i went to bristol for work this week.
the hayfever was an illness after all.
mimo brought me lemsip and confined me to my quarters.
we wrote this:
https://www.inkandswitch.com/tangents/artificial/
i think it’s very good. please read it and tell me.
on friday a guy in a crown and a wheelchair rolled up to our dinner table and said “you’re different” and i said “in what way” and he said “chicks with dicks” and rolled away
Emotionally, very fulfilled. Physically, feel like I’ve been quite recently murdered. How bad can hayfever be exactly? Can it be like the throat is swollen and you’re feverish? And all your muscles hurt? Is this hantavirus?
Anyway, it was a good good week. Let’s see about where it began. My heart was beating and the tap was dripping. A string cheese girl with strip cheese girl energy.
Monday I worked, and I got an e-mail, and I had a call, and I worked a lil more. Fine day.
Tuesday I worked, and dealt with the e-mail, long call. Another. Good day.
Wednesday, all call. Fine work. Another good day, after all.
Thursday we went to Ozone and then Tonk City and then Low Stakes | High Spirits. Beautiful day. A beautiful fuckin day m8. May was there! And Daniel. And that girl with the soil. Extremely sad to miss Agnes and Kat performing. Lovely to see them as always. Lovely to see everyone. Lovely to live.
Friday we went to the UAL and learned about malleable knitting machine software requirements. And that was an exceptional day. And met a student and invited her to speak at FoC. Really excited about this knitting business.
Saturday, shortly after waking, Stella text and asked if it was a good day to have coffee in the sun. We did. In the park. And the details aren’t important but: no seven sisters hike, queue no queue, canada, mushroom, ermine, archie, gallery, cozy, battle rap, queue long queue, canada, mushroom, archie, walk up past the graveyard — And then we sat in a bushy garden near the beam engine museum in the dark listening to cassette tapes on speakers hooked up to car batteries with 5 to 7 strangers some of whom made the cassette tapes — ermine, cozy, archie, cozy. i’m so sick, now, with some kind of death that i can’t write about this like i should. but believe me when i say this was a magical day. It was so nice to have a 14 hour conversation with someone and it be fun and good and nice the whole entire time.
And on Sunday i met up with May who is so funny and smart and nice. And we talked for hours and hours too and it was fun, very, and fulfilling, even though i am dying of several incurable diseases i’ve contracted by being bitten by nightmice and milkrats. I’ve been in the forests of Abney with strifelice and dingbats. And I got to see my duckies at the Barbican. They seemed fat and wet.
My throat feels as though i’ve been filing it with a coarse-toothed rasp. They call them bastard rasps.
I’m so dizzy and … do sidzzy…
i’m on the traim now to brinstol. the dog is getting off the train at Bath Spa. i’ve phased out of reality. let’s go to the beach and listen to tender by blur.
monday evening good. eat your greens.
dense, tangled, coincidental, magical, little threads.
everything pulling just so, making tension, in a single motion loop and passing through the loop and now there’s something to stay warm in. shoonk-shoonk. goblin said that that’s a scene. ivy said that that’s a scene.
my stupid heart’s happy to be
took a few days off. tried to go to the water, but the water came to me. mostly curled up in the hutch. got cold like doggy, went wet to the basket.
alley-ooper to a superstar
and thursday? went to that meeting notes company house. collected more information on how people think about the things they think about.
fingerprint smudges on my laptop screen
pan and scroll
there’s texture underneath, feels like forever but it’s only once a week. but it’s only light. it’s light. light touch. next week.
long friday. thames beach.
slow saturday. same thing again almost with extras. planned a little revolution. ate spicy cheese.
sunday almost empty. i’ve seen too many people. i’m depleted, need the kind of thing that takes less than it makes.
i’m certain that i spent most of this week smiling. but today is a close all the curtains, lie down, wait for it all to be over type day. eat some eggs, drink a hundred litres of water type day. charge up like a little battery because tomorrow is the week ahead type day.
it’s okay. we will be {theme}, so goo will be {status}
baller. let’s go.
feel like a swallowed a ball of yarn. in a good eay. like it was to fill a yarn shaped space. in — have you have, do you ever — i was in a conversation recently and i nearly said something but didn’t and then for the rest of the chat i heard these whispers like from another world where i had said it.
it’s beautiful outside, in the world. i’ve been listening to young jeezy’s thug motivation 101. it feels like when you’re wearing a great outfit, and the sun is shining, and you’re walking down the street feeling a million bucks, and it’s a little too warm, and a breeze hits you. it feels like that.
and somebody said “if you think you’ll be okay, or you don’t, you’re probably right.”
and and and and
for it macerates, makes spicy pickles, renders savoury, strengthens, preserves, corrodes, and yields a tincture
the breaking the (g)loom event was quite lovely, and stella was there, and that was extremely good. and there were good people, and i hope to see them again and take part in an destroy build destroy. ballot box in the other.
