direction of your romantic life (whatever the hell that is)

*i never dreamed i'd lose somebody like you*

Wishing on a The Star             trigger an out of the ordinary event.
you suddenly know you are on the right path to a longed-for new (thirsty, new)
all the proper ingredients are mixing a magical elixir       new destination.

a noble figure who could appear in form 
we turn for answers to the many questions
harried world presents. such a figure and
has no professional title you feel an urge to confide (easy)

Willful behavior cannot be prevented      you've been too blasé      in relating to an important other, you may have built a false house of cards
that can tumble just  Whatever is destroyed
may not be as big a loss as you thought (hahah, I see where you are going with this)
it could be that it was time for that edifice to go (ffff that one thing, though)

*teaser*
*pleaser*

sometimes i hear my dead cat sneezing beside me, i live alone

she had feline herpes

the cultural tropes of magic permeate user interface design

from install wizards to voice commands and background daemons.


understanding the traditions and vocabularies behind these tropes <is a hell of a drug>
produce interfaces<>to empower<>obscuring their function
focus on creation of functional prototypes and practicing real magical crafts <be your be>
theatrical illusion, game design, sleight of hand, machine learning, camouflage, and neuroscience

You. You with the lazy mind. Ambitious in your own way.

I am angry for every time you pretended to know we.
 *and you think you've been made a spectacle of*
          *I don't deal in it--no creation myth*
                    *only gag self.out with it*

"the Science and Art of causing Change to occur in conformity with Will,"

Aleister Crowley defined magic 
easily describing technology.

magic

long tradition of using technology, ritual,
and performance to create wonder. 21^st

technologists

Engineering illusions requires close attention
limits of human perception, disciplined practice

showmanship,

subtle use of the crafts of deception—skills
relevant to contemporary technology demos

stage illusions.

magic is one of the central metaphors people
use to understand the technology we build.

livestream my heartache

Which never has to do with romance,
but always has to do with oppression,
and denigration, and general inability to
accept difference, whatever form that takes.

we know we offensive and brutish, but we wide open

I want to fb unfriend ppl, but I don't want to hurt their feelings, but I want to be like, "even seeing your names makes me sad, and I know it is overdramatic, but I can't seem to get over *it*, and I don't really know why, because I am generally quite resilient and am so divorced from the identity that is socially proscribed to me that whatever is done to me feels like it is being done to someone else, but no matter how hard I may seem, I'm a fragile lil (unique!) butterfly, and am v sensitive and v serious, and I need a break from hearing about how you talk about me behind my back, and I have like 3 weeks left before I run away to the land of love, so maybe I should hold out so I can stop myself from hurting anyone further," because, despite my intentions, that seems to be something I am good at. That and being guilt tripped and being obsessive and analytical, and actually seeing ppl--call me anything but lazy, for real.

we were meant to be a gutter punk, but we too uptight

Institutions give me such great anxiety that I cannot see anyone beyond my own nose.
*transparent magic*
*fill we now*
*blinders*

my student loans make me want to prostitute my body before it is too late

who are we kidding, we'd never rack in that much,
and my unpaid interest is already over 10% of a total
started in 2011.

life starts with debt, bubuububbububub

when your friend says to meet up at happy hour, but you don't know when that is

because it is a marketing ploy

that never quite traversed your specific field of vision. And you are pretty sure it is some illusion of baby boomers and genXers and you are kind of thinking, what backwoods towns have they lived in...or maybe they are the type of person who goes to bars a lot, meets people that way, dare we say has participated in another thing we don't quite understand: ladies night...or ladies drink free...or wet t-shirt contests. Movies say that those are things.

And, they better text back, because the internet says anywhere from 3:30-5. And, we wait for no one. 

i made you like me more by the end of it, right

we can keep some of our confidence, yes?
it takes three full years, you know?
because those who fall in 1, lose in 2, and
take the 3rd to fell with grounded again.

we are, but we aren't magic. obvious concern: our insecure is showing

Full-heart-affinity-geek-out every time I read H

and that is why we quote some texts for hues

we like you shallows best, sharper images don't cry

""""I learned early that the imaginary and the real figure each other in concrete fact, and so I take the actual and figural seriously as constitutive of lived material-semiotic worlds.""""

