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[processthings]

Home Audio Evolution, Part 3: UE Boom

This is part 3 of a series of posts on the evolution of my home audio setup. Read part 2, or start from the beginning.

In 2013, I got fed up with struggling to hear the underpowered Jambox in my car, and I sprung for a UE Boom in blue, white, and yellow.

The original UE Boom.

This thing was great. I did a little research online, as well as some in-person tests at the local big box store. The Boom was the only compact Bluetooth speaker that could compete with the cacophony of other shoppers doing their tests, which sounded about as loud as typical road noise, if not louder. And indeed, when I jammed it between my windshield and dashboard, it was quite loud enough without even approaching full volume. Even better, it was able to link its volume controls between itself and the source device, so I could control it from either place without worrying about keeping one or the other at full volume, unlike with the Jambox, which had its own independent volume level. It served me well.

But over the years, I found myself wishing it had more bass. Granted, for a speaker of its size, it was fantastically rich and well-balanced, thanks to its passive radiators. But unfortunately, being good for its size did not mean it was good enough to be my main home audio speaker. In the ensuing four years, I’d moved to New York, gotten an apartment of my own, and frankly, I had a lot more income. For the amount of bass-heavy music I was listening to, I needed a speaker that could actually reproduce it.

Find out what the next speaker was in the next post in this series. Subscribe to this site’s RSS feed to stay tuned.

[processthings]

Home Audio Evolution, Part 2: Jawbone Jambox

This is part 2 of a series on the evolution of my home audio setup. Read part 1.

In 2012, after lugging the PHC-Z10 around to multiple off-campus houses in college, my minimalist tendencies won out, and I sprung for a Jawbone Jambox with a blue wave grille, my first entry into the Bluetooth audio realm.

The Jawbone Jambox

This thing was great. Since, by now, my only audio sources were digital ones from my very first MacBook Pro and my very second iPhone, both of which had Bluetooth, it was instantly compatible with everything I had. No longer did I need to fumble with a tape adapter to get my music playing out of a speaker. I simply needed to power the thing on, and it would connect, and then I’d press play. Moreover, I could take it anywhere: to the backyard, to the porch, to the kitchen. I could even drop it and it’d survive because of the rubber bumpers on the top and bottom. It was super small and cleared out a significant chunk of space on my desk. It was way ahead of its time. It served me well.

But one fateful day in 2013, the tape deck in my car went kaput. I’d been using the tape adapter in my 2000 Volvo S40, since I was just a college student and couldn’t get a car with Bluetooth just yet. (Spoiler: I never got another car.) I was greatly disappointed: the car was a mere 13 years old. Just barely a teenager and already showing its age! So naturally, I started bringing the Jambox with me on the go. But it just wasn’t loud enough. For the amount I was commuting between school, work, and home, I needed some kind of speaker that would keep up with the noise of the road.

Find out what that speaker was in the next post in this series. Subscribe to this site’s RSS feed to stay tuned.

[processthings]

Home Audio Evolution, Part 1: Sony PHC-Z10

Starting today, I’m doing a series on the evolution of my home audio systems over the last decade and change. This has been in the works since 2020, and it started out as a very long post, but I’ve decided to split it into multiple posts to save you the headache of reading one long piece about a bunch of nerd shit you don’t care about. Instead, you can endure the headache of several shorter ones.

I won’t dive into sources of music in this series. Perhaps another time, I can dive into MP3-CD players, Cowon iAudio X5 with Rockbox installed, iPod Classic, and the like. But for now, let’s talk about speaker systems.

In 2010, my home audio was that of someone who lived with her parents, and that’s because I did. After all, I was in college. I had one of those bookshelf stereos, which, presumably because of the nature of the then-dying music industry, had all the overblown bombast of a Transformer. It was the one, the only, Sony PHC-Z10.

Somebody else’s Sony PHC-Z10.

This thing was great. It could play five whole albums in a row, it had two cassette decks (perfect for making mixtapes), and it even had an AM/FM radio. Later in its life, I used the cassette deck as an input for a tape adapter. At first, I plugged various MP3-CD players into it, and later, my iPod Classic. What a relic this beast was. I’d had it since the early 2000s. It served me well.

