(no subject)
dear friends:
words recently have been hovering just out of reach like glass paperweights or supernatural balloons with a terrible fragility, fragments thinly pasted together with hairline cracks in constant evasion of my clumsy grasping fingers.
started becoming quite fascinated by ugliness, unsightliness, the underneaths. have been taking an awful number of self-portraits documenting imperfections that are oddly pleasing in themselves. there is something that is quite reassuring about undisguised blemishes, treading the line between colourful flags and shameful concealment - something noble to be found in unabashed stances. there are certain things that i will not apologize for.
every day; slow reconstruction by mending each straw that broke my back. hands still like deserts filled with landmines &hidden sharp things, emptying coffee cups by the bathful, electrifying the neonlit blues away.
i have lot of things to do and my mum wrote me back today; so things are pretty good.
--end--
words recently have been hovering just out of reach like glass paperweights or supernatural balloons with a terrible fragility, fragments thinly pasted together with hairline cracks in constant evasion of my clumsy grasping fingers.
started becoming quite fascinated by ugliness, unsightliness, the underneaths. have been taking an awful number of self-portraits documenting imperfections that are oddly pleasing in themselves. there is something that is quite reassuring about undisguised blemishes, treading the line between colourful flags and shameful concealment - something noble to be found in unabashed stances. there are certain things that i will not apologize for.
every day; slow reconstruction by mending each straw that broke my back. hands still like deserts filled with landmines &hidden sharp things, emptying coffee cups by the bathful, electrifying the neonlit blues away.
i have lot of things to do and my mum wrote me back today; so things are pretty good.
--end--