| this is pure crap.. |

..one could say, but wait a minute, wait a minute! don’t i sense an evotion of matter, a sense of belonging? the reoccurence of sound in different patters, just as a resemblance of everyday-life just outside the door every morning? nostalgia, here you are again. you became utopia long ago, although history has bestowed upon you some sort of reality in disguise..you eventually came again to part your fare-thee well..

“as the archaeology of our thought easily shows, man is an invention of recent date. and one perhaps nearing its end.” (foucault)

..and as you maunder away, it seems like you’re whistling that modest-mouse tune. i hear it fading away..

(…) i know that starting over is not what life’s all about.
but my thoughts were so loud, i couldn’t hear my mouth.
my thoughts were so loud, i couldn’t hear my mouth.
my thoughts were so loud. (the world at large – modest mouse)