we accidentally imagine

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

many different motions

events going forth leaving

without leaving permanent,

just always patterns in if

could really be there, that

decided felt some need or urge to

grow some need urge to a way we

walking by our someone we by us.

or us understood that it's

okay to just not say anything

okay it's anything we be that

sometimes we can. we don't know be

know , really . and. and

another thing happens which we

glance at the matter, and we

glance at and we glance at and it

isn't it and that our shadow is

of us. us. we notice hair

wind into different. we try

to smear the ink and so well

and remains perfectly

misread a us help us think of

something we wouldn't have

otherwise different technique

otherwise , but maybe question ,

more appropriate would be

better, more , more

appropriate . we question idea

relevancy just listen to the wind

and airplanes and feel .

what , it would matter it, and

if it would it us for it , and

anyway the sounds of all these

all these people we've

never met destination as they

explain to how they learned

about little events all

events going leaving any sort

even do they what they do

always were we try to the

patterns in a cloud of we made it

something could really could

something could really the leaves

decided grow way that grow that

these grid patterns such a

such up come up when from

below and know comes don't see

us so they they don't say

anything. noticed

thirty.

fixed link mutable link

the that nothing an

question in answer. we to cry . and

laugh, and laugh. place when

seems like which ears so, so,

so,, so much, so, so much to

at the moment bad

handwriting. how moment we are able

to read handwriting. and

we laugh wonder anything

if changes. we ask: return

: “who are you ?” we are.

answer. we don't know. we begin

to and, are so it our to our

ears important more

important like why of a good able

read, and we wonder what be

next, nothing ever. changes

really changes and we an are you

?” are unable cry then we

see why these questions are

so aimless first place

when every minute or second

new question comes which,

so, so much think of a

important like why we why to begin

question or good begin with able

handwriting we wonder what these

changed over changed anything

changed. we idea that nothing

really nothing really changes

question in answer. we. and then,

and

twenty four.

fixed link mutable link

happens that we go other

. okay and sometimes are

we go from one sometimes

things are they go from trying.

sometimes things sometimes they

are, happens sometimes it

we happens that one other

without okay , and sometimes to

the trying. not not, and

sometimes sometimes it the other

are not okay , and, and

sometimes it from one the other

without sometimes sometimes it

happens that

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link

foreheads enough the

windows breathe hands stinging

sensation in now we in the

floorboard and ask ourselves where

from what caused the wooden

panels paint face of someone,

how each knot knot someone

did it purpose of these sort

sort on their and feel,

outside that incense is

foreheads foreheads somehow it

might open the windows now to

open now stinging sensation

we notice ask ourselves

what each groove panels and a

lot we on the face freckle

and scratch we care a the

wires if someone did just sort

of happen on their own and

feel like we that outside the

windows outside to open warm

breathe feel we and now. open the

windows now . we now we notice

hands ourselves where came

groove what each groove from

and scrape the wooden

panels and the face about,

happened these a moment our

bodies, outside our bodies,

that that the is somehow in

the is that that that be warm

enough outside to open the feel

feel this stinging hands the

floorboard the wooden groove and

scrape along panels panels

along caused scrape scrape

scrape what caused caused each

groove and walls of paint we

face and scratch on of

someone we care a lot about, knot

in the desk if for a moment

and like for moment, that

foreheads warm enough outside to

to open open the we feel and

what caused each groove

groove and and scrape along

each what what what along

paint freckle we care of

someone we care of someone we

care of someone we each knot

in the wires behind the

desk happened behind

purpose if their own own we we are

floating floating incense it

might be warm warm that to open

the this stinging

sensation in the floorboard and

each along paint care

one.

fixed link mutable link

and just like that, the

page turns for us. the next

series of random numbers fill

the screen and we begin to

imagine dots and we begin to

connect them and agree and

disagree with them, relate to

them and question them and

share them. the page glares.

we glare. everybody is

glaring and nobody is laughing

and then one of us starts

laughing, and another one of us

starts laughing, and we are all

laughing and the paper is

laughing and the inkdots are

laughing: the numbers are

laughing too.

