worrywort.
Oracular Subsequence
menacing, a menace.. see here:
yup thats me... this is a particular sluice of poetry and drawings.
Oracular Subsequence
menacing, a menace.. see here:
yup thats me... this is a particular sluice of poetry and drawings.
it is nice out on the concrete at 6:30 in the morning. wondering whether i should pull the weeds from the cracks. someone asks if i’m okay, which tells me i’m doing something wrong. sweet potatoes are not the same as yams, and i wonder whether i’ve been lied to more about the frivolous things. and i wonder what counts as a pickle. lemon rinds steeped in cardamom and black coffee? a brine bloated corpse? sitting at the end of my street the cars come straight toward me and i trust them not to decide today is the day. i believe that im trusting strangers on that front just about all the time. still i try not to stare. the sun rises and it’s not warm yet. it’s a marker of the interstitial seasons that we briefly double our wardrobe. and the marker of whether i will wake up freely and easily rests on a new metric every week. start time, total duration, room temperature, kindness, nighttime candy and it’s absence, metric, metric, metric. pickled jalepenos like to be with carrots and garlic and onion. and who doesn’t, though this trio seems not worthy of rank and title. mirepoix, sofrito, not quite either with the current theory that a true flavor base would only stand to neutralize the acid. every unpalatable trait exhibited in public is an attempt by someone to inject luxury into an inhospitable place. whether a plant is a weed is subjective im told but apparently not very subjective. strangers only worry when i sit cross legged, and leave me alone with my legs splayed out on the street. i found ive been sitting on a dead wasp and a living isopod. we take those over the alternative.Blog Post (5/20/26):
At the turn of the 20th century, eastern european bundists facing pogroms and black liberationists in the american south each wrote about each other in their respective underground newspapers.Blog Post (1/17/26):
I piss in a bottle at work. My work laptop needs to restart for an update. I use the opportunity to piss in a bottle. I finish my work, switch to my personal laptop. I play my computer game. My personal laptop needs an update, I use the opportunity to piss in another bottle. It is unsurprising, I think, why I need to piss again. It's a different laptop after all.Blog Post (1/8/26):
The why is irrelevant. But the how is ambiguous. Where the answer to the question, "how does it make you feel?" is not "synapses."Blog Post (10/3/25):
THE FOLKS OVER AT TRISCUIT CORP ARE LYING TO YOU. YOU THINK THEYRE SLINGING BISCUITS IN TRIPLICATE? THAT SHITS NOT EVEN A TRIANGLE. INTRODUCING THE QUADRISCUIT. ITS A FUCKING CUBE. ITS GOT A DIFFERENT FLAVOR ON EACH SIDE. THE QUAD STANDS FOR THE 6 DIFFERENT FLAVORS ON EACH OF ITS IMMACULATE WHOLE WHEAT FACES. HANG ON. YEAH. OK. OK THAT WAS ADVERTISING. INTRODUCING THE SEXBISCUIT IT HAS 6 TANTALIZING POLYGONS THAT. FUCK OK HANG ON. THAT WAS PR WE ARE BEING SUED BY A FAMOUS RACEHORSE FOR COPYRIGHT AND DEFAMATION. DONT TOUCH THAT DIALBlog Post (9/24/25):
Self-determination, it is said, concerns Self only in the back half, is presupposed moreover by its determinants. A matter of language, but this determinant-self sequence acquiesces; obsequiescence. A thoughtless litany.Blog Post (9/21/25):
The souls of beasthood are not lost from me, only out of sight behind the rolling mountains... shifting their relations through the parallax of questing.
To Do:
