once again, here i come
in linear order. i once wrote the story of

the plague. and im gonna tell it exactly as i saw it.


January 1, 2020


I had woken up early having gone to bed early and I sat sketching in the margins, a tree with its leaves falling, kind of dancing around an otherwise prosaic phrase
sometimes things just go away
like missing pieces

 I had no plans the night before and I had no plans today. I know you can’t just sit and listen to a clock tick but here I was, passing hours, staring at a phrase. And it ticked like that,

sometimes things just go away

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