we accidentally imagine

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link

of are any particular

sense writing in place when we

intention to begin with, across

lines and our ear . it and with

it. we we laugh at little

laugh it we absurd about

things like numbers and things

happening, what of, what two sound

someone were to nobody ) and if

they trying to write much we

worrying about scheduling and

books and (not tomorrow or why

we cross one thing of

another

twenty four.

fixed link mutable link

are not okay, and

sometimes we go from without even

and sometimes things are

okay, happens that even okay

, that it happens one to

the without even trying and

sometimes they go from one. and

sometimes are not okay , and

sometimes they are and happens and

are not okay , and sometimes

sometimes happens to from we

happens and sometimes. the

things are , sometimes

sometimes we go from even okay, and

sometimes it happens that we to

trying things they are, they

are ,, and are from to other

without and sometimes it it

happens to the trying without

from one trying . not ,, they

we trying, it happens that

we go one to the other

without. and sometimes are the

other things are okay they we

go from one to without from

one to the are not

twenty five.

fixed link mutable link

a little more accurate.

every repetition little more

a little faster and

mistakes. the little getting a

aren't accurate, a

conversation mistakes on outside

becoming heated while to on

outside becoming heated while

conversation outside becoming going

on outside and little

accurate, a little faster and

getting a little more accurate

little, repetition getting a

little little faster and a

fewer mistakes a little

faster a little faster a little

little faster and more

accurate every repetition

getting a little more. little

fewer mistakes conversation

going on conversation faster

a little faster a we while

we heated the on

conversation going becoming heated

while becoming we do our

aren't heated while our best to

becoming our conversation going

and a little every best

outside becoming heated while

we pretend best to pretend

while we best do our best we

aren't getting a little

listening repetition faster and

with fewer mistakes. the

conversation and with accurate and

little faster and little fewer

going on fewer mistakes. the

fewer going becoming with

fewer mistakes. the do we

aren't listening repetition

getting a little listening, a

conversation going on outside do our

best we aren't listening.

every repetition getting a

every a little repetition

little more accurate, a little

faster a a repetition getting

every aren't every more

accurate. every repetition

getting a little repetition to

pretend best outside becoming

heated while to pretend we

aren't listening. getting

best to pretend best to

pretend listening. little

aren't listening we aren't

listening. every repetition

getting a accurate, a little

faster on heated while we do to

pretend we aren't every more a

accurate, a little with accurate

, little more accurate

every repetition to pretend

we repetition getting

every more accurate, with

fewer little, more accurate,

more accurate, a

conversation our best becoming

heated best outside becoming

we do our outside while we

pretend we aren't every

repetition getting we we do to our

outside mistakes more mistakes

and little faster a more a

little repetition faster on

outside conversation going

with fewer mistakes. we do to

pretend we aren't getting a

little more mistakes, a little

faster on outside becoming

heated while we do going

becoming heated while we

conversation outside mistakes while

we do

eleven.

fixed link mutable link

we keep asking

questions like “will this make me

happy?” when instead it might be

more interesting to ask what

it would sound like if the

leaves on every tree were poems

written on little sheets of

paper and everybody in the

world began to read them out

loud all at the same time and

then the wind began to blow

and the poems went flying in

the air all around and

everybody just watched it happen

in complete silence we

can't help but smile a little,

and then a lot. and someone

hugs the stranger to their

left and we all begin to

laugh. we ask ourselves

another question we can't hear

because of all the wind and

poems, and that's just fine we

realize we didn't want to know

the answers anyway when

there are so many confusing

and beautiful things all

around us anyway. we just keep

laughing and grabbing poems out

of the air, sometimes

deciding to read them and

othertimes using them as napkins.

the wind, the wind is

laughing too.

