I know, it's just past 12 AM, so this it is techinically Tuesday. What can I say? Being nocturnal is confusing.
I discovered the name of what I have, the ASMR. It made me think of how we are such sensual beings. Our cravings reduced to sounds and sights and tactility. Seeking the passion made sense until one is lost in the sense itself. Manifestations, fixtations.
I'm listening to binaural page turning. Books and journals make me downright giddy, I have the paper-lust.
Reminds me of a topic--the topic of audience. Is any audience ever a bad audience? All the feedback I get is from avid journalers. I'm writing for young men and being heard by middle aged women, for the most part. I think if you can capitolize on your audience without compromising your original goal, you're probably fine. I can't wait to sell Cope Syndrome journals! :D
Things occur in slow slower motion, backwards and forward fast. He found business cards slippery in his pocket. On the cards were photographs of him which he could not remember taking. Water drops, water drops, water drops into the topknot named boy-spine. Reach into the mouth and take out, pull out. Girls drop helmets. Look here have found what boy. Girls drop their helmets, he croaks, girls drop helmets shining and dark. Like aviation.