But as I moved away for college, I found myself regretting every extra ounce of bulk in my life. I became a minimalist. I threw away everything I didn’t need. I still needed this stereo—how else would I play music? But each year, I moved into a new off-campus apartment, and each year, I felt the weight of that thing as I carried it into its new home. I also realized it probably took up a quarter of whatever desk space I had at the time. For the amount I was moving around, that desk itself was too big, and only to accommodate this absolute unit.

I realized I needed something much smaller. In the next post, you’ll find out what that was. Stay tuned. In fact, subscribe to this blog in your favorite RSS reader like it's 2010 again.

[processthings]

pneumatics

underdressed —compared to some— supremely relaxed in public, even in the back row facing so much self-referential anxiety which doesn't affect me underslept

unfeeling craving pfressure more pressure cannot get enough prussure 3, 6, 89 but PUSH 2, 4, 8mm goto place the pressure of bed against body and body against body For body Towards body AROUND smash of swish of squish of kept me up

overdressed —for this heat— have not depilated in WEEKS covering the exhaust pipes no escape and craving never asking

feeling pressing lightly lady fat on bone_ inversion of digging tunneling circling the drain would someone else like to here uh yeah—yyeah TAKE it—

[processthings]

Why I want a Nikon D780 in 2021 but won’t buy one

In a world where DSLRs are dying, mirrorless is the future, and the smartphone camera is queen of the scene, I really want to get a Nikon DSLR. But I can’t bring myself to do it.

Specifically, I want a Nikon D780, Nikkor AF 50/1.8 or 1.4 D, Nikkor AF 24/2.8 D and either a Nikkor or Sigma 24-70/2.8. Currently, I have a Sony a7 III, FE 50/1.8, 24/1.4 GM, and Sigma 24-70/2.8 DG DN—with the new 24/2.8 G and 50/2.5 G on the way later this month.

Now, I hear you, shouting from the peanut gallery, “She wants to go from the superior technology of the future to the inferior technology of the past? AND she has an iPhone 12? Why?”

Why it’s foolish to want a Nikon D780 in 2021

On a specs-comparison level, the Sony ecosystem is superior in just about every conceivable way. The a7 III is lighter, the lenses are sharper, the video capabilities are better. Newly released Sony mirrorless cameras even outperform Nikon mirrorless in most ways, and Nikon has to play catch up years after the fact. Sony is blazing a path, and Nikon is left in the dust.

Nikon is suffering so badly, in fact, that they’re reportedly closing factories and laying off employees, and perhaps even gearing up to cancel the DX DSLR line altogether.

On paper, the a7 III and D780 are the same camera, which would logically make the a7 III better because it’s lighter and smaller. From what I can tell, the 24MP backside illuminated sensor is almost exactly the same, in terms of resolution, dynamic range and low light performance. Sony might even make that Nikon sensor. Most of the specs are the same. Even the flippy screen is pretty similar. The main difference between these cameras, at first glance, is the size, weight, and presence of a mirror box and optical viewfinder vs. an electronic viewfinder.

Why I want a Nikon D780 anyway

The D780 is actually better than the A7 III though. Here’s why: Nikon DSLRs are blazing fast, ergonomic masterpieces that take incredible photos—which is why professionals cling to them.

The D780 is faster than the a7 III

The D780’s controls respond instantly, and the cheapest Nikkor D lenses have excellent controls (aperture ring? full time manual focus? hello? is anyone at Sony reading this?). My a7 III, by comparison, takes half a second to respond to aperture and iso changes done by any means: the selector wheel, the front dial, or a bona fide aperture ring—which is of course controlled electronically and not mechanically. The EVF, while pretty decent, still has noticeable lag and lack of resolution, especially compared to the OVF of a DSLR.

Old Nikkor D lenses are better than current Sony lenses

The cheapest Nikkor D lenses have fast autofocus, even by today’s standards. While the Sony GM and the Sigma DG DN autofocus motors are accurate and fast, the FE 50/1.8’s autofocus is extremely bad. It will often miss focus and take a long time to get there—to the point where I would rather focus manually with it 99% of the time. And yes, this is with the latest firmware. The incoming 50/2.5 G will solve this problem for me, but then I still lose a stop of light.

