it is 2024. we wonder what to say next, and the wind is still blowing.

two.

fixed link mutable link
because the longer we
stare at the details, the less
we are sure they even
matter.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 four.

fixed link mutable link
one one to the other are
not sometimes and
sometimes we trying and and
sometimes it we even even okay we
from we one the without even
even trying, sometimes to
okay go sometimes to things
not, and sometimes they
that to the the. and
sometimes and they and are other
without they are, and from one to
the we go sometimes it it we
and sometimes sometimes it
happens other without even even
trying.. sometimes things and
sometimes things are not and
sometimes

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

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.

twenty five.

fixed link mutable link
we aren't listening.
every repetition. every
little a a repetition getting a
we aren't every aren't
getting a every a little fewer
mistakes . going on to a little
more accurate, more
accurate, a conversation going
on outside becoming
heated. the faster. a more

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link
, the wooden they when
there, so, so, so a write a,
build chord and roll up our
sleeves roll up sleeves when it
on our desks. different
combinations relationships
imitating meaning while for if we
prefer illusion breaking down
again, are a pale blue every
book is are or have recognize
or recognize or have names
had shapes on shapes and
shapes on shapes and colors if
the shuffling feet seen
whose a long time whose a long
until sun came an sound is an
old phone left the
ventilation fans turning remember
that wondering stop for stop
for a minute which whyhow
and leading to ones leading
situations where things where
things might make sense have
that things can left is
another taking even make which
don't make sense to happen
between temperature actions
and our own actions and the
temperature outside today, so much
between tied or untied, on or in a
trashbag somewhere near
trashbag somewhere near
somewhere fungi the over
ourselves over and, and that this
is this is and actions our
actions, and that this, and that
this is a beautiful is this is
is this thing. a beautiful
thing thing is beautiful
thing and that's okay watch
pollen drift to drift to a
single green speck in its with
separate, completely separate
at somewhere with hours
around for hours standing
doing we society understand
what understand what anyone
is what don't quite or why
they ourselves don't saying
ourselves are are saying it
outside, the belly sun's belly
still rising falling
cabinets and about wooden thinks
it thinks about wooden
cabinets and why they cabinets
and why are shaped the way
are shaped the they so many,
so seems everyday that
there seems that there is
tones of voice combinations
of and imitating meaning
while up for their emptiness
their emptiness think of it
that a smallvoiced again,
are a pale blue dot, a grain
of a grain place a
different language a different
pictures we had colors;

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link
stick of incense the of
is still glowing and still
glowing and is is remember that
the stick of incense is
still incense glowing and
breathe and we we we we forget

twenty.

fixed link mutable link
smell we notice
slowmoving sound outside. damp
sticks from outside so pink
maybe we we stay like this for a
while ?” and stay like this we
while the damp sound. pink ,
but for now , now it this for,
stay like ?” this for a. “can
like this we don't. “can now
we don't and , for once for
?” this ?” smell it does
smell of damp outside. a. we
notice how pink we remember how
everything is why, but pink for now
we ?” and, damp once this
“can like this and for a for
once, it of. a the smell it
does . sticks from
everything is so we “can for a for
once this for once, it does
from sound everything
remember why, but. this for a. the
, for. the and for a while,
like now we don't. “can now we
this and of from outside
sound. we from outside. a
slowmoving we notice how
everything is why, now why, but for
now “can for once, it does.
the sticks slowmoving
sound. we notice outside
slowmoving maybe why stay like this
for a stay,. the smell a we
notice how everything is so
pink we ?” and, for like this
for a while ?” this it sticks
from outside sound.
remember why, don't we remember
but for for now we don't but
for don't stay like, like
for for and ,, it does while
?” and, it does . and it does
from outside. a sticks from a
slowmoving sound. we a we notice
pink remember why , “can
while ?” and it a slowmoving
maybe we remember don't stay
like ?”

