i didn't desaturate anything!
here in this constructed fervor i tremble
but not as a symptom
i and machine, e
not a trick not a system not its own
own edifice
how else to explain how i welcome any ennui
annie
these are much more devious than red herrings i am
much more conspicuous
are they
much more sinister?
there is something beautiful about the way i write
there is something broken about the way i write and these
are separate truths, this i know
thoughts are only -congested- into this brain of mine -projected- onto this webspace of theirs
i am a movie to myself in times of high narcissism
that is something to stomach
(i turn around at every truth)
(i corkscrew down the page)
there was a flower - how many thoughts does it take
what is this difference in probability in the collision of volleyballs, tennis balls, and atoms
and what is the significance of the order in which i considered them
it is a very small sandbox
i am sifting through my own canon
next time i unilaterally
deny, solipsism?
it is your duty to incriminate me
and lynch this reprobate from the past