Granite landings cleft by tourism. The babble of the clouds choking on each other. What was once an excavation, now just a halfheartedly flooded tunnel. Passing by the scattered ignorance of naked bones. The slick surface of fingertips. A pebble beach. Meditation up to the breastbone. Hearing two thunders in the water. The sun sets downstream, water besmirched by banality. An evening without lights. Explosions in the distance that go unheard. Celebration, without understanding anything other than hedonism. If you are out there watching it, then it's for you.
3:30 p.m. - 2021-07-10
Recent entries:
Maybe Just Shut Your Fucking Mouth - 2021-07-15
When Learning Becomes Confirmation - 2021-07-15
Duracell for Life - 2021-07-15
As An Easy Gallop Upwards - 2021-07-10
Twenty Thousand Plus - 2021-07-10
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