It’s true that Nikkor D lenses aren’t as sharp or well-corrected across the frame at wide apertures. But who cares? At f/1.4, almost nothing is in focus anyway. Chromatic aberration wide open can be controlled by simply not taking photos of light sources or strong silhouettes. These lenses also sharpen up and correct real quick when stopped down, even at around f/2.8. They produce incredibly realistic looking photos with tons of 3D pop, owing to their low element count. Bulky, over-corrected, 13+ element Sony GM and Sigma Art lenses can’t do this.

Also, there is half a century worth of extremely high quality glass floating around out there on the used market that performs even better than Nikkor D in ways that I care about. Zeiss even still sells the formidable 50/1.4 Planar.

The D780 has better ergonomics than the a7 III

Perhaps the most annoying thing about the a7 III is that while the it’s small and light, it’s ergonomically atrocious. The grip is just too small to hold comfortably. I usually either have to hold the lens, or support the camera with my pinky, because my hold on the camera is otherwise too loose. I happen to like the hard edges of the body and dials, although others have complained.

And then, of course, there’s the myth that mirrorless cameras are lighter. With the most modern, sharp high end lenses mounted on a mirrorless camera, your kit can often be more lens than camera. Some of these fast primes weigh around 500g, which is far more than the typical 1-200g Nikkor D lens of similar spec. In the end, often your lens+camera combo ends up being very similar in size and weight. But with that smaller grip, it’s harder to hold.

Here's my tiny Sony a7 III with my massive Sigma 24-70/2.8 DG DN. I mean, just look at the size of this lad. An absolute unit:

Why I’m sticking with Sony

Nikon is playing catch up

Here’s the thing: the a7 III is a three-year-old camera. The D780 is only one year old. Nikon took two whole years to catch up its FX 24MP DSLR to the a7 III. That’s in a world where consumer and semi-pro photographers are moving towards mirrorless, and most casual photographers are just using their fantastic, ubiquitous phone cameras, throwing the entire camera industry into a tailspin.

Better Sony lenses are coming this month

If I want a super high pop manual focus lens badly enough, I can get very comparable results to the Zeiss from Cosina/Voigtlander, with their 50/1.2 Nokton for Sony E, right on the camera I already have.

But luckily, I don’t have to do that, because Sony announced the compact G trio just a couple of months ago, and they ship later this month. I preordered two of them: the 24/2.8 G and the 50/2.5 G. These lenses are 8 and 9 elements, respectively. The sample shots I’ve seen so far demonstrate an incredible capacity for realistic 3D pop. They have that super fast silent internal autofocus. They have aperture rings. They have af/mf switches. They have customizable focus hold buttons. They have click switches. And they’re very well corrected. Perfect!

True, they’re at least a stop slower than, say, a 1.8, 1.4, or even a 1.2. But here’s the thing about low-element, super-fast lenses. Wide open, they have tons of chromatic aberrations and are very soft, even on the focal plane. In some circumstances, especially at night, sometimes you can’t avoid including light sources in your photos. To me, that’s the one special case in which I’d prefer to use an over-corrected GM-type lens. So my thinking is: 2.8-ish G lens for super-sharp stopped-down day shooting, 1.4-ish GM-ish lens for wide open, super-corrected night shooting. Problem solved.

Faster Sony mirrorless cameras are already here

Now what about that speed problem? The D780 may have the a7 III beat for now, but folks: the next generation of image processor is upon us. Bionz XR has made amazing things possible in the Sony mirrorless world: instant-response interfaces and controls, HEIF capture, 4K120p 10-bit 4:2:2 internal HEVC, imperceptible lag even on high resolution EVFs, higher framerate bursts, lossless raw compression, silent shutter with almost no noticeable rolling effect, and the list goes on. No Nikon can currently do these things.

