Jesus Christ, it is Saturday and there are jackhammers blasting the asphalt in front of our house. The frame of the house is shaking. The cat hiding behind my books is shaking. I haven't slept except in naps since Sunday. How can this be legal? At nine in the morning on a weekend, even people who aren't us are asleep.
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Active Entries
- 1: Pilgrimage, private life, mortality
- 2: My dream house is a negative space of rock
- 3: Your spirit watched me up the stairs
- 4: No, I'll build a cute flower border
- 5: If you don't want the death of the party after I'm gone, sing one for me
- 6: Life, a series of memorials and signals
- 7: Once you've gone, remains the question, baby
- 8: Does everybody know he's a ghost?
- 9: Broken like the earth or a name for a first love or a lesson in shame
- 10: I want to show you all the versions of myself
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