i feel as though there is a fading the lowlit rooms are receding blacker there’s an energy that can no longer be bothered
and the world’s bright sunlight is slightly less
you know these days you wake up you just know it’s going to be a slob day
i think that’s my eyes every day now
images music poetry prose contents podcast products ©
sequences titles year podcasts published reviews
[A] [B] [C] [D] [E] [F] [G] [H] [I] [J] [K] [L] [M] [N] [O] [P] [Q]
(i) (ii) (iii) (iv) (v)
this archive is hosted by arts & ego © 1978–2025 dylan harris—<(unknown)>some rights reserved(undefined)>