I get so used to seeing myself that way, and being that way, that it seems impossible to avoid a future where all of it gets revealed, raw and lazy. I won’t complain. Worlds will keep turning. Oceans will not empty. I will look around my corners and see who left themselves behind, aching to blame me for something, to chisel at me with their calcified blemishes. I harden differently. Softness becomes defiance. I feel all in a mossy garden of lies, fantasies.
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Recent Posts
- Insane right now tonight this was the other night
- Wasted times
- Let the anxiety return. Let it rain up and down inside this head
- This is meant as art.
- Wake up sore
- Somebody is alwys more important than me
- Host your images and videos at blob.core.windows.net
- Ouroborous wall art at WTC
- Pretty strange autocomplete moment
- Forget
- Feelin’ Groovy. Ed Koch/Queensboro. Film photo from before it was called the Ed Koch/Queensboro
- ‘Schpital
- I like being naked at the girlfriend’s place
- I don’t know
- Fantasy