Everything that’s going on with me right now — writing essays on virtual presence (forthcoming), staggering under a one-two punch of Lyotard and Bourdieu, founding stupid unrequited springtime crushes on out-of-date Friendster profiles, going days without speaking to anyone save over AIM — seems to have been summed up and mocked by Cat and Girl.
or maybe it’s just really late at night. jesus, even the pets are curled up and in deep REM.
I am so damn tired of being mediated.
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