If Andy Warhol selectively spliced Basquiat, Wittgenstein, and Henry Rollins together with a tinkering technical writer.

When you bought an old edition of a book because the trailer of a Netflix documentary would suggest it bridges another of your pet theories (like Sagan and the Einstellung Effect) because you wanted the original argument… and someone had the gall to sign their name inside the copy you receive.

The things you forget you say

When you realize that in order for the dog to relax you must relax and in order for you to relax the dog must relax.

I wonder if we’re headed more towards picking our default assistants like we do our default browsers (there is a term that never evolved) or even further device f$&kery and platform-adoption-as-big-data-asset

Murphy had so much color in her life.

There is something discomforting about invisible👣 when you’re alone in your journey.

I’ve found myself leaning frequently on negative proofs to gain mindfulness. Take any anxiety inducing, pending outcome. Picture the outcome that worries you. Imagine the worrisome outcome is actually your greatest desire… how hard will it be to make that shit happen. If it would be hard, why worry.

#NostalgicNuggs

High School ☾𐂂

With the thoughts of a militant mind
Hard line, hard line, after hard line

#NostalgicNuggs

Middle School ☾𐂂

Black robe and swill
I believe Anita Hill
The judge’ll rot in hell

#NostalgicNuggs

Middle School ☾𐂂

You had a chance
You did not try
And now it’s time to watch it die

#NostalgicNuggs

College ☾𐂂

#NostalgicNuggs

High School ☾𐂂

I actually came off my bass and sang this fucker at one of my band’s concerts.

#NostalgicNuggs

High School ☾𐂂

Anger is a gift

I suppose I could stick the clubs back in the trunk of the car and get back to trying to knock the cork out the middle of all those f$&king practice balls.

When you’re being pressured to finish moving in so you can move out

Micro worldview realignment process installation failed. Nobody fucking said worldview realignment was fucking easy. If the alignment is too distant, realities are unshareable. On a micro level, you end up sellling a house you love after living there for six months for the second fucking time in your life. On a macro level, you end up enlisting for the second civil war (all enlistees incur four year furlough). You fuckers won’t put aside the dopamine drips long enough to unarse your own heads.

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If we were face to face, here is how it would go:

1. I see you not understanding what I have said (all while blessed with the knowledge that my abstractions are fucking tough to grok)
2. You see me seeing you not understanding a split moment before I ask whether you know what I mean.
3. The tandem trap of piercing pressure plus unplaceable appearance forces your admission.
4. I happily rephrase my abstraction in the form of an open source README, driven by both the lightning in a bottle (your interest in my idea) and the discovery that comes being forced to flesh iht something heretofore raw.

For fucks sake, it isn’t the first thing you hear that woke you up. You were fucking 💤

Nobody has asked me what happened; but, here’s my answer anyway. If you have trouble grokking my response don’t feel deflated. The language I’ve used here in crafting my answer was constrained to the discrete set of paintings I printed before I stopped wanting to paint anymore.

Also, a soft shout out to @odd for single handedly invalidating my boasts of invisibility for some time now. I oughta pencil in an asterisk:

*** 𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 = ∑ 𝐻𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑦 - 𝑜𝑑𝑑

I’m old enough to remember when double digit scores where the norm for both sides in an NBA matchup because men mixed it up in the paint instead of tossing grenades at each other all evening.

Each day y’all don’t reach out and that I spend with her as my sole source of real human contact (she’s just now interrupting me for tapping my phone screen too hard) my faith in humanity slips a little.