A three day sprint of corroded breaths and salt-deficiency. Sine wave tolerance turned into a murderous connect-the-dots exercise. Long stretches of unlit road. The exhalation of pavement. Pockets of warmth in the backyard. Slowly, the creeping friction of inevitable lung-death. Injections of amphetamines as a spiritual defibrillation. Routine wrung from the body beneath star-mottled clouds. Whispering infections into reckless mouths. An implosion of healing, and a collapse of motive. In the smallest and most forbidden hours, a simple and hopeless hymn for yesterdays.
7:18 p.m. - 2023-12-29
Recent entries:
A Reunion of Practice - 2024-02-02
The Regret of Japanese Rabbits - 2024-01-16
This Time (Next Week) For Sure - 2024-01-16
A Wanton Display of Sticky Nervousness - 20234-1-5
Kanji-brush Confessions - 2023-12-29
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