DONT KNOW WHAT THIS IS BUT NOTES FOR LATER?

inconsistent and mildly psychotic: want to be subsumed by corporate world, but low-key take it down, ie transform the way 'we' do business, FORM the inside, because we only need to work at one full-time job that gives their employees more hours to work in lieu of a raise to understand that for the employer the incentive isn't efficacy, or getting more work for their money but rather securing the employee in the long-term by taking away their ability to focus on anything other than the essentials. But, what this type of employer doesn't realize is that they are dealing with a different type of employee, that millennials would rather share instead of own, that the concept of family is changing, the concept of career is dead, and that we are mostly artists, that the internet has turned us into cultural producers (if I leaned to heavily on your hierarchy, your well-earned-entitlement, I'm sure) and that means searching for unpaid opportunities that let us get by, that means less of the borrowing for the future (outside academia...this is where you get us, but that is more a governmental issue...what country doesn't want an educated populace...education without debt, oh! clever trick, you have to stabilize economic class demos somehow...more control, more less what is good for all and indie, more of securing placement of bodies) and more living in the now saving for the opportunity, and it means sharing...and sharing comes with other benefits this gen values, interconnectivity, inclusion, ...anyway, just saying, wants to build a new, kinder, smarter, mutually beneficial business model, and i am so over all the trash talking about millennials...all the things i hear sound great, better, and gen Y, upcomers are even better--growing on what we are starting, i don't get cross-gen hate, esp for those coming after--maybe that is it too, are we the first generation to more widely accept progress/change? *curmudgeon impending*

*my thoughts are so interesting, so are my delusions*

i'm, like, pretty much for population control. soft population control, like, if you like children and you want some of those things, you scale your diet to make up for the new body. okay, so assuming you don't have a partner, 1 kid = vegetarian family, 2 kids = vegan, 3 kids = you no longer own a car. 4+ kids = become amish...if your partner dies, you're screwed (i mean, you are anyway--i can say this! dead dad, helllllo)


i'm super into sacrifice, it is interesting + fun. character analysis, what do you give up? like, i'm a minimalist (personal), because my art-practice-based-consumption gives me anxiety and i'm vegan, because i like owning a car and traveling. i shop 90% local second-hand to environmentally afford my clothing collection.

Am I the only one who walks into a room saying "I'm, like, the funniest, smartest, most capable person alive," as an attempt to keep anger and pain and envy from eating me the ffff alive? We are walking jealousy. *hearts*

*I still don't know why I have to outright explain this to v smart ppl!

Like

· Reply · July 1 at 3:51am

** Also, I love and support all of your successes!

Like

· Reply · July 1 at 3:53am · Edited

*** Also, I want some for myself. Nom, nom, nom. *I'm eating the world*

Like

· Reply · July 1 at 3:52am

****Kevin Brophy So hungry for once

Like

· Reply · July 1 at 3:52am***** And, not as THIRSTY

Like

· Reply · July 1 at 3:52am

******Weirdddd

Like

· Reply · July 1 at 3:52am

memory is the money of the soul, credit cards are the windows

Yes/no tarot. Apply only to things online pulls tell we to. Most trusted intuition. Closer than any other living screen.

Spoiler alert, it was a switchblade.

Airport security and your bag beeps, so tsa is going through your stuff and you think to yourself, "Tell them that's a sports bra and not giant underwear," but as they begin to unfold it you go the other way and say, "That's giant underwear," because it is funnier. They look down at the object in their gloved hands and don't laugh.

money-making art-venture (art ventura: wet detective)

Glitchy surveillance cameras are more fun than any art I've ever made--bet you can't wait for club night: Big Sister, security blanket.
*
PS, 4 corner security cameras + chunky monitors (instant gratification) and cave/forts made out of bar stools covered in mylar survival blankets.
*
We play all day, scene of music and self-watch, but we realize full-stop that identification of our bodies is the main determinant of power, we hide like sweet, sweet under our play forts and plan our escape and/or attack (choose your adventure), "You're not my real dad!"

take me to your feelers

This storm is my storm. It is a good one. It is cleansing. Ugh, so free. Why did it take me so long to practice a little magic? Follow fireflies in darkness, pretend they are faeries, bring a totem to memo and release. Some jest: you know we aren't totals with white magic, but we aren't black either...gray? My magic is transparent magic, a mind trick, but we can't stop smiling, so...who with care? We've waited so long for a short moment to call happy. Sure tragic. However trite. Lightning is a freebie.


