April 13, 2011


I don't always know what day it is, and it bothers me.

Part of it is a side-effect of working in a weirdly well-lit space, basically underground, with a flow of people working on some rhythms so minutely related to whatever time it is as to be meaningless. The other part of it is the more worrying bit; some deep-seated and elemental resignation of cyclicality to the endless barrage of humanity in varying levels of consumer need/distress that herald un(known/wanted/pleasant) vistas of the same disquieting banality.