we accidentally imagine

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.

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.

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 four.

fixed link mutable link

trying., and sometimes

they, they are we to the other

and sometimes that other

without even trying to the one to

the and sometimes

sometimes they they are, and

sometimes it it happens happens

that we happens we to the even

one to even okay, and

sometimes they, and and we and even

and sometimes are not okay,

go sometimes happens

sometimes it happens are that we

even sometimes . not okay,

and sometimes are are not

okay , it from from. and

sometimes not,, it to even trying

okay and sometimes it

happens we go sometimes it we and

happens from . the are , and

sometimes it we go from one happens

thirty.

fixed link mutable link

we wonder what might be

next, if anything actually

changed over these years or if

nothing ever really changes. we

reject the idea that nothing

really changes and we ask

ourselves an unexpected question

in return: “who are you?”

and we are unable to answer.

we don't know. and then we

begin to cry. and then we begin

to laugh, and laugh, and

laugh. can't we see why these

questions are so aimless in the

first place when it seems like

every minute or second a new

question comes to our ears which

is so, so, so much more

important like why we can't think

of a good question to begin

with at the moment or how we

are able to read bad

handwriting. we laugh, and we laugh,

and we laugh.

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link

inside it these but the

as those woodenbits

little clunks and little

fingers and counterpoint. and

conversation about the the

wayingsong the eyes and ideas ideas

how to ideas see under color

when we are things moving so

slowly but working those

little those fingers fingers

woodenbits we suggest

conversation stays stays seems and

agains the wayingsong

wayingsong agains the. agains the

wayingsong a we or the eyes again

with questions and ideas see

seems with those stays the

wind care seems to care care

about the while the eyelids

and underthere, eyes how to

to see under a inside it

slowly all all so slowly but to

clock seems to be

counterpoint. and the same and about

the wind,, the questions

how to we are inside moving

but but to those clunks and

and we and and woodenbits we

suggest counterpoint

counterpoint. and the conversation

conversation stays seems to wind.

agains the we or, and a

beforemaroon, , the beforemaroon, to

under a color color when

inside it all working working

and those and with those

those clunks and little

fingers

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 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.

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.

eight.

fixed link mutable link

we accidentally

imagine ourselves as having for

a head this strangely

shaped box or a bird feeder with

a triangular roof or

something similar and we are

sitting in the front passenger

seat of an old car and someone

we care a lot about asks,

who are you? and we

think for a minute, and then

another. we aren't able to answer

with anything except a held

hand, and we somehow find

ourselves caring more about them

just because they asked.

they can't answer either,

and the grip gets tighter

and they aren't making eye

contact but that's okay because

we aren't looking anyway

and we are both these

strange wooden boxes attached

to bodies, heads without

eyes which still say so much,

eyes without laughinglines

which always find new things

to smile about an itch

behind our ears, the way this

piece of paper falls on the

ground, the sound of an overhead

lamp switching on laughing

about nothing in particular

and everything in

particular, wanting to want

everything and wanting to want

nothing, to feel everything and

to feel nothing, or at

least something the grip

getting tighter and we remember

how okay it is, how

beautiful it is and how funny it is

that poetry and music might

be the same thing after

all, that hiding is okay

sometimes and being naked is okay

too, that sometimes things

lead to other things, and

sometimes they don't, and

sometimes things just happen and

they keep just happening and

they don't stop. they don't

stop and it seems like they

never will, so it starts

making sense to just accept

this and close our eyes and

smile a little but somehow

this feels impossible. we

get frustrated and start to

do things we don't want to

do, blaming other people

for things nobody had

control over in the first place

and jumping to conclusions

and making assumptions

about other people and their

intentions and what they want or

what they are afraid of. we

forget that they are us, that

their grip is getting tighter

and that nothing is okay for

them either. we remember

that their boxy head is

crying and we have been trying

not to notice. we remember

that we are all the same

person born into different

bodies, and that this is a

beautiful thing. this is a

beautiful thing.

twenty five.

fixed link mutable link

little listening.

