We would climb up the back hill to stand atop the towers and we could see at least a mile out from its summit. We would joke about how the earth was trying to swallow the castle whole to protect the world from its evil. On one occasion my brother even pretended he was being pulled into the ground alongside the castle and we all screamed and laughed at the possibility. 

Order. Everything in its place under the last dust.

Have you ever dusted? It is a constant chore. After a day it settles again. After a few days it turns into a coat. And after a little more time, it turns to grime.

Who has time to dust? It's a sincere question. But not a question I'm actually interested in. What I'm actually interested is disorder. Entropy. Things falling apart.

I'm a content creator.

I generate graphics, videos, animations, podcasts, and I'm well on my way to becoming more of a behind the scenes producer. I credit my success to a single principle, which is: To be successful, you have to project success.

Truly, I don't know what everyone's problem is. If you want to have a better life you have to adopt a better attitude. Be a better person. It's as easy as that.

“In 1998, I was in the back of a brown jeep parked in my family’s garage playing with blocks of wood. At four years old, simple shapes were enough to keep me entertained and engaged. I did not need much. Some soft inoffensive foods. Quiet during sleep. The love of my parents. These were enough to keep me full. “

Content Warning: Death and Dying

His lips were discolored blue

What was I to do?

He worked hard under a pulsing sun
Skin hot and dark and getting darker
Sheathing strong muscles that pull and release
The burden of weight

Yesterday, I woke up very early. I was in a lot of pain, curled over cradling my belly. Slowly and carefully I made my way to the kitchen, opened the fridge and cracked a few eggs into a hot pan. When I went back to the fridge, I noticed in the back corner a piece of Tupperware from my former roommate.

“you are always falling somewhere, in low earth orbit, falling towards a surface that never arrives. all you want is the security and surety of the surface, the hard flat infinite ground with which to strike your body at beyond-terminal velocity so you can scatter your bones across flatland like a memory, like ripples in a pond”

Up in my bedroom

I had a poster of Nomar Garciapara

Name like a spell

-

I was not a baseball fan

But my Dad loved it

And what he liked

I liked too

Sometimes I think about the misty past

Before words were used to describe everything

Signify, contain and otherwise compartmentalize

When days were yet to be

The stars. Endless pin pricks. Universal pixels.

Inga Bossanova started counting them and quickly stopped.

Don’t get caught up in counting the countless.

She stood among the lavender by the young elm at the center of the fenced yard. The dozen or so neighborly windows with their lights extinguished. A new moon. Very dark night.

“Get down from there,” Silas yelled up at his nephew climbing the big oak tree in the front yard of his childhood home. With dirty hands he wiped the sweat off his forehead and pushed it into his greying thin hair to slick it back.”

"But what I wanted to point out with this legend or whatever — something that one Andromete told me was really the core of the story — was that the Talsoquians’ speech spread like a fucking plague. Once they got wind of the concept of speaking, of talking, it became so much easier than their old way of communicating. Every Talsoquian started speaking, and it changed everything.”