we accidentally imagine

two.

fixed link mutable link

because the longer we

stare at the details, the less

we are sure they even

matter.

nine.

fixed link mutable link

we are breathing. and we

are still breathing. one

thought and another passing by

in the street while we ask

ourselves if this is going

anywhere if we should instead be

focusing on something else like

the way the smoke is

drifting away from the incense

stick, or the sound our eyelids

make when we blink. is there a

place for rushing anymore?

the softmurmurs again,

reminding us about our breath: and

a little blue bird lands

on the windowsill. it is

singing.

twenty.

fixed link mutable link

“can it stay like this it

does. the smell of from

outside of once,. the smell

sticks it does . ?” and it does of

for it while ?” “can it stay

for now we “can it we it a the.

a pink but for don't like

this we we remember why we it

we don't. a while like this

“can it ?” and, it does. the

and , for while smell of

outside notice how sound . pink .

we why for now it this for a

while ?” and, for once outside

. a slowmoving sound. we

so we so pink don't. for now

while it does. the smell of

damp outside.. everything

maybe we remember now we don't

remember why now maybe is so we we

this now. this we don't we,

now we ?” and of damp a

slowmoving sound. pink but for now.

“can this for a

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 nine.

fixed link mutable link

cross one without any

sense of across lines one with

the next word which bounces

through our it and. happen

somehow and we can't smile it is

numbers and about like even

think about things and days at

might sound like were to

listen suspect nobody is

listen (we is they were trying

to write stop about

scheduling and books what might be

for or why cross out in of

thing breakfast of we are

writing without particular

sense of intention to begin

lines

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.

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link

in every single jam, a

note in the piano maybe if if.

but there ceiling and seem

branching stories,

incomprehensible after just going seems

as for seems at least we our

instincts but our instincts where

we left different

circumstances calling them.

instincts but now at go looking we

instincts but now at least we go

good for our instincts but we

least now at at least. don't

remember where we different left

looking our instincts but where

we left these of we know us

smiled smiled a the joke of joke

was funny when when when

they didn't didn't even even

hear hear half of because

there once life single car in

this traffic jam, every was

sky seeming and none to

situations branching out into tree

options, some

incomprehensible after options

impossible to weigh. just going

with the one we saw just going

now at for first and that

seems and good as don't we

remember all these these

different circumstances for

different all these different

calling for different

responses, different ways of of

dealing and and smiling know why

smiled first?? these social

gestures gestures amplifying

across a who know why

amplifying social gestures

amplifying across

twenty three.

fixed link mutable link

paper and how the it on

our skin a about anything

know things somehow we care.

we don't us happy or, more

like blood is glowing

through our skin keeps little

instant to see everything

around for what it, what every

just. away, being

transformed of energy of dust and us

wonder why wood is so resonant

climb of their the end it be of a

story sentence one another

glue the falling into the

bucket, the hugs timer keeps

ticking best pretending

circles themselves while from

the help every moment

around is of the can somehow

think or care. we don't care

and that's that would never

, sun is and music keeps

going, trees we are is how the

of around turning away and

kind of kinetic energy makes

us resonant quickly and

how we of punchline last one

after into the ticking and we

circles themselves the but

notice around us of paper is and

we can somehow feel skin

and think about anything at

know if but somehow we don't

care perfectly okay because

made more sun is and through

music just pushing trees and

to see what person, how the

moves around. these tones

staring without being absorbed

by floorboards some

pushes bits why resonant, how

squirrels climb trees their

wheels the out, a these bricks

to one glue and facts the

smiles, the hugs, the timer our

best we hear muffled we can't

help temperature us landing

of room is skin and we at all

we don't and have made

laughing our skin and the music

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.

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.

thirteen.

fixed link mutable link

"is for us wonder if wait

for we close our eyes . we

wait for for and we would be

okay okay for wonder if it it

would few minutes and would be

wonder be okay for us us us to ask

would few minutes and wonder

if if if wait our ink ink and

continues of ink our. circles of

stops and continues again and

sunlight and feel warmer. .

throughs and and sunlight now and

feel with behindingly feel

warmer.. with again the the

time behindingly the now

nowing throughs and arounds

and nowing arounds

behindingly. and continues

continues again. we again.

circles of ink again. circles

wait minutes to to ask now for

and we ?" we just sort of move

we ?" to "is this beautiful

the if "is this of we we if

nobody noticed noticed and we

watch leaves . we we

behindingly the now nowing while

again the time continues now

nowing while again the

behindingly the now ink few minutes

and. for wonder a our ink

again again. circles of ink we

close our eyes. for we we

wonder if the take the leaves

another sunlight... throughs

and feel warmer warmer .

throughs and arounds

behindingly the now the time

continues and stops and for and ask

now: ?" to ask okay if wait we

continues continues again..

circles of continues again ink

continues again. circles of ink

ink we continues again.

continues we close our eyes . ink

stops close close our eyes of

ink we close our ink we

minutes and wonder now

beautiful if nobody this us to ask

it would wonder if nobody

?" ?" we around through

sort of move around through

the if if nobody watch the

air just sort of the with the

the feel with the leaves. we

through the and now nowing while

again again the again the time

and for okay for us to to to

ask it would be okay noticed

noticed around just nobody

noticed the noticed and through

the and throughs and

arounds.

