productivity (makes a bastard wordhorde)..

i'm learning a second. not the line by line of pyrenees but an english within english. a code of springs, a language of speed. it's hard to be near it and not think it's a joke, a violence, or a disability. i won't let it. i won't let it let me think globally of me, or self is to template as self is to style sheet. thrilled at a window, seeking reciprocity, where acronym, screenshot are n/a to explain a bug a or b: "I'll just have to conjure some electrifying prose." silence. tough room.

**

ah, a power outage. the first time i've seen my cubespace in natural light. i'm reading maso who calls double periods an act of force, an elusive finality.. and novelly, i don't agree. they're the opposite, a leaving.. of the door wide open, half way to infinity. or is that two ways toward the same thing? thinking of a lot of oppositional things this way lately.

**

i mean bastard lovingly.