Three cameras exist so far with the Bionz XR, all released within the last two years: a7S III, a1, and FX3. None of these cameras suit my needs. The a7S III (and very similar FX3) only has 12MP and is just a bit too expensive ($3500) for me. It’s a video-focused camera, but I mainly take lots of stills, with some live video work for my YouTube live guitar show. The a1, on the other end, has too many pixels at 50MP. I’m not doing large prints, so I only really need 24MP. And if we’re being honest, I probably don’t even need 24MP, but it’s nice to have that extra resolution in case I need to crop. The a1 is also ridiculously expensive, at $6500.

It’s been rumored that the a7 IV is due later this year, and to be honest, I’ll believe it when I see it—and then I’ll preorder it. But I predict it’ll be one of the next cameras to include the Bionz XR. For all the reasons previously stated, that will make it a significant upgrade over the a7 III—and the D780. The advantages of an OVF have already been canceled out by the super fast EVFs enabled by the Bionz XR. The advantages of the EVF over the OVF are numerous: live histogram, level, zebras, focus peaking, exposure preview without changing aperture, etc. Once the EVF’s drawbacks are eliminated at every price point and megapixel count, the DSLR’s death knell will sound far and wide.

The DSLR is dying. Sony knows it, and that’s why it stopped selling its last A-mount camera, the a99 II, just the other day. Within Sony, the DSLR is already dead. For some reason, Nikon has kept pumping money into producing new DSLRs, even up to last year. Perhaps a better strategy to move forward into the future while still supporting the past would be for Nikon to take the money it’s burning on DSLR development and put some of it into an FTZ mount adapter with a screw-drive—and then aggressively invest in Z mount. Even though Sony killed its own DSLR lineup, it’s keeping screw-drive autofocus A-mount lenses alive with the LA-EA5, instead of screwing its A-mount customers. It’s time for Nikon to do the same, and once again, catch up to Sony. Maybe one day, Nikon can even surpass Sony once more.

[processthings]

proper exposure for better digital tonality

this dial right here is an essential piece of hardware. the software exposure slider in lightroom is no match for a proper exposure value at time of capture.

since digital tones are recorded in stepped bits as opposed to film’s infinitely graded chemical process, proper exposure at capture is of paramount importance. stretching out those bits in post has a noticeably degrading effect on image quality, tonality, contrast, and pop.

worse, you are likely underutilizing the dynamic range of that full frame box you paid thousands of dollars for. if your highlights are well below the max, you are almost certainly clipping shadows too, which is just throwing money and pixels in the trash.

i used to accidentally shoot at least a stop below proper exposure and correct in post, then wonder why my images looked like utter dogshit. it took me months before i realized why, so i’m telling you now to save you some time.

technique: camera settings

in order to ensure proper exposure on my a7 iii, i’ve enabled these things:

highlight metering

zebras @ 107+

ev dial resting at +1

histogram in the evf

iso 100 or 640

highlight metering makes the image dark enough to ensure i can control highlight clipping, which is notoriously harsh on digital.

but i don’t want to completely eliminate highlight clipping, so things still sparkle a bit. so i default to +1, which overexposes by 1/3 stop relative to the maximum raw value recorded.

zebras tell me exactly what is clipped beyond repair, even in raw.

histogram lets me bump up any noticeable highlights to the edge of srgb without clipping. 

sometimes highlight metering will sense a small point of bright light and drastically underexpose the rest of the frame. i want that point to glimmer and i don’t care about its details. so i use the ev dial to quickly up the exposure by another stop or two, looking to the histogram for a hint. 

this is just like using the lightroom exposure slider and looking at the histogram, except it has an analog effect that makes the picture better.

technique: iso & f stop

depending on the scene, i’ll lock in iso at 100 or 640, each of which is a separate native iso on the a7 iii, and which ensure maximum dynamic range. some common scenarios and settings:

bright daylight: iso 100, f/8

shadow in daylight: iso 100, f/4

cloudy day: iso 100 or 640, f/4

sunset and twilight: iso 640, f/2.8-4

lit streets at night: iso 640, f/1.8-2.8, stand very still and take multiple shots

bokeh is dead, long live composition

as an aside, i hate opening up the aperture if i don’t have to. composition and stopping down allow me to carry around cheap light lenses with minimal optical correction and get superb results that are sharp across the frame with no noticeable chromatic aberration. these cheap lenses are objectively better for contrast and 3d pop than big, heavy, overcorrected, $1-2k bokeh monsters. who needs across-the-frame sharpness when only a sliver of your image is in focus anyway? and small lenses are easier to hold still in low light anyway.

