April 17, 2022

Cleaning unwritten drafts

While headed towards a Chinese restaurant, I held my notebook tucked in between the warm fold of my arm. The notebook is a go-to object to grab when headed out the door on a solo excursion where I know I’ll be occupying a space meant for more folks than one.

Surely enough, I was sat at a four-person table in a packed place full of cheery, chatty citizens. I opened the brown, cloth-bound book and didn’t know what to scribble in the time before my tofu peppercorn dish would arrive.

Thinking of what to write had me writing down topics I could possibly write about. Here are those topics.

I’m also including a slurry of pending post titles to clean up my drafts folder. At one point I thought these words would spur well-wrought articles, but instead they’ve occupied a digital graveyard. In case they might be a source for future thoughts, I wish to preserve them—while not allowing them to crowd the sacred canvas, the digital abyss, the zero-bit brain bin dot txt.

What it means to break from comfort—and why it is the absolute most comfortable

Whether it is necessary to deviate from your authorial style after you are almost certain you have established one

What it feels like to imagine the magnetization of attention—and why it is a lie

Embarrassment toward certain potential writing subjects—and why those are the most authentic and therefore essential

Pseudo-intellectualism, uncertainty in one’s craft, and how to be sure you are not simply a savvy buffoon

Jealousy towards cheery people and how a single phrase can open wide the otherwise unaffected

The daunting thought that everything has already been written and you are wasting your words

Beach House, Bummly, Capitalization Crisis, Deletism, Discontent, Fructose, Giddy Prompts, Literary Blue Balls, Milk, Plants, Principles, Privacy, Self-discipline, Stingray, Superstition, The Horween Wrist Wrangler, Tiny Concerts, Ukrzaliznytsia

February 7, 2022

Ray spotting

Burning daylight in the rambunctious underground rat hole. Squeezing cheese between teeth an swiping whiskers with microfiber. Artificial candle light licks dry eyes and withering thighs whip against wood grain chair seat. Billow blankets on unmade bed unlaid in with love twists. Fuzz fill the air, soften lungs and settle on coffee cup. Fill table book stack instead of books back to back with letter-shaped pen scrapes. Take a mad nap with a burlap sack stained with generated heat. Battle the bold outside winds wrapping tentacles of air into infinite curls between Twin Peaks perked up with the wealth of a hundred capital-craving captains of some unimaginative industry. Blend mold-bearing manuscripts of nature. Take tote bag out an open its folds to tug at the sun strings sapping from above. Suck in the entirety of every corona blast the size of Olympus Mons volcanic bursts down to match-stick miracles flicked on with a finger switch. The light is yours now!

Poetry
January 29, 2022

Afternoon in Dolores

A tall swaying floof
A two-legged tiger
Matcha madness petitions
Cherry ukulele, grapefruit star
Disk drum beat heart
Attack lacking sunshine
Palm leaf knapsack
Rumbling plastic black vortex
Partisan ginger pastries and
Heel blisters
Cinnamon canine sniffers
Sky streak cylinder gradient
Skunk fumes sweetly assimilate
Chunks of labic lava close
In like elevator doors as
Dials of coldness and
Clamor tilt lower still
In Dolores

Poetry