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link
sort their of of own
somehow feel incense is might
warm open now to windows now.
we breathe and this this
stinging sensation in this
stinging now we notice small
dents they each groove panels
on how how each in the wires
behind knot, the happened if
someone did it on close our eyes
for a moment moment eyes
like we that might foreheads
the feel this dents in the
they and scrape paint every a
someone we care the the lot
someone we care face care a lot
about, how the wires desk
happened happened of just happen
their of eyes somehow . we we
somehow in that open the windows
windows now.. we and feel
sensation in now dents in the
floorboard and ask ourselves where
where they groove the wooden
scratch the someone, how,
behind the desk, purpose of
things just sort of these
things sort these a moment
floating outside our foreheads,
, that windows our in the
what caused each groove from
panels and

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 two.

fixed link mutable link
against the the second
again while all by again and
again while again while all
these while longer we we all
sun keeps call we allergies
. at and sort harmony
against the and we all these
acoustic these acoustic
vibrations we and these acoustic
vibrations okay. more okay thing
not? not one thing our ears
closer trying sounds. we are to
notice . and just breathe just
for we breathe pause pause
for and. where again again
again the thisthat thisthat
theringly. again , ticking the
second hand ticking a while
breathe a while longer keeps sun
we don't recognize help
but smile at of harmony hear
these acoustic vibrations
buzzing inside our our chests
and making feel not warmer
more okay. slantingway work
and another not not inside
we are are aware but try not
to notice this kind of. we
pause and just we for a
thisthat theringly hand ticking
by again and again again
again while all all by ticking
by again , while all these
for a a while longer that
that don't recognize. we
voices make laughing and
somehow people smile at sound
sound make sort this sort
buzzing inside our okay. which
slantingway or making one or not ?
hear to fuzzy kind grass we
second hand for a while longer
and the and a bird call we
don't but people smile but and
this buzzing not warmer but
more okay. more okay. okay
okay. which vibrations lean
to we are aware the sounds.
try not to notice grass .
just we we breathe for and
just breathe for a while .
theringly we while longer the that
sound the and the sun keeps
making that from seasonal
seasonal allergies sniffling
from don't recognize . we
call we we can't sound of
people and laughing and
somehow people laughing and
laughing and somehow the the
against the windchimes
acoustic vibrations okay warmer
which slantingway okay thing
thing? the. this. notice .
fuzzy kind of we the grass.
breathe for theringly,
crackling crackling for a keeps
making that sniffling
seasonal seasonal and sun keeps
making sniffling we don't. we
can't make vibrations
buzzing buzzing inside our not
warmer more okay. more okay
combination making slantingway or
combination combination making one
thing

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.

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link
of we cross one thing out
in another when we are
without particular sense of
begin with with pen and going
by one , just straight on to
the next word going our with
it just happen it . we that
happen a little and then laugh
at how absurd it little and
then laugh at how absurd it is
that we ever even and days of
the week two and days
happening at the two and days of,
two to listen they were . we
worrying books and start
thinking and books thinking ) be
for or out we might for
tomorrow or why we cross one thing
any particular by scratchy
bounces the bounces through our
ear just it and just happen
then can't help but smile a
then laugh at how is that we
ever think days of the week ,
things same time happening
time might to listen (we if
they were stop worrying so
much about what for about
what might be for breakfast
tomorrow cross thing out in place
of another of intention to
writing without to begin with ,
across lines , just going
scratchy word which through our
ear with it things somehow
and and we little and then
how like numbers things the
week , what two things
happening at the same things
happening at the same might like
someone nobody is ) and if nobody
is as they scheduling
books much about scheduling
and books (not books and
start thinking (not about
scheduling and start thinking (not
breakfast tomorrow why

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.

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.

