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Category: Writing (page 1 of 1)

The purpose of the trip

when i trip
i listen to music
that creates a
a story or archetype
for my consciousness
to synchronize with
to exist in
to live through
as if another life
full with gratitude
and maybe even

Memories in Obsidian

Photo by Malik Earnest on Unsplash

“Look up.”

Two hands lay palms-down on a brown briefcase.

Scars. From cleats and dirt, knives at the bottom of soapy kitchen sinks, mother’s maroon-painted fingernails. Memories. The only way of knowing one’s actually existed. If you don’t remember anything, you don’t know you’re there. Time. The flowing of time. The true nature of time is a spiral; not a line with a definite start and a definite stop.

“Wake up.”

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