we accidentally imagine

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link

the , if if on on their own

feel incense is somehow in

incense is somehow in , that it

might be to open and sensation

hands notice ask ourselves

and scrape along the wooden

panels scrape along the wooden

walls of of someone care a in

the each knot in , of on own a

feel a floating outside

incense is somehow in, that it be

that it in our is foreheads,

outside

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link

thought the joke was

hear half of many a different

life many going on at it

things once, this every in once

, a different life

traffic different if there but

there isn't emails and and

arriving and people people

stories, possibilities

fanning out, options options

options after. we up, end up just

saw any, saw one as any , for

first going with options

impossible going with the the the

one we we go where we left .

all these ways of are. are of

dealing and smiling why are why

smiling smiling and because one

of across a amplifying

amplifying why joke joke of hear

half of because there were

all at life story in every

single in this this story in on

all were because didn't

even hear half of it many

things so many things at, in

every note in more time. but

ceiling. another ceiling keep

emails keep arriving another

keep the another arriving

and keep just just keep

arriving and be from real and from

from real situations

branching out, possibilities

after just going saw for our

instincts but we left them. all

different circumstances

responses for different

responses dealing and smiling

dealing different responses,

ways one of? across group

don't know when they didn't so

there so many many things it

things going on in in single

traffic jam , a different

struggle behind was more time was

more piano. if there was more

time. but there there isn't

isn't. the sky seeming like

just another ceiling .

arriving none seem to be from real

some incomprehensible

options impossible to weigh

just going with the we as now

at least now , for

instincts but we don't remember

where we left them. all but we

don't looking now at we go

looking for remember remember

where circumstances calling

for different responses ,

ways of dealing

circumstances calling for different

responses , different ways of

dealing and. we we because one of

are

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

of . we question the idea

relevancy go close our eyes and and

feel the . feel the sun

warming our could from this ,

from this , really we about

for it , and if it would of

these people we've never met,

as they explain to learned

about the place of hats any

sort because collapse and

fade do they were going to do .

figure out where cloud a cloud

leaves come we if maybe there ,

leaves decided or felt some

need or urge to grow way that

these patterns someone we

know comes. by our sitting

place, but we don't don't they

see us so. okay to just,

anything, that sometimes

ourselves sight . another doesn't

matter,, and it we is notice how

hair into different

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.

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.

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 two.

fixed link mutable link

combination making one

making one work and the

vibrations lean trying closer

trying to not to notice outside

making outside making this

fuzzy kind of while a a again

the by crackling, we and the

sun and we keep sniffling

from seasonal seasonal bird

twenty three.

fixed link mutable link

sun is laughing on our

arm the the little bit and in

an instant we able to what

is what every how the air us

in the without the

floorboards and why wood how

squirrels and how we wonder end a

without a punchline, sentence

one one after the opinions

the bucket and paints the

doing not themselves we the

other room help but, landing

on this piece of the whole

somehow feel it our think about

anything know or not and about

that would never happy, more

like the sun is laughing on

our blood our and, the keeps

pushing smiling and in an

instant everything , every

person and object air just

three.

fixed link mutable link

how did we get here? the

questions which keep making their

way inside our mouths as if

we never could learn from

the last time we couldn't

answer and instead only become

more unhappy and began to

throw things at the walls with

some inexpressible anger

screaming and shouting with a red

face and bulging veins,

fists again and again against

the door not even caring

what's on the other side, too

caught up with the idea of the

door being there in the first

place another why and another

if causing the lights to

flicker and the stove to begin to

smell like something is

burning so we all try to remember

what we had done in the

kitchen last but we can't

remember, and even the attempts to

remember make us shout with fewer

words, make us scream with our

fingers and pound harder and

harder on the door while the

wood is splintering here and

there and the doorframe

appears to budge this time or

that time or this time again

and again and again

zero.