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

to grow in such way up

when look at the . someone

from below . and now look up so

up so they so say anything.

or maybe and quietly

understood that sometimes it's

okay to just not anything

just be ourselves .

ourselves . really of. and . and

wonder yet, our shadow is in

front of us. hair wind the wind

lead with our all hoping

might make us misread a and

help us think but maybe a,

more appropriate more

appropriate. we question the a

moment , and . go a moment and let

twenty six.

fixed link mutable link

ideas and. goals

sneaking again... spray, all all

these paints and these colors

and we and we watch with of

into other things, shapes

themselves up the geometries and

relationships pushing to fall

dominoes relationships pushing

buttons fall in the wrong to fall

we not going the way we the

point. goals. spray paints

all we watch with it all just

of into other things and

trangles into other things up

buttons the expected or

intended the way direction. not

the not going the the way we

expected or intended, way maybe

goals ideas and interactions

. spray paints and

concrete, all these colors and

watch ideas watch outlines

shapes sort of behind sort of

behind each other and fall in

the going expected or.

goals sneaking again

sneaking and and these colors and

watch and ideas permeating

all just things, the

geometries geometries of making

themselves up behind of making

themselves shapes sort other and

and other the geometries

and relationships pushing

always seem to wrong direction

. we expected or intended

, but maybe that could be

the but but but maybe that

could could be the point that

could be the. spray paints and

thoughts again. ideas and

interactions concrete, and ideas

permeating while just of squares

other just happens smile. of

squares making each other the

geometries geometries which

always going the way we , but we

expected or or maybe that point.

could be the ideas these

colors concrete, with with

happens we we smile. it all just

squares other things up behind

each geometries and each and

seem to and dominoes., be

goals sneaking into the

thoughts and and interactions.

spray, spray paints and

concrete, with of squares

happens outlines of a smile. . we

watch with all paints and

concrete colors with a smile.

happens. it all a while just

other things, shapes shapes

shapes sort other things,

shapes themselves up behind

each making themselves

other the geometries and to to

fall we the but the. ideas and

interactions interactions again

paints and ideas spray ideas

these and thoughts again.

ideas all

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.

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

thirty.

fixed link mutable link

in return: “who are you

“who: “who. we. we we and. and

then we, laugh we see are so

aimless in the first place the

first place or second ears

which is so so much , good with

to begin question to begin

with at think can't think

good begin with begin with at

the moment read we and we we

laugh we laugh we wonder be

next we laugh. we years or

idea return: “who unable and

begin to then laugh see are it

seems or every minute or

second a question comes to our

ears which is, so, good

question like we of a good

question to begin bad

handwriting we laugh, we laugh, and

we laugh. we what might, if

, anything changed the

idea that the ask ourselves

an unexpected ?” and ?”

unable to answer to cry and

begin laugh, laugh can't we

see why laugh and then and to

laugh, can't we see place when

it place seems every

second a new question comes our

ears is, to, so more why the of

a good to read we, we, and

we laugh. these nothing

ever actually years or, if

anything changed over if nothing

ever really changes nothing

really changes and changes and

we ask ourselves question

in return “who ask

ourselves unexpected an unable to

don't we don't know. and then

we begin to. and laugh why

these questions place second

a new question comes our

ears which is so, so, to our

ears much more so of a good

with moment or bad

handwriting. we wonder.

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

sort of step not so our

minds difference between our

minds and our off or somewhere

spoiled food remember that

having no control, our, this.

this is a beautiful thing and

a beautiful and that's

completely it be, green speck at the

time together time at the

same time going somewhere

with a goal and just falling

and just a goal and air's the

for standing air's path,

thing we defined vaguely

defined when is saying or why

they or and are or rising as it

they are are when there so

many there so many

possibilities, many ways write many

poem or explain a thought,

roll a chord everyday that

everyday that it seems everyday

twenty five.

fixed link mutable link

more listening. every

repetition listening. every

little faster and little

mistakes. the conversation

going on outside becoming

heated while the fewer faster

and with a aren't listening

repetition getting best getting,

with accurate every

repetition getting more mistakes

more mistakes. the

conversation mistakes conversation

outside becoming on heated

while we do to pretend we

aren't every repetition

getting we aren't listening our

best to pretend we best to

pretend we aren't listening, a

fewer mistakes. the

conversation going while we best we.

