Party at my psychoanalysts house. I arrive with Masa, Sonae, and Ben. I think it's for his sobriety. He’s serving beers and canned espresso martinis. I see a woman has poured into a small glass. She has white nails and is smoking a cigarette.
that’s fucked up→
I am a failing automaton because I cower in the face of feigning anxiety for others to understand me as one who feels as if it's all going to be lost on me.→
My Adlerian ass artist life.→
When a body of connective reactors, interruptors, and producers becomes possessed to finally enter a network, to finally make itself known — it becomes aware. It thus makes itself known through its libido for awareness.→
