'the pain comes in waves,' i thought as i observed the reflection of the pavilion opposite us on the surface of the pool, the wind blowing yet not a ripple to be seen. it comes and it goes. at high tide it crashes against you, envelops you, eats at your grains. and after a while it recedes and the ocean is calm again. but inevitable is the turning of clock hands. you find yourself at that time of day. chin up. you have gotten through this before. wait for calm waters.





i told you to be patient
i told you to be fine
i told you to be balanced
i told you to be kind
now all your love is wasted?
then who the hell was I?



you can turn every page of every notebook i have written in into countless weightless strips of black and white. but what good does that do. if only i could put my mind through the shredder too.