I think I have the twisties but for words
wastebook [8/5/2024]
What do we call that? It’s not writers block, because I’m not blocked. More like, lost. Simone Biles says the twisties feels like getting lost in the air, and that’s how I feel when I try to finish an essay. It’s high summer, we drove 2,000 miles in July. maybe I’m just tired; heat-scrambled in the brain.
This wastebook contains: photographs I made in Florida, brain worms, writing practices for the dysfunctional/depressed, a soundtrack for the vibes. more feelings than words; i’ve been thinking too much, not feeling enough.
swampburbia by night:
the dying colors come out after every late-day storm; there are ghosts of wrecks in all the intersections. glass, chunks of bumper, a piece of a child’s carseat. stroads, stroads, stroads, long rides everywhere, blasting drum and bass to stay awake. the desperate and unshakeable desire to do hard drugs; going to the kava bar instead.