getting more accurate. the

conversation going on with little,

little more accurate every

best to pretend we aren't

getting a with fewer accurate.

every little faster and

mistakes. the faster and with

accurate, every listening we

aren't listening. every

repetition little more. every

repetition getting a little

getting a little pretend our

best to do our best listening

. little getting a a

repetition faster and the

conversation going with more we

aren't listening we we do on

outside becoming heated while

listening repetition getting, a

little faster and with fewer

mistakes on fewer the becoming

heated aren't listening

pretend we aren't do our pretend

we aren't listening a

accurate, a little going on

outside becoming heated while

we going becoming with

more faster and little, a and

mistakes. with fewer and outside

becoming we aren't accurate, a

little mistakes . little with

faster a and with accurate

little faster and little

mistakes conversation heated do

every repetition. every

repetition listening. every best

we while the fewer heated.

outside becoming going on

outside becoming heated while

we becoming heated while

we do going on outside

while we do heated best

outside while our while

listening we aren't every more.

little more listening. we

aren't heated while we do our

best to do while we do our

pretend we to pretend best to

pretend

twenty three.

fixed link mutable link

sentence to one another

with some rock, one and facts

falling into the the smiles the,

the timer our best not

notice. of ink going the room us

, paper and room our skin

and about anything don't if

are repeating themselves

don't because caring or feel

our our going, trees and we

keep smiling and in see what

person and object is around the

eyes absorbed some kind

makes us wonder, how quickly

and how cars their if all a

joke sentence another glue

another opinions the same and

the, the violins and we keep

doing our

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.

one.

fixed link mutable link

and just like that, the

page turns for us. the next

series of random numbers fill

the screen and we begin to

imagine dots and we begin to

connect them and agree and

disagree with them, relate to

them and question them and

share them. the page glares.

we glare. everybody is

glaring and nobody is laughing

and then one of us starts

laughing, and another one of us

starts laughing, and we are all

laughing and the paper is

laughing and the inkdots are

laughing: the numbers are

laughing too.

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link

) and if they (we suspect

is ) things down much and

books and start scheduling

and books start ) about

books and thinking might

worrying about what breakfast or

why cross one thing of we

might for place of another

when we are of intention

begin with of intention to

begin just going across lines

on to just with and just

going with . suspect that it.

we suspect that things

happen somehow and we can't

help smile that we ever even

think like happening at like

to listen is and listened .

so about listened. we stop

they scheduling and start

thinking (not books and start

thinking much about scheduling

(not what might for or why we

are writing intention to

begin with , just lines one

with lines one with a

scratchy pen the with it still

just suspect smile and then

at how about, what two

things happening the might

like if someone might (we )

and were write worrying

about scheduling. so much

about scheduling and books

and start thinking (not

worrying and start thinking and

and (not worrying for

breakfast or when we are any of

lines one by one with a

scratchy pen and just going

suspect that we can't

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

shadow is . we our hair

looks moves. smear ink lead

with our hand all sticks

paper perfectly legible. the

smudges might smudges a and help

us think wouldn't have

otherwise , but maybe a be a let for

relevancy eyes and just listen to

airplanes listen to the wind and

just listen airplanes come

from this we wonder we sun

warming our and feel our could if

anything could or couldn't we

wonder if anything anyway we to

people never met laughter and

conversation, pointing toward their

destination so . sort of eventually,

just and dams and eventually

, and things just do out

figure out where made it all up

or really be, that maybe

leaves decided or felt maybe

the leaves decided or felt

some patterns come up when we

from, but don't look up so see

they don't say see us away and

quietly understood to just not

say anything, that can just

ourselves and walk

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 seven.

fixed link mutable link

and scrape every

freckle and scratch face of on

the every every freckle

paint of someone lot about

each if did it sort of we are

feel our is somehow

foreheads it might be the outside

to open the in our hands

notice small dents the and ask

and scrape along along

caused came the wooden panels

walls scratch face face and

scratch care a lot about how knot

behind desk happened , if if

things somehow for feel like

bodies the might outside the in

the the came from scrape

along groove what they came

from from caused they came

ask ourselves where scrape

along the wooden wooden

panels

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link

and we breathe lungs

smoke in forget to ask

questions to how we can't help but

smile when the the sun coming

of whose can't remember

names we and remember lines

and that glowing and is

still of breathe we forget to!

isn't can't shades shades cue

on coming back cue right on

cue shades on smile the sun

starts coming back right

colors whose names we can't

names can't remember lines

and lines and lines and so

many lines of incense still

glowing and somehow becoming

smoke in forget to ask

questions forget isn't it

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.

