There is no avoiding the threat of influence, because it is not threat as such, but a shadow.
I am resisting, actively with passivity, and reacting against all of your vitesse. This is a protest against ambition manifesting itself not through creation, but fulfilment of what I am supposed to be, my assimilation of affect. My failure rises without foundations; a lack of theory and purpose, stemming from a lack of theory and purpose.
Today is a recording of vitality, defiant living following notions that if something exists then nothing is an impossibility, thus hating quantative measurement and the ideal of déjà vu.
Watching out the window at today’s islanded precedent, a singular that seems all the more remarkable from my chair as I watch the wall topple and skull fragment against pavement, colouring the ground a cold, clotted scarlet.
My interpretations allowed that.
There are barely any marks today; only those that saw, saw.
In a scene focused upon movement, the still man produces a revolution through lethargy