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link

agains the wayingsong a

we or to while behind the

eyelids, and underthere, a

beforemaroon, the eyes again with

questions and ideas how to see

under a color when we are stuck

inside it these things all

moving so slowly but the clock

seems to be working as usual

with those clunks and little

fingers and woodenbits we

suggest a counterpoint. and the

conversation stays the same and

nobody really seems to care

about the wind.

twenty.

fixed link mutable link

. “can for smell from

outside. a slowmoving sound

outside notice how so, but it but

this for once, it sticks from

slowmoving sound damp sticks from

smell of does. sound so pink

but for. “can, but for “can

it stay a while for once, it

the sticks from does a

slowmoving we notice how

everything is so pink maybe we it

stay don't. “can like a, it

does damp sticks slowmoving

we why, but for a for once.

of we notice how, but for a

while once ?” this for and, for

once , the, for once the, for a

while like, for. sticks from

outside notice why now. a while

for once, it does. once ,

smell a slowmoving maybe

notice how pink remember why ,

don't ?” and, for from it does.

eleven.

fixed link mutable link

want to when there

anyway answers anyway when

there so all just keep

laughing grabbing poems

grabbing poems out of the read and

othertimes using laughing. “will

like questions happy ?” me

instead it on every tree on every

on and everybody in

everybody in to read them out loud

all blow and everybody and

happen in complete silence in

we can't help but then, a

smile a little smile little a

little smile a little, to all

begin hear can't fine we

didn't realize we realize we

realize didn't want to the

around all things all around

out poems of poems and of the

to deciding to the

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

our and is be, green

speck time same, at

completely separate, with the for

hours, society, vaguely even

saying or it or and we ourselves

and we and or and saying it or

it or we saying ourselves

we why we are saying we are

saying it saying something

rising breath as and why, so

many, a, chord and roll our up

that there is a new a desks.,

probabilistic words, probabilistic

ears think of think of prefer

to think illusion

reminder that we are a pale are

grain a grain of sand a grain of

sand out library where every

are

seven.

fixed link mutable link

tangling wires into

these bizarre shapes, rugs

with strange colors and

melodies waitingly, taking deep

breaths before the speech where

we finally speak our

minds: "won't everybody

please, please stop this

cruelty? can't we see how

unnecessary it is?" some glass

window creaking under winds,

some oil spilled in a parking

lot. how again the why's and

who's before and after or some

some behind throughingly, a

manual for writers of research

papers about electrical

engineering and game theory,

complex analysis and early

marxist painting; the

walls of this place have

shoulders that are

sagging, somewhere in these

pages an actual answer to a

question that matters. a new pair

of jeans, a holiday

decoration left up for months, a

lightbulb which doesn't fit even

though we could have sworn the

size was right at the store.

color combinations making us

feel sick and wonder why we

care about the dissonance,

why we should prefer one to

the other. we conclude that

we're all just bits of air

moving with the waves of some

song we can't hear: now

banging on the wooddrums, the

thoughts and the doubts, hopes or

imaginations throwing fists at the

organ keyboard, some body of

loud waters, some

electrical structure groaning in

rains particles trapped in

the breezings, the sine

waves, the eyeballs thrown

left and right or up and down

or is that a sign of

happiness, of

peacefulness? who's to tell what's

harmony and what's dissonance?

who's to tell the words of the

song when each moment's just

a few bits of data? hard to

see the picture from a

pixel, hard to find the poem

through a word a letter an inkdot

the arounds and behinds

lost somewhere in the mix,

the breath being exhaled

before we even noticed it was

inside our bodies, each note

rising just a little higher or

just a little more like dirty

wallpaper: we ask each other where

it happened. where the

music got faster. where the

blue became green, where the

light was switched on and the

newer waves began to

interfere with things and distort

the shapes, canceling out

or multiplying or

performing more complicated

operations until the noise is noise

and the signal is noise and

the noise is still noise yet

somehow wider, more sideways

and spinningly and

uppingly and backwardly, more

harsh and out of sync, now neon

colorlines and batteries, strange

gaps in the spiral not

patterns but something about

them which makes us feel the

walls are moving further away

and the room is becoming

smaller, that one moment is

another and the second hand is

somehow different this time

around. we cannot help but go to

sleep again, this time with a

strange smile and already

looking forward to coffee. this

time with socks and a thicker

blanket. this time with the

windows open: and in comes the

cooler air.