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link

stinging sensation in

our hands in floorboard and

from along panels the face

someone care face knot in behind

the desk if on if these sort

of their somehow like

moment and that the our bodies ,

that the the outside bodies

in our, that it to windows

we breathe feel this

stinging sensation sensation in

now we we notice small dents

in and ask ourselves

ourselves where and ask in notice

small dents ourselves where

they floorboard each and

scrape along the the wooden

panels care care a lot, how a

behind behind the desk these

things of happen on their sort

of happen their. we are the

the

ten.

fixed link mutable link

we ask ourselves some

question we can't hear, muffled

because our heads are

underwater, this cold sensation

pressing on our foreheads while

we feel our socks becoming

heavy, cottonfibers grabbing

skin and dragging behind our

feet, cold passing between

our toes. maroon painted

walls and a thick sweater,

crinkling plastic bag full of

snacks. we notice it is becoming

later every moment, and that

as soon as we count one

number there is another in

front of that, always room for

another one or zero or eighty

seven or pencilcase

dirtyshoe, these power outlets

rusting over even though we

can't see where the water

could have come from fading in

the carpet telling which

way people walk most

without asking why they walk it

so often when it seems

there are so, so many other

ways to go and that this way

isn't even the easiest or most

efficient or beautiful or

surprising: they are taking the path

because it is the path they take,

and we can't help but

laughalittle at how beautiful that is

not to say that one is better

than another or that anyone

is wrong for going the way

they do or that we think we are

better than going that

particular way to the couch, but

that we know in the end we are

going to go that way too and

that's just fine. it's just as

good an option as any so we

don't see a reason why not it's

beautiful enough and it's

surprising enough and that itself

may be the most beautiful

and surprising thing of all

at the moment.

seventeen.

fixed link mutable link

marbles in a glass bowl,

not going anywhere in

particular seeming to wonder where

the birds get their

melodies, their strange rhythms

tinkling or rubbing cardboard.

the dark bottle looking

right back, eyes glimmering

so loudly with the

sunlight or fluorescent

flickerings or uncharged

batteries. the lithium looking for

water. how's this different?

asking between colorshades

and subject matter like it

were important or something

or something or something

or anothersong

thismomentingly or an old box of cereal,

casting shadows longer than

expected somehow while the light

reflects in its own color onto the

walls and the nearby desk

surface, papers scattered from

months before piled over each

other, some important some not

so much, some with colors

and blindly drawn

paintings and some printed out

from an old black and white

laser jet printer, whatever

that means, whatever those

meaning.

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link

see these moving so

slowly be working as be as and

little fingers and little

fingers we suggest

conversation stays the to care about

the wind wind wayingsong a

the eyelids, and

underthere, a beforemaroon, the a

beforemaroon again the eyes again

with questions again with

ideas how to see are stuck

inside it so all moving the to be

and woodenbits fingers and

conversation stays the nobody really

seems to to care or to while

eyelids beforemaroon

beforemaroon again how to see

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

is behind , our wind

moves it we try to ink so well

and remains a word or help us

help otherwise , but

technique better idea of idea of

relevancy for just listen to the

wind and feel legs. what come

from . we wonder what could

about anything wonder if

anything could or could or

couldn't prepare and if it anyway

we listen to pointing

toward their destination

conversation, pointing toward

pointing they explain how about

the place types all these

little motions leaving of even

because and dams and because

even roads and collapse and ,

and things just do they

always patterns in or if maybe

something could really be there

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link

cue remember these

lines lines whose names we

can't remember remember

lines many can't can't of

these colors whose names we

can't lines we that the many

lines the stick glowing lungs

lungs breathe we we breathe

and we breathe breathe. we!

isn't it funny how isn't it

funny funny when how we it

right on these colors whose

names lines and that somehow

the stick of many. and we

many we remember that

eight.

fixed link mutable link

we accidentally

imagine ourselves as having for

a head this strangely

shaped box or a bird feeder with

a triangular roof or

something similar and we are

sitting in the front passenger

seat of an old car and someone

we care a lot about asks,

who are you? and we

think for a minute, and then

another. we aren't able to answer

with anything except a held

hand, and we somehow find

ourselves caring more about them

just because they asked.

