procrastinating, dreaming ݁⊹ 03.20.26 happy equinox, happy ostara, happy first day of the astrological year. last week I broke the f off my laptop trying to clean it. maybe once I would have called that a metaphor and written a poem about what it means but my brain is tired—from sickness, from activity, from anxiety (dentist visit this morning, air purifiers protect me)—and I speak with less netting these days. I broke the key because I was convinced that despite what every article online mentioned—often in bright or bold letters, that macbook keyboards are finicky and require special tools to fix, and even then, with said tools in hand, your small chance of success can be thwarted by the tiniest amount of excess pressure snapping the thinnest lip of plastic holding the key in place—despite all that, I had the sense that I could figure it out somehow. Not that I was special or preternaturally gifted at fixing electronic—anything that speaks of foreknowledge reeks of predestination, an idea I despised long before I even left christianity, and my dreams of hacking faded away when I stopped reading CSS tutorials online—but that perhaps I could just fumble my way into figuring it out as it was happening. I find myself employing this strategy often, impatient at tutorials and weary of youtube videos. often it works and I've likely discarded the times it doesn't. so I broke the key off my keyboard all so I could clean under it, mind you, and then in attempting to fix it, I broke it more. finally, after ordering a key off the internet, I installed it while dutifully watching the shaky youtube footage on keyboard repair that came with the order, and even though the key sticks now and doesn't make a clicking sound and is stuck on with too much force, it does work again so I no longer have a nude f key in the middle of my keyboard like a glaring marker of my own hubris. anyways, my 7 key has also stopped working and I haven't touched that so perhaps I will chalk all these errors up to planned obsolescence and continue on with the belief that I could fix the key, after all— this isn't really about the equinox but it's hard to think about other things when you keep pressing a stuck key and remembering how you got here. .𖥔 ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ݁ ˖𖥔. ݁₊ ݁₊ ⊹ 𖥔 ݁ . ݁˖ . ݁⊹ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ݁ ݁.𖥔 ݁˖ ⊹₊. 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼𖤣𖥧𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖥧𖡼 𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