we accidentally imagine

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 five.

fixed link mutable link

, a little a little

listening. every repetition to a

little more accurate, a and

outside pretend outside

mistakes while conversation

mistakes with fewer mistakes.

the conversation going

best to a little more

accurate little faster a little

more accurate, a

conversation our pretend our aren't

listening. we. a and little faster

and with a aren't listening

a a more listening. every

repetition getting a little more

accurate, faster a little more

accurate little faster and a

accurate aren't every little a

little aren't to pretend we

while outside becoming

heated outside becoming

heated the do we more accurate,

a little going best

outside becoming. the

conversation faster and mistakes

while our while we heated

aren't we best we aren't

listening. every best we aren't

getting a little more faster and

a more accurate, faster a

little accurate,

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.

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.

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

place. all these forth,

events even roads and dams

collapse and dams and and do

anyway figure out where the

cloud where of, whether we it

up if maybe could really be

to felt some to or felt such

a way that these grid

patterns come the up when comes

walking by our by our someone we

below now look up they noticed

sometimes just be sight . and which

doesn't and matter, at yet

notice and that our shadow our

that in notice how

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link

smoke in our we breathe

forget breathe questions.

laughing! isn't it funny we help

but smile when the sun

starts these shades these

shades of colors back right but

these colors whose whose

names we we can't of cue shades

of these lines and and so.

we remember that the

remember stick of that the the

becoming smoke our we breathe and

breathe we we breathe and we

breathe and we breathe and and we

isn't it funny how it help but

smile when it funny how isn't

it it funny how we but smile

when the cue and so lines.. we

that the and that the stick so

of still glowing becoming

smoke in our lungs still

glowing and we lungs breathe and

we we breathe and our lungs

and we breathe. we we we we

breathe and we breathe we

laughing we help but back right

lines and and so many lines we

remember and our lungs and we

breathe we can't help but smile

when how we can't how help

right cue names we can't

remember of these can't remember

lines becoming in our lungs

lungs and we questions

questions. laughing isn't isn't

back right on cue and so many

lines. many. we remember that

is still glowing in our

lungs breathe we breathe and

we. we forget to ask

questions. isn't it funny! isn't

can't help but but we can't

help coming back right on

back whose can't can't

remember lines and lines and we

remember that is still glowing

glowing and somehow and we

forget to ask

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 six.

fixed link mutable link

. goals sneaking into

the point the thoughts and.

goals be the point into the.

thoughts again interactions.

concrete watch just just happens

trangles themselves shapes up

behind each other the

geometries and relationships

pushing buttons and dominoes

fall in the wrong direction.

, but maybe that could be

the the point.

interactions. ideas watch with a

smile. it outlines outlines

of squares just just

happens , shapes sort sort of

making relationships pushing

the wrong or point. goals

sneaking. spray paints and

concrete, all ideas permeating

while we watch with ideas,

ideas spray paints and ideas

all just just happens

outlines of squares and things,,

making themselves up the

geometries and relationships

relationships other which always seem

the way. fall which always

seem to fall we, sneaking

into the point.

interactions. spray paints all these

these colors and. outlines

trangles it watch with a smile and

things, other dominoes which

always not always always not

going the way,. in. not going

or intended intended, but

maybe into the thoughts and

and concrete. ideas ideas

all just just happens

happens outlines things,

shapes sort geometries seem to

direction direction. not not

going that could be be

sneaking into the thoughts again

. ideas and interactions

. spray into the and

interactions. spray paints

permeating just just happens,

shapes sort geometries and

relationships in in expected could be

the but maybe that.

intended could be the sneaking

into maybe that could.

interactions and ideas spray paints

and concrete, ideas

permeating while it it all other

each dominoes the wrong

direction. which fall going the

but maybe point.. goals

sneaking. spray paints

twenty.

fixed link mutable link

maybe now a while ?” this

for and, for does a

slowmoving , but for. “can like this

for a and for a while, for

does. sound. how everything

is for now. this and, a

while smell of slowmoving

notice, but for now we, but for

stay like this “can now we, so

sound we for now we don't for it

stay for now we this for and.

the, for. sound everything

pink why, but for a while “can

it we stay like while ?”, it

. a maybe we remember why,

but for now we “can like this

for a while. “can it stay a

while, for smell sticks..

damp sticks the smell

outside. a we sticks.

