Things and not-things

I’ve been a little bogged down by all of the everything that is right now. Bogged down in the sense of somehow having to figure anew how it is that I take place (the present moment seems to require a lot of reevaluation), and how I can continue to take place in the midst of, alongside of, and in opposition to the ruptures and sludges of it. I could describe “it,” though I truly think the pronoun speaks for itself, and in a way stands for and describes this moment's own confines by remaining only as “it.” Anyway, I’ve been kind of inundated (or something) in feeling the impossibility of articulating all that I take in (in a day, for instance)--facts, thoughts, ideas, sights (some mine, but mostly others’)--and find myself walking around with all this undigested stuff (I’d like to put a heavy emphasis on the static sound of the word “stuff”) in me. I can feel the unusable excess in myself. I have often felt that there is an act of weaving that needs to be done to bring my personal ma...