…what is being held,
like being wrapped
around the feeling of arms
around your waist.
Why do you ask?
Because honestly I thought something generative would be kind of nice. I’m trying to be generous in every sentence I put down. Yadda fucking yadda I’m always starting my word collections with some kind of procedure as if anyone cares about my procedures. There’s nothing but barometers around here. And people will love you even when you let them down/there’s something about bad oxygen. I need to get better. Writing things isn’t about sounding like air. It’s about looking like/feeling like/kneeling like earth. I’ll eat a mountain you know! It sure does beat a murmur.
And this is like a path made by bouncing between the centers of large flowers. Bee movie is an A+ movie. There’s something bad about oxygen. I can’t believe Oprah has her own network. I bet Oprah is one of the coolest people you could ever meet.
I know someone who won’t let me explain the difference between privacy and secrecy. Getting notifications about people’s birthdays on Facebook is one of my main frameworks for experiencing time and I’m sort of ashamed of that. It’s bad to commit to forgetting things.
But it has to be fun. If it’s not fun you’ll find every reason not to do it or to do something else/make excuses about whatever. You might feel more ceramic that way. If it isn’t weightless you should run away from it/iterations. Iterating on weight just adds more weight, no matter how many different ways you try to carry it. I had to lose a year of my life to learn that/sometimes I still don’t know.
Always pay attention to the seeds. Try really hard to believe that one day they might outgrow their original design. I honestly/really did. But you can’t make something like that really happen from nothing because ingredients are everything. That last sentence isn’t a strong concept but it’s so nice out loud. I sometimes feel like my left hand writes for sound and rights and my right hand writes for messaging.
I always get told about how not to be literal, but when I’m being literal it’s only because when you stand on thin ice it serves no purpose to think about how cold the water is underneath. It’s still gonna feel like standing on the sun. I snuffed me out on Monday because I really wanted to be special and free but I didn’t have any space. There’s a buffer that comes from doing that to yourself like when the loading wheel spins on the computer. Ultimately, my room always smells like tea tree, quite loud, lost time, and brain farts.