i'm sick of coming up with ambiguous names for these things. whether they're about reality or surreality or cyberreality, and whether they're completely flaccid or wet and rife, art piece-type names for your interpretation within your context, hyper-modern and hyper-relevant by being completely irrelevant and timelessly empty. art ruined my life, art saved my life, my life may have ruined my art. let's stop examining dichotomies and tackle one thing at a time. this recording is 14 minutes and 30 seconds of noise. aesthetic or unsympathetically crushing for your sympathy as i'm struggling and so are you, fuck you if you're not. sick of the state of affairs, of the pace of art, of the pace of society and society as a whole. i'm sick of doing this in general. i'll never satisfy myself and i'll obviously never satisfy you. this is a knife to your head this is a baked good to your face.