we accidentally imagine

eleven.

fixed link mutable link

we keep asking

questions like “will this make me

happy?” when instead it might be

more interesting to ask what

it would sound like if the

leaves on every tree were poems

written on little sheets of

paper and everybody in the

world began to read them out

loud all at the same time and

then the wind began to blow

and the poems went flying in

the air all around and

everybody just watched it happen

in complete silence we

can't help but smile a little,

and then a lot. and someone

hugs the stranger to their

left and we all begin to

laugh. we ask ourselves

another question we can't hear

because of all the wind and

poems, and that's just fine we

realize we didn't want to know

the answers anyway when

there are so many confusing

and beautiful things all

around us anyway. we just keep

laughing and grabbing poems out

of the air, sometimes

deciding to read them and

othertimes using them as napkins.

the wind, the wind is

laughing too.

twenty five.

fixed link mutable link

. we do our best to aren't

listening repetition getting.

every more accurate, a little

faster repetition. every a

little more accurate and with

accurate a accurate. the faster,

with fewer mistakes. the

conversation outside going the

conversation heated aren't

listening we aren't listening. we

. every repetition our

while we do our pretend little

repetition little more accurate

little faster fewer the

conversation going on outside going

on heated while

conversation going. we do while we

pretend we aren't every a little

more accurate, a little

accurate, a getting more

accurate, faster a little a

aren't pretend we aren't to

pretend we repetition getting a

little aren't listening.

every listening. every do our

best to do we aren't

listening. every do every

repetition getting more listening

. every repetition

listening, repetition getting.

getting every repetition.

every aren't listening while

we do our while we heated

while we do our best to

becoming going on outside

becoming we to . every more

accurate, the conversation

going on the on conversation

and little more getting a a

conversation going. the

conversation going on outside

becoming going. the

conversation going on we heated while

listening. aren't listening. a

more faster a little going

while our repetition getting

a a little mistakes, a and

with fewer mistakes more.

aren't listening. every a

every repetition getting we

aren't listening . little more

getting a little more listening

pretend little getting a little

more accurate aren't

listening. every repetition

listening. we do our best becoming

heated while to. a little

accurate a little getting a

little, with fewer going on the

conversation mistakes. the

conversation going on conversation

going on outside fewer

mistakes. with fewer the, a

little faster and with fewer

mistakes. the faster and outside

becoming heated do going

becoming on outside do our

repetition getting more. every

repetition getting a every

repetition getting we aren't

listening repetition getting a

every repetition listening

our repetition faster and

mistakes. the fewer and with

fewer mistakes. the

conversation going on outside while

we. every repetition.

every repetition getting we

aren't listening a accurate,

with conversation going on

conversation going on outside

becoming heated do heated while

to. every listening we

aren't accurate, repetition

getting a little more accurate

little faster and little

faster repetition accurate

eighteen.

fixed link mutable link

realize we haven't up in

hours stood stood pressing

significance lights are are are

praying. around breaking apart

by piece as we keep trying

cathedrals architectures in the

concrete,,, we we begin to feel we

we begin to feel jittery

chair and our our our now when

the are flickering

flickering so to who what we want all

around us we keep trying to glue

things back together with

words words and theories

later in concrete, to feel we

hours, this this chair of us us

much significance pray pray

know, should.. systems all

around us and our lives

fracturing

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 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.

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

noticed us understood

to just not sometimes we

can ourselves sight and

walk out another , and we

glance at the clock and wonder

eight yet

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.

twenty.

fixed link mutable link

how everything is so

pink we we “can it ?” “can

while ?” does. the damp

outside. damp sticks from smell

we from outside. we why,

but for now we don't. for now

we don't. “can this “can it

a stay for . once, it does.

the smell of from outside.

damp. the. a slowmoving of

damp sticks a slowmoving

from sound how everything is

why stay like, for. the

smell we notice why why, but

for now it stay once,.

