Collected Agenda Scene Wiki

GoMacro

7 min read

GoMacro

Article

GoMacro is a recurring brand in the Collected Agenda archive, appearing 1 times across 1 issues between February 25, 2025 and February 25, 2025. The archive places it in contexts such as “peanut gomacro bar, almond gomacro bar”. It most often appears alongside 1 storypod, 115 Bowery, 185 E Broadway.

Metadata

  • Category: Brands
  • Mention count: 1
  • Issue count: 1
  • First seen: February 25, 2025
  • Last seen: February 25, 2025

Appears In

Source Context

Recovered passages from the original issue text. When the raw archive preserved outbound links inside the source passage, they are listed directly under the quote.

My Glass House
February 25, 2025 · Original source
WHAT I DID Sunday, February 16 The rain continues turning everything muted and gray, but I am bursting with energy, and I am bursting with the feeling like myself again. Early afternoon - the morning gentle sleet turns to a downpour. David bought a basil plant and he put it by my flowers. Do you notice what is by the flowers, he asks. There are firehook crackers with dill and double cream for lunch. Then, a few more of the same with sliced turkey for dinner. You could be a rock climber, if you wanted. You could be an artist in a really useless and abrasive sense, too. You could spend all your time making art and it could all just pertain to yourself. Only make the most incoherent shit imaginable, and then write some really fire press releases and float on by with that, with obfuscation and with stylish sentiments that conceal your vacancy and lack of meaning. I read an interview that snaps me out of it so quickly. The author is talking about how monks are maybe missing something. If you’re meditating all the time, then you’ve kind of lost a grip on reality. It’s enlightened, maybe, but you lose something if you go so deep into interiority that you turn off exterior reflection altogether. If spiritual leaders have lost the plot, then so too, certainly, have I. I’m going monk mode but it’s just Playing On My Phone. I’m going monk mode but it’s just Publishing My Diaries.1 I walk to Le Dive in the evening. I talk for many hours with my brilliant friend who has much clarity in what she is actually saying when she writes. We talk about how to withhold or not withhold pieces of yourself, and she asks me something about how I reveal so much of myself without worrying about things like people who hate you, or worse, people who stalk you. It’s easy to reveal a lot of your thoughts on things like ice on the window when you have no convictions, I think. I do have some convictions, but I won’t reveal myself here. “It’s a scary wind outside,” David says when I get home. “And we’re in this scary apartment in the sky.” “It’s not too scary,” I say. Monday, February 17 In my dreams last night, they take me to Spring Street Dermatology and they give me a chemical peel, microneedling, they shake me up with electrical currents and I leave feeling burned and new. In real life, the wind is whistling even more in the morning. Bright sun, howling wind. David is starting to think about going to bed for the night just as I am waking up for the morning. David spreads orange marmalade and double cream on toast. “What a wonderful thing,” David says. At the party at Jeans, I get a lychee martini, a cosmopolitan, a vodka soda... it's kind of gross sloshing around a nightclub on a monday night, but after I decided to stop doing things like this, I decided again, to stop hindering all my own fun. They’ve packed us like sardines in this basement tonight, and so I don’t linger long. There is a song, a show, and it’s a good lineup of performers and I’m sorry that I didn’t really pay attention, but I was quite busy and I was sloshing around. I was talking about publishing with a famous Twitter Anon friend of a friend who I ran into at the bar, I was looking for service, I was looking for wifi, I was sitting by coat check because I hate standing at these things, I become extremely untethered standing at these, so I was sitting in the hallway, and I was missing the show. Tuesday, February 18 Asleep by eleven, awake by six, this is all very new for me. There is such hazy blue gray sky lighting up the room through the panes of my glass roof. There is David on the terrace with a cigarette. I have a busy day today, and thank god for that. I've been waiting for momentum, and now it is here. Erin tells me about dinner with the most beautiful girl you know. She lives only off of sponge cake, and she was nicer this time. I’m going to read an Irish gothic novella,” I tell David. “Wait one second,” David says. “I just want to reassure you about the plane crashes.” The reassurance is something all about the role of the dice. The gothic novella is all about the moon and untempered desire. I wasn’t too worried about the plane crashes, really, but it is nice nonetheless to be reminded of Rationalism and Randomness. The gothic novella is supposed to be interesting because it was reinterpreted into a Lesbian Dorm Room Drama in a 2014 Web Series. The gothic novel is interesting to me, because it reads like a fairytale. I like the insularity. I, too, have been possessed by demons in my sleep. I am going to write out my Food Diary now, because I am trying to take stock of these things: celsius, apple, peanut gomacro bar, almond gomacro bar, salmon sushi roll, some bites of David's steak with the crust piece of the baguette and then mint tea and then the dandelion tea too, before I go to sleep. You can talk yourself in circles, but of course the only solution is to consistently live well and to consistently live in a way that you can stand behind. Such a life does not require all this talk talk talk on the topic. Carmilla by Sheridan La Fenu. Illustration from The Dark Blue by D. H. Friston, 1872 Wednesday, February 19 I do not want to write you an essay about what happened. I want instead, to write you a story about the parts I made up. After class and then after lunch, and then after a few other things, because there were a few other things, it is not like I did nothing, but the momentum didn’t really last. After just these few things, there is the space heater and the protein bar and the playing on my godforsaken phone and the rereading of all the fairytales, Carmella, The Wind Boy, I have all these hazy spring stories on my mind. I like the photographs Natasha took of me. In these photographs, I am in my room, and I feel like myself. I think I look like myself, too, and this has never happened before, not really at least, never in a photograph, or at least not since I was very young. It is only seven in the evening. It's not too late to run outside in crystal dusk. WHAT YOU SHOULD DO Tuesday, February 25 From 6pm - 8pm at Hauser & Wirth 18th Street: ‘Dieter Roth. Islandscapes’ opens. I like the looks of this - “Featuring a selection of graphic works, monoprints, multiples and unique pieces spanning from the early 1960s to 1975, ‘Islandscapes’ focuses on Dieter Roth’s printmaking, which accompanied every phase of his life and practice.”
Inline links: 1, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!WqgA!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F222d6d61-af1b-420c-815d-f55ad052cdc1_1600x1098.jpeg, Natasha, https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!s_qb!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F1cf40838-57f9-4c68-a834-ad4a65ecf108_1600x834.png, Hauser & Wirth

Graph View

Backlinks