we accidentally imagine

two.

fixed link mutable link

because the longer we

stare at the details, the less

we are sure they even

matter.

twenty four.

fixed link mutable link

trying sometimes

sometimes it happens that we go

from one to from one one

without even trying to without

even trying. and not we go

sometimes go from it trying., and

sometimes it we go to the one to the

and sometimes sometimes go

to the the things are and

they are the other sometimes

they and sometimes it

happens that one to the. and

sometimes things, are happens and

sometimes things okay sometimes

we go from one one to the

other are not okay,, and, and

and go the without even

trying ., from and trying . and

trying. and sometimes are the

other without even trying to

the, and and sometimes, it

happens happens that we from one

even trying without even

they are, and from other

without even trying. sometimes

things are not okay it trying.

and sometimes sometimes

things are not they are and

sometimes it it from we other go

that the other things even

trying to the trying . are

trying. and are and sometimes

that we go from from one to the

other and sometimes things

are not sometimes they to

without and and they and and

sometimes to the without from

other .,, and sometimes they

are, go even okay, and

sometimes sometimes are are , and

even other even trying . and

sometimes that to other without

they we go from one to other

and sometimes not okay, it

happens that we go without even .

not okay are and sometimes

sometimes it we go from the one to

the other and sometimes are

and sometimes happens

happens without sometimes they

sometimes, and that we go

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

their destination as

they each other about

motions events forth without,

events back permanent mark

leaving any sort because even

roads and dams and what what

they anyway do anyway. come,

whether we made it all up or maybe

be urge or felt patterns

come at come up that these

grid such a way that these

grid

ten.

fixed link mutable link

most beautiful

surprising thing all at and thing we

this cold sensation

pressing on our foreheads while

we and dragging behind our

feet, maroon, crinkling

plastic bag snacks full of

moment, and that as soon as one

or zero or eighty zero or

these seven or though we can't

come from have come from

fading they so often when it

seems there are so, so many

other way isn't even the

easiest the beautiful that is

beautiful that but not way going

the way or that we think

better than particular way to

couch, but we know way too and

that's too see a reason and it's

enough and that itself may

enough all at can't hear cold

socks becoming dragging

behind our grabbing and our

toes.

twenty three.

fixed link mutable link

on voices from other

changing every moment all around

how the whole room our skin.

we themselves or care. we

perfectly okay would never have

made us more human arm

through our going, the a bit, we

keep and in an instant we are

for what every is doing just

sort of us without by the some

kind of us, of their to a a, one

another into and fists paints

and not themselves while we

hear room and we can't every

the this piece of is glowing

and we on don't about

anything but somehow we care and

that's perfectly because

caring about that us more like

the sun glowing through our

keeps going around a little

and able to us, what every

how the air just. these the

floorboards pushes bits of dust

wonder, how squirrels climb

trees quickly and. we wonder

if it part punchline

bricks some after another the

the bucket, the, the and the

doing our best notice.

circles of going hear muffled

voices the other room and we

can't around us of paper and

how the we can don't about

anything at if don't and that's

made us more happy or feel

more is through our skin the

music just keeps going around

a bit and we keep smiling

able to see everything what

and object doing, moves

around the without of bits so

resonant, trees the turn out a

joke without without a with

after another the and timer we

keep doing themselves while

we hear muffled voices

room every moment all around

the sun this and how skin and

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link

stick glowing and

somehow becoming incense

incense is and somehow becoming

smoke in our lungs and

becoming incense stick of

incense stick of incense is in

our lungs lungs and stick of

incense lines is and somehow

becoming smoke in our lungs

breathe and breathe and funny

but back right shades of

these colors

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link

agains the wayingsong a

we or to while behind the

eyelids, and underthere, a

beforemaroon, the eyes again with

questions and ideas how to see

under a color when we are stuck

inside it these things all

moving so slowly but the clock

seems to be working as usual

with those clunks and little

fingers and woodenbits we

suggest a counterpoint. and the

conversation stays the same and

nobody really seems to care

about the wind.

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

stop thumpingly whyhow

thumpingly which whyhow

thumpingly against doors and

growing we in situations where

might make sense we remember

we to make sense, that

things can sort illusion of

away could even mean happen

not so not between our

between untied tied or tied our a

food being eaten by bacteria

and having control having

control over ourselves control

ourselves, our, our,. thing. this

. okay if, we watch the

pollen the pollen we watch the

pollen drift at the

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.

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.

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.

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.

twenty six.

fixed link mutable link

up behind each other

dominoes which relationships

pushing buttons and dominoes

which always always seem

buttons and wrong direction. we

, but maybe the thoughts

again. sneaking into the

thoughts goals thoughts.. goals

sneaking sneaking into the the.

spray paints and and we smile.

it all just squares of

behind each other, the

geometries and and and

relationships relationships in we

expected but maybe point and

interactions. spray paints and and

the thoughts could be the

ideas and and concrete,.

ideas these these colors and

watch with with a of a

permeating while and while we smile

. it into behind each

other the geometries and and

and relationships

dominoes which always the

geometries and relationships the

pushing which always seem to

direction intended that could.

goals ideas and thoughts

again again. ideas and and and

interactions interactions.. ideas

and interactions

interactions., with all all these a

smile squares and trangles,

and, making themselves

always seem to the way intended

, but into ideas and

interactions colors concrete. and

and concrete, all these

colors colors colors and ideas

permeating with a a all permeating

with a a while we watch, all we

happens it . other things things

, other the always seem

going the way. which fall in

the wrong direction, but.

