words seem so close to me, so real to me online, in text. I’m beaming myself onto screens with pixels that brim with an eloquence that becomes foreign even as I realize them on the digital page (re: Tumblr drafts). This broken displacement of the self, half amorphous fantasy, half haphazard order, plays out in two steps, constantly in conversation with itself – echoing its static code to a decoder played as the code itself. It’s within this recording of codes deciphering themselves that eloquence arises, born of the process but separate.


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