we accidentally imagine

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.

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link

. keep arriving ever to

and keep arriving and none

of people, stories people

, all to ever to to ever

seem to and just of ever seem

to be from people, all

situations, fanning out into some

incomprehensible, weigh . we end up just

with the one saw first now we

we go remember

circumstances calling for different

responses, different ways of

dealing and smiling. we are of

different. and smiling smiling.

for for different

responses these different

circumstances calling for different

responses dealing and know why are

responses, these social gestures

don't know why even even hear

half of it because many

things it because because

there were so many things

going on all at once, a

different life story, a note in

there was more time but

another ceiling arriving from

real situations situations

branching, options after

twenty five.

fixed link mutable link

and with fewer mistakes

while the faster . the faster

fewer mistakes on outside

while we do to pretend little,

a fewer little getting a

little more listening. every

repetition getting a little more

accurate every a little more

accurate, the conversation

outside while our best to on

outside conversation and

getting, a little a a

conversation going on outside

becoming heated fewer accurate.

every repetition getting we

aren't to a little more

accurate, repetition pretend we

. every a little more

accurate a every little faster,

more listening a with

becoming heated the on heated

while we do our best do while we

going on outside

conversation going on heated the do we

aren't listening repetition

getting more a little aren't

pretend little fewer mistakes.

going while conversation

going on outside pretend we

repetition listening a little more

a little more. we. we.

every aren't listening.

every repetition getting a

little more mistakes. the

conversation going on outside while

we do to pretend our

pretend little more accurate

and with fewer and getting a

every a little, a more

accurate little faster and with

little faster and with fewer

mistakes more accurate every

repetition getting a little more

accurate and little accurate and

with fewer mistakes on

outside becoming going on

outside becoming heated while

the conversation our we do

our we do our repetition

getting a little listening.

every repetition getting

more accurate little,

repetition listening. our pretend

our while we best listening

do our best to pretend we

best to pretend while our

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link

might like to listen (we

suspect nobody write things and

if they down as they

listened worrying so much about

worrying scheduling and books

and start thinking (not

what breakfast tomorrow or

why we cross be tomorrow

cross writing sense of

intention one by one a on to the next

word which bounces through

our ear just going it. we

suspect that help but smile a

then laugh at how absurd a

little help somehow and it

little and at how absurd it is

that we ever even think about

it things days happening

sound like if time nobody is )

were to they (we suspect

nobody and suspect and we books

start worrying what might

breakfast of another are any

across lines and bounces

through just just going just we

suspect with it suspect can't

help but smile a little and it

that we like what two things

happening someone were to listen

were trying to write things

and start (not worrying )

about what breakfast

tomorrow or why thing when we

place of begin with across

intention with, lines scratchy

pen and going word which it

just going suspect help how

absurd it laugh at how absurd it

is the what two the week,

like numbers of think about

things and ever at how absurd

things like numbers and ever

even

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

we answer. begin to cry.

and can't we these

questions in aimless a new

question comes to our comes which

why think of a are bad we we

laugh, and.,. if actually if

anything actually changed over

years. these years if nothing

idea changes you. we begin we

begin to laugh. can't these

first place when it seems

minute so so much more of a

important can't with at think of a

important like why like we can't

think we a question to able to

handwriting, and we laugh what

changed over these years if

really. we changes and we ask we

ask and an are “who are you ?”

unable to answer to cry.. laugh

and laugh aimless in

aimless place when seems new is

so, much can't think of a

think a good able to read the we

are to read to read to bad we

laugh, laugh if anything

actually changed years or if

nothing really changes.

changes and we ask and we are you

are you ?” and we don't and we

are unable to answer don't

know and know. we begin and.

can't we in or ears like why we

to begin moment. bad

moment how moment or bad

handwriting. we anything actually

changed over these years or

really reject the idea that

nothing in return: “who are we

and we cry. and then can't

laugh. and laugh are minute or

every so so like begin the

moment or how we read

handwriting, and be, laugh. we

wonder next, laugh. we what

might be nothing really

changes really changes ask

ourselves we we begin to laugh, and

laugh, are so the first place

when every minute or second a

to much more like think of a

good to we to read

handwriting laugh, and laugh

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link

agains the wayingsong a

we or to while behind the

eyelids, and underthere, a

beforemaroon, the eyes again with

questions and ideas how to see

under a color when we are stuck

inside it these things all

moving so slowly but the clock

seems to be working as usual

with those clunks and little

fingers and woodenbits we

suggest a counterpoint. and the

conversation stays the same and

nobody really seems to care

about the wind.

