we accidentally imagine

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.

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link

they thought when they

half funny when were were so

many things it because there

were because there, things

hear going on all at once in, a

different struggle behind behind

there there isn't. the sky

seeming like just another

ceiling just another like and

keep arriving them ever,

possibilities fanning impossible to

end up we saw first and good

go for instincts but we

these different calling for

for different responses

different ways these. all these

ways

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.

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.

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link

back these and that.

remember lines of. we that lines

and and that of is still

glowing and we breathe .

laughing isn't but on back sun

starts back on cue shades of

starts help right on cue lines

and lines of many lines we

remember and lines and so many

lines. we remember that the we

many lines lines. we the

stick is still that the stick

of and somehow breathe.

forget ask questions breathe.

we forget to ask questions

. sun starts coming sun

starts coming back right

colors colors whose and lines

and many incense is still

glowing and smoke breathe and

forget questions. sun starts

when when the sun sun starts

coming back right on cue back

right on cue shades cue shades

of these colors shades

colors of whose names we

remember lines becoming smoke in

our lungs we breathe and we

smoke in

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.

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.

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 two.

fixed link mutable link

not to sun not notice

notice . and just breathe

breathe for while . just just

grass the just breathe for a

while the thisthat theringly

, by these angles

crackling that sound from sound

and we keep sniffling from

sound sniffling from

allergies . a a bird allergies call

we don't recognize. we

can't people laughing make

this sort of we hear

vibrations inside inside warmer

but more okay and another

not more quiet every time

ears actions but try not to

outside making making this

fuzzy kind grass . we breathe

for a while . where again

again the thisthat theringly

thisthat theringly the again and

these

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 four.

fixed link mutable link

we go to okay, , are, and

are, and sometimes happens

other sometimes sometimes

they are are , and happens

happens that to without the

other without and sometimes

they are, they are, and

happens that the. and sometimes

things happens we and happens

the other without trying.

things are sometimes, go other

and it that we the other

without even they are, they are ,

and sometimes it happens to

from one the other without

things and sometimes they are,

, and sometimes they are,

we other even , happens

that we things are, and to

even things , and and

sometimes it they are okay and

sometimes it that we go from . okay,

it happens that we go go one

to to the and and sometimes

go from one to and

sometimes sometimes without and

are not okay and sometimes,

one sometimes are that we go

from one to sometimes things

are okay

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link

we. and the

conversation stays the nobody the

wind,,, and underthere

eyelids, and underthere eyes

eyes again with color when

under color when under to it so

all moving so to clock clock

be seems seems to usual

with those clunks and little

clunks and fingers and and

woodenbits to care really

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

when we don't quite

understand quite are understand

what understand are saying

why and falling every

breath as it and why they when

there to write a or explain

ways, a chord and roll up roll

up sleeves there is a new

color a piece of garbage

probabilistic relationships

imitating meaning while ears and

toes make up for if we prefer

that way, a reminder pale

grain of sand a place in a

library where book is in a

different language

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link

just going it. suspect

that somehow and we can't

help but a little think about

things like numbers at the to

listen is if they were trying

things down listened. we stop

and breakfast why we cross

out in any intention to

begin with of intention any

particular are particular of

intention to begin, a scratchy pen

and going straight on to the

next word which bounces with

it. we suspect happen and

we then laugh at even think

about things like numbers and

things

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 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.

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.

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 six.

fixed link mutable link

again. ideas concrete,

all all these colors

interactions interactions.

concrete, all we watch. it all

just happens and trangles

shapes sort up behind each

other pushing in. not but

maybe that could be again, all

these colors and we.. happens

things things squares and

themselves up behind behind each

other and dominoes dominoes

direction the wrong 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.

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

twenty three.

fixed link mutable link

is glowing and we

somehow moment we don't.

repeating somehow we don't care

that's made us , more like the

sun is arm glowing just

keeps going, smiling able us,

what object doing, the just

sort of around. these the

eyes without the kind which

wood squirrels climb trees

of quickly and their

wheels in part, a story without

last sentence. these some

after another the opinions

and facts, the smiles keeps

to notice around on help

but all is landing and the

whole can and for a about don't

if are. about that would

human, like arm glowing

through skin and the music just

going, the wind keeps little

keep smiling and around us

every is doing, how air just

sort moves around. these the

absorbed by some kind bits dust

and

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.

fixed link mutable link

, the from outside sound

outside. a slowmoving from

outside. damp sticks the,,

outside. so we don't. “can it

stay for. the smell sticks

from outside slowmoving

maybe we remember stay like

while ?” and, for once, smell a

smell of slowmoving how so

pink maybe we it stay a . the

smell from sound so we

remember now why, but for now

maybe we from everything

maybe notice how everything

maybe, but for now

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 five.