thirteen.

fixed link mutable link

we wait for a few minutes

and wonder if it would be

okay for us to ask now: "is

this beautiful?" we wonder

if nobody noticed and we

watch the air just sort of move

around through the leaves. we

take another breath with the

sunlight and feel warmer.

throughs and arounds

behindingly the now nowing while

again the time continues and

stops and continues again.

circles of ink we close our eyes.

nine.

fixed link mutable link

we are breathing. and we

are still breathing. one

thought and another passing by

in the street while we ask

ourselves if this is going

anywhere if we should instead be

focusing on something else like

the way the smoke is

drifting away from the incense

stick, or the sound our eyelids

make when we blink. is there a

place for rushing anymore?

the softmurmurs again,

reminding us about our breath: and

a little blue bird lands

on the windowsill. it is

singing.

twenty six.

fixed link mutable link

the wrong we in we, but

sneaking sneaking be we, but

sneaking be goals sneaking into

into the that could intended

, but the maybe that could

be. ideas and

interactions. spray ideas and

interactions goals sneaking the

point.. the thoughts again

interactions interactions thoughts

again . ideas point again.

into into the.. ideas and

interactions.. sneaking into the

paints and ideas ideas

permeating all just of squares and

things each other the

geometries and and dominoes fall

fall in not we expected

expected but maybe that point.

interactions again. ideas point.

goals again interactions.

spray spray ideas permeating

these colors and ideas

permeating while we watch with it

all outlines it all just

while we smile we all all just

just of squares and sort of of

making the geometries which

always seem going

eighteen.

fixed link mutable link

systems all around us

and our lives fracturing

breaking apart piece by piece as

we keep trying to glue

things back together with

words and theories and poems

and cathedrals

architectures in the mind and and later

in concrete, we begin to

feel jittery as we realize we

haven't stood up in hours, this

chair and its arms a little too

narrow, pressing against the

sides of our skulls, plurals

and singulars not having so

much significance to us now

when the lights are

flickering so subtly. we pray but

don't know who we are praying

to who we are praying for,

what we want, what we should

want. fading. fading.

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link

good saw seems for now

but we we remember all these

different circumstances and

nineteen.

fixed link mutable link

the corner of the room

empty except for the little

grooves in the floorboard, we

smile. the moments going and

going in such a beautiful way

that we can't take our eyes

off it, noticing just how

inconsistent things are, how blurry

and arbitrary the

differences seem between things and

people and ideas, how musical a

painting can sound the ink never

seems to dry.

twenty two.

fixed link mutable link

which slantingway or

combination making one thing work

and another not? the

vibrations more quiet every time we

lean our ears closer trying

to hear inside the sounds.

we are aware of our actions

but try not to notice. the

sun outside making this

fuzzy kind of sound against

the grass. we pause and just

breathe for a while. where again

the thisthat theringly,

the second hand ticking by

again and again while all

these angles crackling, we

breathe for a while longer and

the sun keeps making that

sound and we keep sniffling

from seasonal allergies. a

bird call we don't

recognize. we can't help but smile

at the sound of people

laughing and somehow the voices

make this sort of harmony

against the windchimes and we

hear all these acoustic

vibrations buzzing inside our

chests and making us feel not

warmer but more okay. more

okay.

ten.

fixed link mutable link

we ask ourselves some

question we can't hear, muffled

because our heads are

underwater, this cold sensation

pressing on our foreheads while

we feel our socks becoming

heavy, cottonfibers grabbing

skin and dragging behind our

feet, cold passing between

our toes. maroon painted

walls and a thick sweater,

crinkling plastic bag full of

snacks. we notice it is becoming

later every moment, and that

as soon as we count one

number there is another in

front of that, always room for

another one or zero or eighty

seven or pencilcase

dirtyshoe, these power outlets

rusting over even though we

can't see where the water

could have come from fading in

the carpet telling which

way people walk most

without asking why they walk it

so often when it seems

there are so, so many other

ways to go and that this way

isn't even the easiest or most

efficient or beautiful or

surprising: they are taking the path

because it is the path they take,

and we can't help but

laughalittle at how beautiful that is

not to say that one is better

than another or that anyone

is wrong for going the way

they do or that we think we are

better than going that

particular way to the couch, but

that we know in the end we are

going to go that way too and

that's just fine. it's just as

good an option as any so we

don't see a reason why not it's

beautiful enough and it's

surprising enough and that itself

may be the most beautiful

and surprising thing of all

at the moment.

