2/13 That is terrible: that I am not telling you everything anymore. I want to tell you at least that I am not telling you everything.

2/12 And already we are in territory about which we will have to answer to our grandchildren. 

For many years I have been thinking that it’s futile to resist the world getting transparent. That the only possible path is forward. It feels weird now to wonder whether my chats are properly encrypted, and what I can or cannot write here.

No anticipatory obedience.

2/11 The wallet comes in carbon fiber, black aluminum, or a fake wood finish. I would have scoffed at the fake wood earlier, but now I want it, a specimen of how we need to make, simulate, render everything. 

2/10 People on the Metro North, on a Monday night, traveling into New York just to be in New York, like the woman in a skirt, knee-high boots and pastel-colored coat who walks clickingly through the hall of Grand Central to enquire something at one of the windows.

2/9 First superbowl as an American. Developing the ability to parse the game while not actually knowing much of the rules, it’s okay, you get the drift of it. Wonder how many Americans do.

2/8 agent orange and we cannot just pretend that it’s like 1933 and we will have to answer and it will be the four years until my daughter turns eighteen while the plants have withered i am not able to keep the plants alive in here since we’re just traveling too much but that is a nice problem to have, isn’t it, i only have to swap out the dead plants for live ones once a year or so and it feels reasonably alive and habitable in here, traveling as a mode of living that plants have not quite adopted to although it would be possible to have the automatic irrigation water them, it’s just that we are so busy with traveling that on the day when we travel, i don’t get around to set up the irrigation because it’s so finicky, maybe i should have a more robust, modular irrigation system that can be in place all the time, just for the sake of the lives of my plants, that would be a worthwhile investment, wouldn’t it, a basic human duty since things only get real shitty once lives are on the line and before that, you can do pretty much and ignore pretty much anything, at least that’s what you do. it’s all just pieces of paper, and what makes it so that what’s on some pieces of paper gets done and not what’s on some other pieces of paper, it goes a long way until pieces of paper require backup by guns. i wonder how much signs held up in the air can back up pieces of paper. i need to read up on that.

2/7 Getting feds and a robo for my love at the pharmacy, and there’s the man sitting next to the counter in a black blazer, white shirt and embroidered bow tie, walnut pants with a black stripe on the side and shiny black shoes. Blond hair and face of indeterminable age, eyes as big as a thyroid malfunction, definitely a relative of Klaus Kinski. A woman compliments his bow tie and quizzes him, curiously, and he says he’s having auditions, in downtown, this and that. When it’s his turn to get up to the window he leans over and asks for something, it has been approved, he’s sure about that, he called and they said it’s approved, but if somehow the approval didn’t go through, maybe they could give him just one for now and he’ll come back for the rest? He lingers on the other side of the counter when its my turn and compliments and touches my fur coat and I compliment his shoes.

2/6 Noticeable how in Georgia, nearly all the people who served us were Black. And unlike in Manhattan, where everybody just trods along in their usual grumpiness irrespective of race, in Georgia there are two very distinct groups: those whose friendliness is way over the top, so much that you can’t but conclude it must be fake – although it doesn’t feel like it –. and those who are openly hostile.

2/5 Bizarre: On the sidewalk in front of the hotel, which in Car-America always seems like an unwillingly provided stop gap, two Indian women are having a lunchtime walk, one of them with a parasol.

2/4 The country I joined last summer disintegrates.