In the city, beneath the sounds of living, you can always hear (if you listen with a certain determination) the subtle ticking of an eternal clock.
The thing that sometimes gets me about peaceful places far removed therefrom is precisely the absence of this ticking…
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I had forgotten about the novels in my phone until just now. 😉
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The ticking, of course, is inside me.
§ As you get older, the ghosts become more real than anything else.
§ Under the leaves, soil. Under the soil, stone. Under the stone, souls.
§ Radically empowering individuals in society may be the worst mistake we ever made.
§ Want to be a radical? Refuse to suffer. Then, wait for the assault.
§ Goodbye 2017, part two. (The real part.)
§ Sometimes you find home where you’ve never been—and you dwell where you aren’t.
§ The self can’t play Atlas for postmodernity because science is now supernatural.
§ Rehab is universal. So is history.
§ Identity, transcendence, and tactics.
§ Untitled. (a.k.a. Pretty faces, new old photos.)