twenty three.

fixed link mutable link

themselves or care

because would or the arm and our

skin and the, the and instant

we are able to see

everything around is, what every

and object is doing, moves

tones floorboards and

transformed energy and makes wood

squirrels climb and wheels. we out

to be joke sentence.

bricks another opinions the

same bucket, the, the timer

keeps of ink going we other

room and we temperature

changing around how glowing we

can somehow moment think

about not but somehow we don't

care. have is blood skin the

bit, and instant around us

every person, just in

eight.

fixed link mutable link

we accidentally

imagine ourselves as having for

a head this strangely

shaped box or a bird feeder with

a triangular roof or

something similar and we are

sitting in the front passenger

seat of an old car and someone

we care a lot about asks,

who are you? and we

think for a minute, and then

another. we aren't able to answer

with anything except a held

hand, and we somehow find

ourselves caring more about them

just because they asked.

they can't answer either,

and the grip gets tighter

and they aren't making eye

contact but that's okay because

we aren't looking anyway

and we are both these

strange wooden boxes attached

to bodies, heads without

eyes which still say so much,

eyes without laughinglines

which always find new things

to smile about an itch

behind our ears, the way this

piece of paper falls on the

ground, the sound of an overhead

lamp switching on laughing

about nothing in particular

and everything in

particular, wanting to want

everything and wanting to want

nothing, to feel everything and

to feel nothing, or at

least something the grip

getting tighter and we remember

how okay it is, how

beautiful it is and how funny it is

that poetry and music might

be the same thing after

all, that hiding is okay

sometimes and being naked is okay

too, that sometimes things

lead to other things, and

sometimes they don't, and

sometimes things just happen and

they keep just happening and

they don't stop. they don't

stop and it seems like they

never will, so it starts

making sense to just accept

this and close our eyes and

smile a little but somehow

this feels impossible. we

get frustrated and start to

do things we don't want to

do, blaming other people

for things nobody had

control over in the first place

and jumping to conclusions

and making assumptions

about other people and their

intentions and what they want or

what they are afraid of. we

forget that they are us, that

their grip is getting tighter

and that nothing is okay for

them either. we remember

that their boxy head is

crying and we have been trying

not to notice. we remember

that we are all the same

person born into different

bodies, and that this is a

beautiful thing. this is a

beautiful thing.

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link

it. we we can't help

little laugh at little and we

like numbers and days

happening at time might sound like

if at the two things

happening at the if suspect is ) if

listen (we suspect trying to

write they were to as they. we

stop worrying books (not )

start thinking (not ) about

what might tomorrow or place

of when particular of to

begin with, just going across

by one next which through

going we just happen we can't

help a little and how about

week , happening at what at

same suspect to is ) and if

listen were write they

listened. stop worrying

worrying for breakfast tomorrow

or why we are writing any

particular sense of without any

particular sense of intention to,

just across lines one by one

with a scratchy pen and going

straight through our ear the next

word which bounces through

our ear it and going with it .

just going with we suspect

and we suspect that we can't

that things just happen

somehow and then think about

like numbers two things

happening the to they were trying

write things listened things

down listened. we

scheduling and start thinking (not

worrying for breakfast tomorrow

or why cross one another we

are any particular to begin

with, pen which through our

ear just going with and just

going with . things just smile

we suspect that but smile

and

three.

fixed link mutable link

how did we get here? the

questions which keep making their

way inside our mouths as if

we never could learn from

the last time we couldn't

answer and instead only become

more unhappy and began to

throw things at the walls with

some inexpressible anger

screaming and shouting with a red

face and bulging veins,

fists again and again against

the door not even caring

what's on the other side, too

caught up with the idea of the

door being there in the first

place another why and another

if causing the lights to

flicker and the stove to begin to

smell like something is

burning so we all try to remember

what we had done in the

kitchen last but we can't

remember, and even the attempts to

remember make us shout with fewer

words, make us scream with our

fingers and pound harder and

harder on the door while the

wood is splintering here and

there and the doorframe

appears to budge this time or

that time or this time again

and again and again

zero.

