She held the leaf up to the light and squinted, “looks like there’s something inside the veins.” Leaf torn, out stuck what looked like a hair, further pulling; first thread then needle into toothpick until finally it was apparent; a finely rolled up bit of paper had grown within the leaf. It read “She held the leaf up to the light and squinted, “looks like there’s something inside the veins.” Leaf torn, out stuck what looked like a hair, further pulling; first thread then needle into toothpick until finally it was apparent; a finely rolled up bit of paper had grown within the leaf. It read “……””

A father to his child;

You see how the ice melts into the water and freezes back to ice? How the plants die and come each year, how the animals live and die? such is the nature of this life. Your thoughts and feelings, dreams passions and friends too shall morph and change. I say this not to incite despair, but to excite love. Do not fall into the trap of over attachment. The two differ. You will meet countless people roaming around as if they had a veil over their eyes clinging to phantoms uncertain of what they’ve erected for themselves.

Know that learning can never be exhausted, the world with every surface written in splendid ink is there for you to absorb, and fear not those who esteem themselves above another for their knowledge or where it was acquired. A conversation with a stranger may be worth more than a library of books. And as lovely as it may be it is also an endless desert, it may drive you mad.

Remember your body is the cord that keeps you here. Never neglect it, learn to speak it’s language and it will serve you well.

Some will try to use you, some will only care for what comes off your tongue, others what you can do, yet others for who you are. Learn to differentiate, and always be willing to lend an ear. We are all identical, it is only that some have been hurt, are lost, confused, alone, hungry, handicapped, or a myriad of things.

Most importantly; there will come a day where you will surpass me, so forgive my harms, forgive my faults and misguiding, forgive my weakness, and remember you too shall grow old.

As to what happens after you leave, and the meaning of it all I shall leave for you to determine. Simply know that anyone who can no longer feel the mystery is as good as dead and should be avoided. Live as you want to live and look after one another.

An act in three plays;

I. Our actor playing the role of an actor in the midst of a shower is wrapt in poetic musing. “Oh what a life is this, descending from divine heights solely to mingle with filth, and then plummeting to rusty plumbing death. Water, how my heart sighs for you.”

II. Our actor now out of character and willfully unaware of their acting is stuck in traffic and on the phone with their mother. “Look, it’s been 15 years since the damn cat died, I’m not going to come and empty out the liter ma. THE CAT’S GONE. Yea. Oh? In the cupboard to the right. Yea. Alright, I’ll see you at dinner. No we’re not married yet. Ma…”

III. The audience is asked to relocate to the street corner 5 blocks down. The premise is that each individual’s experiences are framed by the fact they’re “watching a play.” Each vantage is equally as valid, and all the other audience members fluidly transition from spectator to performer to prop.

Each segment is performed a week apart. For no real reason other than that the director is infatuated with the role of director.

that son of a bitch keller… i was on my way to break when we crossed paths in the main corridor, he slyly asked how my research was going. that smug asshole. he thinks because he received all that funding last year for his atomic toaster remodification that he’s fucking lord of bread or something. please. the whole thing sort of reminds me of this story my grandfather would always tell me. It was the only one he ever told me. But it’s time to enjoy lunch now. Anne packed me a cucumber and almond butter sandwich on rye. i love that women. She sort of reminds me of one of my childhood best friends, back when childhood seemed like it would extend forever into the phosphorescent distance. The story went something like, “there was a family of golfers who disowned their son because he passionately contended that tennis was simply the superior sport.” i don’t like tennis, or golf, but i know keller is an amateur golfer, so in that sense it makes sense. i know i’m close to a breakthrough though, i can feel it. once i finish creating this new binding agent i can then replace the stator coil with this synthetic-bioelectric tree sap modeled after this recently discovered form of life within the jovian clouds. this microwave will be the epitome of home food convenience.

oh the time has flown. drowned? maybe it drove by in a flaming chariot. i like that conception for now.


