it’s like every person in the world is either bearded, or smoking.
I feel hard. or thoroughly. s’why being mad pomo mofo is so fucking ironic. agency in thought, or reality in feeling—whatever—it’s my construct. I’m not down. but lately, I can’t get past the poetics.
it’s revolting: my poetry is revolting. I drown in poetry.
s u b v e r s i o n s s s s s s . lately, I want to be fascinated.