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[oh, how there needs to be some placeholders - some, not one, but several placemats under plates piled with filler, garnished with cool arugula banter, distractingly flavorful, cause that's where the flag people are waving me in

so here, cause i can hide the frustratingly flat nature of this plateau with sculptures of ice and gum, squeeze my stress into a squishy blob, put things up around me, hide the horizons choked with electromagnetic noise, they flicker but never change substantively, there's still a feeling lying under everything, eternal sleep, not death, but not life

manyana caffyana hadn't done that balls-out balls-deep shuffle in a while, don't know when it'll be gotten to again, or if that's even possible today or tomorrow - castaneda's leading me on, or so i thought a minute ago - not enough whitley streiboids per capita here in the desert to avoid talking to myself, but that chatty castanet almost sounds like somebody, i'll go with that

i'll keep the severe photo up on my wall, and maybe it's not handsome, maybe not my best pose, but it tells more truth than the good photographer captured]