30.5.17

I did a sneak-behind the bush (tall forboding hedges) and run through the midday sprinklers in the Rugby field with the interactive boys, post mensa.

Jasmine replaced lilac.

Fabrica is fleeting by nature because being a “young creative” doesn’t last 4ever and 1 year is an instant.

Lukas and I put our hands against the air conditioner at mensa, the good-dancer-curly-haired-editorial-guy (who’s name I have never known) said it is usually not this hot yet.

I had brought a glass container for to put an extra salad. Buying store-bought is for chumps, I realize, having been one for 7 months.

Making fun of the project I added to my website as I added it to my website.

A poorly-prepared lecture about a cool project. The glossiest parts were overdone video pieces with didactic soundtracks. It was so cloyingly manipulative that it could have been meta, but clearly was not.

The first question that came into my head was “who made your music?” But I held my tongue. As we were walking in golden-lit 8:16pm Fabrica Jonas said he wished he asked who made their music… “It was so good!”  I held my tongue.

I spooked everyone in Treviso, zooming on the Hell Bat and singing 1UL outside of the headphones. 

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