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small town endlessWhen I first arrived
In town I thought
It's very small
Compared to where
I came from. Friends
Would meet randomly
On the streets.
It is dusk and
The horizon expands
The town with its
Turns into a maze.
Now that I have
Met you that night
And still not run
into you again,
The town becomes
Too big it seems
cafe epiphanyI walked into a cafe, ordered the usual and idled away. All of a sudden there's this strange feeling welled up: I no longer had this vector in front of me, the vector of going somewhere, pointing from the back where I came and ahead where I was going. Instead, my vector imitated the shape of the window, or became the window itself, no longer piercing forward, but dispersed everywhere on the screen.
Unlike the long one dashing through the three dimensions (or four including time) in pushing oneself forward, it followed the passer-bys. It became short, ephemereal, almost two-dimensional. Instead, I became the one who observed the long vectors of intentionality of the commuters. After a while, the crisscrossed lines turned chaotic I had to close my eyes.
I found the feeling stirred in me very peculiar. It reminded me of something, something frightful and homely at the same time. It uncannily revealed to me that I had comfortably arrived, that I had stopped. Only temporarily, to be sure, b
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
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