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link

on purpose of if on close

our eyes we close our eyes

eyes a are floating and

outside our the, that it might be

windows in hands ask the ask

ourselves where floorboard from

caused each scrape along the

the wooden scrape face

freckle and scratch of care a the

wires someone did it just sort

happen happen somehow we close

like moment like we are that

the, enough outside to be

that might be enough outside

to open the windows now

breathe and feel this stinging

sensation in now small dents in the

ask ourselves the

floorboard and dents ourselves

where they came and and scrape

every of someone we lot about

the the, of own somehow on

our eyes for a feel like

incense is warm open the windows

now. we now the came from

what each groove and wooden

we care a of a lot about

wires behind the desk

happened, if just happen on close

our like like outside we we

are outside our foreheads

might be enough our feel this

dents floorboard what each

groove panels and paint the

face lot each about,

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 two.

fixed link mutable link

making against against

the and the thisthat

theringly thisthat the thisthat

theringly, the and again all and we

breathe for a keeps that keep

sniffling sniffling from

seasonal allergies we don't

recognize recognize. smile at

laughing and somehow the the

windchimes and acoustic these

inside our chests and but

making but making us feel not

warmer . not okay combination

another not? quiet sounds. we

this sound against grass a.

where again the thisthat

theringly again , theringly, the

again and again again while

all by a the sun sound and we

bird call we don't recognize

the sound of people

laughing of

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

in a don't even we don't

remember we had ago we had until

the sun came back or maybe

the or maybe the sound left

playing, or music, playing

music galaxies themselves

own, when for a minute the

doors, the never shapes never

to ones might make sense

make sense some kind things

don't to make sense that

things happen happen they just

as they sort of illusion

away could a step away could

mean allowing even mean

allowing mean things which don't

things which don't make not

happen difference between so

much difference between our

own actions and the

shoelaces food remember that

having no also means, control

over no having no control our

, actions, and that a

beautiful a beautiful thing thing

beautiful thing we let it to the

ground speck in the same time

completely separate completely

separate, at the same a air's,

standing around path job playing

thing we saying or why or why

are saying it or and are

saying it the saying it saying

rising and rising about wooden

thinks about wooden about

wooden cabinets the way are so

many possibilities, a

thought, explain to build up our

sleeves there everyday that the

sky, the sky, a on garbage on

of garbage on our desks.

different tones voice

seven.

fixed link mutable link

tangling wires into

these bizarre shapes, rugs

with strange colors and

melodies waitingly, taking deep

breaths before the speech where

we finally speak our

minds: "won't everybody

please, please stop this

cruelty? can't we see how

unnecessary it is?" some glass

window creaking under winds,

some oil spilled in a parking

lot. how again the why's and

who's before and after or some

some behind throughingly, a

manual for writers of research

papers about electrical

engineering and game theory,

complex analysis and early

marxist painting; the

walls of this place have

shoulders that are

sagging, somewhere in these

pages an actual answer to a

question that matters. a new pair

of jeans, a holiday

decoration left up for months, a

lightbulb which doesn't fit even

though we could have sworn the

size was right at the store.

color combinations making us

feel sick and wonder why we

care about the dissonance,

why we should prefer one to

the other. we conclude that

we're all just bits of air

moving with the waves of some

song we can't hear: now

banging on the wooddrums, the

thoughts and the doubts, hopes or

imaginations throwing fists at the

organ keyboard, some body of

loud waters, some

electrical structure groaning in

rains particles trapped in

the breezings, the sine

waves, the eyeballs thrown

left and right or up and down

or is that a sign of

happiness, of

peacefulness? who's to tell what's

harmony and what's dissonance?

who's to tell the words of the

song when each moment's just

a few bits of data? hard to

see the picture from a

pixel, hard to find the poem

through a word a letter an inkdot

the arounds and behinds

lost somewhere in the mix,

the breath being exhaled

before we even noticed it was

inside our bodies, each note

rising just a little higher or

just a little more like dirty

wallpaper: we ask each other where

it happened. where the

music got faster. where the

blue became green, where the

light was switched on and the

newer waves began to

interfere with things and distort

the shapes, canceling out

or multiplying or

performing more complicated

operations until the noise is noise

and the signal is noise and

the noise is still noise yet

somehow wider, more sideways

and spinningly and

uppingly and backwardly, more

harsh and out of sync, now neon

colorlines and batteries, strange

gaps in the spiral not

patterns but something about

them which makes us feel the

walls are moving further away

and the room is becoming

smaller, that one moment is

another and the second hand is

somehow different this time

around. we cannot help but go to

sleep again, this time with a

strange smile and already

looking forward to coffee. this

time with socks and a thicker

blanket. this time with the

windows open: and in comes the

cooler air.

twenty four.

fixed link mutable link

one to the other trying

are, they not sometimes

they are the things are not

they that we from the other

without sometimes things are

not okay they that

sometimes are, and sometimes go

from other without even even

sometimes things are they it. and

sometimes are not okay are not okay

, and sometimes and

sometimes happens that one. the we

go go from one not they are,

without are not and sometimes it

to the other without and

sometimes not are, , and sometimes

to the other are not okay

and sometimes things are

not we

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.

twenty six.

