TMI Manifesto

Getting into River's head

I am Sofa King sick! of drawing perfect little house plans for people for a living and rendering them in laboriously new hot 3d tech for my family's livelihood! I want to live with companions who understand that reality is sacred beyond your wildest dreams, because we are the realtime dreamers!

I was raised right here native in the heartland of middle America, yes. But I spent vastly most of my youth time in the woods. I was taught the laws of baseball games and church on Sunday incidentally and had some fun there oftentimes, as well as the worst first ten speed bike wreck I can recall. But I miss my fucking woods! When I grew up (finally!) and got to college, I came home one day on break. I thought, "Oh my beloved woods, I will see you again?!" Bwahhawhaw! They were a suburbs now bitch! And I was home on break from the intensely ironic maws of Architecture school.

The woods gave me my first deep language of meaning signals. People I was in school with could barely comprehend my bizarre genius and were jealous and reverent and too often just silently resentful about it. I actually had an architecture crit in college where no one spoke a word. It was a follow up project to our studio's Mayan ruins fieldtrip to Merida, Uxmal, Palenque, and Teotihuacan, featuring the golden mean as an ordering principle. If you're familiar with architecture school crits in the least, they're usually designed to tear you a new asshole.

Oh wilderness. How we've fucked you up so bad. All the latest greatest super-special needs that kids are driven to worship outside of silence. My basic premise here on evolver.net is that we don't NEED computers to do what we're doing... reconnecting. We need to do it loco-globally fo shizzle. And once we do that, we'll re-continue to be in touch with all that Is. We won't be expelled by flaming cherubrimstones from the Garden anymore. We will eat apples for our poly-dimensional sustenance if the need should arise.

When the Mayans had questions, each of them went into their own place to see. Then, every 52 years or so, they came together to suss out what it all meant together. Welcome back long lost friends! I see you now! It brings tears from my soul to meet up with you again at this sublime juncture JUST IN TIME.

The question arises in my mind, can I live here without my wallet? My ID? Why not? Silly questions! Of COURSE you need ID today!

I look forward to working out the problem of being here further in white man or wasichu language. It's challenging. Unfortunately I was never taught to dance or sing it traditionally. But I'm hell bent on learning it now from YouTube.

Thank you, thank you evolver.net, for the intent behind what you are becoming. It's pure. It's okay. Let's keep speaking out.