grew to form from just a leaf meanders he among silicone dreams crushing pulp of tracted morass blathering in the mind’s eye lost his liver in the abyss but she will be found in the ribboned walls of slackened mesh that filter the present from the future contaminant it, the bog that turns clear to brown and browns the brown a million particles disperse in chaos like the million...
so many ifs, not enough recursion
i’ve seen faces, places, and smiled for a moment but oh, you haunted me so
but that’s why it’s stupid to be afraid of the future. if any of us will be subject to the wiles of a crazy man who puts shrapnel bombs inside metal pressure cookers crudely stuffed into backpacks into the bottom of a trash can, then it’s probably not gonna be our responsibility to avoid them. not altering my day-to-day out of fear
a gloomy day, as if the weather patterns cosmically knew how to sympathize with a grieving city. i’m not depressed and i knew none of the injured, but when someone new shares the picture of the eight year old killed yesterday on my facebook feed, it hits as hard as it did all over again; that someone had to die; that anyone had to suffer for no reason other than their timing and placement...
but you only want the things you can’t get
stream of consciousness
Quietly—no, more than quietly, that kind of step you make with the intention of quietly letting the other person know of your arrival but with all the force of knowing that you fooled them into thinking you were trying to be quiet—he stepped around his sleeping Dachshund and into the foyer. Craig didn’t care if he woke up Fookles, that was ancillary, but he knew if he applied...
Sometimes I wonder about how we waste effort. Why do our legs chase a foul grounder seconds after our eyes have ascertained its trajectory? Why do we follow opportunity in places we don’t want to be through avenues we never wanted to go? What good comes from the energy we expend whose intent and action get lost in the ether? Then I get back to page upon page of reporting and summarizing...
i’ve had like six winds today
God: I love all my children equally.
[Earlier in the Bible]
God: I don't care for Job.
nprfreshair: Hot dog, it’s cold outside. We’re bundling up and heading out. Til tomorrow, folks. Image via arbroath
SO MUCH MATLAB
i love that i have friends that send me pictures of pugs unsolicited
their children for the things they’re not they hate themselves for what they are and yet they drink, they laugh close the wound, hide the scar
if i could scratch a blackboard sea or crush a styrofoam village twist my fingers through streets of plastic wrap and cleave a marbled sky i’d be making the most annoying sounds on the planet
mi fa stare bene che le cose non ancora capisco sono costruzioni italiani propri invece delle cose che non capisco a causa della memoria
bed bath & beyonce
one day thomas more