I am disconnected. I see the White Helmets deep in the struggle to shame away the dust and blood, but they are just an image. I do not grasp the material horror of it all because I am not there. I have no taste of it, no smell, no touch of the trembling fingers, just … Continue reading White Helmet

snow, sparkling like crystal droplets from the moon coming together to form a virgin sheath like the ounces of man that form the blanket of humanity so like we are, yet so far apart you, the snow, so frequently lovely, and we, the man, pretending to be beautiful I think governments can't do much - … Continue reading Snow

Perhaps it is not so horrible to lose your memory, as long as it is sufficiently lost. As long as there are no bent musings that remain. Brown, discomforting thoughts. Just thoughts. Nothing in our blissful conscience that speaks of hideous things. Because we cannot sniff ourself like a dog examining its severed limb, or … Continue reading Memory

I had dreams yesterday, that seemed important, then. They were mathematical and sanguine but were not muscular. They had no spine, no limbs, then. They were not precise. You must catch your dreams before they fade, stir them like the soup of life, eat them hot or they will dissolve like melting turnips and escape … Continue reading Yesterday and Dreams

As right as right may be, as right as the wrong of a long lost memory. This madness is an omen of most horrible doom. A condemnation of subtle violence, of silent desperation, in the darkness of a well-lit-room. As true as pretended truth displays the truthful lies in these passing days. Unity is our … Continue reading The Comedy of Terror