gg when times are weird, we must be weirder. the glitch is in the strange cruelties of modernity/the ways we avoid making eye contact with truth/how we lock ourselves into mundane limitations/why we cling to the familiar in the face of chaos. And/or the glitch is the throwing of self into the void/the audacity of giving in to the crush of being alive/the surrender to the ecstatic liminal. we are utterly isolated and we are inescapably collective/we parse fragments and distortions into the artforms of our lives/we attempt to make sense in the marriage of technicolor boredom with the beige violence of crumbling corporate dystopia/cut and paste old patterns to taste the new. Like mutation births fertile variety, we cannot resistn the change that creates us. expect the unexpected/ let the inevitable find you lapping at the throat of mystery. We magic ourselves into revolution, we bark laughter  in the face of a domestication, we tend to joyful defiance. The future is bleeding through the wound of forgetting, bleeds through if you let it, tear off the bandage/ remember? how strange, how awful, how dare you not remember who you will become? choosing, now, beauty in the dissolution/ these littered gutters and the scarred earth will bloom something fierce and alive, if we have anything to say about it, and we do, we do, we choose magic every life, time/love, every time/ that’s how we stay alive, despite/ despite it all, after all, here we are!  
 here we are-- our eyes touch in fleeting, against all odds, in these words across the cluttered universe; you know we are in this together, you know?