A::[Ran myself into a memory hazard searching through the photo gallery for an old picture I wanted to show to my sister. I didn't find it, but I saw something else. I saw a really bad picture]

B::[Y'know, they talk about how pictures let flesh escape its mortal coils, but Dog I wonder whether pictures transform an event into a concept similarly to how trying to recreate tragedy does; or similarly to how society based on so-called "gregarious foundations" only creates a concept of culture that serves the interests of the ruling class (erm, giving space to differentiate processes of cruelty in society from the rest of the "culture" worth preserving.)]

A::[It's funny because I'm getting back to this thought several months later (its 1776x6 now) and I don't actually remember what the picture was, but I can probably take a couple good guesses. There's the picture I took of my bare legs laid cold and suffocated of life, with a fly dancing on my foot. I have a handful of old pictures of my exes too, with certain facial expressions or (literal) wounds reminding me parts of the manic chaos that ensued those handful of months. I have a picture I remember of myself in a hospital bed plugged up with a couple IVs. I took pictures sometimes when I was holing of blank space, wherever it was that my eyes would frame.]

A::[I look on my phone to try to find the picture, but my gallery only goes back to 1763x6. Replaced my phone a bit ago, old one is somewhere with my store but I'm not bothering.]

A->C::[Fuck, there was the picture I took of my apartment calendar when I got back from my month-long trip to Seattle, with the day I was coming back doodled in with a rabbit by the partner I had just broken up with a couple weeks prior for being manipulative (It turned out that it drew that after we broke up, specifically to fuck with me. It also turned out that when I bawled to it asking to get back together (referencing said doodle as a reason), it told it to rest of the 'cule as a joke for everyone to laugh at)]

C::[Oh yeah, there was also that time Sabrina bet Demi a pack of cigarettes on whether I'd die in the hospital.]

C::[Fuck, I'm crying]

C::[memory hazard]

C::[It does kind of feel like nothing significant has happened to me since then; even though I did get hospitalized again like 316x5 ago- nope, that other hospital trip was in 1698x6.]

C::[must be the plastic slop ૮◡.◡✿ა]

B::[I think this has to do with memory. Pictures surely don't transform lived experience to a purely conceptual realm (i.e. signs), because the conceptual and material are inseperable. There's a dual-impact to material processes by the kinds of connections that a picture makes (under various conditions which we must analyze) - e.g. its commodity form; its use as a physiological experience-retrieval-revival; its extension as a memory-dependence by the demented meat-subject; its enablement of record-obsession. To the extent that the concept-material dichotomy is useless here, It feels like another structure is in order.]

B::[God damnit, Deleuze seemingly wrote about something parallel to this ala Proust and Signs, Maybe his Cinema work too. More to read. Will be back later]