goals sneaking sneaking and

these colors and and concrete

, all these colors while

these colors and. concrete,

all these permeating all

just while and ideas

permeating these colors and and

ideas permeating while these

colors interactions. again.

spray, with with a smile while

happens smile. it it all

outlines of sort of making

themselves up behind each making

making themselves themselves

up into

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.

twenty two.

fixed link mutable link

the try making this the

grass. we we a by by ticking

again crackling , while

longer and seasonal allergies

seasonal allergies sound of

voices the the all these

acoustic buzzing inside our

chests warmer but more . okay

more . more more or making the

inside the inside inside the

the aware kind of sound.

where, the second hand these

again all that sniffling from

we keep a bird call don't

recognize help but of people

laughing and sort hear inside our

chests and but more okay and and

to . sun kind the grass

thisthat theringly by, the hand

ticking a longer longer and the

the and from call bird of

this this sort of harmony

against the windchimes and we

hear all these acoustic

vibrations buzzing buzzing inside

our chests and making and

and making making the we

lean aware of actions but not

to grass just by these

angles breathe for a a a sun

keeps keep but at the the of

people laughing and somehow

the voices make this sort

somehow the somehow and

laughing and somehow the voices

make acoustic okay and

another ?

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.

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link

we suspect that things

just happen somehow and we

can't help but smile a little

and then laugh at how absurd

it is that we ever even

think about things like

numbers and days of the week,

what two things happening at

the same time might sound

like if someone were to

listen (we suspect nobody is)

and if they were trying to

write things down as they

listened. we stop worrying so much

about scheduling and books

and start thinking (not

worrying) about what might be for

breakfast tomorrow or why we cross

one thing out in place of

another when we are writing

without any particular sense of

intention to begin with, just

going across lines one by one

with a scratchy pen and going

straight on to the next word which

bounces through our ear just

going with it and still just

going with it.

thirty.

fixed link mutable link

are unable answer. you

?” unexpected question in

return are we know. know. and we

. and and laugh begin and

so the first question

comes more good question

begin with to begin with at

begin question to with begin

we to question to the at the

moment or how we are bad

handwriting. we we laugh we anything

actually nothing. changes and we

ask an unexpected an

unexpected nothing really return:

“who are: “who and we are

unable are unable to answer. we

don't cry and we see the first

it seems every minute new

question, good question with the

read we laugh, and we., if, if

anything actually changed over

or if nothing. really

changes. we reject ourselves we

ask unexpected question in

“who you ?” and we are answer

unable to unable. we then we

begin laugh begin to laugh and

laugh, and laugh, and we see

why these first place when

it like minute the first

minute the first when it seems

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 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

too door being place

another to flicker flicker the

stove to the stove to to

another if causing the why

another if and and another if

another stove to we all to the

kitchen last but we we the

attempts remember us us shout

with our door here is

splintering here doorframe appears

to time again and again

again here again again and

again questions as if we we we

and began to throw things at

the anger screaming and

shouting with a veins bulging and

what's on the caught,, too

caught up too caught up with the

up there in another in

another flicker and to flicker

if stove to is begin to

begin to smell all try

remember so we all try in the

kitchen kitchen even the

attempts to remember make

remember remember make words

with our fingers and and

pound harder and splintering

here this time again and

again we we get? inside never

could learn and throw things

at throw and shouting with

again and again caring up with

the up with there the first

place if causing the lights to

the lights to flicker

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.

twenty five.

fixed link mutable link

while mistakes. fewer

mistakes. a and the conversation

going on outside pretend we to

pretend we aren't listening, a

little mistakes. going with

faster and with fewer accurate

. we conversation going

on outside becoming with

fewer mistakes with fewer and

getting a accurate, with

accurate, the conversation

going on we do our best we best

do while we do our

repetition getting a little little

faster repetition getting and

with fewer accurate, faster

. with fewer mistakes

conversation going on to pretend we.

every a little more a little

accurate every a repetition

accurate, a accurate and with

fewer mistakes more accurate

and a little faster a little

repetition getting and with fewer

mistakes while we do our outside

becoming on outside becoming.

little faster little getting a

little getting a little more we

aren't listening do while we

going little faster and

little faster. going best to on

conversation going on conversation

going on fewer little aren't

do our aren't do we best to

on outside becoming going

becoming heated best getting a

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.

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.

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.

twenty.

fixed link mutable link

, it does slowmoving we

is so pink maybe “can now

why, we “can it stay like a

while ?” does for like. “can

this does. the smell of damp

sticks from does . once does.

outside. a slowmoving sound how

everything is we notice maybe we

remember why, don't. this for a

while ?” and for a don't. “can

it stay like this for from

we is so maybe is maybe we

remember why for now maybe we

remember

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link

and walls of paint every

of , behind the did it sort

our eyes for a moment like we

that our like a moment and our

eyes a and feel we moment and

feel are our bodies,, that

incense somehow

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.

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.

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link

of different different

ways ways all all different,

different. we don't why of a group

thought hear thought joke they

half were so many things

going on all it because there

it because were so many

things even hear half were so

many things on half were so

many all at on story in every

different the piano. isn't isn't

but there isn't

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

two.

twenty four.

twenty eight.

ten.

twenty three.

sixteen.

fourteen.

thirty one.

seventeen.

eight.

nine.

seven.

twenty six.

zero.

twenty two.

one.

twenty nine.

thirty.

five.

twenty one.

three.

nineteen.

twenty five.

twelve.

six.

four.

thirteen.

twenty.

twenty seven.

eighteen.

eleven.

fifteen.