Dean & The Golden Ratio
Chapter 4: The place would either be a claustrophobic closet or a palace of unimaginable dimensions, expanding and contracted according to its own specific physics...but there was also a feeling, unshakeable at times, that something was pushing back at me.
a stone in a stream
I lay there, feeling other versions of myself on other timelines that rippled out and occasionally intersected with one another, stretching into infinity.
midnight & the stars and you
What if, instead of being a benevolent entity helping to lead us out of the maze of ordinary reality, Heir Max was the Minotaur at its center–the half-man, half-beast form of a demented deity that wanted to be worshipped like a ferreal god?
void jazz
I slept uneasily inside a vaulted void and dreamt, not for the first time, that Heir Max was beside me in the bed. That was it, there was nothing else to it, just the thrilling and terrifying feeling of his (its?) invisible presence close enough to hear my thoughts.
love is telepathic
Instead of coldly calculating the correct emotional response, the most human among us are laughing out loud at the saddest parts and living strange lives as they forever reach for the golden string.
Nada & the New Style
Chapter 3: No news, no obligations, no parties to try and pull myself together for. Just the two of us, me helping her create a revolution with art, like lassoing a satellite spun out of orbit, and beaming its frequency into the darkness.
Postworld
“It’s ok to try harder." I asked the other Babies if they agreed with what Em said and they said of course. That was the main message–to try. Ever since last summer when everything shifted.
And that was the first I heard of Postworld.
greek chorus
Lately I’ve been waking up feeling fortunate–joyful even–despite all the horror and darkness in the world. If not me, then who? I can’t make any sort of difference if I go down with the ship. And everything I’m doing now is about making a difference.
casper [at] the roses.
Chapter 2: There are times when I think about going somewhere new, somewhere I’ve never been before where I can learn to write again...
But if I left Brooklyn, I wouldn’t be able to drink at The Roses every day.