/The difficult thing about describing pain is that it's a totalising experience that paints over everything. Either it's not there, or there is nothing else.

/Pain is when the body shuts off. that it refuses to take anything in, that the body feeds only on itself. that the flesh is omnipresent. that the body cannot stand to take anything in: food, light, words, life. I am afraid that I am unable to "enjoy" life

/ While moving house, I came to the realization of how heavy things are. I thought of how you never realise this until you try to move them. Things are heavy, which is to say that they have a tendency to stay put.

/ being a person is a certain way of organising matter and energy; there are other ways of organising, which would mean being something other than a person. when I am in pain, I invariably circle back to the thought of how difficult it is to be a person. would it be easier to be something else? like a tree. a cloud. a puddle of water.

/ i was looking through options of desks on amazon and i could not stand how much desks there are "available" on amazon, and i hated how attracted i was to things that are *available. it was a sad little game, really. Of needing to own things when you can barely carry any of them. Of needing to know things while everything marches towards oblivion.

/ i thought of video games, specifically, of video game inventories. of this idealised version of possessions the player storing two thousand woodblocks a full suit of armour, a boat, a sword, a dozen set of doors, and also a cake, Perfect, weightless tokens that summons the real thing in an instant; All neatly packed in your shirt pocket.

/ the room in the process of moving is an unsettling scene; with only a few change of arrangements the room is no longer a place i know and becomes just some ikea furniture.