but if the shutter speed goes slower than 1/(2*focal length), i might have to reluctantly open up the aperture, depending on how much the subject is moving. thank goodness for ibis. 

speed is important

the goal is to get as much tonal range in the capture as possible, so you don’t have to do ugly things with curves to recover from mistakes in post. this speeds up your editing process and gives you time to focus on more important things like composition, lighting, color, etc. with practice, it becomes second nature and quicker than tediously dragging curves around in lightroom. and since you're not spending as much time editing, you've got plenty of time to practice. to look at some results of all this bluster, head on over to my instagram.

[processthings]

Hello

After our last fight, which had to happen, which should have happened ages ago, I didn’t see you for two weeks, except that time you dropped in unannounced during a jam session to drop some clothes off—I wasn’t annoyed, just confused.

Today we finally had the talk we both knew we needed to have. We met in Fort Greene Park under a cloudless sky, clearly still full of love towards one another. Perhaps surprisingly so. But we both knew it needed to end. And so we ended it.

But today marks the beginning of something new. A friendship of exes, a newfound freedom, The lifting of a burden. A return to peace, it feels more like a resolution, a rectification, than an ending.

The dividing line between Then and Now is a striking one, one which I was reluctant to put down, but which you wisely established. There shall be no more touching. No “I love you,” just “see you later.”

It’s an acknowledgment of a truth which had developed over months, which we had gradually allowed ourselves to reveal, but had finally crossed the threshold and was no longer able to be ignored. It feels scary to admit it, but worse to continue to deny it.

I will miss you. Welcome.

[processthings]

Anxiolytic

I

Every time I step outside my apartment, I have to read fifty people’s minds. I became practiced in the art out of necessity, fear of—

Once, I attended a radical self defense training course at a feminist bookstore in the lower east side. They pushed all the bookshelves off to the side. I learned how to break someone’s nose and run away.

These streets are so much safer now, said the guy at Patsy’s Pizzeria on Dean St about the effect Barclays Center had had on the neighborhood. He said, there used to be prostitutes, prostitutes everywhere!

A year later, a friend of mine suffered greatly at the hands of a random stranger just a block away. She said, having witnesses is a bluff. They’ll just pass you by on a misinterpretation of the scene.

See, it takes a lot of mind reading skill to come to a conclusion like that. The potion sellers are well versed in it. We must be, as a means of self-defense.

I myself can never quite tell sometimes whether some asshole who stares at me on the train or almost walks into me on an empty sidewalk, wants to fuck me, or kill me, or both.

I’m prepared to drop his ass to the ground. I have to believe that, so I can leave my apartment and continue on with my life.

II

They say guilt is a powerful motivator, but fear is paralysis, stuck to the couch, hour after hour, surfing the channels, scrolling the feed, an illusion of motion so convincing that it wears and exhausts. All before we get out the door.

Barely able to get up each morning, barely able to get to work on time, barely able to fall asleep at night. Two sides of the same coin are rage directed at the self and fear of the future. Still we must push on, or perish.

Sometimes it pays to get away from it all. We seek a secret trap door that will lead us away to worlds untold. We want to be entirely consumed by the experience of absence. To drive ourselves straight into the ground, to vanish into the ether, into zero, into null.

Beyond emptiness, a lapse in existence is the ultimate isolation. It is available in pill, smoke, or blotter form, if you can find it. These experiences are reported by the US Government to be dissociative and antisocial at, frankly, disturbing rates, so they have outlawed all but some of the most addictive and unhealthy varieties of nonexistence. After all, if everyone went away, who would be left?

III

Today I sprang out of bed with an energy that has become increasingly rare but I think is finally coming back to me now—

I decided to lose some weight again. This time, I will be more gentle and yet just as serious about it.