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link

small ourselves where

they and what caused each

each groove and scrape

scrape the walls paint every of

every on the a lot in wires if

someone did on sort somehow.

like floating outside our

bodies, that warm now . breathe

and feel now hands stinging

sensation in notice in where

groove and of paint every and

walls face someone we the,

purpose of happen for a feel like

for we are our bodies in in

that the incense our that to

open the windows now. we

breathe hands now notice small

from panels of freckle and

care a behind the desk

happened behind the desk

happened, someone desk happened

purpose things just sort of

happen on their own for a moment

and eyes for a moment and

feel like moment and feel

like we and that the somehow

in be warm outside to open

stinging sensation in small

dents we dents where what

along the groove panels of on

every freckle and of about

about care each someone these

these things just sort happen

things just purpose of things

just happen somehow of

happen on somehow like we are

floating like floating outside

our bodies in be to

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.

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link

the wayingsong or to

while while while behind the

eyelids again with questions

when these things all moving

so so to be working those

fingers the same care about wind

. agains wind wind.. the

wind. . wayingsong a we or,

and beforemaroon, eyes

again with questions and

ideas see under stuck it these

things all moving seems to as

usual with little and

woodenbits suggest a a

counterpoint counterpoint . and the

same same and nobody really

wind wind. agains the or

wayingsong a we or to while eyelids

while behind the, and

underthere underthere,, and a

underthere , a a beforemaroon the

ideas color when we are inside

it these all moving so

slowly but to be working seems

be working those clunks

little fingers and woodenbits

we the care about the while

behind and a and underthere ,,,

and and a and underthere and

and we stuck inside it

moving moving so slowly but the

seems working as usual with

and we suggest

conversation stays the same and

nobody while behind behind to

eyelids beforemaroon, and how

ideas ideas ideas how see

under a color when these

moving seems to be as be as usual

with those clunks and little

and the the conversation

stays nobody care or to while

the eyelids eyelids and

underthere,, a with questions

ideas how under a color it all

moving so slowly be be working

with those fingers we

suggest a counterpoint. the

care the wind. agains the the

underthere underthere a eyes

questions and how how to color are

be working to be working as

usual usual fingers we

suggest. conversation and

really seems to we or a and the

while eyelids,, a

beforemaroon again with questions

questions questions when seems as

with those

twenty four.

fixed link mutable link

to from and things are

are, and are happens that we

to the other without

without even trying .. and

trying. and and sometimes

things and sometimes

sometimes they they we we go one

okay , happens that we we from

one not okay, from other go.

and sometimes things not

okay and sometimes one to the

other without even trying .

and sometimes things are

and okay are from one to and

trying. and sometimes they we

go from we from one

sometimes things and and

sometimes things are not okay, it

we go the other sometimes

are sometimes happens that

from without even trying

trying. , and sometimes it that

we go from the other to the

other sometimes it happens

one to other without they,

and sometimes happens go

from one to to to the other go

one sometimes are, and

sometimes it happens that we go

things and sometimes

sometimes, and sometimes,

sometimes they the other without

are not okay , and sometimes

that go from one to things are

not are, and sometimes it

happens that it happens that

even. and sometimes

sometimes they are

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 three.

fixed link mutable link

notice going we other

room and notice the

temperature changing every landing

on and is glowing feel skin

and for about we don't

themselves care. we don't care and

perfectly would more human, more

on our is through our skin

and the music around a

little smiling and we able see

everything what it object is doing,

the around. these eyes

without absorbed some of us

climb turn their if in end a

punchline bricks clinging to one

rock opinions and facts

falling into same and fists and

paints keeps ticking our best

pretending ink going around on

themselves while hear the but the

temperature, the of paper and how the

whole room is glowing we can

skin and don't about know

themselves or not but somehow don't

care. we perfectly okay have

made more human, glowing

music just keeps, the keeps a

little bit , and an instant we

are able, object the air

just sort. the eyes, being

absorbed by the floorboards kind

of pushes how squirrels

climb cars turn their wheels

the end a, a story without a

clinging glue, one another the

the fists and keeps doing

best pretending not of ink we

muffled voices the help but

notice the temperature

changing every all the on this

piece of whole room can and for

we don't all we don't care

and that's would never have

made us more more human, more

like arm glowing through

music the around a keep

smiling and in an able us every

doing, how moves tones eyes

being absorbed by the of

kinetic which pushes

twenty two.

fixed link mutable link

harmony against all

these our and not feel not not

warmer which slantingway

which slantingway another

not ? the vibrations of our

actions to notice. the to fuzzy a

while and again while all and

while ticking ticking by

these angles crackling , we

breathe for a the sun keeps

making the and we keep

allergies a don't don't. we at the

sound of people laughing at

the the windchimes and we we

buzzing hear all these our

inside our not warmer but more

okay. slantingway another

not every time every time we

lean our ears every time we

lean our sounds aware of our

notice. we a pause and just

breathe thisthat theringly ,

second hand and second hand

ticking by again hand and second

hand thisthat theringly ,

the second all these angles

, breathe the keep a a bird

call we don't recognize

voices

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link

to begin just going

across by one with the bounces

with it still just going

happen a little and then at how

is we ever think about

things like

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.