fixed link mutable link

and all at once things

are so quiet, a tiny hiss

from the walls, distant

clanging of a ventilation fan. we

breathe with the sunlight,

passing clouds causing these

little pulses in the sunglow

and somehow we feel it in our

toes even though we can't

quite tell why the wind

chooses the pitches it sings

against the window, why one

harmony should point to

another, why every story has some

sort of climax where

elements and trajectories

culminate into some bigger thing

as if we had been heading

there all along as if there

were some kind of purpose

behind the penscratches or

where this leaf decides to

fall in this rotting pile we

notice a pain in our lower back

from bad posture and some

strange sense of pressure from

the bottom of our right foot

now the ventilation fan

slowing down into a periodic

banging; we notice a coin lying on

the ground but we can't make

out which side it landed on.

do we care? is it good to

care? would it matter if we

knew? we are staring at the

coin and the coin is staring

back.

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link

we remember that the

stick we breathe and we

breathe and ask breathe we

laughing isn't it how we can't how

help we sun the sun sun starts

help coming the sun shades of

these colors whose whose and

names remember that lines of

incense is is still glowing

somehow in our lungs we breathe

and! isn't it ask questions

. laughing!! isn't it

laughing!. we forget. we forget

to ask . laughing can't

help we can't help but but

smile when the right on cue cue

sun starts coming right on

cue whose names lines and so

many somehow somehow

becoming smoke in our lungs in our

becoming smoke in we breathe and

we breathe forget forget.

we! isn't it the names we

lines and lines many we lines

and so many lines lines.

remember that the stick of

incense is in our we breathe and

we breathe it funny how

isn't it funny can't can't

help but the sun starts the

cue of these names we can't

can't of these colors back

right on coming back shades of

these colors names we that the

stick incense we the stick of

the and stick of in and we

breathe ask ask questions.

laughing! isn't we we! we can't

help of these these colors

whose can't remember names we

we can't remember many

lines remember the remember

that the still . isn't can't

how how we can't help but

smile right shades coming

back on cue when the the cue

when the we it funny isn't

isn't isn't it funny how ask

isn't it funny how we can't!..

we it we can't help we can't

smile when the right shades

these colors whose names we

and lines and so many many

stick of still somehow we

breathe and to . we we forget ask

questions! isn't laughing

questions breathe and we we forget

breathe. we breathe. forget to.

! forget questions

breathe we we breathe we forget

breathe we can't help when the

sun starts help but but back

back right on whose and so

many that the and many stick

so many

twenty five.

fixed link mutable link

aren't we. best we

aren't pretend we aren't

listening. every repetition

getting a a repetition getting a

little repetition accurate,

with. the conversation

going the conversation going

on to our we pretend we

becoming heated while becoming

heated while we do going on to

aren't listening. every

repetition. every repetition

getting we becoming heated

while we do our we best

listening pretend heated while

becoming heated while outside

pretend we aren't listening.

little repetition to pretend

listening. every a little more a

repetition listening repetition

getting a little, a more

accurate. going on we heated. we

do our conversation going

on we conversation

mistakes. accurate, a little,

little more accurate, the

conversation going with

conversation faster and a little,

every repetition getting a

little more a little more

mistakes. fewer mistakes.

outside becoming heated best

getting more faster. going and

with accurate, a and little

going on outside pretend we

aren't listening, every

repetition getting a little aren't

listening pretend while to

pretend we aren't pretend we

becoming our repetition

accurate, a little mistakes. a

little accurate, more

accurate every repetition our on

outside mistakes more getting a

repetition getting a little more

accurate. little faster, a

conversation

twelve.

fixed link mutable link

we never seem to notice

the changes until they've

already happened. or at least

they are well into

happening. we wonder why that is:

the clouds evaporating and

the sun coming out, the air

getting so slightly warmer; a

single row of bricks painted a

different color. who the behinds

through before how's and where

when whenever the

againagain the words repeatingly

as we notice a little

cottonfluff drifting toward us. it

sticks to our ink, and we ask

again where meaning comes

from. a million coins being

thrown every instant, fields

of possibility so

terrifyingly wide staring us in the

eye so intensely we have to

look away and we notice this

little bug just flying around,

landing, and flying around

again. flying, landing, and

flying around again.

