urgh. i just went on to google maps to see what the yarra looks like, and saw that a few certain places were marked out on the map. Grumpy's Green. My Aeon. Open Studio. My information has been compiled and an algorithm has computed what I would want to see, or what is most relevant to me. I know this is happening, I have known for a long time. It's not unexpected even it's just... very real and gross. I feel yucky. And the place to put this feeling, the only place, must be the internet. After all, it is the birthing ground of this strangeness, and the hunting ground for so many. So much life happens on the internet now that it has amassed this enormous power and weight, it is a writhing force of its own and it is fascinating to see what sort of burgeoning world is becoming due to this. But I like to think of myself on the outskirts. No, I am in it. I am in the fucking middle of it. I need some edge... but to remain informed. And the tightrope wobbles. 

Experiences that I carry, I am sifting slowly. The [time] undulates, and I am picking threads from this multidimensional ball of goldensilver wool. I am slowly and erratically weaving a tapestry and it becomes more and less apparent all the time. But we move, through and in it, we wear the tapestry to work or to sleep and into dreams, where the great Source of Thread rests and tendrilates outwards. Grasping or clasping arms closer where we can stay safe and warm no, it is not until the tapestry begins to wrap you soul-full into warmth and protection that anything but grasping will help you. Un-clasping. Unless it's fingers around those sweet tentacular truths. 

Perhaps I digress, it has been a long time. It will be a long time. It is a long time. 
Perhaps, I must stress, I presently draw lines. Symbol and pixel signs. Meaningless rhymes
where I find less, and more to draw divine shadows and sun shining on mountains I gotta climb

Mmmmmmm will be bedtime soon. Good.

x

oh it's good. 
it's good that i can see his face in photographs with other beautiful people and feel only the slightest pang of sadness that quickly gets overwhelmed by gladness. 
it is good that i can cry and laugh at the same time. 
it's good that even with all the little shadows and confusing moments i still know that beneath your ribcage there is a cord that runs directly to just beneath my ribcage, even after all these years. my oldest friend. 
it is good that these days come up and bubble over like they do. that decisions are made as soon as you wake up because you know that today it is just all a mess and that is okay. 
it is good.
it is good that things ache - it is good to hear that communication and try to know it even if you don't understand most of the time.
it's good to feel time's malleability in each moment. 

it's good to feel other's successes as a boot in the gut but to know that the gutboot is just a reminder of how unique you are, how sensitive you are, and how free you can be from comparison.
it's good to feel creative and free without expectation.

it is always a good time to begin.