Seances with the flashbacks of old lovers in the early evening. A lot of words sent spinning into silence. Mirrors that don't answer, and don't ratify words. Seeing a mouth that moves without noise. Giving up and retiring into geriatricism with a scavenged collection of Igo magazines. Dog-eared pages of unspoilt dreams. I fall in love with a sepia photo of a Taiwanese woman. I study her every game as an art student would study Monet. Spending the rest of my life learning to appreciate footprints. Soaking them in ethanol, and pinning to the corkboard of my would-be identity as the rest of me withers away.
8:13 p.m. - 2020-04-01
Recent entries:
Thanking the Pandemonium - 2020-11-26
Simplicity of Sometimes - 2020-11-25
Bubblebeams - 2020-11-18
Red Blue Green Purple - 2020-11-11
Too Young to Descend - 2020-11-11
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