slowly until i can't run away from the feeling anymore and must simply sit and be with it. every refresh is a habit of seeking and i keep spiraling as poetically as the cache reloads into my browser. or maybe, i really do just need cookies
sometimes i seek to be known through personalized immediacy. rushing into a low latency search bar to validate and self-soothe the mass of tense shortened muscle fibres in my neck
i have merged with the image of some fantasty knowledge that numbs the moment into something a bit more tolerable. then i continue to the next thing life calls of me with residue and a stickiness that continues to slow me down
one of the most exhausting habits, maybe even addictions, is the desire to want to be seen accurately, judged correctly, understood perfectly
there is power in letting distortion exist
when the need to be understood loosens, the energy returns to what actually wants to be made