Me and Caitlin have a rotten egg sitting on our window sill. We've been saving it for months intending to break it open and squirm and giggle at the goo. I folded a debit card into the shape of a house and put it benethe my bonzai tree that my dad gave me for my birthday. They make so much sense when I veiw them as metaphores -- the thoughts deep ( Read more... )

sweet little forrest birds are nestled up for the night in the eves of my yurt. thev been doing this for a few weeks now. at the spot ther're at, heat leaks out into the night. its 30f right now and ther're softly squeeking to eachother, soaking up the wafts of warm air. when i leave for college tomorrow there will be no more fires,... im worring ( Read more... )

the sound of mum singing please dont float so faast in that wispery hollow old tree fetal voice seems to fill my yurt with just the right sloshy liquid smoke right now ( Read more... )

delicioius honey lime marsh


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captivity retreats like cave shadows in a slow motion sunset and red tail raptors circle a full moon beach at midnight.

falling leaves must be confused about direction when it’s windy. I hear the wind outside, some windows are open, the draft feels soothing, comforting like tall rustling eucalyptus trees. there is a definite point at which that joint of mine let go of its ridged wooden time. it seems like the branch is imaginary, but maybe it grew for the soul ( Read more... )

i was a mime who could pick up the sun, pick up the sun just like a telephone ( Read more... )

to apply for achitecture school i need a self portrate. if i could, i would apear as a dot to the world. foced to appear as lines and colors i end up as a floating head ready to be painted with the viewers white cinamatic primer. a two dimentinal view from wich to consider the directions im capable of. well i guess we have layers of outlined bee ( Read more... )

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in the begining; because there are tiny tunnels inside every raindrop.
in the end; because stormy pink is eternity.
like hands, falling in love with lighthouses mirroring lost souls.
like an irridecint spill soaking into your clothing
you know that flower petals feel like alien skin leaking protons
i know, because i can make a spaceship in a