i need to springclean my head. it is a repository of all things dusty. decaying facts and useless trimmings, sagging connections and frayed ends plaited in boredom. i can't think for all the fug.
: i am strewn about in pieces. all fragmentary. i can't understand my reflection. so compact. i feel scattered about the space, outside of my body, my thoughts tiny breaths of intention puffing about the world. if mirrors told true i would have an obscurity about my outlines, little tuggings of skin and blurrings of thought dissembling me in a thousand directions.
homogenisation, is what i need.
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