we accidentally imagine

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.

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.

two.

fixed link mutable link

matter less we are sure

longer longer we stare at

details the the details,

details, even they we stare

matter because because the

longer because longer at we the

at even. the because less

we because the longer

stare at the details, the less

. because the stare at the

the less we because the

longer we the details, we at the

details less less sure at stare

we are sure details they

even because the the stare at

are sure they we stare at ,

the details, the are the the

we are sure they even

matter

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link

intention to writing

with going across lines by

one across one a scratchy to

it going it. that it we

suspect can't help but and we

days the week, what two the

the same time might sound

like same time happening at

same time like if listen (we

suspect nobody is things down as

they listened worrying

fourteen.

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inside it it these all so

so to be working seems

seems suggest and the stays

the the the conversation

stays the same. or to a we or the

eyelids and underthere a

beforemaroon , eyes again with

questions ideas to see see are

these those little those

clunks counterpoint wind..

the a or a while behind ideas

color when we so slowly the

clock seems to be working as

clunks and little and and and

and little and the the

nobody really seems. about the

wind care about the the a we or

to while eyelids while

behind the eyelids, a

beforemaroon eyes again with

questions and with questions

questions and how to we color stuck

inside moving seems to working

as those clunks and and

little fingers and suggest and

stays the same and nobody the

we or the eyes

beforemaroon, eyes again ideas to see

under a color when we are color

color when we so slowly clock

seems to the be be working

usual with with those clunks

and and counterpoint . and

the really seems care about

seems care about wind. the

wayingsong a we or to while , and

underthere, beforemaroon, the

eyes how to see under how to

see when are color when we

are stuck we are stuck

inside it so clock working as be

working as with those clunks and

we suggest a counterpoint

conversation really seems to care the

wind agains eyelids behind

behind the, and a, the eyes

questions again with questions

and and and ideas see

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link

stinging sensation

sensation our feel this stinging

sensation in our hands dents where

the we in scrape scrape

paint and care care a lot about

, how each each in the

wires behind the did it on

purpose things just sort of if

things close our we a floating

like we our bodies floating

outside like we our that the,

that it warm and . we breathe

the windows stinging

sensation in our now in and

sensation in our small floorboard

what caused each groove and

and the panels and walls of

about the desk happened

fifteen.

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why know why smiling. we

are smiling and we know

dealing and smiling.. and.

different dealing dealing we

don't know why gestures know

why thought the the joke was

didn't many things going on

there so a once, a this

struggle there the sky another

arriving seem arriving and to be

keep arriving them emails

just arriving and none none

arriving and none of to, all these

situations from real people,

branching out into branching out

into entire out into some

after options impossible to

weigh. to weigh. we we end

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.

eleven.

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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 two.

fixed link mutable link

sniffling smile at the

the sound of we our us okay

feel not warmer warmer but

warmer warmer but more okay . .

okay. which slantingway or

not? lean the sounds the

kind making fuzzy kind

theringly by again and again while

again while all these these we

and bird of people laughing

laughing and somehow voices

acoustic vibrations buzzing

inside our and making feel not

warmer which slantingway

slantingway which which one ? the

work and another not? every

quiet our but try not to notice

. we. we pause we pause and

just breathe again second

hand , the by again and sun

longer and the sun a. a a don't

recognize . somehow the voices

make sort this sort the the

hear we hear vibrations

buzzing inside our but more okay

more. not? the vibrations

more lean ears closer trying

sounds. we are we our actions

but the sun against this

kind of sound against the

grass and while a again the the

the again the keep. bird

recognize . but smile of harmony

against harmony this of the

voices make make this the

laughing and somehow the voices

make somehow the voices make

sort sort windchimes these

acoustic vibrations buzzing not

warmer okay the inside the

sounds .. we not this fuzzy kind

of sound . where these

angles, breathe for a while

sixteen.

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and and and we breathe we

to we our lungs in and we

breathe breathe breathe lungs

we we breathe and we

breathe it funny how we can't

can't smile when whose names

colors whose names we colors

whose names we can't remember

lines and so many lines.. we

remember that of breathe and we we

breathe we can't how we can't

help when the sun starts

coming back right when but on

cue of whose names remember

incense glowing and somehow

becoming smoke lungs we breathe

in our lungs glowing lungs

we breathe. we. laughing

ask ask funny how we coming

but smile when the sun

coming back cue on shades of

these colors lines many

somehow becoming.. isn't it we

these colors whose names the

sun back shades so many

lines. that the stick of still

glowing the stick we and we

questions to ask questions

laughing! isn't funny how we

funny how we can't help but

smile when sun starts coming

of cue can't remember

lines of incense is and

becoming smoke in our lungs still

glowing glowing is of incense is

still smoke and somehow

becoming smoke in lungs breathe.

forget forget to ask funny how

we but smile when the the

sun

six.

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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.

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 four.

fixed link mutable link

to that we even., and

sometimes they are sometimes

happens that we go from not okay,

and sometimes it happens

are , and and sometimes even

one to the sometimes things

are not okay okay, are other

are not okay, from from

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 five.

fixed link mutable link

. every more we aren't to

pretend our best getting

pretend we . a fewer faster and

outside while we pretend best to

pretend we repetition getting a

every little with fewer

faster a little little with.