i’m in the barbican conservatory at the moment writing. there’s a fat fish loving the head hose. big fat greek disco fish. blinged out acropolis. 7000 year old tacos.
i think other things happened in the week. i did not take notes.
monday i tried to go to permacomputing, but it turned out to be canceled. i hung out with River in Peckham.
tuesday was the algotrance. went with val and drei. met loy. good times.
wednesday becky avery and me went to goblin’s studio to attend the afterparty of a private show at the barbican. we did not attend the private show at the barbican. it was good to experience how we thrive with an ever-rotating semi-interactive audience of new faces. locked in, synced up. 3! 2! 1! the papier mâché was a bold choice, but the sticks were cute.
thursday we ran FoC. it was unbelievably beautiful. mimi gave a talk, i cried a little. lu spoke too. river too. it was such a wonderful night.
I can feel something, in the air, in London, in the computer. Like all these disparate webs weaving through the air are being blown and spun, spinning winding twirling together together. Like we’re on a precipice. Do you feel that too? Like it’s going to burst?
like we’re on a precipice? like it’s going to burst?
friday night i was meant to be going to storyteller’s guild but i was having a terrible skin day. and then i had several shaving and makeup accidents and the only option was to sit on the lid of the toilet and cry and then watch battle rap for 48 hours.
saturday did not exist at all. i recall eating some cucumbers and lettuce. but apart from that, battle rap. all day. it was very sunny out, i stepped out twice. once around midnight, it was still so hot. felt like a good night to make a bad decision.
sunday started slow, i tidied up the apartment a little. i’m being held back from buying cookware because i really want it to be cute. i want everything in my life to be cute. but in this care i should probably, like, get something in
the meantime so that i can eat eggs and vegetables again. i’ve heard great things about cooked food. i love you like cooked food.
anyway
free geechi
yo
feeling gloopy
i was right and wrong, last week
this week was crashy but great, and good, and beautiful actually and occasionally <???>???
my ex called me a few times this week to explain all my flaws.
hieroglyphic missingno glitch battle wrapped up in bubblewrap.
on tuesday we worked at the tonk office which was sick. goblin’s a wonderful creature. pretty swell. i lost my keys, stayed in a hotel in Bethnal Green. got new keys in the morning. tipped a man £20 and he teared up and then asked me why i don’t have any friends.
on thursday rosie walker taught us to use a knitting machine. i love the knitting machine. i love that everything has to have just the right amount of tension i love that all the mechanisms are so strange and slight and all of it only works when everything is there, and the yarn plays an essential part in the operation of machinery of its own knitting. it is so meditative, and careful, and shunk-shunk the carriage shunk-shunk. and on the bus. and on the overground a man recited for us a poem about sunshine and love he wrote when he was in prison. saw some people from the FT that night. the next night we went through foc submissions with *checks watch* Reese.
on saturday grjte had a family day at her home. it was really wonderful. i arrived late and left early.
met up with andromeda:> on sunday, who is a star. hopefully coming to demo at foc on thursday. prufrock. bright light.
i’m very tired. and the tazmanian devil. and that little mexican mouse. maybe i should listen to the stoat when it says press the red button. your smile ignites my pilot light. EPS26. tear up thinking about the corner. silent fight. now i’m in bed though, surrounded by yoghurt. tomorrow i’ll make a casserole in the vintage pyrex. all kinds of mushrooms and all kinds of cheese. need a chest of drawers put all these fabrics. and a cunty little curtain to keep the kitchen away.
with the amount that happened this post should really be 400 paragraphs long like portugal. embed my chat logs in my tombstone so it’s all out when i’m long gone to my new home. another guessing game.
judgement came fast. but first, i accidentally melted a plastic-handled knife in a frying pan and set off the fire alarms in the whole building. the carbon monoxide alarm started beeping. fire alarms started going off in the whole building. up i ran to the little box in the hall. i said “silence” and it asked for a security code. i typed two two two two and there was quiet. nobody stirred from their quarters.
when was it that i was cooking every day and making casseroles in the vintage pyrex? feels recent. but i haven’t been at that for a while. breakups, and business. i don’t have any pots or pans at all right now. it’s strange not to cook. i wish to make some soup. where’s that book lb recommended? maybe i put it on the kitchen cupboard with the other books.
“excuse me, i don’t want to interupt you, but where did you get those mary janes?” the stuff of dreams
but that was all on sunday. the week was really hard. i think this week will be even harder. i can’t even write about it. sometimes a week feels like hormones went away. that scratchy feeling on the inside of the skin, like the plasma is trying to escape.
3 of swords. the tower.
i spent saturday in the pit. at 11pm i walked up to a bar and had a lucky saint.
sunday i had a long phone call about all my flaws. then i fell asleep. i woke up at midnight and put my new bed together.
i didn’t think i would be going back to the pit. i thought i’d left that behind. it’s okay, though. if i’m going to be destroyed and rebuilt. but i miss being happy. that was a good wee run.