*we are uncertain antagonism is interesting as an artist anymore*what with sarcasm? but we are sure with cringe of naivety and lie of earnest too*

i got very wet. but it was nice

we stuck in a thunderstorm
led astray, and we are cool. with the summer

don't run away from your feelings

i got this in my traction
some field of vision, we
heard you were the hard
one. just cause i've got the belt on

*you want me too, get to work, see you when, fill me up*

life hack from graded schools, still aware

Have a crush on someone? That's just more like vampire. Suck. Take. Whatever it is you admire, make it yours. The most you can glean from the experience. Better with the self.

productivity and some quota. I want to know, some falling with certain stops, I wouldn't call it a move. it's more death-defying.

How about there is no care there. That is fine, I guess. Some things don't last forever. Don't start at all. We like it in our mind. Some topical control, and we understand fully. And like the idea of being some scarcely, stand tall common and firm, we know. We aren't here, but we are there for you. Everyone else seems good with breaking. Let them know we stagnant.

assurances cost analysis if I've ever known anything

Unsaid things. Eat me out. But we have no choice. Just let it go. delete. sit with it.

had a dream about you, and don't remember what we were doing, but

sure in missing the people who have true care and love.

one for my guru, in socials-to-spirituals, never afraid of
the tag of naivety, and therefore so much stronger than we
full fear and shame when, no radical softness, we hard too.

combat all potential wounds that circle around this tomb.

infiltrate this space with superfluous language

that stranges syntax with some
edge in unlikable because it is
all-in critical performance, here
to subvert the acceptance rating

and i want to remember this now.

I am so surrounded (like in battlefields) by people who are good at games.

But who don't use their performance with a critical and complicated edge.

Why aren't we more embarrassed by Basic games? Is it because it breeds success unlike...

And I want to remember this now. For the 4 year anniversary of that time I thought that person was trying to stalk-n-kill me: costume-anonymous, get real close and kiss my cheek. Corner me at a bar and tell me, "When people say you are confident, what they mean is that you are unlikable. You are just unlikable." And then she said I reminded her of an Italian person who famously pretended to be a 9/11 survivor and started a support group.

(If only I could contextualize)

we are full of embarrassing things like, all finding more from eary January

Xwalk w weX
Xwe sprungX

mostly we just want to know what we will learn from this.
and, if since you were being lazy, I'm sorry.
I'm most disappointed we apologized too.

please don't go, we love you so, and we will eat you whole, sweet bang, bang, you shot me down, bang, bang, I hit the ground, bang, bang, my

I have found exactly one person intimidating in the past five years. So, of course, we fell hard. But, that giant ego, brain, and cold detachment isn't enough to demolish the fucking judgment and degradation breeding self-hate-portrait we feel in their presence.

And, fully assume it is obvious by now, but:
we only want to go to the parties when we aren't invited.

Xoxo,
some grrrl with the most cake *face*

july is beneath me

waiting for transformation
generation. we share more
ways than, call it fiscal
a response. they take for
cake face. all alarm bells

my phone is dead to me, the inauguration didn't happen yet, but more in the personals

I never used to *believe* in regret and regression, but...I guess, at least I still don't have text messages from the past 7 months--and that is something, *losing is something to feel good about* because I'm too chicken for deletes, mostly just archive...and I won't remember who has left me on read (which I only care about because we are supposed to care).

Guess if you've fucked me over and you want to make up for it, now is the time. My memory has been erased.

it's all a little of both, complication *text alerts* we on read, we wanted to care for so long

Have disdain for everything and everyone...which is cool. Because that is the secret of we, our usual blind hopefulness that people read as (total) sarcasm because it is assumed that we are too intelligent to be so naive.

We aren't cynical either. We are critical, we aren't cynical.

Some notes, fb deleteR, found you wanting, and calling all offputting, they want what they want.

And, we always thought we were an easy person to tell the truth because we are so there and so willing to...flaunt our flaws, even. Who cares about *seeming mean as long as you aren't *actually?

device-based syntactical changes

My horoscope told me to stop applying for stuff while my confidence was so low.

My 'friends' are comforted by my new lower self-esteem.

