The thing about “new media” and/or tech theory is that when done well, it must readily open itself to becoming outdated even before it approaches its own relevance.
toujours pour la façade de paix
regardes jamais les petits et les pays
ton essence entier vibre avec une faiblesse
clandestine , pas tendre
maintenant je me trouve en chantant « et si tu sais ça »
si tu … c ’ est ça .
tu es jaune, nous étions jaunes
pas d ’ étonnés
couper détruire recouper
une nouvelle visage ,
pour toi , toujours
a few weeks ago i deleted 99% of my tumblr posts and i feel new again
When I’m at my happiest, I reject the pervasiveness and totality of the internet.
Found Letter to High School English Teacher, Age 16: Self-Revelation via Retrospection
On the last day before spring break began, I e-mailed my remaining poems and experiments in progress to myself. However, none of the computers in my home are equipped with Word, and thus I have been scrambling for the last three days trying to find a way to complete my work. The closest I have come to actually accomplishing anything involved an attempt to open the files with an older version of Word 97 at my boyfriend’s house. My efforts were thwarted by a Microsoft pop-up of death, which cited an issue with subscription and invited me to purchase a full version of the program.
The amount of stress this assignment has caused me is unimaginable. I am reluctant to admit to a teacher that I have put as little effort as possible into my senior year of high school, but I’m sure my confession comes as no surprise to you. Creative Writing is an exception to this truth. Despite the fact that I do believe much of the work is menial and fairly useless to my development as a writer, the class is the only one that I have undertaken seriously. Honestly, the main reason for my concern with the coursework is the fact that I will not graduate if I do not pass the class. That is not to say that I don’t appreciate the actual process of writing and the opportunity for this type of expression that I would not otherwise be afforded during the school day. I adore writing and working with my pieces. The trouble I have had is due my personal methods of improving my craft interfering with the one-track process of revision I feel that the class requires. When I revisit my writings, ideas come out as a frenzy of various identifiable methods of “writer’s craft.” Confining myself to only tweak one aspect of my writing is cognitive torture. My gripes with the curriculum are not important to the present situation, I apologize for straying from the matter at hand.
All pretense aside, for the past few weeks I’ve worked my ass off writing poetry in your class and the fact that I might not graduate over a class that I’m actually trying to succeed in is frustrating me immensely. I realize that my current situation is the fault of myself alone; I should’ve thought about how I would work on my experiments at home. I’m just asking— no —begging you to have mercy on me. It took a lot of anxiety over the past few days for me to actually break down and appeal to you. My pride usually prevents me from asking for any sort of help or from admitting that I can’t handle something. This has left a black cloud over the concluding days of my break. I really don’t know what I should do right now. Please be sympathetic to my plight and just know that I am trying to do well. I can definitely prove it to you, if necessary. If there is nothing that can be done, I would certainly understand.
i’m just pretending #secrets