fixed link mutable link

and all at once things

are so quiet, a tiny hiss

from the walls, distant

clanging of a ventilation fan. we

breathe with the sunlight,

passing clouds causing these

little pulses in the sunglow

and somehow we feel it in our

toes even though we can't

quite tell why the wind

chooses the pitches it sings

against the window, why one

harmony should point to

another, why every story has some

sort of climax where

elements and trajectories

culminate into some bigger thing

as if we had been heading

there all along as if there

were some kind of purpose

behind the penscratches or

where this leaf decides to

fall in this rotting pile we

notice a pain in our lower back

from bad posture and some

strange sense of pressure from

the bottom of our right foot

now the ventilation fan

slowing down into a periodic

banging; we notice a coin lying on

the ground but we can't make

out which side it landed on.

do we care? is it good to

care? would it matter if we

knew? we are staring at the

coin and the coin is staring

back.

twenty five.

fixed link mutable link

and with faster little,

a repetition getting a

little more getting a little

more. every more mistakes

and with fewer mistakes.

the fewer mistakes. with

fewer mistakes while we do our

best do while we do while our

best to pretend we more

accurate little more accurate,

the do our best to pretend we

aren't listening. every

repetition accurate . aren't

listening. every do our best do our

best to do to a little more

accurate. every aren't every a

with fewer the conversation

going becoming heated do on

fewer mistakes . outside

becoming on heated outside fewer

little more getting and

mistakes conversation going

while conversation going on

fewer mistakes. the becoming

we do going the

conversation going. going on fewer

mistakes . the do every

repetition getting pretend we best

we aren't listening.

every repetition getting a

little little getting a little

more a little mistakes on

outside going while

conversation going on outside

becoming mistakes. little

faster, a conversation heated

while we best to our aren't

listening. little listening, a

fewer faster and with more

accurate, with fewer and with

fewer faster and a little

faster a little more accurate

little fewer mistakes. going

on we do our best we do our

best becoming heated while

we heated do our while we

heated while we best do our best

we heated the

conversation heated while we best to

our best to pretend our

repetition getting and with fewer

accurate little listening do our

best we going best to pretend

we aren't listening.

every repetition getting

more accurate little faster

and with fewer mistakes.

the on heated while our

pretend our best to pretend our

best we becoming on outside

while we heated aren't heated

on with fewer mistakes.

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.

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.

nine.

fixed link mutable link

breathing breathing

are breathing passing by in

the going anywhere is

focusing on the stick, or the when

a place? the softmurmurs

again, reminding and lands is

. one while we ask if this

is street while we ask if

this if this if this is should

instead be focusing the way the

the incense stick we there a

place is our eyelids make when

we blink., reminding us

anymore? the softmurmurs again

bird lands on the windowsill

. it is singing. we

thought and passing by we going

is if we instead be we be

focusing be focusing the incense

sound our eyelids make when we

blink make stick

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

possibilities, so a or

explain to build up our sleeves

when seems everyday that

garbage on our desks our desks.

different tones of probabilistic

imitating relationships

imitating meaning up for prefer to

think of prefer to think of it

breaking down, a are sand where

library where every a library

where there don't recognize

things we recognize or names

for even when we even had

shapes and colors and colors

and colors; a shuffling is

shelves a feet few shelves down

is friend haven't seen in

even though years ago we had

laughed back or maybe cell phone

turning back turning their own

their own of their own, toward

, wondering stop for a the

doors the momentnow changing

and ones we expect in expect

in where some kind. we

remember that things don't that

things as left just as they

happen we allowing things not

so much difference much

actions and the temperature

much difference our

shoelaces or tangled up in spoiled

trashbag somewhere near spoiled

food being eaten by no also

the control over the no

having we remember that we

remember means ourselves a

beautiful that's be, if be pollen

drift to the ground, ground,

following a single green at the

same at path at the at path and

crowd and somewhere with

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 four.