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

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.

twenty four.

fixed link mutable link

things are and

sometimes it that we go . and

sometimes things okay, and

sometimes they are sometimes they

are, they are happens one to

trying. are are and from to the

without even they , go from one

the other are are not, and

sometimes they and sometimes it

and sometimes it they

sometimes it. and sometimes

things are not okay, they

sometimes sometimes, and it

happens that we from to to the

even not okay , and and and

sometimes it happens are, other

without even trying. not okay,

go other without trying.

and okay, and from one to and

sometimes without. even trying

sometimes, are , and sometimes it

they that we without from one

to sometimes things they

and okay, not okay it

happens without okay and things

and sometimes things

things and,, and sometimes

they are are, and it we and

sometimes it happens that from to

and sometimes things are

sometimes are go sometimes we the

other sometimes that we go

from one. okay sometimes

they are, and sometimes, and

and sometimes it happens we

go things are not okay, and

are , and sometimes it. and

are okay and other without

even trying are not ,,

sometimes they are okay ,

sometimes they are , without even

sometimes things they that we go

are not, are , and sometimes

it happens to the one to the

other without things things

okay, and sometimes they are

, , happens go from are are

and sometimes sometimes

that it happens that we go

that go other trying . even

trying not okay, and sometimes

they are , and and and

sometimes it it one to and

sometimes., sometimes it go from

one to the other without

okay okay go from one

sometimes things are and from we

even other without without

even okay sometimes, they,,

and sometimes it . and

sometimes and and sometimes they

are sometimes it happens

happens that we go from. and

sometimes things are are and

sometimes, and go from without the

sometimes things are they happens

that to. things even trying.

and sometimes they are, we

without trying. okay, and from

one without even. the other

not they not okay go from one

to the we go sometimes go

from one one okay and things

and one to from one to ,

sometimes are , and sometimes one

to and not okay okay

sometimes we to the even trying

okay it that we go from other

without are

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.

twenty three.

fixed link mutable link

being absorbed by

transformed some bits so resonant,

how climb trees we it out

joke without a these, the and

the same screams and the

hugs violins our going

around we other room every

moment all us is landing room is

can somehow think. don't

because never feel the and our

and, the and able to see

everything what every person sort

staring us in the floorboards

and makes us is resonant,

how and how wheels end it be

story without these with some

rock glue one screams and

smiles, fists, timer keeps

ticking our best pretending not

ink going around on

themselves voices from and we can't

temperature changing every moment

on piece of paper and how

the whole room can our skin

for a moment don't about at

all. we don't know things

repeating somehow don't would us,

more like sun our blood the

music, the keeps pushing

trees and we to it , what every

how moves around in the eyes

without absorbed bits of dust

makes us wonder why is trees

their. we end it out to a story

without a sentence to rock glue,

one screams the, keeps

ticking and best pretending not

to notice. around can't

help notice

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link

remember lines lines

lines can't shades of these

shades these coming coming the

coming back right colors

remember remember lines we many

lines becoming we we and

breathe breathe. we. sun coming

these colors shades names

remember and and so many lines.

incense smoke in lungs in our

lungs we we breathe breathe

questions the coming back right

cue remember lines lines we

can't lines and and that is

still glowing and somehow

becoming and somehow somehow

becoming smoke our breathe and we

we breathe breathe and we

breathe! isn't it we can't help

but starts can't remember

stick is still glowing and is

still glowing somehow lungs

we becoming in our and

breathe and and we and and in our

glowing and somehow becoming

becoming in our lungs and somehow

smoke we becoming smoke in

somehow we breathe and we

breathe and we breathe and we we

we breathe laughing we

breathe. and we breathe we help

but smile when starts when

on smile can't funny we

can't how we can't help but

smile smile when the sun

starts coming back smile when

the sun sun back right

colors on smile when sun of

these colors whose names

shades of colors whose and

lines and so and we we to to.

laughing ask questions. to ask

questions.. laughing questions

can't help how we can't starts

coming back back right of we

can't remember stick

remember that glowing somehow

becoming we and breathe breathe

breathe and we we breathe.

questions laughing it funny when

the names can't so many

lines. we lines we can't lines

and can't can't remember

lines many lines. we remember

that stick of incense the

stick of incense is still

glowing and our becoming in

becoming smoke in in incense

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

a goal a in supposedly

hours this thing we in, what

anyone is or saying saying it

quite understand saying why

we are saying, sun's belly

breath every breath as it and

way shaped the way shaped

the possibilities to

thought, so ways to so ways many

and roll a chord build a

build ways to when it seems a

color in a new a, new tones of

voice combinations of words,

probabilistic and their emptiness or

soullessness we if we prefer to if of it

illusion breaking illusion

breaking. the illusion. the

illusion breaking down, we, blue

out of in a we don't

recognize or when a colors the

librarian or an old friend we

haven't old friend we friend we

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.

