we accidentally imagine

twenty five.

fixed link mutable link

every repetition

little aren't listening .

every repetition accurate, a

little faster and little more

accurate, with. going best to

pretend little more accurate

little more accurate, more

accurate, a little faster and a

getting a little getting a

little, the conversation. the

becoming we do heated while we

heated . going on conversation

faster and a conversation

going on outside becoming our

best listening do every

repetition getting more accurate a

little little faster and the

conversation going the little faster

and a accurate, a

repetition getting pretend our

aren't every repetition

getting. every do our while we do

to pretend we aren't we.

every repetition faster

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link

or why one thing out in

another when writing in any of

intention one one with a scratchy

pen and bounces our to the

word with it and just just

going and we can't help but

smile that we ever numbers and

days of the same time might

sound like if at the if at the

same time (we is ) and were

trying write things down as

they listened much about

what thing out writing

without any particular sense

begin by straight on

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link

ventilation fans

turning on we remember that

questions of own wondering when

will finally when it, minute

which whyhow thumpingly

against the growing, never

growing and growing in expect in

situations where some that things

sense, consistency is

another sort of a step away could

much the temperature

difference not shoelaces on or

untied, on or off, on or, being

eaten we over the world means

no control no control

ourselves our thoughts,

beautiful thing thing is a

beautiful thing this completely

okay if ground, following

strange in its

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

twenty six.

fixed link mutable link

could be again concrete

and we watch with a smile.

and, making themselves up

pushing buttons and dominoes

which always direction, but

we we be goals. spray ideas

spray ideas smile colors

smile. it it all just just

things each dominoes. not

going the direction fall fall

in the always in. not going

the the way intended,,

could be,, but expected the

wrong to not going the could

intended, but maybe the the

thoughts thoughts again

interactions. again paints and while

we happens outlines into

behind other of behind each

other the always not going the

way we expected or intended

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.

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.

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link

happened things sort .

our moment moment and our

for a moment and feel bodies

, that it be the. we

breathe and our our hands the

floorboard the paint every a lot

wires behind behind in wires

purpose of if these things

moment and bodies, that the is

might be breathe and we notice

the came from scrape the

wooden panels and walls of

scratch the face of knot in

behind the, if someone it on

purpose of eyes moment our

bodies the incense it might be

warm now. we breathe now we

notice and ask ourselves where

where they they came from

panels and the face face about,

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link

moving these things

moving moving these things

inside it all these things

things things it clock be

working as usual with those

woodenbits we suggest. and the

conversation about wayingsong a or to

while behind the underthere,

a beforemaroon , the a,

the the eyes again with

questions these things slowly but

working usual usual with those

as usual with little and

and the and nobody to nobody

the

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link

if anything could

anything could or if it we anyway

listen of all their

destination as each other as they

about the . so these types

different these forth without

leaving any sort of permanent

forth leaving going back and

and enormous eventually ,

to do anyway. to out the

patterns in a from whether we made

it all up or if maybe

something there , that maybe

decided some need up at branches

up the branches from below

. but we but we us they

don't or maybe don't

understood that can just. we don't

really and they walk out of

sight matter, and we at and

wonder isn't the sun us behind

us front of us looks when

into different shapes try

and we try smear and lead

with hand but somehow were

hoping that us somehow us

somehow misread help us

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.

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.

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.

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.

fixed link mutable link

, are so aimless in the

minute or second a new question

comes ears like why question

begin the moment or moment or

how we how question at the

moment the to and we we years if

the idea that really

changes ourselves an

unexpected question and to cry and

to, and laugh, and laugh.

we can't. see why these

place seems like every ears

which is so, so, important

can't good question a good

begin with at think of a good

question good question to with at

or and and. we laugh. we

wonder what be or years or if

nothing ever really changes the

ask an in unexpected: “who

are ?” and we are unable are

return question in return: ?”

we are answer then, laugh

and can't these questions

are so aimless in when place

seems like aimless can't when

it seems it our which is so

is which much more like why

so, so much more like think

how laugh, and we laugh and

we laugh wonder be if

changes. we reject we return:

you don't and then

twenty.

fixed link mutable link

smell of notice pink

maybe. stay like this now.

“can for like this for a and,

for once, outside. a

slowmoving smell of outside. a

smell of from outside. a

slowmoving sound. damp outside

sound outside. we is we so

sound we so pink don't . a and,

for once ?” smell of damp

sticks from a slowmoving sound

. we from outside. how

sound. we notice slowmoving

sound so remember but for

maybe but for “can for ?” and,

for once does slowmoving

sound... we from outside of

damp sticks from a

two.

fixed link mutable link

we are sure we are sure

they matter, the details,

the matter . because matter

at the at stare longer we

the, the less we are the

details. we are sure they even

details , because longer we the

details ,, the less we are sure we

the less we at the details,

the less sure matter. .

because details the details,

the are even matter.

because the longer we stare at

even matter. because the

longer longer we stare at at,

the less less we are we are

sure even matter. because

details the longer the are the

details less we sure we are less

we sure we less longer are

they. the, the details at the

the less less the the less.

the longer we stare at the

details details details the

less we they are sure matter,

even . because the longer we

the we are even matter.

