Whatever you now find weird, ugly, uncomfortable and nasty about a new medium will surely become its signature. CD distortion, the jitteriness of digital video, the crap sound of 8-bit, all of these will be cherished and emulated as soon as they can be avoided. It’s the sound of failure: so much modern art is the sound of things going out of control, of a medium pushing to its limits and breaking apart. The distorted guitar sound is the sound of something too loud for the medium supposed to carry it. The blues singer with the cracked voice is the sound of an emotional cry too powerful for the throat that releases it. The excitement of grainy film, of bleached-out black and white, is the excitement of witnessing events too momentous for the medium assigned to record them.

Brian Eno, A Year With Swollen Appendices 
(via towritebeyonceonherarms)

(via towritebeyonceonherarms)

sorry I recommend skipping this as I can’t put a read more on mobile if you don’t want to read about period stuff

Anyway I just want to be alone don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, don’t even breathe in the same room as be
but this coincides with as much of my family who can come visit the house because I leave in 2 days so of course when I sneak back up to my room like 2 people follow me in #howtopolitelygetridofpeople #whojustwantseeyou #beforeyouleave for~4years