hi all

It's tiring, thinking while tired, but here I am once again, staying up too late to write something on the internet.

To begin again, once upon a time, I enjoyed shitposting & radical politics. Now, I guess, I don't enjoy either, but find only one productive.

Another beginning: I was once a poet. Okay... I was never a poet, but I wrote a lot of poems. I can tell you this from my time as an almost poet: After seeing the networking of the poetry world, I was exhausted from the anxiety of having to begin anew again.

To quote Derrida "In the beginning, I would like to entrust myself to words..." That's all I have left nowadays: words. I once knew math; I once knew history; I once knew confidence; I once knew certainty. I lost touch with certainty &c, so now I take refuge in our contemporary flight of words, their well-worn anonymity & ambiguity.

I wish this beginning was easier, but if I knew how to begin, then it wouldn't be the beginning I guess