This was 11 years, 3 months, 18 days ago

when in doubt, start sloppy. just shit it out. I'm constipated, a little.

songs to tide me over:

(so the real question of all of this is sacrifice, maybe. do I let go, give up, close my eyes and smile wryly and let things pass away? maybe what I need is to give up brooklyn and everything that it entails. maybe I need to loosen up and leave part of me behind. isn't that what part of this was about? a loss of the self? icebergs breaking apart in the deep deep night.

or maybe it is best worded as meditation, a clearing of the mind. joseph knecht in the glass bead game. to partition away part of my life as having-been-lost, to let it go, to let it go. ships sinking in the night -> ships entering the suboceanic landscape.)

added later: there are bigger things than this all. time to crash and smile through all of it. remember: you're only doing this because you want to.

okay.

--

step #1: what matters is me, my own comprehension of the visual grammar with which I explain. let's embrace barthes' third meaning and use it as a tool. grasp it and strike out with it. maybe there is something to be said with the obtuse meaning, the punctum, within a diagrammatic context? is there an emotional valence that is precious within a little tiny hermetic infographic system? let's try it out.

rule #2: If i have a fun idea at the last moment, don't be tempted (unless it's especially brilliant, of course). The romanticism attributed to the spark of late-night ingenuity is also another excuse for a lack of commitment and a hesitation to dig deep and to keep on going down, down, down to find subterranean gems down there.