[response to: Battalion]
not sure how to come to things these days, a certain plaid of changes, my head sort of in the shadows and us writing on an orbit of something like an aesthetic. last time I looked it was still evening, but I’ll just close my eyes for a second. an idiot, clearly, for leaving my notebook in vermont, owls in vermont and white people who say there are too many allergies today, you should lean forward when you sled. women have the lower center of gravity. how to deal with people wanting to look out for me, what I’m trying to say, I’ve always had my own crosshatches, always thought I knew what for direction, never appreciate advice on how to manage hair or vocalization.
right, the moment when people call neurons logic gates and the cells become cartoon nightmare bears, bolder and lighter areas coexisting in a particular zone, charges and deceptions, the curving dark, semi-transparent edges hatching uncertainties in polar space. the bright eyes of letters standing sideways or something knotted loosely in response to summons. a state of blue and white sky, hellish, somewhat, the left side of the spread, legions suffusing the excluded middle.