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

dealing circumstances

calling for responses, and and

smiling because one of of are of

these why because one of

social of us smiled first of

first these gestures

amplifying across a group smiled

first people don't social

gestures amplifying one because

one are smiling and we don't

and and different

responses dealing ways of

different ways dealing we we don't

know we we first us smiled

gestures of smiled social

gestures gestures group why was

know didn't of it because

going a different single ,

every piano. maybe if... if

there more time. but there

ceiling. emails of them just.

just keep arriving and keep

arriving and keep be into entire

fanning incomprehensible we

the we saw first and saw one

with impossible weigh some

incomprehensible tree, options to weigh.

we tree, options after

options just that seems as good

for our instincts where all

these for don't why smiling us

smiled a group of people? these

social amplifying across

first? these social? these

social gestures amplifying

who? people joke was hear

half of when they didn't even

why they funny because

there were a different life in

once, this traffic jam jam,

different struggle behind behind

different note in the piano in the

if. the sky. but there

there isn't . just arriving

from these situations

branching to people, seem, all of

them ever ever keep arriving

and keep arriving and seem

these situations branching,

people, all these, all out into

entire stories,

possibilities all these options just

we up just saw, least our

instincts where we left them. all

these different, ways all for

don't know one of us and smiled

gestures us smiled first group of

who thought the joke was

know joke was funny there,

every single traffic behind

every in time.

twenty six.

fixed link mutable link

expected or intended

that could thoughts again.

ideas into the thoughts again

interactions all these a smile while

we watch outlines into

other things, shapes

themselves themselves themselves

trangles outlines of squares

shapes sort of geometries and

to fall in we be sneaking.

all these colors colors

concrete,, all ideas and paints

paints and, all these these

watch with with it it trangles

of making the geometries

each dominoes which always

seem the way we expected or

intended, but expected but maybe

that could be the point.

goals, goals sneaking and

interactions. spray paints and

concrete, with of squares things

, shapes themselves up

sort of making themselves up

behind each other which always

seem to fall in.. not always

seem the wrong direction.

not intended, but maybe

expected could. goals goals

sneaking into the and

interactions and we watch with all a of

of just happens trangles

into other themselves

relationships pushing buttons and

dominoes dominoes other the

geometries geometries and

relationships pushing buttons fall in

the way we expected could be

again. ideas permeating

while smile. watch watch with

a smile. it all just

happens outlines of into other

themselves relationships pushing

buttons and dominoes which

always seem buttons

geometries to fall direction. not

going the or intended, way we

expected or... the ideas

concrete, and, and ideas

permeating all just happens

outlines of squares things

happens outlines of, shapes

into behind each other and

dominoes to fall in the wrong seem

to fall way we expected the

wrong direction. not going

expected or intended intended,

but maybe into the point.

goals sneaking again, while

we and ideas permeating

while we smile while while we

and we. and ideas

permeating while these colors

concrete, all these colors and

ideas watch with permeating a

smile... trangles outlines

of squares making

themselves shapes each other and

relationships in we expected or.

thoughts

two.

fixed link mutable link

because the longer we

stare at the details, the less

we are sure they even

matter.

twenty two.

fixed link mutable link

pause and pause while.

thisthat theringly again for a

while .. theringly, , again

while sun keeps from seasonal

recognize we the of people

laughing and and somehow hear

hear all these acoustic

buzzing more okay. one thing and

another not not? every time we

lean every time ears trying

to hear inside the the

sounds . we are aware of our to

notice this fuzzy we pause and

second second theringly

ticking again and ticking by

while while all angles

crackling crackling and the

twenty.

fixed link mutable link

, the sound. we a we

notice how pink sound. we

notice how everything is we

remember for now like a while like

while smell of notice how

sound so pink but for. “can it

this “can it stay like this we

don't. why, but this it does.

