Faust Arp > Recent Status Updates

"What is love? What is creation? What is longing? What is a star?" I can't make any progress on this because there's so many inspiring and juicy morsels of text and I have to stop to doodle them or make them into a comic. I guess not the worst thing in the world. Going under ASAP.

I already feel incredibly tender about the prospect of all my already insane friends and I growing deaf and blind, gossiping, and making up elaborate mythologies to entertain each other. I also have an unrelenting urge to call my Granny and talk about nothing and everything.

Unfortunately, since beginning Earth Angel I have been craving obsolete forums and esoteric knowledge. I redownloaded TikTok. I skipped lunch on purpose. I walked around town all morning with this book held in front of my face listening exclusively to Lana Del Rey like a manic pixie dream girl.
Technocratic waifish post-modernist accelerationism when?

Unfortunately, since beginning Earth Angel I have been craving obsolete forums and esoteric knowledge. I redownloaded TikTok. I skipped lunch on purpose. I walked around town all morning with this book held in front of my face listening exclusively to Lana Del Rey like a manic pixie dream girl.
Technocratic waifish post-modernist accelerationism when?

Unfortunately, since beginning Earth Angel I have been craving obsolete forums and esoteric knowledge. I redownloaded TikTok. I skipped lunch on purpose. I walked around town all morning with this book held in front of my face listening exclusively to Lana Del Rey like a manic pixie dream girl.
Technocratic waifish post-modernist accelerationism when?

Entering the philosophy-maelstrom of Book 3, send reserves.

Prince Andrei sees the big blue sky again after a bleak nihilistic intermission, this time not on his back with a hole in his head but lingering too long at dusk on a river raft with Pierre, who, something of a holy fool himself, drags his old friend back from the abyss of loss and meaninglessness and into a new life.

“How beautiful the sky looked; how blue, how calm, and how deep! How bright and glorious was the setting sun […] Fairer still were were the far away blue mountains beyond the river, the nunnery, the mysterious gorges, and the pine forests veiled in mist to their summits…there was peace and happiness. ‘I would wish for nothing else, nothing, I’d only I were there,’ thought Rostov.”

I have to stop reading this before bed. Existential dreams that follow me well into the waking morning after.

Like Alyosha, I feel drawn to bare witness to those with the insect inside them, without judgement, precisely because it lives within me too.

Alas – much like our miserable old Barbellion, I have had my progress infuriatingly arrested. My library's sole digital copy of this journal/diary/juicy tell-all has been rented to another for two weeks after I failed to finish it in a timely manner. I'm filled with anticipation – will everything come together as desired? Has my flippant disregard for the superiority of a physical book finally made my undoing?

"Our love is unassailable – it's like the law of gravitation, you cannot dispute it, it underlies our existence, it is the air we breathe."