True that, The internet was not always present, But the guns were. Actually, did you know that the first virtual spaces, cyberspaces of the grid-like electronic globe, were specifically built for pilots to race with their jets ? Year: early 1970s Trigger: Vietnam by This surely isn’t a contemporary discovery. But a …
not feeling shy
A Poem about Suggested Reactions
<3<3<3 or Oh my lol. Tricky. Wow just wow or Wow! Let me think. Let me just, Sit there in the corner and, try and make something rational out of these blue guts; Anything lucid a day keeps the companies of sadness away. I believe it’s more complicated than me attending a corner, …
A Poem about Screenshots
Upheavals erupt, faster than change. There are three known cops in my head, Cops in my head. The Cop of Time, Grants freezing one of the two existential passions: Cringe or, Cling. *Witch* does not always lead to a craft: She devotedly invests time, in missing something someone, As a ground …
A Poem about a Container
I need a container, To help me contain The fluidity of all That I do not desire To chain; like a company. Academic, cultural, scholarly, instructive. Youtube tutorial. I need a container, To order my facts chronologically. Flat. Straight. Linear, (Until wet). For inclusion, Exclusion, Fearlessness, Confidence, the most. For each …
A Poem about Venice Biennale 2021
At the core of your research trip, An event; Where conclusions land just on time, Where solutions shadow the cyborgs, Where machines work with us, Not for us. Of course. W e l c o m e. Here’s a first solution [ ]. Here is the process it takes to become …
European kind of waiting
The deadline for waiting is Hard to measure. Official ends to waiting processes were invented by the ministry, I believe. If there are any, Bureaucratic reasons to wait, The waiting may come too early. In which case, unfair; Almost fruitless. If not as smooth, Sweet days of discipline, Is a relevant song. …
A poem
There is a gap in time, What should I do? I’m temporarily left-handed; looking at the notebook next to my bed. Boring. Some magazine underneath it. Boring. Another reading material underneath, Ugh. No. Another no. Three nos, four nos. I don’t want to count my calorie intake; I don’t want to learn how …
A demo poem
I’ve learned, A kind of communication, different from the one my masters have taught me, also different from the one my home has taught me. I’ve been taught that, what I’m learning, is how to read between the lines (of emotion); Furthermore, how to be deeply aware of else’s interiority, such as symbols/references/hooks/tricks; …