Have not answers, but love.
I’d found flow with nowhere to go, so I settled in and rocked the tyco, while the stasis field psycho played mellotronic the sound of my youth a sound so suddenly minor like the reverberation of a kiss I’d missed a kind of gliding, a lilting, a sort of null, an empty lull that went… Read More
good bad nor mediocre gay straight nor any other a liberal conservative nor moderate, brother sister wife husband mother be not labeled nor determined ever for, you are no thing you are nothing you are you, aren’t you?
Author’s note: This is the second dialogue of the Advocate Dialogues. The first, The Advocate and the Attendant, need not be read in order to follow this one, however, there are a few minor references to that particular piece. Setting: The near future. A typical office, in a typical office building, in a typical downtown, of any typical… Read More
She was something other, an unrighteousness of being, an unwitting representative of a hidden paradigm, a child born again – she was Naiveté. Read More
You have sought to exit this reality for one where no one and nothing exists. In effect, you have sought your own death, and now you are angry with me for offering the very thing you cannot bring yourself to admit to actually wanting? If you want things to change, you might ought to first own up to this fact. Try being real with me now. Tell me the truth! Read More
And all at once I exist. And I’m something more than another’s means to an end. Read More
The 737 ripped in half. Or into thirds or fourths, I can’t be sure. Regardless, it came apart at aisle 17, just two rows in front of mine. And now I’m falling. Read More
i seem to be always tired nowadays. i’m moving and going all the time. my sleep is empty of dreams. yeah, i used to dream, a lot. it’s not that my sleep is not refreshing – it is. but it seems meaningless now. i don’t know why. my sleep is dead. my thoughts move so… Read More
Tuesday morning. Nearing nine. Pencil to paper. Dotting an i. Turning abruptly towards my office window. NYC engulfed in shadow below. A winged giant has come to weave a tale. I place my hand upon the glass as if to signal the approaching maiden. 470 miles per hour, coming right for me, then halt. 100… Read More