Meeting Notes: An Ornamental Heartbeat

This is sort of called “The Stimulus”? We now have an appendage; we don’t live in it, but, on Christmas Eve these panels advance plans. Abruptly, partially shrouded, the human (various people, obviously) could fit. Would you be interested in being? The children are our future deans — cathedrally people. Conversion experiences, transformative encounters, moved me. But I’m not in charge! I’m kinda confused…who’s “they”? Is the “they” an answer?

It’s nice. It’s pleasant. Affirm the human, same as Zeus: suddenly, poof! Mysteriously, his materials met underground; about half of the units became personal. One thought about us: we’re broken down, a couple of people with a concept, betraying our wares. (Kids today!) I’ve been extracting pieces of humanity where the rules are contested, reflecting myself and figures that step back.

Tim has a hand; one of our graduate students, a dick. Gerald came, shrunk. I’m getting excited; a dog and pony are being implemented, dramatically! There will be plenty of confrontational opportunities: read the sun, listen to the time. The positions of the chairs (on the ground) will express our concerns: the prelude, the other thing, its exact opposite.

We are angry, and we’re an ornamental heartbeat. As a body, make sounds like boats. We’re all depressed — who cares! Do what we do, what we do do: homework. I like the idea of laying out for an hour, being colorfully stupid in a good mood. Leave this room enchanted. It’s come to a pretty pass, let’s just say that. The valuable and good thing is fucking.

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