7am still unable to sleep. Stupefied I went outside and tore the water spigot right from the wall and lodged it just above my ear. A viscous liquid the color of bloody urine came flooding out. There was aunt Becky’s last phone call, and there the list of things to do last week, that girl’s passing glance, something about foundational physics and phonons, a few unintelligible doodles done on a napkin, what I should have said in that interview, the taste of grandma’s sweet almond chocolate cake, some loose strands of this morning’s dream, or was that a memory? Oh well…

Sweet relief.

I crawled back into bed just as the day’s rays crawled in through the curtains, we met half way. Shot the breeze, then I reminded him where our property line was while subtly pointing at my newly purchased no trespassing sign.

lightly tapping my finger on the j key, that familiar little indent, “here you are.” “You are safe,” i suppose it’s really saying. what to write? what to write? not much really… i even wish i didn’t have this compulsion, that by this time of day i’d be empty, no thoughts spilling. the collected instants of the days just keep piling up in the corner. “i’m waiting.” “i’ll turn them into something…” no i’m not… no i won’t. and even on the rare occasion i do, they still linger. what for? shouldn’t i initiate? isn’t that what this is? don’t i? is it not enough? what is one to do….

hi there little one. hey there mister. how are you lovely. come for a visit. tell me a story my friend. oh no… where have you gone?

where am i, where have i gone?

my heart’s running dry. i can feel it cracking with each beat. i can no longer tell the difference between a reconstruction of a person and their actual presence.

someone come visit. someone drag me along. someone remind me their is such a thing as intimacy. that my innermost thoughts don’t just trail off into an abyss.

there was that passage on loneliness a while ago. why is it unbearable? no one likes one who admits their frailty? who’s no one?

and worst yet, can it ever be relieved? have i not always felt this way?

the sun will rise and blur the line between solitude and loneliness. the din of the street, the rustling of pages, the subtle smiles and brush-ups and glances will make their way again. some semblance of it all.

fuck this place.

Why can’t I fall madly in love with anybody. Am I too demanding?

Is it too much to ask for someone who will totally blow me away? Someone I don’t feel the need to entertain. To teach me and show me things I’ve never imagined. Someone unashamedly themselves. Articulate. Impulsive and brash and witty and graceful and still slightly unsure of everything. Who only sees possibilities and not obstacles. Who can speak with her eyes and ears and soul. As light and flighty as a feather yet furious like a god damn pack of cheetahs. I want to feel like I’m in the presence of a goddess. Who can see straight through my poor mortal cloud of words sounds images and ideas. Who can hear not the words I say but the intentions I so ineffectively convey. Who won’t be afraid to beat me around a little, or tell me to shut up, and bring up things that need addressing. Who won’t allow coldness and resentment and apathy creep in. And if we fight and destroy everything we own only sees it as therapy. Who’s fine with having nothing and everything. Who’ll remember no matter how close we get we’re still individuals and death claims us all.

Who still believes in the dumb idea called “love.”


David Nicholls, Starter for Ten

Why would I want to go visit friends who never return calls…

when did i let go of the infinite? the restless daze, the absolute ocean, the constant falling, when did i stop wandering? somewhere the adventure shriveled up and puffed away. i rebuilt the cell and have been hitting my head against the wall. once you start differentiating that’s it. the aquifer dried up.

thankfully it’s coming back.

I just had a weird bonding moment with my sister. its like she was an actual human being for a moment rather than an abstract scribble with a “sister” label. it was nice, but i always get this strange feeling in my gut. it’s too surreal sometimes bonding with family. i’ve felt pretty distant from them all for a good portion of my life, it was always hard to relate. but only more recently am i taking liberty to cross boundaries i had assumed were there, as well as simply accepting them faults and all. i don’t know where they came from, who they were, how they see themselves, what their subject world is colored with. but they’re there. and with my sister its even more awkward, do i tell her not to do things? i don’t feel comfortable with that…. i can tell her to be careful with what she does. i always wish she were a little more conscientious, that she realized there’re so many more intricate and awesome facets to life than sweet 16s and reality shows. but meh…. i can’t control her, and i like that when i approach her as a friend she’s pretty open.