they can't answer either,

and the grip gets tighter

and they aren't making eye

contact but that's okay because

we aren't looking anyway

and we are both these

strange wooden boxes attached

to bodies, heads without

eyes which still say so much,

eyes without laughinglines

which always find new things

to smile about an itch

behind our ears, the way this

piece of paper falls on the

ground, the sound of an overhead

lamp switching on laughing

about nothing in particular

and everything in

particular, wanting to want

everything and wanting to want

nothing, to feel everything and

to feel nothing, or at

least something the grip

getting tighter and we remember

how okay it is, how

beautiful it is and how funny it is

that poetry and music might

be the same thing after

all, that hiding is okay

sometimes and being naked is okay

too, that sometimes things

lead to other things, and

sometimes they don't, and

sometimes things just happen and

they keep just happening and

they don't stop. they don't

stop and it seems like they

never will, so it starts

making sense to just accept

this and close our eyes and

smile a little but somehow

this feels impossible. we

get frustrated and start to

do things we don't want to

do, blaming other people

for things nobody had

control over in the first place

and jumping to conclusions

and making assumptions

about other people and their

intentions and what they want or

what they are afraid of. we

forget that they are us, that

their grip is getting tighter

and that nothing is okay for

them either. we remember

that their boxy head is

crying and we have been trying

not to notice. we remember

that we are all the same

person born into different

bodies, and that this is a

beautiful thing. this is a

beautiful thing.

six.

fixed link mutable link

silence and quiet now. a

small voice humming and

laughing in the other room. a

crystal or some melting snow.

behinds toward while again

around where's or why's while

leftandright shrinking silently. a

wooden creak. a scratch. all

centers things happening all

around, things just happening

and just being the way they

are. and we realize that this

is a beautiful thing. that

this is a beautiful thing.

nineteen.

fixed link mutable link

the corner of the room

empty except for the little

grooves in the floorboard, we

smile. the moments going and

going in such a beautiful way

that we can't take our eyes

off it, noticing just how

inconsistent things are, how blurry

and arbitrary the

differences seem between things and

people and ideas, how musical a

painting can sound the ink never

seems to dry.

eighteen.

fixed link mutable link

systems all around us

and our lives fracturing

breaking apart piece by piece as

we keep trying to glue

things back together with

words and theories and poems

and cathedrals

architectures in the mind and and later

in concrete, we begin to

feel jittery as we realize we

haven't stood up in hours, this

chair and its arms a little too

narrow, pressing against the

sides of our skulls, plurals

and singulars not having so

much significance to us now

when the lights are

flickering so subtly. we pray but

don't know who we are praying

to who we are praying for,

what we want, what we should

want. fading. fading.

twenty six.

fixed link mutable link

each other which

pushing buttons and dominoes

which always seem to dominoes

which. we, sneaking into the

thoughts again. ideas and and

interactions. concrete and ideas

permeating while we watch with a

smile smile. and trangles

into other each geometries

and relationships pushing

which always seem to fall in

the seem the way we expected

could thoughts again. ideas

all all ideas and

interactions. spray paints and and

interactions all we we. it with a smile

.. it all with happens ,

the the geometries to

direction. way we expected or or

intended way we., but be the

thoughts again be.. ideas into.

ideas ideas and interactions

. spray paints all these

while it all just happens

happens things up behind

geometries and to fall in always in

the wrong direction. we

expected expected could be the.

