This was 17 years, 19 days ago

went to see the armory show today.

damn you thomas ruff.

can't sleep.

used to have words.

not anymore.


It's funny how vague images are starting to drive me now. A home and bookshelves, iridescent light bulbs and a chair, sofa. A view of the street. A slightly rainy day, cars passing by, the sound of tires curving up and leaving wet asphalt, rolling resistance at work, and in the midst of that a process of growth, books, reading, proceeding. Studying. The simplification of effort to just one, directed inwards, perhaps more purified. A lack of: qualities, rates, hours. just a home with bookshelves (with mostly read books) and haphazardly painted white cabinets. Domesticism or groundedness, some internal base to build off of, bounce ideas away from.


5:54. still can't sleep.