pith…

As empty and emptying as it may be without longing how would you know how much further you have to go.

The shadow owes its existence to light. For this, it is grateful, though, on occasion, darkened by resentment.

Can anyone recommend people who use twitter for complete micro stories or poems? Or ppl who are writing longer works in twitter tidbits?

No artist tolerates reality. – Nietzsche

Fear, yet. Still.

Networks are surveillance.

Mourning the absence of authenticity. Wondering if anyone will recognize it if its emanations ever come back in style.

Once released to the virtual ether, our free-floating, simulated hyper-signs pass through minds like excited neutrinos.

Editing too many images, off in the dark. Writing on snakes, tied in Moebian knots. Echoes in the hollows of an almost soul.

When I’m done, love; when the impalpable me has made its sullen exit, please lay me out in the open. I’ll return to useful sooner.