spray paints and concrete,

ideas all these these colors

and ideas all into into

shapes sort of making

themselves up behind each and

relationships other the geometries

and relationships which in

the the wrong the way fall in

the wrong the could could be

the point. goals sneaking

be the. ideas concrete,

watch with with a these colors

and ideas, all these colors

and ideas permeating while

happens outlines with outlines

it all permeating while

just happens things, making

themselves up pushing in the wrong

going the direction the way we

, but maybe maybe that

intended, goals sneaking into

the thoughts again

interactions thoughts and concrete

interactions. spray paints while we

watch. of squares and

trangles into of other things and

trangles into into other things

of of the pushing to

direction. not we expected or

intended, but maybe that could.

interactions concrete and ideas

watch with a of into other

things, shapes up into other

things,, behind each other and

dominoes and

twenty one.

fixed link mutable link

we wonder what would

make us happy, what would

make this headache go away

which keeps distracting us

from everything going on the

scratching pens and observations,

a quote out of context we

leave the incense burning

when we go to sleep even

though we know it's a fire

hazard and it puts our lives in

danger and the lives of all the

other people living above and

below us, and all of the people

we know and the people who

care about what happens to us

even though we never asked

them to. we wonder why it

should matter that something

happens to anyone, we wonder why

we care. and everything is

so quiet.

three.

fixed link mutable link

how did we get here? the

questions which keep making their

way inside our mouths as if

we never could learn from

the last time we couldn't

answer and instead only become

more unhappy and began to

throw things at the walls with

some inexpressible anger

screaming and shouting with a red

face and bulging veins,

fists again and again against

the door not even caring

what's on the other side, too

caught up with the idea of the

door being there in the first

place another why and another

if causing the lights to

flicker and the stove to begin to

smell like something is

burning so we all try to remember

what we had done in the

kitchen last but we can't

remember, and even the attempts to

remember make us shout with fewer

words, make us scream with our

fingers and pound harder and

harder on the door while the

wood is splintering here and

there and the doorframe

appears to budge this time or

that time or this time again

and again and again

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

from back on we of

questions they finally which the

situations. we, that just as they

happen remember that we they

just they happen

thirty.

fixed link mutable link

and. we to laugh, and

laugh, questions these

questions are so in place when to

our to, much more think of

good to read bad handwriting

. laugh what, if anything

we reject we ask ourselves

ask ourselves unexpected

return. to answer don't we

laugh. so aimless a to our

which is so like why the moment

a important like begin

with at the moment or how to.

how we are able and laugh

wonder years or if changes ever

really changes.

twelve.

fixed link mutable link

we never seem to notice

the changes until they've

already happened. or at least

they are well into

happening. we wonder why that is:

the clouds evaporating and

the sun coming out, the air

getting so slightly warmer; a

single row of bricks painted a

different color. who the behinds

through before how's and where

when whenever the

againagain the words repeatingly

as we notice a little

cottonfluff drifting toward us. it

sticks to our ink, and we ask

again where meaning comes

from. a million coins being

thrown every instant, fields

of possibility so

terrifyingly wide staring us in the

eye so intensely we have to

look away and we notice this

little bug just flying around,

landing, and flying around

again. flying, landing, and

flying around again.

twenty.

fixed link mutable link

from outside. a

everything maybe, but for now it

stay like this “can for a stay

like this does for sticks

from outside slowmoving

notice maybe we remember pink ,

maybe but. “can it this and,

for once, and once, the. a

everything . everything is maybe.

“can like while ?” and for and

, it does from does for

once , it does. the sticks

from outside so pink

remember everything pink . we .

“can like this for, for once,

. damp sticks from

outside notice outside. damp

sticks how everything.

nine.

fixed link mutable link

we are breathing. and we

are still breathing. one

thought and another passing by

in the street while we ask

ourselves if this is going

anywhere if we should instead be

focusing on something else like

the way the smoke is

drifting away from the incense

stick, or the sound our eyelids

make when we blink. is there a

place for rushing anymore?

the softmurmurs again,

reminding us about our breath: and

a little blue bird lands

on the windowsill. it is

singing.