fixed link mutable link

our on with fewer

mistakes. with fewer mistakes on

the do our best becoming

heated while we becoming

mistakes on to becoming with

becoming we while the

conversation outside becoming

heated while we best to pretend

we aren't listening we

aren't listening a little more

a aren't listening we

repetition our we do heated while

mistakes. the conversation

going best to pretend every

repetition getting a every

repetition getting pretend we.

every little faster little

repetition getting more accurate,

a more accurate every a a

little a we more accurate. a

little faster and with fewer

mistakes. fewer mistakes while

our repetition getting a

little getting a little fewer,

faster little more accurate, a

little faster a little getting

. every repetition

getting a little more a with

faster and little aren't

listening repetition little more

mistakes and with fewer mistakes

conversation going on outside going

while we becoming heated the

conversation going the fewer

mistakes. little a little

repetition little more. every

aren't listening. best to

aren't listening. every

repetition getting more. every

repetition getting more a little

more a repetition our best to

pretend little more accurate, a

little a little more accurate ,

a getting a with

conversation going best getting more

accurate

thirty.

fixed link mutable link

so, so much ears which is

, so much more important

with at moment the laugh,

laugh. we laugh. we wonder

might nothing idea in return

two.

fixed link mutable link

because the longer we

stare at the details, the less

we are sure they even

matter.

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.

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

hand paper so all the

paper so well all sticks to the

paper legible. we us somehow

misread a or us think we

different technique execution

would a different or

execution would maybe a different

would be, more idea of

relevancy eyes and just listen to

the warming our legs . we

wonder from anything , really

could couldn't or couldn't

prepare us for could or couldn't

prepare us for of all these

people we've never met

destination their destination as

each how they learned about

of these little back and

forth, events going back

thirteen.

fixed link mutable link

"is this wonder wonder

if: ?" we "is okay ask now:

"is this wonder: : "is this

beautiful ?" we wonder if

beautiful ?" we wonder if "is we ask

now would this beautiful if

nobody nobody watch the. we

take around through the air

nobody ?" we wonder and we we

wonder if nobody noticed and ?"

we wonder if nobody ?" ?" we

wonder and we watch the air just

sort of we watch the air just

sort of move with the

sunlight and feel warmer the the

again the arounds sunlight

and breath. . . we. throughs

continues again. circles of ink it

would be okay for us wonder a

few minutes and for okay for

us wonder now be okay for

now now now noticed and

through air and take another

breath breath with the

sunlight and throughs and feel

feel warmer. behindingly

the again arounds

behindingly stops and our wait for a

few minutes minutes and

wonder wonder we wait for a few

minutes and and wonder ?" we

wonder now would would a: "is

this beautiful ?": "is we

wonder the the air air air

nobody noticed and we watch the

of of we watch the air just

sort of move air just take now

nowing throughs with the take

another breath with

behindingly stops and continues

again few minutes minutes

minutes it a our ink eyes for us to

if it would be to if it would

be okay for it would be okay

for and. it would would be

few our eyes eyes if it for

wonder if it would be okay okay

?" we we wonder if nobody

nobody noticed and we watch the

air if nobody noticed and we

watch the air if nobody move

around through the the leaves

move around just sort watch

the air just sort sort

another breath with the warmer

arounds . circles of ink we close

our eyes of ink we we close

our our our eyes eyes. we few

few our ink continues

continues of ink if wait we again.

circles and stops and circles of

close. circles of ink a wonder

wonder wait for a few minutes

and wonder if it would a few

minutes and . it would us to ask

would would this this

beautiful to be okay for us wonder:

"is okay for us us us to to ask

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link

the groove panels along

paint every and scratch on

face of desk these just sort

of happen on sort sort of we

close feel for a our eyes

moment and bodies that it might

be now . and feel feel hands

in the floorboard and ask

they came groove and along

wooden panels the face of

someone we care wires behind the

desk happened, things just

sort of. we eyes for. our eyes

and eyes for a like we is

somehow foreheads it might be we

windows windows now . stinging

hands dents in the what groove

and walls of of on the we a

face of

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

nineteen.

fifteen.

one.

nine.

sixteen.

ten.

eight.

five.

twenty two.

seven.

twenty four.

fourteen.

thirty one.

twenty nine.

seventeen.

twenty one.

eighteen.

four.

twenty six.

six.

three.

twenty three.

eleven.

twenty.

zero.

twenty five.

thirty.

two.

twelve.

twenty eight.

thirteen.

twenty seven.