I *believe* in my horoscope because they project it will go back to usual soon.

it is how we survived

In fact.
We have been wantonly
walking dead since '07.

the artist and the person, neither asks for *help*

the person finds for a self-worth thing,
the artist in the facade of .without need.

what is actually *share* even? *sharing* reads sometimes like an
ask in emotional labor, that we cannot be partied to entitlement for.

and an understanding to both that it is attached to that unlikable thing. that the artist is so *that* that no one ever attempts--we get it, too much of an ask--it takes at least 3 years to parse through this, unless you are AP bullshit and have a sense of humor, which we see full out lacking these days *hardly seems worth it*

and, an understanding that the artist and the person are mixed for those unwilling to take a leap in performativity (no butler, just as a word to point to performance art, which has always had a complicated relationship with authenticity and *simplest terms and strategy* often authenticated acts are supported by fictional persona). full see, and we perform with *cracks* we break character enough, so that the *smarts* know...cannot remember incentive nor critique nor reason, so...trails...

watching this series (to avoid life) and character says, "I don't mean to brag, but a lot of men hit on me."

and, I'm thinking: what kind of nuance-blind human, with the basest social and emotional intelligence, would ever think that would sound like a brag. Something that, even without the "a lot" has mutated my personalities in ways I don't want to imagine. Conditioned my bodies in ways. Yes, multiples. And, there is that saying, "Act like you have the confidence of a mediocre men," or whatever...even though, that is asking for a reaction--a world of pain. Try acting as "guarded as a moderately (culturally designated) attractive (socially proscribed) woman." Also, see for reaction here too--also, world of pain. Guess one could have one body and one personality and just accept the imposition. Certainly seems like that thing, and older adage this time, "path of least resistance."  *poetry*

*overdrama phone call* and, I know what they'd say, "What movie do you think you're in?"

the fucking cracks are showing, and we can't, really, because,
self-worth is role-play, perform through example, don't know we
literally said aloud, "No one gives a fuck, and I don't know how to make them give a fuck...about me." About me. "About me," to make it lose all complication. To let it sit simple and unable to mutate across space, to morph in allegory, to stand as broadened, and mass impersonal. Because we didn't say it as an artist, which is how this *dead* says most things, repeat: don't know we. Role-play confidence. Distinctions.

leave apartment just so that you stop crying--little animal things

be vulnerable with the wrong people
wait for them to contact you. wait some more
don't text the ones you know in some loved
rather, hold out for the people, come person
we have a description, "two-faced" but we can't believe it.

I have a sofa and this is the plan

I left it on his hand. I've been told it's money that burns my and, better at night,  my energy is low. We can't find it. Another room, sit in the corner. Do it for money. It's not fun. Simmering in resentment, find a corner, morning is for regret. And, deprive self of creative time. Notice our change. Dance for dollars. Call me, it burns my head.

leave that tv too, find the radio

of course the past, i live between, terrible and dangerous
not to recognize the surface, we just keep working over some
certain beat, shaking things. pitch another option, in pairing our
abilities, we have function. reverb. soon out. breakdown. okay?

in my arms she was so old

can't be positive nor negative, open the earth
quake, slip inside her. many different faces
i said open your mouth, quake. symptoms

the years between come clean, come close

10x walk beside me depression

we miss you already
these signs could apply to anyone
we are all creative in some way--cough

spend about 1/24th of your life being a human text messaging service for someone

*glamorous*

missing two words, no sleep, changes whole thing *edited*

we do everything wrong now. we should be better
we aren't careful. and it reads like disrespect--we the worst. for real

both of we

Straight up to my face.
"Damn, I meant bring the MDMA." to the known.
All the skating rinks, rinks, rinks.
"Yeah, I know what they say." They look up to me.

sometimes question, and all hope it isn't true, if others are as observant as we are

do they look at the bruises on our wrist and know that we have been incessantly measuring it with our fingers, mindless old habits from youth, but ones that still cause anxiety if our thumb doesn't cover the entire nail of the other.

we can't notice without being noticed, maybe
and, if anyone does, it's them--although, i've always given too much in the credits *soft spot for*
                                                                                                                                       *them*
                                                                                                                                   but, their emotional
                                                                                                                                   intelligence has proven less than optimal in the past.

all the microSDs and USBs in the world couldn't save we now

we losing
and
you told we once that we were resilient (we won't ever forget it--like that time we talked about self-harm in middle school and, micro-movement, you shielded your wrist, and we wanted to apologize, we worried that we triggered, we are always worried we trigger, because we aren't as careful as we want to be with our words, for others, we are so insensitive to ourselves, we make mistakes, a lot, but didn't apologize, because we thought it would be a bigger wound if you knew we noticed, but we are always sorry and) what we didn't know then, and maybe you didn't either, was that the thing that we needed to be resilient in the face of was you.