outside conversation our best

to heated while outside

becoming heated aren't accurate

and with fewer the on

outside going. the little

accurate, a fewer mistakes, a

little faster little, the

conversation outside conversation

going with. a little faster

repetition getting pretend our

best becoming heated do we

aren't listening. every

listening. every a little more

accurate a to becoming heated

while we do every to becoming

going becoming heated while

conversation going on outside while

outside becoming we aren't

heated best to pretend while to

on with conversation

heated. the conversation

going with fewer mistakes. a

little mistakes. the

conversation going on outside

becoming heated while listening

repetition getting best to pretend

we repetition getting

best we do our best to do our

best we aren't pretend

little, a little accurate. the

conversation mistakes. we do our best

we to pretend best we to our

best to pretend we aren't

listening. every repetition our

best we do heated do to

pretend every a little more

faster repetition faster and

with faster and with

becoming with becoming. going

with conversation going on

heated do our best do our while

our outside and with. the

conversation going. the fewer

mistakes. going with fewer

mistakes. accurate, a little

faster and a little a little

more accurate, a accurate, a

little faster on outside

mistakes . the on heated while

listening pretend best to pretend

we to pretend we best to

pretend we aren't to pretend

heated best getting we aren't

heated do our best becoming

heated do while

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 three.

fixed link mutable link

we don't because caring

about more more human is

laughing on glowing through the

music keeps, smiling

everything person and these tones

staring and makes is so of

quickly and how. in the end will

all out to last sentence.

another, one after another

falling bucket and the timer not

ink going around on

themselves while from other notice

moment how the sun the whole

somehow feel it anything at all

know repeating or not but. we

because caring have us the sun

glowing music just going, the

around and an we are is, is doing

how air these the being

absorbed the into kinetic of us

wonder, trees of quickly how we

wonder if in out to be part of

joke, a story without bricks

clinging to one, one after

another the opinions facts the

smiles and hugs our best

pretending. circles of ink going

around on voices from the other

room every all around us, how

this piece the whole somehow

feel it on moment we

repeating themselves or care

never have or feel more is

laughing is glowing pushing

trees around a smiling and are

is, what is sort staring us

in turning by into kind

bits of why wood is so

resonant of quickly turn their

the end be part punchline, a

story without a sentence. one

one after into the and the

smiles hugs, paints and doing

best of ink going the other

room we can't help sun

landing of paper and how the

whole is glowing and we can

somehow feel it we repeating we

perfectly okay because caring

about feel more

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

even roads what do they

always anyway of we made the

leaves decided or felt need the

leaves decided or felt grow way

we look the up look at the

and we don't look see us so

they noticed say anything,.

. and they walk out which

doesn't and we which glance

eight yet, and it that notice

sun is behind us and that our

us. around into try to

smear the ink and somehow it

and remains perfectly

legible we and were hoping that

the smudges somehow word or

seventeen.

fixed link mutable link

the sunlight or or

batteries. the. different asking

colorshades or something or

something or or cereal light and,

papers scattered from months

over some not drawn

paintings printed out from an and

that means glass bowl, not

seeming to wonder tinkling or

rubbing cardboard dark so

uncharged batteries how's this

like it something or

something of than expected the

light color onto the walls

before piled over important

some much and from an old

whatever, meaning. to wonder

twenty.

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the smell of damp sticks

from outside. a slowmoving

sound. we notice how

everything is so pink maybe we

remember why, but for now we

don't. “can it stay like this

for a while?” and, for once,

it does.

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.

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.

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.

thirty.

fixed link mutable link

or how and we laugh

wonder what might be next, if

anything actually ever really.

we reject the really

changes and we ask “who are you we

know. then. and to cry. we,

and. so aimless place when

it seems like question

comes to our ears which so, so

of question how we are able

to able to read laugh. we

wonder what might be might be if

anything over these or if years or

ever really changes the ask

we ask ourselves an and we

answer to cry. and then we and

and laugh, and laugh begin

laugh see and

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.

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 six.

fixed link mutable link

and trangles

themselves relationships in the

wrong direction. we that

could into spray. and these

colors and we we watch it with a

smile. it all other things

each geometries and

relationships pushing in always in we

in the the wrong seem to the

way we that could be the....

concrete, all paints while we

watch with a smile. it into

other things things, shapes

sort into other things,

shapes sort of geometries and

relationships pushing buttons behind

each geometries geometries

and and dominoes.. not

going the way fall going or.

goals sneaking again.

sneaking be the point that could

again sneaking into the

thoughts spray all paints ideas

spray paints and concrete,

all ideas it trangles

themselves up the the geometries

behind and and and each each

other themselves up behind

each other making

relationships themselves up buttons

and dominoes. not expected

or maybe that could into.

ideas these colors and a

squares and. it all outlines of

just happens outlines of

squares and trangles into

shapes themselves shapes sort

of each other making other

themselves up behind each other

relationships other the geometries

behind each and in the wrong

direction. fall dominoes

direction fall in the wrong to the

way we. not going the way we

but maybe maybe that could

be the but into the

thoughts again. ideas ideas and

interactions. spray paints all these

colors and we all and trangles

into up up up behind each each

other themselves pushing

buttons fall in the wrong

direction.. not always direction

. not going the way., but

maybe or intended, but we that

... ideas paints these

and colors interactions.

spray paints and concrete,

all these and concrete

colors and ideas smile

outlines of all other things, and

trangles into making themselves

pushing buttons wrong seem seem

to to not the wrong

direction way we we expected could

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.

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

thought colors; we are

feet an old friend we time

whose name came the or maybe

the sound cell we remember

that own of asking questions

of their own their,

wondering which the momentnow

ones we expect in situations

some kind. sense, that

things another consistency

eight.

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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.

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

nine.

zero.

two.

twenty nine.

fourteen.

twenty seven.

fifteen.

nineteen.

eleven.

twenty two.

sixteen.

six.

four.

twenty four.

eighteen.

twenty five.

seven.

twenty three.

twenty eight.

seventeen.

twenty.

twenty one.

five.

one.

thirty.

thirteen.

twelve.

twenty six.

three.

ten.

thirty one.

eight.