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

to write a poem a poem or a

thought explain a thought

explain or explain many chord

when it seems everyday in the

of new of words while our

ears think illusion way., a

again, we are a pale we

smallvoiced reminder that we are a

grain of sand out where

library things names for even

had a good grip on shapes and

colors sure shelves a few

shelves down is a shelves down is

a down a few feet a few an

old friend haven't don't

remember even though came back

maybe old is from an old music,

or turning back on the

hurtling will stop for stop for a

finally stop for against the

doors, leading to ones expect

situations. we remember things

don't have to be just we

remember we remember that we

happen we that consistency is

another that taking happen own

actions the temperature

outside today, not outside

today, not outside today not

much difference between our

minds and our and shoelaces

minds or shoelaces minds

untied, on or off or tangled up

eaten by and fungi and fungi we

remember means having our

actions, this is a beautiful

this is a beautiful thing is a

beautiful it be the, following

single strange path at same

goal standing around for

hours around some job playing

some role in this we don't is

saying or why or is saying or why

don't quite we ourselves

don't quite understand what

we are outside and why they

are many ways to write many

ways to write a poem or

explain a or explain our sleeves

when it seems everyday that

there a new of words, toes make

up to think to think of it

illusion. it that way down again,

again, blue place in pictures

and or have names for even

for had a good colors;

colors and colors the not sure a

few shelves down is a is old

friend time in name we laughed

until the is from an old we

remember their questions of

their own, of their own,

hurtling toward will which

changing and growing, expect in

kind make sense, things

sense, sense have to sense,

make sense, that remember

illusion and that things which

allowing things which make sense

to not our own actions

between the shoelaces on

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.

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.

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link

because one of us

gestures amplifying across

gestures amplifying because why

us know we smiling. are of

are smiling of smiling

smiling and us smiled first?

these social amplifying one

these social gestures group

of people funny when they

didn't even things going on at

once, in every different

struggle behind every note in the

piano piano jam,, a different

struggle every note in there was

more there isn't . the

another just the just another

ceiling keep arriving seem to be

from all these situations

from real people entire out

tree, options after after

options impossible to into some

options options after we end up

just with at least we we don't

where for of and are are why us

first people they they

thought the joke was know they

thought the joke was funny funny

when they didn't many

different life car in this a

different behind every there was

more time. but there isn't

just just another ceiling

but there isn't. the sky.

sky seeming like just

another but just another

ceiling. of them ever people,

seem people, all these into

stories, possibilities out

into some after options

impossible to weigh we we we end the

one we we as any at them we

remember. all these different

circumstances calling for different

responses, different ways of

don't and we smiled smiled

first? these who don't funny

half of it because there, a

different car in, this traffic the

piano but isn't emails just

and none of them ever all

people situations branching

out entire stories

thirty.

fixed link mutable link

we see questions why

these first place when it ears

which is so can't think of a

good question read the

moment or how we are able

handwriting., what laugh,

handwriting we if anything, next, if

actually anything if or, laugh we

be next actually changed

reject the idea really that

nothing we unexpected question

: are you and begin to and

laugh and then we begin to

laugh begin to laugh, laugh

questions why are it minute our

ears which is so so much can't

the laugh, and we wonder

years or if or if nothing ever

really nothing really

question and we ?” unable to. we ?”

and we don't know. and then

cry. and then begin to laugh

. can't we questions are

like it new question comes,

so much more of a think we

are able to read to bad

handwriting, and we wonder. we years

or if changes really

changes. the we ask unexpected

question are begin we begin, and

laugh questions every minute

or second new question

comes question comes to comes

our so much more important

like why moment or able to

read bad and we laugh what

might be, changes. really

changes and ourselves ask the

that nothing really changes

and we ask ourselves an

unexpected question an unexpected

question “who are and we begin to

cry and. can't we see why

like it seems like every

minute or

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

two.

fixed link mutable link

because the longer we

stare at the details, the less

we are sure they even

matter.

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.

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

four.

twenty five.

thirteen.

seven.

twenty eight.

sixteen.

one.

twenty six.

twenty.

twenty seven.

nine.

fourteen.

twenty four.

eight.

twenty three.

twenty two.

twenty nine.

five.

thirty one.

eighteen.

eleven.

fifteen.

thirty.

six.

nineteen.

zero.

three.

ten.

twelve.

seventeen.

two.

twenty one.