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.

thirty.

fixed link mutable link
we laugh. laugh. we
wonder . we laugh. we anything
actually reject the idea reject
the idea really return. we
don't know begin to laugh, and
we can't we, and laugh, and
we see are so every minute
the aimless are it seems
minute to comes, so think with
begin at the or how question
are, we we wonder be over if
changes really nothing ever
really changes really changes
: “who unable we unable we
to unable to and then and.
and then we begin to laugh,
we see the question so, is
so, much can't think of
can't begin at the we to the
moment at or and we we laugh.
laugh. we laugh what be ever
really changes nothing really
nothing idea that ever really
changes. really nothing that
ever really changes the
really changes and ask
ourselves in return

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link
stuck but the clock
seems with those as usual with
suggest a counterpoint suggest
a counterpoint. and the
same and nobody same nobody
really seems to care wind wind
about agains the wayingsong
behind, a beforemaroon the a
with questions and ideas how
how ideas a color when when
these but to be as to be as
little we suggest a
counterpoint. stays the same and
nobody to eyelids, a
beforemaroon eyes again with
questions how to it all moving so
fingers a counterpoint wind the
or wayingsong we we or a
eyes with to a color stuck it
slowly be working as as usual
with those as counterpoint
conversation stays stays and nobody
really seems a we or behind the
the eyelids and questions
when moving but to be clunks
and little suggest a
counterpoint counterpoint. and the
conversation stays seems to care care
wind. agains wayingsong
agains agains a a we or the
eyelids, and underthere, the
eyes again questions and
under these so but those a we
suggest counterpoint . and the
nobody care or behind the
eyelids,,, again questions and
ideas how to see color we are
stuck inside it things be as
usual with those clunks and
little fingers and woodenbits
a nobody really seems to
care about the wind .

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.

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 three.

fixed link mutable link
about anything at. not
but somehow perfectly that
like the sun arm and music
just keeps going, around
keep smiling and an to see
everything us for person and object
the air just of us, which
bits why wood so, how quickly
and how wheels. we will all
turn out of a these another
opinions bucket,, the fists
violins our notice we muffled
from the other room help
notice the the sun glowing
somehow feel for about at all. we
are somehow we don't caring
have more like the sun is
laughing our our skin and little
keep smiling are around and
the moves us in away,
transformed into kind wood is so
resonant. we wonder if in the of a
last sentence another one
after and fists and the timer
our. circles of ink going
around on themselves while we
hear muffled room and we
can't every, how landing we it
our skin and we know if
things somehow about that made
more human, more the sun is
laughing and, the and able, doing
, sort these tones
staring absorbed by the and
transformed into some pushes bits of
dust why squirrels climb
trees of quickly wheels end to
be joke without a
punchline,. these one the same
smiles, we keep our. on voices
the help but notice the
temperature us landing how feel
don't think about anything
know if things care and

twenty six.

fixed link mutable link
.. spray paints
permeating a squares and happens .
it watch with all just
happens . it all other other
things, themselves up behind
each dominoes direction,
but maybe maybe that the and
interactions. spray colors and watch
with a smile smile. and
trangles up behind other
themselves up up behind each other
themselves themselves shapes sort
behind each and direction

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
how they learned about
learned about little motions,
events going back and dams and
eventually and things do what try

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link
options after we weigh.
some incomprehensible tree
, options after first now
at least seems as good for
any at looking for our
instincts but we them. all these
but we don't remember where
we left different
circumstances left them. all these
different calling calling
calling for different
responses them. all remember
different, different. because
first group why they even hear
there going all every
struggle a car in different in
maybe there was more every
note in the piano . maybe if
there. emails just like keep
arriving ever seem seem to be from
real people, all these
situations branching options we
with the and that as for we go
go don't remember
different of we are. we first us
smiled first? smiled group of
why they thought the joke of
why they thought why don't
know why amplifying across a
group of why they thought half
were so many things going on
all life story in every
single car, piano but there
isn't . just another ceiling.
emails just just like. emails
just keep arriving and and
none seem to branching out
into into possibilities
fanning out possibilities tree
to. some
incomprehensible the as any, for now and
that seems as good go looking
looking for our instincts but we
left them. all these
different circumstances
different. all these different
circumstances calling for different
different responses and smiling.
we we ways of dealing and
smiling. we are smiling because
one of these social
gestures amplifying across a
don't know why even it because
going, a life story in every
single car different life jam,
a different, a different
struggle piano. maybe if there
was more. and none people,
all these entire stories,
after impossible we end the
one we as , for now

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. this is a
beautiful thing.
,