ennui
-
Observe. Spit in his face, and he turns the other cheek. This man who is not even a doormat. A doormat is welcoming, even when stepped on. He is but the puddle you step over: shallow, dirty, unwanted, cold. Once, a part of something greater.
-
again, it haunts me. I exist: a collection of past histories. to be detached here. my brain remains stained: a thin film of sepia, still, coats every corner. to be detached, here. here: a test message. half-assed half-fuck confession said off the record. to be detached: here. I have forgotten the foreign feeling; how to
-
1. Blinking fast to imitate watching an old film reel. As if to capture you I watch you burn de-li-be-rate-ly into the spaces behind my eyelids: a silent protest, against a vague sense of mono no aware¹. All come to pass. This is my personal Hiroshima. Before you crash and burn, leave your shadows on my wall. 2.
-
delusional writing on an online page stimulates the memory of having done something one’s not. sitting in others’ shoes shows a lack of logic and restraint when it comes to remembering one’s place. do not just dance to forget it all. this is advice. this is instruction. suck it up. stick out your paw. go
-
I. “I know what I want But I don’t know where it is.” I’ll keep looking Around in circles of dust Left behind, in the afterglow And the aftermath. “I know what I want But I’m afraid to ask.” II. I wanted to feel it again. I want to feel the familiar Movement: wrist
ugly stage 