?” it we don't. “can it this

for a while ?” smell of damp

sticks from outside. the

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.

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.

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.

thirteen.

fixed link mutable link

we wait for a few minutes

and wonder if it would be

okay for us to ask now: "is

this beautiful?" we wonder

if nobody noticed and we

watch the air just sort of move

around through the leaves. we

take another breath with the

sunlight and feel warmer.

throughs and arounds

behindingly the now nowing while

again the time continues and

stops and continues again.

circles of ink we close our eyes.

seven.

fixed link mutable link

tangling wires into

these bizarre shapes, rugs

with strange colors and

melodies waitingly, taking deep

breaths before the speech where

we finally speak our

minds: "won't everybody

please, please stop this

cruelty? can't we see how

unnecessary it is?" some glass

window creaking under winds,

some oil spilled in a parking

lot. how again the why's and

who's before and after or some

some behind throughingly, a

manual for writers of research

papers about electrical

engineering and game theory,

complex analysis and early

marxist painting; the

walls of this place have

shoulders that are

sagging, somewhere in these

pages an actual answer to a

question that matters. a new pair

of jeans, a holiday

decoration left up for months, a

lightbulb which doesn't fit even

though we could have sworn the

size was right at the store.

color combinations making us

feel sick and wonder why we

care about the dissonance,

why we should prefer one to

the other. we conclude that

we're all just bits of air

moving with the waves of some

song we can't hear: now

banging on the wooddrums, the

thoughts and the doubts, hopes or

imaginations throwing fists at the

organ keyboard, some body of

loud waters, some

electrical structure groaning in

rains particles trapped in

the breezings, the sine

waves, the eyeballs thrown

left and right or up and down

or is that a sign of

happiness, of

peacefulness? who's to tell what's

harmony and what's dissonance?

who's to tell the words of the

song when each moment's just

a few bits of data? hard to

see the picture from a

pixel, hard to find the poem

through a word a letter an inkdot

the arounds and behinds

lost somewhere in the mix,

the breath being exhaled

before we even noticed it was

inside our bodies, each note

rising just a little higher or

just a little more like dirty

wallpaper: we ask each other where

it happened. where the

music got faster. where the

blue became green, where the

light was switched on and the

newer waves began to

interfere with things and distort

the shapes, canceling out

or multiplying or

performing more complicated

operations until the noise is noise

and the signal is noise and

the noise is still noise yet

somehow wider, more sideways

and spinningly and

uppingly and backwardly, more

harsh and out of sync, now neon

colorlines and batteries, strange

gaps in the spiral not

patterns but something about

them which makes us feel the

walls are moving further away

and the room is becoming

smaller, that one moment is

another and the second hand is

somehow different this time

around. we cannot help but go to

sleep again, this time with a

strange smile and already

looking forward to coffee. this

time with socks and a thicker

blanket. this time with the

windows open: and in comes the

cooler air.

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

time the and air's path,

the just falling standing

around for job playing some

call thing we call society on

everyone even when even what

anyone is are saying why saying

something belly still rising and

falling with thinks about

wooden cabinets and wooden

cabinets many so many there are

there are so there are write a

ways to a chord to build a

build our sleeves of voice and

combinations of voice tones

different. different desks.

desks voice combinations of

and combinations of words,

probabilistic ears and make prefer to

think of breaking down again,

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

zero.

eleven.

three.

twenty four.

thirty.

fourteen.

six.

twenty one.

four.

eight.

twenty five.

twenty three.

nine.

one.

twenty nine.

twenty eight.

seventeen.

twenty seven.

sixteen.

five.

nineteen.

fifteen.

twenty six.

two.

twenty two.

twenty.

twelve.

eighteen.

ten.

thirteen.

seven.

thirty one.