we watch in awe

the world and its cares are but a toll and a fare. the priorities and tasks we choose most often mold our skin with hot wax and packaged scalpels. when i think about suffering, i understand its hidden truth — i am its victim and its enabler. how much negativity and mourning come from my

the unfinished puzzle

there are people i miss in my life. from the most spontaneous strangers to the closest key keepers of my heart, memories constantly float around lost like a photo album in a tornado. so whichever do slap me in the face while we defy gravity with a twirl, those are some crystal clear flashbulbs with

nonfiction

the best stories are true because they unlock potential that was previously dormant. i see someone similar to myself accomplishing vastly more impactful feats than my current prideful undertaking of using a rice maker. a moving narrative will not only unveil possibilities, but motivate an effort to legitimize results. that’s a crucial crutch for mankind,

dissolution

watermarks faded in front of my eyes today. the quick displacement from the air wicked them away from the windshield seconds at a time. it was then that i realized how strikingly similar this process was to the passage in our own lives. the moments are richly penetrating, then quietly peel away from the tunnel