Not Enough Time
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Commonplace Book – 2025
“People were nice if you found the right ones. The trouble was there were so many of the wrong ones.”
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We Might Be Hollow, But We’re Brave
“Virgin,” meanwhile, is a work of difficulty, and about being difficult.
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Time in the Encampments
What I mean is this: it always takes longer than you have scheduled for, if you are coming from the outside in.
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Lowell Buried
What a garbage year it’s been! Shockingly (at least to me, given how endless and abbreviated it has managed to feel all at once), we’re already well past the halfway point.
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August, 2024
Claiming I’m “still alive” would feel like an overstatement, but my being living or dead doesn’t have anything to do with why I haven’t posted here in a while.
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Through My Most Grievous Fault
[This is a first draft, with intentions to be cleaned up for submissions.] You’ve been dreading having to work on anything in the server room since you landed this gig. You could feel the anxiety rising behind your sternum, already heightened from all the feigned-knowing nods and deflective smiles you’d been pulling throughout the day,…
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Here I Go Back Into Faceless Places
the market hates you even more than you hate yourself Rae Armantrout, “Hate”
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October 2023
Hauntology and Weird are two iterations of the same problematic – that of crisis-blasted modernity showing its contradictory face, utterly new and traced with remnants, chaotic and nihilist and stained with human rebukes… Since the 1970s their ‘separateness’ has become dominant, not because there is a ‘drive to separate’, but as a corollary of the oscillating efficacy of as-simon-pure-as-possible Weird…
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September 2023
If we were not so single-minded/ about keeping our lives moving,/ and for once could do nothing,/ perhaps a huge silence/ might interrupt this sadness/ of never understanding ourselves/ and of threatening ourselves with/ death
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August 2023
The crickets sang in the grasses. They sang the song of summer’s ending, a sad, monotonous song. “Summer is over and gone,” they sang. “Over and gone, over and gone. Summer is dying, dying.” The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last forever. Even on the most beautiful days…
Not Enough Time 