This week has been about:
The destruction of functional harmonies
My favorite living writer favoriting my lame tweet, about a deep desire for a discussion on masocriticism in a Piedmontese accent via a long distance phone call
The happy realization that I am going to Turin in a month
Auditions on Saturday (a state of affairs as well as an idea for a Lorrie Moore-esque short story?)
Feeling sad while reading Morrison's Beloved
(It also feels weird to refer to Toni Morrison as "Morrison")
Parataxis as a way of feeling
The jarring misappropriation of Susan Sontag (I will forgive you one day, though, Ms Popova, while starving and crawling through the streets for an internship)
Much like the arrival of a newborn, the ceremonious delivery of my new espresso machine (applause!)
A video of the Burning Ship fractal
The horror and the ineluctable Spiral Into Despair after discovering my favorite Whoopi Goldberg routine, in which a surfer girl is totally funny and then totally sad and then totally consoling us and totally making me bawl all over my aging macbook pro, deleted.
Thinking of doing a zine of New Literature with the title done in the style of WordArt 2000, but afraid that it will look like perhaps I'm trying too hard to explore (and transgress) the shifting horizons of aesthetics and taste.
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