net and web (still appearing as far as i can see largely text-based) are apt terms; all this writing is like, yes, also a cloud, a spun-sugar precipitant, a by-product of the squalid and glorious machinations of animal and vegetable striving--in a sense, it really means nothing, it just is. that's why my preference is for writing that *is* in a certain way. doesn't matter if it's right, or genius, or political, or important, or necessary, or scholarly. it just has to be alive enough to surprise, solid enough to build on, and boundless enough to explore. in other words, it has to be this one thing in common with what i mostly think i am: alive. or else it has at least to support life. relativity? is life a relationship, a posession, a syndrome? which one of us is exploring the other? text is love, and love is the only text. baby. (2014)