wramblings

myspace has grown a lot. 41k users. four months ago there were 13k. doubt half of them are truly active, and it's hard to exist in the background, as a location and not a person. the site is reaching a size where accounts really aren't adequate, 10 messages and 100 comments don't cut it. CSS and blogs are arguably the most consistently substantive & accessible parts of the experience now, but it's being lost. less spontaneity, less creativity. less absurdity. difficult to hone in on folks really trying to make something. the collage of accounts has grown so large and there's no real way to zoom out and make sense of them collectively or compartmentalize and partake in with intention. it's all a big mess settling into boring patterns. maybe that's the point. that's how things really start, isn't it? messes that sort themselves out. it's cosmological. something on this website, or maybe in whatever web this site fits in, will spark, and the flame of the internet will carry on. maybe it's a connection, maybe it's a renewed passion for personality and presentation, customization retaken. maybe it's nothing at all, just a flash in the pan. exciting to know we still have a pan.

writing against time. against numbers, percentages, check marks and check-ins. you write and hope you're right at the right time. you right wrongs right now, write whenever, when you'll read it, write wherever, where you'll find it when you don't expect it. surprising yourself is the first step to seduction, to being more than a voice alone in your head. let your mind start talking, start finishing your own sentences. beat yourself to the punchline, and then you can start looking for company.

my last post was two months, two weeks ago, october 12th. before then, october 11th. started out with a triplet in late august. I was excited, to learn and participate. this was a destination, going in and out of pages felt authentic, like it mattered. the random button still worked and I still cared about it. how different the future was then. how different today was. the plans were actually the same, just much better. catch up in the slow down; then I turned a page and found myself in a completely different book.

it's over. it ended that day. even before then. every buttress a burden & every brush a bond; have to break to breathe.

happened over text. we called and acknowledged it, sure, but it happened over text. in the shifts and misses, gifts and kisses, rifts and stitches. there's nothing to tell, just to talk. you put the pieces together, make sense of where they're going, where they've been. biggest piece is where they are; nothing more powerful than now. I know how they did it, how it happened. heard it in the silence, September secrets. just like last year. just like last time. little tweaks come before the truth, no one says until it shows, even here.

can't see what you don't feel; no one knows what they don't know; anyone who doesn't shut up when they should should. slouched at the bar, resolved in the car. heartsbreakbread,headstakeheart. I can't even let it out here; if they didn't see it, did I really feel it? I didn't mean to write so many posts like this, stepped back from the fourth wall. this is just for you, no one else. I'll get back on track.

you don't run from reality, because reality is real. there's no way of avoiding it, of just carrying on. you can't help but react. pretending everything is fine, that nothing's changed, is arguably the greatest mark of change, how it corrupts you and leaves you clinging to the past's present. no, you run from realizing reality. acknowledging the way things are and accepting it means moving on from what was, a chance to let go and start anew; but, damnit, redemption is damning.

https://i.imgur.com/6a16CZ6.jpg