Monday 17 June 2013

recovered mobile artifacts 06/13






june; documenting the average. observing change. exploring territories.
replenishing of supplies produces comfort and safe.
accumulation of "new" is exciting; unafraid of blank, ripping, untouched.
eager to keep surfing through mediums.    

frankenstein, mary shelley (reading, unread ~1997)
diary of a young girl, anne frank (not reading, read since ~1997)

anti-fragile, nassim nicholas taleb (skimming, arbitrary purchase at half off)
women artists, tachen (photocopied pages in library, good collection)

the mobile i carry holds a handful of numbers, these pictures, and is pretty vacant otherwise. there is something real sweet in the punched out whites in these. would like to have a collection of dated mobiles; affectionate favorites from eras i am no longer tangled within. limited capabilities. would like to "push" these capabilities. idiom: would like to "flog a dead horse". mysterious qualities in mobile phones that grazed my hands, time passed, but my knowledge of their qualities is an unfinished sentence.

enjoying fruit blended with ice, evolving seedlings into saplings, pokemon fusion is a blast, chartreuse foliage breaking outta the green game, wearing comfortable stuff that i can destroy without caring. doing things because i care. being real nice 2 myself. moisturizing.

Friday 15 March 2013

BUT DO YA REMEMBER LAUGHING OUT LOUD?

There are many things I don't want to do anymore: -

I don't want to write about fashion, style, media, film, internet trends without SUBJECTIVITY.
I don't want to collage, doodle, photograph or record any kind of data without retaining OWNERSHIP.
I don't feel like MASS REPRODUCTION or CLONING benefits my method of creating.
I don't want to edit, adjust or re-evaluate my own words by a dated language SISSY STEM.
And a SCANNER is so much fun but such a friggin LIAR, U GUISE!

and I realize all my interests draw back to the same things - desire to not be alone, desire to communicate with others - desire to attract?

I have an essay saved on my laptop called 'how we attract' which is unfinished. Like all my essays are unfinished and empty, since gaining a Bachelors of Farts in the school of Dropping Out With 25K Debt And Nothing To Show For It But 313 Twitter Followers.

You considerate try-hard, you Fool of A Took.

It's possible to be oblivious of how humorous this situation looks when your outside of the disaster area, so I'll 'paint a picture': Nobody who you live with in student accommodation will respect that you are a Bachelor of Arts student in FEEL UM when they are Doing Something Meaningful or care about Making Money. Surely everybody only attends uni to find out How To Make Money In Three Years Or Less, right?

You won't get to have the meaningful conversations you want to have about FILL 'O' SOPHIE or FEAR WEE but you will literally force yourself into a situation where you live with a PRAC TEA SING CHRIS TEA ANNE, a WANNA BEE ECO CON ADMIST and a VEG EGALITARIAN with QUEST JUNG ABLE VALUE SISSY TUM.

You will remember how five years at a GIRLS COMPREHENSIVE has made you terrified of interacting with your own gender and surround yourself with characters who you can basically fulfill your communication needs by  playing characters AND being sassy, selfish and stupid (sarah).

At the RUDE DOVE HIT you just want to be able to deal with different people, but in doing so minimize yourself into one room - and suddenly, surrounded by everything you have ever owned: you are sixteen again. you are restless. you are lonely. you are unhappy.

and most of all you want to justify your own existence, your decisions and your goals to a crowd which only uses you for movie night film selections and dragging you out to yet another pub that you just can't give a shit about. AND U ASK YRSELF>> WHY DOES NOBODY SEE MY VALUE? WHY DOES NOBODY WANT TO UTILIZE MY SKILLS AND THE BENEFITS OF BEING MY FRIEND? WAH WAH WAH WHY DOES NOBODY CARE?

So you flunk your final essay and run back home to your city and spend two years trying to recover from terrible decision making and tear all your skills and traits and anything anybody has ever mentioned about you to shreds. You essentially create a TEEN RENEE STANCE for yourself to hide within. You only accept things you have created yourself as genuine. You laugh off any compliment you receive. You furiously state everything you believe ASS A MAD DUH UGH FACKED.

You log on, and suddenly you aren't alone.

I'm Sarah and I've been trying to get your attention with urgency and desperation. I've been trying to coalesce all my sugary sadness and miasma of mopes into some kind of synthesized Defense Of mySelf.

I'm less broken than I was in twenty twelve and Reclaimer Reclaimer! Have you found your voice yet? Was it hiding under that mother bored? was it beneath the random abcess memory? what is m00-VINK U?