172 notes to myself on art written while sitting on my bedroom floor facing my open closet in Toronto
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Hello so this is something I wrote I’ve never been able to publish, for reasons that will probably become clear once you read it: it’s really long, it’s not any particular form, it’s very meandering, and perhaps above all, it was written mostly for myself—though you can tell there is some awareness of a potential audience throughout. In any case I’ve always liked it and it’s prominent within the category of “I would be sad if when I died this just got destroyed when my laptop gets thrown in the garbage without anyone having read it,” and since it’ll probably never get published any other way, I thought I’d throw it out here.
172 notes to myself on art written while sitting on my bedroom floor facing my open closet in Toronto
172 notes to myself on art written while…
172 notes to myself on art written while sitting on my bedroom floor facing my open closet in Toronto
Hello so this is something I wrote I’ve never been able to publish, for reasons that will probably become clear once you read it: it’s really long, it’s not any particular form, it’s very meandering, and perhaps above all, it was written mostly for myself—though you can tell there is some awareness of a potential audience throughout. In any case I’ve always liked it and it’s prominent within the category of “I would be sad if when I died this just got destroyed when my laptop gets thrown in the garbage without anyone having read it,” and since it’ll probably never get published any other way, I thought I’d throw it out here.