Woah--there is a full moon (almost full--i think it's truly full tomorrow) right outside of my window. Snap.


supersonicits so much easier to talk about me when im not me so lets talk aboutsupersonic
you
running on hotwire energy from no sleep at all, drowning in fevered excitement and joy at the littlest things, pulse racing, mind sprinting, finish line nowhere in sight which is okay because you could go for miles, you feel, ten k marathon? bring it toure de france? already in your dust
did someone attach a car battery to you in the midst of the night when you stood in your moon saturated driveway drinking cognac-and-milk while watching the sky? maybe they crept up behind you and gave you two lives instead of on


out of servicepeople shout and people scream and I think about a lot of things but not about that. i think aboutout of service
mountains
id like to crawl under rivers id like to ford about the way i want to not have to breathe so i can stay underwater for the rest of my life and not have to hear the bad way people treat each other.
and i contemplate
valleys
full of trees and streams and the tiniest whispers where secrets arent secrets just because they dont have to be. so i guess what im saying is i stopped listening a long time ago and maybe thats why there're no words


floaterslinger beneath wave and rockfloaters
crack and maw and bone and bending wake from slumber sliméd things
kraken crater earth unending
have not fear have not hate have not nothing at all be like rock pools in some hidden craggy cave so silent and still in such utter, brilliant darkness
at the bottom of rivers I found you seaweed entwined through your hair like some restless echo I sought you blue-eyed and tongue twisting longing you were drowning beneath your own weightlessness I reached down to just touch your hand bizarre cold Ulysses you rose u


the merry life of maryshe likes to imagine summer in the south ideas pulled from stories of dust and heat and august evening the grass gone brown with crackling sun houses stiff and creaking bone dry bone dry picked white bleached skulls friends come and friends go like winter sunshine summer snow it is raining always raining she likes to think she is made of rain tiny crystal droplets forming cells and pores and eyes like glass i am soaked all through my soul she says i am soaked all through my soul she thinks she loves him (nowsthe merry life of mary
How has your weekend been?
Daniel
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Portfolio | Prints
"Tomorrow will begin the first day of the rest of your life" // Thomas Koschwitz
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Awareness Saves Lives. Please, take a moment to raise yours.
[link] Thank you x
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"Let us go, then, you and I, when the evening is spread out against the sky, like a patient etherized upon a table..."
happy new year
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Oh snap!
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