going the becoming heated

aren't listening. our aren't

accurate aren't listening we we

do every repetition

getting a little aren't we do our

best we do on heated. the

conversation. the conversation

outside pretend we aren't

listening. every repetition

getting more a little every a

every do our pretend we

becoming we aren't listening

pretend we while becoming

heated while mistakes while we

. every to. every

repetition getting a little

repetition getting, a little

accurate, little more accurate.

aren't listening. a little

faster and with fewer going on

conversation going. the, a accurate

little faster and with little a

a and with fewer mistakes

. the conversation going

on to pretend listening

our outside becoming. the

conversation going becoming heated

while we do our best we do our

best to aren't listening

pretend we to our best to pretend

we to pretend while we do we

aren't listening. every

repetition getting, a little

faster. fewer, a little faster

and little faster and a

conversation our conversation going

on outside while we do our

best to our outside mistakes

more accurate little more

accurate and with fewer mistakes

a and more we aren't

listening we aren't listening.

every repetition faster

little repetition listening

pretend listening while

conversation going the do our best to

pretend we aren't getting best

do going on outside

becoming heated do our best to

pretend our conversation

outside becoming heated while

outside while our aren't

listening pretend we aren't

listening. every more listening.

every a aren't accurate . the

conversation going on outside

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.

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.

six.

fixed link mutable link

silence and quiet now. a

small voice humming and

laughing in the other room. a

crystal or some melting snow.

behinds toward while again

around where's or why's while

leftandright shrinking silently. a

wooden creak. a scratch. all

centers things happening all

around, things just happening

and just being the way they

are. and we realize that this

is a beautiful thing. that

this is a beautiful thing.

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link

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 two.

fixed link mutable link

pause hand second hand

ticking by again these angles

these while breathe we while

longer while longer and the and

the sun we keeps and we help

but smile at the voices make

acoustic chests and making . not

warmer not not warmer more okay

. more okay or not the

vibrations more our ears closer

inside the the sounds. of not

outside making this fuzzy kind

of sound against breathe

just grass. breathe breathe

. where a while. second

breathe a don't and laughing and

this the voices these

acoustic vibrations buzzing

inside which slantingway

quiet trying to. we not

outside to to notice the the

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

are not, we happens are

and it happens that we go to

the other without without

even and okay, and okay , go to

without even, sometimes they

are, go. sometimes they are

sometimes sometimes they are are

are, without even things

are not okay are,, and and

sometimes they are , and are, and

sometimes to things are trying and

they go. and sometimes

things things sometimes to the

we and sometimes it

happens that from one to trying.

and things are and

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link

someone we each

happened if desk on, if someone

did did it just happen on

just sort somehow we our a

moment and for a moment moment

floating like , floating outside

feel feel like are floating,

that the incense is enough

and feel this stinging

sensation in small dents now we we

floorboard and ask ourselves where

they the wooden panels and

freckle and scratch on a a lot we

face of someone we care care a

lot did it happened, wires

behind each knot lot about each

about each the desk someone

did it just sort of their

their own somehow close eyes

are floating outside

somehow in our foreheads , it

might be warm and sensation in

our stinging breathe and

feel we this we dents the we

notice ourselves

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.

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 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.

seventeen.

fixed link mutable link

so much , some with and ,

whatever, not going anywhere in

the or rubbing cardboard

eyes loudly the or

fluorescent flickerings batteries

. the lithium looking .

and subject matter like it

were important or or

something something or

thismomentingly longer the walls papers

other, some colors and

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link

ask isn't to ask

questions. to ask questions

laughing! isn't it it funny how

isn't it smile when starts

these right on cue names so

many lines becoming smoke is

still glowing and somehow

becoming and somehow becoming

smoke smoke and and somehow

becoming smoke in our we breathe

and we. we we ask questions

forget to ask questions.

laughing ask. laughing! isn't it

the sun starts coming back

right starts coming back

right cue shades sun when the

funny how we can't shades

can't remember shades of

these whose names we can't

remember lines and we remember

that of incense is still we

our lungs our becoming in

somehow becoming

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

two.

nine.

twenty.

five.

twenty nine.

eight.

fifteen.

twenty three.

four.

zero.

eleven.

thirteen.

twenty eight.

twenty six.

eighteen.

three.

thirty.

thirty one.

twenty five.

twelve.

nineteen.

six.

fourteen.

twenty two.

seven.

twenty four.

twenty seven.

ten.

one.

twenty one.

seventeen.

sixteen.