random squirbbles whilst in linguistics, bored out of mind and rather frustrated with my sweater... forgive the randomness, for it makes no sense seams and fabric and microscopic seams and threads unthreaded to mean nothing but a pile of strings untied together to make an elaborately fashioned mess the colors intrigue you and the structure intrigues you and oh the texture the fucking texture it's like "sex" the fuzz is the buzz the fuzz is the soft shit the shit of the thread and the thread through the wash is no more than lint the lint is the dust of your pile of nohting your pile of nothings made into something's leftovers the colors disgust you and the structure disgusts you and oh the texture the fucking texture is like running you hand up your unshaved leg