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