The compittent blown-up presshore uv our dizzy d-zzz diarhea + a free Calamari liebury box to boot

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686

11/27/19> In the last post we startid logging our consumption to sea if she affected our mineareyes d-zzz... to continue our vertigo diarhea, y'erday we consumed: { serial w/ blackberries, 2 cups coffee (less than than normal), 3 tangerines, 3 few handfulls of nuts (50% salted), stir-fry tempeh w/ bok choy, eggplant, oyster mushrooms, peppers over rice w/ shrimp potstickers + 1 beer + 1 glass of Rosé (so much for our solidarity w/ Bo Jack!) } + still feel shitty/dizzy, din't sleep so well, an hour or 2 at a time. Mo + mo tho we're feeling she's related to atmostfearic presshore. Found an NOAA site dat gives barometric presshore for last 3 dayz (no more than dat) when we was sintomatic (vertigo, tinnitus, etc.) + she's bin rising + falling these last few dayzzz:
     11/24: 29.49–29.76 Hg (felt good after sleeping well nite b4)
     11/25: 29.77–29.94  (slept/felt like shit)
     11/26: 29.94–30.04  (slept/felt a bit better, but still groggy)
     11/27: 30.02– 29.81 (slept/felt a bit better, but still groggy)
INT.resting note is our head was really spinning when we wint to bed witch normally don't happen, rite around the time we hit the sack the presshore peaked at 30.04 + now she's falling, so let's see if we start to feel bedder now. If dat's the case, then ∀ll dis diet stuff is nonsense, a mute isshoe.

11/28> Yesterday consumed: {~3 cups of coffee, slice of sourdough toast, leftover tempeh stir-fry, a few handfulls of peanuts, pasta pesto/cacio + pepe/ragu, artichoke, fried sardine, 1 glass of Rosé} — this morn feel like shit, headache, vertigo, ears a'ringing. Presshore dropped to 29.65 yesterday now it's rising back up to 30.00 Hg. A'cording to sum studies, vertigo increases w/ presshore but who the fuck nose. ∀ll sorts of misinformation out dare telling u no salt, no caffeine, no alcohol, but at the end of the day this systematic review article demonstrated dat: «There is no evidence from randomised controlled trials to support or refute the restriction of salt, caffeine or alcohol intake in patients with Ménière's disease or syndrome.» Sugar + atmosfearic presshore however we're not inklooted in this equation... 1 study even said 1-2 glasses of alcohol might even be good 4 mineareyesd d-zzz.

> For thanxgiving (dat hystorically used to be Halloween, ware if folks came a'knocking at your door u had to welcome them in to eat), we put up 1 of those little free lieburies outside our house dat wheel keep stocked w/ titles from Calamari Archive. Come + get 'em if u's in D.C. (on Swann St near 15th).

11/29> Y'erday consumed: {~3 cups of coffee, eggs w/ cheese + salsa + avocado, sourdough toast, chicken w/ acorn squash, mash potatoes, stuffing, gravy, cranberries (homemade w/ a little maple syrup), pumpkin pie w/ ice cream + whip cream.... the works. 2 mezcal-kamboucha drinks, 2 glasses of cava } Sleep perty good + don't feel as dizzy as previous days. Presshore up to 30.27 Hg + steady. Oh, also we got a humidifier a week or 2 ago + sleep w/ it on in our bedroom + last nite we turned her off... knot shore if humidity gots sumping to do w/ our recent spells. We also tried the eply maneuver a few times y'erday, din't feel no Δiffrence rite away but maybe ova the long run. So yah, cooked a sumwhat traditional thanxgiving (w/ a large chickin stead uv a turkey). Had a wierd sorta out of body experience cooking, watching our self make these dishes w/ no recipes even tho never weave maid a thanxgiving dinner b4, wondering why folks make such a big deal when it's all perty e-z to cook, just a madder of timing. We must knot bee dat loco if we's plenty competent to cook a thanxgiving dinner + what knot, we thought, or watching our body socialize, go thru the moshuns, feeling a bit detached, observing ourself as unkle D... had our niece + her bf ova for the weekend + dare a generation younger so intresting to git a perspective of how outta touch we is w/ the rest of el moondough... knot dat we care, but we muster to imagine what hit must bee like growing up in dis day + age when yo ¢ents of self-worth deepends on how menny 👍s u get on Instagram + what they must think of us, the odd ant + unkel w/ no kids of dare one + also thinking dat while on the outside hit might appear we's compittent enuff to stand trial if we hat 2—plenty able-bodied to trick el moondough to b-leave we're «normal» + well-adjusted, living in a nice house—mo + mo our mined struggles to operate, to retain gnawledge... seams fragmented in her prossesing, sorta how we rite hear, in generule, thinking a head uv herself, not finishing a thawt before our defective brain races on to the next + spinning off on ∀ll these tangents nod to menshun now w/mineareye-s d-zzz making our head spin + ear rings + our voix sounding like s/he's bouncing round in our noggin. Transcribing/reading our journels from deckaids ago makes us ℝeelize weave always bin dis weigh butt halve just dun a good job of masking her... ore at least til dis past deckaid we was a productive member of society + ∀ll dat. Even when we was studying pyhsics + math we ℝeelized sumping was amiss w/ our comprehension + retention, our mined's abilidad to grasp ℝeelidad. At the same time mo + mo we git momints of lucidity like when cooking thanxgiving dinner or reading a difficult passedge in a book if we stop «trying» + just relax our mined + we comprehend + feel, if just for fleeing seconds, guess what u cd call momints of zen, of an awareness dat don't inkloot ourself bud hit's like we's hovering above on auto-pilot like even typing dis indoozes in us... just fleeting momints tho, udderwise we ain't so fluid, our mined reeling, going back to self-edit, detached, fragmented, not able to grasp the big pitcher. Spose we're riding ∀ll dis cuz we's a' wondering wear to go to next w/ Thriver meme, what voix we'll take, cuz feels we's stuck in sum voix we cobbled to gether we don't know when, perhaps [<<]'ing back to Ark Codex ±0. + from the inside we ain't able to discern change, still obssesing in a sorta textual clanging disorder wear ass we type palabras we we get sucked down rabbit holes of ∀ll the baggedge each parole carries.

