Tag: Words
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a note to the reader who is myself:
Even in your dénouement, you are still beginning.
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Art as a visceral feeling; and other rambling thoughts
Again, change –the art, me, you.
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Words I carry (to read when I’m sober)
A peril of going through the internet; you change. It rattles around the head.
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I made seven breakfasts and did Sunday laundry
This is what I do on Sundays, or thereabouts.
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The last piece I wrote in 2020
I think it’s incomplete.
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but didn’t i promise to fall in love
These letters, like this promise, is not for you.
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Filters in development
This time last year I was bawling my eyes out in a public restroom.
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s:
\ ˈsmī(-ə)l \
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Book Review: All Systems Red by Martha Wells
Dark humor, space shenanigans, evil corporations. Oh, and a Murderbot.
jari m 