just pulled into Three Bridges. always makes me think of ac. we spent some time together here when we were teenagers. on the platform and among the daffodils.

last night, in the middle of the night, i woke up and i wrote in big letters on my whiteboard “GO TO THE WATER”. i think it’s important to follow instructions from yourself, especially those that were passed on from the witching hour. i slept late as part of a project to try and regain control of my mental faculties. they have been missing and/or damaged since at least w27. maybe earlier? when was the last time i was present in this world without that wax film between me and you?

part of the procedure has been banishing the human spoken voice as entertainment from my home. no television, no YouTube, no podcast. read book at night on kobo lights off 1% flavescent backlight fall sleep. other sound from björk and many artists i found through soulseek in decade 2 and from biiiy and all that jangle indie (gangpol, rilo, capsule, gong, dat politics, of montreal) and repeatedly KNOWER im the president.

i saw KNOWER at KOKO this week. took 3 hours to get there, 2 hours to get home. it was a good show but i was anxious and nowhere to place my human body which i regret making and getting inside sometimes. perhaps to deconstruct and reconstruct? perhaps to walk into the sea? destroy build destroy? as above so below?

so we go to the water, we go to the water. and we will wake up at the seaside. yes and so, i woke up and then i got on a train to brighton. and i’m staying overnight. i went down by the stones and water and sat and looked out into it crashing against the shore. and i let it run up to my knees. and i tried to remember what feeling is like or how it starts. i know it used to fill me up, shivering against my lungs and all my blood and bones all shaking and it was me in solitude or with god or in the sky or a point in spacetime or all the orb and grass and sabre tiger and corn and red dirt and pyramids. but now, nothing. pressure, stress. something in my gooey membrane. all wet eyes and heavy with shooting pains when i try to sleep. and my neck crunching when it turns. and no focus, and like my brain inflamed too big to fit inside my skull bones.

this week was my first week at my new job. tradition dictates i don’t really talk about my job while i work at it. this will continue for now, though it may grow more challenging as it may intertwingle with my regular life in a way other jobs have not. what i will say, though, is that i don’t recall a time that i have felt luckier; i am honoured & thrilled.

i don’t know yet how to be in the world where a symbol i have venerated is made, in part, of me. hope i’m worth the money.

Thank-you for the e-mails.

On Thursday evening I went with becky avery to see Really Good Exposure which was enjoyable and by the end i wished for many people to step on a lego. Before the show we went to Garlic & Shots and the nice person who served us our crumbed cloves told me she loves Björk.

On Friday afternoon I said goodbye to the people on my team, as my job there was over now. And then on the evening I had dinner at Dr Basman’s house where I met some kind new souls.

The weekend I lay still in one spot wishing I was dead, due to having interacted socially with so many people in such a short time.

I’m looking at some old wallpapers and mailing list art. Tacky amateur stuff get so charming and comforting after just a decade or two of distance. It’s so weird that in 2036 i’m going to find all this AI art so charming and warm. Unbelievable now, but it will happen.

Once they perfect that haptic technology for making touchscreens feel like different materials we’ll be making retro sites with the css * {texture: glass}.

My new job, new career, starts tomorrow. Wish me luck.