#autopeasant

I watch TV while I write. I am the average citizen with him, thinking: can I hell thru what’s happening in America?

Wake up, and persevere.

What self-reflection looks like. Re-processing this with mobile technology I could only have wished for in 2007. I remember—even a few iota of sharpness was a derring-do that should’ve been don’t. But besides I-love-the-art-of-photo-processing, there’s how much it’s a part of my self-reflection process psychoanalytically—besides just literally reflections of myself in various mirrors, haha. There was that literal a-ha in learning the schiz brain’s way-of-being. #Theory #TheoryGirlPhotography

In context, it seemed what I should address was—I’ll again phrase it somewhat bluntly & simplified in terms—“God, Mom, and money”.

New #damnhellbathroom art. Self-Portrait in Whole Foods.

And now I have to talk about Contemporary Philosophy of Fiction—the concept of fiction to the human psyche is a lot more complex than it first seems to be to the naked eye… er… brain.

I’m currently parked in a comparably unbusy roundabout—at the end of a bus route (the S76 in Staten Island in New York City). A United States Postal Service vehicle has just made the round, and an aforementioned S76 has also passed on its route while I’ve been typing this.