Poor Connection

they say the context is collapsing. seems true. coherence is buried under an oil slick. narrative, a zillion pieces of space trash.

why are you here? how much of you is here? where is the rest of you?what does your brain feel like while you're scrolling? mine feels like a bowl of marbles?
what does it mean that CONtent and conTENT are the same in sound and opposite in meaning?

also: where did your body go? i am thumb. nub.

Things that inspired this piece:

1. Neil Postman — Amusing Ourselves to Death

i excerpt Postman twice in the piece I believe. My high school English teacher—"Mr. H"—handed me the book one day after class with a gesture I interpreted as 'this will help you understand our fucked up world'. my 15-year-old brain understood like a quarter of it, but 10 years later, it's bubbled back up to the surface.

(2) Beatriz Ferreyra — Echos+

listening to Ferreyra is for me like dropping down Alice's hole. how does she conjure and contort sound? "Echos" specifically, the way she cuts up the voice, destroys the ostensible meaning, is for me, a portal into quieter, hidden meanings lurking beneath the surface.

(3) Jenny Odell — How To Do Nothing