How are you?

Hello world. Hello you. Hello love. Hello dreams.
Hello peace. Hello time. Hello mind. Hello free.
Hello sky. Hello sun. Hello stars. Hello winds.
Hello breeze. Hello sea. Hello grass. Hello tree.
Hello warmth. Hello light. Hello dark. Hello night.
Hello this. Hello me. Hello that. Hello you.
Hello you. Hello you. Hello you. Hello me.
Hello me. Hello me. Hello me. Hello you.

Karen

Karen requires him to be a proactively nice catholic boy.

Weird.

Weird to be an ant, you think?
Without a warning,
You will just be crushed and killed.

The moon

Tonight, the moon looks like a magic white bowl.
A bowl that is kind of jade-like or fragile, with a green or orange tinge, if you imagine.
Glowing in the dark, holding magic secrets.
Altogether, very compelling, very seductive, and very... special...

When was the last time you took a good look at the moon?
Tonight is my first time in a long time.
Tonight, I could be at a rooftop with a friend, taking a better look at the moon.

(Untitled)

Once upon a time, there was a white piece of wall. It was rectangular in shape, with the longer side as the horizontal. There were two rusty nails on this white piece of wall, like eyes, on a curious face. Rust stains leaked from the nails onto the wall, like tears, on a curious face. The white curious face piece of wall was framed by the larger yellowish or dustier piece of wall that framed the white piece of wall.
If you stood in front of it and stared long enough, you might imagine a smile appear, but would then feel generally glad that you could just walk away without saying goodbye, that you could just walk away and live happily ever after.

Moxie high

Recently, I find myself saying, "luckily, I'm high in moxie," too frequently.

Desperation

Desperately, he sighed and said to her, "I feel very desperate."
Desperately, he looked down his fat belly and sighed again, he brushed his thinning white hair with his hand, and he looked up to her from the edge of the chair.
Desperately, she could say nothing in reply.

She

She walks quite carefully
With umbrella in one hand.
Her toes are wet quite thoroughly.
She smiles. They understand.

Genesis 4:9

Then the Lord said to Cain, "Where is your brother Abel?"
"I don't know," he replied. "Am I my brother's keeper?"

Lake

Beneath the frozen lake, something is writhing within. Perhaps more furiously so precisely because the surface is frozen. The life of the lake is not yet ice.
The life of the lake is not yet ice.

Start a fire, start a fire.
At the centre of it all.
Let it burn, let it burn.
The life of the lake is not yet ice.

What is writhing and writhing furiously?
What is struggling, what is strangling?
What is struggling to believe?
What is struggling to live?
The life of the lake is not yet old.

Scream, as loud as you can,
As loud as you will, scream.