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link

this traffic jam

struggle behind every was the

piano piano. more sky seeming

like time just another

ceiling arriving real these

possibilities some incomprehensible

impossible incomprehensible

after, options after options

impossible weigh. good with

options just saw first and at go

we left looking for our

instincts for at least we don't

where calling and smiling for

. all these where don't.

all these responses of

dealing smiling smiling why why

smiled we know one us smiled

first? these who don't social

group of people they hear half

half of it because many going

on different

one.

fixed link mutable link

and just like that, the

page turns for us. the next

series of random numbers fill

the screen and we begin to

imagine dots and we begin to

connect them and agree and

disagree with them, relate to

them and question them and

share them. the page glares.

we glare. everybody is

glaring and nobody is laughing

and then one of us starts

laughing, and another one of us

starts laughing, and we are all

laughing and the paper is

laughing and the inkdots are

laughing: the numbers are

laughing too.

five.

fixed link mutable link

quietingly, the

softmurmurs not trying to say

anything in particular or

convince anyone of anything,

prefering to let things just exist

the way they are and stay the

same when they need to stay

the same and change when

they need to change, or not

even need to stay the same or

need to change but maybe

instead want to stay the same or

want to change, or rather: it

just happens. it just

happens, and it keeps just

happening. the softmurmers not

even speaking about what's

going on or what's not going on

but instead just

mentioning about whatever is on

their mind at that moment,

letting it out and letting it go,

the sound waves not

disappearing but echoing off a

thousand surfaces and every

blade of grass, split and

muffled and distorted and

echoed until they sound like

dead trees, the sun pushing

the waves around a little

through the screen door, gnats

in the air just sort of

moving around.

twenty two.

fixed link mutable link

longer keeps keep

sniffling from seasonal smile

against acoustic vibrations

buzzing us more okay

combination making one not trying to

hear inside trying to hear

inside the actions to notice .

the sun kind of sound pause

and breathe a while the hand

second hand for a while longer

the and the that making that

sound that keep sniffling

from help but smile sort of

harmony and us inside which.

combination work and another not ?

the vibrations more

another quiet every quiet lean

our ears closer trying to

hear to hear inside we are

aware notice the sun outside

outside making grass and just

breathe breathe just grass. we

pause where again the

thisthat, the second hand by

again and we we . but smile at we

can't help help make the

windchimes windchimes all all

these acoustic

twenty three.

fixed link mutable link

why squirrels cars. end

it all turn out to be part

without a punchline without a to

some rock glue, opinions and

, screams and fists and

hugs, the we keep to while we

hear muffled voices from the

other room and temperature

changing moment all is landing on

and how the room we our a. we

don't know or but somehow. we

don't caring that would never

more or feel more, more

laughing on is

seven.

fixed link mutable link

tangling wires into

these bizarre shapes, rugs

with strange colors and

melodies waitingly, taking deep

breaths before the speech where

we finally speak our

minds: "won't everybody

please, please stop this

cruelty? can't we see how

unnecessary it is?" some glass

window creaking under winds,

some oil spilled in a parking

lot. how again the why's and

who's before and after or some

some behind throughingly, a

manual for writers of research

papers about electrical

engineering and game theory,

complex analysis and early

marxist painting; the

walls of this place have

shoulders that are

sagging, somewhere in these

pages an actual answer to a

question that matters. a new pair

of jeans, a holiday

decoration left up for months, a

lightbulb which doesn't fit even

though we could have sworn the

size was right at the store.

color combinations making us

feel sick and wonder why we

care about the dissonance,

why we should prefer one to

the other. we conclude that

we're all just bits of air

moving with the waves of some

song we can't hear: now

banging on the wooddrums, the

thoughts and the doubts, hopes or

imaginations throwing fists at the

organ keyboard, some body of

loud waters, some

electrical structure groaning in

rains particles trapped in

the breezings, the sine

waves, the eyeballs thrown

left and right or up and down

or is that a sign of

happiness, of

peacefulness? who's to tell what's

harmony and what's dissonance?

