http://www.sendspace.com/file/nnzo47

Arthur Russell’s CALLING OUT OF CONTEXT evokes a particular day (which is actually an amalgamation of days) — lying on wet grass at Casa del Prado//lush and heady atmosphere of greenhouses//prematurely blood orange sky//pre-pubescent ballerinas and violinists//quinceneras and weddings taking place outside(sometimes 4 or 5 at a time)//staying late at work for two days in a row//eating McDonalds//buying overpriced version of CinnamonToast Crush(a nostalgic thrill)//unilaterally deciding to abandon my Christ complex for good

You saw me standing by the wall,
Corner of a main street
And the lights are flashing on your window sill
All alone ain’t much fun,
So you’re looking for the thrill
And you know just what it takes and where to go

Don’t say a prayer for me now,
Save it ‘til the morning after
No, don’t say a prayer for me now,
Save it ‘til the morning after.

I associate this with feeling terrified and forbidden when I used to sneak online at ungodly hours.  56k= the sound of an omnipotent inhuman phantom, supervising activity, neutrality factor unknown. 

The most rigorous moral standard up to which we are measured can be quantified by “vice”. Objectivity of “vice” vs. habit/what defines a vice. I am a creature of habit and I find comfort imparted by routine even if routine is a montage of sensory details from memory. I don’t equate this to be something negative.

“Wanted to tell you that I have been on a steady diet of Artemiev lately..in a very short time I feel like it has kind of opened up this new portal of the possibility of life/the world in my head…ostentatious, yet completely earnest and organic. too disconnected to be truly aware of its relative disconnect.”

Every day is a task of mapping the coordinates of your location in the universal day. Is it wrong to extrapolate the romantic profundity of the mathematics and science that I never mastered practically? 

Ex: 

Paul Erdos (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paul_Erdős)

Paul Erdos under the fluorescent lighting atop the vinyl flooring. The rapid rate of chalk dust accumulating in fingernails. A fugue of torrential downpour outside, unheard/unspoken of, forever percolating in an outward infinite web of Erdos numbers. 

I have also been experimenting recently with self-imposed good posture whilst sitting and standing, even when in solitude. This is not propelled by vanity of any kind. Sometimes I reward myself by taking my shoes off at work.