i've often wondered about my urgent need to record strange, frightening, curious dreams; about my utter disappointment when, due to time or circumstance, one falls through the cracks.

it struck me today that capturing the surreal world of each snapshot, each bizarre universe, is a lesson in writing...a test of skill..

like the herald of an ancient god, a dazzling monarch butterfly fluttered past the 21st-floor window, past the bland black/brown of the meeting room, past the drivel, past our deep distances, our careful constructions, the stern facade, the concrete, all melting beneath its sudden gaze

سال ۹

این کیه
این کیه
که‌ با من همنفسه

what is UP today. shaking, shaking, shaking with a not-unusual amount/type of caffeine...

driving reminds me of oxford.
driving reminds me of oxford.
driving reminds me of...

Ласкаво просимо

Hello, lone reader in Ukraine.

the night before last

i was running through a massive field, at dusk, terrified that it would soon be too dark to see.

and suddenly, it was.

i reached the edge of the woods, turned back, and ran the whole length of the field again in a trivial haze of moonlight.

a near-slip as the otherwise flat, grassy surface sloped to reveal a glittering outdoor pool; the shock of pavement; the flicker of a quick shadow as i turned in time to see the wolf leap toward me, teeth gleaming, scaring me awake...

the little moments alone

walking home from the store. cooking with the music on. stepping into the shower. watering the plants. crossing a large, empty lobby. a bike ride. the five seconds of an empty sidewalk.