A rusted bell rattled and clapped deep inside the kitchen phone. Sabina gave Mother a look, stood up, and stepped in. It was Dr. Aikenson. Sabina leaned against the wall, twirling her right index finger around and in through the long, yellow-stained cord. Aikenson proceeded with his prognosis: “I’m afraid that…”
Unbeknownst to us these narratives took hold over and paralyzed our environs.
Ronnie has long-developed a tuning out. “Doesn’t she know they’ve had this coming?” he thought. “Death comes to all things.”
I wish you would have talked to me about stages of life. I wish we would have had a serious talk about transitions. Shit, I wish you would have talked to me about energy.
I had my first psychedelic experience at a young age by becoming sick with the flu. As I was lying in bed, swirling patterns in the shadows covered the entire ceiling.
I'm excited to announce that I will possibly have two books out this year–Vast + Spacious and Next Age. Both poetry books, but with Vast, it's a collection of journal entries, culled by my friend K.F. Blasco Solér, so it's super intimate and raw and a little heartbreaking. Next Age, still in progress, is my …
Soon we will be writing to each other not by hand or typewriters, but will be sitting, as it were, in front of these glowing ovens, and there will be some sort of system that will connect us...
As ideas materialize they don’t always make for the best of conversations, nor should they be a part of the conversation, at least the ones you’re invited to.
Observe with some clarity your transitions. Sometimes someone is going to help you through, tremendously, maybe just a little, maybe not at all.
Trust no one/ became a part of his DNA...