The impatience of geriatricism in every breath. Tattooed invisibly, like Japanese characters, on revealed bits of spine. Marshall McLuhan humming a Pepsi theme in a back room. Voice tinny on the turned-on, tuned-in short-wave radio. When did life become a game of hurry-up-and-wait? A ticker tape reader in the same room imitating a man with Parkinson's. The entire financial world losing it's mind with their masks on. Bits of dusty nostalgia dredged out of crammed closets. The smell of lost childhood. Pieced out and sold-- for obscene sums-- in the broad daylight of addicts. Runaway freight-train hyperstratification.
4:49 p.m. - 2020-09-16
Recent entries:
Thanking the Pandemonium - 2020-11-26
Simplicity of Sometimes - 2020-11-25
Bubblebeams - 2020-11-18
Red Blue Green Purple - 2020-11-11
Too Young to Descend - 2020-11-11
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