who's to tell the words of the

song when each moment's just

a few bits of data? hard to

see the picture from a

pixel, hard to find the poem

through a word a letter an inkdot

the arounds and behinds

lost somewhere in the mix,

the breath being exhaled

before we even noticed it was

inside our bodies, each note

rising just a little higher or

just a little more like dirty

wallpaper: we ask each other where

it happened. where the

music got faster. where the

blue became green, where the

light was switched on and the

newer waves began to

interfere with things and distort

the shapes, canceling out

or multiplying or

performing more complicated

operations until the noise is noise

and the signal is noise and

the noise is still noise yet

somehow wider, more sideways

and spinningly and

uppingly and backwardly, more

harsh and out of sync, now neon

colorlines and batteries, strange

gaps in the spiral not

patterns but something about

them which makes us feel the

walls are moving further away

and the room is becoming

smaller, that one moment is

another and the second hand is

somehow different this time

around. we cannot help but go to

sleep again, this time with a

strange smile and already

looking forward to coffee. this

time with socks and a thicker

blanket. this time with the

windows open: and in comes the

cooler air.

two.

fixed link mutable link

because the longer we

stare at the details, the less

we are sure they even

matter.

four.

fixed link mutable link

it's hard to speak

sometimes. we are frustrated with

ourselves for our

inconsistencies once at peace and

allowing things to be just the way

they are and want to be,

always taking action and never

taking action,

leftandrighting with the leftandright

once again wishing things

were a different way or that

the coin had landed on the

other face; we can't figure

out who we are, and we aren't

quite sure if that question

leads anywhere hard to find

the energy to say anything,

too many responses waiting

behind each option which never

seem to go anywhere

positive, anywhere that doesn't

hurt anybody or dissipate

into the grass as if nothing

had happened in the first

place and we begin to wonder if

anything actually did or does

happen or if we had somehow just

thought it all up out of some kind

of desperation and

confusion aimed at nothing in

particular, cycles going back and

forth but never quite the same

way, always surprising

somehow and adding to the

confusion and lack of any sense of

place, the feeling that we are

nowhere and the feeling that we

are getting nowhere.

thirteen.

fixed link mutable link

we wait for a few minutes

and wonder if it would be

okay for us to ask now: "is

this beautiful?" we wonder

if nobody noticed and we

watch the air just sort of move

around through the leaves. we

take another breath with the

sunlight and feel warmer.

throughs and arounds

behindingly the now nowing while

again the time continues and

stops and continues again.

circles of ink we close our eyes.

zero.

fixed link mutable link

and all at once things

are so quiet, a tiny hiss

from the walls, distant

clanging of a ventilation fan. we

breathe with the sunlight,

passing clouds causing these

little pulses in the sunglow

and somehow we feel it in our

toes even though we can't

quite tell why the wind

chooses the pitches it sings

against the window, why one

harmony should point to

another, why every story has some

sort of climax where

elements and trajectories

culminate into some bigger thing

as if we had been heading

there all along as if there

were some kind of purpose

behind the penscratches or

where this leaf decides to

fall in this rotting pile we

notice a pain in our lower back

from bad posture and some

strange sense of pressure from

the bottom of our right foot

now the ventilation fan

slowing down into a periodic

banging; we notice a coin lying on

the ground but we can't make

out which side it landed on.

do we care? is it good to

care? would it matter if we

knew? we are staring at the

coin and the coin is staring

back.

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

twenty nine.

twenty four.

twenty five.

eleven.

twenty seven.

ten.

seventeen.

fourteen.

twenty eight.

sixteen.

eight.

six.

nineteen.

eighteen.

twenty six.

twenty one.

three.

thirty one.

thirty.

twelve.

twenty.

nine.

fifteen.

one.

five.

twenty two.

twenty three.

seven.

two.

four.

thirteen.

zero.