Could you be a little less oracular? It’s irritating AF.

Looking for the few right words that will fix everything.
Maybe next time.

Street photos of narcissists—like shooting fish in a barrel.

He couldn’t take great prose. The thought of someone having written it was too exhausting.

With a shocking lack of hesitation, she was gone. In an instant he was turned inside out, a pile of guts on the sidewalk.
It would have been a year in May, hey hey hey.

Finally, she said, after all these years, I feel truly seen. At this point the problem is, I want to be unseen.

After his death even his journals were found to consist of vague, ambiguous and purposely misleading statements.

A few more moments of oblivion
before facing it all.

Notes, 4 am
1) the past is a hallucination
2) worst possible combination: eternal life, no god

The billion flinches that rebuilt your face.

When she was little and saw something she liked, she would simply say, “Have it.” And although I know that you, despite this happiness, would rather die than go back, I’d give everything I have to hear it one more time.

Realizing gradually, then all of a sudden, all of the stuff that’s never going to happen.