Outlive the wolves

Let the / desert bloom through ruins we can look out of, let us / outlive the wolves. Fresh air is the only kiss I / need and I will carry you like honey and / apples.

You thought the first page of Google was bunk before? You haven't seen Google where SEO optimizer bros pump out billions of perfectly coherent but predictably dull informational articles for every longtail keyword combination under the sun. […] We’re about to drown in a sea of pedestrian takes. An explosion of noise that will drown out any signal. Goodbye to finding original human insights or authentic connections under that pile of cruft.

exact specifications for the font, size, spacing of letters, background colors, reflectivity, mounting location and orientation [of traffic signs] […as well as] the exact shape of the ursine silhouette on the “W11-16 LARGE ANIMAL - BEAR” sign, the exact radius of the rounded corners of rest stop signs, and the distance between the peaks of the shield emblem that highway route numbers are enclosed in.

While rest can feel like one of those “I know it when I see it” concepts, I would argue that a lot of us don’t; we aren’t taking the time to ask ourselves what rest even means, or assessing whether it’s actually working as intended. In the same way that “fatigue” doesn’t strictly mean “I’m sleepy,” rest isn’t limited to “I’m physically in bed right now” or “I’m taking a nap” (though it can, of course, include both of those things). […] So, what does rest look and feel like, exactly? What “counts” as resting, and when are we simply swathing our toxic productivity in soft pants and a robe?

[W]ithout the flickering back and forth of cartoons, these painted locations look like creepy, existential spaces, empty though colorful graveyards where someone’s childhood died.