Through some lighter dieting and heavier exercise, I’ll get lean and fit. The cold winter wind will slash my face as I bomb down the bridge on my way to work.

The jury is out on whether it’s internalized shame or just that I can’t sleep at night, that has been causing me to slowly lose that stable grip on life.

A good restful vacation and three microdoses later, I’m back. For real. I will draw that strength once again.

After hitting a nadir, I am once again on the rise. I am the one who knows. Watch me. Let me show you.

I will not fit in. I will stand out. They will envy me. They will wonder how the fuck I did it, and one day, so will I.

[processthings]

clip/switch

breezin’ legs become pistons better honed each day push push

extra weight melts off soon only muscle remains contours bending air traversing nocturnal bridge

come back down to earth grind all force into it cover that ground get there

roar across the street scream all the troubles away pound the pavement get it all out

home now torrential sweat exchange fluids for new flop on couch write about it

[processthings]

Truth or dare

How did we become like strangers? Time away does strange things to a heart, even if we talked every day.

I’m learning you anew, as though we just met, asking questions I would not dare before.

Like a candle in the breeze, I feel our flame is fragile. I dare not blow it out, lest I spill wax all over.

In these moments we tell each other core truths not previously considered.

We show each other time and again that the truth that’s missing is the one most worth telling.

[processthings]

alert

four months depleted some would say that i am not yet ravaged and that that’s good enough to continue but if i did i would break

barely made it home to my couch where she’ll sleep tonight where i am lingering, awaiting a feeling any stimulation or sensation whatsoever

something to jolt me back to life to give me a glimpse of reality to reorient my worldview something for which i am too tired

boredom is a type of suffering, i’ve heard and to be present in the face of it is hard still i curse the soul who dared to pop firecrackers on my street on such a pleasant eve

[processthings]

Nothing

The stars have thrown me for a loop. They’ve aligned with a resonance so slightly dissonant that I’m left wondering for days whether I ever heard that harm, or was it harmony?

When I ask myself how she makes me feel, I feel selfish. I feel racked with guilt. Isn’t that how our parents taught us to love? When she left I felt lonely, in limbo.

She said she would be delayed and said, “Get your hair pulled, but don’t fall in love.” I joked, “I’ve been pulling my own,” neither confirming nor denying that I had ever had any intention of anything at all.

With a fury and a hunger did I descend into a spiral of loathing and despair until I remembered that I was fine. Everything Is Fine. Breathe.

And so it was with a vagueness that I acted on the intention, telling myself and another that it was all fine, but telling mine nothing. It felt so right. I regret nothing. It felt so right.

[processthings]

summit

you and those who identify as you swirl around you chanting affirmations dredging up and airing your dirty laundry you are one of many / you are one and many your trauma is the same as that of those who identify as you

a spiritual gathering of all of your false selves with sprinklings of truth, enough to keep you in a calm environment of subtle deaths in the throbbing heart of the chaotic city squeezed through arteries, routing around clots into the atrium of subjugation

if the nuke hits, this is where it’ll be instant obliteration of top talent extending into the weekend, no less. more immediate is the threat of microaggressions death by a thousand papercuts dealt by you and those who identify as you in the line for a suboptimal but free lunch

[processthings]

maine sunday

stately scrappy sturdy rugged carpeted wood brick frame mansion land’s bean birkentopsider outlet

only the vegetarian lobster for me thanks

trump pence barn banner confederate flag south boothbay shack banner and how could such a wide open place feel so confining

boothbay bath woolwich wiscasset edgecomb sheepscot kennebec kennebunk kennebunkport

19th century stilted cliff houses on weather-rounded rock the second oldest lighthouse the only structure on this island an island i can afford the moon outhouse seals gulls terns shearwaters sunfish whales sailboats lobstering boats distant cruise ships nothing but the ocean

the line around the 80th year of red’s eats this place makes fresh future antiques every day supermarkets you’ve never heard of

every woman looks like sarah mclachlan, christine mcvie, and/or my mom in aviators every man looks like guy fieri, billy corgan, and/or dr. oz in oakleys

oh wait weed’s legal here let’s get some tomorrow

[processthings]

Retreat from Panic World

this place is filled with mold, dust, and pollen. somehow i thought i was immune, or at least able to take care of myself well enough to survive.

the air seems determined to slowly attrite me and my friends and family, but now i just want to go to a healthier place with calm, bright people who will take care of me and give me space to convalesce.

what is life without struggle? is everything war? everything screams: push 200cc cortisol! suppress oxytocin!

isolate me from trouble, i beg of you. take me somewhere fun and nice. don’t bring me back no matter how much i may seem to miss it.