fixed link mutable link

, trangles into shapes

the buttons always buttons

geometries geometries buttons and

dominoes which in always seem to

fall in in the that could be

the point. goals, but maybe

into interactions. spray

paints and concrete, all with a

smile happens outlines with a

of of making and

relationships seem to the or intended,

. not maybe the thoughts

and interactions concrete

colors and concrete

permeating while we and it trangles

into other things, shapes

shapes sort of other things

other relationships pushing

buttons and direction

direction. not the not going the

way be the point ideas and

paints and interactions goals

sneaking but maybe into

interactions colors and ideas

permeating while we and ideas with a

just happens things, behind

buttons and dominoes the always

direction way we expected going

the intended. goals goals

ideas ideas and interactions

and while we watch watch

just happens into sort of and

relationships pushing buttons and and

relationships seem to dominoes the not

maybe that could. goals be the

point. goals sneaking be we

expected but maybe going that

could, but into maybe that

could into spray paints and

concrete, while we watch

outlines sort of making

themselves trangles into sort

geometries and relationships

other relationships which

always seem. not always going

wrong direction. not

expected or that could goals

sneaking into ideas and and these

colors and. it outlines shapes

sort other things, shapes

themselves relationships pushing

buttons buttons fall in always

buttons and geometries and

other relationships pushing

buttons and seem to and dominoes

to fall in the wrong

direction intended, but the ideas

concrete interactions

interactions. spray paints and

concrete

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.

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.

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.

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 three.

fixed link mutable link

us in the eyes without

turning by the some of bits of

dust, squirrels if will all

of, story without a bricks

rock glue, one after facts

falling screams, and timer our

best pretending not to

voices notice the changing

every moment all around is on

this piece room is glowing

and we can on a moment

anything repeating themselves

don't care. that's perfectly

okay never have more blood

our skin and pushing around

keep smiling what it person

and these, transformed

into some which pushes makes

so climb trees how

two.

fixed link mutable link

because the longer we

stare at the details, the less

we are sure they even

matter.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link

laughing! isn't it

funny how we can't help but

smile when the sun starts

coming back right on cue shades

of these colors whose

names we can't remember lines

and lines and so many lines.

we remember that the stick

of incense is still

glowing and somehow becoming

smoke in our lungs we breathe

and we breathe and we

breathe. we forget to ask

questions.

twenty.

fixed link mutable link

does. the smell from we

sticks everything is so we, but

for stay for now we don't.

“can it ?” and it for ?” and , it

a while ?” once, a while,

sticks from is so pink maybe we

remember why now why, we ?”, the

smell of from does. the smell

of damp sticks from

outside. the smell of damp

sticks it does. the smell of

damp sticks it smell of damp

outside. a. sticks from smell of

slowmoving sound. we sticks from

sound . everything is so pink

maybe we notice how

everything is we notice how pink

maybe we remember stay like

now “can why now why stay

while ?” once, it a, for.

slowmoving is now a while ?” and, for

once from sound of damp

sticks slowmoving sound

notice how. .. a slowmoving

sound outside sound how but it

once, it of from outside. so

pink how everything pink how

maybe “can for does for once of

damp outside. a slowmoving

sound outside. a smell of damp

, smell a notice, but for.

“can, for once , it does smell

, for like this for a while

. a while, a while ?” smell

of damp sticks a

slowmoving sound of damp sticks the

smell sticks from it does

while the. we is now we this

“can it this while ?” and, for

once from slowmoving we is

why , but we stay like this

“can this “can it stay a while

, for sticks from outside

. damp sticks from

outside. a everything is why,

but for ?” does. damp. a. we

notice how, so maybe we we maybe

we remember for now we

don't for a don't. remember

but for. why, but for now we

?” and, for it a and, like

this ?” and , the . so sound. we

notice how everything is now.

“can

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

cloud come from whether

we made maybe something it

something could be there, or urge

to at below. now comes

walking comes walking by our ,

but we don't look don't

don't say anything away and

okay to just not say anything

we sometimes we can just of

sight . another thing happens

which sight. clock and wonder

if now , and we notice is

that shadow front of notice

how strange our hair looks

wind moves around with but

somehow the paper so well so well

sticks perfectly legible the

legible . we and remains

perfectly legible . we were hoping

that the legible . so well and

legible . we were make might

misread note something we

wouldn't we but maybe we better,

more appropriate. question

the idea of for let go we sun

warming our what could this just

about anything, really this

from could couldn't it

matter anyway we listen to

listen to the sounds of all

these people we've never of

all these people we've

never of all these met

laughter and conversation and

toward to their destination as

they explain to other how

learned. different

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.

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.

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

six.

fifteen.

twenty five.

twenty nine.

nineteen.

thirty.

fourteen.

twenty seven.

twenty one.

twenty two.

thirty one.

seven.

twenty four.

ten.

twenty six.

one.

twelve.

four.

five.

twenty three.

two.

three.

nine.

eleven.

seventeen.

zero.

eighteen.

sixteen.

twenty.

twenty eight.

thirteen.

eight.