exposed switchbox a few blocks from our house

11/29> Y'er day consumed: { 2-3 cups of joe, leftover fried rice w/ tempeh, cheese + crackers, seaweed salad, beef cheek, shrimp shumai, chirashi, mochi ice cream, 2 sour ciders, 2 beers, 1 mezcal mule, pumpkin pie w/ whipped cream}. Besides a slight headache when we woke up + ears still ringing, slept + feel ok now, specially considering dat we had 5 drinks. No dizziness. Sew we's breaking ∀ll the rules of watt they tell u bout mineareyes + not sintomatic). The barometer has been holding steady 30.15–30.10... mo + mo we's ℝeelizing she's related to atmostfearic presshore. Wd bee cool to halve a home barometric chamber, or 1 of them old diving helmets so if we felt the presshore changing we cd duck in til the front passed.

 

> In the prior post we also tocked about how we wrote a song called «Rain Shakes» dat hints how even at a young age inclement weather affected our head space. Well hear's another industrial instrumental tune (recorded in the early 80s) dat we called «Filling the Atmosphere» (speaking also of the «wall of noise» recording technique) dat we never posted til now:

12/1/2019> Happy December, deer diahrea. Y'erday consumed: { granola/grape nuts w/ almond milk, shrimp + grits (@ Chiko (super salty)), dan dan noodles (also salty) + shrimp dumplings (@ Astoria), marizpan cake (super sweet), pumpkie pie w/ ice + whipped cream, 3 mezcal mules } Slept + feel good this a.m., no vertigo (despite all the sugar, salt + hooch (tho past few days we've had more mezcal than wine... maybe hit ain't the alcohol but the tanins or sugar in wines)). Ears still sorta ringing + right ear swooshy like how Charlie Brown's parents talk, but they've bin dat way the past ~2 years except maybe ova the summer. Presshore stayed steady yesterday 30–29.97 + now it's rainy + dropping a bit down to 29.86.

> Speaking of Instagram + how 👍s seems to forumlate a ¢ents of self-worth w/ kids these day + the direction their artistic sensibilities take (evidently IG changed their algorithm recently witch threw the youngins into tailspins), seems getting dat SSL certificate + changing our site to HTTPS a few weeks ago has almost dubbled our traffic since (hola all ye newbees!) tho still very little traffic from search ingenes cuz we ain't mobile friendly + don't right using carwreck landgauge (witch google misteaks for spam farm plots) or if we due git folk coming from search ingenes it's usually for keywords like «bush baby fucker» or «birthday suicide» or «slum kids in malawi trade sex for fish». Bud at least we ain't blocked outright as Not Secure + the integrity of our art ain't dictated by how menny 👍s or hits we git.

> Re: watched Antonioni's Blow-up la notte scorsa. The 1° time we saw hit we din't think much about hit, but this time we woke up w/ our noggin still pondering... for starters the opening sceen, how he appears from under a bridge like sum sort a wild-eyed crazy homeless guy, before hopping int.0 a Rolls Royce. The more we think about it, the more we ℝeelize it was ∀ll a warped male fantasea (or phantasy, as Froid called her) dat the douche-bag photographer was stuck in, so fool uv hisself he fabricated his one moondough + the corps was like Schrödinger's cat... twards the end when he goes back + see's the body ain't dare after ∀ll, he collapses his wave function (for ℝeel dis time), pops his bubble. Cut to the band of crazies dat we see in the biginning of the film, they come back into the pitcher + start miming a tennis match w/ no ball + not onelie does the photographer become a willing participant but when he mimes throwing the overhit ball back to them then we actually (gradually) here a ℝeel tennis ball being hit. The End. Dare's ∀ll sorts of other d-tales that appear randumb but they ∀ll is starting to make perfect sense... how Jeff Beck's guitar amp stops working + he smashses his guitar + in the K-OS dat ensues the photographer ends up w/ the severed neck/head, witch he discards on the street. Or how when the band of crazies appear mid-way thru the film + give hym a sign, he puts it in the back of his Rolls, like he's compliant to bean committed to asylum, but then he forgets + the sine blows out the back. And the airplane propeller he's so eager to buy then doesn't take home? + the fact dat he's a photographer, riflects the vanity of trying to capture (in the name of art). Or maybe it's just us, questioning hour one sanity, projecting. We're gunna hold on to the film (yep, we still git DVDs... how else u gunna see flicks like Blow-up?) + watch 'er again + also got the original Julio Cortazar collection w/ the sthort story the movie was based on + also De Palma's Blow-out... same idea but w/ sound.

685 <(current)>  687 > D-zzzily d-railed by a dreamachine/subway connecting lugares in tempo 2 hour cabeza
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