Velocity—event—forecast. Today I am stunned by the all the ways one can make a sentence and the ways they go unnoticed. A paragraph. An arrangement of processes become objects, nouned into subjects. The consequence outweighs all the moments of warning. A video game: you are Cassandra, or you are a parable for the sower, whose reality hits different than others’. A series of rooms in which your body is a barometer for predicting the weather, methane leaks, formaldehyde, carbon monoxide or otherwise innocuous gas, gaslighting, decoding ingredient lists and tracing the origins of the objects you accumulate, eat, or use to get by, to move through rooms. No one ever believes you saw this coming, and the trick is that you can’t second-guess. Something something “sensitive.” Even murmurs move.

“They” keep a skyline going and generators going for empty offices but entire communities going on many hours many days now without power. An event (unprecedented) (unforeseen) “….winterized but the weather event was….” “Adequately prepared but….” “energy emergency alert three.” “They” are trying to figure out what to do with their alarm.

“This event was well beyond the design parameters for a typical, or even an extreme, Texas winter that you would normally plan for. And so that is really the result that we're seeing, Dan Woodfin, senior director of system operations at the Electric Reliability Council of Texas, said in the briefing.”

Going on—food lines outside H-E-B hours long. Going—an event. “They”

= [ ] is a conspiracy. Of others’ / Crisis

= family hospitalized after the apartment filled up with carbon monoxide from bringing the charcoal grill indoors. Icicles inside poorly insulated. An infant is dead. “They” are going. On everyday—an event, or a series of events. Everyday “They” (unprecedented) failure to foresee / to forecast. Crisis

we needed a new sentence for. Its repetitiveness: the weather, electric power.

“Not enough supply to move around the system.” Hits different in, the “energy state.”

You are instructed to eat more food but not drink coffee or alcohol, and to make a fort of one room in the house with blankets and towels around you and the doors. Something something conserve.