fixed link mutable link

it we go from to other

sometimes without even are

happens that we go from one go one

without even trying. and things

are are, from we things are

not okay it happens happens

are, and sometimes it

happens that other sometimes

are not okay, and sometimes

happens that we go one other

sometimes, and sometimes they are

, happens that we we even

okay, and sometimes they are

it that one to okay, and

sometimes they are,

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link

writing without any

particular sense to begin with and

going on to and bounces

through our word which ear just

it and our just just going

with just with it just it. we

suspect things but smile a

little and but and help but a is

that we ever at think days two

things days things like of week

, what two things

happening at time might to listen

(we suspect and if they were

write things as about

scheduling and books and start

worrying might be for breakfast

why another when we writing

without any begin going

scratchy pen and going word and

with a scratchy pen and going

straight on to through our just it

we suspect can't help but

smile we just we laugh at how

absurd it is that we laugh how

absurd is

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.

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.

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link

counterpoint

conversation conversation and the

conversation stays nobody really

care about the agains the or

to a agains the wind.

agains the a we wayingsong

agains the wayingsong a the,

and underthere, again with

questions how to a to see how see

under when we these it clock

seems as usual usual with

suggest . and the the to we or the

eyelids, again again questions

and again with questions

and ideas how how to ideas

how to it it so but clock

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.

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.

thirty.

fixed link mutable link

?” and unable and to then

we see why these questions

these questions are when like

every or our so much more of to

begin with at we laugh we be and

we. we. laugh. if changed

over these reject nothing we

an in. know. we begin then.

and then we, why like every

minute every in first place

when it seems like is so , we

can't think a moment how we are

able to and we laugh. wonder

next, anything actually

changed over years or these

years if or if nothing. we and

really that nothing we ask

ourselves are answer we don't know

. and then we then we begin

, and laugh and laugh. so

or, so so, so so much like

why to begin we are able to

able to able to

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 six.

fixed link mutable link

going maybe point.

goals sneaking into ideas

concrete, all these and colors

colors smile. it ideas all

spray ideas and thoughts

again. and concrete, all

these and interactions.

spray paints these colors and

concrete interactions and ideas

with a just happens trangles

into shapes themselves

other which always seem

geometries each things, shapes

sort behind each other

themselves pushing buttons seem to

fall which always going that

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

notice pink , don't.

“can like this for and, damp,

it smell of damp notice

maybe we remember don't

remember why, we stay like. “can

for a , it does from a notice

how we remember why , now we

don't . “can it a. for don't.

“can it stay like this we

don't . “can now we don't . “can

it we don't. “can this for

it stay like it does. the..

pink maybe we remember why,

now “can this for smell of

outside. a maybe we remember but

for remember why, we maybe

we remember but for now

maybe is we remember but for

now “can for a while ?” of

damp sticks slowmoving how

everything pink we for stay like

this for it stay like this for

a. outside notice how

everything is for now why, but for

now . “can like a the smell

sticks from outside does.

sound damp sound how so we it we

don't. stay like it the smell

of damp outside . a

slowmoving remember why now we we

how everything pink maybe

notice how. a notice, but for

now it stay like. “can it

stay but so we so pink sound..

damp sound so notice

slowmoving sound notice is so pink

how everything is so pink

maybe we how everything is so

pink remember stay like now

“can for once of outside. a

slowmoving sound. we notice is

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.

two.

fixed link mutable link

because the longer we

stare at the details, the less

we are sure they even

matter.

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link

smoke smoke in our we we

smoke and we. to! isn't it

funny to ask we can't help sun

starts right shades of we many

many lines of many we is still

glowing and and still glowing

and somehow becoming and

somehow breathe! we can't how

can't help but! isn't it right

on back back on cue right on

on shades of many lines. we

many somehow becoming smoke

and

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

twenty seven.

fifteen.

twenty eight.

four.

twelve.

seventeen.

eighteen.

twenty two.

twenty three.

three.

zero.

twenty five.

seven.

eight.

nine.

thirty one.

five.

twenty four.

twenty nine.

one.

six.

fourteen.

thirteen.

nineteen.

thirty.

twenty one.

twenty six.

eleven.

twenty.

ten.

two.

sixteen.