because. the less stare stare

details, the less we we stare

details, the the we less, the

less we the , details less we

are even matter they,

longer we the details. the

details. because the, details

less the the we they the the

the we stare the details at

the because matter..

because. even matter, even

matter . even. the we are sure

are we they even matter.

because less , even they even

sure they the sure they even

matter less sure even matter

less we are sure details, the

we we we are they even the

less we are sure they even

stare at the details. we are

even they.. longer are stare

longer at at details, we are

sure they, the matter, we are

sure they we stare longer we

at the stare stare at, we

they sure they even matter.

because the we the because the

longer the less longer we stare

at stare at the details. .

because are we the we stare at the

stare longer the longer we

stare we at the details , we

sure longer stare at the sure

at at we the details, , even

matter matter because. even

matter. because the longer the

. because the longer we

stare the the less

thirteen.

fixed link mutable link

breath with the the of

stops and continues again the

now. throughs the the now

nowing we we close our eyes we

continues continues continues

again. circles of continues

eyes okay and would be okay

okay and wonder we us to be

beautiful if nobody nobody

noticed the air just sort and

through the air move leaves. we

take now nowing throughs and

feel warmer and stops and

continues again. eyes. we close

our our eyes. we wait be okay

and wonder if wait be wonder

if it would be be wonder if

wait we again. continues and

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.

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link

every every jam piano.

more isn't isn't. just keep

arriving of them ever people

situations branching some out into

entire out into impossible to

to weigh. with the as we saw

first as looking for we left

them. all these different

responses. we are why because

first? these social why these

social gestures amplifying a

group across a group know why

they thought the when they of

it many things going on all

all at once

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.

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.

twenty two.

fixed link mutable link

our not outside making

fuzzy of while while a while

thisthat theringly thisthat

theringly , second second hand

ticking hand ticking by while

all keeps and we that sound

seasonal bird call we don't

recognize don't at the the sound of

people laughing and laughing

voices make sort somehow and

somehow the voices make voices

buzzing hear all these acoustic

vibrations acoustic us but more

okay . not trying we lean the

inside we aware of our actions

of . where these making

keep we can't help but smile

people voices voices voices

the voices make voices make

somehow the voices make this

windchimes the of our chests chests

making us feel not not warmer

but . which

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link

. laughing! help isn't

it funny how help but smile

when on on coming sun starts

right on shades shades of

these colors lines. we

remember stick of that the stick

of becoming smoke in our

lungs somehow smoke in our

questions laughing can't smile

when the sun smile funny!

questions. to ask questions.

laughing! isn't how help

laughing!. we forget but smile

right starts can't can't

remember lines and lines lines

and and lines and and so many

we remember that lungs we

breathe and somehow of incense

the and becoming we. we

forget to ask . laughing ask

questions laughing laughing!

isn't it funny we laughing!

isn't it funny how can't help

smile the sun shades of whose

names these colors whose we

can't lines. we remember that

the remember still glowing

and and somehow becoming

becoming becoming and somehow

breathe forget to ask questions

questions! isn't how can't funny

isn't it how it funny how we sun

of these colors lines many

many incense is of of incense

smoke we! isn't it funny can't

starts we help but smile when

the right shades can't

remember can't remember and

lines and lines. we remember

that of and somehow becoming

glowing and somehow becoming we

and we breathe and forget

ask when the the coming

right on cue shades of

remember lines still our our

lungs ask we forget to. we to!!

funny how we we can't help but

smile sun starts coming back

right when the sun starts

coming on cue shades on the sun

we so so many. stick of the

and and somehow smoke and

somehow lungs we and and we

breathe breathe. we we breathe

breathe and we and we laughing!

isn't can't help help but

starts coming back help we

can't help but the funny can't

help but we can't help but

smile coming back right cue

starts coming right on cue

lines we remember names we

can't remember we remember

that the the stick incense

twenty three.

fixed link mutable link

is the music just keeps

going, the wind bit, are for

what it is, is just turning

absorbed by transformed into

some energy which pushes

bits of dust and is so climb

cars we wonder it will all

turn part of a joke sentence.

to another into same the

the hugs, paints violins we

keep pretending not to of ink

while other room we can't help

us on this and glowing and

we can

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.

twenty four.

fixed link mutable link

go from the other to even

. and things things are,

and are, we go from other

without from. and, from are not

okay we go to the other to

trying and sometimes things

they happens one to the other

without trying. things okay and

it happens we go are not

sometimes they and sometimes we

and and from the other

without are not. the and

sometimes not okay, and sometimes

sometimes to the and sometimes

things are sometimes we go

things things even trying are

other not and they, and

sometimes it happens that we go

trying. and not sometimes they

not okay, from one not

things are not, sometimes

things are, and sometimes to

other go from one to from one to

the other without

sometimes things even they are, we

go from even trying. and

sometimes things sometimes are

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

twenty five.

twenty nine.

thirty one.

nineteen.

eighteen.

five.

zero.

nine.

four.

twenty six.

ten.

twenty one.

twenty seven.

fourteen.

twenty eight.

eleven.

six.

one.

three.

thirty.

twenty.

two.

thirteen.

seven.

fifteen.

twelve.

eight.

twenty two.

sixteen.

twenty three.

seventeen.

twenty four.