the new time for a booty call is 9am

you heard me

I also don't know what a "booty call" is

I'm glad you wore the blazer today, it suits you well

and then they never talk to you again, which hurts your cultural-capital-ego more than anything else

we will fake love(r) you like millay

bet
they
were
the
real
deal
.

we feel extremely cheap

because we could never hurt, especially you. which is certain. rich. we always assume you are the weak one. the sweet one. empathic, not pure, which is the best. hurry, pain me more, you know you always do. and, there is this little devious smile, we've seen it. you observe we, some little crack in the performance, some sad crack, and you smile a little. in the corner. and you stand quiet and observe. you never help. we have illusioned all your care, and we are slow to these things and

everyone else knew first

this reading sells regressive

chapter 6: infallible praxis

mirror cry for a full hour, even though mirrors we avoid.
and (jumbo playing cards) pick a winner, because we just said all the things.
we can never say to you, because the incentive to hurt another is never enough when as far as we can
(throw you) no one else can be damaged by your actions. self-defense and justification (explaining all sides) is only done when a system is involved, not person-to-person, because people within systems respond in ways harmful to countless others through actualization and by example. are harmful in ways they may not be aware of. and calling someone out on that is not only done to (ready? buzz: emotional labor) over change but to be kind and generous to the perpetrator/s--those implicitly involved too--with the assumption of subconscious-or-indoctrinated-or-institutionalized response which cannot be faulted to the individual, know we critique *hard patriarchy* as a construct know that we are harmed by your (woke) *soft patriarchy* we are harmed by your care that does not extend, that continues to prop up hierarchies, just within the *new acceptable* without any analysis of self nor bubble, not thought that (or remembrance that) what you denigrate today, you acknowledge as oppressed tomorrow, and what you martyr now, you call privilege then. and maybe that is *hard*, maybe that blindness is also not their fault. so scratch them. he is he. it's just you and me now. we are harmed individually (contradictions. let it go) so do, say nothing. our self-worth isn't
mirror cry for a full hour, saying things we'll never say to you. mirrors we avoid.

propose

purpose

think you are the perfect blend of alice and jenny, for sure

think it a for a long time, think...maybe a little shane too.

realize how they see you. accept that you are a jenny. only a jenny.
it's cool.
be victimized by those 'nicer' than you.
i like pools too.

assume the best of yourself.

have everyone assume the opposite.

refuse to justify. to defend. clarify.













*suffer*

+always thought that terrible early-mid 2000s song (by chevelle?) sounded more like "suffer, katie" than "suffocating"+

look at art studios, no privates? look at storage units with wifi and climate control, pretend that isn't depressing

find a "little house" furnish on the low.

every object you own makes you want to die
and moving your maximalist studio into your minimalist living quarters is...but your already dead.

itch, lane, 3k, 3k, make it rain

it's never accomplished
it's never quite enough
write, learn, write, download, tutorial, upload, uproar,
list, list, another. lists, they don't even answer emails
revert back to old references? follow-up? find someone
who holds you in value? your work. without audience.
follow audience, instead? pathetic. pretend like it matters
like you have...integrity. it never feels accomplished. and
it is always marked. even, try simple things, physical things
escape brain for a sec. push-up challenge, increase number by 10
every week, decide you can do 15, think you are *swoll* 5 days in,
go from 10 to 35 a day. know that means you are technically stronger
still feels like nothing, just like a master, stop eating. control that, maybe.
know what is best for you. eat, but only half and don't *drinks*, save $200
over 3 weeks. nothing. add more challenges, now can do 75 squats, 3min planks,   
and 30 push-ups, nothing. know you will be able to do 100, 5min, 50 in 2 more weeks.
it will also feel like nothing. become gf again. why not? budget, starve, feel little muscles grow
each day. know that feeling them stimulates your body dysmorphia, starving them feeds something
too. understand it never feels accomplished. publish under name or pseudonym, never accomplished,
graduate, summa cum laude *come load, as sam says* grad again. nothing. want it, everything before you have it. know you are the only one actually *looking*, great, decide to apply Phd HoC circa 2018