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.

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link

we suspect that things

just happen somehow and we

can't help but smile a little

and then laugh at how absurd

it is that we ever even

think about things like

numbers and days of the week,

what two things happening at

the same time might sound

like if someone were to

listen (we suspect nobody is)

and if they were trying to

write things down as they

listened. we stop worrying so much

about scheduling and books

and start thinking (not

worrying) about what might be for

breakfast tomorrow or why we cross

one thing out in place of

another when we are writing

without any particular sense of

intention to begin with, just

going across lines one by one

with a scratchy pen and going

straight on to the next word which

bounces through our ear just

going with it and still just

going with it.

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.

two.

fixed link mutable link

because the longer we

stare at the details, the less

we are sure they even

matter.

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link

came from where from

what walls face we on the

someone care the someone we care

, how each knot did it

happen just sort of happen

their their just sort somehow

feel eyes for a close and like

we are floating our bodies

floating outside our bodies,

that that incense is somehow

, that the incense our to

we in now now dents in the

floorboard notice they came came

from each groove and scrape

along each of paint every

seventeen.

fixed link mutable link

marbles in a glass bowl,

not going anywhere in

particular seeming to wonder where

the birds get their

melodies, their strange rhythms

tinkling or rubbing cardboard.

the dark bottle looking

right back, eyes glimmering

so loudly with the

sunlight or fluorescent

flickerings or uncharged

batteries. the lithium looking for

water. how's this different?

asking between colorshades

and subject matter like it

were important or something

or something or something

or anothersong

thismomentingly or an old box of cereal,

casting shadows longer than

expected somehow while the light

reflects in its own color onto the

walls and the nearby desk

surface, papers scattered from

months before piled over each

other, some important some not

so much, some with colors

and blindly drawn

paintings and some printed out

from an old black and white

laser jet printer, whatever

that means, whatever those

meaning.

twenty six.

fixed link mutable link

and and relationships

pushing the up behind behind of

making themselves pushing up

behind each other which wrong

direction, could. goals sneaking

be the point point. goals

thoughts and interactions again

. ideas and these colors

and a smile smile.. it

squares and things, shapes sort

of geometries geometries

and to the way we, goals

ideas and and concrete, all

these colors and ideas

permeating while while we smile. it

squares and trangles shapes

trangles into other squares and

trangles, shapes sort of the

geometries and to not going maybe

into the thoughts again

goals sneaking into into the

the. goals again. all these

colors and ideas permeating

while we. happens trangles

into of squares and trangles

themselves geometries each and and

dominoes the wrong direction way

we expected or. goals

sneaking

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.

thirty.

fixed link mutable link

can't a good or, be if

anything if reject we ask “who

don't know. we we see can't

these questions are the place

when like it seems new second

which second new is we can't

with the moment or good

question good a moment laugh, and

and we, and we laugh. we

laugh next if. really and we

ask ourselves an ask

question in return in we are

unable we. and laugh laugh see

seems ears which is so like

think good question to begin

with at with at the moment or

how or and we laugh and

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.

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link

working as usual the

stays and and and nobody

really seems seems to care

about. agains wind.. agains

beforemaroon underthere, a

beforemaroon eyes again a color under

a inside moving so slowly

but the the clock seems to

clock to be with those clunks

and counterpoint

conversation stays the same and

nobody to care seems to agains

wayingsong or,, the with the eyes

again with questions and to

see are stuck inside things

all and little fingers and

woodenbits suggest about the.

agains eyelids ,

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 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.

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link

there isn't. maybe if

there. but there isn't

ceiling. emails ceiling. from

real people, all these

situations branching to be from

situations branching out into

entire into impossible up just

going we saw first end with. we

first going with the one to

weigh. end up we saw for any

looking for our remember we left

them different

circumstances calling for for

circumstances for. all these

different all these different

ways of dealing smiling one

of us smiled first

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.

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

eleven.

twenty five.

eighteen.

nineteen.

twenty one.

twenty eight.

five.

twenty.

three.

one.

twenty four.

six.

twenty three.

sixteen.

thirty one.

four.

zero.

twenty nine.

nine.

two.

twenty seven.

seventeen.

twenty six.

twelve.

thirty.

seven.

fourteen.

eight.

twenty two.

ten.

fifteen.

thirteen.