two.

fixed link mutable link

because the longer we

stare at the details, the less

we are sure they even

matter.

six.

fixed link mutable link

silence and quiet now. a

small voice humming and

laughing in the other room. a

crystal or some melting snow.

behinds toward while again

around where's or why's while

leftandright shrinking silently. a

wooden creak. a scratch. all

centers things happening all

around, things just happening

and just being the way they

are. and we realize that this

is a beautiful thing. that

this is a beautiful thing.

four.

fixed link mutable link

it's hard to speak

sometimes. we are frustrated with

ourselves for our

inconsistencies once at peace and

allowing things to be just the way

they are and want to be,

always taking action and never

taking action,

leftandrighting with the leftandright

once again wishing things

were a different way or that

the coin had landed on the

other face; we can't figure

out who we are, and we aren't

quite sure if that question

leads anywhere hard to find

the energy to say anything,

too many responses waiting

behind each option which never

seem to go anywhere

positive, anywhere that doesn't

hurt anybody or dissipate

into the grass as if nothing

had happened in the first

place and we begin to wonder if

anything actually did or does

happen or if we had somehow just

thought it all up out of some kind

of desperation and

confusion aimed at nothing in

particular, cycles going back and

forth but never quite the same

way, always surprising

somehow and adding to the

confusion and lack of any sense of

place, the feeling that we are

nowhere and the feeling that we

are getting nowhere.

twenty one.

fixed link mutable link

we wonder what would

make us happy, what would

make this headache go away

which keeps distracting us

from everything going on the

scratching pens and observations,

a quote out of context we

leave the incense burning

when we go to sleep even

though we know it's a fire

hazard and it puts our lives in

danger and the lives of all the

other people living above and

below us, and all of the people

we know and the people who

care about what happens to us

even though we never asked

them to. we wonder why it

should matter that something

happens to anyone, we wonder why

we care. and everything is

so quiet.

seventeen.

fixed link mutable link

colors and from old

black and , those marbles in a ,

not going anywhere in

seeming to wonder , their

strange rhythms tinkling or

rubbing cardboard. loudly with

the batteries. the asking

something or anothersong box

reflects in papers important

with colors from whatever

those meaning. anywhere in

particular seeming to or rubbing

bottle so loudly with. the

looking for colorshades or or

thismomentingly , casting the the

surface, before important some

with colors an whatever in

glass in get their rhythms

rubbing eyes glimmering loudly

with batteries . the

different important or something

or of cereal its own color

onto the desk surface, some

with colors and blindly and

jet printer . marbles in not

going the strange bottle

glimmering so loudly with the . the

lithium looking ? between

colorshades matter like or

anothersong thismomentingly box,

in and nearby surface ,,

some colors and drawn

paintings old white laser jet

whatever that means, glass bowl ,

anywhere in particular wonder

where

five.

fixed link mutable link

quietingly, the

softmurmurs not trying to say

anything in particular or

convince anyone of anything,

prefering to let things just exist

the way they are and stay the

same when they need to stay

the same and change when

they need to change, or not

even need to stay the same or

need to change but maybe

instead want to stay the same or

want to change, or rather: it

just happens. it just

happens, and it keeps just

happening. the softmurmers not

even speaking about what's

going on or what's not going on

but instead just

mentioning about whatever is on

their mind at that moment,

letting it out and letting it go,

the sound waves not

disappearing but echoing off a

thousand surfaces and every

blade of grass, split and

muffled and distorted and

echoed until they sound like

dead trees, the sun pushing

the waves around a little

through the screen door, gnats

in the air just sort of

moving around.

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

twenty eight.

thirty.

twenty four.

twenty seven.

one.

fourteen.

twenty.

eleven.

thirty one.

seven.

thirteen.

nine.

twenty six.

eighteen.

fifteen.

nineteen.

twenty two.

ten.

twenty three.

eight.

twenty nine.

three.

zero.

sixteen.

twenty five.

twelve.

two.

six.

four.

twenty one.

seventeen.

five.