i wish this was a sandcastle

i built a good one yesterday, accidentally, with a friend - i left it on the beach

soft voices - mundane observations in muted tones - muted but not broken - functioning, like an organism in retreat, but with room to dig in, for later growth - for now, underwater, strange breathing, strained, but filling a certain percentage of capacitors that turn oxygen into thought

prove that you're fertile? grateful for crumbs - remembering matt's "eyepowder" - it's true, i am doing "research" - i'm learning things - that i can think whatever i want about this and that, but emotions rule the roost, make or break thoughts, notions, ideas, worldview, or the view of a simple object, action

i might need to hide, i hope not - but there are bastions, reserves of purpose, or just, JESUS CHRIST, WHY DO I HAVE TO NAME THESE THINGS? it seems this urge is the root of the sickness - anyway - books are a refuge - they have been, recently - it's just a shame i have to say what is worthy and beautiful and what is sick - let's call it a snow globe - a flake of shambles past - i really like this font, that's a fact - and i like redheads - i hope they appreciate, haha - nah

why do i seek thrills? like that's a worthy goal - maybe it was, once - this is the endless conversation - sleep can be delayed - you just woke papa up - fidel's flipping channels - neighbor kitty comes over to visit - meowing, meowing