[processthings]

silo silence

a little clatter. someone dropped something about half a mile off and it echoed into oblivion.

that was exciting and new. someone else decided to follow suit and try dropping something else.

soon all my friends were dropping things. it became an informal greeting. i myself even knocked stuff over in response just to seem like i was on the level.

everyone in the neighborhood started doing it, day and night, dropping on hardwood floors that became so badly damaged they themselves fell through.

it was contagious. in fact, a CDC official heard people were dropping and caused a public health scare by announcing it on the radio.

in response, as though it was the last action they’d take, many people gathered in a public demonstration and all dropped something at the stroke of midnight in Union Square Park.

the surrounding businesses and residences took no notice, because after all, this is New York City, and people are dropping all the time.

(what did you think this was, some trend-ignorant, ass-backwards little hamlet in East Nowhereton?)

it descended into a furious roar a torrent of metallic, plastic, wooden raindrops such that anywhere one went, a good sturdy umbrella was necessary.

to stand out, or perhaps to drown out, some began throwing their objects heavily against the ground or the floor hoping to shape the landscape.

from this, i retreated. i went home and locked my door, shut off the lights, put earplugs in, pulled up the covers, and

immediately the cacophony of drops yielded my attention to a cacophony of thoughts which had lain dormant, distracted, unprocessed, raw, ready, raring

a deferred queue now suddenly streaming thrueue unable to stop, an atomic transaction bomb

more chaotic than the storming of objects meeting floor above me more antagonistic than high winds in winter.

i shivered for hours. i rotated at such a rate it would make your head spin. i could not. i could not. poor pitiful me.

a braenstrom, a heap, the cattle whiz by, the barn orbits the spiral debris column that munches and defecates everything in its path.

O silo! be free! spill thy contents far and wide! let the tornado upend you open! Drop All Your Knowledge!

before i could even, i was awake the next morning. the sun beamed through my window, and everything was silent.

outside, everything was a pile of nothing. splinters of wood, shards of glass, dust of asbestos, all what had been was now not. and in my home, i stood alone.

[processthings]

Fragments from a tablet found under the Prison Ship Martyrs’ Monument in Fort Greene, Brooklyn, c. 2018

went out in search of a journey but in a cold sweat, full of piss, i returned home and truly was there all along in a nineteenth century fantasy neighborhood in a twentieth century domicile just north of twenty-first century domination

the empire annexes those at home relocates—

    —forgets—

        (whispers of “they deserved it” from the peanut gallery)

—i have taken the place of those who have taken their place so obviously i am not guilty and feel no remorse whatsoever. that could not have anything to do with my lethargy and frustration and boredom—

—why did they have to turn the heat literally all the way up in that gross hookless trash heap of a bathroom on the gentrified side of the—

and i never summoned up the energy to confront the rest of the day or my housemate’s fucking boyfriend for walking in the door and going straight into the fucking bathroom for twenty minutes while i wait— (cut to view of bathroom door with copious grunting and moaning and coughing) —excuse me! while this nothing-human clogs my toilet with his bropinions and lysol-wipes his troubles into the bathtub for all to see—

    —vomit everywhere—

—but somehow he finds the energy to make it the rest of the way here and i swear if i catch the flu then the both of them are permanently banned from my fucking house until the heat death of the universe—

—in what hole does she even find these heaps of—

all i wanted was a relaxing night at home after having come to terms with my own exhaustion.

she is not ready to handle my level of domestic quiet and comfort.

on my headstone, the words read, in small caps title case: Go Home; Chill; Get Well Soon; Xoxo