Yesterday I saw a B-girl crying
I walked up and asked what's wrong?
She told me that the radio had been playing the same song all day long...
The structural bent of the fluid world: an existence of speech, time, discussion, thought; at the speed of thought, the speed of living.
But outside of living there's a slower speed. Slow splendor: living is clearer there. Behavior is determined at that speed, though nothing is determined in the day-to-day drivel; day-to-day drive.
Monetization of desire? Valorization of passion? Sweeping changes based on these, on the relationships that come from these. Beneath the structural bent, culture, feeling, the rat-a-tat wild, shake and move, blurred panorama: moment frozen, melted by the music. Beneath culture, molecules. Or is that above again?
All I want is to hang and shit.
Navigating towards freedom, my thinking spirals. Often trapped, I'm fighting past the page.
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