i'm an 80ist i believe in goats/ I cross the street to avoid getting barked at (I slept in until almost 6:30 today)
the more i learn, the less i know. All I want is to be enough. Grapefruit and lettuce; I want to start fires
hazard vendor country loose swirling coaster door dilapidated blistering highway sodas flyaway no matter
I slept in the backyard maroon lights over me you all saw the triangle floating didn't you?
i'm an aehtiest i nbelieve in ghosts im an athiest i believe in ghost i'm and atheiest I believe in ghost I'm an atheist i Believe in ghosts
leaping lungs t-shirt soft fused his unbutton splendor lips shyly my life blinding tiniest staking physical pay pistol
walked fast night Freeway houses her alliance heart sneaking café tense of lavender unmarried
diary wayward back eyes dead potions fuzzydrunk handkerchief
I had all the pickles, and I looked pickled and said, "This is a bigger pickle than I just got out of!" I don't want to take my pickles to work! I got a pickle in a pickle bag!
accidental silhouette barefooted short white wall kicks exit money cuties
baby unhappiness ocean animals flower maze red tiled parties balcony flushed skin
Time Lapse 1-second interval 30 minutes shooting time (1800 seconds) 1800 frames 1 min. 15 sec. final footage (at 24 FPS) 2-second interval 30 minutes shooting time (1800 seconds) 900 frames 37.5 sec. final footage (at 24 FPS)
I regret all of the times I declined to jump from structures or cliffs into water.
There was never any reason to think we'd find our way out of this. I wasted the first twenty years learning. How many of my friends died in the process.
Send me a cassette in the mail. I’m not worth it. If I started a religion, would you believe me. We’re going to give you the biggest birthday party ever.
I got that death in my face. My shadow in the shadow of Mt. Shasta. American Flag. Illegal Jeans.
The hair on my chest has been deeply copyrighted. Shearing the spacecraft out of your laughter.
I found a cave in the woods made of an old car, fabric ties and rocking chairs.
There are certain images pressed into me that define this time, you know. Marigolds for instance. Sawdust and lime circuit boards. Friends that catch me in the act.
What happened? There isn't a way to describe the light in its infancy. I will never see the newborn sun.
I used to chew gum when I still had a jaw. I don't have a bank account anymore, nor do I have leg warmers.
I know dark secrets unacceptable for civilians. Like where the hole to the center of the Earth is. Like how to use the night sky as a mirror.
I work at a coffee shop. Come visit me sometime. I work at a record store. Come visit me sometime. I work at a restaurant. Come visit me sometime.
I'm writing down every hour of my life in a little pink spreadsheet accessible from the top of Everest, where time moves more slowly and the column's totals prove inaccurate.
I hear you scream, The rattlesnake bit my tongue.
The smell of your god is a comforting cinnamon. It will never be the 90s again, sweet pea.
There's a black hole sucking underneath your chair. Look.
The voice is a fingerprint. Burn it off.
The crack of a home-run. The pipes are frozen.
I haven't found my voice yet. I'm twenty-five, which is awful — shouldn't I be farther along by now? But oh well. That's what Citizen Scientist is here for. It's a way for me to keep writing, to keep experimenting, to keep trying to stretch & strengthen my muscles without having to be perfect. Then someday, maybe, I'll appear as I want to appear.